Suit Of Lights

I told this journalist a few days ago, regarding the up-coming Report to Congress by the CIA on what the US Government 'knows' about ET Aliens, that I would need to say just one name in connection with what happened with the original engagement with ET's back in the late Fifties and you would all be stuck for an answer.

Now I'm not going to explicitly blurt it out here but okay, just to relieve some of the pressure, it has nothing to do with the killing of Kennedy!

...Actually I will go in a totally bizarre direction. If you keep up with these articles, sooner or later something will 'click.'

Spanish silk shawl...

I was just speaking earlier today with a Spanish lady, whose surname is something like 'Talladega' which does not mean the same thing as the word in the Creek Indian language, which means 'border.' In Spanish the name means something like a 'shawl.'

Anyway I asked her for her view on Spanish Bull Fighting, and she said it was a form of torture. And I'm more than a little inclined to agree.

The Iberian Peninsula (Spain and Portugal, and other smaller places in there), is an incredibly ancient place - this is where we have the Altamira Caves, of course. Some clever people think the Spanish people themselves are related, somehow not just to the ancient Phoenicians who went there, but to the original inhabitants of the legendary 'Atlantis.'

Atlantis, as you know, was an Empire which venerated the god Poseidon, and held rituals concerning bulls sacred to the god. These kinds of rituals were all over the place in the Mediterranean - Minoan Crete, Saqqara in Egypt, obviously - the burial place of the Apis Bulls.

The costume worn by bullfighters is called the 'suit of lights' - traje de luces.

Some occult thinkers will tell you, that there are plenty of written records by a number of ancient writers, to the effect that not only were special bulls used in the rituals sacred to Poseidon, but in fact, there were all kinds of things going on -, there was the (somehow) intermingling of DNA from these bulls and a certain Queen (Europa), and also the infusion of some kind of 'spirit' beings into the bulls as well. This idea is still intact in the Spanish bull fighting culture, which has myths and legends about the 'spirit' of particular bulls. There remain, certain occult practices too, right up to this day involving secret places of worship, altars and shrines, to the god Poseidon (the Spanish language equivalent), that persist within the culture of matadors.

Going back to my first direction in the opening paragraphs, though, I would suggest, that the bulls and the bull fighters... ...are the same thing.

Bull fighting is highly organised, extremely rigid in its conduct, and the death of the bull is 'arranged' according to a strict plan, and a strict ancient tradition of movements and provocations. Superficially, the bull is a very daunting opponent, deadly and dangerous. On the whole though, it is the trained matador that gets the better of the fiercely charging, enormously powerful and enraged beast. The matador's job is not to lose their cool, even though they may have limited emotional feelings of admiration and respect for the animal. The matador's role is that of a cold-blooded killer.

When the matador goes through their ritualistic donning of the 'suit of lights,' they become literally 'dressed to kill.'

In the Islamic narrative, the Dajjal, is a deceiver (and so too, does the matador, deceive the bull...), but he is also extremely glamorous on the outside.

Statua del Nettuno... 

In the Christian narrative, the devil has horns and is angry because 'he knows his hour is coming...' ...when he is to be terminally defeated.

The devil has an anger like a goaded bull, but the matador has a costume covered in 'lights.'

...Don't think of the matador as a hero, my friends - he is the Saqqara bull spirit... He provokes death, he provokes anger, and he kills maliciously and deliberately, and in the end, wantonly. He knows the limitations of the huge, muscular, charging, enraged, bull. He is not, facing death scornfully in the face - he is death, he deals death. But inside, he is the beast, he is the animal spirit wanting primeval suffering, vain struggle - he lusts for blood.

As you know, and I'm sure you do know, Nero claimed to be a descendant of the Egyptian god of the Deep Sea, Naunet.

The standard narrative, of course, is that Nero caused the flames, that his fire brigades went to put out, for a fee. Nowadays, academics dispute this folklore.

But my advice to you, is - don't step into the ring, and don't get taken in by the shiny costumes. Because the people in the shiny jackets, will walk you into an ever tightening circle, goading you to do better and to do more, along the way, knowing that your lactic acid is building up all the while, and yet they will keep you more or less alive by letting you walk around in smaller circles. Until they laugh at you in the face while you cannot move, and insert the estoque deep into your heart. And exsanguinate you.

So. I have given you a clear picture of what to actually look at. Don't look at the villain - how big and strong and fearsome they are. That is a lie. It is not the lie, because it is only a small part of the whole lie.

If you think you are never going to see the bright shiny hero, look again.

Letters And Posts

I've just come from engaging in some frivolity with someone about 'evidence' and 'logic,' during which bout I was so bored I pulled out that old thing about the stick bending in the water according to the 'evidence' of your eyes - which of course, is contradicted by the rationality of your brain.

No reason - just looks good.

And this is a good link to what we have already spent some time looking at here, which is, namely, what your mind will hand to you, when you have cut it off from the stimulation of the continuous stream of data from your ordinary senses. 'Polyvagal theory' in part proposes that the emotions felt, arising from your stomach, and your throat (feelings of constriction, production of saliva, other things), are able to be mediated by regular breathing.

I mean we have gone already a long way from just that simplistic, if possibly still valid idea about what our minds perceive and what pre-dispositions we may have to ideas - in the narrative here!

We have strayed far away from any such rigor of 'proof' and 'evidence.'

Strayed, I tell you! And in much darkness, too.

Thus I do need to at minimum remind people that a post-box is not a coffee shop or a meeting place of actual people. 

When you were in junior school, back in the very old days -, you would have been familiarized with note pads, writing paper, pencils or pens and ink, and shown how to write letters, and then how to place these inside of envelopes, and then stick postage stamps onto those, and then how to go post them at the post office or how to drop them into the letter box.

And maybe, if you were lucky or if you had written a real good letter, properly addressed to a correspondent, you might get a letter back. This all involves a communication system, with an infrastructure.

So. This is not the same thing as going out into the market-place and screaming that 'God is dead' as Zarathustra did, or that 'everyone is mad' (did he also do that, I can't remember...) and having some actual real physical material person, grab you by the shoulders and shake you about.

However... ...and here is the thing: you might have someone show up at an assignation via the process of letter correspondence...

Enough. Enough. We don't need to say any more.

I will just casually mention in passing, though, that in Monaco, which has a current population of around 45,000 people, there have been 3 deaths of people with Covid ; ), and 70+ cases of people who tested positive to Covid over the last twelve months, and no 'lock down' and no masks. I got that from a source personally, who is in Monaco. Wiki covers it all in quite fascinating ways but what I have said is both true and news, which means the Australian government says you have to pay for it if you repeat what I wrote verbatim via Google. LOLOLOL.

You know though, funny thing about letters... ...they are a lot more powerful than people often realize. Obviously, there are many things I would like to say, but have to couch in the most vague of terms. That is the day and age in which we live.

Do you think people write letters still in Monaco? I doubt it.

Yacht in Monaco - can charter this... Wow.
Cool.

They are too busy having a good time, spending their limitless wealth - aka money - and worrying about whether to bring cash on board of the yachts they get invited onto, in order to tip the service staff and crew. ...How much to pack into their soft bags. Whether they will need 2-ply cashmere or as much as 4-ply, sweaters.

And oh oh, brushing up on their conversation points, you know, so that they can be real interesting social company, because they all are, right?

Bridge, Bridge, help me out here - was Mark Z., any different in RL than the zoob he is at Senate Hearings?

He lives out in South Lake Tahoe, doesn't he? Did you bang on his door, Bridget? Or did you not get the courage up to bang on any doors? Yet...?

Oh, he's married you say. 'Married?' Said Sandor Szavost.

This is known as 'the Veronica move.'

'Yes. Ma-a-a-a-a-ried.' Said Alice Harford, waving her ring-finger around, laconically.

Slippery roads, heavy winds everywhere. A little slip, a little slide, here, there...

Even the Evil Reptilian Satanic Annunaki whatever, think they are so so so in control, yeah? All the time. But a little tiny slip.

...Is all it takes.

Lick the stamp, lick the envelope, don't cut your tongue.

The Midnight People

There are quite a few phrases in French that for some reason probably pertaining to the French culture itself, deal with things that go on in the middle of the night. For the rest of us who are not French - although well, there is something in me there from way back - but at least for those of us living in the modern Western world other than in France, we'd all expect to be asleep at midnight, at least traditionally before the contemporary Cyberpunk world of the internet and 'late-nite' Ramen Noodle bars and neon signs and flying cars and all of that...

'Midi et minuit' - well that means 'a quarter past midnight.'

'Midi a minuit' - is something that could be a bunch of different things but the one I like is 'darkness at midday;' it doesn't quite mean that literally: it means midday and midnight/night and day, that sort of thing.

'L'heure bleue.' God only knows what that means. The French don't know - you won't get two to agree if you even get two of them together on it at any one time...

Anyway I'm going to introduce you to something different now...

You are going to see things.

Stick your headphones on, whack the volume up high, and concentrate on what I'm telling you... And go to the bottom of the article here and press 'play.' And then come back up here.

This is the kind of thing the great producer and director of female superstars - Vadim - was able to do to them. He got them into 'a zone.' Every movie he ever made you could easily say was a dog except for two or three scenes in each one of them which places him in the top two or three of all film directors of all time.

Vadim.

When I write a letter, that is, an 'alphabet' for super advanced intelligent beings it doesn't consist of a sound, it consists of the sound, and the color attached in this occasion, and several other things as well.

If you breathe in air that is colored, or you are standing under a shower playing sprays of LED-colored light over you, and the mists bouncing off your body are a particular color, if it is green, then it is easier to slip you out of alignment with all the other colors by rocking sounds or light frequencies back and forth around the balance point, the midpoint.

You can also artificially attempt to do it yourself and some of you will be able to - by just letting your eyes follow a figure-of-eight pattern in front of them, endlessly, really fast if you like or if you can, and even better yet... ...oh no, I can't say here; what I've said will get you there anyway.

Just be careful that you are not trying this in some high class French restaurant deep into the evening, when they brandish about that other phrase they have: 'en salle.' Because that usually means 'flambe en salle' which if you're not careful can easily turn into 'the room is on fire' and not just 'fire in the room.'

...So anyway, there you are, in your living room, lights down low (because it's demi et minuit, right?), and you think you're all alone...

lol.

You are alone, right?

There's also a specialized device around the place these days too - the Russians have it, so do the Americans, and they, the US Embassy people in Cuba or Ecuador or some place just last week formally announced they had been subjected to such things - and if I poked that thing anywhere near you and turned it on while you were doing that 'figure-of-eight' thing, you would go right off your rocker and not be able to pull yourself back from all kinds of weirdo sensations and hallucinations.

Okay so it may not work on some of you in this particular 'manual' structure that we are playing around with just right here and now.

But don't think I can't get it to work, just by explaining it all a bit better. I'm just not intending to go too far here right now because it is dangerous of a thing, really. Some of you will work it out anyway as it is.

We - you - us/we're only half way there at this stage. Believe me there are people who can 'kick this right over the edge' from this point,

A Damsel With A Dulcimer

"A damsel with a dulcimer

In a vision once I saw..."

Out of 'Kubla Khan' by Coleridge, obviously.

Although I am personally not a fan of incense, and of opium generally, still I am quite familiar with it in the Chinese culture, having grown up among people and having been in places where opium was imbibed by some of those people.

Tengri Mongolian shamanic culture
has this, too...

We ought not to presume some of the French Bohemians were not fully aware of the deeper aspects of the Oriental opium culture, and there are a lot of hints of the culture present in the French absinthe traditions of that time.

Chinese classical scholar Taoists, know how to 'read the smoke...'

This is what they do, in darkened, quiet and rather airless, still rooms, where they burn various kinds of ancient woods, like Chinese oud and amber (the real thing has a tremendous scent when burned, although none at all as a 'stone/resin') resin. There are many great secrets to this practice, including the use of 'purple' dye - same as what the Hebrew 'tent-of-the-presence' priests use.

They 'read the smoke.'

The Romantic Poets (1800 - 1850) were also known to have an interest in opium.

I just told a fanatical Campbell's Soup X-tian: 'Did you come back with the feather that you plucked from the angelic being that you were with when you were last up there?'

That kind of talk doesn't necessarily shut anyone up, of course.

But here, here is some music they play up there though...

Helps if you are being louche while you listen. ('Louche' is the French expression for the dripping process of water through a sugar cube into the absinthe that turns it to the pearlescent white liquid which has all the components required to make the green fairy appear. I mean sure, I could tell you the real secret to it - that is, what you can do in modern times when they have supposedly toned-done the active ingredients in the commercially-available absinthe. Simple too. Do you want to know?

Also, maybe you have to adopt the same postures that the romance poets all seem to have done, when they were being portrait painted... Notice how they all stick their hands under their chins like that? LOL

Must be 'a thing.' Better do that, then.

Snow In Lake Tahoe

Our friend around here and someone who I am also a great fan of, the illustrious Sedona Guru, Bridget N., is currently - like, right now today - in Lake Tahoe, where it is under a goodly covering of 'rich-people' snow.

Sorry, BN, but you are the inspiration for
here, for today!

And she said, just as an aside to some people to whom she was speaking: 'if the mirror effect in your life has not gotten you the mansion that you are thinking about...'

So I just had to open my mouth, of course.

"Bridge. Just put on your Loubies and walk up to the best-looking mansion place there is there where you are, and knock on the door and say: 'I'm lost. I'm Little Red Riding Hood and I need to get to my gramma's house before the sun sets. Can you help me?'

"And then, if you happen to be also holding a bottle of 'Daring Escape' Red with you, well whoever is in there will prolly let you inside. If they have any brains at all."

Can't help myself, you see.

...But most of you here want to know what you do if you're a guy, right? And still waiting for that mansion. The H++ modified people are going to have to look elsewhere for bad advice, especially from me (if they're even looking for bad advice that is!).

Hell you don't want no mansion! Girls will just be wandering up to your door all the darn time, telling you fairy tales.

You want to know the secrets, though - yes?

Well... It's all about 'shared agency.' With girls.

LOL

I think I should maybe start a wine brand and call it 'shared agency.'

Send a crate to our local DG of Education, maybe. She used to be the head of the UK government's anti-terror initiative in the UK, you know. Happens to be the best DG we've had down here so far. Her policy is that 'anti-terror' strategies start at primary school. 

We're in good hands over here.

And, it isn't snowing.

No snow.

No mansions for you.

All is quiet, Joe Biden is asleep at the wheel, Kathleen Kennedy has dumped Gina Carano and gave herself the Super Wokemon Award for it. No one is commenting. 

What could possibly go wrong?

Oh and 'science, science.'

Can't forget that. Science was invented yesterday, by the way, in case you were unaware - back when my great uncle bequeathed his private Greek classics texts to the Bodleian, they didn't have science back then, because people were stuck in religious superstition and all that, and then later, when the two world wars wiped out the young people, well, there actually were no Universities 'handing down from above' the heavenly golden tablets of 'science.'

So actually science was invented last Tuesday. By the Woke-y people.

They know the truth, because, as Icke says all the time - 'you've been lied to.' When Satan offered that bottle of Daring Escape wine, sorry, the apple, to Eve, he was actually exposing to her the experimental methodology of science.

All bow to the great god, 'Science.' There is only one 'Science' and 'Science' is his name. 

All those who are DISBELIEVERS in 'Science' will go to Hell and have their faces burned off each day, only to be re-supplied with new skin and faces so that they may be burned off again, next day, and on and on for Eternity.

This is what happens to the Kufar,(disbelievers) of 'Science.'

Are you... ...a DISBELIEVER??! In SCIENCE???? May science (peace be unto it) protect you from the Shaytan.

Praise be to Science that I am so fortunate - not like the rest of you scum - and know 'SCIENCE.'

My life is perfect and I wallow in my self-importance all day long and I certainly do not need mansions, red wine, Louboutins, or girls.

Oh-oh, engine falls off plane. Not to worry, accident.

Everything's fine. Science has our backs.