The secret of the unicorn
I’ve been on the same canal walk for a few days in a row now, and I encounter the same barges on every day. The canal is a liminal zone—it’s the same as with cats; the cat is occultic because it walks in day and night with ease, hence why psychopaths kill them (to gain their powers). The canal is also a twilight zone, it’s water where it shouldn’t be—and, since de-industrialisation, it is both abandoned and yet in use, for leisure, at the same time.
It tends to cut to extremes, like all these liminal zones—so it’s respectable and perfectly restored barges called “Kingfisher”, or it’s neo-hippies, New Age travellers, in grubby boats with windows blacked out with grime (sometimes not even in canal boats, just rotten leisure craft with blue plastic sheeting for windows).
I’ve encountered the latter again and again in recent days. It’s the typical look: white rastas who are very filthy—who look like exiles from an early 90s rave who haven’t washed since then. There’s some pretence they’re selling things on the canal side, some pretence to an Instagram page, but it’s just a few ratty plants and washed out jam jars (the real money comes from the welfare check).
The general sensation is clutter and lassitude; it’s fetid, with the flies that buzz around all the time—still like the canal water, it’s a miasma (enveloped in cannabis smoke in the cabin, everything humid and rotten—stained through with smoke from the wood-burner). You couldn’t say they’re threatening, exactly—but they just sort of lounge there, in an old fold-out chair, and look a bit surly.
I happened to glance at the lead boat. It had a message scrawled on it: “Every day is Saturday”—i.e. “every day is Saturn’s day [as Saturday is truly called] and, therefore, every day is a day of rest”. A Satanic inversion, for Saturn is the god of the Golden Age—but it can’t be the Golden Age every day (unless you’re on welfare, that is). Well, that’s their loss—because if every day is a holiday, no day is a holiday (a holy day, a day to give thanks to the gods).
The boat’s name? “Unicorn”. Now, as discussed before, per Guénon, the unicorn is the ancient symbol of Satan (forget your inverted pentagrams). Unless it’s balanced out in an alchemical operation, as with Britain’s “lion and unicorn” seal, it represents Satan—so as a name for a wicked narrowboat it was quite appropriate. And, as noted before, the unicorn is associated with the LGBT movement—whose flag replaced every national flag at the Rockefeller Plaza UN display this week (because the LGBT movement is Satanic—beware the unicorn).