“Antarctica is not and has never been the home base to Predators or any other Alien Master Races. It is not Atlantis and there are no secrets buried in the ice…”
- Official Press Release from Antarctic Preservation Commission, LLC
The ice could not harm us.
The claimed it was a preservation issue. The hut was a historic site and they didn’t want to damage it or the booze buried in the ice. They claimed they were testing the scotch and the brandy to see if it was still good, if it was a marketable brand. Brand management is all the rage. The public, as much as the paid any attention, lapped it up. Smokey aftertaste. Plenty of peat. They joked: could this qualify as aged 100 years. Ha. No. But brand management and a lost recipe didn’t explain the circus. Didn’t explain the gathering of great and diverse minds, occult resonance. Didn’t explain the complete lack of media inquiry.
“Mankind knows no limits or bounds. We shall prevail over the cold, over Gaia’s frozen cunt.”
- Overheard at APC press conference.
The ritual was simple
In 1908, Ernest Shackleton set off on an expedition in a ship Christened "Rebellion." The goal, never fully disclosed to the public, was to destroy evidence of a previous (clandestine and failed) expedition. To unlearn everything they had learned on the ice, and to keep any and all others from returning, for the risk was too great. Aleister Crowley had been slated to join him. Everyone who knew what he was doing knew what he was going was wrong. It was said that the sailors heard ghosts howling in the frozen desert.
"Day 23: Digging continues apace and we seem to have found something today. If it is what we have been looking for, then Reginald truly deserves the £100 reward."
- last entry from the ship's log of Thomas Magog, Captain of the HMS Moria
A candle. Blood. Focus. And Shackleton's demonic Scotch.
I sip icy gin in the late afternoon. The news has come to me from several sources, is there any truth they ask, they worry so. Yes. It has been found. But they don’t know what it is.
“And the pit shall thawed [and the] beast[s] shall pour forth […] like devouring insects, like serpents […] and they will know no limits or [b]ounds and the [whole of] creation shall be […] razed.”
- The Apocalypse of Judas 12:22, fragment
This wasn’t about booze.
The permafrost was not an ideal location to perform a summoning, but one makes do. The bottles wouldn't unearth themselves. And the 12 nations would never resolve would retain ownership of the elixirs. This wasn't about a recipe, this was about power.
“When hell freezes over.”
- Jessica McDougal, response to when she would like to go on a date with me, c. 1992
You could almost see the gates straining to open as the seals fell away.