Tales from Havering-Atte-Bower

Snapshots from Havering-Atte-Bower 

(SA/2026)

 

 

I. 

 

Havering-Atte-Bower is a semi-rural village 345 feet above sea level. It lies just a few short miles up the road from my house in Harold Hill - or a world away, depending on how you measure these things.

 

The first part of the name is Saxon in origin, dating back to the 11th-century reign of Edward the Confessor. It refers to a great landowner known as Hæfer. Literally translating to he-goat, we can assume he was either a man devilishly aware of himself, or simply rank-smelling. 

 

The suffix - pronounced to rhyme with catty and flower - was added by 1272 and marks the village's history as the site of a royal residence. Known as The Bower, this part-palace, part-rustic retreat fell into ruin and was pulled down in the 17th century.

 

 

II. 

  

A 20-minute ride on the 375 bus from Romford station brings you to the village green. Alight here to find a sign announcing the village's 1042 founding, alongside the original village stocks and an old whipping post. 

 

Fortunately, these are no longer in use, though under the current Reform UK council you never know what the future will bring. Still, I doubt even Nigel Farage and co. would revive the practice of ducking witches, though the pond for such is located just across the road (if now overgrown with reeds). 

  

Other landmarks include St. John's Church, constructed in the 1870s by architect Basil Champneys on the site of a medieval chapel, and Havering Country Park, home to one of England's only two giant redwood plantations imported from California. There is also the white-walled water tower on Broxhill Road, built in 1934 (we were told as children in the 1970s that the pop star David Essex lived there).    

 

Finally, there's the traditional village pub: The Orange Tree, on Orange Tree Hill. Licensed premises have stood on this site since at least 1754, under various names, and not only does The Orange Tree serve food but they actively encourage vertical drinking for those who like to stand by the bar and socialise.  

III.  

As Essex villages go, Havering-Atte-Bower possesses all the features that make them so beloved. And despite the fact that it is, technically, part of Greater London, it still feels as if one were (almost) in the countryside, surrounded as it is by green belt fields and farmland, and offering some lovely views. 

 

However, I regret to inform readers that it's also an ecological dead zone: I spent an entire afternoon there and didn't hear a single note of birdsong, nor the distinct buzz of insects in the long grass. There's just the relentless sound of cars. 

 

Havering boasts of being one of London's greenest boroughs. Yet its tree canopy has plummeted from 25% in 2018 to just 14% today, and nearly all the wildflower meadows of my youth are gone. Natural habitats face relentless pressure and animal numbers continue to decline. 

 

It's not just the huge impact of new housing developments and the gradual erosion of green spaces. Decades of intensive agriculture - ripping up hedgerows and spraying fields with poison - have wiped out the insects, leaving birds and small creatures to starve. 

 

Intense summer heatwaves, arson-induced wildfires, and the illegal dumping of rubbish obviously compound the damage. 

 

The UK-wide biodiversity crisis is profoundly depressing. And, despite the efforts of conservation groups fighting to restore local ecosystems and rewild certain areas, I hold out little hope, to be honest.

 

One can't help wondering what Hæfer would make of the county he knew and loved now deprived of its breeding birds and large beasts, its rivers and ponds once teeming with fish now polluted.   

 

 

Musical bonus: Killing Joke, 'Goodbye to the Village', from the album Brighter Than a Thousand Suns (E.G. Records /Virgin Records 1986). 

 

 

On the Temptation of Christ

Detail of an image showing the Devil bearing Jesus 

found in an old French liturgical book (c. 1470-75) 

Collection: Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library 

(MS 425, fol. 48r) [1]

 

 

... the devil taketh him up into an exceeding high mountain, 

and sheweth him all the kingdoms of the world, and the glory of them ... 

                                                       - Matthew 4:8 (KJV)

 

 

I.

 

The biblical verses pertaining to the Temptation of Christ are among the most critically (and theologically) fascinating verses in the New Testament.

 

For these verses tell us something crucial about Jesus that any thoughtful and naturally questioning person who thinks the story of Christ through to the bitter end will ultimately have to acknowledge; namely, that Jesus was a kind of idiot [2] whose teachings were inadequate and displayed a fatal misunderstanding of the nature (and limits) of man.

 

For those who are unfamiliar with the verses and don't have the Good Book to hand, here's how they appear in Matthew 4:1-11 (KJV): 

 

 

1 Then was Jesus led up of the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted of the devil. 

 

2 And when he had fasted forty days and forty nights, he was afterward an hungred. 

 

3 And when the tempter came to him, he said, If thou be the Son of God, command that these stones be made bread. 

 

4 But he answered and said, It is written, Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God. 

 

5 Then the devil taketh him up into the holy city, and setteth him on a pinnacle of the temple, 

 

6 And saith unto him, If thou be the Son of God, cast thyself down: for it is written, He shall give his angels charge concerning thee: and in their hands they shall bear thee up, lest at any time thou dash thy foot against a stone. 

 

7 Jesus said unto him, It is written again, Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God. 

 

8 Again, the devil taketh him up into an exceeding high mountain, and sheweth him all the kingdoms of the world, and the glory of them; 

 

9 And saith unto him, All these things will I give thee, if thou wilt fall down and worship me. 

 

10 Then saith Jesus unto him, Get thee hence, Satan: for it is written, Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve. 

 

11 Then the devil leaveth him, and, behold, angels came and ministered unto him.

 

 

II. 

 

It's this version of the narrative that we shall base our reading upon here, essentially arguing - in agreement with Dostoevsky and D. H. Lawrence - that man doesn't want freedom (or even salvation), but demands rather miracle, mystery, and a powerful authority to whom he can willingly submit.

 

Only a very rare few can find fulfilment without these things and establish lives of sovereign individuality. Jesus either couldn't or wouldn't see this and via his ideal teaching he makes "demands greater than the nature of man can bear" [3]. 

 

Thus, if you want to establish a Christian Church and State, you're going to have to turn to "that other great Spirit" [4] who loves man for what he is and not for what he ought to be: the Father of Lies and Prince of Darkness, Satan.      

 

 

III. 

 

The first temptation takes place in the Judean desert, where Jesus has been fasting for forty days and forty nights; a symbolic period of trial and spiritual endurance within biblical mythology, during which Christ demonstrated his total reliance on God. 

 

The devil encouraged Jesus to surrender to his hunger and prove his divinity by turning desert rocks into bread, but, being the religious fanatic that he was, Jesus simply mumbled something about man not living by bread alone. 

      

One can't help wishing he'd replied rather: I can resist everything except temptation [5] and conjured up a fabulous feast, inviting the Devil to join him - that would have been the wittier thing to say and also would have thrown the Devil on the back foot; Jesus would have turned the tables and upped the stakes via an act of what anthropologists term potlatch. 

 

But, of course, Jesus is completely humourless - he is not recorded laughing even once throughout the New Testament, let alone cracking a good joke or making a genuinely witty remark of the kind Wilde was famous for. 

 

So we get the now proverbial line about bread which Dostoevsky's Grand Inquisitor says was his first mistake: Feed men, and then ask of them virtue [6] - that's the formula if one wishes to produce loyal followers. And if that bread happens to be produced miraculously from stone, all the better; men who are both well-fed and given a magical display of power will be doubly loyal [7]. 

 

D. H. Lawrence develops this criticism of Jesus. Like the Inquisitor, he insists that man "demands bread: and not merely as foodstuff, but as a miracle, given from the hand of God [...] The earthly bread must in itself be the miracle, and be bound up with the miracle [...] The earthly bread is leavened with the heavenly bread" [8].  

 

IV.  

 

The second temptation of Christ unfolds when the devil takes Jesus to the highest point of the temple in Jerusalem and urges him to throw himself over the edge, quoting scripture (Psalm 91:11-12) in support of the idea that the angels of Heaven would catch him, were he truly the Son of God and not just some delusional carpenter. 

 

This was an attempt not only to force Jesus into making a dramatic display of his divine status, but to manipulate God also into taking action. Predictably, Jesus declined to jump and refused to put his Father to the test.

 

Again, for me at least, it would have been more interesting had he succumbed to temptation and accepted the challenge. Or indeed if he had said something along the lines of 'Let's find out if the demons of Hell are as prepared to catch you as the angels me', and thrown the Devil off the top of the temple.

 

Casting himself down from the temple to be caught by angels - or turning the tables on the devil by pushing him from the temple - would, much like the stone-into-bread trick, demonstrate his godhood in the minds of the people and they would abandon their old ways and follow him to heaven and back.

 

But then I'm not a Christian and I suppose what I'm suggesting is, much like the Grand Inquisitor's philosophy, Satanic in character. 

 

 

V. 

 

Finally, the devil offers Jesus authority and political power over all the magnificent kingdoms of the Earth - providing that Jesus abandons his mission, derails God's plan, and agrees to kneel before him. 

 

Taking charge in this manner would ensure universal salvation, the Grand Inquisitor claims. But Jesus isn't tempted and firmly commands the devil to fuck off - Get thee hence! - making it clear that he submits to and serves no one other than his Father.

 

Lawrence is convinced that Jesus should have accepted earthly power and the responsibility of such; that he was profoundly and disastrously mistaken in his one-sided insistence on the Love ideal and his perverse self-absorption. 

 

For while he succeeds in providing a model of practice for the ascetic individual, by refusing to think of men as social beings and showing no understanding of how power and politics operate, Jesus surrenders us all to the State and opens the way for those who have no qualms about exercising power in the most brutal manner: 

 

"Jesus made it inevitable, when he said that the money belonged to Caesar. It was a mistake. Money means bread, and the bread of men belongs to no man. Money also means power, and it is monstrous to give power to the virtual enemy." [9] 

      

In his late essay 'The Risen Lord' (1929), Lawrence famously dreams of a very different Jesus: no longer a man of sorrows, but a power-lord who agrees to come down off his mountain top so that he might rule. Here is a Jesus with tongues of fire round his brows, not a crown of thorns, willing and able to take the devil on at his own game and resist those mechanical forces belonging to Mammon [10].   

 

It's a Jesus that the Grand Inquisitor would absolutely approve of. 

 

I suspect that the early founders of what became known as Christianity [11] quickly understood that it's the principles put forward by Satan - a kind of politics of evil - that allows for the long-term survival and success of an institution. Nietzsche writes of how, "with every extension of Christianity", it became more and more necessary to vulgarise the teachings of Jesus and incorporate "the doctrines and rites of every subterranean cult" [12]. 

 

 

VI.       

 

In conclusion: the Grand Inquisitor is quite right to say that the Catholic Church does not need Jesus - and that if he were to return, as promised, it would only throw a spanner in the works and interfere with their mission which is to rule mankind in the name of God, but using the Devil's tricks and techniques (even those which bring death and destruction).   

 

And even if Jesus himself were to kiss me on the lips, I would not say otherwise. For Dostoevsky's tale is, as Lawrence says, depressingly true whether we like it or not, presenting the "final and unanswerable criticism of Christ [...] borne out by the long experience of humanity" [13].   

 

Notes

 

[1] Artists have produced many visual representations of the Temptation of Christ, but this is by far my favourite, showing as it does Jesus being quite literally carried up the mountain. The image makes me smile, because Jesus appears to be no more than a large doll or dummy via whom the devil might ventriloquise his own Satanic philosophy.    

  

[2] The term idiot is used here in a philosophical sense that draws upon Nietzsche's characterisation of Jesus in The Anti-Christ (§ 29) as an idealist detached from material reality and living in his own inner world. It is highly likely that Nietzsche borrowed the term from Dostoevsky who used it in his 1869 novel of the same name to describe someone (Prince Lev Myshkin) who is equally pure in spirit, but seen as naive and foolish by others.  

 

[3] D. H. Lawrence, 'Introduction to The Grand Inquisitor, by F. M. Dostoevsky', Introductions and Reviews, ed. N. H. Reeve and John Worthen (Cambridge University Press, 2005), p. 128.

 

[4] Ibid., p.129. 

 

[5] This profoundly anti-Christian line was written by Oscar Wilde in his play Lady Windermere's Fan (1892) and is spoken by Lord Darlington in Act 1. 

 

[6] 'The Grand Inquisitor' is a story contained within Fyodor Dostoevsky's philosophical novel The Brothers Karamazov (1880). The line quoted is found in Book V, Chapter 5.   

 

[7] The Roman poet Juvenal would famously sum this up with the phrase panem et circenses - a practice of appeasing the people that he condemns. See Satire X in Book 4 of his Satires (a collection of satirical verses written between 100 and 127 AD). Today, we might say cibus rapidus et TikTok.   

 

[8] D. H. Lawrence, 'Introduction to The Grand Inquisitor, by F. M. Dostoevsky', Introductions and Reviews, pp. 128 and 132.  

 

[9] D. H. Lawrence, Apocalypse and the Writings on Revelation, ed. Mara Kalnins (Cambridge University Press, 1980), p. 146. 

 

[10] This essay can be found in Late Essays and Articles, ed. James T. Boulton (Cambridge University Press, 2004), pp. 265-273.  

 

[11] As Nietzsche points out, the term Christianity is already a misunderstanding (and a corruption) of the glad tidings taught by Christ. See The Anti-Christ (§ 39), where he claims there has only ever been one Christian - and he died on the cross. What followed in his name was a reversal and negation of the values he had lived his life by.     

 

[12] Nietzsche, The Anti-Christ (§ 37), trans. R. J. Hollingdale (Penguin Books, 1968), p. 149. Nietzsche refers to this as Christianity's fall into morbid-barbarism, but we could just as easily use the phrase cynical-satanism.     

 

[13] D. H. Lawrence, 'Introduction to The Grand Inquisitor, by F. M. Dostoevsky', Introductions and Reviews, p. 127. 

 

 

This is a sister post to (or variant of) an earlier (unexpected) text published on TTA discussing the Spanish Inquisition in relation to Dostoevsky's 'The Grand Inquisitor' (5 Aug 2026): click here. 

 

  

Nobody Expects a Post on the Spanish Inquisition! (Notes on Dostoevsky's The Grand Inquisitor)

 

The Spanish Inquisition Monty Python style: Cardinal Ximénez (Michael Palin), 

Cardinal Biggles (Terry Jones) and Cardinal Fang (Terry Gilliam)  

 

 

I. 

 

I have to admit that until very recently my knowledge of the Spanish Inquisition was largely shaped by a famous Monty Python sketch [1] which, when I was a child, I found frightening rather than funny: I think it was the red robes that scared me, although I was from a very early age highly sensitive to any display of religiosity and resistant to the idea of attending Sunday school.   

 

Having just read Dostoevsky's tale of the Grand Inquisitor, however - and having studied the history of the Spanish Inquisition in a little more detail - I now fully appreciate that it was no laughing matter for the thousands of people who were terrified, tortured, and killed and that I was right to childishly sense something sinister and malevolent about priests of every description.   

 

 

II.  

  

The Inquisition was originally established in 1231 by Pope Gregory IX, in an attempt to combat the spread of heresy; i.e., beliefs or opinions contrary to the established teachings of the Church. God may have given mankind free will, but make the wrong choice and you will be judged and punished accordingly. 

 

Inquisitors were allowed to investigate anyone, even on the slightest suspicion of wrongthink - regardless of whether there was or was not sufficient evidence to warrant an investigation - and those accused of heresy were not allowed to challenge their accusers. Cruel and ingenious methods of torture were often used in order to extract confessions of guilt.

 

The Spanish Inquisition, established by Pope Sixtus IV in 1478, was an early-modern revival of a medieval institution that had largely become irrelevant. D. H. Lawrence describes it as a "new fangled thing, peculiar to Spain, with her curious death-lust and her bullying; and, strictly, a Spanish-political instrument" [2] - i.e., both rabidly national in character and diabolic.  

 

Monarchs Ferdinand II and Isabella I were determined to maintain Spain as a devoutly Catholic country and the Inquisition operated more under royal control than papal authority, primarily targeting Jewish and Muslim converts to Christianity who were suspected of secretly practicing their former faiths [3], although it later gleefully targeted Protestants as a new type of heretic [4]. 

 

Under the first Inquisitor Generalis, Tomás de Torquemada, prosecutions rapidly expanded throughout Spain and the areas it controlled and more than 2,000 accused individuals were burnt at the stake as an auto da fé. The name Torquemada is now rightly associated with religious intolerance and fanaticism [5]. 

 

All in all, it has been estimated that 150,000 people were prosecuted by the Inquisition and of these, perhaps as many as 5,000 were executed. Others were either flogged in public, enslaved on ships, forced into exile, or imprisoned (sometimes for life). Any properties belonging to these poor souls were, of course, confiscated by the State (nudge, nudge, wink, wink - say no more).  

 

 

III. 

 

While history records the bureaucratic greed and physical cruelty of the real inquisitors, it took a novelist to lay bare the disturbing, inverted logic driving the institution's zeal. 

 

In Dostoevsky's 'The Grand Inquisitor' [6], Jesus himself has finally returned and is brought before the Inquisition in Seville, where the Grand Inquisitor defends the following crucial argument: only by adopting the principles of the Devil - not the Gospels - can the Catholic Church bring about mankind's unification. 

 

Thus, the Church no longer has any need for Jesus: We are not with Thee, but with him, and that is our secret! 

 

The Grand Inquisitor also informs Jesus he was fundamentally mistaken - that he should have given in to temptation - which, you have to admit, is a terrifically provocative and amusing idea and one which D. H. Lawrence not only picks up on, but ultimately endorses.   

 

 

IV.

 

In his younger days, when he first read Dostoevsky's story of the Grand Inquisitor, Lawrence was not impressed. It seemed to him rubbish: "just a piece of showing-off: a display of cynical-satanical pose which was simply irritating" [7].

 

But by the end of his life, Lawrence is able to admit that its central argument is depressingly true and it makes his heart sink: "I still see a trifle of cynical-satanical showing-off. But under that, I hear the final and unanswerable criticism of Christ [...] borne out by the long experience of humanity" [8]. 

 

Any thoughtful and naturally questioning person who thinks the story of Christ (and what becomes known as Christianity) through to the bitter end will, according to Lawrence, come to the same conclusion: Jesus was a kind of идиот whose teachings were inadequate and a fatal misunderstanding of the nature (and limits) of man. 

 

Ultimately, man doesn't want freedom (or even salvation), he demands rather miracle, mystery, and an authority to whom he must submit. Only a very rare few can live without these things and enjoy individual sovereignty. Jesus either couldn't or wouldn't see this and via his ideal teaching he makes "demands greater than the nature of man can bear" [9]. 

 

Thus, if you want to establish a Christian Church and State, you're going to have to turn to "that other great Spirit" [10] who loves man for what he is and not for what he ought to be: Satan. Dostoevsky is a marvellous visionary, but he is also a thinker of evil (which is at last merely a term for vivid life) and his diagnosis of human nature "is simple and unanswerable" [11]. 

 

What this means, then, is that Jesus should have been a little more Wildean and given in to temptation. Lawrence writes: "Jesus refused the three offers out of pride and fear: he wanted to be greater than these, and 'above' them. But we now realise that no man, not even Jesus, is really 'above' miracle, mystery, and authority." [12] 

 

And Jesus cannot be above money either: it cannot simply be rendered unto Caesar or left to the Devil: 

 

"Money is not life, it is true. But ignoring money and leaving it to the devil means handing over the great mass of men to the devil: for the mass of men cannot distinguish between money and life. It is hard to believe: certainly Jesus didn't believe it: and yet, as Dostoevsky and the Inquisitor point out, it is so." [13] 

 

So, where does this all leave us: must we too side with the Devil? 

 

Readers can decide that for themselves, but Lawrence suggests it may be possible to borrow certain things from the Devil without actually serving him or selling our souls. 

 

However, I'm a bit sceptical about that, although, unlike Lawrence, I don't worry about being seen as - what was the phrase he used to condemn Dostoevsky - cynical satanic and, push comes to shove, I'm sympathetic with the Devil and would always side with the anti-Christ, whatever the cost of so doing [14].   

 

 

 

A 1948 edition featuring wood engravings 

by Fritz Eichenberg  

 

  

Notes

 

[1] Written by Michael Palin and Terry Jones, this satirical (and unexpected) reimagining of the Spanish Inquisition became a running gag in the classic British sketch show Monty Python's Flying Circus. It first featured in the second episode of series two, broadcast on BBC1 on 22 September 1970. The catchphrase - 'Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!' - is now ingrained in the cultural imagination and lives on as an internet meme. 

      For those who wish to view the first sketch, please click here. I still don't find it funny, but no longer find it frightening either. 

 

[2] D. H. Lawrence, 'Introduction to The Grand Inquisitor, by F. M. Dostoevsky', Introductions and Reviews, ed. N. H. Reeve and John Worthen (Cambridge University Press, 2005), p. 131.

 

[3] The regulation of faith intensified following royal decrees issued in 1492 and 1502 ordering Jews and Muslims to either convert to Catholicism, go into exile, or face death. Hundreds of thousands of forced conversions, mass expulsions, and executions all resulted.

 

[4] The Inquisition wasn't only interested in identifying what we might think of as common or garden heretics; witches, sodomites, and Freemasons were also targeted. 

 

[5] Torquemada died in 1498 and was interred in the monastery to which he had semi-retired. His tomb was ransacked in 1832 - just two years before the Spanish Inquisition was finally disbanded - and his remains were allegedly stolen and ritually incinerated.

 

[6] 'The Grand Inquisitor' is a story contained within Fyodor Dostoevsky's philosophical novel The Brothers Karamazov (1880). It was first translated into English by Constance Garnett in 1912 (published by Heinemann).

 

[7] D. H. Lawrence, 'Introduction to The Grand Inquisitor, by F. M. Dostoevsky', Introductions and Reviews, p. 127. 

 

[8] Ibid. 

 

[9] Ibid., p. 128. 

 

[10] Ibid. p. 129. 

 

[11] Ibid. 

 

[12] Ibid., p. 130. 

 

[13] Ibid. For a sister post to this one on the tempation of Christ and Dostoevsky's 'The Grand Inquisitor', please click here.  

 

[14] Funnily enough, in a letter to Else Jaffe written in June 1929, Lawrence concedes to his sister-in-law that she is right, in a sense, to see him as siding with the anti-Christ, and a touch Satanisch (although he is not anti-life): "I am all for Lucifer, who is really the Morning Star." 

      See The Letters of D. H. Lawrence, ed. Keith Sagar and James T. Boulton (Cambridge University Press, 1993), pp. 331-332. 

 

 

For a sister post to this one on the tempation of Christ and Dostoevsky's 'The Grand Inquisitor', please click here.

 

 

Better to Be a Prosimian Than a Superhuman (Or Why I Prefer Lemurs to Lemurians)

A Lemurian in their cosmic-astral form dancing through the heavens [1] 

and a pair of lemurs in all their wet-nosed beauty ghosting in the forest

 

 

I.

 

Humanity is a species desperately insecure about its place in the universe. The Copernican revolution followed by the death of God hasn't helped matters. 

 

However, existential anxiety does in part explain the rise of numerous New Age mythologies which offer alternative histories of mankind based on pseudoarchaeology and various occult beliefs. 

 

The possibility that we are descended from superhuman - possibly alien - beings addresses the pathological need to feel not only exceptional but cosmically significant. We obsessively imagine ethereal ancestors to validate our uniqueness, while pushing the flesh-and-blood miracles staring back at us from the natural world to the edge of extinction. 

 

This is perfectly illustrated by the way in which a scientific hypothesis about a lost continent called Lemuria - intended to explain the presence of lemurs on Madagascar - was hijacked by theosophists in the late nineteenth century and transformed into a bizarre myth of a primal spiritually advanced species of man.  

 

In other words, humans decided that the evolutionary history of lemurs was of no great concern to them - even though, of course, their evolutionary history is our evolutionary history [2] - and that it was far more fascinating to invent a fictional race of giant, telepathic beings who once lived on a sunken continent: ladies and gentlemen, meet the Lemurians ... 

 

 

II.        

 

To understand how deeply this preference for conceited fantasy over objective scientific fact runs, we must look at how the myth of Lemuria developed. It did not begin with an esoteric vision; it began, rather, with a pile of bones and an attempt by British zoologist Philip Sclater in 1864 to solve a geographical puzzle [3].

 

Sclater noticed that fossilised remains of lemurs were found in both Madagascar and India, but, curiously, not in the landmasses between them. Before the mechanics of continental drift were understood, the only logical explanation Sclater could devise was a sunken land bridge beneath the Indian Ocean; a continent he named Lemuria, in honour of the primates whose ancient remains inspired him. 

 

Initially, then, Lemuria was a theory within respectable mainstream science. But after the famous German biologist Ernst Haeckel suggested in 1868 that Lemuria might also be the lost cradle of humanity, the idea was appropriated by thinkers outside the scientific community, including Helena Blavatsky and members of her Theosophical Society. 

 

They didn't give a shit about the evolution of lemurs or patterns of primate migration. They simply wanted a stage upon which they could play out their mad racial fantasies and conjure up visions of a lost world inhabited by a root-race of hermaphroditic superhumans channelling cosmic energy with sacred crystals [4].       

 

Theories about Lemuria were laid to rest when, in the 1960s, the scientific community finally accepted Alfred Wegener's theory of plate tectonics and continental drift, first proposed in 1912. However, the idea lived on in the popular imagination, especially among those prone to New Age beliefs, crackpot history, and pseudoarchaeology and there is now a vast body of fringe literature available for those with the time and patience [5]. 

  

It is now believed by those who like this sort of thing that the last of the Lemurians are holed up - literally - beneath Mount Shasta, in Northern California, in a hidden, jewel-encrusted city called Telos [6].   

 

 

III.  

 

Strip away all the comforting New Age delusions and a simple truth emerges: It is infinitely preferable to be a real wet-nosed prosimian than a mythical Lemurian. 

 

Certainly for my part, I have no desire to become spiritually superhuman. On the other hand, however, I would quite happily become-animal or reincarnate as any species [7] of forest-haunting lemur [8] subordinate to the alpha-female leading my troop.     

 

Being a lemur - i.e., an actual living creature - offers distinct advantages over being a Lemurian; i.e., a mythical being born of lost-continent lore. For one thing, you are actually alive - and that, as Lawrence says, is the most marvellous thing of all: "For man, as for flower and beast and bird, the supreme triumph is to be most vividly, most perfectly alive" [9].

 

Inhabiting a lush, tropical habitat, lemurs lead a relatively stress-free existence: foraging for food (which is plentiful and varied); sleeping, sunbathing, leaping from tree to tree, and cuddling up with other members of their tight-knit and highly cooperative family troops (a demokrasian'ny fikasihana as they say in Malagasy). 

 

Before the relatively recent arrival of man, lemurs enjoyed a safe and peaceful existence for tens of millions of years [10]. 

 

IV. 

 

So, we have to ask: Why do so many people find an imaginary humanoid more compelling than a biological organism, such as a strangely beautiful (and beautifully strange) lemur?

 

The answer is simple: myths flatter the human ego, whereas evolutionary reality demands humility. 

 

For the science reveals that our ancestors were not glowing, ethereal giants, but small, scurrying, bug-eating mammals that survived by clinging to branches in the dark. It demonstrates how we are intimately linked to the lemur through shared DNA, skeletal blueprints, and social impulses - and a lot of people find that disconcerting. 

 

In fact, those who subscribe to Idealism and myths of human exceptionalism despise all animals, including lemurs, because they remind us that we are fundamentally the same: eating, breathing, shitting, fucking, and dying just like them.  

 

To believe in Lemurians is to believe that we are the descendants of gods. It implies that the universe is a story centred entirely around the human potential to transcend our biology, our mortality, our terrestrial nature. It allows us to indulge in escapism, looking both backward and forward to a golden age of spiritual perfection while we busy ourselves actively destroying the Earth we live on.

 

The Lemurian is a sterile projection of Victorian and New Age anxieties: nothing more. The lemur is a miracle of evolution, perfectly adapted to an environment that they help maintain in one of the most biodiverse places on Earth [11]. 

 

When we trade the lemur for the Lemurian, we exchange a vital link to our own evolutionary history for a funfair mirror that reflects only our selves in a crazily distorted manner. Looking into the limpid amber eyes of a lemur [12] doesn't connect you to a fake spiritual hierarchy, but to the foundational elements of our own behaviour, including not only cognitive flexibility, but the need to be in touch - with other people, but also with plants and animals and inanimate objects [13].  

 

The next time you hear some idiot rambling on about the ancient wisdom of the lost continent of Lemuria or the spiritual aura of its fictional inhabitants, tell them to put down their crystals and go look at the vibrant chaos of the natural world unfolding in their own back garden. 

 

The phantom continent is exposed as a historical footnote born from a misunderstanding of what the fossil record was telling us. But the animals that inspired the myth are still there, clinging to survival in the forests of Madagascar. We don't need to invent a magical past to be a part of something wondrous. Reality is already spectacular enough. 

 

Stop looking for the Lemurian: celebrate the lemur!

 

Notes

 

[1] Artwork by Harry Rankin for the cover of the debut album by Sophia Space Agency, The Turning Blue, released on Lemurian Records (2026). For my thoughts on this dark ambient project by Melpomeni Kermanidou, please click here.   

 

[2] As primates, both humans and lemurs share a distant common ancestor. The split into two distinct suborders - humans belong to the Haplorhini along with other dry-nosed apes and monkeys; lemurs belong to the Strepsirrhini (wet-nosed primates) - occurred over sixty million years ago. 

      As those who have devoted their professional lives to studying lemurs will tell you, "both living species and their extinct relatives, are a crucial part of the human story", for despite millions of years separating us, "we still share genes, complex social lives, and many of the same susceptibilities to disease".  

      For more information, please visit the Duke Lemur Center, founded at Duke University (North Carolina) in 1966. The DLC is a world leader in the study, care, and protection of lemurs - Earth's most threatened group of mammals (although lemurs have thrived for tens of millions of years, human activity and climate change has now left many species either endangered or critically endangered).

 

[3] See Philip Lutley Sclater, 'The Mammals of Madagascar', in The Quarterly Journal of Science, Vol. 1, pp. 213-219.

 

[4] I really don't want to follow Blavatsky too far down the theosophical rabbit hole, but, in brief, she believed Lemurians to be the third of seven distinct root races from which modern humanity evolved. Exceedingly tall beings, Lemurians possessed a third eye via which they could perceive higher dimensions. Unfortunately, after discovering sex they began to mate with lower species. This led to their spiritual degeneration and eventual downfall (although, on the bright side for any primatologists reading, it did result in the creation of apes).

 

[5] See the work of James Churchward, for example, who developed the concept of Lemuria in several books published in the 1920s and '30s. He referred to it as the lost continent of Mu, however, and identified its location in the Pacific Ocean (also incorporating ideas to do with Atlantis into his work). 

      See also L. Sprague de Camp's classic study Lost Continents: The Atlantis Theme in History, Science, and Literature (Gnome Press, 1954). An updated version was published by Dover Press in 1970 and it remains one of the most reliable books on this subject.

 

[6] Mount Shasta - a potentially active volcano - has been the subject of a large number of myths and legends. In 1905, the American writer and mystic Frederick Spencer Oliver published his A Dweller on Two Planets which claimed that survivors from Lemuria had found refuge there after their own land sunk beneath the waves, building a complex system of tunnels and caves - carpeted with furs, apparently. 

      Later, Rosicrucian Harvey Spencer Lewis also wrote about the hidden Lemurians of Mount Shasta and his work - Lemuria: The Lost Continent of the Pacific (1931) - along with Oliver's, is largely responsible for the legend's widespread popularity. Predictably, belief in the US-based Lemurians has been incorporated into numerous new religious movements (or cults, as I think we might fairly call some of them) and today internet forums are still filled with people instructing you how to connect with your inner Lemurian.

 

[7] There are over a 120 recognised species of lemur divided across five main families. They are found exclusively in the wild on the island of Madagascar. Readers might be interested to know that with more than 200 animals across 13 species, the Duke Lemur Center (linked to above) houses the world's most diverse population of lemurs outside their native Madagascar.

      

[8] I say forest-haunting rather than simply forest-dwelling, as the name lemur comes from the Latin word lemures, meaning ghost. Carl Linnaeus chose this term in 1754 because of the nocturnal habits and slow movements of the animals and not, as is popularly believed, because of their large eyes that seem to glow in the dark and strange cries. 

 

[9] D. H. Lawrence, Apocalypse and the Writings on Revelation, ed. Mara Kalnins (Cambridge University Press, 1980), p. 149. 

 

[10] See Katherine Rundell, 'Consider the Lemur', in The London Review of Books, Vol. 40, No. 13 (5 July 2018), where she writes: "The early human arrivals on the island eradicated at least 15 species of lemur. Now, largely due to deforestation, 24 species are critically endangered, 49 are endangered and 94 per cent of all species are threatened." 

      Rundell also explains how until recently there was a strong taboo on hunting and eating lemurs, which were believed to be magical creatures (part cat, part monkey, part human, part demon) but this has now mostly been eroded: "So the myths have not saved the lemurs." 

  

[11] Madagascar scores exceptionally high for global biodiversity, ranking as a top megadiverse country with over 90% endemic species. The UK, by comparison, ranks in the bottom 10% worldwide for nature-depleted ecosystems, retaining only half of its original plant and animal life due to centuries of industrialisation and intensive land use.

 

[12] I'm thinking here of something written by William Burroughs in his short eco-surreal novel Ghost of Chance (1991), that was primarily set in Madagascar and addressed the subject of environmental destruction. Burroughs was particularly fond of lemurs and described them as having eyes like "limpid amber, in which the pupil floated like a glittering jewel, changing color with shifts of the light". The story ends with the author requesting readers donate to the Duke University Primate Center.

 

[13] Lawrence's democracy of touch - mentioned earlier in the post (in Malagasy) - is founded upon what he terms the mystery or inspiration of touch and by which he means: "The touch of the feet on the earth, the touch of the fingers on a tree, on a creature, the touch of hands and breasts, the touch of the whole body to body, and the interpenetration of passionate love." 

      See D. H. Lawrence, The First and Second Lady Chatterley Novels, ed. Dieter Mehl and Christa Jansohn, (Cambridge University Press, 1999), p. 323  

  

 

This post is for Meni.  

 

 

Leaving Lemuria

Sophia Space Agency in Cosmic-Lemurian 

Form and as Earthly-Stage Persona

 

 

I. 

 

For those who don't know, Lemuria is a mythical continent said to lie beneath the Indian Ocean. 

 

Its existence was first proposed by the English zoologist Philip Sclater in 1864, who was attempting to explain the presence of lemur fossils on Madagascar and the Indian subcontinent but not in continental Africa or the Middle East.

 

After controversial German biologist Ernst Haeckel suggested that Lemuria might also be the birthplace of mankind, the idea was taken up by thinkers outside the scientific community, including Mme. Blavatsky, occultist and founder of theosophy, who absorbed Lemuria into her mystical-religious doctrine.      

 

Blavatsky's writings were influential on many others within the esoteric tradition and before long everyone was excited by the myth of Lemuria and its early (but spiritually advanced) species of human [1].    

 

Theories about Lemuria became untenable when, in the 1960s, the scientific community finally accepted Alfred Wegener's theory of plate tectonics and continental drift, presented in 1912. However, the idea lived on in the popular imagination, especially among those prone to New Age beliefs, crackpot history, and pseudoarchaeology and there is a vast body of fringe literature available for those with the time and patience [2].  

 

 

II. 

 

Those who like this sort of thing seem to include the singer-songwriter and music producer Melpomeni Kermanidou, now working under the project name of Sophia Space Agency, whose seven-track, dark ambient album The Turning Blue was released last month on Lemurian Records [3]. 

 

As I have written about this album and the SSA in two earlier posts on Torpedo the Ark - click here and here - there's not a great deal more I can say here. But it does interest me to know: do the Lemurians represent an aspirational ideal for Miss Kermanidou?

 

She seems to be advocating a more harmonious way of life that balances alien spirituality, deep environmental responsibility, and a love of vintage fashion - so it could be argued that she feels a degree of kinship with these immensely wise (though imaginary) beings from the lost continent of Lemuria. 

 

Perhaps even she bears some kind of spiritual imprint ...? 

 

The SSA also invite us to explore the possibility of a multiverse and of worlds existing in a different dimension - perhaps the last of the Lemurians take shelter there, quietly guiding humanity toward enlightenment and polishing their sacred crystals ... Who knows? 

 

One wonders if Miss Kermanidou will eventually migrate from the world of dark ambience into that of Lemurian music per se - a genre which combines slow techno beats, ancient tribal sounds, and ambient frequencies designed to enhance meditation and bring out the Lemurian in all of us. 

 

As an artist who likes to develop in new directions, it's certainly possible. 

 

But perhaps at this point - and before she throws herself fully into all things Lemurian - let us recall something written by Jung in a letter of warning to Echidna Stillwell: 

 

 

[…] your attachment to a Lemurian cultural-strain disturbs me intensely. From my own point of view - based on the three most difficult cases I have encountered and their attendant abysmally archaic symbolism - it is no exaggeration to state that Lemuria condenses all that is most intrinsically horrific to the racial unconscious, and that the true Lemurians - who you seem intent upon rediscovering - are best left buried beneath the sea. I agree with the Theosophical writings at least this far: it was in order that the darkest sorceries should be erased by deluge that this continent of cultural possibility has been placed under the unconscious sign of definitive submergence. I know little enough about the nature of those that populated that cursed zone, but there are things I suspect, and the line of your own researches confirms my most ominous intimations. [4]

 

  

Notes

 

[1] I really don't want to follow Blavatsky too far down the theosophical rabbit hole, but, in brief, she believed Lemurians to be the third of seven distinct root races from which modern humanity evolved. Exceedingly tall beings - 12 to 15 feet in height - Lemurians possessed a third eye via which they could perceive higher dimensions. 

      Unfortunately, after discovering sex they began to mate with lower species. This led to their spiritual degeneration and eventual downfall (although, on the bright side for any primatologists reading, it did result in the creation of apes). 

 

[2] See the work of James Churchward, for example, who developed the concept of Lemuria in several books published in the 1920s and '30s. He referred to it as the lost continent of Mu, however, and identified its location in the Pacific Ocean (also incorporating ideas to do with Atlantis into his work). 

      See also L. Sprague de Camp's classic study Lost Continents: The Atlantis Theme in History, Science, and Literature (Gnome Press, 1954). An updated version was published by Dover Press in 1970 and it remains one of the most reliable books on this subject.   

 

[3] The link is to Spotify from where The Turning Blue can be downloaded. Readers who prefer their music the old-fashioned way, can pre-order a limited-edition vinyl album, released on 9 October 2026, from propermusic.com  

[4] This excerpt from a letter (allegedly) written by Jung to Echidna Stillwell and dated 27 Feb 1929 (for which there is no evidence of a reply) is quoted by Nick Land in 'Occultures', a text written in 1999 which can be found in Fanged Noumena: Collected Writings 1987-2007, ed. Robin Mackay and Ray Brassier (Urbanomic / Sequence Press, 2011), p. 549. 

      It can also be found in CCRU: Writings 1997-2003 (Urbanomic, 2022) under the title 'The Unlife of the Earth'.   

 

 

For a follow up post to this one on lemurs vs Lemurians (or natural history contra occult pseudoscience), please click here.    

 

 

Reflections on the Reality of Jesus in the Age of AI Chatbots

The Redeemed Christian Church of God [1]

 

What becomes of divinity when it reveals itself in icons, 

when it speaks to us through machines? 

  

 

I. 

 

This Saturday, as every Saturday, three African women in brightly-coloured dresses stand on a nearby street corner, smiling and spreading the Gospel. Because they are so friendly - and because it seems impolite to just walk past ignoring them - I invariably say hello and accept the leaflet being offered.

 

This week, it reads: JESUS is for REAL! And that naturally got me thinking once more about the latter as a philosophical concept ...

 

For our Christian friends, the Real is essentially the same as the True and the Good and it exists as the Ideal foundation of existence. God is Real and his reality includes not only all that is and has ever been but all that will be; i.e., it includes both the actual and the potential. 

 

I'm not a theologian, but I think that's a fair summary. God is conceived of as a huge Universal Mind and Reality is dependent upon his Will.    

 

 

II.

 

But what about Jesus? What can we say of his reality? 

 

I suppose that depends on which aspect of Jesus one wishes to discuss. 

 

For example, there's the historical Jesus, a 1st-century preacher from Galilee to whom we might accord mortal reality and an all-too-human existence. 

 

But then, on the other hand, there's the figure whom believers think of as the Christ: a semi-divine being who transcends his human reality and historical time and place; an Ideal Jesus who has eternal reality. 

 

For non-believers, this is a mytho-fictional figure born of the religious imagination; one who occupies a virtual space and exerts a powerful cultural influence even though they may lack any objective reality.   

 

I suppose if I'm interested in Jesus at all, it's in the latter. I'm particularly fascinated with the way in which the image of Jesus as a religious icon is mediated in contemporary culture - a subject discussed by the French philosopher Jean Baudrillard ...

   

III.

 

In America (1986), Baudrillard briefly mentions Jesus, observing how marble statues of Christ in Salt Lake City were all copied from Thorwaldsen's famous work of 1833 and made him "look like Bjorn Borg" [2]; i.e., a popular contemporary figure from the world of sports rather than a transcendent historical icon.

 

In other words, Baudrillard argued that the modern image of Christ reflects the present ideal of the perfect man and functions as just another part of the hyperreal landscape; religious art merging seamlessly with mass-media aesthetics.

 

His thinking here developed earlier ideas found in Simulacra and Simulation (1981) [3]. In this crucial text, Baudrillard analysed the role played by religious icons in the simulation of God, eventually replacing the original reality they were intended to represent. 

 

Here's how the game works in four easy to follow stages:    

 

(i) Start with early Christian signs and symbols, artworks and images: these were thought to embody and reflect a profound reality: God is all-powerful and ever-present and Jesus was His Son.  

 

(ii) Eventually, however, the evil genius of the image [4] begins to disguise and corrupt this reality. Art begins to depict Jesus not as he was, but as the Medieval mind wanted to see him; i.e., less Middle Eastern Jew and more Aryan superman used to justify crusades and European imperialism. Nevertheless, if pushed, everyone still agrees that an underlying reality (tied to Truth and Goodness and Beauty) still exists. 

 

(iii) In phase 3, the image - now mass produced within modern secular society - masks the absence of any such reality (Baudrillard calls this an act of sorcery). Jesus is seen everywhere, but his likeness no longer means anything and is no longer connected to a spiritual truth, nor even a historical reality. It mostly exists to trigger a consumerist response (think of the multiple gift shops located in the Vatican).    

 

(iv) Finally, we get pure simulacrum in the age of hyperreality; the image bears no relation to any reality whatsoever. Jesus is now merely a meme on social media or an AI chatbot designed to give comforting advice to those in need. Jesus is now just a copy of a copy of a copy; he refers only to other media images and functions completely independently of history, theology, or reality. 

 

Baudrillard was right here as he was right so many other times in so many other places: the religious iconoclast didn't destroy images because they were afraid such might insult or offend God - but because they intuitively understood that such images would ultimately prevail over God and succeed in making him untenable.   

 

Who needs Jesus to be for real when you can simulate his existence - and even his presence - with digital technology? A blessedly large language model trained on biblical writings and other religious texts can create a theo-algorithmic echo chamber so perfect that one might almost describe it as heavenly [5]. 

  

 

Notes

 

[1] The Redeemed Christian Church of God is a Pentecostal megachurch founded in 1952 by Pa Josiah Akindayomi in Nigeria. Today, it is one of the largest church denominations in the world with over nine million members located in almost 200 countries and territories. After Akindayomi's death in 1980, pastor Enoch A. Adeboye, a former university lecturer, became the RCCG's General Overseer.

 

[2] See Jean Baudrillard, America, trans. Chris Turner (Verso, 1989), p. 2.

 

[3] See Jean Baudrillard, 'The Precession of Simulacra', in Simulacra and Simulation, trans. Sheila Faria Glaser (The University of Michigan Press, 1994). 

 

[4] Playing on Descartes's concept of the malin génie, Baudrillard suggests that the image is a diabolical force that doesn't innocently reflect a pre-existing reality; rather, it ultimately works to replace the real via a process of simulation. 

      'The Evil Demon of Images' was originally a paper delivered by Baudrillard at the University of Sydney in July 1984. It was first published three years later by the Power Institute of Fine Arts and can be found in The Jean Baudrillard Reader, ed. Steve Redhead (Edinburgh University Press, 2008), pp. 83-98. 

 

[5] Baudrillard died in 2007 so didn't live to see the rise of the Ask Jesus AI chatbot, but it fits perfectly into his hyperreal scheme of things. Users claim to find the instant, personalised responses of the AI more comforting or emotionally validating than reciting traditional prayers or reading ancient scripture. 

      That is why they actively participate in the illusion, even whilst knowing they are chatting with a machinic intelligence and not communing with the Holy Spirit. What it might mean for the future of faith and organised religion when divine authority is outsourced to code, I don't know, but D. H. Lawrence warned long ago that man will first come to worship his machines, then come to resemble them. 

      See the essay titled 'D. H. Lawrence Against the Machine', by Micah Paul Veillon, in The European Conservative (17 June 2023).  

 

Larval Subjects: the Opening of an X-File

 

 An Anonymous Larval Subject

 

D'où sortaient de noirs bataillons de larves ...

 

 

I. 

 

In a lengthy comment following a post by guest writer Jeff Francis, an anonymous author - whom I shall refer to here as X - rather grandly declares to the world that their intention is to personally detach themselves from Torpedo the Ark in order to "multiply like larvae in our scattered commentaries" [1].  

 

It's a seemingly bizarre and somewhat grotesque thing to say. 

 

However, when we examine the idea closely, we discover that larval subjectivity has a fascinating and complex history involving entomology, European philosophy, poetry, and fictional works of body horror and human metamorphosis.   

 

So, while X is certainly prone to self-dramatising and affectation, they're clearly not an idiot nor a typical troll.  

 

 

II.

 

A friend of mine who happens to be an entomologist working for the Department of Agriculture in Miller's Grove, Massachusetts tells me that a larva (plural larvae) is the distinct and highly specialised immature growth stage of an insect undergoing metamorphosis. 

 

Essentially, the larva is just an eating machine that serves as a biological bridge between the egg and the pupal or adult phases. Growing at a rapid rate - and because its exo-skeleton is rigid and cannot expand - the larva must periodically shed its skin through a process called ecdysis. 

 

Depending on the species, larvae take on diverse physical forms; some are caterpillar-like with fleshy false legs while others are C-shaped grubs; many are vermiform - or legless maggots to you and me. By dedicating the larval stage entirely to intense energy consumption and mass accumulation, the insect successfully secures the vital bodily resources required to transition into a reproductive adult.  

 

 

III.  

 

But of course, our anonymous critic is not an actual insect. When they write of multiplying like larvae, they are doing so figuratively - indulging in metaphor rather than undergoing metamorphosis. 

 

Based on numerous comments posted by X on TTA, I gather they have a working knowledge of modern European philosophy. When they speak of becoming a larval subject, they are likely referencing a concept originating in the work of Gilles Deleuze, who argued that underlying our stable, conscious selves are pluralised, pre-individual states of becoming [2]. 

 

Object-oriented ontologist Levi Bryant later developed this idea, naming his highly influential blog Larval Subjects. On his homepage, Bryant explicitly outlines this condition and the purpose of his blog:

 

"Larvae are creatures in a process of becoming or development that have not yet actualized themselves in a specific form. This space is a space for the incubation of philosophical larvae that are yet without determinate positions or commitments but which are in a process of unfolding." [3] 

 

For Bryant, in other words, larval subjectivity is about quiet potential, formlessness, and that which remains hidden beneath the surface. This is precisely where X's metaphor completely breaks down. For X does not want to quietly incubate indeterminate ideas in a subterranean space; they dream of a highly visible occupation of the blogosphere.

 

More importantly, true larvae change form as they grow: X, however, is entirely shaped by a rigid set of full-blown obsessions, fixed ideas, and an unyielding ego. No matter how much X multiplies across the scattered commentaries, they never develop or evolve.

 

In this sense, X weaponises the concept of larval subjectivity while completely misunderstanding its nature. In fact, rather than being a larval subject, they are much closer to a computer virus - and X rather amusingly reminds me of Agent Smith in The Matrix Reloaded (2003). 

 

For when Agent Smith multiplies, he does not incubate new potential or transition into a higher state of being; he simply clones his own identical self over and over again in order to overwrite the system. Similarly, X's digital swarming isn't organic metamorphosis; it is the sterile, mechanical replication of the exact same code.  

 

 

IV. 

 

But perhaps I'm being unfair and a little unkind. 

 

After all, X is generous enough to confess that their "past affiliation with TTA under a specific poetic pseudonym" has left them highly appreciative of "the many excellent offerings" and opportunities that have "helped sharpen and nourish" their own "poetic thinking" [4]. 

 

And I am grateful to X for their contributions to the blog and for showing how philosophical ideas can often most successfully unfold within a poetic, or literary, or cinematic context. When it comes to synthesising poststructuralist theory with dark romanticism and works of body horror, nobody does it better than them. 

 

One suspects that when X writes about multiplying like larvae, they're actually not thinking of Deleuze or Bryant, but Baudelaire [5] and filmmaker David Cronenberg [6] - two artists fascinated by corruption and the breakdown of boundaries between the self and the swarm.

 

What I'm saying, then, is that we might frame X's use of the idea of larval subjectivity less as a misunderstanding of a philosophical concept and more as a gothic hijacking of the term. Perhaps they may even care to confirm this and - who knows - decide to write a post on the topic setting out their own ideas, rather than just endlessly criticising me for my many failures as a writer and thinker.   

 

Or perhaps having dramatically declared their intent to multiply like anonymous larvae, X prefers to remain in the comment section; seeing the latter not as a space for debate, but as a breeding ground and a site of metamorphosis.   

  

 

Notes

 

[1] See the comment dated 28 July 2026 following a post titled 'No More Heroes 5: Stephen Alexander - The Performative Punk Poser', by Jeff Francis (22 July 2026). 

 

[2] See Gilles Deleuze, Difference and Repetition, trans. Paul Patton (Columbia University Press, 1994). This work was originally published in French as Différence et répétition (Presses Universitaires de France, 1968). 

 

[3] Levi Bryant, Larval Subjects. I would encourage torpedophiles to visit this blog and engage with his work across a number of subjects - including political theory, ecology, and aesthetics - by a range of thinkers including Deleuze, Badiou, Žižek, and Lacan. Bryant is Discipline Lead for the Department of Philosophy at Collin College and Chair of the Critical Philosophy program at the New Centre for Research and Practice. I have referenced his book The Democracy of Objects (Open Humanities Press, 2011) on more than one occasion on TTA. 

 

[4] I'm quoting once more from the anonymous comment dated 28 July - see note [1] above. 

 

[5] Larval forms such as maggots and worms often appear in décadent and darkly romantic poetry; usually in order to juxtapose beauty with physical decay and decomposition, or signify existential horror. Readers might recall, for example, Baudelaire's poem 'Une Charogne', in which the narrator stumbles upon a rotting animal from which "larvae poured in legions far and wide". Click on the link provided, or go find your copy of Les Fleurs du mal on the bookshelf.   

 

[6] I'm thinking here of David Cronenberg's sci-fi horror film The Fly (1986) which X refers to when they write that their intention is to provide a swarm of comments written by "licentiously assembled personae" that compliment TTA conceived as a "monstrous, Brundlefly-esque novel". See the comment dated 28 July linked to in note [1] above.