On the side of the funny-looking angels

There’s a set of animals which, on my journeys home, have a particular quality that I’d describe—if pushed—as eldritch. Horses, deer, barn owls. All of these animals stir some atavistic sense of wonder and fear inside me, and when they fleetingly flash past me I can see how my ancestors thought of them as ghosts, spirits or other elements of the supernatural. Other animals decidedly don’t fall into this category: rabbits, most birds, hilarious ponies.

It’s more or less accepted that Lutz Heck tried to breed Aryan horses for the Third Reich, and that there were at least putative breeding programmes for many other species. However, I’ve yet to find any evidence online for K’s assertion that the Nazis had a more general division of animals into Aryan and non-Aryan. It would be entirely consistent with the rest of their symbology, though: the eagle, the brown bear, corvus corax and, er, Rammstein.

These eldritch animals share a slightly different quality from sinister Nazi bombast, though. They’re Lovecraftian, as if they’re only half-present in our world, and half in another, and they can and do shift their weight from side to side. That would explain why they can melt into early-evening mists as if by an effort of will: deer are especially good at this. The arrangement and girth of their limbs and bodies are such that they turn spindly and Daliesque, as if at the tensing of secret magical muscles, tightening sinews against their very physical definition until they begin to disappear.

If we fail to stop climate change, and it all really kicks off, then I expect certain creatures—the eldritch, or the Aryan, or maybe just the svelte—to clench and clench those muscles of disappearance, wrapping themselves up like a snake eating its own tail, until they’ve gone entirely, cleared out, fucked off, leaving us contemptuously to the consequences of our own stupidity. All we’ll have for company will be the prey, the panicked, the ungainly and the fat. At least they’ll be good for a hug and a pat.

This entry was posted in belief, climate, emotions, environment, experience, far_right, fear, geography, inspiration, location, nature, person, politics, psychogeography, society, understanding. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to On the side of the funny-looking angels

  1. Hatmandu says:

    Dare I say: “Horse!” ?

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