Two complimentary early proto-bergmetal moments, however, do merit highlighting at this stage as potential reference points for future measurements. The first is the appearance of the mountain as object of ludic post-futurality and mystical flight in Black Sabbath’s “Supernaut”: “I want to reach out and touch the sky / I want to touch the sun / But I don’t need to fly / I’m gonna climb up every mountain of the moon / Find the dish that ran away with the spoon” (Black Sabbath Vol. 4 1972). The subject of this song is the darkly innocent paradox of a conquering spirit who has left conquest behind, a pure climber-flyer who summits everything without needing to fly, exceeds all limits, yet is not in the least weighed down by the accomplishment of doing so and who alpinely dwells above all contingency and relation: “Got no religion / Don’t need no friends / Got all I want and I don’t need to pretend.” The Supernaut is a mystically playful mountaineer of telos and time itself, one who thus ends up assuming the high apophatic topos of the old God of Mt. Sinai whom none can see and live: “Don’t try to reach me ’cause I’ll tear up your mind / I’ve seen the future and I’ve left it behind.”