
Originally published in Sokal Nouveau #299
By Dr Dr Julian Vane-Smythe,
Department of Astrobiology, Brichester University, and corresponding member of the Association of Therolinguistics
In July 1977, instruments at the Valis Observatory, Gloucestershire, recorded a short-duration radiological anomaly of uncertain origin, provisionally classified as a transient celestial event. Although the signal was of limited temporal extent, contemporaneous records indicate irregularities in both optical and radioastronomical measurements that were not satisfactorily resolved at the time leading to an interpretation that the anomoly manifested as a fluctuating ‘pattern of radiance’ that appeared to organise itself in response to the act of looking.
In the years following the event, a series of ecological irregularities were observed within a localised area of Goatswood adjacent to the observatory. Now designated Site-9, these early alterations were subtle: deviations in arboreal growth, atypical distributions of fungal networks, and minor but repeatable inconsistencies in cartographic data. While initially treated as unrelated phenomena, their spatial concentration and proximity to Valis prompted the reconsideration of a possible common cause and only in retrospect did it become clear that something had taken root.
This paper proceeds from a single, destabilising premise: that the event of 1977 did not merely occur, but was in some sense received and that its reception, mediated through human observation and technological inscription, provided the conditions necessary for its persistence. Building upon the foundational astrobiological works of Dr Margaret Wetherall1 as well as the 1974 discovery of vegetative literature by the Association of Therolinguistics, this paper argues that the entity termed Mycelium Nigrum is best understood not as an organism in the conventional sense, but as a form of invasive bio-grammar: a self-propagating system that writes, replicates, and ultimately seeks new material upon which to continue its story.
Radiance as catalyst
The geographical area colloquially termed Goatswood remains an enduring challenge to the cartographic and ecological norms of the British Isles. Extending across circa 14 acres of dense, light-starved terrain, there is a hyperlocalised area which sits in uneasy proximity to the Valis Observatory. The trees within this area, since dubbed Site-9 based on grid patterns, are predominantly gnarled ash and oak and exhibit a structural refusal to adhere to the Fibonacci sequences characteristic of terrestrial growth. Instead, they now display what we term ‘aggressive geometry’ and thus cannot be divorced from the telemetry recorded there during the summer of 1977: a ‘celestial aberration’ masked in rumour and inuendo which researchers at the time described as a ‘pattern of anxious light’.2 However, dig a little deeper and the true locus of investigation becomes the subterranean network of Mycelium Nigrum.
Nearly a decade removed from 1977, it is now a working hypothesis that the Mycelium Nigrum did not originate as a terrestrial organism. Rather, it is the biological ‘precipitate’ of that observed radiance, with the signal finding a receptive medium in the moist, mineral-rich soil of the Severn Valley and utilising the existing fungal networks as a scaffolding for its own manifestation.
To analyse Site-9 is to acknowledge that we are dealing with a landscape that is now fundamentally textual. As established in the seminal reports issued by the Association of Therolinguistics, it’s clear that the boundary between ‘organism’ and ‘author’ is a humanist fiction.3 If, as the Association proved with the deciphering of Acacia Seeds, plants are capable of producing elegiac narratives, then Site-9 represents a monumental, albeit invasive, epic. To read the woods then is, essentially, to read the static residue left behind by an extra-planar broadcast that the Valis equipment was only partially able to capture.
The Mycelial Echo
To approach Site-9 without the foundations of astrobiology and the framework of therolinguistics is to remain blind to its primary function. The discipline’s paradigm shift in the early 1970s, whereby the rhythmic pulses of Antarctic lichen were successfully categorised as a form of lyric poetry, allows us to view the Mycelium Nigrum as an echo of a foreign grammar which is now attempting to translate itself into the local dialect of carbon and nitrogen.
During the 1981 Valis Perimeter Survey, it was noted that the fungal clusters found near the roots of the ‘Sentinel Trees’ were not random growths but concentrated nodules of syntax. These nodules did not merely communicate information; they reconfigured the biological substrate of the soil to match the requirements of the original 1977 signal. As the Association of Therolinguistics has frequently noted in their studies of avian and vegetative discourse, the act of communication is often indistinguishable from the act of creation. In the Brichester context, the woods are literally ‘composing’ a terrestrial version of the radiance, using the minerals of the earth as its ink. Within Site-9, the ‘word’ is a chemical secretion and the ‘sentence’ is the spatial orientation of hyphae.
Wetherall’s Paralinguistics
The difficulty in documenting this bio-grammar lies in its paralinguistic nature: communications that exist in the gaps of human perception, occurring at frequencies or within registers that the human sensorium is evolved to ignore. Here, we must defer to the seminal work of Dr Wetherall, whose presence at the Valis Observatory following the 1981 survey transformed our understanding of ‘spectral’ interaction. Wetherall’s astrobiological methodology of moving away from the detached observation of the scientist toward a state of thinking with the subject revealed that the flora of Site-9 communicates via a paralinguistic resonance that vibrates against the human temporal lobe.4
Following immersion trials, it became clear that this syntax is highly invasive. Based on observations recorded by those infected, this resonance is often perceived as a persistent, rhythmic ‘clicking’ or a ‘humming’ which seems to emanate from the very marrow of one’s bones. Wetherall argued that these are not auditory events in the traditional sense, but the shadow of the 1977 radiance: paralinguistic signals attempting to find a ‘hook’ in the human neural architecture in order to complete the transmission from nearly a decade ago. It does not wait to be understood and instead forces an understanding by re-coding the perceptual apparatus of the observer.
Somatic Syntax and the Attenuation Paradox
The most harrowing evidence of this invasive bio-grammar emerged during the ‘Long Winter’ expedition of 1984. Several researchers, most notably Drs Aris Thorne and Elena Vance, began to exhibit what was dubbed ‘Linguistic Psoriasis’ in the form of raised, darkened lesions on the skin that shifted in response to the wood’s core. Further analysis in quarantine revealed a terrifying correlation: the lesions mirrored the topological structures of the subterranean mycelial lattices which in turn mirrored the original pattern of radiance recorded in 1977. Mycelium Nigrum was no longer merely writing into the soil but had begun to treat human epidermis as a tabula rasa.
This erasure of the distinction between the observer and the observed proved to be the ultimate expression of the wood’s invasive grammar. In this state, the human body became a living footnote to a fungal manuscript with the researchers not classified as being diseased but more akin to being read and subsequently edited. Initially it was theorised that this condition would resolve upon the subjects’ removal from the influence of Site-9, however isolation trials revealed what we now term the ‘Attenuation Paradox’. When moved away from the ‘noise’ of the wood, the writing on the researchers’ skin did not fade and the skin did not heal; instead it appeared to ‘parchmentise’ as the epidermal layer thinned and hardened into a permanent, biological vellum. The following archive images document the varieties of the syntax’s progression:
By early 1986, the internalisation was total. The impacted researchers ceased to speak in human phonemes, their vocal cords now producing the rhythmic ‘clicks’ of Site-9’s own paralinguistic frequency. As Wetherall noted in her final report before the Valis Containment Order was enacted, the Wood’s paralinguistics suggest a ‘long-form’ consciousness: it is engaged in a narrative that spans geological epochs, and the intrusion of human observers provided it with a brief, high-energy medium through which to express a particularly complex set of semantic variables. Thorne and Vance were, quite literally, being used as a biological means of publishing the 1977 signal’s narrative.
In the case of Dr Thorne, 85% of his skin surface was covered in shifting bio-grammar that reconfigured itself every twelve hours. Any attempt to medically intervene resulted in a violent ‘auto-correct’ response which was only discovered when a biopsy was attempted and led to a rapid, localised bloom of Mycelium Nigrum that replaced the excised tissue with a dense, calcified script that resisted all further surgical intervention.
Prior to the containment order, the two researchers remained in high-security isolation within the observatory’s subterranean wards. Having lost traditional sensory input, existing as live relays for a signal that has found a permanent home in their marrow, the two were no longer classified as patients but as ‘Primary Source Material’. Their status is now unknown.
Silence at the Perimeter
The Valis Observatory continues to be one of the world’s most advanced radioastronomy and optical spectroscopy stations, albeit in light of events post-1977 its remit has been radically scaled back. All 14 acres of Goatswood remain under military quarantine with soldiers instructed to use lethal force on anyone breaching the perimeter. Needless to say the residents of the nearby village have long since disappeared.
While the Association of Therolinguistics and dedicated astrobiologists continue to build on the findings of Dr Wetherall, the mycelium continues its rhythmic, silent clicking beneath the Shropshire soil. As such, we must confront the possibility that we were never the intended audience of the 1977 signal but instead find ourselves acting as its accidental emissary.
- Wetherall, M. “Diffuse Plasma as Proto-Biological Entity.” Annals of Speculative Astronomy 3, no. 2 (1979): 45-61. ↩︎
- Haldane, P. “Celestial Aberration and Contemporary Astronomical Anxieties.” Sokal Nouveau #205 (1978) ↩︎
- Association of Therolinguistics (1974). Extracts from the Journal: On the Literary Merits of the Acacia Seed. ↩︎
- Wetherall, M. (1982). The Valis Field Trials: Paralinguistic Resonance and the Collapse of the Subject (1982) ↩︎




