(not sure about the order, don’t wish to revisit the thing too closely myself)
But, what people must understand is that I was assigned a very perilous high stakes task with very low instructions and even lower advantages. What I was living since the Initiation began and magic and discovery and feedback, plus content and results were so high and so very real, and the danger so very much present at every turn in real life drama and political intrigues, the year was 2009. Summer. We had another opportunity to be reunited and seal the deal, this time, Lou and Laurie Anderson were touring together and coming to Antwerp. The world was in turmoil. There was the Iranian uprising, squashed by the Obama administration, the sudden death of Michael Jackson, and I had just come to realise that JRDunn at the American Thinker seemed to be another incarnation (plaisantin et fin stratège) of Lou Reed. And I had so many cases of synchronicity, being in those early days of the Obama years (leading to Ted Kennedy’s funeral, Obama starting his declared war with Fox, me still getting all my energy from Fox’s anchorpeople;) it seemed we had reached a peak and there was full 100% oneness all around. My phone even rang three quick times in a row in that precious Saturday afternoon as to tell me, yes, we are with you and this is real, and I had such a sense of relief and achievement that I felt ten foot tall for the first time in 10 years again, only to then slowly descend into panic and hellish mode. Lou and Laurie were to knock on my door any time now, they didn’t, so my mind started bringing me in the opposite direction. A scenario started building itself with what if someone or someones along the way have betrayed me, and nothing is happening like I think it is going. One by one in all directions, I had to establish various hypothesises, starting in Iran. Having suddenly doubts about Lou’s own friends, some of Fox’s journalists, Laurie Anderson herself in a worst case scenario where Lou too was never visited by God the way I was and the way his lyrics were describing so clearly and perfectly. That day from dusk to dawn I didn’t sleep. I was sending right and left messages to all the people I thought need to hear from me, saying different things, revelations and messages to different platforms, private or public. I had one mission only, to save Lou from imminent murder. I needed to let people know that I had thwarted their plans and I knew who they were.
I slept around 8 in the morning. Woke up at 11. I was at peace then. Later during the day I heard in the news the first verdict about MJ’s death. A step in the right direction. Without forcing it or pushing it or asking for it, I had the opportunity to also go where I never had gone before because God never showed me any reason to doubt Laurie Anderson’s intentions and true friendship. Whether in dreams or just in my clear appeased mind, L.A. would always appear as a friend in the know, not a rival, not an ‘agent of the Cabal.’
At Fox, Geraldo and Shep would play for the liberal camp and worse. Besides few real trustworthy friends, male and female, Lou would have to fake real bonding with many amongst his friends. Proud progs and proud marxists. Or a case of good enough. Let’s get to work.
In that scenario, Lou would be very much anti-God and kind of addicted to various drugs and sins and sinners. If not him personally the people around him, and no alternatives. Still keeping his secret garden and sacred place intact but letting dominatrix and manipulators run his life and affairs. In one case, I could imagine that he innocently had related his own encounter with God and his being introduced to me in visions but not having much more informations or directions, he would have confided to LA who would then convince him that she was the one. Later, she would hijack my first letters of introduction and maybe even control the first American messengers that knew her, not Lou. Friends of friends. In which case, I would only become real to him once I started sending comments and messages on line. You Tube, then Twitter, then my own blog. Not to break the silence, we still were fighting higher powers. TPTB. We couldn’t count on the Bushes, nor Clintons, or Obama, or Albrights. Nobody trustworthy. All being the biggest criminals and crime families the US has ever known. (Our fate was sealed. Which it was already and anyway, making this ordeal an impossible proposition and very scary too.)
What plays well for me and them is that God is forgiving and non violent. He can strike deals with the devil itself. All is required is for them to drop the pose and accept the charges. Vanish into obscurity and for once let the Good lead the way for the betterment of humanity and the glory of God and the beauty of life. From the worst acts of horror and violence inflicted upon the innocent and the weak.
Sorry about that. Anyway, I don’t even try to know the truth anymore. I think and hope that the truth is much less dramatic. But maybe not. What is for sure is that these are the dynamics at play. Names are interchangeable. What counts really is that there are people out there being the real deal and playing those games with real power and real blood on their hands. I don’t believe L.A. is part of the conspiracy. Nor would I wish it was true, at all. In all this I am the one that has been expendable. The price of Knowledge. Well, that counts for something.
While I couldn’t be more serious about what I was doing and why I continued getting all the informations out as they were affecting me and the story, with many ups and downs, that was a clear case of down with one day visit into hell and back again to get heartfelt words/truths out of my mind in a state of absolute panic to expose not the real culprits, God forbid, but the people that are at the top of the food chain and surrounding (sucking the life of) the beautiful people and celebrities, fake and real ones alike. Friends or foes. Wicked or woke. And since I started as God’s Apprentice, in search of Lou Reed and willingly going straight into the belly of the beast by sending my complete intentions and beliefs and goals thru Fox to the Bush administration, in my second or third attempt, the first one being an American writer who visited Iran in March 2000 and became my first Godsend messenger and helper. He then introduced us, my Persian friend visiting NY, to his pal, journalist at the NY Daily News, who would in a direct contact with T Greenfield-Sanders give him the same first letter of introduction and the following letter written to that American writer, that was my confession about what exactly had just happened and my reasons for my sudden interest in Lou Reed, I added new pictures of my paintings to the dossier, and after a while we finally got one response. A comment of appreciation passed to George Rush thru T G-S from Lou Reed, and reported by phone to Terry Ward who then wrote to my friend for me (I had no email yet and I wanted my trustworthy friends to be part of the action and benefit from it too:) “No doubt, Timothy said, he was touched by the revelation that you (me) have found both him and J-M Basquiat as your source of inspiration.”
The reason I chose that path and not a conventional one — the original plan until Abbas Khan* appeared to me which was soon after my first draft for a possible letter for Lou Reed –; talking mysteriously and remaining in the shadow, sending messengers and making sure I have few chosen witnesses all along to keep my conversation with Lou a public matter, not shy about it, but always respectful and truthful; should be obvious to anyone who would pay attention since in the following 6 months or so, I flied into an entire different reality, exploring that subject and many others in deep, by meeting God and accepting his Proposition and Challenge, maturing and growing as fast as one can, scaring many, losing few, inspiring others and coming out empowered, with a higher calling but an impossible task at my feet, accomplished painter with much to offer. And Lou was already my ally (husband!) in the know, with me, night and day, JM too, inside my mind listening to every word and every thought, under the auspices of God, in happiness and much sadness and distress; ultimately, if it wasn’t for the lyrics of all his songs since the album ‘Magic and Loss’, I wouldn’t have proceeded in this fashion. Because there could still be the possibility that he didn’t know me in real time, that he didn’t meet the divine the way I thought, he didn’t hear and see about himself, as one of God’s favourite mensch to be sure, having all the attributes of an enlighten soul, with a heart of gold, same as JMB, his younger self. Truth-seeker, light yet serious and deep. Generous, giving, vulnerable. Open-minded, freedom lover, independent. Man of the people for the people; Defender of the helpless. fair. Just. Graceful. Beautiful, reliable. Honorable. Responsible. Talented. Gifted. Solid. Risk taker. Wild, free. Hurt. Humble. A true friend if people would appreciate it and show grace. Nobody’s puppet. Smart and hilarious. a real Artist. First class punk.
Of course, doubts and confusion would come and go. With many slaps in the face each time I had to abandon all hope and face another cold reality like learning that he and L.A. were together and his second album, dedicated to her specifically. At that time I had both Magic and Loss and Set the twilight Reeling at home in Tehran, I had just come out of the intense few weeks visions and revelations, I was no more free inside my body and mind, and suddenly I realised that some lyrics he sings seem awfully close to a story I know. I tried hard to push the idea away as wishful thinking and impossible, too crazy to be true, but couldn’t deny the fact and the images. When I became sure, I had another shock, they were written for someone specific, not me. As usual, thru the years, each time it happens, after a while, a time of sadness, frustration, sulking, I regain faith and hope and confidence, start laughing again with them, have Lou join me in my arms because God (and myself) want it that way and at that precise moment, so I took it, this is part of the plan. She is his ally and has accepted to play the beloved. This way nobody will bother him while we may have to stay apart for many years to come. And anyway in his case, since the early nineties when he started his journey and had to wait for me to wake up and look after him. Yet, it wasn’t easy and I never tried to listen nor buy her work to see and analyse for myself where she would stand to see if there was any clue about what exact role she would be playing. Even if I was missing the best news and info but I just couldn’t. Still don’t. Plus it was his territory. I was not going to sneak into his affairs. I myself had one album of Suzanne Vega at the time (with the hit song Caramel) and to my happy surprise, she too had written lyrics that would strangely fit with Lou’s reality and my states of mind and future habits considering my circumstances. I took it as a given. As one reading anyway. As always and for all their songs. Later when I bought her other albums starting in the early nineties (with 99.9° F, powerful tribute to Lou’s possible going crazy after meeting His maker) I had no difficulties seeing that as part of his precious inner circle and closest friends, she would know of his ordeal and the dynamics at work, she would write her best songs and music for him because she recognised him and respected him and loved him. (– 23 Nov. Happy Thanksgiving)
(*) Or maybe I wrote that letter right after I popped the question to Abbas khan, early on, about Lou Reed and my having any chance he would relate to me (considering our world of difference) and the response was: you will touch his heart, as a very sensitive man with a vulnerable soul. Something to that effect.) WHOA. At the time, I thought he was still married and would be pleased to simply be part of his inner circle. For all I knew, we could have been brother and sister in a past life. Another time, speaking always in riddles, Abbas khan (who wore Safavi era clothes) told me that in the future, I would be a mother, a friend, a sister/brother. All I remember was that there was no mentioning of spouse or lover in any of the designations. Which frustrated me a bit. Because I was starting to feel quite attached to Jean-michel already who would be around me since the time he came thru and of course always present at each session, my grandfather too. My friend could see him and describe him to me in his various outfits, black and white once, ‘looking beautiful’, he would. I had started a conversation with him when alone and was getting feedback slowly and surely. I had private conversations with all of them. As in rethinking everything I had heard from our latest exchange thru the medium. Good and bad. Rejecting the bad when it didn’t fit my feelings and truth and by magic getting all the answers and reassurances at the next meeting from Abbas khan or Jean Michel having this private understanding that we had reached another milestone and mutual accord and that all was going according to plan and following a very thorough script that has to be approved by all parties to be valid, which included the universe we call God too.
Once Jean-Michel came thru, and I couldn’t be more happy and excited but also getting anxieties about the possibility of losing him, is he here just for the Art or also because we have a real path together? And of course I wanted to hear that it was more, much more than what it was said at first by him. He would say that he came to help me expand my space (paintings.) He talked also about himself and when he came, he showed sadness, like someone who had missed his own life, opportunity. Surely he had me wanting to help him as much as he was going to help me. He said that he was too angry in his years. That anger does nobody good and is a losing proposition. He also complimented/flattered us on the best time we had here with our circle of friends and gatherings. And we did and from now on I knew he was always around. He told me that it was him who had put this idea in the mind of my friend when she said to me one day: You should paint, Fariba. So many clues. Another time, he said, smoke grass a lot. That’s all I needed to hear. The approval of the Elders. Because my mother surely was always very anti-drug, not differentiating much one with the other. But he also said that his taking acid burnt his mind out. Obviously. All I could see was that he seemed he had an unfinished business with life, with much doubts, presenting himself in a pitier position than what he deserved. With comments like, Will history remember one’s art or not? Which is the goal and guarantee of one’s greatness. He had nothing to fear coming from me and I didn’t had nothing to fear either. I considered him already accomplished and worthy on all counts, so there would be no lies or duplicities between us. Of course the reason I wanted to be sure he wasn’t there just by accident was because I never expected such sudden reversal in my fate and didn’t know yet how serious these encounters were although I had faith in myself and what I was or wasn’t, and ambition, spiritually speaking. I only act on trust, full trust. Crazy will always rhyme with worthy and legitimacy. A right from on high. So Jean-Michel put my mind at ease, when he said without giving more details that when I die, he will be amongst the people who will welcome me first. Sure enough, I had my answer. Now the courtship could begin.
So for a time I had forgotten about the letter (draft) to Lou Reed and in fact felt a little embarrassed to even mention his name again which I didn’t anymore until the visions would start (second or third time.) The true start too. Between the first and the second, I went to my medium with many questions for Abbas Khan, and I got additional comments and clues. I also heard that it was ‘frustrating’ for him (JM) because I wouldn’t open up and it was hard for him to get thru. (I thought how much more open should I be? But okay I get it. Another invitation of sorts) I was meant to think that I had the task of letting him come in my body so that we could paint together. It was never about visions and all the things that followed, although it was about me learning to See. I was to accept or not God/thru Abbas Khan to show me the beauty of this world but also the darkness. Will you? Also will you Jump when we tell you to jump? These were abstract concepts, I wasn’t so sure about the jumping. I was just okay I had Jean Michel at my side and with me for the task at hand, so I was armed to the teeth. A little amount of pot as sacred tool which I had bought some for the first time in my life instead of taking few drags at parties and around friends. In any cases, my task at first was to go downtown buy a big piece of canvas (2×3 meters) and start a painting that would represent the Big Picture, to be naked and ‘wear veils’, (well, that didn’t sound like me and I let that go, as something symbolic, as to convey that you are close enough and it is very sacred and approved from far above,) then let your hand loose in order to let Jean Michel come thru and paint with you, instead of you, while you may come see us on the other side or something close. But I didn’t start that painting before March, we were in November. It didn’t started high at first. Few month later in summer, the first magic parts appeared. But the sitting on the couch, stuck really, during the first sessions and letting God take me/us wherever He wished, that did happen strong and quite beautifully and magnificently. Scary from the get go too. (– 26 Nov)
Ep. 758 FADE TO BLACK w/ David Wilcock Special Event : LIVE
When I went to the medium to bring some light to what I was being shown without giving away any informations specifically, and I don’t remember everything in the exact order, but it started by making me some kind of saintly figure. I had also during the latest conversations, heard of the name and fate of Fatimah – daughter of Mohammed and wife of Ali – and the hint that I had some similarity with her. My knowledge of the history of Islam was very poor, not knowing where to start, whom to trust, knowing of the many opposing versions and truths, falsifications, not reading in the original language, etc. Also the modern day Islam was so backwards that it was not very appealing in the first place. But if I am right, they spoke of her brutal death (hit behind a door) as an invitation for me to look into the matter. But I didn’t until today for some reasons. Shia Islam was/is often considered more legitimate/superior, especially by Iranians themselves, but also by French researcher Henri Corbin who wrote extensively about Iran. Books I had read in fact despite the true challenge of his literary style. Not looking to start another war with the Sunnis myself. But Iranians not speaking Arabic and considering their culture and practices less barbaric and cruel (today they are cruel alright) have no interest in conquering their neighboring countries. Just keep their own borders closed to be sure. And protect their own land. And that of their allies. Now I am not talking of usurpers and exploiters of the faith and usual suspects, vampires by any other name, and the long slow regression of a once great civilisation due to politics, war games, taboos, lies, ignorance and pride. But in my own recent researches and inquiries, I had regained respect for the Islamic faith and precious contribution. But then 9/11 happened and it went all downhill from there. The worst aspects of a religion would be force fed worldwide by design, not quite in the open originally, but slowly the masks would drop and all the dots connected. A communistic / globalist ploy of conquest and destruction that had started since 1979 to be sure on many fronts and with the help of the CIA and other world powers, and let us not forget all the insults and accusations of racism and selfishness and backwardness which come along for people like me who would see thru the manipulations and danger ahead and ultimate goal but are laughed at and shadow banned and named nazis. While we never cared about color as long as it is not monocolored or tone of course, but we care about freedom and good government and less assholery and true justice and less division. A free west and a free east. Above all, an interest in truth. Not flattery, not thuggery, not cowardly. The divine truth of a magical God and a wonderful world and beautiful universe right at hand and for all to enjoy behold and inherit. The key word is love. Too gay for the not so cool crowd? Or maybe not hardcore enough? You prefer struggle and hardship and submission and horror and control and twisted equality and shaming and hiding and banning. We need to talk.
(– Nov. 27)
Laurie Anderson @OnlyAnExpert
JUST ANNOUNCED: Laurie will read from her new book, All the Things I Lost in the Flood, and perform at @TownHallNYC on February 15. Tickets on sale now.
11:20 PM – 28 Nov 2017
Don’t look at me now. Don’t think I have become insensitive and have forgotten how young people think and speak and act in their early years and in the context of their environment, all victims of victims, but exploiters too. Well, exactly. The left doesn’t play fair. Which is the main reason one declare itself conservative. If you must win the big game by cheating and lying and using actors and chaos to make your point, you have lost the debate and your argument doesn’t hold. If you win by promoting ignorance and using the ignorance of your constituents to again win your argument, that’s very much cheating and unworthy of respect. Assuming you know what you are doing and your masters at the top surely know, someone is not being transparent, nor honest. In fact it is promoting the opposite of what it preaches, while slandering the other party and much worse the people themselves. And if we want to posit that the other party isn’t so good or without reproach either or hiding another nefarious agenda, well if you cared to watch, you would quickly recognise the real different fractions inside the general denomination and see that the real fighters in that group have made clear that they are not supporting the true bigots and saboteurs, even paid moles that work for the same malefic forces that look to dominate the world and enslave it. Globalists, Satanists, Banking schemers, War Profiteers, Nazis & all derivatives. We call them Rinos mainly. They call themselves moderates and compassionate (neo)conservatives and inclusive and sophisticated.
It’s all about nuance too. You can defend the gay community without wanting to promote homosexuality and think it is wise to let them adopt children. I know I would hate to be adopted by gays and lesbians alike. I did hope my parents were not so stiff and protective and restrictive when I was a teen, but life sucks and I can easily imagine other circumstances creating many other hurts and trauma that wouldn’t have made me happier or freer or more prosperous. So who can tell really. We have the parents we were meant to have for good reasons. Being a glass half full kind of person, I usually tend to compare myself with worse not better. Even if it seems better, I never forget to see the weak points in that better. Meaning that with my personality, I sure would live many conflicts anyway. So if I have one complain with life, it is to be who I am, not who they are/were. Like with being born girl, not boy, in a culture, many, that gives boys the upper hand and most of the privileges, and responsibilities too, supports, rights, and being also fair, I could appreciate the kind of privileges that would be granted to me. As a woman. More peace of mind, safer space. More time to achieve my, any goals etc. Also, instead of blaming your own shortcomings on others, your parents, their lack of support, more support, financial and otherwise (for me, spiritual mostly), the truth is that it is our own lack of passion and determination, laziness, ignorance to follow thru our dreams that are the reasons of our slow growth or failures. Society fails its youth. Schools don’t provide what they could provide. It’s all smoke and mirrors. There are many factors, it seems things are getting worse, although there is always a balancing act, towards good and bad but truly good since the bad is where power strive. And socialism ain’t good. Theocracies and communist governments are deadly. As to the West, America, the reason people come to its defense despite all the ills, and her many criminal actions, is because the original idea on which was built the country (even if it was hoped to be hijacked fully at a later time,) still, the idea, like with the idea/concept of God Himself, which many use and abuse to sell and hurt and dominate mankind and entire economies, is what caused and guaranteed its success and worldwide dominance and respect, until more recently due to the many obvious abuses that are unveiled and made known. Still America will let the good take control of the wheel when there is a true movement growing and awakening. And when it does it is only America that could change and transform and reform itself and the entire world. It needs all the help it can get worldwide, the only way to succeed. And that’s the secret and only road to freedom and blessing for all. President Obama pretended to be that leader that would transcend right and left and unite the world. He was a bolder pawn of the establishment with full power granted to him “by the populace at large” and TPTB, an orchestrated propaganda with many years of preparation thru political correctness and liberal privilege. A deadly combination that created incredible chaos and death across the globe, East and West. But then between Bush’s actions and Obama’s bait and switch policies and pseudo rebirth, Americans woke up and the counter-revolution started in 2009 and ended with the election of DJT. The battle is ongoing. The same forces that control and propagate the fake news, phoney praises and fake reality are relentless but in the back, the white hats and the good people in government and across the land are busy piercing the black hearts of these high maintenance pimps and prostitutes. With God and his many angels’ benevolent help. And for that we are very thankful and hopeful a change is gonna come. (– Dec 1)
Gardens of the Night – Starring John Malkovich – Full Movie
Lou Reed @LouReed
“Between two Aprils I lost two friends/Between two Aprils magic and loss…”
The story of Lou Reed’s ‘Magic and Loss’ from @Hayim_Kobi.
Read & listen: https://buff.ly/2AxnjM3
11:04 PM – 1 Dec 2017:
“Between two Aprils I lost two friends/Between two Aprils magic and loss…”.
The short inscription Lou Reed wrote in the liner notes to his 1992 album Magic and Loss is the backdrop to one of the most inspired albums of his career. At the end of the album credits he wrote: “This album is dedicated to Doc and especially to Rita”. While he preferred to keep the identity of Rita away from the public (“Rita wouldn’t have wanted to be known. I was a very lucky person to know her”), he was open about his recent friendship with legendary songwriter Doc Pomus who died in 1991. Magic and Loss captures the pain and emotions that Reed felt as his friends were dying. This is the story of the album, the musicians who influenced and created it and most importantly, the amazing songs Reed wrote as a healing process from the death of his friends.
When I first read his statement (from a biography I had bought in NY in Jan 2000, last chapter, I believe,) I thought, it fit that Rita is me then. A combination of letters from my first name and from JM’s last name. In the book, the writer(s) thought they had found out who that mystery person was. They were wrong in any case. That wasn’t Lou’s style to hide in plain view. For the same reason that few years later, in Jan 2010, when I read the Boomer Bible, 1991, from author and blogger, Instapunk, aka Robert F Laird, I thought it could only be Lou, and Alice Hate sure looks like it is meant to represent me (visions related,) since in the story, “she was felled in the final days of Punk City.” Once you read this masterpiece of Punk writing, symbolism and story-telling, it is hard not to recognise all the correlations with everything I exposed, including Lou’s very own world and past/present, in the light of everything I was to be shown, believe, and lived. The Apotheosis being the Punk Testament, the last chapter of TBB, as the ultimate challenge to all the fake saviours and humanitarians and do-gooders, next ‘Jesus’ in line, from left and from right, but mostly left since they have such wide followers and sycophants, and control system to prop them up, a challenge**, both intellectual/artistic and moral/spiritual. Manly. From a man, someone who has proven time and time again that in any fair confrontation, he would win on all counts. And has all the scars and a lifetime achievement to prove it.
As for me, you may think I am quite the narcissist to believe I am the one hiding behind all these names and all these words, but who really wants to be me. DOA? I thought so. Plus it has already happened.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
The Queen of Punk City
Here, where the rigs are quiet,
2 Here, where punk fiction seems
3 Dead words and failed chips’ vomit
4 On ruined reams of dreams;
5 I watch the green mold blighting
6 Remembered bands and writing,
7 Their painted wrath and fighting,
8 A mildewed frieze of screams.
I am tired of pain and anger,
2 And punks who warred and bled
3 In hope of hope hereafter
4 For offspring of the dead:
5 I am spent of floods and fires,
6 Red realms of climbing spires,
7 Green seas and woods and mire,
8 And everything but dread.
Here Alice lies for ever,
2 Beneath the Headhouse Square,
3 Where weeds and weak reeds quaver,
4 Whipped dogs and seagulls glare;
5 They sense the swallowed thunder,
6 Entombed, brave heart asunder,
7 But hear her not down under,
8 Nor see her sightless stare.
No deep looks glad or tragic,
2 No gazes veiled or straight,
3 But blueless vials of magic,
4 Blank eyes of Alice Hate;
5 Cold stones of grave decision
6 Choose neither light nor vision,
7 But gray of cancelled mission,
8 In cataracts of slate.
Asleep, without dream or dragon,
2 Inside her wall of thorn,
3 The queen does not awaken,
4 To kiss of life at morn;
5 Her tale is stopt unbidden,
6 Prince Charming’s mount unridden,
7 The ending still unwritten—
8 Her beauty full forlorn.
She waits for no lord’s favor,
2 She waits for no man’s form;
3 Forgets St. Nuke her lover,
4 The nights of moon and storm;
5 Though arms of punks surround her,
6 And prayers kneel about her,
7 No words have yet unbound her,
8 Where she awaits the worm.
From too much faith in caring,
2 From blood and loss escaped,
3 She fell to sleep forswearing
4 The hopes your gods had raped:
5 That no sleep lasts forever;
6 That dead men rise up ever;
7 That even the blackest fever
8 Yields victims who are saved.
Then quest nor queen shall waken,
2 Nor any fire or ice:
3 Nor winged foe of Raven,
4 Nor hibernating mice:
5 Nor living seed nor kernel,
6 Nor greatwing ghosts eternal:
7 Only an Eden infernal,
8 Your vacant paradise.
(**) While you claimed to be such a high mind and such exceptional thinkers and leaders (favourite tool and old trick of yours and your party, the uniparty, born with or without a silver spoon but groomed to develop some twisted messiah complex,) then clearly you would (not!) be ready to sacrifice yourself by ‘dying on the cross,’ to show us how sincere and truthful a man, woman or transgender you are, will you? Did you? Have you? Gore? Clintons? Michelle? Obama? Bushes? Soros? So laughable. All we hear from your kind is much pontificating, and posturing, intimidating, bullying while pretending to save the world and humanity for pennies (pennies for the cause, gold for the money-grabbers.) Plagiarists, sexists, homophobes, vulgar, arrogant, liars, lazy entitled mothers and fathers, whose only test or rite of passage is to engage in the same laws and practices of the most savage and deadly (cults) street gangs. The gruesome killing of the pure and most innocent among us, on small or big scale – war and diseases. To please an abstract demonic master, hungry for blood and in exchange receive his power back, the gift of life, more like living dead, coming from without, with a high price tag and much strings attached (more killing, more blood, more lying,) not from (the God) Within. What load of crap. No wonder they all look like vampires as the years pass if one watches closely and without the heavy make-up. There must be some remedy though.
Meanwhile, ‘You are not worth shitting on,’ as Lou already wrote.
Sorry for the tone. Me, I don’t want nobody to die, to have died, on any crosses, not even, certainly not, Jesus-Christ. He paid with his blood, just not in that way, I would hope, and expect from Our real all powerful merciful Beautiful Father / Creator.
(– Dec 3/4)
My love. The king by any other name a pissoir. You, my love, tower over them all; they are but vermin beneath your heels. They are monkeys. Suit them—frame them to your own vision—but do not let one false word of mockery seep through to your vast heart. I have seen you from close and afar, and your worth
far exceeds your height, your width, the depth of your sorrow.
Oh wilful outcast, doth thou not see the light of our love—our linked fortunes—our hearts melded together into one fine golden braided finery? They listen to the music of idiots and amuse themselves with the sordid miseries of their businesses. They are not the things of angels or of any higher outpost that humanity might aspire to. Your loathsome vomitous businessman king is of the lowest order, his advisors crumbling mockeries of education driven by avarice. My love, dress them in the suits of mockery, and in their advanced state of stupidity and senility, burn and destroy them, so their ashes might join the compost which they so much deserve. If justice on this earth be fleeting, let us for once hear the weeping and the braying of the businessman king. Let them be the the orangutans they are and set them blazing from the chandelier for all to see—hanging from the ceiling by their ridiculous chains and petticoats, which you will have them wear under the guise of costumic buffoonery. He who underestimates in time is bound to find the truth sublime and hollow lie upon the grates of systemic disorder.
Businessmen, you’re not worth shitting on.
Now if we can also reconnect all Muslim (immigrants and natives) with the better parts of their culture and sacred texts, make them understand that their own history and holy texts were falsified long ago by malevolent groups and superpowers as they always do, then maybe the entire world would quickly turn blue and bright again in a very short order. Bloodlessly too. Who wouldn’t like that. Because the truth and beauty is universal and one. And one should be able to recognise what’s true and just and what’s not. And so it is up to us the living to redress the wrongs and rewrite what seemed to be actions and words of the devil, not a loving God and his Apostles. (– Dec 2)
Lou Reed @LouReed
‘Lou Reed’s 1975 album has been called one of the worst albums ever made. The truth is it is the product of genuine love and passion, still exhilarating and bursting with possibility four decades on.’ @MarkRichardson @pitchfork
(Dec 7 2017:)
The Merchant of Shylock Review
Hopefully the next move is the worldwide reform of the banking and monetary policies. Back to nationalism and introvert/yin solutions of growth and equality and prosperity. When globalism (yang) is associated with nationalism and rights are bestowed to all people and all nations with few important strings attached. Give the decisions making and administration running to the patriots and the enlightened and fairest among us. Not the robber barons and their zombie slaves, of yore and present time.
The GOSPEL is ASTROLOGY – MEANING of EACH SIGN in ZODIAC – Signs Part 1
70 GOD’S DIVIDE the EARTH – the MAGIC TREE in the GARDEN – signs Part 2
Robert David Steele – Taking Down the Deep State
PROJECT CAMELOT: A ROTHSCHILD SPEAKS OUT
Louis Farrakhan: An Open Dialog With Alex Jones (Full Interview )
Who were Jason and the Argonauts – SIGNS Part 3
Top Illuminati Grand Wizard: “We Control Islam and We’ll Use It to Destroy the West.” (WW3) — YouTube