An accelerative shift favouring hauntological static has been notable in the balance of signal-to-noise where Horsingdon's transmitter arrays have been concerned. In a matter of a few short days, the airwaves have been subject to unprecedented colonisation by strange and hyperstitial aural spectralities; they have spread with a mutable, liquid velocity, transforming even the most benign transmissions into a source of disquiet and dread: the parochial, comforting voice of a well-loved presenter becomes malign, distorted, and suggestive of terrible secrets; children's hour echoes with the fairytale sing-song horror of sinister and forgotten Machenesque languages - symbol-sounds resonant with the signification of an unspeakable witchlore; the afternoon play strectches on endlessly, the voices of the actors becoming sparse and faint, as if lost within the vast and hollow confines of a recording studio whose cobwebbed walls have come to encompass a whole, haunted universe...
All of this is unsurprising. Such things are anticipated - expected, even - as All Hallows Eve steps another day closer to the borders of Horsingdon.
No comments:
Post a Comment