GR translation: very selectively blighted rainfall

[rich]

Note how the later part of this passage is in a way is almost the
reverse in that oft quoted passage in M&D. the GR quote trails from
certainty in cities streets to the fear front at the entrance to the
unkown dark forest; the M&D quote the rape of the sacred myths of the
unknown dark magical forests to certainties, ruled by governments,
builders of simplicities, i.e cities.

rich

'Does Britannia, when she sleeps, dream? Is America her dream?-- in
which all that cannot pass in the metropolitan Wakefulness is allow'd
Expression away in the restless Slumber of these Provinces, and on
West-ward, wherever 'tis not yet mapp'd, nor written down, nor ever,
by the majority of Mankind, seen,-- serving as a very Rubbish-Tip for
subjunctive Hopes, for all that may yet be true,-- Earthly Paradise,
Fountain of Youth, Realms of Prester John, Christ's Kingdom, ever
behind the sunset, safe til the next Territory to the West be seen and
recorded, measur'd and tied in, back into the Net-Work of Points
already known, that slowly triangulates its Way into the Continent,
changing all from subjunctive to declarative, reducing Possibilities
to Simplicities that serve the ends of Governments,-- winning away
from the realm of the Sacred, its Borderlands one by one, and assuming
them unto the bare mortal World that is our home, and our Despair.'


>
> On 19 November 2012 15:55, Mike Jing <gravitys.rainbow.cn at gmail.com> wrote:
>>
>> P241.34-242.13  Unity gain around the loop, unity gain, zero change, and
>> hush, that way, forever, these were the secret rhymes of the childhood of
>> the Discipline of Control—secret and terrible, as the scarlet histories say.
>> Diverging oscillations of any kind were nearly the Worst Threat. You could
>> not pump the swings of these playgrounds higher than a certain angle from
>> the vertical. Fights broke up quickly, with a smoothness that had not been
>> long in coming. Rainy days never had much lightning or thunder to them, only
>> a haughty glass grayness collecting in the lower parts, a monochrome
>> overlook of valleys crammed with mossy deadfalls jabbing roots at heaven not
>> entirely in malign playfulness (as some white surprise for the elitists up
>> there paying no mind, no . . .), valleys thick with autumn, and in the rain
>> a withering, spin-sterish brown behind the gold of it. . . very selectively
>> blighted rainfall teasing you across the lots and into the back streets,
>> which grow ever more mysterious and badly paved and more deeply platted, lot
>> giving way to crooked lot seven times and often more, around angles of
>> hedge, across freaks of the optical daytime until we have passed, fevered,
>> silent, out of the region of streets itself and into the countryside, into
>> the quilted dark fields and the wood, the beginning of the true forest,
>> where a bit of the ordeal ahead starts to show, and our hearts to feel
>> afraid . . .
>>
>> What does "blighted" mean here?
>>
>