I have a Christian friend, who while we are quite far from seeing eye to eye on a multitude of issues, has my respect, because unlike 99% of the fools who call themselves “Christians,” she has actually read the Bible for herself. Regardless of our differences, most of which stem from her literal inference of said book, I do love her. One thing this friend pointed out to me when I told her of my ark project, is of how the Biblical Noah, endured years and years of ridicule while undertaking his project. I guess I should have assumed, that I might suffer same.

In case anyone plans to have a laugh at my expense, and hopes to ridicule this Rebel by coming by the property and photograph me building some type of monstrosity, I’ll save you the trouble. There are many different types of arks out there, some of them metaphoric, and some of unobservable ephemeral energy.

I’ve been saying for a while, that I’ve got some words to share with some idiots who have taken the time to leave incendiary little comments on my blog, and this seems as good a time as any. If Dennis will excuse me then, I’ll have to blow off some steam, and will then move on with the “burning ring” topic, which requires my resonating at a higher frequency. Any turned off by me cursing, feel free to skip this article. Those who like the “angry rebel,” you’re in for a treat.

We’ll call this segment “time out for dumb cunts.” Presenting the first such vacuous hole: some blogger who left a clever little missive a few issues ago implying I was an idiot and he actually had some idea as to what the fuck was going on. Had this “opinion” come from someone in possession of their own brain, it may have bothered me. But, the boy in question, had, by some stretch of the word, “selected,” a V for Vendetta mask icon to represent himself.

Are you fucking kidding me? Among the stupidest of all mother-fuckers on this planet right now, are the guys/girls out there protesting anything while wearing those ridiculous masks. I begrudgingly applaud the Wachowski Brothers for the predictive programming bit of Luciferean edutainment disguised as liberation [note the V's and the incomplete upside-down pentagram, see 07:37 of my last vid]. Also, it should be of interest that the protagonist, “V” was bourne of a fiery hole.

Honestly, I would have preferred the producers of the movie decided to replace the alleged “Guy Fawks” [FOX? 666?] mask with one featuring a rubber phallus attached to the forehead and a prickly scrotum attached to the chin. It might have helped others laugh along with me at the sad joke all these “V” truthers have turned themselves in to. Perhaps, the subterfuge was the whole point. Test? Fail!

I have no idea what the fuck is going on in the above picture, but am rather enamored with the fiery redhead. Anyway, while I will admit guilt to granting this idiot [commenter/blogger] a significant portion of his 15 minutes of fame herein, I will not dignify him with an original response that requires mental effort from myself. Instead, I’ll use someone else’s words, which are extremely fitting:

“If I thought you could find a way
I’d tell you to go get lost
But why ask you to pay attention
When you brain can’t stand the cost?

You oughta scratch from the human race
You are a waste of a name
A waste of time and a waste of space
You’ve only one claim to fame
[and that is] I don’t like you

If a thought came in your head
It’d die of loneliness
You rate absolute zero
No more and not even less”

Those are the words of Stiff Little Fingers, a band from a time before the record industry was completely hijacked by Lucifereans/Dionysians. To add a few more seconds to person in question: “You don’t entertain ideas, you simply bore them.” I recalled that one of the album covers synced with the image of the falling Comedian (from part iii), and hence, came across two others that are pertinent/illuminating.

One reader had asked, “What kind of Ark can withstand fire?” Well, you have your answer about what type of [inflammable] material the ark will be built with. The 9/11 sync, is uncanny [but can actually be put down to coinsyncidence]. As for the ark/arc itself, found an extremely intriguing article from Noel Huntley entitled: The Ark of the Covenant – The Most Fantastic Technology in the Universe?

“Although ‘Arc’ refers to an extremely advanced technology, fundamentally it means the same as ‘arc’ in, for example, arc welding – two terminals at different potential/voltage giving rise to a spark across the gap – an electrical passageway (even so, the original word was ‘Arch’). Thus the Arc of the Covenant is a portal, bridging dimensional frequency bands and locations, somewhat similar to what one might imagine is achieved by the so-called ‘wormholes’ of physics and science fiction. This is one of the Arc’s functions.”

Technology is a form of magick, which is a mental construct. I know the boat is a reactive metaphor, but others have tried such folly, with predictable results.

I guess those who opted to skip this article, will miss out now and I guess I should have also warned off those unsettled by gratuitous nudity. Which reminds me, I attended a local festival a couple of years where, per memory, drunk women freely flash their breasts for beads. As if you hadn’t guessed, I like titties. Anyway, I only stayed for about half-an-hour, because during that period, I witnessed seven fights and three titties (no, not three sets, individual breasts). Oh, the humanity.

Which reminds me: I’ve managed to get this site blocked by a religious internet content filtering service bearing the synchromystic name of “Covenant Eyes.” It happened right after I shared how the heart/valentine symbol is actually a vagina.

The simplistic beauty of arbitrary reason. Sites selling people religious hypocrisy, idolatry, deceit and obedience are approved and even promoted. However, one that tells Romanized Christians to get up off their damn knees and stop praying to Lucifer’s vagina, rid themselves of idols of their tortured savior, and stop the ritualistic acceptance of the cross that is their prison space … can’t have that.

“They tell you not to worry. They say they’re terribly sorry.
But that’s the way it has to be, for the likes of me.
Just be good and know your station, always look on the bright side.
Keep your faith and keep your patience.
Your reward is after you’ve died.”
–Stiff Little Fingers, “Silver Lining”

Wisdom? Verbotten! The whores of degeneration, which are the modern Medes, while devoting copious energy “crafting” brain-washing rubbish, do occasionally, for some reason (which we’ll explore before this is over), feel compelled to share a few seconds of genuine wisdom with us. One such golden nugget dropped during Good Will Hunting. It is the confrontation between Will and the idiot Harvard graduate to be. Will sums up in one elegant sentence exactly why his adversary will never ever amount to anything other than another turd in the human shitpile:

That’s about as honest a “revelation” as one could ever hope for. Regardless of how “far” most rats get in the game, [99.9% of] those who took the golden path (the “higher education” route to riches), will never be anything more than a compilation of the ideas and opinions of their programmers/masters. I’ve had more rewarding conversations with third world peasants than I’ve had with Ivy League grads, Mensa members and others of such ilk who haughtily pass off indoctrination as their intelligence. It’s like conversing with an automated printing machine.

The system has been beautifully architected/crafted. The further “ahead” you get, the more successful you become. The more successful you become, the less and less original you will be. But, why the hell is there fire in this movie poster too? Notice how every W has been converted into a VW/666 symbol? Of particular interest to the Rebel, is the highlighting the words “Rebelle” and “totally rebellious,” and what do they mean by “until it met his match?” Matt “Dæmon?”

I have a statement that I now feel compelled to proclaim: “I AM the Celtic Rebel!” Actually, I kind of enjoyed this movie, and aside from the standard societal conforming memes (which may or may not have been intentional), I think a lot of even the surface story was surprisingly positive. The only thing hurting this movie, was the presence of Ben Afleck. But, it did lead me to recall that he played a rather satanic fire resonant character, Matt Murdock, aka Daredevil.

The most significant aspect of the character, is that even though he is blind, he is more aware of his surroundings than the average rat. Well, I can think of a few significant blind men, starting with the preacher from They Live (expanded on):

In the scene featuring Jordie from Star Trek, his blindness allowed him to see an [illuminating] doorway, that even the best technologically enhanced automaton overlooked. Also worth noting, and of grand significance, is that in The Matrix, Neo was only able to see the “real world” [the matrix beyond the matrix] as it really was, after his adversary removed his eyes. Oh, there was also the prophet from O Brother Where Art Thou [your homework assignment: find more].

In the interim, a new Star Trek has been released, and though it may not be as relevant to this series as Generations, it did prove a point to me; they will spend millions of dollars on a movie, just to get across a few key predictive programming memes. The brain-drain in society is definitely being reflected in Hollywood as a whole. A concise summary of the latest formula: Average Dawson’s Creek Episode + Great Special Effects + Severely Retarded Writers = New Star Trek. {*1}

One example [of the "creativity"]: future Spock comes and tells present Kirk how to assume command of the ship over acting captain present Spock. Got that? It’s the Star Fleet regulation that requires any CO with an emotional connection to the mission step down (Nero, the villain, killed Spock’s Mom). But, barely 30 minutes before, we were shown how Kirk’s dad was killed by same Nero. Is there anyone on this damn ship who Nero hasn’t killed a relative of? Ah, me little cabin boy, Ensign Turd Blossom. Take off your tutu and put on the captain’s hat my laddie!

I should move along, but one more: the older Vulcan boys bullying weakling Spock, to prove he has emotions. Would the fucking retard who wrote this please leave the set? Yea, you sitting there smelling your finger for that lingering feces scent. Ciao! Were Spock so “logical,” he’d have concurred with the boys who called his mother a “whore.” The present-day whorification agenda, is parabolically driving up the percentage of human woman that are whores. Logically, in the next 100 years or so (when this movie is supposed to take place), all Earth women will be whores.

So, yea. They were probably right. Rodenberry’s Spock would have said: “You are correct, but everyone in the quadrant knows that. Why do you think anyone ever goes to that shit-hole of a planet anyway? For the whores. Your logic seems adrift.”

I’m not necessarily claiming the latest offering is worse than priors. The list of priorities for movies have long been: (1) social engineering, (2) predictive programming, (3) marketing, (4) rewarding boy-toys/girl-toys who bent over for, or sucked-off the producers. With rare exception, plot and storyline are usually dead last. Here’s an excellent and quite humorous web page that summarizes the last Star Trek before this (Nemesis, written by same mental deficients, or their clones).

What’s that Pluto? You see some dead penis-shaped flesh you want to consume? Who’s a good little dog/god of wealth and death? Who’s a good little dog/god?

Now, to move on to one truly dumb cunt, who accused me of being “a hypocrite and a liar,” due to my mentioning that I’ve found vegetarian women generally smelled better “down there.” Are you accusing me of lying about my personal experience? The point of that would be to??? Did I touch on sensitive subject? Were you imagining this Rebel might actually one-day pay homage to your foul-smelling hole?

While you may have learned a few big words in your life and garnished the ability to string them together, common sense is obviously not your forté. You put a rotting corpse in one end of your stargate and think that for some reason, despite it decomposing inside your body for a period of 24 to 48 hours at a temperature of 98.6 degrees, the area around your stargate exit will miraculously smell like gardenias? You can’t possibly be that fucking stupid? Well, maybe.

And now I’m going to [try and] stop cursing. I know it’s unbecoming. If everyone could just follow the above wise man’s advice, I won’t have to. As for the latter picture, I found it kind of interesting yet another woman randomly chose to tattoo the extremely bizarre above artwork over her [actual] heart. Plus, it brings us back around to approximately where I left off at the end of last article.

Now to explain my [heightened] aggravation: a weird series of events transpired after I began this series, immediately after I made the discovery about Peter Tosh’s “timely” murder and his words in regards to the vampires and Lucyfer [part ii]. Within minutes of my contemplating possible implications and connections … BLIP .. my computer shut off, yet the UPS/Voltage Regulator was unaffected. Odd, but nothing to contact Ghost Hunters about.

I then hosted a dinner party, and in the middle of it, for lack of better words, my mind left me. I could not process thoughts and short term memory was failing me. For example: I’d start carrying the tray to the grill, stop mid-tracks, then ask, “Where was I going?” I’d ask someone if they wanted something (e.g., a drink), then go off to get it and then turn around and ask them the same question again. I may be somewhat absent minded, but this was on a whole new level [plus, I have witnesses]. Some kind of psychic attack was under way. A gypsy cure, which I’ll not mention, helped secure my mind and bring the attack to an end.

Later that same night, I went up to my “hang-out,” and while my person was secure / protected, another weird event occurred as I left to return home. I tried to start my car, and it wouldn’t. The lights flashed on and off, and the stereo alternated between loud and dead, but the ignition wouldn’t turn over. “Enough of this nonsense,” I shouted. “I WILL not permit it.” The car then began sans the silliness.

One of the possible reasons a lot of people never heard of Peter Tosh, is that one of the adversary’s minions was sent to interfere with his career. That minion would be, the queen’s lap-dog Sir Micky Jagger. Another old song comes to mind, a subliminal syncromystic clue that light is not always a positive force:

“The stars are not as bright as they would seem
From a distance, the reflection is lighting up the screen.
The stars are not as bright as yesterday,
And yes it seems that every time, the light gets in the way.”
–The Long Ryders, “The Light Gets in the Way”

Some sunglasses may be in order. Tosh’s thoughts on Mick(aEl) undercutting him:

“He felt that, for reasons unknown to him, his records were under-promoted and poorly marketed. Many of Tosh’s critics felt that the work he did with The Rolling Stones was the worst of his career.”

Another minion may have been sent my way. One morning/afternoon, I was entreated to a dream visit by one half-naked Britney Spears. What’s odd about this? I never cared for her music, and am quite unfamiliar with her, save the occasional song I’m enforced to endure at a club, most of which I could not name by title. Honestly, I’ve never really even found her all that attractive, nor wank-worthy.

But, here she was in my dream, saying ALL the right words that I my ego needed to hear. I was on top of her and about to shag her. Coitus interruptus. Some child outside [either real or imaginary] shouting, demanding my attention. The dream faded away. Vile union incomplete. Was the child an angel? From what I understand, Britney may have Herpes. Eek! I don’t think I’d even want dream herpes.

Speaking of Herpes, while watching Arc from Synchromystics Forum video about Paris Hilton, I learned she also has Herpes [btw: his video is amazing, more eyes definitely need to take it in]. From there I discovered a hole slew of celebs who’ve given “the gift” to each other, including primary carrier Derek Jeter. While Hilton’s underwear-devouring mound [below] may look tempting, it’s prob’ly best avoided.

Second, does anyone reading this actually believe that Herpes is incurable? If you do, it’s because you either, (a) don’t “think,” or (b) are just a complete idiot. There’s definitely a cure. But, why sell someone a $100 cure, when you can make customers for life out of them (giving them daily pills that have little effect, but some “lucrative” side effects). It’s just business. You can bet Prince William [who I may or may not expand on one day, in relation to "the ring"] has been cured.

As for Paris, the reason she is taking Valtrex is cause the whore spreading the disease to other celebrities and the brainless fans who then spread their legs for them is far too value to the pharmaceutical powers that be. So sorry, Paris! {*2}

Switching from negative to positive, not all energy and beings sent in my direction has/have been malevolent. On another night/morning, I was entreated to an extended period, a waking dream, where I floated between the two realms on either side of the veil. Some wonderful female entity came to me and showed me how to focus using my third eye (instead of trying to visualize with the material ones).

Looking at Arc’s video, and considering the implication that in Hilton’s only significant Hollywood role to date, she was literally impaled through the third eye, would seem to make a little too much sense. The material princess, for the material world, condemned to rule in this world, would have little need for that third eye. Back to the blind(ed) people mentioned earlier, the one thing they all had in common, is the ability to see, after their material eyes were taken from them.

They [the eyes] can be a distraction. It’s so hard to see truth in this specturm of visible light, and all so easy to be distracted by the harlot in red. I’ve also seen my own magic ring uncanny in this period. The circuitous inexplicable route I took from Téa Leoni to “I Alone” [explained in part iii] was one of those “things.”

How many times had I heard the song in the past? Like every other idiot out there, I thought it was about “love,” and sang along, but just the lines applicable to me, just like all duMbASSES. Johnny Lydon now screams, “This is not a love song!” Is “Live” aware, programmed, or as clueless to their role at the rest of us?

I’m not sure what to make of it. At one time, many thought that I was the devil. My mind, after viewing this, went from Live to Blind (a great rock band from Estonia I used to hang out with), and a song they had which reminded me of girl from uni named Scarlet. She was as lovely as she was stupid, and convinced I was the devil.

Scarlett Johansson also comes up cause (a) of the obvious, (b) she co-starred in If Lucy Fell (1996) [part iv], (c) she too has Herpes, and (d) her name syncs with the woman in red. From there I found an image of the “next” Peter Pan, which shows us that dimensional rift again. I am gowning convinced that such a thing is either coming, or already happening. Yea, I know, this is going all over the place. {*3}

As for my Scarlet, she may be one of the few girls in my life I regret not shagging. But, I can only blame myself. When God-fearing Bible-belt born/bred Scarlett, asked me in her cute Southern drawl, what my nick-name stood for, I told her it was short for “Bielzebubba.” I thought she was just “flirting” when she’d run away from me.

Her roommates confronted me and told to please “stop making the evil laugh” around her, cause “she actually believed I was the devil.” I was hosting regular parties that summer, and they were tired of missing them. Occasionally, Charlotte would turn ghostly white as they approached my house and would scream murder.

But, everything happens for a reason. One possible outcome of our infernal coupling, could have been my making the evil laugh while she was orgasming, and then, in deep baritone, adding, “And now your soul is mine.” I was a bit more evil in those days, and that would have most likely resulted in her spending the rest of her life in an asylum somewhere. On the other hand, my synchromystic crystal ball may be telling me she’d have given me Herpes. Another regret now gone. Am I the devil? We’ll have to explore the notion before this is over.

A couple of hours before I released part iv [which I feel, reveals Lucifer], I got bit by, off all creatures, some brightly colored fly. By publication time, my entire left hand had swollen to the point where typing was impossible. I looked up the creature online, and learned I was bitten by a female yellow fly. Argh! Thank you Lucy!

I’m not one to give up., but I do find myself asking myself once again, “Why am I doing this?” Or, more so, who am I doing this for? I already said that I’d given up on humanity. As if I needed another reason, this past weekend I went out and saw two guys get in a fight over Michael Jackson. Over Michael Fucking Jackson!

What is the point of trying to uplift humanity if it doesn’t want to be lifted? They are content in input/output mode of breads and circuses, hooking themselves up to the grid to receive whatever new programming the social engineers decide on and then acting out that program, in other words, “expressing themselves.” Is there a point in trying to stop mankind’s voluntary march charge into the fire?

I’m not trying to fearmonger, but WWIII does seem to be an awaiting anvil for forging this new society. It is part of the grand plan. Next year, a Pentagon-funded recruiting movie from Hell is coming out, The Expendables. It features every male role model you could imagine (i.e., expendable stars) and they’re even dusting off Arnold Schwarzefucker for it. A winged-disc skull? An orgy of blood awaits!

Those holding out hope mankind will somehow resist the propaganda to kill their brethren this time around are fooling yourselves. If they can get people fighting over Michael Fucking Jackson, how hard will it be to get them brutalizing [insert ethnic slang of choice here]. Hell, I’ve even heard some idiots bad-mouthing “those damn Venezuelans!” This coming from same guys who wouldn’t know a Venezuelan if one stuck his cock up their ass. Yeah, I’m cursing again. I’m pissed off, OK?

Based on the number of articles flooding the mainstream, the alternative media, and even the synchrosphere on Michael Jackson alone, I can only surmise even many of us who think we’re above someone else are just fighting over scraps. The blatant programming of duMbASSES is far less destructive than the agenda-serving nuggets slipped to the intelligentsia. First, it was Charles Dickens, via Tale of Two Cities, telling us: “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few,” words spoken by a “noble” hero willing to sacrifice himself for the “greater good.”

Then, in the best Star Trek ever, we received a slightly modified version via the Qabbalist Leonard Nimoy. Why is Kirk so damn focused on the Luciferean V that Spock is making in his moment of self-sacrifice, instead of the eyes of his dying comrade? Oh, no! Fuck that! Fuck “the many!” What is the point of losing even one “unique” expressive individual to save a bunch of media-programmed replicants?

The time for the self-sacrfice of great men and women has come to an end. Better to lose several million zombies I say, than even a handful of thinking feeling individuals. Screw that programming. screw it right up its sanctimonious ass!

I recall a pivotal plot scene in another movie featuring a man, who [coincidentally] could not see so well in the light, but could see with great clarity in complete darkness (Pitch Black). The co-star of this movie, Radha Mitchell, was confronted by the protagonist at the end, “Will you die for them?” This was her moment of Catharsis ["cleansing through fire"]. This was her Jesus moment; where she would elevate her status [for audience] by sacrificing herself for weaker underlings. {*4}

I won’t. It’s gone long past the tribal obligation of the strong protecting the weak. It’s about sacrificing the strong to protect those who’d commit suicide if Hannah Montana came on TV and said, “It’s like really neat and stuff.” Am I guilty of underestimating man? I can sum that up in three words: Michael Fucking Jackson!

As I said in my last series of some consequence, those hoping to uplift all of humanity and save mankind, are fighting a lost cause. I’ll admit the architects of the system have a far better understanding of gravity than those of us foolishly struggling to hoist all of humanity up on our shoulders. Common sense dictates such efforts are in vain. You can not lift up one who has no desire to be lifted.

Why combat free will? Why combat gravity? The below scene is from Logan’s Run, where those who’ve outlived their usefulness to society, don their flame-resonant garb and sacrifice themselves for cheering brethren. Given more time, I’d have inter-cut image against the recent MJ Memorial Service in Los Angeles. Were they to blow up the volunteers/fools in latter audience, I’d pay good money to see it.

Am I starting to sound like one of “them?” Well, on this issue, “they” are correct. Michael Jackson, who’s greatest contribution to mankind was being a primal force in the worldwide consolidation of the music industry. is finally dead. He was no Ian Curtis [and neither was Ian]. If I’ve offended anyone, let me ask you a question: “Did you know him personally?” No? Well, shut the fuck up then.

If, like the 12 idiots who’ve offed themselves, your outlook on life is based on the veneration of “personas” in the field of entertainment, well good luck to you … the Carousel awaits. When I saw the lines of people camped out along Princess Di’s funeral route, I wondered, “How many of those same fuckers, had missed funerals of their own relatives, cause of work, distance, or other rationalization?” Renew!

The pyramidal chart I found/modified is based on one expounding the horrors of “capitalism.” Dialectically impaired fools might reason the model for any form of socialism might look somewhat different. How does changing the outfits of some of the stick figures change anything? But for me, the most significant detail of all such structures, is whatever entity is at the top of the pyramid is detached and not of this world/plane. If you’ll recall, J.R.R. Tolkien’s Sauron while exerting great control, influence and vigilance (through his one eye, perhaps his third eye) on the affairs of Middle Earth, resided on some dimension outside it.

So, who is this “sacrifice” for? We hear stories of how back in the Mayan days, it was considered a great honor to be selected for ritual sacrifice. Yeah? Considered so by whom? The brainwashed peasants? The duMbASSES? I can guarantee you the elite nobility and priest class didn’t queue up for the “privilege.”

The people who are on top, say that you should keep your chin up
And they are keen to show you, the unhappy ones below you
But I want no more of that stuff, that’s looking at it upside down
–Stiff Little Fingers, “Silver Lining”

Back the Wrath of Cohen, thanks to Michael Tsarion, I was able to see a similarity of colors between the “good” crew of the Enterprise and other fascist regimes of note. That is a very specific red: blood red. Note the blood on Kirk’s shirt.

The scene involves a young awkward “trainee” [¿a virgin?], who “stayed at his post,” while explosions and fire raged around him … unlike the other “not so brave” individuals in engineering, who said “screw this shit, I’m saving my own ass.” The young boy dies. Scotty cries. As Kirk leaves the infirmary, we’re treated to the fire-resonating sign of where the virgin died [Cool! Sick Bay picks up YouTube!].

By chance, while trying to find the image from the movie, I came upon the below old movie poster ["filmed in blazing tropicolor"]. That synced with an image my memory couldn’t recall, but I figured must have been in my article about human sacrifice patterns over the years. Wow! Another exact match. Oh how they twist and turn the minds of us fools. Oh, the “glory” of dying for your [true] master! The middle poster makes “who” clear: dead between the V as the bloody sun sets.

To all those brave souls, who refused to serve in all the great wars, I salute you! I can imagine it must have been pretty hard to be an “able-bodied” man anywhere during WWII and show your face publicly, had you not “volunteered” to kill and maim your brothers in some far off land, for the benefit of your masters. Come kill and die for Queen and CUNT(Re:) … the nobility and the priest class need not apply.

Anyway, I’m just making a point. I’m not giving up on the ark. It ain’t for everyone. But, I’ve got the sneaking feeling that whatever adversarial forces are maligned against me, are now attempting to manipulate this effort by producing items leading to muddy rabbit holes of little significance. That tactic, I know of no gypsy cure for and am presently a little overwhelmed to put this jigsaw together.

Back to the positive again, I got a love note of my own from one of the writers on South Park [it's at the end, when the aliens quarantine the Earth, to prevent its idiocy from infecting the universe]. {*5} I did say the Medes were responding to us didn’t I? Even though they didn’t get it quite right, I appreciate the gesture. I also appreciate the solar harvest corn sync to Cage’s Wicker Man.

Said episode (Pinewood Derby) was a surprisingly honest reflection of humanity’s gullibility and ego-driven folly. As an added bonus, the same week, through sheer coincidence (as far as idiots are concerned), General Motors also launched their Nationwide “Pinewood Derby” commercial, proving my thesis that (a) the Medes work in unison, and (b) those who think otherwise are [being made] fools [of].

Another point the “creators” either missed (or intentionally de/re-flected), was that, the box itself (more accurately, the act of confining ourselves to the box) is not an external construct. Ultimately, it is one that we willingly and eagerly throw ourselves headlong into. As for the “grid” outside the box, I believe such a structure is (a) spherical, and (b) of external scheme. The latter is what my ark will seek to demolish or somehow slip/bridge/arc through.

The South Park episode which came up in part iv, on the other hand, didn’t sit so well with me. I couldn’t quite place my thumb on why, but it had something to do with the number of times they stressed/emphasized the JB concert being in “3D.”

Since then, someone commented on an old article (appropriately entitled, A Match Made in Hell), and I took the time to reread it. While I do make a genuine effort to not let my ego suggest I’m the only one capable of stringing certain ideas together, I do ask you to tell me, should one read said [August 2008] article prior to viewing said episode, they wouldn’t find the confluence of themes highly suspicious.

I know some of my fellow bloggers have seen their ideas borrowed (sans credit), if not outright pilfered. Still, a mention or credit would have been preferable to South Park “paying tribute” to the Celtic Rebel [as one commenter said in some forum, to the chagrin of the show's legion of "fanboys:" "South Park pays tribute/steals ideas quite a lot"]. Considering the kind of mullah the show rakes in. I’d have preferred they stick to the archaic definition of paying “tribute,” hence receiving a check.

For what it’s worth, said episode is entitled, “The Ring.” Note the odd “Jonas Brothers Burn Me Up” sign made it into yet another shot. The above [left] scene is from where the Brothers play fireman and take out their firehoses; to spray down their [prepubescent] fans with their hot sticky fun foam. I’d give kudos to South Park for the “advisement,” but today’s parents are so fucking stupid, they’re beyond reach of “advice” … oh, is there really a point to covering this topic again?

I was tired of the mental combat and exhaustion brought on by this series, so broke it up with a few side ventures into easier arenas (e.g., the Sex and the Shitty series took little time/mental effort). Afterward, I found myself pondering whether I really even wanted to step back into The Burning Ring. I had also decided to the ennui of my present life was resulting from having settled into too much of a routine.

That same night, I received a random call from a rather insane character I do my best to avoid, asking me to join him at some remote hillbilly “bikini bar.” Well, I couldn’t exactly say “no,” could I? The synchronicity began to flow. As I was pulling up, a fire-resonant song off an old Paul Kelly CD I grabbed on the way out came on [which I'll close with]. I walked into the bar, and my friend was standing in the middle of a checkerboard floor singing Karaoke. The lyrics caught my attention:

Well they call me the fireman that’s my name
Makin’ my rounds all over town puttin’ out old flames
Well everybody likes to have what I got I can cool ‘em down when smolderin’ hot

Last night they had a bad one a mile or two down the road
Well my buddy walked out and left this woman burnin’ out of control
Well I was down there in bout an hour or so
With a little mouth to mouth she was ready to go

I work twenty-four on, and twenty-four off
When they get too hot, they just give me a call
They call me the fireman, that’s my name
–George Strait, “The Fireman”

I guess it [the universe] was telling me it was time to get back into The Ring. I foolishly contemplated running away from all of this, a Charles Schulz mental imprint saying, “There is no problem so big it cannot be run away from.”

The Paul Kelly song brought up the above memory, which grows hazier as the days, months and years pass. Is Shangri-La still there and is the above creature still awaiting my return? “Oh minha garotinha. Tem que entender, meu coração já quebrou um milhão vezes. Eu vou voltar uma dia. Mas, não posso ainda.” And, I’m not even quite sure what the repeating chorus of the song that sent me imply:

“Oh, my angel, I’m carrying the can
Oh my angel, you’re pouring petrol on a burning man”

To be continued. We’ll finally get back to Cage, Knowing, Lucyfür, and a bunch of other smoldering embers…

*1: I originally created this image the day after the movie came out, and had called it “Dawson’s Creek [in space].” Since then, Secret Sun put out an article called “Dawson’s Trek,” and I like that title better. Surprisingly, I found a “Dawson’s Creek” font with little effort. I’d also like to thank Josh Reeves for introducing me to the works of Noel Huntley, which came along at just the right time in my personal quest. [LB]

*2: Many years ago, there was an amazing fever blister/cold sore cure I picked up at a Southern Alabama town drug store, that worked miraculously (though, looking back “miraculous” means “as one should expect.”) The main drug stores, i.e., pharmaceutical outlets, didn’t carry it. Over the years, the product became harder and harder to find, then Colgate-Palmolive bought it out. First, they diluted it and eventually, they took it off the market. That’s just the way [modern] medicine works. [LB]

*3: Peter Pan in Scarlet is the follow-up to [note initials] JM Barrie’s “original.” It was put out by the highly suspect Oxford University [Disinfo] Press [I wouldn't trust a single word that came out of that organization.], but I’m staying out of that rabbit hole. Of course, it syncs us to the one-gloved child-lover, which led to and article by Time [another disinfo source] Magazine’s “Michael Jackson: The Death of Peter Pan,” which chose to picture him at age 13. [LB]

*4: I’m trying to stay out of Radha’s rabbit hole [not pictured], but her resume seems to be a synchromystic treasure trove. I feel my image tells enough of a story, but she would make a good article should anyone want to probe her. The few movies I picked out contain: two fire references, two V images [one with teeth], a hard to see cream “heart” in a coffee cup, and an ooh, Neverland/Lucifer’s Rainbow reference. She played the “Queen of Hearts” in one role, and I had to laugh, cause I found the pictured clip online (solely, out of curiosity, of course), and the image is taken right after she’s slapped some guy for calling her a “cunt.” [LB]

*5: In the middle of this series, a friend passed along a six hour lecture from a woman named Ashayana Deane (The Phantom Matrix). Some of what she talked about seemed “out there,” and then she mentioned how a “fractal fence” was being built around us. My sis, who’s visiting, mentioned the patterns in South Park’s “cube” reminded her of chem-trails. Are the chemtrails [also] being used to create an energy barrier within the ephemeral one? I have no f’n idea. [LB]

Does it seem strange to you how many famous actors have died recently? Did it strike you as particularly unusual that a perfectly healthy 97 year old Karl Maulden just dropped dead in the middle of the day? Well, if these events appeared even slightly suspicious to you, your internal hunches were most likely correct.

According to recently declassified FSB (formerly, the KGB) internal memorandum, several high-profile Hollywood actors have been listed as “persons of interest” in an ongoing cold war, that despite the mainstream medias cover-up to the contrary, to this day has not ended. Former KGB Agent Yuri Tietkantcheko, under a confidential interview protecting his anonymity told sources:

“You have no idea what’s going on right now. The CIA has long been using actors to further its aims. We in turn, back in my time, began recruiting actors out of Australia, and trained them to speak proper Yankee English since their youth. I’m not going to name any names, but did you see Braveheart? That was a really good movie.”

Per documents obtained by Tietkantcheko at great personal risk to himself, David Carradine had been a longtime FSB asset, suppressed for a good part of his career by Mossad/CIA interests. Once he was “trusted,” Carradine was promoted to the next stage starring alongside longtime Mossad asset, Quentin Tarantino. Through this cooperation, Carradine learned the CIA was using the Triads to distribute mind-control drug variants of heroin into China, and then into Russia via Mongolia.

On June 4, 2009, Carradine went to Bangkok to meet with Benjamin Fulford, fearing these drugs would also be used by the forces behind the New World Order, to then be distributed on to American markets, as an ingredient for Gerber’s “Dark-Baby” Formula. Unfortunately for Carradine, the Triads got to him just before Fulford’s crack Ninjas were able to arrive on the scene and protect him.

Michael Jackson, another celebrity who unwittingly was used as a dupe of Illuminati interests, was going to go public on June 28th, at a press conference in London. However, due to the diligent work of former MI6 top news disseminatress Sorcha Faal, it has been revealed that the CIA used top-secret military death-ray satellite technology to prevent that from ever happening. Tietkantcheko adds:

“These things always happen in waves. An asset is exposed and then extraordinarily renditioned to some secret prison. After a few weeks of drugs, beatings, bad music and sodomy, they inevitably reveal the names of all the other agents in their cells. The media puts out a story like ‘Brad Pitt takes extended leave from Angelina Jolie. Are they on the outs?” But we, those on the inside, know what’s going on behind the scenes?

It’s easy to throw out words like ‘coincidence,’ isn’t it? Farrah Fawcett, she was part of the cell. The CIA has long used a fast-acting breast-cancer accelerator. Autopsies can’t trace it. Billy Mays, he was a friend of mine. How else do you think he “suddenly” came up with a formula to make your clothes extra white? It took KGB scientists years to refine the technology.

And Ed McMahon? He had a good hearty laugh. I thought he’d get caught years ago. Anyone from Russia knows, only a Cossack laughs like that. But, Americans, they’re too stupid and trusting. That’s why, even though I’m no longer involved, believe America will lose the cold war.”

Is there any hope for America? According to some confidential sources inside the Pentagon, a grassroots movement is being funded and through controlled outlets, and spreading across the country; focusing on the areas of “patriotism,” “the constitution,” and the hidden secret that “911 was an inside job.”

A well-known alternative talk-show host associated with this movement, spoke to us on the condition of complete anonymity:

“This is a red level alert! But, there are a lot of celebrities out there who are waking up to this. And, I don’t want to name names, or betray someone’s confidence, but I know the biggest, well, second biggest actor in Hollywood right now, and he’s fully aware of what’s going on with all the New World Order. Have you seen Die Hard? That’s a really good movie.”

“By the way, you really need to protect your family. We’re gonna be having a special on the Royal English Sovereign coins next week, and you can buy those through us for below spot price.”

Tietkantcheko, however, paints quite the opposite picture.

“We send Michael Gorbachev, the same president who allegedly broke up the Soviet Union to America, and he gets an office at the top-secret Presidio military base in San Francisco and nobody asks any questions. In the middle of all these other deaths, Karl Maulden, a perfectly healthy 97 year old man who starred in the Streets of San Francisco, suddenly drops dead, and nobody asks any questions? When are they going to ask questions?”

But, even he [Tietkantcheko], admits that you can’t count out the new DoD splinter-group patriot plan to embed patriot-minded actors in the limelight. “Ironically, it’s about hearts and minds,” he adds. Three brave new young stars, possibly one of the early outgrowths of this plan, have made a bold step-forward:

Montag and Pratt, appeared on the Alex Jones Infowars radio program this past week, endangering their own lives, and that of close associates in the process. One of these associates, Miley Cyrus, even twittered on, to her fanbase of millions:

“OMG! Like what’s infowars? Down with the New World Order! Lol! My dad just came in my room and he’s totally laughing at me, cause i’m like wearing a sweater and no panties and it’s like 250 degrees outside. Do I look fat in this?”

In this writer’s humble opinion, there is hope for the USA, and perhaps even the world. All it takes is a little spark. Within hours of Miley Cyrus’s infamous Twitter posting, her top rival Selena Gomez was twittering to her fanbase:

“Oh no you didn’t! If Miley’s like gonna kill the Rockerfellows, me and Demi LeVato are gonna like kill the Rothchildren and stuff. 911 was like a total inside job. And Miley’s like gross and old and stuff. Love you Nick Jonas!”

Is Yuri Tietkantcheko’s vision of a 1984-like future for America a predestined fact, or will the new young patriots, taking great personal risk to themselves and their families after the recent spate of celebrity homicides, overcome the odds?

A little incredulous to Yuri’s phenomenal story, this writer, prior to our crack staff fully vetting the story and confirming Yuri’s background and the authenticity of the documents, tried to gauge for myself if Yuri was literally pulling my chain. I asked, “Farrah Fawcett, really?” Yuri, polishing off the 12th bottle of Stolichnaya Premium we purchased him as a condition of this interview, responded:

“”Oh, I will miss Farrah. She had nipples like is Siberian winter all summer long. But, seriously … we send Farrah to America to find out how to build Six Million Dollar Man. Because, in Soviet Russia, six million dollar man build you.”

And with that, he let out a hearty laugh, that to our ears, sounded eerily like Ed Mcmahon’s. Perhaps Tietkantcheko was right? Only time will tell.

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* SOURCE: E’tou Mentiroso, staff writer, © Reueters/Rothschild News Services

They say that “in the land of the blind, the one-eyed [wo]man is queen.” I know there’s other interpretations for the cover of the propaganda vehicle that tried all so hard to paint the reigning regent as human, but only the blindest of subjects fell for that nonsense. Can’t say I agree with Icke, but “human” does seem a stretch.

I also can’t say I “hate” the Queen anymore. She too, like me, is just doing her job. I’d once have looked at the above [center] image and said “dumb cunt,” but the regent’s job is to serve her master, and her mysterious master, wants mankind to wear the dead skins of tortured animals. He/she [or "schlee" ] requires that humans via their “free will,” karmically reap negative energies upon themselves.

So, yea, fools who see above and mimic, while remaining insensitive and cruel, will deserve all the horrors this new dystopia, this new world order system they are ignorantly [yet willingly] bringing down upon their families. Every bit of it. If you keep shitting in the middle of your own house, one day, sooner or later, you’ll no longer be able to avoid the smell. Now, it’s time for a story:

1999 [which came up recently], was a very interesting and significant synchroyear. In particular, as far as this side-track (deviant to the Rebel Path), the year relates to the phrase “Loose Change.” First, I’d like to say, that “this song is not a [usual] rebel song,” and even more importantly, what follows is not a “hit-piece.”

The reason this was written, is because of the unavoidable: as the number of [loose] connections approaches infinity, the chance of coincidence approaches zero.

Back when Atlantean Times was still writing, he stumbled across a rather relevant sync, in regards to the 911 Loose Change “phenomenon.” Look at the above picture of the now famous “truth-seeking” trio, while reading the below:

Loose Change (1999): “The salesman, the criminal and the mama’s boy; for Dean, Jake and Tommy times are tough, jobs are scarce and the money is tight. Three friends living in an ordinary town with ordinary lives have an extraordinary idea only it’s the most ridiculous thing they have ever attempted. With Dean’s exceptional skills of persuasion, and the help of Jake’s criminally eccentric partners, Lendo and Cornelius, they decide to change the rules of opportunity with the possibility of riches in the most unexpected of places.”

It does force one to reflect. Contrasting this with the official story of how the later “Loose Change” exposition film(s) came to be, was enough for Atlantean Times to conclude Dylan Avery & Company are frauds. This Rebel, as implied earlier, needs more than just one uncanny yet amazing sync to formulate a thesis.

Returning to the year 1999, resulted in my finding a hell of a lot more syncs, related in more ways I could have ever imagined. Here’s but one:

Formed in 1999, Loose Change is a San Francisco based dance company that draws its artistic inspiration from a variety of different forms of movement including hip hop, martial arts, lindy hop, tap, b-boying, african and modern.

In addition to highlighting and melding these unique styles of dance the group aims to use its work to inspire and provoke as well as entertain.

That same year, Taylor Steele released his own version of Loose Change, described as: “The surfing world is due for a change, but can this be it? The Taylor Steele film to end all Taylor Steele films.” Yes, things are going to get a whole lot weirder.

Little known folk singer Terri Allard also put out her Loose Change and Spare Parts album, in 1999. Those of you who’ve been following my Lucifer/Virgin Mary/666 series, take note: she’s from cHARLOTtesville, VIRGINia, a graduate of ORANGE county high (and obviously not connected: she fears “global warming”).

There’s also an unaffiliated small-time film production company called Loose Change Entertainment LLC, based in Michigan. Scant info, other than their website and various cross-references, is available for this maker of such “classics” as Weenie Roast Massacre, yet most of their copyrights commence on 1999.

The above painting, “Tenderness, When Some Loose Change Might Buy Some,” by Andre Van Der Kerkhoff, would appear completely unrelated. The cover story: a prostitute’s leg tempts a lonely walker. Even odder when considering the “truth movement:” the promo of, “This disturbing limited edition giclée presents what the audience can infer to be the moments before a small man walking into his own shadow engages a prostitute.” The unintentional underlying sync: the red white & blue whore of patriotism, used to lure those right-wing elements who fear a socialist government takeover and the erosion of civil liberties out into the open?

That sounds exactly like what the FBI’s Project Meggido (1999) was set up for. I’m not necessarily claiming that Alex Jones is a willing participant in such a project, but speaking of “Partying Like it’s 1999,” those who may be unfamiliar, should take a view/listen of how Jones, the Patriot, was doing so on his December 31, 1999 “red-level alert” Y2K emergency broadcast [Bill Cooper's exposé].

A lot of this “truth movement” does seem like it too, is staged. Once you get past the Republican/Democrat Labour/Conservative Coke/Pepsi Blood/Crip paradigm, you may find several convenient fine-tuned dialectic layers/buckets awaiting you.

Speaking of there’s the trio of “official” conspiracy debunkers that were getting matched up with the Loose Change people’s trio for a while there. Those would be the following stooges: Davin Coburn, James Meigs, and Matt Taibbi. The debates made for good theater: buffoons on one side challenging buffoons on the other. I know that probably irks a few people, but should one hear Korey Rowe let certified mental deficients Opie and Anthony get the best of him [a sad segment], you have to wonder [why he didn't tell them to "suck his nuts" - I would have].

I can’t help but notice a commonality in the three guys pictured above, as if they either go to the same barber, or more likely, joined the same “agency” early on in their independent careers. “Something” is definitely making a certain radar of mine scream “red level alert.” I can’t say, sans proof (for fear of libel), one way or another. The only way to tell for sure is to let each one of the above guys play with the below “action figure” for a few minutes, then gauge their “response” to it.

By the way, as I’ve stated before, the above action figure is of “heterosexual” top-grossing Gay Porn star Jeff Stryker. Ah yes, of course. He is “straight.” He has a wife. He only does it for the money. So, get over it, you homophobe!

In a completely unrelated matter, Jon Stewart, doing his job, is getting rather bold announcing the new reality his listeners will be facing. It’s so funny. Laugh about it.

I know there are many other idiots on both sides, but won’t waste my time calling them out. As I’ve been saying, I’m concluding anyone dumb enough, to even after all this time, still believe in the “official” Osama Ali Baba and the Magnificent 19 Carpet Riders theory, really doesn’t “deserve” to know anything better. I’m guessing there’s still too many an American fools who does, as even known “spook” George Noory recently said he “is starting to question” the story (hence, he was given the green light to inform his millions of listeners for them to also).

Regardless of how stupid one is, be assured there’s a program out there which appeals to their all-important sense of how smart they are, and how dumb everyone else is [as was the case in Ideocracy: vid project begun]. For some, the Easter Bunny/Al Qaeda alliance [MP3] is good enough. Those who like to keep an open mind, might want to consider the following statement from the above bogeyman:

Obama bin Laden on October 16, 2001: “I was not involved in the September 11 attacks in the United States nor did I have knowledge of the attacks. There exists a government within a government within the United States. The United States should try to trace the perpetrators of these attacks within itself; to the people who want to make the present century a century of conflict between Islam and Christianity. That secret government must be asked as to who carried out the attacks. … The American system is totally in control of the Jews, whose first priority is Israel, not the United States.”

While Osama’s words may be far more honest than any you’ll ever hear on CnnFoxMsNbc, it would be wise to remember that he too, has been a longtime CIA asset. It’s all rigged. Adults who know pro wrestling is fixed laugh at children who think it’s real. Those who “know” 911 was an “inside job” laugh at those who believe the Osama/Bunny narrative. Those who “know” it was executed by Israel, or the Freemasons, or the Vatican, mock the ones who blame “the government.”

The above scenes are from a site advertising itself as “the best non-scripted competitive nude wrestling on the internet.” I see little intellectual difference between its fans and those who participated in the political process we called the McCain/Obama election. Well, except that one girl is clearly using an illegal hold. Where’s the damn ref? That’s an illegal hold man! Oh man, are you blind?

Argh! This is so going to suck now. The girls with the orange arm-bands represent my hometown/values and them losing/winning will like totally ruin my day/life. Didn’t Huxley speak of enslaving the unwashed duMbASSES via a steady stream of “new drugs, bread and circuses.” Oh, how little things have changed.

Back to Loose Change (1999), another striking commonality, per IMDB, was that it was the first film of everyone involved in the project. A few of the participants moved on to bigger/better things, the most interesting of would be Kate Hewlett, who ended up as a regular on Stargate Atlantis, alongside her brother David.

I took more interest in some Canadian television production called 11 Cameras, of which 22 episodes were filmed. Those who’ve been following my most recent series, may find it of interest her brother calls her “Dracula.” The only other thing that stood out, for me, was that far too many photos were emphasizing her mouth.

The above image is from her “unoffical” fan-site. The below, is from her “official” one. How many fan[atics] does this girl have? Does it mean anything? Well, as this Rebel’s said, the path to stardom usually requires practicing a very specific talent.

Um Kate, I can’t promise you fame, but I’d like to inform you the line to fellate this Rebel is a lot shorter one than the one to beat me up (your urge after reading this).

Oddly, Kate’s official “fan-site”, while listing a few projects not on IMDB, fails to mention the Loose Change movie. I”m not saying it’s a red flag, just part of this odd picture as I tried to figure out what role the Loose Change trio of Avery, Rowe and Bermas are playing in the big picture, and just how “scripted” that role is.

I too would like to believe these three young men, against all odds, exposed the “greatest conspiracy ever,” but it does seem a little far-fetched, no? Yet, a bunch of loose connections on their own, while good enough for me, may not satisfy those still unconvinced synchronicity is the devil’s blow-torch. Perhaps, if we give the boys enough rope, they’ll hang/expose themselves? Well, Jason Bermas, aka “the info warrior,” has done it already. On 04/13/09, Jason gets a phone call asking about Jewish domination of Hollywood. Here’s the comedy of errors that follows:

The Phone Call: Jason makes an absolute idiot of himself {*1}
The Response: both Alex Jones and Bermas piss themselves

The caller raised a valid point. Should any outside ethnic group achieve as much domination of any nation’s number one propaganda tool, it should not only be politically correct to question, but one’s civic duty to raise the alarm (particularly, a group with a racist ideology, and one indoctrinated, via “nazi youth” methods, with the belief another country is more important than their home). Imagine if a group of relative size, such as the Polynesians, gained the same amount of infiltration. Would it be taboo [or a capital offense], just to raise the question? {*2}

To deny it, and spin the question as Bermas did, aside from being crass, is extremely suspicious. Note how Jason also drags “blacks” into it. So, anyone who criticizes the world’s most racist apartheid state (of which many of the moguls of entertainment are citizens of) is a racist? Jason, you are a fraud!

Oddly, this incident, and my realization that the Loose Change boys have been scripted, reminded me of the South Park 911 episode. At one time, in my own ignorance, I failed to appreciate the depths it reached. So, with new eyes:

Anyone who read Truther Thoughts‘ “South Park Archetype Revelation” article, consider yourself fortunate. For those who didn’t, per the unavailable article, the four main characters represent the world’s major power factions: Kyle represents the Jews/Zionists, Cartman the Fascists/Oligarchs, Stan the Freemasons and Kenny the Buddhist/Eastern set. At first, I thought his summation quite funny, yet somewhat preposterous. As time goes by, I see only more and more support for it.

The above in mind, it was rather amusing to see the episode begin with the Israeli faction the most adamant to deny there was more to 911 than the public was told.

Cartman sets off to prove him wrong and “expose” who was behind 911. The highlighted line [above left] from the song playing during the montage was obviously quite intentional. The most revealing picture is the subsequent one. Very subtly, it tells us that the Fascist/Neocon Cartman may be working for Rome.

As Truther Thoughts pointed out, Cartman, aside from his various fascist outfits, has been featured in a papal smock. Another episode about the Vatican trying like hell to get into Satan’s exclusive birthday party was either the most honest of episodes ever, or just Jews redirecting blame back to their scripted enemies.

So, yes, it is quite significant that Cartman exposes Kyle as the one responsible for 911. Clearly, Israel has more connections to 911 than any other group/faction out there, and as Carman points out, the Israeli spin machine was conspicuously absent and omnipresent that day. Per Netanyahu: “9/11 attacks [were] good for Israel.”

Hence begins the South Park spin job for idiots, and revelatory symbol factory to those who’s eyes are [somewhat] open. Oddly, I just realized that Oliver Stone, whose religious WTC narrative points many subtle fingers at Israel, is Catholic.

Information concerning Israeli involvement in 9/11 was conspicuously absent in every release of Loose Change, and I recall, Bermas/Avery saying it was “too speculative” to put in, and they didn’t wanna be “accused of being jew-haters/anti-semites.” Quite uncanny then, that within a moth of Missing Links being put out (by a group who believes The Jews control everything), Bermas miraculously puts out a film addressing Mossad involvement in 9/11 (funded by Alex Jones).

Of little surprise then, the second film, goes from Israel, to all over the board, so by the time it’s done, the viewer is left with more questions. Missing Links, even though it refuses to look beyond Jewish involvement, is clearly the better film.

I found it intriguing that Stan, who may well represent the illuminated masons, can’t ignore all the obvious clues pointing to Kyle/The Zionists. Even though he’s Kyle’s best friend, he had to ask. Note: “Stan,” could very well be a spin on SaTAN (as in American Dad). If you follow the gnostic line of thought that the Serpent / Satan is the liberator of man, and Jehovah the prison warden (as may the Masons).

The line from 911Truth Guy, is also quite funny, in consideration that the subvertly promoted “truth site” contains almost no info on Mossad’s involvement in 911.

The episode’s name is “Mystery of the Urinal Deuce,” which at first, to those awaiting South Park to either “reveal” or “obfuscate” truth, may seem like a “toilet humor” distraction to the main plot. But, it wasn’t. And, it has convinced me that true genius was behind the episode (I still suspect it’s not Parker/Stone).

I doubt trumpeting out the Janitor was not meant to disparage/praise “key-master” [¿?] William Rodriquez. The principal’s response, was addressed to Kyle’s mother, who demanded the children be indoctrinated with the “official” conspiracy theory (Sheila “the Zionist,” who, as Truther pointed out, was responsible for starting a bogus war between Canada and the United States, that served her agenda).

What follows is some public debate, where I don’t think it was unintentional the local yokel was the first one to bring up “exposed facts” (from Loose Change, etc). Much debate follows, with some raising convincing, yet regurgitated information (e.g., the melting point of steel), while the other idiots (those who believe in the Osama Easter Bunny scenario) dismiss them as “retards.”

Mr. Mackey interrupts the pointless debate/discussion and ask the most relevant question of all. Do you understand why yet? Think about it for a few moments.

Hence, this seems like a good time to go into a completely unrelated side-track, into another Loose Change variant I discovered: The Small Denominational Order of Loose Change. This “virtual abbey has some odd/interesting articles, such as:

• Why Chaos Magicians are Assholes (Edited 9/99)
• Grounding the fire: “Why are those wires coming out of the fire pit?”
• The writing on the wall: the master of manipulation manipulates the unmanipulable.
• A gekko [i.e., a lizard] in the house: sometimes it’s the simple things that make revenge so sweet.
• Footprints in the Sand [substituting Baphomet for Jesus].

Now back to the turd-pile we are all so busy pretending isn’t there. As I’ve said numerous times, 11 of 9 was nothing new historically, and that far too many of those who are so singularly focused on obtaining “just ice” for the staged event, willingly ignore their own contribution to this ever growing shit-pile humanity may one find ourseleves drowning in. The question is not “who was behind 9/11,” but “who is taking a shit right in the middle of the communal area we all have to live?”

Throwing more confusion and chaos into the 911 disinfo pile, 911Truth Guy has his brains blown out by George Bush. We’re then given a bunch of reasons why they, “our government,” pulled of 9/11, and yet another narrative of “how.”

The above scene is far too clever. If I had a dime [hm, some "loose change"] for every idiot who claims they “woke up” after learning about 09/11/01. Yes, they’re “awake,” yet drinking Coke Zero, eating KFC, watching MTV, listening to Top of the Pops, and putting their own kids through the Disney degeneration regimen. Stan and Kyle, as they’re emoting the same sentiment, obliviously walk right by 911Truth Guy, whom they had just witnessed the murder of. Well, at least Tray Parker and Matt Stone are like “so above” putting crass commercials into their work.

The kids cornering 911Truth Guy, led to a weird path of synchronistic “truth.” I was going to point out that he refers to some ambiguous, but definite “they” he is serving, and that he does so standing between two towers, inside a pyramid. And then I thought, wait a minute … that shapes looks familiar. The result [↑]. Hm!

Inside the study of the mysterious interloper (the father of the Hardly boys, the one who shot, “for real this time,” the truther/agent), Boy George Bush deliberately drops the secret “evidence” which reveals that “our government” was responsible for 911. For those following the storyline underneath the surface: the twists get real interesting. Stan, in other words, the Masons, admit(s) that he/they are the ones who took a metaphoric dump on America. Yes, it’s quite complex.

There was definitely an inordinate amount of Israelis involved in 9/11, but they could not have pulled it off without the cooperation of elements within our own government. Next question: “Who has the power to cover it up?” That would have required the participation of many people in many fields. Perhaps, the suggestion being put forth is that “good people” can be kept quiet, if they belong to a brotherhood which deems the end goal, “the great work,” tantamount.

Extrapolating: such people live here [this country/this planet], so in essence, they took a dump right in the middle of their own living room. Yet: don’t forget, the neuro-linguistic suggestion was embedded by [Catholic] Oliver Stone in JFK.

I’d surmise Stan’s closing statement upset a lot of “truthers:” basically, it said that Osama’s Flying Circus was responsible for 9/11. It didn’t doesn’t bother me at all. Is it South Park’s responsibility to educate their fans? I have gained [some] respect for the show, cause what it is doing, is making fun of their own fan-base. South Park is telling its fan[atics] they are a “bunch of retards.” So, yes, if you watch Comedy Central for your “education,” than as far as you’re concerned, “a bunch of pissed off Arabs” did it. Kyle should trust his instincts (which I’ve interpolated).

The final scene earns more admiration. As Mr. Mackey ask Stan (who’s being made to clean up his mess), if he’d think it was funny that someone took a dump on his Mom’s face, Stan chuckles and snorts like a giggling fool. Isn’t that what the media does daily to its brain-washed addicts? Aren’t Viacom and Disney disrespecting [taking a crap on the faces of] Mothers across America, turning their daughters into self-deprecating little whores and their boys into effeminate zombies?

Speaking of mothers, none of this would have been possible, were it not for a movement that started in the sixties, on whose path I ended up after finding another uncanny sync, a book about 3 women who lived through the last major cultural “revolution” of the sixties. Today’s version: 3 young men find themselves in the middle of the “truth revolution” of that started [with a bang] in 2001?

If it weren’t for the feminist movement (where women gained absolutely nothing, but we all lost in so many ways), would the media be able to so readily shit on the faces of American mothers now? The three whores who led this movement, were: Gloria Steinem, Bella Abzug and Betty Friedan. Fortunately, Abzug (the one with the witch hat) is dead, and so is Friedan (pictured making the Lucifer/Vagina symbol while wearing red). Coincidentally, all three of these women were/are also Jewish.

Should one reference wikidisinfopedia, they toss in the names of 3 black women as co-leaders; one of whom I’d never heard of, and the other has an extremely short resume [name + "wife of murdered civil rights activist" + end). The site, by chance, is run out of Israel: don't expect complete an iota of honesty in regards to historical matters about infiltrators promoting the destruction of their host society. {*3}

The last surviving member of the infernal trio is Steinem (wearing the V shaped rabbit ears above). Doesn't it strike someone as rather ironic that both Gloria and her nemesis, Hugh Hefner, were working towards the same goal? Two staged adversaries unified behind the scenes. Controlled opposition? Yea, I'd guess a lot of the "911 Conspiracy" movement [yet another turd] operates in the same manner.

While words can be twisted and turned to take the mind this way and that, symbols do not lie [to the aware]. For me, the above collage is a simple, yet elegant, disinfo shattering sledgehammer. To those following my Lucifer exposé: the correlation between the second bunny and this symbol is “interesting,” to say the least.

Should you run into Gloria, feel free to take a steaming crap on her face, seeing that she has already taken several on yours. What the hell’s she got to do with American Psycho? Well, she was married to Christian Bale’s father, David. By the way, Bale was a little too convincing in the role. Can’t say I’ve cared for him since.

Contrasting Bruce Wayne to Patrick Bateman, shows, well, little to contrast. And, I find little to contrast between American Psycho’s corrupt materialistic alter-sadist, and the new soulless elite-serving Dark [k]Night. “Casting” Bale as John Connor, “humanity’s last hope” against automated tyranny, is either a slap in the face of humanity, or alternately, a realization that “hope” is like 9/11, a [killing] joke.

So, what were Kyle’s instincts telling him? Maybe he, like me, noticed the grid pattern and pyramids on Mr. Hardly’s fine crystal. Maybe he noticed the size of the mansion, the vaulted arches, the statues and objects of decoration? Maybe he remembered that Hardly was the one who killed the disinfo agent, before he could reveal who “they” were? Maybe he found it strange his “leaders” all came to Hardly’s house? And maybe, one who’s eyes were really open, would have figured that Hardly’s two semi-retarded homo-erotic penis-fixated “boys” most definitely were not the source of his vast material riches, or wealth of knowledge.

Alas, maybe herein, I also find the answer I’ve been seeking. I’ve long said I refuse to believe the Parker/Stone team are responsible for, much less even aware of, the multitude of deep esoteric symbols, archetypes and multi-layered revelations that take place in some of the latter [post fame/establishment] episodes. {*4} So, is there a “Mr. Hardly” type operating behind the scenes of South-Park, while Parker & Stone serve as the penis-joke obsessed Hardly Boys poster children for the show?

That was rhetorical. I got my answer. Did you? The elites like Hardly [whose name is never given, but I had to call him something], have been, in control of “the game” for a long long time. They commit their crimes, and then control both sides of the opposition that arise, and their names, have been, and are always kept out of the media. The names you do hear, like Silverstein, Greenspan, Netanyahu, Obama, Bush and Rockefeller, are merely those of faithful servants (or gullible dupes), who, like us, are too dumb to know they are crapping in the middle of their own house.

Hence, I leave us all with yet another completely unrelated image, that now seems all too related and relevant. Next, back to the Ring of Fire, and hopefully, onwards and upwards [alternately, "downwards"], to the “they” the elites of the elites, those that even Queens and Popates serve…

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*1: I’m not promoting the “author’s” viewpoint; the words of Jones/Bermas speak for themselves. Found it interesting, in consideration of everything said herein, that author chose to announce he was “Roman Catholic.” Jones did once say, “Hollywood is owned by the Arabs;” which explains why just about every teen movie of the 80’s starred an Arab female lead, and why almost every action film features Jewish extremists who hijack planes, speak bad English and terrorize innocent well-dressed Arabs. [LB]

*2: Anyone unfamiliar, should take the time to read my The Cross The Crown & The Jew article, which I feel, presents an accurate view of “the big picture.” As predicted, many [idiots] have since labeled me an “antisemite,” while, in unison, several “Jewish Conspiracy” promoting sites, dropped me from their list of promoted links. [LB]

*3: The Russian, ahem, “revolution,” and subsequent Gulag, enslavement, societal destruction program is, but one, example. As for this alleged “Black/Jew” alliance (which, Jon Stewart was promoting just last week), do any fools believe that fiction?

• One: look up “Bronxville, NY” and note how many sites/articles speak of how both blacks and Jews were kept out the exclusive white area. The first is true; that the latter were “kept out” is a sad “joke” to anyone who’s been there..

• Alternately: go to Israel, and find out how the dark Sephardic Jews have fewer rights than the Palestinians, and are openly called “niggars” ["KOOSHIM"]. [LB]

*4: While it is very possible Stone/Parker created the show, once it reached critical mass, undoubtedly, “illuminated” minds were brought into/took over the show. It’s the same old [repeating] story. If you think the “Google Millionaire Playboy Kids” are responsible for the world’s number one data-mining operation, your are a fucking moron. Yes, and 19yo Billy Gates outsmarted IBM. It’s true!

To address my own stupidity: which as I stress, you will never grow/mature if you don’t look at your own, laugh, learn and move on, had it not been for my sister wondering if the Hardly Boys were Matt & Tray, I might have overlooked it. [LB]

Continuing from where we last left off, we were pondering the nature and identity of one Lucy Für (be it either a ribald “fur” reference, or the German word “for”). As I surmised at closing (part iii), I think we [those of us trying to shake loose the shackles of ignorance] have been very short-sighted to not consider that this entity may very well be female. The signposts do seem to lead us in that direction.

The first of the above images came from a completely unrelated article from Too Long In This Place, but syncs all too well with everything discussed to this point. The second, may or may not, seem somewhat unrelated. I’d presume many reading this believe Lucifer, Satan and “the devil” are separate entities (or metaphors). However, if we rotate the image 90 degrees, it seems a “perfect fit” with the Coco Chanel logo. We’re then left wondering what function the little black heart serves.

Thus, if we’re going to talk about vaginas, we may as well go back to our present lineage of living Material Queens (as discussed in Goddess of the Vulva article). Below, we see all three Goddesses flashing essentially the same “gang sign.”

The uninitiated, and the ignorant, will assume there’s a difference between the above images; that the first two are saying “peace.” But the truth of the matter is that the Queen Mother, Esther, is being a little more honest than her underlings. Looking at the above sequence, you’ll also have to note we are presented with a VVV, hence reducing the numbers via Qabala, the dreaded/mystic 666.

I mentioned Dora the Explorer (in part iii), and also how the recurring letter R, may itself carry some 666 resonance (also part iii). However, it wasn’t until long after said part my mind recalled there was something about the previously linked image (below), which didn’t seem quite right. Unless I’m sure of something, I try not to speculate into areas where I may later accuse myself of manufacturing conclusions.

Note how the last R (18/666), is being adjusted by the FOX (which reduces to 666). Also, the “THE” encompassed by an arrow is pointing to the other R (another 666). Throw in the two MK butterflies, and it’s safe to say that Dora emerging from the hole (the O/vagina) is by no means accidental, and that whoever puts this program out know exactly what they’re doing, and possibly, whom they are serving.

Until I completed my side-track into Sex and the City, I thought I may be somewhat guilty of “reaching” with the notion that 9 Holes via 3 Women is a formula suggestive of 9 Gates. However, that fruitful sidetrack, helped along by the adverts for the below 3 educational videos (made by the same company responsible for Sex in her Shitty starring Sarah Jessica Porkher), lead me believe I am on to something.

Hence, looking at the three aforementioned Goddesses, I see the mystery of the 9 Gates unraveling before my eyes, each Goddess/Harlot strongly suggesting same (Via the V). Super Star Series? I guess phallic hot dogs aren’t limited to Hollywood Blockbusters. So, what exactly does the “V” hand symbol stand for/represent?

Well, should we be complete idiots, we might believe either of the first two liars. The last image, while misleading in my opinion, is not completely off tangent. By the way, for those unaware, Old Winston made his infamous V sign with his hand facing in both directions. Of course, the most common interpretation fed the ignorant masses is that it stands for “peace.” Oh, give me a break. Please!

The above magazine cover, while not making the symbol directly, does suggest that V symbol/sign represents a “piece” of something. Come to think of it, were V to stand for both Victory and Peace, is that not what comes after years of wholesale slaughter; mass human sacrifice on an unimaginable scale? And who was all this blood shed for? “Der Fürher,” shout brain-washed historians. For “her?” Für Lucy?

It doesn’t look like we can get an honest answer as to what the hell V stands for unless we ask the Devil herself, Puscifer. [Pussy Für Moi? Thanks to Eugene @ Underground Stream for image.] The young woman above, though I can’t claim to know her, may not need to read this blog to guess what the “V” represents.

Looking at the above sequence, I can safely say that “Eve Ensler,” or whoever the hell created the Vagina Monologues [V/M=VW=VVV=666], knew exactly what they’re doing too. Yes, they know the Vagina is somehow connected to the “burning ring” theme. They know the Valentine symbol is a vagina, and not even close to a heart. Alas, looking at the last one, they know to pay homage to the right solar god/cult.

Taking a closer look/view at The VieW, we have six vaginas sitting in front of a fiery lit background spewing out “opinions” from their top hole [if you want to call them that, I've watched endured the show on a couple of occasions and have yet to hear an actual "opinion" relayed]. I guess we also have another VW [or two]. How many 666’s can be derived from just one picture??? Don’t forget to count the number of gates/rings, which seem to be neatly arranged in three groups of six.

Comparatively honest were covers of “V” Magazine. The bottom of their V usually intersects models precisely where it should [above center]. It’d be safe to assume there are few women on this planet one could squeeze their head inside the vagina of. We can also presume the center image is sandwiched by birthing metaphors.

Speaking of this women’s “fashion” magazine, someone pray tell, please explain to me how any of the above pages serve that purpose? The hosiery being sold, on top of whatever/whomever else in the first image, is from Agent Provocateur, a seedy twisted company if there ever was one (thanks to Stygian Port for link). And why is the word “Vampire Horde” etched in the backdrop?

The center image is selling either Miranda Kerr or wrinkled linens. Kerr, is the alleged fiance of heralded ring-bearer Orlando Bloom. Wait, isn’t he gay? How could he not be? His name is basically Mickey Mouse Anus Blossom [syncing with]. I’m sure everyone looking at the last image is thinking the exact same thing I am right now: “Oh my god! I must have that stupid hat! Where can I buy it?”

The above use of red, white and black, combined with the compass/square, from two completely unrelated sources stretch the possibility of coincidence towards nil. The biggest V ever? What woman wouldn’t give her left tit for that honor? A joke:

A woman goes into a Gynecologist’s office, strips down and puts her legs in the stirrups. When the doctor comes to examine her, he says, “God, you’ve got a large vagina. God, you’ve got a large vagina.” She says, “Like I don’t know that already! But, why did you feel the need to say it twice!” And he says, “I didn’t. I didn’t.”

I know the Monologues [¿mons logos?] were allegedly started for a “good cause:” to raise awareness of sexual violence, and tell horrid stories of how Yugoslavian were raped by Serbs (coincidentally, well-timed with the effort to sell Americans/Britons the bogus war intended to demolish the resistance a united Yugoslavia might have posed to the European Union). But, you the reader, should know well by now, few “good” causes promoted by the Medes are ever quite what they seem.

Found more supporting images from the middle Goddess Britney Spear[s of Destiny]. The first of which, is an admission of how she’s used to rock[us/trap us with]in the confines of the spiritual grid. The second takes us back to the theme of some dimensional portal opening/hell seeping in (discussed at end of part ii). The last not only takes us back to the grid, but shows the flow from red demarcation, to the transitional yellow, to the final blue [and syncs back to the first image].

Playing with Geometry on my bar napkin, it occurred to me that were I to convert the SE into their Greek equivalents, the word “SEX” itself is an entire quadrant of the M/W spiritual gird. Continuing on, since a V is technically a woman’s frontal arrow pointing to her sweet spot, there is an O below the V. Putting those together, not only looks a bit like Taurus [the second major constellation], but rather devilish as well. Does that mean anything? I can’t say for sure. Maybe?

That could be conjecture, but what definitely isn’t … the idea that the two images above are somehow disconnected. The first is from a Britney Spears concert [oddly, on 03/18], and the latter from the curtain call of a random Vagina Monologues performance. Those unconvinced: explain the significance of a V at a BS concert for an album named Circus (same from where prior “ring of fire” image hails).

Above, is Nick Cage’s [11:11 resonant] stargate server Krista Kampbell from The Wicker Man. Were she to spread her legs a little wider, she could form an M (as Gav once pointed out), instead of a hearty V. Speaking of, I wonder where the phrase “eat your heart out,” originates? The fiery pussy [to the right] forces me to ponder, how women go from kitten to pussy-cat, and just when they’re old enough to escape cat references, the Medes come along and dub you “cougars.”

Back when I was a businessman, I’d occasionally take my students to a place called Mons Venus, a club featuring a Smorgasbord of flowers, hearts, marys, fish and almonds; a virtual feast for the eyes. {*1} The technical/medical term is mons veneris (the fatty flesh in human females over the junction of the pubic bones), which, in Latin, translates to the “mound of Venus.” Webster’s Code Book adds: “literally, eminence of Venus or of venery.” From there (venery), we get “sexual intercourse,” or “the act of chasing/hunting;” which yields venison [dead meat].

Delving deeper, I went to “venerate,” which means “to revere/worship.” Not so surprisingly then, the etymology of ALL of these words go back to Venus, which, as I’ve said before, many feel is “Lucifer” (forcing me to now wonder if they’re right).

In between the end of Part I, and the Sex diversion, I recalled the name of an unseen movie starring the Porkher herself, If Lucy Fell (1996). Lucy Für who fell from [the] Heaven[s]? The sunlit building facades do so seem to resemble fire. Is Life Without Dick yet another nudge to the Lesbian push women have been feeling steam-rolled by? Why’s eLLe McPherson wearing a black heart? Most importantly: like all other roads, does the one of Romance lead us back to Rome as well?

The above painting of “Madonna” and Child is by Carlo Crivelli, an artist who may connect back to the Black Nobility of Venice. The first thing anyone who’s a “Christian” should ask themselves, is why is Mary dressed in royal robes and gems? The second should be, why is there already a cross behind the child’s head? Lastly, what is the bird the “Jesus” is holding, and why is there a fly in the painting?

According to tradition, the sparrow betrayed Christ in the garden, and urged his tormentors on, by crying: “He is living! He is living!” While the pitying swallow, watching this on the cross cried: “He is dead! He is dead!” Encyclopædia of Superstitions, Folklore, and the Occult Sciences of the World – Cora Linn Daniels & C. M. Stevans

Crivelli was indubitably an enlightened soul. For one, he was vegetarian. Secondly, he is also the painter inquiring minds refer to when tracing “religious” works from the period that depict UFO’s in backgrounds. Mainstream art historians, in other words, babbling idiots, will tell fools that “the fly represents the corruption in the church, which Jesus/Mary are displeased with.” Hopefully, there are few such gullible fools reading my rant [I have made some effort to drive readers away, no?].

Perhaps, we were looking at an artist’s rendition of “the lord of the flies,” who is alleged to be Beelzebub. The above painting/artwork is Iron Maiden’s “Lord of the Flies” (the same band that sang “666: The Number of the Beast”). Interesting x-box behind the noble “lord,” no? Whoever this “lord” is, the red carpet leading to his throne suggest royal lineage, same as that of Crivelli’s Mother and Child.

As we take this road in search of “the beast” and its nature, I think it important that those of us who know better than to let our quest for truth get mired in the folly of monotheism, also not commit to the same path where indoctrination may lead: the confines of monobeastism. I think I’ve already found the octacular beast that lies within me, now I turn my attention to beasts above me outside myself.

“Blasphemy!” shouted a reliable and predictable number of fools when that “whore” Madonna burst onto the scene, daring to take the name of the Virgin Mother. If worshiping the torture tool of Jesus is not an eye-con, how can veneration of the Mad Whore be one no less? Interesting who wrote the biography: Lucy Hole Brien.

Lucy was once a member of “feminist” punk band The Catholic Girls [¿back to Rome already?]. Interesting tag-line on the cover, from a rag whose title pays homage to another beast a’rising [Mojo], and whose narrow focus praises bands serving the cult of Dionysus [¿owning pink?]. The Dali resonant closing image shows, whatever force controls this Madonna, is very meticulous in everything it/she does. I’d guess there are few fools left reading I’ll need to explain how the other peace symbol (the one Madonna’s encased/enshrined in) is the ancient Teutonic Rune of Death.

And no, don’t fall for the disinfo aimed at awakening Christians that it’s “Nero’s Broken Cross.” That is utter bullshit crafted to push those of faith to deeper veneration of the cross/cube. I trust Stanley Monteith (and his ilk), about half-as-far as I could toss him. {*2} But would even the most unaware really need me to say anything? The Mad Whore’s facial expression, the wording, the fact she’s wearing black (hence, resonating death) should speak volumes. Another spade?

Stepping down the lineage, again another image connecting the Queen Mother’s vagina [¡dead center!] to some infernal temperature. Even more interesting is the sculpture of Britney spread over a corpse, giving birth like an animal (per chance, sculpted/crafted by the same “artist” responsible for Paris Hilton Autopsy).

Someone quite familiar with vaginas, death and birthing would be the ever reincarnating Kenny from South Park. The writers/artists behind the show (whoever they may be), were/are obviously enlightened enough to sketch Kenny as always being in the process of exiting a vagina. I overlayed the Coco Chanel “caliper,” and in this instance, it is not “a perfect fit.” But, it shouldn’t be, cause whatever hole Kenny is being pushed out of, would already be dilated, allowing us to see his head, and him the outside world. Something look familiar there Kenny [above right]?

Vesica Piscis, the “bladder of the fish,” is probably a euphemism for the “vagina of the fish,” as the Planter and the Forestress’s divine center is the Sex chakra. Like the Fish in general, the Vesica Piscis has long been associated with the female genitals, which are venerated as the gate between heavenly wisdom (Sophia) and material manifestation. And as the age-old Maypole erection worships the phallos of the Planter, the age-old Maytide Well-decorating ceremonies (with flowers, etc.) worship the Vesica Piscis of the Forestress.

Whether you’re looking at Kenny above, or Jesus below, you are looking at the “vesica piscis.” The almond shape [¿bust a nut?] has been intimately associated from Cybele to Aphrodite Marina to the Virgin Mary (this Rebel would argue these are all just different names, including Esther/Ishtar, for the same entity).

While many a “moral” Mexican fool was indignantly “outraged” that Playboy Mexico was sacrilegious enough to depict a nude Maria posing as the Holy Virgin, the Rebel will argue that the magazine was properly venerating the Virgin/Whore. What are the origins of Mary Worship? Again, the road leads us back to the transmogrified Roman Empire, one that through sword/legion controlled millions at best, but now through vagina/cross, controls billions [step foot in South America during any of the festivals honoring the Holy Whore]. And just who is that whore? It’s Lucy Für!

Am I “reaching?” No. If you could see the whole puzzle fitting together, I think you’d concur with where I’m going. Those of you mature enough to look behind the veil, feel free to click on the below image [which, btw, is a "mons veneris"] to peer at the Hole of Holes [i.e., what the priest class dubs the Holy of Holies].

The above images [one deep], of Mary’s flowing robes, remind me of a song entitled “Mary Mary,” by a little-known band named Thrashing Doves (syncing us with yet another Goddess of the same lineage, Columbia):

mary opened her robes for me
she’s got a potion for sleep
she put her arm around my shoulder
and i fell to the floor at her feet

and she slid down beside me
and she whispered in my ear
and before anything else she confided to me
her compulsion to terrorize

oh, i’d sell my soul in slavery
just to keep her, just to keep her coming here

now she waltzes around me
wearing a dracula hat
she comes and she goes as she pleases
by way of a vampire flap

and she wears that cloak of decency
and it just covers up her face
but when she sinks her teeth into your neck boy
she could wipe out the human race

oh, i’d sell my soul in slavery
just to keep her, just to keep her coming here

Hopefully you remembered (from part ii), how murdered spiritual warrior Peter Tosh believed Lucifer was, in fact, the head vampire. The Doves, oddly enough, are best known for a remake of the Rolling Stones “Sympathy for the Devil” (which will come up in part v), and another song called “Biba’s Basement” (which syncs with Guy Fawks/Fox and the Satanic hinting V for Vendeta, also coming in v), and is about a woman who collects whore furs (syncing with the Sex up the Shitter series). Phew!

Back to Ishtar/Madonna, the grid-resonating Whore/Mother, is forcing me to recall another classic Woody Allen line. Facing the dilemma of which half of a woman [whore/saint] he’d get, he hoped for “the half that eats.” {*3} That would be the wormhole feeding one in the first image. At least now (per 2nd image), we have documentary evidence that the Madonna is in fact, “a whore.” Lastly, she’s shown dragging us to the shitter (perhaps, suggesting why Allen chose the other half).

Don’t forget to check the song-list. Just about every one was crafted for a purpose. I recall fools/comedians [myself included] joking about the hypocrisy of “that slut Madonna being in any way like a virgin.” Yes, you fool. She is just like THE Virgin in more ways than you can fathom. One reader commented on the uncanny sync of finding women in red resonating the number five. Take a good look at the eyes of the woman performing some five-pointed red pentagram ritual below.

Red is, of course, also the color of blood. The Hole of Holies, the Vagina, sheds it on occasion; the first being the one time ritual of the hymen ripping (i.e., a heart being broken). The other, is the monthly cycle of menstruation. Should I have been even slightly surprised to find another “artist,” Jaz Graf, doing a series of works on the phenomenon of Vesica Piscis/Holey Mother imprints/miracles left behind on women’s lacy undergarments (appropriately entitled “Virginal Apparitions”).

Worth noting: shawls of “lace” are quite popular at confirmations and other Roman Rituals involving children. Extremely revelating: the phrase “shed blood” does not always imply one’s own, and strongly suggests sacrifice (recall’s Tosh’s words).

Thrashing Doves came along a bit late to the last true major grassroots musical rebellion that was taking place in the 80’s; a time when some bands achieved popularity through talent, ability and by developing a local following (i.e., not by sucking cock, having their rectum stretched out, or selling out their soul by whatever means possible). But things began to change. If you were listening in 1989, you likely never heard “Mary Mary,” but were infected by a few (or all of) the below heavily promoted “top hits” of that year (fame via latter “method”):

#02 “Girl You Know It’s True” — Milli Vanilli  #03 “If I Could Turn Back Time” — Cher  #01 “I’ll Be Loving You (Forever)” — New Kids  #03 “Like A Prayer” — Madonna  #10 “Your Mama Don’t Dance” — Poison  #01 “My Perogative” — Bobby Brown

I had used the Scorpions degeneration promoting hit “Rock You Like a Hurricane,” as an example, however, shortly afterward, a reader (deva deva) let me know there was much more to the story behind the band/cover/song [see below]. As for the Doves, their career ended shortly thereafter. Under “believe it, or not:”

Per wikiwikipaedikikli: There is some evidence to suggest that their career was irrevocably harmed when British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher expressed fondness for their video for “Beautiful Imbalance.”

The Virgin Killer album was released en mass (sans censoring). The shattered glass, not only implies forced penetration (i.e., rape), but also trauma leading to mental compartmentalization (mind control). On one hand, “Virgin” Killer could allude to the ritual sacrifice of innocents. On the other, as we contemplate the nature of The Virgin, we can infer a double-entendre speaking of her lust for blood (one that even two world wars could not satiate). As I overheard a wise soul (sorry, forget who) recently say, “to this day, the holocaust still has not ended” [supporting evidence].

For daring to show the commercial release of the Scorpions album cover, groupthink promoting wikipedia found itself blacklisted by several internet content filtering services. In a logical world, the purveyors of the above advertisement would be blacklisted as well. What exactly are they selling us, other than pedophilia, multiple personality disorder and disassociation? Oh … three “hearts.”

While it’s obvious DisNai bore/created/shaped the latest Goddess Miley (of whom I’ve written many times), and her predecessor Britney, the Madonna mystery tells us little of her youth (don’t expect Lucy’s book to reveal truths on the subject). I don’t know who “Jessie” is, but he/she does seem like a good excuse to connect the Madonna/Whore to the Mouse, Hades/Pluto, and Pan’s huge phallus/flute.

Did you catch the Pig “porking” the hole? There may also be some relevance to the rainbow and Mickey’s huge yellow balls slapping up against the Whore’s chin.

I must admit, though I’ve been one of the few to publicly criticize the Gods of South Park, earning the derision of their fan[atic]s, I was quite impressed overall with the Jonas Brothers episode. “The Jonas Brothers Burn Me Up!” Exactly honey! In more ways than you could imagine. The show, told parents, Christian or not, and rather directly, how utterly f’n stupid they are for allowing Disney to sexualize their preadolescent daughters. I, however, took more interest in the omnipresent fire theme, the ring, and Hades chief servant/front-man Mickey, burning people alive.

Was it time for me to reconsider whether I had judged “the anti-American half a fag couple Matt and Trey” [per a comment left on one of my vids] too harshly? Well, I started down that road, then remembered there were at least two scenes which troubled me/caught my eye, and I needed to watch the episode again (with access to pause/capture). Those scenes are pictured above. I knew a couple of the V’s were a little too obvious, but in both scenes, the third was a little more subdued. Thus, I have to wonder and ask: “What is the reason for the 666?”

The Simpsons, on the other hand, [as surmised before] have abandoned the world of subtleties. It’s safe to conclude that if any occult symbol makes it into any Simpsons episode, “chance” can be ruled out. So yes, that is a Cross of Lorraine and not merely a hopscotch “rug.” Interesting then to consider HaNNaH’s Aye to Zed belt buckle, and the three V’s she’s sporting [I'll leave finding them to you].

Back to the hole: name one other famous man’s mother, whom there are statues devoted to and tomes written about? Buddha? Da Vinci? Newton? Mohamed? Einstein? Why only the Jesus? How does squeezing out one who goes on to achieve greatness on his own qualify his entry whole worthy of prayer and veneration?

Earlier in this series (part i), I mused over the possibility that short-circuiting the chakra system, allows for possession by spirits entering via the lowest chakra [through the the anus]. Looking online for the Madonna, I found many a nude, yet nary a one that showed her posterior. As was the mysterious temporary case of Britt Eklund (part ii), I wonder if the case was same for Esther/Madonna, yet on a more permanent basis. Perhaps, the image to the left, speaks beyond mind control, are we to take in the dark hole behind the material version. The only exposed rear shot I found was this rare print above [right]. Hm, there’s that spade again.

A spade is merely an upside-down heart, made even clearer by the above image I had been saving for my Valentine’s Day post. With one exception: there appears to be something entering it … my money’s on a phallus. I’m further convinced that modern day playing cards are a dumbed-down version of the Tarot (speculated on before), and given to the mAsses to keep them ignorant of the higher teachings of the Tarot/Torah. It’s all about worshiping our mAssters and resonating at base frequencies/chakras: vaginas, sodomy, the diamond/grid and still unsolved clubs, which at this juncture, I’ll assume have something to do with phalli/control.

The first card may illustrate my prior point, though I found the spider webs far more telling. The Ace of Spades butt plug seems right on topic (I had also found an unpictured woman named Katie Spades, who’s personal site/life is dedicated to spanking). The final image, in consideration of everything I’ve said on the topic to date, is upon closer examination, overwhelming.

Hey, all you people that tryin’ to sleep
I’m out to make it with my midnight dream, yeah
‘Cause I’m a back door man
The men don’t know
But the little girls understand
All right, yeah

You men eat your dinner
Eat your pork and beans
I eat more chicken
Than any man ever seen, yeah, yeah

The above lyrics are from [likely written for] mind-controlled Dionysian king Jim Morrison. I wonder how many people/fools at the time, had any idea the “Back Door Man” song was about sodomizing little girls/boys ["chicken" is a term pedophiles use for preteen boys]? Didn’t he also sing “Light My Fire?” We may have to revisit cult-leader/stooge Jimmy Jones/Morisson again before this is over.

Flipping through the channels one Sunday, caught roughly two minutes of Charlie’s Angels, all I needed to see. Cameron Diaz was doing her “butt dance” [above center] in front of the mirror, until the doorbell rang. Package delivery guy. Cam answers in her panties: “I told you guys to just stick it in my slot anytime.”

Yea, the writers were trying to be funny, and had to write obtuse lines aimed at the average idiot who might watch such a movie. I wonder how many noticed the guy came to the “back door” dressed in “UPS brown?” If someone can differentiate between the two movie posters sandwiching Carmen, as to which may be a porno, feel free to explain why/how to me. Note the subtle “back/rear V” suggestion.

One friend raised the question, that if Lucyfür, is indeed the Queen Mother, than why do we live in a world, where women, incomprehensibly, as Elinor Gadon wrote, are dehumanized, degraded and debased to such a level [basically, the sum of 3 O's and 2 B/8's]. Well, who is woman’s true worst enemy? Who do women dress up for? Who do they compete with? The Whore Mother, seems quite determined to not have a challenger for her attention rise among the ranks of mortals.

Speaking on topic, the above image came from some post somewhere entitled “pics of my slutty ex-girlfriend.” “Slutty” she might be, and though her self-esteem might seem to be in short supply, she somehow managed to intuit a suite of hearts extending out of her own heart. Just be glad it’s not a suite of spades [hm, didn't I once suggest we replace the word "royal" in our lexicon with "anal discharge?"].

South Park seems to also either have an anal fixation, or a deeper understanding of that part of the body. The phrase “Handful of Cheek” implies something beyond fart jokes. Kenny’s vesica piscis, all so close to his flaming asshole could be coincidence, but Mother Mary bleeding from her anus, I’d hazard not.

Speaking of Catholics, I already spoke of how anti-NWO “truth-teller” Leonard Horowitz is a Knight sworn to service the Vatican [check his own website if you don't believe me]. The above scenes are from the Swine-Flu Pandemic scare video he released, of which the entire narrative rings awfully similar to his AIDS/Ebola book. {*4} Quite an interesting sweater he wore for the occasion, right? Lest I get accused of misleading you, the “double-v” sign he flashes did come at the end of him “quoting” something, but in lieu of what’s to follow, was worth a mention.

Len’s been busy promoting a magical healing concert to the “love” vibration [528] on the pending summer solstice [?some type of Luciferean magic ritual?].

Some excerpts: “divine communion,” promoted the Clear Channel network, “blessing the children” [be wary of anyone using that phrase], the “concert for the living water” [?that inside Lucy's womb?], tribute to the nefarious King David, “heart-felt” and “love,” “Revelation 14:1″ (the “remnant” of 144,000 – hence bringing about the End Times), focusing on the “center of the rainbow” (which he calls “the center of the heart”), bringing out the yellow band (usually associated with visible light/lux).

Pray along with him at own risk! Any prayers to Lucifer (the Mad Virgin), might be answered. Remember, the head vampire, must inevitably be paid in blood.

Since I mentioned Miley, I guess we’re in the incest arena. Reading a Pseudo-Occult Media post, I learned Thora Birch also has a “special relationship” with her father (while filming a closed set nude sex scene for Winter of Frozen Dreams, “daddy” practically kicked down the door just to be near his little girl). Is this an industry standard? Presenting Lemon Incest, an “interesting” duet sung by some French man derelict and his 12-year-old progeny (credit to Stygian for link):

The star/victim, is yet another cHARLOTte, Gainsbourg (i.e., Ginsburgh). I was going to ask French readers what connotation a lemon may have, then it dawned on me that it’s “yellow.” The girl, does have an interesting resume, an infamous film about “incest” (The Secret Garden), and the just-released Antichrist (2009).

I managed to catch some of the Frozen Dream (which the above left scene is from). The man pictured, is one who’s about to commit suicide, in order to protect the woman/prostitute he loves (Thora Birch). What do we have behind him but a vagina with a rainbow running through it (something we saw in Cage’s Wicker Man). {*5} The image of Thora exposing her grid-diamond was the most poignant I found.

Going back to Star Trek (which has played a significant part in this series): does anyone with a critical mind honestly still think that Qabalist Leonard Nimoy’s little hand-sign means “Live Long and Prosper?” Just like Nero’s Broken Cross, with most outright lies, you have (a) the cover story, (b) the crafted disinfo honey-pot, and alas (c) the truth lying somewhere beyond that. If you think Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds was about LSD, you’re stuck in the honey-pot.

There could very well be several more layers, but the example serves this moment, and I do have to close this. The best image I found [above right] was one put together by I don’t know who. I’m amazed by all the incorporated symbols randomly chosen by someone trying to make fun of the William Shatner spoken-word version of the Beatles’ classic; that would be Captain James Tiberius [possible tribute to the poet behind Pervigilium Veneris, aka "The Eye of Venus"] Kirk [allegedly after a prominent member of Lavey's Church of Satan]. “Lucy! I’m home!”

As I’ve been saying, we’re confined to the box, the cube that prevents us from experiencing the totality [of the flower] of life. Worse yet, our spirits, are trapped within the spherical mesh grid, which encompasses the cubic prison (our “value” is the energy we produce serves to feed some deity outside ourselves). My guess: when you’re free of the cube (death or transcendence), you realize [real-eyes] your next obstacle, the grid, in other words: Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds.

I leave you with a few wishes. One, I hope I’ve managed to convey these thoughts with clairty, as forces have been working against me to prevent that (I’ll discuss next chapter), and that the jigsaw is fitting together for you. Two, should a big yellow creature present itself, hopefully you’ll know better than to run inside its vagina. Three, I hope I haven’t scared my male readers off from ever entering any vagina ever again. I would like to think they’re not all monsters.

A vagina has many functions, but kneeling down and praying to it is a ridiculous waste of energy. I can think of several better things to do with one.

**1: In a previous life, when I kept myself “busy,” one may have seen me at such a place. Far more relevant: there is also the Tuba Veneris (the Little Book of Black Venus), which may well be the origin of the modern “little black book” reference. The book, namely, “as revealed to John Dee and Eward Kelly,” mentions “gravity” a full 100 years before Newton had a Venus Apple fall on his head. [LB]

*2: Stanley Monteith and his wife Barbara, are both, proud, and long-time members of the Council for National Policy, a far-right organization pushing the “one-world religion” agenda. See Josh Reeves’ The Secret Right documentary for more info. Stan has also been heavily involved in spreading AIDS/HIV disinformation. [LB]

*3: That line is from Allen’s Love and Death, aptly named reconsidering the vagina’s role in both processes. It is the same movie I show a clip of near the end [09:01] of They Live, We Sleep [Deeply]: II. [LB]

*4: It pains me to admit it, but I bought Lenny’s Lies at one time, especially in regards to story behind AIDS. Recalling Horowitz scream how Peter Duesberg was guilty of “the murder of millions” by denying AIDS is, in retrospect, an endorsement of the HIV Hoax perspective. I will apologize to Igor and Carissa for chastising them for pushing the issue, and may now need to consider purging Len’s influences from my mind/this blog. [LB]

*5: The man who’s collar we see in the image, opposite the man who commits suicide, is Keith Carradine, son of David. There’s a lot more to be said on the topic, and I like Aferissmoon’s take, which reminds us that despite the bullshit “official” story and the spinning info/disinfo, Carradine, of his own free will, chose to be part of a Tarantino Production. I’ll just add the werid synchronicty of Too Long in This Place’s “hanging” article [05/30], and my response regarding “auto-erotic assfixation” [05/31]. [LB]

I could go on and on about the negative impact the twisting tentacles of the four harlots below have had on the minds of women in North America, and tell you stories of the effects on lives of men (myself included), but then this would sway me from the more important task at hand (The Burning Ring of Fire).

I think the above image (put together for a prior article), sums it pretty nicely. So, picking up from where we left off: wedding canceled. The whoresome foursome goes down to sunny Mexico. Um, Carrie, are you paying attention? I said “sunny.” Why did you bring your fur along? Wasn’t it summertime in NYC when you left?

Sorry, I forgot, you’re a dirty whore, paid by an ugly whore (Anna Wintour), to convince other whores that they should wear dead animal skins. Go right ahead.

After I drafted this, an old, but not so great song came in my head by one “Sheila E,” whom I had been proud to say never made it into my record collection:

She wears a long fur coat of mink
Even in the summer time
…
She wants to lead the Glamorous Life
She don’t need a man’s touch
She wants to lead the Glamorous Life
Without love, it ain’t much

To tell the truth, upon finding the lyrics on the internet, reconsidered Sheila’s song as remarkably honest, especially compared to the average lyrics degeneration instructions the best artists whores at the tops of today’s charts sing/shit. I’ll take a brainwashed “love is forever” fool over a materialistic whore (as in part i’s “recording artists”), any day. Wait … is that an “x-box?” What the hell is it doing in this crappy movie? Is something important about to happen?

Oh my god! I’m amazed at how someone (likely one of the executive producers), felt the need to throw this [golden] nugget in here. Let’s see: you’re a shallow materialistic person, who’s biggest concern on your wedding day was “how you looked” and that you might be “humiliated.” The mask of glamour has come off.

That’s a career-killing shot (no way make-up would let that slip by). It dawned on me the “X-Box,” as seen in this position before, may also be an hourglass on its side. Time standing still? {*1} The jukebox queues up Declan MacManus:

One day you’re going to have to face
A deep dark truthful mirror
And it’s going to tell you things that I still love
you too much to say

The “honeymoon” bed has, as one would expect, flowers laid out in a vagina pattern. In the center, you find a flower, representative of virginity/the hymen, which traditionally [¿like 100 years ago?] was in tact/the case for brides.

Nothing new here. I don’t see vaginas everywhere I look, only where they’re placed. A plethora of others have seen them before me (e.g., Pink Floyd). I’m surprised at how many people out there choose to remain willingly ignorant of the obvious.

So now we gotta ask, why is the adopted daughter’s name “Lily,” and why is it every time she makes an appearance (except for the time she was naked), she’s depicted with flowers around her? Wait a minute … this excursion would mean they left her alone with the pedophile foster dad. Poor poor girl.

Another Lily comes to mind, one who looks a lot younger than her years and has been chosen to play Alice in the horror remake of alleged pedophile Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland [directed by Marilyn Manson and starring child abuse "survivor" Angelina Jolie]. Ben’s done a whole mess of posts on Lily Cole (here’s but one). So, what exactly is Playboy selling us in the below pictures?

Oddly, I found some extremely revealing shots of Lily (Cole) on a site called, get ready for this, “Drunken Stepfather” (link for those with a prurient interest). So, what’s Mom (Charlotte) up to? She’s being “smart” [cause she watches television], and brought her own food down to Mexico, so that she doesn’t get sick.

Let’s take a quick look at what this smart “health-nut” is eating [she's shown sticking to a daily jogging regimen]. The entire ingredient list of a typical pack:

“Sugar, modified food starch, contains less than 2% of natural flavor, disodium phosphate and tetrasodium pyrophosphate, monoglycerides, diglycerides, yellow 5, yellow 6, BHA (preservative).”

Officially: “BHA, short for Butylated Hydroxyanisole, may cause dry skin, allergic reactions, dental disease, and poor health, as well as stimulate adverse effects on liver and kidney functions.”

If it’s made by “Jell-O,” you can add industrial agricultural waste known as gelatin, aka “pulverized animal bones” to that toxic mix. Is it OK if I say “dumb cunt” here? Please? It so would seem to [over] apply. This woman deserves a prize. I think the below [right] image I created some time ago was pretty on the mark.

The above “Mommy Dearest” is of yet another infamous harlot of a mother who lived “the glamorous life,” named Kathy. The JonBenet’ish little girl at the bottom of the image, is none other than her success story of a daughter, who grew up well-adjusted against all odds: Paris Hilton. [Does sarcasm not suit me?] Below, SatanHam [i.e, Samantha] draws our attention to how Miranda also brought a fur [of sorts] along. Hm, a red bathing suit. Red hair. Lucy Fur?

One, it’s kind of funny how topics I bring up make it into movies I later watch. Two, hypothetically, were someone to anally electrocute Miranda, skin her and toss out her rotting carcass, would there be enough fur left over to make a glove for some rich person out there? How much would such an item retail for?

Time for Vagina Monologues: the girls all sit around the table and talk about how horrible men are. Carrie: “He was a bad guy. Always was. Bad guys do bad things.”

Men, who needs them? And then … she sticks a phallic object in her mouth (maybe a banana). OK. That was cute. Very clever. Miranda adds her bit: “The good guys screw you, and the bad guys screw you.” SatanHam, wearing yellow again, spews out a rather unwitty trademark whorish comment, but then, unexpectedly, makes a sudden turn and brushes all so close to true enlightenment:

If we were to look into our old Heavens (the solar system), prior to the first major [known] catastrophe: the Sun (masculine) is the center, and the second sun, Lucifer/Luna [per Tsarion et al], revolved around it/him before she fell. From the Gnostic perspective, would the creator be male and the architect female (as the “burning ring” suggest)? Lastly, there is the option that by “trying to be a man” [what Sam's character is all about], she will always be second, never first. {*2}

A naked Charlotte? Well, almost. Damn you Four Eyes! Damn you! Oopsie, she drank some water! Is it going to affect her? That kind of looks like an Eye of Horus, no?

Her intestines are starting to rumble. And she makes eye contact! Eye to eye? Eye to anus? Oops, she better get to the bathroom quickly.

And … she craps herself. No, I didn’t contribute to the script. But, was it “the water” as we’ve been conditioned to accept, or the fact that she had gone two entire days eating nothing but the chemical stew specified above?

More great Charlotte faces. Vacation over, Carrie returns to her apartment. That M/W “spinner” seems to show up around her a lot. To the right, is an earlier scene [at Vogue] I had forgotten. Odd “idol” next to her, no? Yea, it could be a horned creature, but the horns do also form a V, do they not? Vewee Vewee intewesting!

It’s time to find an assistant. Ooh, a new regular cast member! Will it be the dumb blond girl? Wait a minute … all these women are stupid. Oh, it’s that propagated superiority complex where everyone is programmed to think they’re not doing so bad, cause there’s always someone out there a hell of a lot dumber than they are:

Will it be the fat alcoholic? C’mon, seriously! Will it be the well-dressed effeminate Asian man with a “secret.” Nope, cause he’s wearing pink girl shoes. He’s out! Wait a minute? That doesn’t make any sense. He should fit right in.

A black lady? Ah, of course! She’s the one that showed up in red. Gotta get to the sisters. Can’t leave them out of this mind-fuck, I mean entertainment experience. But, how will the average inner city black woman afford the crap they pitch on the show? Carrie asks: “So Louise from St. Louis … How does an unemployed girl with three roommates afford the [crusty-turd] patchwork-denim Louis Vitton bag?”

That was a lot of Luis’s there, right? Carrie even pronounced her name with an “s,” instead of a “z” sound. The token black’s answer to the question [above]?

Yep, they’ve figured out a way to screw black women over, just like those “rent to own” places did to impoverished black people years ago. Why buy something you don’t need and can’t afford, when you can end up paying five times the price by “renting” it (like they rent auto “rims” to brainwashed black males now). Of course, you could always just [serve the chaos masters, and] “steal” it.

Look, I found Waldo! Ah, she’s entertaining indoctrinating little Lily with more CinderElla. A pink room? The only thing missing so far is an homage to Osiris. Oops, never mind, there he is below (just like in I Am Legend).

I was a little confused when the below scene started, because Carrie was asking Miranda why she had to dress up for Halloween? Doesn’t it seem that Carrie is already wearing a costume? Anyway, Ben @ Pseudo-Occult Media will probably appreciate Miranda’s frustration expressed below (check his related post), while those who remember she “chose” a sexy kitten outfit (part i) roll our eyes.

Been a while since we saw the number 666 hasn’t it? Well, the three V’s in the Vogue produce one. As do the three V’s of the neckline of the woman in red.

We could reach one step further and assume that woman has a vagina to get 3 more (giving us a total of 9 “gates”). Maybe we should ask the other woman in red with a big O next to her? Stroke that new “Bag, Borrow, or Steal” purse, Carrie. Stroke it like it was a kitten [never mind, she only likes dead furry things]!

Over the weekend I overheard some extremely horrid, yet extremely relevant song by some guy named Kanye (whom I have to conclude is severely retarded):

She don’t believe in shootin’ stars,
but she believe in shoes & cars
Wood floors in the new apartment,
couture from the store’s department
…
man why can’t life always be this easy
She in the mirror dancing so sleazy,
…
[The paparazzi] damn, these nigga’s got me,
I hate these nigga’s more than the Nazis

Finally, the show delivers on some of the promised “Sex” part. All three of the scenes involve Satan[ham]’s new neighbor, coincidentally named “Dante.”

The only thing missing so far is Cerberus. Well, that can be addressed: Sam chances on a Hell Hound. Actually, it’s just a horny little bitch [i.e., a female dog]. She buys it from a woman wearing a “cruelty free” shirt? Someone please tell me how this fur-laden movie is in any way cruelty-free? Anyone? Anyone?

The whore’s “trunk” is full of whore “crap.” Hm, why are some of the bags brown?

Pushing that neuro-linguistic “steal” suggestion further, Louise threatens to steal Carrie’s shoes. “War! Huh, yeah. Good God, y’all! What is it good for?”

“Absolutely nothing!” And then I remembered, the Devil wears Prada , or so we’ve been told. {*3} Not so oddly, Meryl Streep, will also be the star of the upcoming The Fantastic Mr. Fox, as Mrs. Fox ["fox" is the only English word which reduces to 666; "xxx" is technically not a word]. I think the second poster is more appropriate, this degenerative materialist extremism has been a plague on humankind.

We get yet another segment with women bitching about what dicks guys are. Men, who needs them? So, is their glass half-full or half-empty? Never mind. I gots to go girl! A man just called me. Bye! Carrie tries to blend in: “Booty Call?” Yet, more “rules” governing, classifying, and categorizing all human contact.

Time for Satan, I mean Santa’s favorite holiday: X-MAS [hm: "x-sam" featuring SAmaNTA]. Carrie’s gift seems like a blatant attempt to bring in Judy Garland for a little Oz resonance [yea, that too, the kitchen sync is coming surely]: Meet me in St. Louis. In exchange, Louise from St. Louis gets a Louis Vitton bag of her very own, and then proceeds to lose it [control of her mind, body and maybe, soul].

One: another mess of Louis’s there. Two: someone get that poor woman a change of underwear. Can’t say exactly why I’m including the first of the below scenes, but they drew a lot of attention to it. The clock reads 11:12. Misdirection maybe?

The second is a glowing octagon hexagon with a solar eclipse in it [one hand tween 9/10, the other 11/12]. As for the “bad guy,” he’s dressed in Black, eating “alone” for the benefit of the fan[atic]s of this show. You must suffer! You must Aton-e!

Judging by the blue lights on the windows though, he’s in a safe place. He’s got six points of light and a Fleur de Lis [Lily] by his side: a symbol attributed to Louis VI [though, some historians argue the VII; I'd be willing to bet money it's the 6th].

He’s doing better than the girls though. Carrie’s wearing her whore fur [yet another] and stupid disco ball hat, while she and her buddy toast in the New Year along with the idiots watching the television for the cue that’s it’s OK to celebrate with your friends now. God, how I hate how people insist on turning the TV to the ritual taking place in Times Square accompanied by the worst of the worst music.

Man kiss #2. I’ll spare you most of the pictures from the Fashion Show the girls attended, but may need to explain the one below. The quote is from SCTV’s parody of The Godfather. If you have never seen it, then you need to buy it, rent it, or steal it if you have to. It is the funniest 30 minutes of television ever.

What’s this? Are the producers of this show going to turn compassionate for a second and show the other side of the fur issue [the only side if you're "human"]?

As the glamorous whores descend the steps, SatanHam is greeted by some red paint thrown on the dead carcass she’s got draped around her. OK. Good so far. Is redemption around the corner [well, not really, if you consider how many animals were tortured and killed just to supply the wardrobe for this turdpile]?

Ooh, look how ugly and crazy the protesters look! Contort those faces like you’ve been paid to you actress prostitute wannabes! Oh, look how they pale to our made-up and stylish fur-laden whores [who are even shot at a "higher" camera level than the two "crazies," shot at downward angle]? The scene closes with a tripe little dismissive one-liner from SatanHam. I should have known better! The evil pricks that made this movie will take morality over money like … um … never.

The movie has now covered flowers, hearts, vaginas, and furs/pubes, and also blood/menstruation. Are there any other hole references it left out yet?

Back in the City of [fallen] Angels, SataHam is “preparing the fish” [literally] to surprise her lover boy. I thought the sculpture behind her seemed a little familiar, so I overlayed the Coco Channel logo from before directly over it. Voila! Perfect fit.

Note the flames on her shirt. Below, a little overkill. She’s got raw fish on top of her raw “fish.” But, it reminded me of Stygian Port’s comment about the Jesus “fish.” Well, if you rotate it 90 degrees, it does look like the CC logo, which looks a lot like a vagina. That’s a hell of a lot of fishes! [FYI: the image was not on the screen, but is an actual item available from some Jesus fish catalog.]

Stygian’s comment also pondered types of News Stories that make it to Page Six (pronounced “zex” in German), and he sent one from the New York Post about “Gay Porn Stars Servicing Elites at Parties.” I don’t have time to delve into the page number issue, but did find some sync-filled covers from Post’s weekly magazine.

One: [Coco] CHANEL I[the penis letter]MAN? The “next top model” may have been born with a penis. Fish and Chicks [can't make this shit up]? Vogue, of course.

Two: Why 60 “fall shoes?” Who names their daughter “Rumer?” Until recently, I was unaware that Willis was the girl in one of the pics from my condom exposé (it’s safe to assume anyone who puts a condom in/on their mouth is a complete idiot; hence not part of some “elite”). Banana Splits: girls love them (natürlich)!

Three: Hot Fuzz! Satan’s Naughty List? Why 60 “guy gifts?” Wait … a pink dot/hole from the front, and a black one from the rear? This clueless whore Whitney Port[hole] is “a former fashion contributor for Teen Vogue,” and in episode six of her TV show, she became a runway model for Fashion Week.

Vagina Day arrives. Also known as Valentine’s Day. VD! Venereal Disease. They’re all connected. More lesbian innuendos. “Last year, we were playing the other team,” gargles Carrie before the waitress asks what Miranda and “her girlfriend” will be having. Lily sends Carrie a Vagina card featuring Cinderella [above right].

So, with “Big” out of the picture, would the implication be that all Carrie has available to her now is a future “filled” by only small and medium? There was probably also a reason for the below lay-out. It’s too strategically arranged.

I’m growing tired of all the news about pending economic doom. Getting prepared is one thing, but stressing over the unavoidable is counter-productive. Thus, my mind now queues the following song every time I hear of the looming depression:

i remember back before it all became clear
the end wasn’t near
we were poor without fear
i remember times before it all became plain
we were young an insane
she liked to fuck in the rain
…
in hard times, in hard times {*4}

17 Again? [hm, wasn't the intent, but that resonates another "alleged," puh-lease, homosexual actor, Zach Effron]. Miranda’s answer below was to Carrie’s inquiry as to how long she’d been waiting. Secret Sun has a bunch of stuff about #17.

As Carrie debates whether to get into the chariot, driven by a red-turban wearing Arab, we are shown its grid-key resonant license plate: 9-11-19. {*5}

Note: The driver’s probably a Sikh, but most Americans can’t tell “sand niggers” apart. It is politically incorrect to say “nigger” in America now, unless you preface it with the word “sand;” it’s the new state-sponsored “in vogue” racism.

Time for couples counseling? The X-Box makes two reappearances. Feeling trapped there fellow? You should! I mean, after all, if you are in relationship “counseling,” it means your “relationship” is already over. You need to move on with your life, else you won’t advance as a soul. You will risk becoming either dependent, or someone else’s emotional prisoner. When the “X” speaks, you should listen!

I know the indoctrinated “believers” may consider me as pessimistic, because it’s easy to see everyone else’s “conditioning,” but a little harder to see our own.

Basically, they’re in counseling, because despite Miranda having 3 holes/gates (options): their utilization (or lack thereof) is failing to produce the proper chemical infusions or stimulus to their “relationship” [what they've likely been calling "love"]. To anyone who might accuse me of “reaching:” what the hell do you think the sculpture/art next to Steve represents? Why is the “little hole” off to the back?

Louise dons the red dress, and “gets lucky” [per her brainwashed mind]. Some idiot bought her a carbon rock to “prove” how much he loves her. Oddly, in my own bit of synchronicity, this was the 86th image I numbered for this series. That must mean it’s time for the token black woman to go (i.e., they’re 86‘ing Louise). {*6}

Any parting words? “Sisters, don’t forget to Bag, Borrow, or STEAL. I gots to go.” By the way girls, just because you’re wearing a wedding dress and get to be the center of attention [a princess] for a day, doesn’t make you any less of a whore. Thinking that one form of brainwashing is somehow “higher” than another is divisive, nonproductive and a sure path on the road leading away from gnosis.

I should probably address the prior topic in greater detail sometime, but in the meantime, feel free to share my whore deprogramming video with everyone who may need it. Next, a rather revealing/exploitative segment featuring Miranda. We can assume she [most likely] didn’t enjoy it: Cynthia Nixon is a lesbian.

Oh how far she’s gone from that innocent little girl below [left]. Well, somewhat innocent; if you consider appearing in a film about two virgin holes competing over who gets plugged first as “innocent” [that movie would be Little Darlings, starring O'Neal and McNichhole]. Alas, part i’s image of her prior dilemma makes sense. She was leaning back away from the penis with his hand outstretched, to the comfort/safety of the [familiar] vagina [as Raffi pointed out after part i].

Arc, from Synchromystics Forum, sent me an article aimed at older women who missed out on the Lindsey Lohan/Brittney Spears bisexuality promo [written by one vagina/hole suggestive Vicky Iovine]. In summary: “Men suck! After 40, you girls should choose to switch to women.” Wait! For years, the media said homosexuality wasn’t a “choice?” Oh, I [media entranced joe/betty] am so confused.

Moving on: lest I be accused of being sexist by my female readers, I will entreat you to a “little” cock to balance out the all the revealing female images. Though, its hard to make it through any film nowadays without seeing one. Satan-ham tries to learn The Secret [¿a serpentine S in a red dot/hole?], but is DIStracted by the cock.

Hello [spirit-trapping] grid pattern, followed by an all-too “on the mark” narration. Of course, “intelligent” people will fall for the distraction of the somewhat clever narrator’s statement of “Ever since she met Dante, Samantha was in Hell,” without realizing Dante was merely a guide [implying SatanHam was already there].

They’ll also fall for the ruse of SatanHam’s below statement, merely being a ploy for not acknowledging her pot-belly [as in pot-bellied pig], the result of her “pigging out,” to avoid, tun tun tun, “cheating.” But, could the truth of the matter be, that the reason she avoids mirrors, is for fear of seeing, that she is in fact, the beast?

Moving on from SatanHam, to the charlote. More great faces. Oops, her water broke. How many pairs of panties has this poor woman gone through in the movie?

It’s a girl! Pappa Pedobear, I mean Mr. Goldenblatt, announces, “It’s my Lot in life to be surrounded by beautiful women.” It sure is you sick bastard! So, they named the baby “Rose” and he “coincidentally” wore a rose-colored phallic tie for the event. “Anticipation. Anticipation. Is making me wait. Is keeping me waiting.”

By the way, that’s Evan “Handler.” I would have probably left out the below pic of Carrie’s grid-resonating pillow, had (a) it not made an appearance in so many shots, and (b) SatanHam’s Hell Hound not been shown humping it. I wonder how much such a fine pillow cost? “$300,” we are told. Another coincidental number.

The Simpsons’ “Lisa the Drama Queen” episode came back on Sunday, and even though I only watched a few minutes, I caught a few rather relevant things I missed in my first exhaustive look. One, would be the “grid” pattern being repeated, even more appropriately, over the bars of the cages the girls were put into, then locked.

The quote from the above “captor” was very deliberate, pausing at the precise moment: just substitute “the” for the pause and the intent of the writers was clear. “It” is what you call someone, such as a prisoner that you are dehumanizing. “It rubs the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again.”

Also not coincidental: one of the girls heads is starfish-shaped (i.e., an anus) and the other valentine-shaped (i.e., a vagina). The crossed “poles” behind them and the “split” shield/heart foreshadow the gang-rape the two “its” are due for. I guess I am guilty of underestimating the depths of depravity the Simpsons would sink to.

Holy Fucking Shit! Just after publication, I had missed the synchronicity of the above image following the preceding two. Hence, I had to modify and add to the original [left side, unaltered]; to enlighten you guys on what I missed [recall part i]. I also reviewed the scene, and captured and highlighted some oddly relevant parts [particularly those in brown] of Big’s prior e-mail [a "random" old poet's "love" letter]. Again, this can’t be unintentional [now recall someone else's old image].

Will Carrie get any of her orifices plugged by a “big” one ever again? Who cares! “Forever?” Why do we make such empty and meaningless promises to one another [well, I know exactly why, and hopefully, so do many of you -- if you don't, here's a hint: think "cinderella" and the other mind-fucks we were exposed to growing up]?

All the whores dolled up and back together again one last time. Finally, this movie is ending! Let’s do the right programmed thing and remind Sam she’s getting old and is gonna die within 10 to 15 years [give thanks to all the advances in modern medicine, cause our life-span is "increasing"]. These the same good friends, out of which none talked her out of chemotherapy? Where does the candle on the cake “tradition” come from anyway? Is it because “time is the fire in which we burn?”

SatanHam licks the hole! And she likes it! Hey Michaela, I think she likes it! So, now three of the girls had strong lesbian future suggestions. All but Charlotte. She’s of too much value to the elites. As long as she keeps pumping out pretty little flowers for them to play with, and remains completely oblivious to their fate, she can stay “straight,” “rich” and “happy” [earlier, she said she was always happy].

And we’re shown a new foursome before the credits roll. Out with the old whores, in with the new. Let’s see: we got a Jew, a Stylin Shiksa, a smart-ish redhead and a mysterious one, of whom we can only see the back of her head [probably all the director of casting could really see while he was "auditioning" her for the part].

However, I would guess they’re gonna at least put out one more movie starring the old whores; one more mega-promotion to sell some clothes, furs and degenerative programming. One last hurrah before they put these old whores out to pasture (or shoot them). After all, what use is an old whore?

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*1: Honestly, the only reason, even if she looks like this under normal conditions, they would ever let her look this bad, unless they are going overboard to make a point to those with eyes to see. “Glamour” as a mask came up in my Dark [k]Night set. [LB]

*2: If a woman’s goal is to have “power,” then she should rediscover the feminine spirit that makes her a “woman.” She ought to trace back the matriarchies of old, and learn what gave these woman their aura of dominance. A woman trying to be a man in a patriarchal world is the peak of idiocy, lunacy and futility. [LB]

*3: Side story. Was out wearing my “Praha” [Prague] shirt. Some cute girl called me over, saying “Look at you stylin in that Prada shirt.” I tried to explain it was the name of a city, and when I tried to tell her where it was (in the Czech Republic, i.e., “Europe”), she stopped me: “I don’t know where no Pra-Ga is, I ain’t go to no college.”

How sad! First of all, you don’t need to go to “no college” to have some idea where Prague/Europe is. Even worse: she probably knows every good slave brand name and what it costs, but hasn’t a clue where she is on this planet. [LB]

*4: The “Hard Times” song is by Paul Kelly [and the Messengers], an extremely talented song-writer. I’ve actually met him on a couple of occasions, and have an amusing story or two to tell. Buy me beer and I’ll spill them. [LB]

*5: It would also be safe to assume combining a 9-11 with an Arabesque man in NYC is also a subtle trauma reminder for the mAsses [of "why we need them"]. [LB]

*6: Stygian’s the only blogger I’d seen look at 86. The number of images that I end up with has, and not always through conscious effort on my part, taken on mystic significance. The prior one had 63. My article on Obama had 44. As Aferrismoon spun the 19, my exploration of same had 61. For what it’s worth: this one had 77. [LB]

I got wrapped up in and ended up watching the entire Sex and the City movie. Believe it or not [well, I guess you gotta believe it now], it merits its own write-up. Also, I needed to give my head a brief respite from the complex mental puzzle that is the present series, and also recover from the psychic warfare it brought on.

Surprisingly, this movie has a smattering of substance in it, and as you’ll soon see, is loaded with all the elements I’ve come to expect from multi-million dollar social engineering products. It also connects in a remarkable amount of ways with my present direction. Of course, it was made by HBO.

The reason HBO’s series have won so many awards, is not because of what we’ve been conditioned to accept as “quality.” Industry awards are given for social engineering and mass mind-control. HBO, or as I like to call it, “h-b-hoe,” merits its own write-up [one day, maybe] for the detrimental effect it has had on society.

Within seconds of seeing the above “gang sign,” the standard theme songs suddenly switches, and my ears were barraged with one horrific song by some woman name Fergie. I have since learned she’s the lead singer of a popular band called Black-Eyed Peas, hence the same whore responsible for millions of young women (children too), running around singing about their “lovely lady lumps.”

To me, the song was like hearing nails on a chalk-board. Here are the [dyslexic] lyrics as written by for the above young lady soulless prostitute:

Gucci, Fendi, Prada purses, purchasing them finer things
Men they come a dime a dozen, just give me them diamond rings
I’m into a lot of bling, Cadallic, Chanel and Coach
Fellas boast but they can’t really handle my female approach
Buying things is hard to say
Rocking Christian Audigier, Manolo, Polo, taking photos in my Cartier
So we can’t go all the way, I know you might hate it but
I’m a shop for labels while them ladies lay and wait for love

And, I’m not concerned with all the politics
It’s a lot of men I know I could find another one.

I know I might come off as negative
I be looking for labels, I ain’t looking for love
And, ballin’s something that I’m fed up with
I’mma do the damn thing, watch me do the damn thing
Cause I know that my credit card will help me put out the flames

“Flames?” “Damned?” Interesting! The show, I guess, has been accused of, in the mainstream media chit-chat realm (i.e., as spoken by idiots in a language idiots can easily understand; in other words, at a notch or so higher than the above lyrics), as pornography for women. There’s a slight truth in that. Far more damaging, in my opinion, is the whorification of women via commercialism.

I’m actually having a hard time seeing the difference between the first “Sex in the Shitty” cover and the Cosmopolitan. 3 Fabulous “Love” Holes? [If you haven't read my latest series, you must.] A “four hour” porno? Are you kidding me? Then again, this movie clocked in at just over 2.5 hours [actually, two hours and 33 minutes, to be exact]. Note the Time Out cover says “pork.” “We vagina sex???”

The above young lady [reflected] in the glass has come to the city (I guess the implication is she’s looking for labels and love). She’s tempted by [yet another] woman in a red dress holding a fistful of whore diamonds. Below, more “labels” tempt her, or is she subconsciously realizing she is looking at part of herself?

In case there’s anyone left out there who’s still clueless as to what the Coco Chanel logo represents, I think the below makes it abundantly, and indisputable clear:

And here’s Carrie wearing a ridiculous dress. Is that an X-box behind her? Maybe.

Wearing that dress in the middle of the day, for no good reason, does scream, “Look at me! I need attention!” And a cute redhead notices her. [Not so] oddly, it happens precisely as Carrie narrates the words “looking for love.”

The letters are coming together. What will they spell? What will they “spell?”

Some girl begins beating up some boy because he “cheated” on her or something meaningless like that. Interesting last name there, Ivan/Evan “handler.”

Note the submissive position assumed by the man as the woman towers over him. Feminist emasculation bullshit. I’ve been seeing more and more emotional aggressive girls getting violent in public. Carrie doesn’t even notice it, and I think that was intentional. It shows how unaware she is, and sets up the shot to follow.

The girls meet up. They’re probably saying something stupid like, “Why are all the good looking men gay?” I’m sure whatever comes out of their mouths on the subject will be regurgitated “opinions” and not a one will guess as to the agenda their sponsor (HBO), and they themselves are mindlessly promoting.

The credits/transitions do take on a rather “devilish” color pattern of hooks and horns, no? Maybe I’m reaching, but “Charlotte” does conjure up “Scarlett.”

Oddly enough, while looking up the movie on IMDB, in the bottom section, where it said, “if you enjoyed this title, our database also recommends:” Rosemary’s Baby! Hello Hollywood ["welcome mind-fuck"]? Also, a little 88/HH resonance. Zig Heil!

And just when Carry says “big,” we are shown her hand outstretched. At least the Porkher porno cover is much more honest than this movie’s “subtle” implications. Yeah, it’s cause he’s “hugely” wealthy! No. We can assume he’s well-endowed.

Speaking of, has it ever occurred to anyone else out there, that almost every time you see devils depicted in art, they are “swinging low,” while angels are usually painted/sculpted as being “hung like gerbils?” Hm. Methinks, I’d rather reign in hell than serve in heaven. And why is there an “R” next to the devil man?

Alas, the movie officially starts. Mr. Big ["hang low ... sweet chariot"] and Carrie go apartment hunting. The first apartment we see them go to is “3C” [i.e., 33]. Big asks how many apartments have they already looked at so far, and Carrie informs him this one would be “the 33rd”. Before the doors in the ELavator close, he quips:

The apartment turns out to be a disappointment, but a chance listing appears. Chris @ Secret Sun may appreciate it being on the 17th floor. Note, it’s the “real” 17th floor, as this building does have a 13th floor [my building in NYC didn't].

For some odd reason, the jukebox inside my skull just queued up “The Penthouse and the Pavement,” by Heaven 17 ["talk and talk, no time, night time, burnt inside"]. Worth a note, the band got its name from Kubrick’s Clockwork Orange: the record store scene where Alex asks the two girls if they liked “Heaven 17.”

Here comes the night time, here comes my role
Goodbye to the pavement, hello to my soul

Anytime at all
As you face the wall
God make it this time or never at all
Before your chance has gone
Captain this lead role and you’ll be the one
Shine and shine
This time, my time
Make me free at last

Hence, at this 34th place, they cross a checkerboard floor, then pass through the two pillars [presumably Joachim and Boaz], under the capstoneless pyramidal arch, and super-rich [and very likely, illuminated] Señor Big [penis] says, “So, this is where they keep the light.” Too much! What’s up with the mirror in the corner?

I think there is an implication there are degrees above the 33rd which is not the end of the cycle, but the start of a new. It’s something I’ve long suspected. But, why share this? The profane won’t see any of this however. They’ll just think, “What a lovely well-lit apartment. How lucky!” Luck’s got nothing to do with it!

The girls meet up at Christie’s, yet as they are shown walking, the letters (which they pass twice), que the mind to read C-H-R-I-S-T [¿QRST Eugene?]. For the slower minds, we see SAmANTha in a bright Luciferean yellow, with the full word above her head. Note the lighting bolt/light descending pattern over her breasts.

Christ Empire? I may be reaching, but my mind combined it (something’s there). If you think about it, the “Christ Empire” is exactly what the Roman Empire became when they pulled the bait and switch, from Sword and Legion, to Cross and Fire.

Aww, look how cute they are. All the whores completely spell-bound by a bunch of worthless carbon rocks. Glass beads and baubles. Weren’t the Native Americans allegedly screwed over via lures of similar “value?” Syncing a little too well with my Fire series, SAmANTha just happens to be bidder number 666 at CHRISTie’s.

The beauty of the game, is that idiots [even many who worked on this production] will beLIEve that the reason for the number was that Sam is the proud slut. Thus, they’ll reason the 69 implies some stupid sexual act. So easy to MANipulate the sheep into beLIEving whatever you wish them to; all the while, they’re busy patting themselves on the back for being so damn clever.

Now, some truly subtle sexual implications that will go right past the conscious mind of the average audience/fan[atic] of the show. Carrie’s husking a corn-cob while Big’s slicing a tomato. How cute! Speaking of, there’s only one juicy little tomato out of the whole rotten bunch this Rebel wouldn’t mind “slicing” into: Charlotte.

What? Yet another woman in a red dress resonating five? {*1} In the next scene, Carrie’s wedding announcement appears on Page Six, next to a story about grid resonant Mularkin M. Why does it also say “Who’s Your Daddy?”

Carrie takes her Vagina to “the office” at Vogue [the value in Hebrew Gematria of V is 6]. Vogue is also ground zero, the headquarters, of Anna Wintour’s ongoing and well-funded [bloody] promotion of the dead skins of tortured animals.

That seals the deal: Carrie is dumb whore paid by a death-promoting whore. If you have been brainwashed that wearing the skins of tortured animals, who were either clubbed to death (if they were lucky), else genitally/anally electrocuted, is somehow chic/stylish, then you are an insensitive stupid fucking whore yourself. Ciao!

I think the dude mother-fucker above should be aiming his club in a different direction. Hey Shithead! Back and to the left! Back and to the left.

We’re then treated to/tortured by an extensive/excessive fashion shoot of Carrie in wedding dresses, accompanied by more mindless dribbles passed off as music.

A fur wedding dress? Are you fucking kidding me? Maybe it will mask the stench of that foul-smelling hole between her legs? Anyway, students of the occult may want to just lower the volume and watch the sequence. There was a lot of weird stuff going on in it. At least two of the designers had names conjuring up the grid: Viviane Westwood and Vera Wang. Yea, lots of V’s and W’s. Whore-tastic!

Now I’m feeling like a queen, I love your eyes on me
My hair is blowing in the wind I’m so sexy and free
And when my make-up is on I feel like a rock-star
The sun is shining on me oh yes, I’m living large

The above musical lyrics whore programming instructions are from the photoshoot. Here’s a few interesting pics of the [¿oh what's that word for a morally bankrupt woman that rhymes with oar?] allegedly responsible for writing them, Ciara:

By the way, do you think my alternate title, “More Whores Than You Could Shake a Stick At,” would have been a better moniker for this exploration? The closing shot of her “spinning” on a checkerboard floor, speaks to not only Masonic/Templar themes [pretty obvious already], but also to direct mind-control [of her].

I figured out [due to his name being promoted on a chair], Patrick Demarchelier, was the photographer featured in the segment. Apparently, Vogue uses him quite often, so we can assume he doesn’t mind being paid in blood money. The following photographs of his, not only tie into the themes here, but are rather “interesting.”

Oh my God! Jesus! No warning! They just sprang the below shot on us without so much as a hint it was coming? Had I known they were going to show Carrie in her undies, I could have ripped my eyeballs out of my skull and still be OK. Too late!

From the front too? Oh man. They might as well just show us her hole now. Um, I was just kidding. Please don’t! These two scenes must be on some continuous loop in one of those Gitmo torture rooms. Sorry I had to share them. My eyes are already polluted, as are yours, so please don’t rip out your eyeballs! It’s too late.

Time to indoctrinate Charlotte’s poor little daughter with the [requisite] Cinderella mind-fuck. Maybe you’ll meet a prince, and maybe, that degenerate inbred piece of shit will take you to his dungeon and torture you. But, only if you’re “lucky” and he notices you. Is that pork [again]? Bad Jew Carrie! Bad [converted] Jew Charlotte!

Time for the “girl talk” sequence. The “SEX” part the audience is dying for. But, all the girls want to know about “Big.” How is he “in the sack?”

What the hell’s that supposed to mean? He may be of significant dimensions, but it’s safe to assume he’s not tearing her vagina apart. Wait a minute. He’s a back door man! Geez. The Porker poster again proves itself a 100 times more honest. Speaking of cock. Looks like Samantha’s about to get some “sex” in the city.

Nope. Sorry honey. Instead of a [useful] hard cock, you get a worthless pile of carbon rocks. Unless she’s planning on drilling through solid rock, whore diamonds, one of the most abundant of stones on this earth, are pretty much useless. She’d have been better off getting a cock and the accompanying stones instead.

Carrie gets something a better [as far as the industry paying for this movie are concerned]: the ideal closet to store all her whore shoes and whore purses. Bliss!

Now time for some masturbation material for the fans. The girls are gonna play dress-up. Sam kicks it off with the “Best of the Eighties.” Her eyes remain closed through the whole sequence of hitting “play” to starting to dance, while one of the absolute worst songs of the eighties plays, one by Aerosmith [technically, 70's].

Her eyes being closed, to me, signifies, she’s yet another lazy idiot, who, rather than take the time to discover some of the truly amazing and original music that came out of that period (Joy Division, the Jam, X, the Smiths, the Pixies, etc) for herself, would rather let some record company dictate her tastes and tell her what “the best” was. As one should expect from shit-sellers, mindless uncreative degenerative bands products like Aerosmith and Madonna fit that bill.

Do you like Carrie’s Devil Dress? Oh yea, another reminder that “big” is “large” (and coming at her from behind). Note the two M’s in the second shot [above]. Ben @ Pseudo-Occult Media ought to get a out kick of the cat-suit. Can you say “What the Fuck?” Why does the little girl have to come out naked?

That just rubbed me the wrong way. Maybe they thought it’d be “cute?” But, after I mentioned this to my sister, she was troubled by it too. She summarized that this show, from start to finish is about selling product [as I've said before, commercials strung together by the semblance of plot]. The show’s own modus operandi dictates the little girl would have to come out modeling some ridiculously expensive designer dress for children. So, just what the hell are they selling us here?

“Fashion show” over. Time for the whores to dance to some truly awful music [the only song on the "best of" compilation was "Walk this Way"]. Argh! What hopes does this poor little girl have of growing up to be in any way functional?

Now another reminder, that the best of the whores on this show, Charlotte, was reserved for the fat bald Ashkenazi. Must you rub our face in it? Across town, Big’s concerned about the wedding. Interesting he’d use the word “circus.” But, it’s not because of the cost. He’s concerned about what people may think of him.

He’s then shown descending the stairs with prison bars to his right. Wow, a positive message about how concern over the perceptions of others entraps us! Everyone settled in, SAmANTha then toasts the couple, with this little intro [while wearing/being choked by a "cube collar" that speaks volumes to the aware]:

Aaaaaaaaaaaargh! Exactly! “We!” She summed it up right there. Exactly why I hate this fucking show, and exactly why it, more than any other show in history, has directly reduced how often I get laid. Screw individuality. We are moving to collectivism. I will expand on it when I finally write “Romance is Dead.” {*2}

Why are they outside I wondered? Ah, yes, it’s because New York City is a fascist state that dictates whether you are “free” to smoke at a bar. Yep, am reminded I also need to write up the article tearing the anti-smoking buffoons a new one.

Why is Miranda shown halfway between a cock and a vagina? Maybe it will make sense later? Time for the wedding. I thought it was kind of odd how they were all wearing such strikingly different colors (one looked purple). Didn’t make sense until I heard the effemiman dictate they must enter the vehicle in the following order:

That’s the order of Masonic degrees: the blue, followed by the red, followed by the black. The whole scene actually plays out like some weird bizarre ritual; one that will go over the heads of 99.9% of the viewers, while a select few appreciate it for what it is. Last color: white. The part I’m troubled/confused about, is why they felt the need to draw [more] attention to it, with effemiman’s follow-up statement? .

Had Charlotte’s husband not said “she looks like a princess,” I probably would not have gone back and rewound to catch the disturbing shot below. I’d excuse the hand placement as meaningless, were it not for the prior image of said girl, and the weird con-junction of “daddy’s” arm and that of the shadowy stranger at the elbow.

How could a mother let such things transpire in her own house? Well the accompanying image of Charlotte suggests ignorance or mind-control [¿butterfly overkill?]. I know I still don’t have a strong case, so I went back to look for other “signs.” The below image is what we are shown after Scarlet [¿hm?], previously immersed in her paper, squeals about Carrie’s wedding announcement:

What was he up to before Charlotte looked? Why’s his hand located where it is? Why did the paper in the shot immediately before say “Who’s Your Daddy?” And why is it, in almost every shot of Soon-Yi, I mean Lily [her name], she is accompanied by the red five-pointed star flower? [Anyone know what the other thing is?]

night after night she lay alone in bed
her eyes so open to the dark
the streets all looked so strange
they seemed so far away
but charlotte did not cry

After I subconsciously mistyped Scarlet for Charlotte above, the jukebox rang up “Charlotte Sometimes,” by the Cure, a song about dissociation/child abuse. {*3} Finally, there is the tell-tale sad forlorn faraway look in her face below. Case closed! It’s safe to conclude Lily is being abused, and that Charlotte was once too.

If the shoe fits? Moving on, Carrie’s own Cinderella day falls apart and she then attacks the groom. Again, more inconsequential female on male violence. Ever so subtly though, for those who are willing to listen, Carrie screams “I am humiliated” in the middle of the scene; again, the trap/prison of the manufactured ego.

There was probably something symbolic in the way the flowers were shattered over his head again and again, but it escapes me. We’re then treated to some great Charlotte faces. That first shot looks right out of Invasion of the Body Snatchers. The last does imply an almost manic lesbian like jealousy/possession quality.

We’ll have to wait and see if more of that is to come. I’m breaking this up into two pieces due to the total number of images I ended up with. It shouldn’t be too long before big part two follows up in arrears [sounds like, "carrie's rear"].

For what it’s worth, I know I’ve thrown the word “whore” around quite a bit here. It was not my intent, to besmirch the name of any of the well-meaning women out there, who due to circumstance of economic stress or forced coercion, happen to be working in the sex trade. As for any women, who’s goal in life is the acquisition of diamonds, purses or shoes, if I have offended you, well … I couldn’t care less.

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*1: Just thought of another “Red 5:” the one from Star Wars. This theme, and many others herein, have been addressed/explained in detail in my Fire Series. [LB]

*2: I know that may be confusing for some, and I do hope to expand on it. I touched on the issue in my other series regarding hammers and anvils. Basically, on top of all the impossible nonsense media-fabricated checklists one real man can’t possibly live up to, this show now adds more women and more lists to the equation. No “individual” could ever get the approval of 4 women. [LB]

*3: Must say, it is strange how I’ve developed the ability pull nonlocally connected items from the aethers. The song “Charlotte Sometimes” was released between “Faith” and “Pornography.” The single’s b-side is “Splintered in Her Head” [and Lily was played by two different children]. The Cure, sorry to disappoint fans, were, in my opinion, directly fed/controlled by the Cult of Dionysus [or some other occult order]. The song itself is based on “a children’s novel by Penelope Farmer, published in 1969.” [LB]