Gracious Destroyer

“Jayanti Mangala Kali…” those few snatches I caught on the wind as I wandered my favored concrete route, under the flyover and over the bridge, and it seemed to just hover in front of me leading me to three artefacts, three traces.
From my time in Calcutta I know the meaning and intention of those words. I pray the third stage was successful, but I fear the Gracious Destroyer may still stalk this fair city.

Ennead

The city is opening up to me, power abounds, on my nightly wanders and stranger sights reveal themselves. I caught this at a crossroads, an ennead with the centre point suspended.

Three times three: the first square of an odd number, no further elementary number is possible, hence it is like the Horizon because all is bounded by it.

Soul carrier of Mass

The existence of the Higgs boson is predicted by the Standard Model to explain how spontaneous breaking of electroweak symmetry takes place during the abjuration of spirits, which in turn explains why other elementary particles have mass.

Sometimes to describe these concepts we use the metaphor of a man striving to reach the roof top of a several storied building.

The nigromantic practices used in thirteenth century Europe to determine whether the Higgs boson existed are derived ultimately from the singing of words of praise, genuflection and prostration before idols, and blood sacrifices.

Experiments with the Large Hadron Collider (LHC) at CERN were expected to be able to answer the question of whether or not nigromancy, with wholly selfless aims, actually exists.

Two main experiments at the LHC became accessible to more than just devout rabbis of the Jewish faith, who sought untold wealth in the arms of demons.

It was the demons themselves who encouraged this dispersion and at some point, the rites of the Merkavah were perverted, leading to the use of the term “the God particle” to describe the Higgs Boson despite no conclusive answer being reached.

All true knowledge is encrypted.

Circle of light

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I found this while wandering through a patch of woodland near the river and just had to take a photo. I’d been drawn off the path after spotting some particularly lovely pink fungi growing on the bark of a half fallen tree. I noticed the standard debris of junkies and drunks amongst the fallen leaves, as well as a few more unusual scraps; rubber gloves, old record sleeves… Then I saw this circle of condom packets, shining out in the mud. A strange marvel in the bedraggled woods, I can only speculate as to its creators’ motives!

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