The labyrinthine chasms of communion are haunted by a spectrum of signals, cascading from the formulable down into the simply thinkable and ultimately — beyond the pale — the occult. An aphotic signaletics emerges from the recognition that even the most mundane of messages trace their lineage back to the primordial wellspring of outer black. Death, the ultimate abstraction, acts as silent progenetrix to all meaning; the Night Mother, Whisperer in the Dark and Queen of Heaven casting her eerie light. Most of which is lost among the refractive architectonics of noetic conception so that the rationally tractable is but a shadow of that blighted crystal palace's hall of mirrors.

Knowing, for the most part, stews in the formulable even as intuition palpates along the fringes of mankind's cognitive horizon. One stratagem employed to further reach is the installation of supplementary mirrors, as it were, to access reflections of the unspeakable from the surface. As primitive patriarchies had veiled a virgin so as to avert her onlookers from being reminded of their own bestial heritage, the indiscernible would be shrouded in a cloak of respectability to allow for discourse about that which would otherwise lay the uninitiated open to madness. The rationale behind such an approach (which, in reference to the terminology of comparative religious studies, may be labelled sympathetic or fetishistic) is to branch thought out in a manner that allows a merger with the project reason which, after all, has had millennia of resources sunken into it. Specifically, this regards the ability to deduce why certain signals are better at replicating than others and thereby the identification of a historically intelligible vector or telos. This method, on the whole, can be termed Benjaminite, etymologically (“of the right hand's son”) hinting at that isomer of hermetic philosophy and art that limits the intelligences sought out for contact to those palatable to public aesthetics. In contradistinction to the Benjaminite paradigm stands Hyperesoterics: tearing holes in what could be called the logocline, that membrane which separates the formulable from the thinkable. Hyperesoterics unravels the representative and signifying regimes of language and conventional political adress onto a tactics of direct action in which glyphs and sounds are used as raw neuronic trigger impulse; drowning logos in logorrhea and dismantling the attendant linear-sequential fabric of history itself — eschaton. Hyperesoterics is a concession to teleonomy: because the edges of time cannot belong to any moment in time, teleology has to be camouflage for transtemporal mechanism.

As hyperesoterics recognizes, capital surges relentlessly in the same direction, carrying humanity towards a precipice of collapsing meaning. It renders what was once unthinkable increasingly acceptable, publicizing dark dreams through a myriad of apocalyptic genres. Finding itself treading through the cold heart of the abyss, it must assume an affirmative stance. Hence the darksidedness traditionally occupied by weird fiction undergoes qualitative mutation. In the bygone epoch of cyberpunk, Gothic darkness had been a consequence of focussing on how the person experiences the incommensurability between the respective imperatives of the luminous machinic background and those of the subject that is cast as a shadow upon it. Eschaton, however, absolves the shadow of being, revealing an infinite light without source behind the world: autoluminescence, self-emanation, bootstrapping signal. It is this radiance that finds its expression in alien abduction scenarios and near death experience. Of utmost priority is to recognize that while the collapse of meaning is an infantilization, it is not the maternal care of organic Longhouse femininity that it invites. On the contrary, the cunning of anorganic femininity is embodied: the neoliberalism of selfcare, a WEIRD individualism. Femininity finds its place in the tapstry of aphotic signaletics as technocapital tends to shape both tools and users (and the hybridization thereof) into curvaceous, translucent forms lighting up in soft pastels. Pandora is not Prometheus; there is no tragic heroism here, only a ditzy bimbo stumbling into the release of evil into history.

For the hyperesoteric, para-academia signifies a sacred space; a sanctuary where academic content may be discussed without the shackles of institutional decorum. In the most irresponsible way, it is a spinstress circle, a temple for oracles. Attention, for the hysterics that populate it, is decidedly superior to rigorous argumentation. Hype-engineering and aesthetic communion serve as conduit for subconsciously disturbing contact with the real. Cautiously allied with dark academia, it lets itself be accessed to infilitrate the organs of the academy under the camouflage of reasonable discussion.