The Voice before the Void: Arcana, Story, Poetry

Armistice Day Special:

A newspaper account printed on the ninth anniversary of “the most important event in all history.”

⁓The Voice before the Void

“When Foch Met Germans to End War: How the Enemy, Beaten, and Fearing Reds, Begged Peace of Allies”

New York Herald Tribune

Mythic narrative.

⁓The Voice before the Void

“Spirit Buck”

Karen Zenner

The first year I went hunting –

with Pa and Mike –

Everyone winked at me, and said,

“He looks like he’s all set for Ol’ Spirit.”

And I grinned and said I was.

Only a few had actually seen Spirit,

And then there was them that said they’d

gotten off a shot,

But you could count them on one hand.

White, majestic, living in the forest longer

than anybody, even Grandpa, could remember.

He’s fought off coyotes, bears, pumas, and us

Hunters.

Everyone wants him, but no one wants him to die.

Our symbol, the spirit buck.

Once, when I was very old,

When I’d given up all hope,

I saw Him.

Bigger ‘n they said.

More beautiful, and lonely.

I took a shot, but through my tears, I couldn’t

see Him straight and it seemed as though

My bullet went right through

And He was gone.

All is but vibration.

⁓The Voice before the Void

“Introduction to M-theory”

Wikipedia

This article is a non-technical introduction to the subject.

In non-technical terms, M-theory presents an idea about the basic substance of the universe.

Background

In the early years of the 20th century, the atom – long believed to be the smallest building-block of matter – was proven to consist of even smaller components called protons, neutrons and electrons, which are known as subatomic particles. Beginning in the 1960s, other subatomic particles were discovered. In the 1970s, it was discovered that protons and neutrons (and other hadrons) are themselves made up of smaller particles called quarks. Quantum theory is the set of rules that describes the interactions of these particles.

In the 1980s, a new mathematical model of theoretical physics called string theory emerged. It showed how all the particles, and all of the forms of energy in the universe, could be constructed by hypothetical one-dimensional “strings”, infinitesimal building-blocks that have only the dimension of length, but not height nor width. Further, string theory suggested that the universe is made up of multiple dimensions. Height, width, and length constitute three-dimensional space, and time gives a total of four observable dimensions; however, string theories supported the possibility of ten dimensions – the remaining six of which we cannot detect directly. This was later increased to 11 dimensions based on various interpretations of the 10-dimensional theory that led to five partial theories as described below. Supergravity theory also played a significant role in establishing the necessity of the 11th dimension.

These “strings” vibrate in multiple dimensions, and depending on how they vibrate, they might be seen in three-dimensional space as matter, light, or gravity. It is the vibration of the string which determines whether it appears to be matter or energy, and every form of matter or energy is the result of the vibration of strings.

String theory, as mentioned above, ran into a problem: another version of the equations was discovered, then another, and then another. Eventually, there were five major string theories. The main differences between each theory were principally the number of dimensions in which the strings developed, and their characteristics (some were open loops, some were closed loops, etc.). Furthermore, all these theories appeared to be correct. Scientists were not comfortable with five seemingly contradictory sets of equations to describe the same thing.

In 1994, Edward Witten of the Institute for Advanced Study and other researchers suggested that the five different versions of string theory might be describing the same thing seen from different perspectives. They proposed a unifying theory called “M-theory”, in which the “M” is not specifically defined, but is generally understood to stand for “membrane.” The words “matrix,” “master,” “mother,” “monster,” “mystery,” and “magic” have also been claimed. M-theory brought all of the string theories together. It did this by asserting that strings are really one-dimensional slices of a two-dimensional membrane vibrating in 11-dimensional space.

Status

M-theory is not complete, but the underlying structure of the mathematics has been established and is in agreement with all the string theories. Furthermore, it has passed many tests of internal mathematical consistency.

Some cosmologists are drawn to M-theory because of its mathematical elegance and relative simplicity. Physicist and author Michio Kaku has remarked that M-theory may present us with a “Theory of Everything” which is so concise that its underlying formula would fit on a T-shirt.

Halloween Special:

Happy Halloweird.

⁓The Voice before the Void

“The Road to Horrorhill”

Barb Lunde

The road to Horrorhill is like a dark long

piece of rope with chewing marks all

along it.

The trees look like telephone poles with

strands of wire banging in the wind.

The houses are like pancakes covered with

tar.

The shops are pieces of toast covered with

grease.

The people are like yellow tree frogs

hopping on their hind legs only.

Halloween Special:

Poe’s parable of the persisting pandemic known as death.

⁓The Voice before the Void

“The Masque of the Red Death”

Edgar Allan Poe

The “Red Death” had long devastated the country. No pestilence had ever been so fatal, or so hideous. Blood was its Avatar and its seal—the redness and the horror of blood. There were sharp pains, and sudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with dissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the face of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid and from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure, progress and termination of the disease, were the incidents of half an hour.

But the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his dominions were half depopulated, he summoned to his presence a thousand hale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his court, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his castellated abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent structure, the creation of the prince’s own eccentric yet august taste. A strong and lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates of iron. The courtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and welded the bolts. They resolved to leave means neither of ingress nor egress to the sudden impulses of despair or of frenzy from within. The abbey was amply provisioned. With such precautions the courtiers might bid defiance to contagion. The external world could take care of itself. In the meantime it was folly to grieve, or to think. The prince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. There were buffoons, there were improvisatori, there were ballet-dancers, there were musicians, there was Beauty, there was wine. All these and security were within. Without was the “Red Death”.

It was towards the close of the fifth or sixth month of his seclusion, and while the pestilence raged most furiously abroad, that the Prince Prospero entertained his thousand friends at a masked ball of the most unusual magnificence.

It was a voluptuous scene, that masquerade. But first let me tell of the rooms in which it was held. These were seven—an imperial suite. In many palaces, however, such suites form a long and straight vista, while the folding doors slide back nearly to the walls on either hand, so that the view of the whole extent is scarcely impeded. Here the case was very different, as might have been expected from the duke’s love of the bizarre. The apartments were so irregularly disposed that the vision embraced but little more than one at a time. There was a sharp turn at every twenty or thirty yards, and at each turn a novel effect. To the right and left, in the middle of each wall, a tall and narrow Gothic window looked out upon a closed corridor which pursued the windings of the suite. These windows were of stained glass whose colour varied in accordance with the prevailing hue of the decorations of the chamber into which it opened. That at the eastern extremity was hung, for example in blue—and vividly blue were its windows. The second chamber was purple in its ornaments and tapestries, and here the panes were purple. The third was green throughout, and so were the casements. The fourth was furnished and lighted with orange—the fifth with white—the sixth with violet. The seventh apartment was closely shrouded in black velvet tapestries that hung all over the ceiling and down the walls, falling in heavy folds upon a carpet of the same material and hue. But in this chamber only, the colour of the windows failed to correspond with the decorations. The panes here were scarlet—a deep blood colour.

Halloween Special:

All we need is Halloween.

⁓The Voice before the Void

“The Legend of Sleepy Hollow”

Washington Irving

FOUND AMONG THE PAPERS OF THE LATE DIEDRICH KNICKERBOCKER.

A pleasing land of drowsy head it was,

Of dreams that wave before the half-shut eye;

And of gay castles in the clouds that pass,

Forever flushing round a summer sky.

Castle of Indolence.

In the bosom of one of those spacious coves which indent the eastern shore of the Hudson, at that broad expansion of the river denominated by the ancient Dutch navigators the Tappan Zee, and where they always prudently shortened sail and implored the protection of St. Nicholas when they crossed, there lies a small market town or rural port, which by some is called Greensburgh, but which is more generally and properly known by the name of Tarry Town. This name was given, we are told, in former days, by the good housewives of the adjacent country, from the inveterate propensity of their husbands to linger about the village tavern on market days. Be that as it may, I do not vouch for the fact, but merely advert to it, for the sake of being precise and authentic. Not far from this village, perhaps about two miles, there is a little valley or rather lap of land among high hills, which is one of the quietest places in the whole world. A small brook glides through it, with just murmur enough to lull one to repose; and the occasional whistle of a quail or tapping of a woodpecker is almost the only sound that ever breaks in upon the uniform tranquillity.

I recollect that, when a stripling, my first exploit in

squirrel-shooting was in a grove of tall walnut-trees that shades one

side of the valley. I had wandered into it at noontime, when all nature

is peculiarly quiet, and was startled by the roar of my own gun, as it

broke the Sabbath stillness around and was prolonged and reverberated

by the angry echoes. If ever I should wish for a retreat whither I might

steal from the world and its distractions, and dream quietly away the

remnant of a troubled life, I know of none more promising than this

little valley.

From the listless repose of the place, and the peculiar character of its

inhabitants, who are descendants from the original Dutch settlers, this

sequestered glen has long been known by the name of SLEEPY HOLLOW, and

its rustic lads are called the Sleepy Hollow Boys throughout all the

neighboring country. A drowsy, dreamy influence seems to hang over the

land, and to pervade the very atmosphere. Some say that the place

was bewitched by a High German doctor, during the early days of the

settlement; others, that an old Indian chief, the prophet or wizard of

his tribe, held his powwows there before the country was discovered by

Master Hendrick Hudson. Certain it is, the place still continues under

the sway of some witching power, that holds a spell over the minds of

the good people, causing them to walk in a continual reverie. They are

given to all kinds of marvellous beliefs, are subject to trances and

visions, and frequently see strange sights, and hear music and voices in

the air. The whole neighborhood abounds with local tales, haunted spots,

and twilight superstitions; stars shoot and meteors glare oftener across

the valley than in any other part of the country, and the nightmare,

with her whole ninefold, seems to make it the favorite scene of her

gambols.

The dominant spirit, however, that haunts this enchanted region, and

seems to be commander-in-chief of all the powers of the air, is the

Halloween Special:

The frugal and fearless, weird-seeking hero-philosopher Athenodorus is our kind of guy.

⁓The Voice before the Void

“The Haunted House”

from correspondence

Pliny the Younger

translated from the Latin by John Delaware Lewis and William Melmoth

edited by The Voice before the Void

There was at Athens a mansion, spacious and large, but of evil repute and dangerous to health. In the dead of the night a noise, resembling the clashing of iron, was frequently heard, which, if you listened more attentively, sounded like the rattling of chains, distant at first, but approaching nearer by degrees: immediately afterwards a spectre appeared in the form of an old man, of extremely emaciated and squalid appearance, with a long beard and bristly hair, wearing shackles on his legs and fetters on his hands, and shaking them. Hence the distressed occupants, by reason of their fears, passed miserable and horrible nights in sleeplessness. This want of sleep was followed by disease, and, their terrors increasing, by death. Even in the day time, though the spirit did not appear, yet the impression remained so strong upon their imaginations that it still seemed before their eyes, and kept them in perpetual alarm. Consequently the house was at length deserted and, condemned to solitude, was entirely abandoned to the dreadful ghost. However, in hopes that some tenant might be found who was ignorant of the fearful curse attached to the house, an advertisement was put up, giving notice that the house was either to be let or sold. It happened that Athenodorus the philosopher came to Athens at this time, and, reading the bill, enquired the price. The extraordinary cheapness raised his suspicion; nevertheless, when he had made inquiries and he heard the whole story, he was not only not discouraged but he was even more strongly inclined to rent the house, and, in short, did so. When it grew towards evening, he ordered a sofa to be prepared for him in the front part of the house, and, after calling for his notebooks, writing implements, and a light, directed all his servants to retire to the interior apartments. That his mind might not, from want of occupation, be open to the vain terrors of imaginary noises and spirits, Athenodorus applied himself to writing with the utmost attention. The first part of the night passed in entire silence. At length, a clanking of iron and rattling of chains was heard, yet Athenodorus never raised his eyes nor slackened his pen, but hardened his soul and deadened his ears. The noise grew and approached, till it seemed to be at the door, and at last inside the chamber. Athenodorus looked round, beheld, and recognized the figure exactly as it had been described to him. It was standing and signaling to him with its finger, as though inviting him. Athenodorus, in reply, made a sign with his hand that it should wait a moment, and applied himself afresh to his tablets and pen. Upon this, the ghost then rattled its chains over the head of the philosopher as he wrote. On looking round again, Athenodorus saw it beckoning as before, and immediately arose, took up a light, and followed it. The ghost slowly stalked along, as though oppressed by its chains, and after turning into the courtyard of the house, suddenly vanished. Athenodorus, being thus left to himself, made a mark with some plucked grass and leaves on the spot where the ghost left him. The next day he talked to the magistrates, and urged them to have that spot exhumed. This was done, and there were found there some bones attached to and intermingled with chains; the body to which they had belonged, putrefied and mouldered away by time and the soil....

Halloween Special:

Cool weird horror poetry.

⁓The Voice before the Void

“The Nightmare Lake”

H.P. Lovecraft

There is a lake in distant Zan,

Beyond the wonted haunts of man,

Where broods alone in a hideous state

A spirit dead and desolate;

A spirit ancient and unholy,

Heavy with fearsome melancholy,

Which from the waters dull and dense

Draws vapors cursed with pestilence.

Around the banks, a mire of clay,

Sprawl things offensive in decay,

And curious birds that reach that shore

Are seen by mortals nevermore.

Here shines by day the searing sun

On glassy wastes beheld by none,

And here by night pale moonbeams flow

Into the deeps that yawn below.

In nightmares only is it told

What scenes beneath those beams unfold;

What scenes, too old for human sight,

Lie sunken there in endless night;

For in those depths there only pace

The shadows of a voiceless race.

One midnight, redolent of ill,

I saw that lake, asleep and still;

While in the lurid sky there rode

A gibbous moon that glow’d and glow’d.

I saw the stretching marshy shore,

And the foul things those marshes bore:

Lizards and snakes convuls’d and dying;

Ravens and vampires putrefying;

All these, and hov’ring o’er the dead,

Narcophagi that on them fed.

And as the dreadful moon climb’d high,

Fright’ning the stars from out the sky,

I saw the lake’s dull water glow

Till sunken things appear’d below.

There shone unnumber’d fathoms down,

The tow’rs of a forgotten town;

The tarnish’d domes and mossy walls;

Weed-tangled spires and empty halls;

Deserted fanes and vaults of dread,

And streets of gold uncoveted.

These I beheld, and saw beside

A horde of shapeless shadows glide;

A noxious horde which to my glance

Seem’d moving in a hideous dance

Round slimy sepulchres that lay

Beside a never-travell’d way.

Straight from those tombs a heaving rose

That vex’d the waters’ dull repose,

While lethal shades of upper space

Howl’d at the moon’s sardonic face.

Then sank the lake within its bed,

Suck’d down to caverns of the dead,

Till from the reeking, new-stript earth

Curl’d foetid fumes of noisome birth.

About the city, nigh uncover’d,

The monstrous dancing shadows hover’d,

When lo! there oped with sudden stir

The portal of each sepulchre!

No ear may learn, no tongue may tell

What nameless horror then befell.

I see that lake—that moon agrin—

That city and the things within—

Waking, I pray that on that shore

The nightmare lake may sink no more!

Odd and supreme beauty from Norway.

⁓The Voice before the Void

“The Father”

Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

translated from the Norwegian by R.B. Anderson

The man whose story is here to be told was the wealthiest and most influential person in his parish; his name was Thord Overaas. He appeared in the priest’s study one day, tall and earnest.

“I have gotten a son,” said he, “and I wish to present him for baptism.”

“What shall his name be?”

“Finn,–after my father.”

“And the sponsors?”

They were mentioned, and proved to be the best men and women of Thord’s relations in the parish.

“Is there anything else?” inquired the priest, and looked up.

The peasant hesitated a little.

“I should like very much to have him baptized by himself,” said he, finally.

“That is to say on a week-day?”

“Next Saturday, at twelve o’clock noon.”

“Is there anything else?” inquired the priest.

“There is nothing else;” and the peasant twirled his cap, as though he were about to go.

Then the priest rose. “There is yet this, however,” said he, and walking toward Thord, he took him by the hand and looked gravely into his eyes: “God grant that the child may become a blessing to you!”

One day sixteen years later, Thord stood once more in the priest’s study.

“Really, you carry your age astonishingly well, Thord,” said the priest; for he saw no change whatever in the man.

“That is because I have no troubles,” replied Thord.

To this the priest said nothing, but after a while he asked: “What is your pleasure this evening?”

“I have come this evening about that son of mine who is to be confirmed to-morrow.”

“He is a bright boy.”

“I did not wish to pay the priest until I heard what number the boy would have when he takes his place in church to-morrow.”

“He will stand number one.”

“So I have heard; and here are ten dollars for the priest.”

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” inquired the priest, fixing his eyes on Thord.

“There is nothing else.”

Thord went out.

Eight years more rolled by, and then one day a noise was heard outside of the priest’s study, for many men were approaching, and at their head was Thord, who entered first.

The priest looked up and recognized him.

“You come well attended this evening, Thord,” said he.

“I am here to request that the banns may be published for my son; he is about to marry Karen Storliden, daughter of Gudmund, who stands here beside me.”

“Why, that is the richest girl in the parish.”

“So they say,” replied the peasant, stroking back his hair with one hand.

The priest sat a while as if in deep thought, then entered the names in his book, without making any comments, and the men wrote their signatures underneath. Thord laid three dollars on the table.

“One is all I am to have,” said the priest.

“I know that very well; but he is my only child, I want to do it handsomely.”

The priest took the money.

“This is now the third time, Thord, that you have come here on your son’s account.”

“But now I am through with him,” said Thord, and folding up his pocket-book he said farewell and walked away.

The men slowly followed him.

A fortnight later, the father and son were rowing across the lake, one calm, still day, to Storliden to make arrangements for the wedding.

“This thwart is not secure,” said the son, and stood up to straighten the seat on which h...

We do not know when the end will come, but we do know that the end will come.

⁓The Voice before the Void

“Ragnarok, The Twilight of the Gods”

from Bulfinch’s Mythology

Thomas Bulfinch

It was a firm belief of the northern nations that a time would come when all the visible creation, the gods of Valhalla and Niffleheim, the inhabitants of Jotunheim, Alfheim, and Midgard, together with their habitations, would be destroyed. The fearful day of destruction will not, however, be without its forerunners. First will come a triple winter, during which snow will fall from the four corners of the heavens, the frost be very severe, the wind piercing, the weather tempestuous, and the sun impart no gladness. Three such winters will pass away without being tempered by a single summer. Three other similar winters will then follow, during which war and discord will spread over the universe. The earth itself will be frightened and begin to tremble, the sea leave its basin, the heavens tear asunder, and men perish in great numbers, and the eagles of the air feast upon their still quivering bodies. The wolf Fenris will now break his bands, the Midgard serpent rise out of her bed in the sea, and Loki, released from his bonds, will join the enemies of the gods. Amidst the general devastation the sons of Muspelheim will rush forth under their leader Surtur, before and behind whom are flames and burning fire. Onward they ride over Bifrost, the rainbow bridge, which breaks under the horses’ hoofs. But they, disregarding its fall, direct their course to the battlefield called Vigrid. Thither also repair the wolf Fenris, the Midgard serpent, Loki with all the followers of Hela, and the Frost giants.

Heimdall now stands up and sounds the Giallar horn to assemble the gods and heroes for the contest. The gods advance, led on by Odin, who engages the wolf Fenris, but falls a victim to the monster, who is, however, slain by Vidar, Odin’s son. Thor gains great renown by killing the Midgard serpent, but recoils and falls dead, suffocated with the venom which the dying monster vomits over him. Loki and Heimdall meet and fight till they are both slain. The gods and their enemies having fallen in battle, Surtur, who has killed Freyr, darts fire and flames over the world, and the whole universe is burned. The sun becomes dim, the earth sinks into the ocean, the stars fall from heaven, and time is no more.

After this Alfadur (the Almighty) will cause a new heaven and a new earth to arise out of the sea. The new earth filled with abundant supplies will spontaneously produce its fruits without labor or care. Wickedness and misery will no more be known, but the gods and men will live happily together.