Black noise

    The first rays of an early clear morning rise broke the horizon, coating the cliff face in a warm basking glow. They hardly realized this body of life and though not shown, they dispised it. They approached their final destination, a little cove dug shallow into the cliff face. A place of sacrafice. The plains below lay barren. The drought had slowly drained the juices of nearly all the animate creatures on the plains leaving only a small frail people to fend off the decay of heat. The village elder, a shaman, had one desperate act left within. Though it was risky and likely deadly, life had to regain a foot hold on the plains even if it meant the death of the tribe. A headdress was worn as well as the sacred garbs of the elders.The feathers which flocked from the headdress were from the beautiful dutch parrot, the ripe red and brisk blue hues, perserved in oils to maintain its saturation. The feathers too were painted in fine inks of gold with the symbols of creation, of Quetzalcoatl and the history of the tribe. A jaguar hide was used as the catalyst of the feathers ensuring a secure skull cap. The hide was positioned so that the majestic head of the cat lay on the fore head and the lower jaw was slit down the middle allowing the two halves to dangle along the cheeks. Bare chested. This allowed the gods to see that nothing was hidden, that this was a genuine act of survival. An array of many fine scaled iguana skins, deep blacks, brilliant greens, streaks of Campeche orange and the blood reds of the Defensor, made up the groin cloths intricate designs which ebroidered its surface. The legs were bare as well as were the feet. In the left hand of the shaman was a staff. The staff was an old piece of drift wood, dyed white and carved carefully with the calender of their tribe. Coincidentily or by faith, the top of the staff parted into an intricate maze of roots to encompass a large orb of golden amber. The amber was carved as well with the symbols of creation and the myths of life. These were in turn painted in an auburn pigment. The orb was a piece of ancient mastery over the fluid qualities of amber for at the center of the orb lay a skull of a jaguar. The process for deriving such works of art were lost to the tribe and to the shaman too. At either side of the shaman were the remaining medicine practitioners of the tribe. Each had from birth practiced the song of the gods, hoping that they would not be the ones to play its enriching imaginitive tune.
Lead on by the shaman, the musicians knew what had to be done and no hestitation will come to bear. Along the edge face of the cove stood three drums. All three covered with dust, dirt and dried remains of once fruitful vegatation. They were normal looking, a clean stretched hide across the top fastened to the sides by wooden screws. There was one thing off about them though. Right after the screws the drums went from being wooden to being stone, but the stone was if it was part of the cliff. The ground came up and merged with the drum. Unseen to the eye lay an intricately cut tunnels underneath each drum, going deep into the cliff and finally protruding roughly halfway down the face. The sun was just leaving the horizon, expressing in a new wave of energy for the coming day. The three musicians could no longer wait. Each second that past with the sun rising, gaining domain over the plain, meant another second closer to the demise of the tribe. So they positioned themselves in front of the drums with their backs to the open brisk air of the cliffside, the shaman opposite at the center drum his staff in the air like a conductors baton. Without further delay the staff fell and the two drums let bellow blows which reverberated through the tunnels exerting thunderous bass across the plains. The constant swings of percision echoed till the sun stroked the note of noon at which time the shaman standing motionless the whole time swung with unparalled harmony the lasting beat to reverberate across the barren plain. The beat of the drums allowed whoever remaining, whatever remaining, to picture in their minds their greatest wants, such as reptiles, birds, insects, water, trees, mammals and fish. Their brains swam in the endless possiblities, of food which could be, of a life that could be. Those down at the camp set a fire to relish and rejoice in the flavours of the mind and at once fire consumed their minds and its capabilities. Pleasure and happiness hung on the camp like an egulfing airborn plague making it difficult to do anything but have a good time. Once that remaining single blow commenced from the shaman everything stopped, frozen in place, frozen in time, the only thing constant and active were the minds, the images conjured and enclosed in the minds of the tribe. Moisture that had stopped and listened to the music of the damned soon found themselves hurling back towards the ground, the tribe and the musicians. The rain of Quetzacoatl was the name given to the event. Where the moisture evaporating becomes too heavy and pours back down coating everything in a shimmering dew. Where the dew collected on rocks and the ground sprouts sprung and grew with the nurturing fertilization of the dew. Where it fell in crevices and cracks it built up to form streams and rivers. As it fell upon the tribes people their creations were unlocked from their confined prisons and given biological life. In cases of snakes, the persons head swelled and they slithered from the ears the nostrills and the mouth. Birds pecked the eyes out and cracked the skull enjoying their first fresh breath. Fish sliced the skin looking for the quickest way to their watery homes close by. Tree roots grew from ears, eyes and nose, and transversed through artery and vein, consuming every nutrience and fluid of the remaining shells of a once past civilization. So the barren plains that could once hardly maintain the life of a few tribesman, now teams with a variety of plant and animal life each in their own environment, each from a single origin. In the end the tribesman see that their reality was a gift of the unconscious, to which the black noise did commence.