"It's Like the Beatles"

{Le chien est le meilleur ami de l'homme}


Maniac creature with gigantic teething


Pay attention to that killing machine


Staring (at) me with eyes of hate


And growling like a truck engine


Appeared from nowhere


Barking and foaming


Having a terrible urge (To) Grub my ass


(And) Shred my balls


There's only one solution if I don't want to die


It's to run! Run! Run! Run!


Scared to be devoured


Running for my life


If I am lucky


I'll get out alive!


Fucked


"Black Dog" (Fate)



___________________




Crummy translation, but you get the idea.


Oh . . . and that "running" stuff?

Good luck. Can't outfoot this beast. It's in the very air.

Face it.


On October 1, 2007, London's Tower Bridge spread, hailing Jackal Anubis, Epyptian God of the Dead, as he barged into the West, rod of power held forth in ownership.



Supposedly, the "model" is advertisement for a London exhibit called Tutankhamun and the Golden Age of the Pharaohs.''




Anubis is associated with the masonic Eye of Horus. Wikipedia reports:




No public procession in Egypt would be conducted without an Anubis to march at the head, the "go-between" of gods and men. The ancient Egyptians swore "by the Dog" when making oaths they would not break.



No public procession without Anubis at the head -- meaning the "parade" is just beginning.



Like Anubis, Belial is part beast, featuring prominently in key Qumran scrolls, especially the War Scrolls.


Sons of darkness, sons of light, winner take all. Jerusalem expresses it architecturally below -- the basalt block is meant to represent Belial and his lot, the nipplish dome the righteous.

















Today also new footage of "Diana's Final Hours" was released. Some bloggers have theorized, fairly persuasively, that her death was blood-ritualized murder for occult-energetic purposes, a la Downard on JFK.


Speaking of hatching snakes and old business, here's "Archbishop" Desmond Tutu -- Chairman of the Global Elders -- mewling about how the world's Last Hope is that women depose Failed Men, and rule our endangered planet under kinder, gentler guise.



Ever been to Walmart during a DVD Player Sale, Toots?



Don't get out much, do you?


In, either. Why don't you check with The Goddess and discover what bright ideas she has. Get back to me on that, OK? Be sure to learn ASL!


;O)




You sure you've been baptized?


You're not an Elder, Desmond. You're just old.


Think the "Archbishop" merely pursues an unachievable Loonie Leftie agenda?


First lady praises 'sisterhood' of female business owners




"With 10 million business owners in America, when it comes to entrepreneurship, it's increasingly becoming a woman's world ... and the sisterhood just keeps growing."



Yeah. So does a staph infection.

This from the party supposedly running against Hitlery. Sure.



Or:



In Basra, vigilantes wage deadly campaign against women



By Jay Price and Ali Omar al Basri, McClatchy Newspapers Thu Oct 4, 5:03 PM ET


BASRA, Iraq — Women in Basra have become the targets of a violent campaign by religious extremists, who leave more than 15 female bodies scattered around the city each month, police officers say.


The article goes on breathlessly to insinuate that females are the main victims of violence in Iraq, and that "religious extremists" wage constant war against their own women, singling them out for atrocities.


Want a bodycount gender-breakdown from Iraq? It will not support the bias and propaganda of the Western matri-media.


Conned. Monkeywrenched. Hoodwinked. The pressure is extremely subtle but relentless for the Global Gynasty.


And who's the King of 'Nasty?

















Be-lial.


That sleek reek is Dead Dog, come sniffing around the Remains of the West.

















And there was a famine in the land, beside the first famine that was in the days of Abraham. And Isaac went unto Abimelech king of the Philistines unto Gerar.

And the LORD appeared unto him, and said, Go not down into Egypt; dwell in the land which I shall tell thee of.

(Genesis 26: 1-2)



Abimelech was a common, perhaps generic, name for Philistine kings/kingship. During the period of the Judges, before Israel had kingship proper, self-styled ur-king Abimelech enslaved Israel from his HQ at Shechem.


Shechem denotes Egypt, especially in its spirituo-generic sense. Chem or Khem means darkened or black. The ancient name for Egypt is Khem.






















The philologic relation of Chem to chemistry and its father alchemy connotes the magico-ancestral relation of Egypt and Babylon with grand astro-architectural foci (Giza; the Tower and Gardens). The extended nigredo phase of alchemy is "the blackening," and its profane purpose transformation of "base metals" (typically lead) into gold.



The demon Abimelech ruled Shechem, a "dominion" conquered with connivance from his mother's brothers. RED FLAG, in modern parlance. Red Dragon, in anachron.



This is the archetypal Maternal Uncle, the Flint-Knife Psycho of old, acting as an extension of the "Goddess" (the extant, though amorphous, matriarchal orders) that terrorized early human groups, engaging in mass torture, despoilation, and human sacrifice, especially of children. In the Egyptian pantheon, the chief Mother's Brother is Set (Satan in Christianity.)



J.J. Bachofen, the almost-unknown Swiss scholar and author of the magnificent Myth and Mother Right, writes succinctly concerning the aboriginal/primal Maternal Uncle, a figure now institutionalized throughout the West as the State, overseen by high Ma/Sonic placements. Ma-Son-ry is, of course, the Terrifying Uncle in modern guise, who rules occultly via coercion and fear, as the "Builders" of Babylon and Egypt. Butcher Bill and Tammany in Scorcese's Gangs of New York.





Abimelech and the Mother's Brothers are the principal adversaries of the Biblical Yah. The demon and Co. gather their forces at Shechem (= feminine sorcery), then slaughter their seventy half-brothers (i.e., the paternal line) at Ophrah.



[Yuup. She's that old! Creeps outta her hidey hillhole like a scorpion enmooned.]



:O)



The powerful and primal alliance between the Maternal Uncle clan and the Goddess/matriarchy/female collective was common knowledge to ancient philosophers, scholars, prophets, and other wingnuts.



In our modern world, the alliance is occulted -- it is the background muzak of Western culture, just beyond consciousness, scraping faintly at our cerebellums, impugning and denying God, poisoning our institutions, crushing masculinity, and enacting quite remunerative vengeance whilst preaching family values or diversity.



Now that's showbiz!



It's the regressive urge for Mother to make it all Right, jungle serpents and tribal brethren that never broke from Mommy -- and never will.



It's war, and it just sailed through the wide-open legs of Queen Brittania, into your living room and noggin.



Come sniffing back for its Koh-i-Noor?



Hail Anubis, King of Carrion! Hail Belial, two-tongue trickster!


Is that Yoo I see Chairman TooToo? Floating regally, piercing the virgin water of the West, Wand of Horus before you, conquering host behind?



Whassup with the was, Toots?



Gonna crack somebody with that snotknocker?


As events play out, remember: it is not only humanity that's at risk, but all the creatures of Earth. They wait to love and be loved, trusting in the ultimate goodness of human beings.

The enemy is the greatest intelligence ever created. Intelligence ain't everything, tho.


Smoothly smoothly, gently bobbing, slides the past into the present. Charming.


Will George Bush be put forward?


Don't be silly. Used goods.


A Teflon Model, an unassailable and unimpeachable figure, will be poked across the checkerboard, dancing the Tessellation Twostep. Someone known and generally trusted, yet someone whose past cannot be smelted into a weapon by enemies. Hilary Clinton. Desmond Tutu. So forth.


Mother Teresa's dead. Darn.


Mebbe they'll revive her, eh?



Finally, to round out this Inaugural Squaredance Procession of Death, an example -- rather randomly discovered and chosen -- of the "atmospheric pervasiveness" of Anubis the Prosecutor, of Belial the False, silvertongued destroyer.



'Hannah Montana' concert tix too hot


10/01/2007 11:36 AM, AP


The Police, Justin Timberlake or Bruce Springsteen. The undisputed hottest concert ticket of the year is for 14-year-old pop star Miley Cyrus, star of the Disney Channel's "Hannah Montana" TV show.


Fans are so desperate for seats to her 54-date tour, kicking off later this month, that venues have sold out in as little as four minutes and scalpers are getting four to five times the face value — creating a torrent of complaints from frustrated parents.


"We knew it was hot, but we had no idea it was this crazy," said Debra Rathwell, senior vice president of AEG Live, which is handling her tour. "It's like the Beatles."



Indeed. And hedgehog shit is like chocolate mousse.



A mildly talented child actress with a bubblegum sitcom outdraws some of the greatest artists in the world -- people who have struggled and suffered for their pearls, not personalities and spinoffs manufactured by cynical, greedy, sterile networks.


Two problems. Uno. If non-substance is lavishly rewarded, substance doesn't bother. Leaves town. Extrapolate the near consequences.



Dos-o. God creates beings out of intention and love. Each being is invested with unique qualities, contributory and complementary to the whole, appearances occasionally otherwise.


To enshrine Miley Cyrus disservices both God and Miley. Miley, handed fame and riches without merit, is cheated of earning her accomplishments, of developing true character.




The Beyonce Syndrome.


God is cheated in his aims for Miley, and also in his purposes for those he created to comfort, teach, heal, and enspirit with song -- those whose dues have been paid.


Anubis, Eye of Horus. Horus, Age of the Child.

As Philip Kindred Dick illustrates in his inspiring and amazing The Divine Invasion, Belial is the Spirit of Dis(spiritment) -- the Spirit of illusion and artifice. A world under Belial's power (that'd be this world, folks) has lost its ability and desire for what is REAL (however imperfect), instead settling for the Pretty Illusion and Comfy Lie.

We cry at old movies but permit torture. We exhibit courage and daring at the vid console, but fail to make war on the substantive evil of the actual world. Hannah Montana is equivalent to the Beatles.

Anubis, fake as a six-dollar-bill, sails into our lands and psyches. God who made all REAL things is ignored, unknown, and worse. The species disappear and the earth writhes while we twitch in webs of cotton candy. No wonder Bobs wants to "overturn these tables/disconnect these cables."


Fourteen-year-old girls steer America, shape the West. They're just as capable as men, right? Men, foul men, who cause all the wars, oppress the weak, and ruin the planet. Now it's Our Turn, says Sis Dis.


Bye bye Miss American Pie.


Golden blackness, floating in on an idol tide. Scavenging. Substanceless as Ho-Hos. (L.D. prefers Ding-Dongs!)


Nothingness, gilded and empowered.


We have gone down, down into Egypt.



____________________________



Addendum(b) -- the above post was finally edited and uploaded on Oct. 5, at which time the following two Yahoonews stories appeared with relevant "black" themes.



Rice issues new rules for Blackwater USA



Condo has landed in Da Black Whole previously.


This time she's supposedly reining in the corporo-mercenaries of Iraq.

So, at taxpayer expense, feds will guard the private guards who are guarding the diplomats. While folks sleep in America's streets.



Spooks within spooks within spooks. Makes damn good sense!



Blackwater USA boasts execs like Joseph Cofer Black. The business of war.



However, given the Anubis Biz supra, along with a very recent tip concerning Bob Dylan's film masked and anonymous -- which documents a post-revolutionary, imminent Multicultural Madland America -- the A.P. headline above got my attention: "new rules" made by a powerful black female overseeing a "Blackwater USA."





Blackwater USA's logo is a lion or panther-paw (Black Panther?) within an ocular-shaped, red field.



















[The paw is usually presented in black. L.D. has already ordered his Blackwater Ballcap!]



Leonine/feline paw. Blackwater. Vengeance and "propitiatory" blood-rites.



Souds like Sekhmet, a.k.a. Bast or the Scarlet Lady, in honor of her bloodlust. The lioness/cat Goddess of ancient Egypt who protected pharaoh. She'd probably chum right up to Anubis.




Wait'll you see the last piece, below.


Is that Charles the Jackal, the Race Warlock, snickering in his cell? Some voices can't be bound, riding the frigid waves.



Helter Skelter in a summer swelter
the birds flew off for the fallout shelter


(Don McLean)




Wikipedia sniffs:


November 2006 Blackwater USA announced it recently acquired an 80-acre (30 ha) facility 150 miles (240 km) west of Chicago, in Mount Carroll, Illinois to be called Blackwater North. That facility has been operational since April 2007 and serves law enforcement agencies throughout the midwest.




"Blackwater North." Catchy.


Mebbe L.D. can secure employ there. He's in the Masonry Repair Line!



Choo-Choo! Coming through!



:O)



Finally, here's another A.P. release by Sam Gross. It's Sufficiently Weird to post in full:




Dedication at NYC African Burial Ground

By SAMANTHA GROSS, Associated Press Writer


Fri Oct 5, 7:10 PM ET

NEW YORK - It was a day that had been a long time coming, and for the community leaders who gathered Friday to dedicate a memorial at the once-forgotten grave site of thousands of African slaves, it was also a day of regret.

"Forgive us for disregarding your precious gifts to this world," the Rev. James A. Forbes Jr. said to the long-dead slaves and free blacks who were interred beneath lower Manhattan, then forgotten for decades as the city sprouted skyward above their remains.

[boldface added; WTC, of course, but also recall that the neo-apocalyptic Gangs of New York is set in Lower Manhattan's Five Points neighborhood.]

Many speakers at the African Burial Ground memorial lamented the lack of recognition those buried there had experienced in life and after death, and vowed to make the memorial a permanent reminder of their sacrifices.

Sixteen years after the remains were rediscovered, onlookers lined two city blocks on Friday for a chance to file through "The Door of Return." The entryway is named in contrast to the door of no return, the title once given to departure points where slaves were stolen away from their African homelands.

Walking through the narrow, reflective-granite structure, the memorial's first visitors stepped out into a sunken court engraved with a map of the lands and waters that once supported the slave trade, as well as the identifying details of some of the women, men and children buried nearby.

"Bid 'em in," poet Maya Angelou sang to the crowd assembled for the dedication, telling the story of the auctioning of a young girl, stripped nude on the block.

"All of us are being 'bidded in' according to how we forget you," she said to those interred beneath seven grassy mounds alongside the memorial. "And we will not forget you."

Mayor Michael Bloomberg told those assembled that forgetting might sometimes seem the easier route. New York City thrived during the slave trade and much of the early metropolis was built with slave labor.

The construction workers who stumbled across the site "brought to light one of the most uncomfortable and tragic truths in the history of our city," Bloomberg said. "Part of atoning for such a terrible injustice is to acknowledge it."

The Manhattan site was declared a national monument last year. At the dedication ceremony, Lt. Gov. David Paterson decried the lack of a national memorial in Washington, D.C., to mark the sacrifices slaves made throughout the nation.

About half the skeletons unearthed at the site were those of children under the age of 12. The vast majority died as a result of violence, Paterson said.

Performances by dancers in slavery-era costume and drummers in traditional garb punctuated the ceremony. Actor Avery Brooks performed a spoken-word piece, and the trio Three Mo' Tenors gave a sorrowful rendition of "Make Them Hear You," from the musical "Ragtime." Actor Sidney Poitier joined in a processional through the site.

It was not always clear whether the grave site, much of which is still undisturbed beneath several square blocks of office towers, would be marked. When the skeletons were first discovered, protesters called on the government to stop construction of an office building planned for the spot.

After archeologists unearthed the bones of 419 individuals, there were numerous delays as the remains were studied and researchers and the government fought over funding. Eventually, the bones were placed in hand-carved caskets and buried in crypts alongside what is now the memorial. The project cost more than $50 million.

Organizers are still hoping to add a museum, which is in the planning phase.

Mass disinterrment of bones. "Bidding in" by a black female. Door of Return?!

"Return?" Who authorized that? Anubis?

Fuck Anubis. Ain't no kin of mine.

Yes, Slavery Really Was Horrible (tm). Hell, it is horrible.

However, most of the people that built New York -- of all colors -- were slaves, or near-slaves, including the Irish in the mid-nineteenth-century.

Something, a lot of Somethings, is not right here. Somehow the legitimate grief, emphathy, and resolution ring false here. A false atonement, covering Something Else.

The stripped girl -- on top of the slave-guilting itself -- now, that was Genius. Virtually irresistible. Reminds me of you-know-who.

Could be Rong, o'course, been Rong many times, but somehow we're getting a picture of Charles Manson in the bed of Anubis with Condo Ricecakes.

I didn't say it was pretty. Just a picture. Thousand words of years.

Guess I shoulda titled this one "Anubis, Sekhmet, and the Door of Return."

But then, perhaps "It's Like the Beatles," still applies, whatever It ends up being. World famous. Super rich. Immensely powerful and influential.

Belial.

Don't suppose It'll be long now.