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Old 01-16-2011   #1
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Ani, a Paradise planted and nurtured by Doom

As of late these forums have been no stranger to posts involving artists' depictions of abandoned and dilapidated cityscapes, the ghosts of the once-living, laughing temples and villas of man now fallen silent, holding a vigil that will last forever. Forever- for man is devoid of any concept of time, or the passage thereof, taking place independently of their superficial presence, a mere facade- a transitory mask of sores upon the land's graven face, as thin and fragile as a banner made of rice paper shuddering in the rain. The eternity to be born whence the paper breaks and dissolves into the rain-soaked ground, into its shallow but ever-deepening grave, exists beyond the protective prison walls of most mens' capabilities of perception.

Here is a place from which arose the ghostly muses that haunted the dreams of de Chirico, a place that exists as a marker of the aftermath of the transcendental cataclysms howling their cacophany throughout ancient cities of magnificence as depicted in the towering painting of John Martin. Its crumbling towers and monuments may serve as points of entry to the vast subterranean labyrinths depicted in Piranesi's Carceri.

This place may owe its fate of annihilation to its being unfortunate enough to be used, whether incidentally or by design, as a caravanserai to the heralds of the dread Nyarlathotep, or perhaps it being positioned heedlessly too close to the site once occupied by the ancient stone citadel of Ib and its doomed successor Sarnath. Perhaps the poor unwary Armenian scribes translated ancient words of warning, some of which may have eventually been compiled and revealed in the second act of the forbidden play, The King in Yellow. Who can say?

The Red Tower on an unusually clear day.

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Cyril Tourneur (01-17-2011), Derek (01-16-2011), G. S. Carnivals (01-16-2011), Spotbowserfido2 (01-17-2011), yellowish haze (02-01-2011)


ani, doom, nurtured, paradise, planted

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