02 February 2009

The Alchymical Walkers



Walker's new crisp flavours show that alchemy is still alive and kicking in the chemlabs of Little Age, Mass... the cows turn left at the tannery, exhale slowly, build up a froth of steam from their hooves... the magickians in the Walker's lab are scuttling animal extracts, pulling bad teeth from imaginary animals, creating their own Jenny Hanivers, slipping on loose electrons...

Cornelius Cardew - Octet '71


These people potboil themselves into infinity, these potions coagulate metal, draw inspiration from Hell itself...



The new Builder's Breakfast flavour is tinged with brimstone and sulphur, kisses the arse of the Devil - these are crisps that would be burned at the stake... that should be.

No amount of food technology and wrangling can offer a better solution - the people who created this flavour are full of bad tidings, drenched in Lore, suffused with dark light, moonspill, sufferance, servitude...

The Old Ones coming in a conduit of slippery potato eelskins...

Builder's Breakfast crisps are the new Necromonicon ; stay away from backwards eating, stay away from eating at all... nothing good can possibly come from this hellish brew, this broken limb, this synaesthetic savagery (the shapes created by the taste of these things are the kind that exist only in the mind of quantum physicists, all the edges heading towards the places you can't point to).

Cornelius Cardew - The Turtledove


You might think I'm overstating but, honestly, this is the kind of stuff that breakdowns are made of, somewhere in the bowels of Paris a magickal working has left a lone adept naked and rocking, his mind blown; the packaging plant must look like the final scenes of the Exorcist...

Cornelius Cardew - Smash The Social Contract
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