Noise and Sonic Warfare

Déjà Entendu, from Sonic Warfare: Sound Effect and The Ecology of Fear

Déjà Entendu is the sensation of thinking that you have heard something before. It is an illusion of having already heard something which in actual fact it is being heard for the first time. My final piece, hinged on the idea that familiarity breeds a sense of comfort or acceptance in the context of willingness to engage, in artworks or other media specifically, and something that has the capacity to overcome video/sound’s “relationship to the exhibition of pictures…which induces us to assume that can be grasped just by ‘glancing at it”. (Neumeier)

In this passage Steve Goodman examines the ways in which the phenomenon of Déjà Entendu comes about but more interestingly mentions a number of notable instances in which its effect seems to occur, or even when an attempt to replicate the effect occurs. “Film sampling in electronic music illustrates one aspect of this mnemonic problematic. A sense of familiarity, or déjà vu, is often experienced when you watch a film that contains a segment of sound – it could be a phrase or even merely a tint of ambience – that you experienced first in its sampled form in electronic music,” and “The more commonplace version of this involves accidentally stumbling across an original track when you are much more acquainted with its sampled riffs or vocal phrases.”  [note, this isn’t actually déjà entendu, as the sensation of having heard the segment isn’t an illusion].

“An audio virology clearly opens up more questions that it can answer. How should it conceive of the relation between the body, memory, and perception? How does a (perhaps illusory) sense of sonic familiarity render a body susceptible to the sonic infection?”

The infection he speaks of is the “abduction by the senses”, a change in the state of experience rooted in memory, the actual sensorial equivalent of what we speak of when we refer to nostalgia. (Though nostalgia refers to the reference, or often carbon copy, of visuals and sound from the past, the realty of this phenomenon is rooted in the human reaction to it.) “A vague sense of familiarity…switches on your pattern recognition systemms, ‘presses record’ and intensifies your vulnerability to infection.”






“Experimental Music”

Though the use of Pharmakon in the previous video is only really in passing here, other than the suitability of her live performance in illustrating certain points, it has occurred to me this is an area I’ve not researched as much as other things, other than briefly into the birth of industrial.

As the musical aspect of the work, and specifically the opening with sound created by myself, which I’m beginning working on now, is so central to the piece, I’ve looked into some texts that help provide further insight and context (to be added to):

Pink noises: women on electronic music and sound
A brief history of new music
Sonic Warfare: Sound Effect and The Ecology of Fear
And additionally, continue reading materials I stated
Assimilate: A Critical History of Industrial Music
Wreckers of Civilisation

Final Project: Video Vignettes

I’ve begun to properly plan out the content of the video I’m going to present as part of my final installation. Having been stuck for some time on how to adequately create a narrative framework and hang the practical logistical details of having a number of different artists and productions on this, I’ve began working backwards; Using reference images I worked out a number of formats, scenarios, media, etc. I wanted to use and identified 11 different sequences that I was interested in pursuing. Assigning a different performer/actor/vocalist/etc. to each of these formats, I’m going to allow what, combined, will be 11 separate vignettes, to develop organically and apply a loose narrative thread to these as the process builds.

The 11 vignettes I’ve identified as wanting to pursue play with both narrative, documentary, a mix of both, and some totally removed abstract experimental video methods, and I’ve organised as below with a rough narrative structure, overall aesthetic and technical approach for each:

Vignette 1 – IWBYD

Possibly opening with some establishing footage of close-ups of brutalist architecture and an oblique reference to a dystopian-style landscape (without actually using and wide location shots) to give a sense of space, this vignette will otherwise entirely take place in a small, dark, garage-like space. It will also be entirely shot from two static angles – a front angle that’s very clearly a laptop camera in photobooth, and a side angle of a mini DV camera on a tripod (possibly in shot of the first frame), and possibly using the camera’s night vision setting for this part.

The scene will involve me, in the shadowy setting, singing (possibly into a microphone to make use of the actual vocal) a screaming cover of The Stooges’ I Wanna Be Your Dog over a pulsating, industrial backing track I’ll have pre-produced using a simple repetition of the track’s three main chords. As the track builds so will the intensity of both the music, and the vocal aggression and action. The room will be lit only by the light of the laptop, which may, as the song builds to an appropriate moment, switch to a YouTube strobe video.

Vignette 2 – VO

Opening with a shot entering an, again, brutalist-in-style building, but this time more residential-seeming, this vignette will take place in a minimal but reasonably conventional-looking domestic setting. Voiceover will begin to tell a story as a sweeping single shot enters the space, which is then intercut with static shots of details around the room – idiosyncratic but laden with symbolism – until we see the back of a male figure’s head lying in bed. He gets up and goes about a conventional morning routine as the Voiceover ends and a cover song begins to play as background music to the scene.

Vignette 3 – CAR

Opening with maybe two alternate shots giving context – probably a shot through a car wing mirror and another through the back of the same car as it drives through a rural landscape – this entire vignette will take place in a single shot looking straight on at a female character as she drives a car (using a camera strapped to the bonnet of a car).

The vignette will see the character drive and sing along to the radio – a well-known song but an odd version that leaves the performance resting somewhere between a sing-a-long and an actual track – which is then interrupted by a phone ringing. The character at this point pulls to the side of what we’ve so far ascertained as a winding country road through the out-of-focus background and reflections on the windshield, turns off the radio, answers the phone to what ends up being a heated discussion. This device will allow for the next part of the story to be communicated.

Vignette 4 – GIG

Beginning with both camera and phone footage of an actual gig – the vocalist’s real show in which his cover song for this project is planted at the end of the show – the character, with the sound of a band behind, violently performs, writhing on the floor, and reaching a maniacal state as the song climaxes. As the song ends a single tracking shot will follow the character off a stage and into a back room where a scripted, heated and wordy exchange will unfold – again, here allowing the next part of the story to be conveyed.

Vignette 5 – SEX

The climax of the story, a euphoric high before an inevitable crash, will culminate here in a provocative, sensual exchange – possibly a group. Shot in close up high definition, the intention here will be to present a documentation of a real sexual exchange, but captured and presented in a cinematic spectacle – blurring the line between reality and fiction. The graphic sexual nature of the footage will be unmistakably real, but its presentation make it seem less real, less intimate and more part of the narrative.

Vignette 6 – SYMBOLS

The biggest production out of all 11 vignettes, this will involve opening with a number of wide shots of monumental industrial and brutalist landscapes – for example, the Thames Barrier and Southmere Estate, Thamesmead – to give a wider

Vignette 7 – SET

Vignette 8 – URL

Working between London and Hamburg, where vocalist and producer DVDV who will star in this vignette is based, will inform the approach to this. Either the music she creates is used without her being physically present in the video, or the limited communication – and methods of that communication – could lead the presentation, creating visuals from a mix of screen recorded Skype calls, shared images, etc.


Vignette 9 – AIR

A paired back visual diary-type approach that presents nothing more than a series of shots of natural forms for Music, and possibly Voiceover, to back. This could include some more monumental landscapes that touch on the earlier openings, but this would essentially be devoid of narrative and more contemplative – a moment of pause in what may otherwise end up being quite a turbulent rollacoaster of chaotic peaks and intense dramatic calms.

Vignette 10 – CGI

For this I wanted to play with the blurred line between narrative and fiction and Ideas around the familiar that dominate a lot of my thinking for this and other projects, and extend it to something more literal and physical. I hope to create abstract visuals that present a series of ambiguous forms, textures that could easily be computer generated or live footage: the surface of water, black latex, etc.shot at extremely close range, and computer generated forms that mimic this. I also hope to inject here references to symbolic images from other parts of the project, perhaps by the emergence of a symbolic form from water, which, lamp lit, shot at an extremely allowed down rate and close up, might easily be mistaken for computer generated, or visa Versa.

Vignette 11 – CHAT

Here, in perhaps the most different and perhaps seemingly out of place, I wanted to present a static chat show type set up. A number of fixed camera angles in a set-designed studio set up will follow an over the top – but fairly empty in terms of actual dialogue – exchange between a central figure and an interviewer, possibly with the inclusion of canned laughter.

Vignette X

Though I’m still not sure whether I’ll go ahead with this, this is for a potential 12th vignette that takes place only in live performance.

Research: Video Art (texts)

Having considered a number of possible interests for my research paper, and allowed interest alone to take the lead in reading, I’ve decided to focus on video art and certain aspects of it that will relate to my final project, specifically ideas about reception and presentation, and the effect this has on works.

SIDE: When looking for artists to compare and contrast the work of, as in a number of examples seen when first discussing the paper,  it would be interesting to consider artists whose work might entirely rely on the internet, but whose work primarily or even entirely shown in gallery – maybe removing the outcome from the context in which it was created?

Video Art by Sylvia Martin (Taschen)

“No Beginning / No End / No Directon / No Duration – Video as Mind” – Bill Viola

Futurist founder Marinetti recognised radio as an organ that could bridge great distances… [and the] combination of theatre and television screens as a practical model for futurism.

A 1991 text by communications scientist Vilém Flusser defines video as “dialogical memory”.

“Video is an explicitly time-based artistic medium, the job of the technical apparatus is to record temporal sequences and produce temporal structures”. p17

We Are Here: Art After the Internet

“I don’t see what I’m doing as new,  see the materials as new, and the technologies, virtual communities and subcultures that are emerging a mine of material for artistic practice.” Jon Rafman

The Curators New Medium poses the idea that the connectivity of the internet and social media creates a comparable path of intellectual discovery that a museum curator might, and even so far as implying the algorithms of Amazon, etc. might be able to do so in an equally useful and considered way as a curator.

Makes an important point about the implied difference in accessibility between the exclusive (meaning all that comes with that) institutional context of the gallery or museum and the supposedly democratic arena of the internet – and questions this. [Examples of, etc. using the online arena but acting in a way that mimics or extends the structure of the institution. Also, the platform s(edition) that sells digital works that exist ‘in real life’ – “How does such a platform, engage with curatorial practice? …does this platform suggest that the virtual is additional to the physical, or are the two entwined? And if so how does this shift the position of artists or curators who choose to work solely or predominantly online, now that ‘real space’ artists are seeking to invade their territory by commoditizing their creative practice?”

SIDE: to be able to appropriately discuss this topic the definitions and their parameters of various terms and phenomena need to be addressed; e.g. what constitutes a work of video art. What constitutes its presentation or showing (works shown in person or via 3rd party sites in press increasingly common)

After Social Media by Bran Troemel – “Art must be placed in a context that declares it to be art. Art exists for discourse and people who recognise it as such… Even artwork not found within institutions carries with it formal and conceptual codes created by institutions.

So by this thinking, the online exists not as a new alternative to the institutional context, but simply a new arena for the existing conversation to play out on.

After Art by David Joselit mentions Benjamin’s Aura

“For the image neoliberal, art is a universal product that should be free to travel… meaning it is created through a work’s ability to reach the widest audience and not through any particular location at which it is viewed.”

On dissemnation: ” The image anarchst reflects a generated indifference toward intellectual property, regarding it as a beucratically regulated construct. This indifference stems from filesharing and extends to de-authored, decontextualised Tumblr posts. Image Anarchism: the path that leads art to exist outside of the traditional context of art.”

Art afer social media is paradoxically the rejection and reflection of the market.”




Having spent some time collecting various material, both primary-source landscape and interview from the Island and research around the wreckage, this project has lead to some unexpected thoughts around framing the narrative of this. The story around the sunken SS Richard Montgomery was always secondary, my interest in it initially sparked by the reaction to it by the nearby community. Stories of tidal waves engulfing the island, driving islanders to live in fear. Having spent some time thinking about this, it occurred to me this narrative, the narrative of misinformation, is so tied up in the socio-political make-up of the community – a community noted for nationalist views and all that come with that – that my very purpose for the project has acquired new importance since I began. It is representative of the faults I see in the global socio-political climate: of a status quo devoid of reason or fact, instead built on collective belief, thought steered by tabloid media warping facts in interests of the economic gain.

I was asked to pitch the project to the Guardian recently and wrote this summary of its contents; perhaps a useful starting point for the narrative:

In August 1944, American Liberty ship the SS Richard Montgomery ran aground in the Thames Estuary just north of the northern Kent Isle of Sheppey, breaking it’s back with 1,400 tonnes of explosives aboard. If these explosives were detonated, it would allegedly be the largest non-nuclear explosion in recorded history. They remain at the wreck- age to this day and continue to be a hazard to the surrounding area.

It’s three masts visible above the water’s surface at all tides, the wreckage leaves a lasting visual impression of the inhabitants of the nearby island since its sinking; convinced the explosives will one day create a wave that will engulf the island, an impending sense of doom hangs over the islanders like a sword of Damocles, permeating the very fabric of life in the community. Despite the grave-sounding nature of the projected danger, in reality, the wreckage poses no actual threat.

This film is about misinformation.

The footage I’ve captured so far consists of set-up shots of the island landscape and the decaying architectural relics of WWII that litter it, documentary footage of a journey to the wreckage, and interview footage with local shop assistants. I also have an archive of iPhone footage, the format and content of which might give a better sense of the residential locations.

My first thoughts of filmic structure are as follows:

  1. Open with long, coastal landscape shots that set the scene, paired with a droning score made from incidental sounds and a bleak, colour-drained grade that give a sense of the bleakness of the environment.
  2. A sharp cut to faster-paced footage of inhabitants of the island; opening with interview footage of a single person, perhaps whose voice continues to soundtrack iPhone footage of the town giving a sense of the space, and ending with a long string of back-to-back interviews explaining the story of the wreckage in the chinese-whispers-style way I first came across it.
  3. Cut to a journey to the wreckage itself, beginning in the muddy marina and ending at the wreckage itself with scratchy, shaky hand-held mini DV footage that abruptly cuts short.

I’m unsure where, if at all, to include actual factual information about the wreckage. My thought is as a final note, a reveal that pulls the curtain on the myth. The nature of a gallery screening, though, would mean this set up allows for viewers to enter the story at any part, and therefore learn the reveal before the word-of-mouth account. Perhaps a fitting format reflective of the subject?

Cosey Fanni Tutti and more

In a recent interview with founding COUM Transmissions and Throbbing Gristle founding member Cosey Fanni Tutti retrospectively describes her art practice as “Just working with what presented itself, you know, going to jumble sales and finding these fantastic hoards, bringing [them] home and creating a small art work in the house, or costumes that would suggest something we could do, all ad hoc, based on chance, the way I still like it.” This touches on a couple of ideas that came up in the mid point review discussions yesterday.

The first, the idea of unknowing collection, of accumulating materials with no intention as a means of sparking action research by presenting a starting point that already has a process in place – that of collection. The other is the idea of acting on accident, or working with an input out of our control. One relevant example of this is the use of found footage – found in the traditional sense, whereby the results are entirely dependent on what is developed from a particular batch of film/tape/files, rather than selective sourcing from online. I have, in the past, had rolls of film developed that I’ve found in second hand cameras that have had fascinating and surprisingly relevant material on them – one in particular had two shots from a civil rights march that took place in the late 1960s (below, something that could be unearthed and used now?). Mini DV tapes bought second hand on eBay also occationally still have footage on. Something to actively search for? I had considered the possibility of using found footage to interweave into my final project’s documentary narrative, much like the narrative constructed from YouTube found footage in Leo Gabin’s A Crackup At The Race Riots.

On accumulation I actually have a fairly substantial and meaningful practice underway. Since the day I first went to a gig around age 13  I have been collecting tickets for everything that seemed significant in my life – every ticketed gig, theatre show, exhibition, aeroplane ride – knowing I would one day have a use for them. The initial idea was, once I had accumulated what felt like a lifetime’s worth of experiences, to record by scanning or photocopying and ceremoniously burn the originals. Though I certainly do not feel like I have a life’s worth of experiences to set ablaze, the process of documenting is an attractive one given the memories it will no doubt stir. The idea would simply be to arrange face down onto an A4 or A5 space and scan in no particular order, possibly binding together an a kind of first volume of experiences. As this would be fairly time consuming and I would want to give the appropriate attention to each ticket and associated experience, possibly noting down said experience in some way, this would have to be done over the course of numerous weeks/months/however long such a job takes.

Inspiration Session: Barbara Kruger

This week’s studio session involved selecting and sharing the work of an artist that inspires my own practice. In even approaching this process, a whole series of questions came to mind. My first instinct was to reach for the bookcase, which perhaps not surprisingly led me time and time again to select books by photographers – almost exclusively of the social documentary variety: Diane Arbus, Daido Moriyama, Larry Clark, Nan Goldin, Nobuyoshi Araki and Slava Mogutin, among many, many others.

Each time I selected a photographer or particular series, convinced of its importance to me, and therefore presumably my work, I realised it was pleasure and not inspiration I was drawing from it. Though interested in the seemingly no-holds-barred approach of the likes of Mogutin, Golin and Araki, or the eye of Diane Arbus that seems to pick out the most peculiar of subjects and simultaneously humanise and dehumanise them, I couldn’t define how their actual practice informs my own, though I obviously do take away much from each of them, if only in the sense that I see myself as a detached perspective, an outsider in the literal sense trying to make sense of, and in some cases manipulate, a world that I don’t fully fit into and that seems to not fit me.

Essentially, this is a rather long way of explaining my choice to share the work of Barbara Kruger, someone who seemed obvious to me, but perhaps that’s the point. Beginning her ‘creative career’ in advertising and magazine publishing – not a far cry from how I’ve found myself paying the bills – I’ve taken much inspiration from her approach, both literally and as a vague kind of sense of encouragement.

Utilising the language – both actual linguistic and visual – of the world in which she cut her professional teeth, and subverting that language, Kruger places her works into the context of the everyday, allowing its message to land feet first into the world of mere muggles and raise questions, make comment and point the finger. She is unapologetic not only of her love for so-called “low” art, the art of popular culture, but of her understanding of its power to influence – and her will to use it to do just that. She always had an agenda – be it political or social – and she approached it head on and in the most-direct way she could, speaking to the viewer instead of at him.

This direct approach extended beyond her visual works into a series of essays and articles written by the artist throughout the late ’80s and early ’90s, which provide a scathing of modern life, executed with a sharp conversational tone, and often with a sense of humour, touching on subjects from sex and gender to power and death, all of which could be transported almost word-for-word to describe contemporary life.


Takeaways II

Using the format of the CD as a covetable takeaway object, I’m going to experiment with printing onto glass / perspex / metal/ cement as a presentation method – to follow with interactive electronic component:


Marcel Duchamp, The Bride Stripped Bare by her Bachelors, Even, (The Large Glass), 1915-23


Angela Palmer, Renault F1 Engine (ink on glass)




Styles of Radical Will: Art, Film and Theatre

“Every interesting tendency now is a species of radicalism. The question each artist must ask is: What is my radicalism, the one dedicated by my gifts and temperament?” (Theatre and Film, 1966).

Upon reading a collection of essays by writer Susan Sontag I came across a number of interesting ideas and references related to a number of aspects of my project and the views I have around the wider themes that surround it: from accessibility and a general approach to the arts, to the consensus view on extreme topics (here, pornography) and on film and it’s relation to theatre, including references to both artistic forms as syntheses of a wider range of artistic media (re: Gesamtkunstwerk), and from this how these media also speak of the state of wider society’s relationship to the arts.

Firstly Sontag references a passage written by theorist and Furturist movement founder Marinetti between 1910 and 1914, where he proposes that film may be used as one element in the theatre experience: “He envisaged the theatre as a final synthesis of all the arts, and as such it had to draw on the newest art form, movies,” (Theatre and Film, 1966). In this Marinetti is presumably considering all of the media known to contruibute to film at the time: sound (i.e. music), narrative structure (the written word or script), mise-en-scene, and photography – in the conventional sense, i.e. cinematography, but also in the relationship between images (a kind of rapid-fire mise en page).

Approaching the discussion of the the connection between the two media she also references the later use – in fact the insistence of use – of film in theatre by Russian and Soviet director Vsevolod Meyerhold, where he “[described] his program as fulfilling Wagner’s once ‘wholly utopian’ proposals to ‘use all means available from the other arts’” (Theatre and Film, 1966), referring to the German composer’s theory of the Gesamtkunstwerk in theatre, and his assuming of the poisitin that this synthesis should involve new and therefore ever-evolving artforms, here the then-new medium of film.

In reference to Meyerhold’s practice, Sontag points out how “Wagner’s ideology of a total theatre played its role in confirming the philistinism of German culture,” (Theatre and Film, 1966), a position on the unwillingness of wider society to fully embrace the arts – whether out of inability or apathy. A year later, when discussing the concern of the increasing availability of pornography and the underlying idea that this supposed concern for the upkeep moral standards is really about the availability of a certain kind of knowledge, she proposes that:

“There’s a sense in which all knowledge is dangerous, the reason being that not everyone is in the same condition as knowers or potential knowers. Perhaps most people don’t need a ‘wider scale of experience.’ It may be that, without the subtle and extensive psychic preparation, any widening of experience and consciousness is destructive for most people,” (The Pornographic Imagination, 1967).

Here, Sontag is referring literally to a kind of psycological destruction that comes as the result of being shocked by disturbing images, or at least images that do disturb, if only for the fact that one is not prepared to see them. But she is also referring to the wider idea that certain kinds of information, as with certain kinds of images, cannot be appropriately appreciated or even witnessed without some sense of context, of understanding, and therefore of a kind of preparation for receiving them – whether actively or passively undertaken.

It may be fair, then, to apply such thinking to all art; with certain forms of extreme music – industrial, noise, techno, freeform jazz – is an appreciation of a piece of such music reliant on a greater understanding of the landscape of the field that surrounds it? I’d argue yes and no. If approaching any one of these without prior knowledge of their structure or style, why wouldn’t one recoil and declare “it’s too loud”, or repetitive, or lacking in beat or melody? The only possible answer would be that despite having no prior knowledge to the piece’s provenence, that it speaks to the listener in an innate or primal way.

However, this phenomenon is by no means common or consistent enough to be more than the exception to the rule. Sontag is perhaps right in both the idea that people may be neither prepared nor willing to receive this kind of information, these kinds of images or any extreme form of media that is inaccessible, uncomfortable, unfamiliar or even simply boring to them.

The obvious, if perhaps slightly overwhelming and maybe useless, question here is: why is this the case? Or, maybe more usefully, how has this become the case? A brief skim over the history of Western civilisation would suggest the answer is access and privilege; the rich are and have been privileged to information where the poor have not, and when and where the poor have gained access, compared to the difficulties of the daily grind, the pursuit of academic and artistic enlightenment understandably falls down the list of priorities.

But with the information revolution democratising that system, whereby said information is arguably accessible to all, has this changed anything? I’m reminded of a 2012 Vanity Fair article by Kurt Andersen, in which he argues the exact opposite: that as history has progressed, at least recent history, the development of the cultural landscape has slowed dramatically, especially in regards to the art of popular culture. Referencing the differences in music, fashion, literature, etc. each decade throughout the 20th Century, something so universally understood it shapes the way we reference history, the last two decades show the smallest change:

“[If we] try to spot the big, obvious, defining differences between 2012 and 1992, movies and literature and music have never changed less over a 20-year period. Lady Gaga has replaced Madonna, Adele has replaced Mariah Carey—both distinctions without a real difference—and Jay-Z and Wilco are still Jay-Z and Wilco. Except for certain details (no Google searches, no e-mail, no cell phones), ambitious fiction from 20 years ago (Doug Coupland’s Generation X, Neal Stephenson’s Snow Crash, Martin Amis’s Time’s Arrow) is in no way dated, and the sensibility and style of Joan Didion’s books from even 20 years before that seem plausibly circa-2012.”


A War on Beauty (Short Film Project)

I am going to attempt a condensed (1-minute) version of the documentary output of my final project. Using the vehicle of SORT, the zine I co-creative direct, and the existing structure, aesthetic, ideas and following that already exists around it, I will create a fictional cult narrative, presented in mockumentary form.

Presented as an extreme political group made up of young people from a range of backgrounds, the cult narrative will centre on a core belief in rejecting contemporary western ideals of beauty –seeing such ideals as contributing to a system interfering with society making real change and a structure used to maintain an oppressive status quo – and through it express shared ideas found in existential nihilism and similar philosophical theories and belief structures.

Structurally the organisation will have a horizontal or flat hierarchy, with all members viewed with equal importance but a core group of founding members acting as spokesmen, documenting and distributing literature and media about activities.

Visually, members will be seen to adopt clothing and grooming styles that might be deemed (by wider society) as ugly, distasteful, grotesque, provocative or conversely adopt extreme versions of beauty conventions as a means of questioning their purpose or highlighting their absurdity. These will be seen in waves with large numbers adopting the same styles, including: shaved heads, extremely long false nails, (with chains) proportionally extreme pairing (extremely high waists, exaggerated shoulders, etc.), seemingly nonsensical styling (e.g. socks over shoes), sexual, fetish and military attire, contact lenses, symbol tattoos, etc. There will be no differentiation of styling across genders; all styles are deemed gender neutral and appropriate for anyone who choses to adopt them.

Activities performed by the group (seen in the film) will including ceremonial shaving of the head, hedonistic sexual and drug-fuelled gatherings, flyering and ‘corner preaching’, and conversely burning of literature (represented here by SORT zine), and conversely proclamations of a wish for anarchy.

The cult will adopt, adapt and misapply symbols from a wealth of religious and political sources not limited to, but including, Paganism, Christian religion, Western esotericism, Nazi propaganda, and The Tarot.

[Board of references]