@HooklandGuide

Phoenix Guide to Strange England: #Hookland. Run by @cultauthor #Hauntology Re-wilding #Folklore #FolkHorror #Psychogeography Re-enchantment Is Resistance

 Hookland
paypal.me/Hookland
Joined August 2014
  • Tweets104K
  • Following3.4K
  • Followers35.4K
20.2KMedia
Today's answer to the question: 'What is Hookland?'
Hookland is the recovered memory that you cannot dismiss. Hookland is the recovered memory you secretly hope is true. Hookland is that place you visited once, but cannot find on any map. Hookland is where all the weirdness you've edited out of your life comes flooding back. Hookland is ghost soil.

ALT Hookland is the recovered memory that you cannot dismiss. Hookland is the recovered memory you secretly hope is true. Hookland is that place you visited once, but cannot find on any map. Hookland is where all the weirdness you've edited out of your life comes flooding back. Hookland is ghost soil.

29
256
15
895
138,300
Goodnight from Maisy Bloom, the light from her Derek Fowler nightlight not quite bright enough after Nan’s bedtime stories of Marrow-suckers. Goodnight from Jay Rickman, stealing himself to swallow a spoon of cider vinegar to keep the Night Hag at bay. Goodnight from Hookland.
2
12
1
62
711
I am a witch of stick and stone; herb-bag, hedge and bone I am a witch of tide and wave; sand, storm and salt-grave I am a witch of bog and moor; fear me knocking the door – Trad. Hookland witch rhyme, still often heard in the county's playgrounds
1
13
149
1,004
Goodnight from The Cape of Green pub, where there’s muttering about how early the snow will come and whether the Cloven Maiden’s prints will be seen in it. Goodnight from The Fisherman’s Hall at Wegweck Cove, where the dancing is becoming a summoning. Goodnight from Hookland.
3
12
143
1,072
Those of us whose have lives revolving around the ongoing Long Neolithic will tell you that certain stones sing to us. If you push us further, we may also admit that certain stones growl. They guard their territories, prowl our imaginations. – Dr. K. Brophy #StandingStoneSunday
2
14
138
1,155
Goodnight from Vicki Betts, desperate to test the efficacy of her new love charm in The Ice House nightclub. Goodnight from Broxton’s Orchard, where a lantern party is in full swing and each ghost story told darkens with the amount of roast cider drunk. Goodnight from Hookland.
3
10
1
146
1,142
Goodnight from Spendlove Yard, where the spirit of Emma Wheatley is trying to loudly tut at the nonsense spewed about by the host of the Original Weychester Ghost Walk. Goodnight from Ruth Lee, reading the spill of neon in puddles as a scrying of tomorrow. Goodnight from Hookland
1
11
118
1,374
Goodnight from the Wrabwick Green Parish Council meeting, where’s there’s much debate about positioning of litter bins and renewing the protective wards. Goodnight from Doug Barden, ghost-heavy as he waits on the Old King’s Ferry to cross the River Hel. Goodnight from Hookland.
2
17
148
1,211
Goodnight from the harbour master at Maryworth, hoping there will be a reduction in chatter about ‘lights moving under the sea’ this evening. Goodnight from Emily C. Banting, the tide of salt-hag heart dragging difficult omens up the shore of her dreams. Goodnight from Hookland.
3
18
156
1,127
Goodnight from Ashcourt, where the Guild of John the Baptist lead a fire-snake of torches from Church of St. John-atte-Bower down to the sea for the festival of Safe Return. Goodnight from Penny Ash, hoping the House Hob has put her supper on the boil. Goodnight from Hookland.
4
16
155
1,241
Goodnight from Ann Dellaway, walking the Restal Waste to find a good spot to sink the Blood Sprite she’s trapped in a sulphur jar. Goodnight from Liv Draper, dreaming of the songs she will sing to the cherry-lipped girl who floats the paths of Nook Woods. Goodnight from Hookland.
3
19
161
1,357
The Hum was a singing of the wires. The Hum was a telling of the land's electric ley in drone and buzz. The Hum was our conversation with wonder. How could we not walk below it? How could we not be pilgrims of the pylons? – Trippy Pete, ex=Pylon Person #VOH
17
134
1,171
Goodnight from The Witch Shirt pub at Cloverhill, where the charity bucket is going round to help those folk caught up in last week rain of stones. Goodnight from Ellis Gar, asking the lines on his face to remember this as the moment he saw a Thornshriek. Goodnight from Hookland.
4
18
1
155
1,767
The Long Neolithic lives as call to mystery. Whether we respond to those calls as archaeologists, ley hunters or stone pilgrims – we respond with stories. The Long Neolithic tithes in narrative. With typology or folklore, we all pay our dues. – Dr. K. Brophy #StandingStoneSunday
2
18
1
105
1,137
Goodnight from The Lamb Hotel, where David Steed haunts the bar in hope of meeting the brass-eyed man. Goodnight from Ronnie Hart, desperately scrabbling in the glove box of his Vauxhall Chevette for anything to help him escape a place that’s not any map. Goodnight from Hookland.
1
15
122
1,161
Goodnight from Red House Transport Cafe, where Sadie Stowen is finding out the going rate for her soul. Goodnight from the boot boys under Brighthaven Pier, suddenly realising that they aren’t tooled up enough for a ruck with what’s emerging from the sea. Goodnight from Hookland.
4
13
135
1,432
Goodnight from the spectre of Ron Shadford, confusing Coreham General Hospital’s incinerator for one of Hell’s furnaces. Goodnight from the 23:36 Ashcourt to London train, stopped by discovery of bits of something not entirely human on the track. Goodnight from Hookland.
2
10
122
1,199
Goodnight from Tucker Stokes, alarmed by the doubling of footsteps in an empty alley he visually walks alone. Goodnight from ‘Witch Kettle’ Sam, urging the hissing flames of his campfire to tell him the secret name of the Punkle plaguing Last Tree Farm. Goodnight from Hookland.
4
17
160
1,338
I am a witch for all those near broken. A witch for those scraped by trying to climb high walls, cut by having to walk on glass scattered by hollow-hearted bastards. I am a witch for those needing transformation, bound to pain. For witches understand the bruised. - #EmilyCBanting
1
27
2
169
1,705
Goodnight from Brimford Power Station, its cooling towers busy releasing water vapour clouds which twist into the phantoms of a thousand stampeding mares. Goodnight from Charlie Hook, rubbing the scar gifted by Harrowhound bite and honouring its story. Goodnight from Hookland.
2
14
156
1,199
The occult is a deep river. It flows below our obvious culture, sometimes surfacing to delight people who like a little understanding or think they can sell it to others. The truth is it flows regardless of those looking at it from the surface. It's an unstoppable current.
25
152
1,557
Load more