Friday, August 18, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.229: Horsingdon Bunker Field Report





Thursday 17th August 2017

The sinister hum of archaic (yet still functional) technologies forms the ubiquitous sonic background to the aura of praeternatural dread that suffuses Horsingdon Bunker. The question as to who is operating these machines - and for what purpose - is one which the guardians of the Black Bowers who have led me to this place refuse to answer.

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.228: Horsingdon Bunker Field Report 4



Wednesday 16th August 2017

One of the guardians of the Black Bowers leads silently and solemnly down an immense corridor - a signifier of what Roger Luckhurst refers to as 'institutional dread' - into the abyssal core of Horsingdon Bunker, where supposedly there await terrible secrets whose disclosure threatens to unravel the very fabric of reality...

Wednesday, August 16, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.227: Horsingdon Bunker Field Report 3




Tuesday 15th August 2017

A house in the woods: overgrown, deteriorating, partially-hidden by trees and untenanted - or is it? For this long-neglected building hides Horsingdon Bunker: a site haunted by many sinister secrets, and overshadowed by its proximity to absolute alterity: those terrifying, prenumbral realms of unknown entity, supposedly unlocked by the military scientists once deployed here, and who accidentally stumbled across a monstrous physics whilst fumbling blindly about unfathomable occult technologies extracted from the epistemological, cryptological and ideological detritus of post-war Europe; men and women who sought to excavate to the furthest foundations of reality, only to find it teetering on the edge of a  black abyss; men and women who did so at the behest of concepts - 'god', 'queen', and 'country' - which the knowledge they acquired must have surely rendered hollow and meaningless; men and women of who neither nor sound now remains.

Monday, August 14, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.226: Horsingdon Bunker Field Report 2




Monday 14th August 2017

The approach to Horsingdon Bunker leads through a thickly-wooded area dotted with rusting and heavily-overgrown coorugated outbuildings, overseen by an old watchtower. In a shed which stands just outside the bunker's entrance, there sits an abandoned military transport, upon which rests what appears to be an old plague doctor's mask: a piece of ritual apparel which, in the symbolic language of Horsingdon's folklore, represents the crow: both a harbinger of the transition from the realm of the living to that of the dead - thus a totem presaging the point of separation between our world and the world of the Dead Gods -  and as a ward against the pestilence and ontological corruption which infects our world when it comes into contact with the inhabitants of that zone: Those Who Wait.

In any case, the placement of such a ceremonial device speaks clearly as to the presence of the guardians of the Black Bowers at this location.

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.225: Horsingdon Bunker Field Report 1





Sunday 13th August 2017

The map co-ordinates provided to me by Frater X led me to a dirt track on the very outskirts of Horsingdon, close to the boundary which separates that borough from Trentford. Looming above me was yet another of those transmitter arrays which cast their weird sonic shadow over the region.

Frater X had already informed me that others of his Order would meet me at this location which, he also intimated, was also the site of the almost-mythic Horsingdon Bunker: a post-Cold War installation built by the MoD as a control centre from which to continue government and military operations in the event of the Cold War going hot - but repurposed (as rumour has it in conspiracy circles) by the mysterious Ministry in light of something supposedly referred to in top secret briefing documents as 'The Event'. Exactly what this is remains unclear, but apparently most of the evidence points towards the occurrance of a catastrophe of extinction-level magnitude - most likely as an outcome of an even more clandestine aspect of the Cold War: an arms race involving the attempted weaponization of inscrutable alien and occult technologies which, it is alleged, began at the tail-end of World War II.

In any case, Horsingdon Bunker has, over the past two decades, been the nucleus of a great deal of contemporary folklore, wherein it figures as the site of manifestation of any number of strange and outlandish paranormal occurances.

Sunday, August 13, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.224: Boreham's Folly (Part 2)


Saturday 11th August 2017

One of the guardians of the Black Bowers, lurking furtively about the gothic archway of Boreham’s Folly – a rare instance of members of this highly secretive community allowing someone who is not of their order to photograph them. This was also, in part an initiation and invitation: for reasons best known to themselves, this encounter with one of their number led to my inclusion in a psychogeographical exploration of the long abandoned and rumour-haunted Horsingdon bunker: a locale of such sinister repute that many of the region’s inhabitants refuse to acknowledge its existence. In any case, my meeting with the mysteriously named ‘Frater X’ at Boreham’s Folly led to a brief exchange, during which a time, date, and set of map coordinates were communicated to me.

Saturday, August 12, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.223: Boreham's Folly (Part 1)


Friday 10th August 2017

A view of Boreham's Folly in Horsingdon Wood: a mock ruin built in the form of a partially collapsed and dilapidated gothic archway, the folly is surrounded by rumour of the sinister occult geometries employed by James Boreham in its construction - and the even more sinister purposes for which it was commissioned. In any case, this proved to be the starting point for a curious series of events - constituting the Horsingdon Transmissions' first field report - which I will detail over the coming weeks.

Thursday, August 10, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.222: Alien Intrusions



I took the above photo of the transmitter array near Northwich Park whilst travelling home earlier this evening; only later did I notice the almost-perfect sphere which can be sen in the top left-hand corner of the image. I didn't observe the object at the time, so its appearance on the photo remains something baffling; its proximity, however, to one of the region's ubiquitous transmitters does raise disturbing questions regarding who - or what - is being called forth from out of the gulfs of space by the uncanny signals which, for unknown reasons, the arrays appear to continually broadcast with an almost religious fervour.

Wednesday, August 09, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.221: Stairway to the Abyss


As spaces of transition, stairways are also thresholds and boundary markers. They reaffirm the wider classificatory order and system of categorical distinctions, in part by reminding us of their own exclusion and anomalous status in relation to these orders: they are necessary partitions which reinforce the conceptual boundaries we purposely erect to hide the disarray of meaninglessness and the tumultous chaos which forms the ultimate lattice upon which reality is constructed. As such, stairways are uncertain and inchoate places and - as is the case with the above example, commissioned by James Boreham in the early 1900s, and which leads too-and-from nowhere -  are often haunted by the shifting forms of those indeterminate entities which inhabit the lawless Outside.

Tuesday, August 08, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.220: Star Spawn



Witnesses to the object shown hovering over Horsingdon Wood in tne above photo claim that it had an organc quality: less like the saucers or black triangles more commonly seen occupying the skies above Horsingdon and more akin to a globular mass, with a tadpole-like tail which moved from side-to-side as if the thing were swimming through some unseen medium. Shortly after the poto was taken, the object slowly faded from sight, as if transitioning into some other, unknown mode of being.

During his stay in the Horsingdon region, Roland Franklyn notes that he had the opportunity to consult a number of manuscripts written by James Boreham, one of which described in detail occult experiments conducted on the crest of Horsingdon Hill, during which Boreham apparently called forth from some benighted abyss something he refered to as 'the grave-looting spawn of the stars' - something which Frankly describes, albeit at second hand, as resembling what the witnesses to the above object claimed to have seen.

Monday, August 07, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.219: The Sign in the Underpass



This underpass is where Horsingdon Lane crosses the Grand Union Canal at the foot of Horsingdon Hill. Just visible on the wall of the underpass is what appears to be a curious piece of graffiti, delineating a series of interlocking symbols in an unknown language or as-yet-undecipherable system of signification.

There is nothing else remarkable about the underpass - other than the curious fact that the publicly-available records of Horsingdon Council's Department of Highways and Infrastructure have rigorously documented the existence of this piece of graffiti since the late 1960s, noting that it has consistently resisted multiple attempts at removal. Exactly why this fact has been recurrently noted in the archives is unclear - but it is certainly the case that, throughout the decades, employees on the Highways and Infrastructure team have received regular complaints regarding the unsightly scrawl, and have, for some reason, treated its erasure as a priority.

Whether this has anything to do with rumours concerning the not-insignificant number of people who, over the years, have apparently gone unaccountably missing in the vicinity of the underpass, the archives fail to record.

Sunday, August 06, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.218: A Saucer Full Of Secrets


The above photo claims to depict the sideview of a large, saucer-like object which apparently appeared above the rooftops of Horsingdon last night. Such visitations - if indeed they are genuine intrusions from other worlds and not the result of misidentification - are invariably brief, and rarely leave any clue as to their purpose. Witnesses to such manifestations typically infer a meaningful agency behind them - yet the behaviour of these phenomena rarely conforms to comprehensible standards of human intentionality.

There are, however, things about Horsingdon which will always persist in their unknown and unknowable status, some truths which by necessity must remain unutterable - and some secrets which will forever resist disclosure. And or the sake and sanity of the region's inhabitants, that may befor the best.

Saturday, August 05, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.217: The Fungi from Hufford



A scant few acres distant from Horsingdon Wood, strange fungi sprout from the rich, loamy earth of Hufford Copse. Much like its larger, more heavily-forested neighbour, Hufford Copse has long been haunted by reports of strange lights hovering over its arboreal canopy, and of curious, unforseen mists which suddenly envelop wayfarers who, after the mist disperses as suddenly as it has appeared, are never seen again.

When encountering the fungi on a casual stroll through the Copse, local residents know that they are best left well alone - for the fungi are cultivated by the guardians of the Black Bowers and, whilst highly poisonous, supposedly possess remarkable properties. Thus it is said that, if prepared according to the proper rites and by following certain esoteric formulae, the fungi can be breweed into a potent wine which, once supped, will produce in the imbiber the most fantastic and vivid dreams - dreams which seem to transport the percipient to strange worlds: fabulous realms of alien wonder which lie far beyond the speculated boundaries of the space-time continuum which we currently inhabit.

It is also said that a profound danger resides in the consumption of this fungal wine: that it not only opens the doorways of perception to the Outer Spheres, but also doorways of another kind - portals which enable the monstrous denizens of those zones of phantasmagoric wonder and horror to gain purchase into our world. Needless to say, the lore of the guardians of the Black Bowers is replete with the terrible fates and monstrous transfigurations effecting those who have drunken of the fungal wine too readily, too greedily, and too frequently.

Friday, August 04, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.216: Tales from the Riverbank


The River Colne follows the Ebury Way out of Trentford, feeding the Grand Union Canal on its journey. Never sounding more than two feet at its deepest as it meanders lazily through the district, as the intersection of so many points of the region's praeternatural topography, the river has nevertheless given rise to many curious tales regarding what lurks around its banks and within its waters: of writhing, oblong shapes seen swimming in the darkness; of strange faces staring evilly out of the waters at unsuspecting ramblers; of webbed hands - and worse - reaching up from the shallows to grasp at the ankles of passers-by; of casual wayfarers dragged suddenly and unexpectedly into the watercourse whose bodies are never recovered; of scaly, horse-like heads seen rising slowly from the river, surmounted on long, sinuous necks...

None of these tales could possibly have any substance too them, as the river is too narrow and to shallow to support such a diverse and monstrous bestiary; nonetheless, One would be hard pressed to find a resident of Horsingdon, Northwich or Trentford willing to spend a day fishing from the banks of this otherwise calm and sedately-flowing rivulet.

Thursday, August 03, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.215: Beacons


Many of the churches and houses in Horsingdon – especially those built before the 1950s – sport slatted cupolas. It was once traditional for households to place a lantern or candle in these cupolas on the night of certain festivals (typically May Eve and All Hallows).

According to the folklore of the region, the purpose of this common practice was apotropaic: a light meant to protect against the hours of darkness  – specifically against those Powers of Night believed to inhabit its abyssal depths. The guardians of the Black Bowers, however, entertain a widely different interpretation of the custom, claiming that the lights were meant as beacons, the intention of which was to call forth that which lurks within the devouring darkness - hence the frequency with which at least one unfortunate resident (if not an entire household) would be found to be missing from their home on the morning following one of these ancient festivals…

Wednesday, August 02, 2017

The Horsingdon Transmissions No.214: Ungathered Dust


This somewhat unremarkable stone marks a site once sacred to Those Who Wait, and in times past the Horsingdon coven celebrated many wild and bloody rites about its fulcrum. It is said that the stone once gave shape to the monstrous form of one of those terrible Powers; but the universe grinds unceasingly on, operating to fixed algorithms wholly indifferent to anything which exists outside their sphere of pure, mathematical abstraction, such that whatever abyssal form was once enrobed in the stone’s ancient granite has since been reduced to a lonely ghost of ungathered dust - the inevitable fate of humanity and all its works - by the erosions of time.


Tuesday, August 01, 2017

The Horsington Transmissions No.213: The Last Church


The Church of St. John has long been abandoned by its congregation, whose numbers were never sizeable in any case. Attempts at renovating or demolishing the building have thusfar resulted in failure - primarily on account of Horsingdon Council refusing planning permission for any projects involving the church. It is said that on entering the church, one does not encounter that sense of peaceful quietude, tinged with a hint of incense, which one typically associates with such sacred spaces; instead, an aura of malignancy is said to hang about its pews and pillars - and it is this which was responsible for the church's eventual dessertion.

According to the guardians of the Black Bowers, the reason for this pervasive aura of dread and lurking evil lies in the fact of the church having been built on a site long sacred to Those Who Wait; in addition to which, the guardians claim it will also become the last church - indeed, the very last church on Earth - when those monstrous Powers return to resume their ministry