Everything needed to be plated in gold and encrusted in diamonds before it could ever be materially justified
New Ballardian London is hunting down the eternal retrograde (harbringing Aquarius) planning to exploit it to amplify the spiritual traces of capitalism left in its haunted state-sanctioned city. Human beings hopelessly bond with luxury goods in the deep chthonic-reverb night. A post-capitalist procession or ceremony with multitudes of sacred items - plated in gold - over a backdrop of cut-up-technique mechanized hyperathletic sport. An ocean of either obsidian (purpose: scrying) or crude oil.
Gold is an innocent victim of deep predatory abuse and trafficking through capitalism. The names are never changed - gold is money. Its eerie Pan-American resonance in the 20th century is the nail in the coffin of its untimely fate (Time is money - gold withstands time?)))(( Money transfigured through time ultimately leads to a dead end that does not deserve temporal reconfiguration. The hollow motto of "Time is money" is chanted further into its own ironic techno-lucidated funeral mass until it verbally disintegrates. An alternative remains: "Time is money" is a representation of the universe's most fatal function, meaning the life you have left in Earth Time is paying the state, the elite, the Board. Granted that you are not rebelling by committing suicide (which in all realities has weight.)
Any Lemurian strategy to do with time (think Lemurian time sorcery) is by all means rebellion: Its one catch is that it is unlife. The hypostatic (exempli gratia Trinity through morally dead humanity) consequence of refusing to pay the state with your Earth Time is your flatline. Technocratic state ore-injected in the material heart of New Ballardian London refuses the Christ-Consciousness-bearing humanity left in its own city. The neotenous ambassador, a gold plated anthropomorphic clock; the spirit of a victim of catastrophic abuse is trapped inside.
"Golden cities, golden towns. Thanks for the ride"
- Laurie Anderson