Da Black Whole

Tuesday, December 04, 2007

A Chelsea Morning





I remember you well at the Chelsea Hotel
You were talkin' so brave and so sweet


(Chelsea Hotel #2, Leonard Cohen)









Ride the snake


He's old and his skin is cold
The west is the best
the west is the best
Get here and we'll do the rest


The blue bus is calling us
The blue bus is calling us

Driver, where you taking us?


(The End, Jim-bow)



Dig it. Dyno bonez all over the West! The New Mexico Department of Tourism Seel of Approval!



'Monster' Arctic reptile remains found 48 minutes ago



OSLO, Norway - Remains of a bus-sized prehistoric "monster" reptile found on a remote Arctic island may be a new species never before recorded by science, researchers said Tuesday.



Shitfire they found it 48 mins. ago and already it's Recorded!


:O)



The short-necked plesiosaur was a voracious reptile often compared to the Tyrannosaurus rex of the oceans.



Well then. That is Serious. Plesiosaur Rampage. Call Zoo Tycoon Too!


Presumably there's also a Long-Necked Plesiosuar. Somewhere.



Else, Reverend Hector Haysoos Bato reports progress in our Righteous Countersuit against Rajneesh Enterprises, Inc., and legal subsidiaries. No hard feelings but dynamo no longer wants in their stupid club anyway.



He's opening the Reformed Church of Rajneesh. No more Salmonella Sprees. Fleet-o-Humvees -- 'Mercan -- not effete Rolls Royces like some Jane-come-late European-noble wannabees.


A whole New 'Neesh!


BTW, Reverend Bato's online Mission Dolares [sp.?], under his corporate Buck Naked Productions umbrella, drew plaudits and pensions from widows all over the Southwest, and attention from Eagle Pass Police. He's representing himself. I already burned all correspondence containing his name, but stand beside him in theory.



Elsewhere on The Disaster Channel, on November 21, The Daily Behemoth posted The Titan and the Titanic. A couple days later, the Love Boat cruiser MS Explorer sank.



Apparenty the Official Explanation and Mizz Explorer were equally watertight:



Whatever caused the damage, Mr. Calisal says it shouldn't have sunk the ship by itself. "Passenger ships are designed with many watertight compartments to contain flooding," he says. "There had to have been a chain of failures to prompt the captain to abandon ship.


Chain chain chain. A planetary theme/park.



Unlocking the linx, unlinking the lox.


Perhaps honesty might have counted? After all, this wasn't exactly an intrepid, heroic journey of science or daring. Instead of the perky, modassertive MS Explorer . . . how about the MS Loungechair?


The Power Shopper? Rinkle Roller?


The Poofter?


Getting the Eleventh Degree is worse than the Third. The O.T. god didn't like it. Such things have consequences not readily observable. To wit.




Like Zodiac's Paradice Slaves, like the zombipall over the American Mind, Valerie Solanas lives! She rides on Belial's horns, as she rode in life. She's in your Congress, she's Up Your Ass, she's creeping along your pons, she's in Wikipedia, she's under the radar and the waves.



Gay feminist and confirmed Greenwich Village denizen Andy Warhol(e) got in touch with the Rearisen Goddess in 1968. It took him 19 long, broken, agonized, majorly p.t.s.d. years to die of her bite.


Might take America longer.


God isn't mocked, apparently. Scares me.


Remaining in Noo Yawk, Fairhall's latest, Painting the Fence Invisible, explores the occult elements of Woodstock, including the octagonal "stargate" design of the Woodstock Museum. Hilary Clinton convinced Congress to allocate a million dollars to The Museum. Her daughter is named for the Chelsea Hotel in Manhatten and for Joni Mitchell's Chelsea Morning.


Seems The Project never ends. Been a long drop from the optimism of Mitchell's Morning to the reality of Der Homeland. No doubt Hilary and Chelsea are happy, though. And that's what matters, always.


Art/artifice/magick. Woodstock, Greenwich Village, Chelsea -- all British-U.S. locale "geminis" with heavy New Age baggage. Locations and terrains invested with power, capable of altering -- even of deranging -- the Collective Mind of nation or planet.


When Bill Graham, of rock promotion and Apocalyse Now helicopter fame, tried to construct a concert "ampitheatre" on a certain site in Northern California, he ended up stormstruck in a shredded bird, dangling from transmission lines. (First mentioned in Ragna Rok and Man Son Role.)


Fairhall's Painting the Fence Invisible makes a credible case for Woodstock (and probably Altamont, given its satanic overtness, and other maSONIC events) as sorcerous operations of an Illumined Elite. Oxford again figures prominently in the post, as does the accession of William of Orange, which some claim redirected Great Britain (and thus many other nations) into the Templar/draconic bloodstream, so to speak. Inferred is formation of the Bank of England and operation of the East India Companies, and all subsequently wrought therefrom to date.


It's like wandering through Medusa's scalp in clogs, eh droogs?


Fairhall:



The region's [Woodstock, N.Y.] reputation as a haven of the arts did not begin in 1969; but with the formation of the Byrdcliffe Arts Colony in 1902, a utopian experiment whose founder- Ralph Radcliffe Whitehead, was a member of the Society for Psychical Research; and a follower of John Ruskin, under whom he had studied at the notorious Balliol College, Oxford. (David Icke connects this name with 'Belial', a 'Watcher' in the Dead Sea Scrolls described as possessing 'a visage like a viper.')

















Once upon a time there was a Dragon and a Serpent, alive unseen amidst a frozen sea. Once gazed east, one west.



Earth-brown and scarlet are these beasts' colors. Scarlet Rivera was Bob Dylan's violinist and multimuse (no whining, Bob!) for Desire and the Gypsycoaster Ride of the 70s Rolling Thunder Review. Isis fiddling on "Isis." Note the Crowleyan/Horus Aeon overtone:



Isis oh Isis you're a Mystical Child

What drives me to you is what drives me insane



Scarlet and Bob met on a Greenwich Village sidewalk, as if Bob conjured her out of the environ's snychrocapacitors, a stored charge of the Possible incarnate, sonic accompanyment to his tornado tour.



Fairhall's post concludes:



How appropriate, then, that that tribute to corporate greed, 'Woodstock '99', should have been held in the town of Rome, New York, on the site of the former Griffiss Air Force Base. As Tom Baldwin writes in The Times, November 17, 2007: 'Bethel Woods may yet gain fresh significance as the place where a counter-cultural revolution becomes harmless enough to sustain a family-friendly visitor attraction for children studying "the 1960s And All That."'



Navy and A.F. fingerprints, yup.


"Griffis" suggests griffin, the "legendary" lion-eagle-serpent hybrid, a theriomorph (thus, early representation of a shapeshifter?) similar to the basilisk/cockatrice/wyvern. Griffins are common in European heraldry, but also appear, notably, on Sumerian iconography. The Wikipedia entry on griffin contains precious-gem hoarding "dinosaurs" and, later, Attic artificts depicting the beast.



Attic. Greek and Rome again. P. Kindred Dick's Endless Empire, multidimensional Black Iron Prison. Yesterday, Yahoonews reported:





Roman throne discovered in Italian ruins


By ARIEL DAVID, Associated Press Writer

Tue Dec 4, 9:24 PM ET


ROME - Remnants of the first known surviving Roman throne have been discovered in the lava and ash that buried the city of Herculaneum in the first century, archaeologists said Tuesday . . . .




The throne depicts Greek mythological figures absorbed by Rome's culture and is decorated with images of the gods Attis and Dionysus, as well as pine cones and phalluses.


Experts said the reliefs recall the "Attideia" ceremonies, which commemorated the death and resurrection of Attis, husband and victim of the goddess Cibele, and were introduced to the Roman calendar by the Emperor Claudius.


The fragile remains will now undergo a lengthy restoration, while archaeologists hope to discover many more precious artifacts as the dig in the Villa dei Papiri continues, Guidobaldi said.



Husband and victim. In the Old Days, they meant the same thing, like king and victim.

Cibele = witchcraft, "sacred marriage" fertility stuff. [Check the "Ariel David" byline too!]


















Artists are vulnerable primarily via their sensitivities, whose negative aspects include suggestibility, manipulability, and need for success. Their wiring and temperaments suit them for certain types of meta-sorcery . . . manipulating creators.



Jim Morrison's dad was a Naval Admiral and captain of the USS Bon Homme (which he was actively decommissioning at Bremerton, Washington, on Jim's death-day. Jim's sister was born in Albuquerque (Sandia Labs); his brother in Los Altos (Stanford Research Institute.)



There was a lot of this, especially amongst Boomer musicians' families. Lines of blood and ley.





Like Woodstock and the cross-coastal Haight, the Chelsea Hotel in Manhatten (and nearby Greenwich Village) centrifuges the tremendous creative/libidic charge of artists with transtemporal, ongoing potency. Hot 'n cold from the Tap, baybee.




Much of this energy is emergent, not yet manifest in formed works, raw but ultra highgrade prima materia surrounded by the technologies necessary to store, amplify, magnify, alter, and utilize it.



Birds in invisible cages.



The Chelsea Girls, probably Warhol's best-known work, chronicles Ole Ange and his retinue as they disport at the Hotel.



Chelsea Clinton as NWO namesake. Chel Sea Girl.


We know what sea means. Heck, we're talkin' friggin Manhatten, edging the Atlantic Abyss, the maternal deeps, abutting the American Goddess, Columbia.



But what about "Chel"?




















"Peace Fountain" in Greenwich Village


A "chela" is the pincerlike claw of a crab, lobster or scorpion.


Bill and Hilary's little girl. Pincerlike claws on the seabeast?


















Like mother, like daughter? The Babalon Working worked.


It had a LOT of damned help.



No doubt Chelsea will make a fine Mother Superior for the Global Elders and the New Celestial Order!


Our post of October 28, "Mean Time," discusses various questionable monuments, including Yoko's Imagine Peace Tower, the crustacean-like O2 Millennium Dome, and the Peace Fountain, pictured above, outside Saint John the Divine in Greenwich Village, N.Y.


(Saint John's "divinity" is news in dynamo's house. Guess somebody Godded him.)


Similarly, our preceding post ranted over the discovery of a four-hundred-million-year old, eight-foot long sea scorpion. Also mentioned were occult elements, especially homosexual magick, associated with the geomantic "Provincetown Scorpion-tip," or Provincetown Spit.


I remember you well at the Chelsea Hotel. Rock and Roll as Global Idol?


No angel born in hell
Could break that satan's spell

(D. McLean)



Chelsea denizens: Dylan, Twain, Kerouac, Burroughs, Kubrick, Diego Rivera, Hendrix, Joni Mitchell, on it goes. Resident Leonard Cohen's wrenching waltz "Chelsea Hotel #2," taking off from his sexual encounter with fellow-resident Janis Joplin. A tawdry blowjob, and oral sex, like anal sex, has (usually) unintended, hidden consequences.


Appropriately for our generation, and for discussion of desolating operations, it's a song about mutual mis-use. Cheapness covering a chasm of emotion and need, the mass dis-spiritment of sexuality and relationship.


To repeat: human gender, man and woman, are the most powerful polarities existing. Manipulating them into adversarial and competitive roles guarantees chaos -- the breakdown of civilizations and ecosystems.


Finally, jumping back across the Pond, we return to Carfax Abbey and Caxton Hall, from our November 5 post. Crowley, Jack Parsons, Ringo Starr, Cecil Rhodes, and William Caxton/the British East India Company were implicated.


A little-known U.S. tie-in involves Ben Caxton, a principal character in Robert Heinlein's 1961 Stranger in a Strange Land, concerning the arrival and activities of a certain semi-Martian on Earth. (Fairhall will appreciate that the Martian, Valentine Michael Smith, is initially imprisoned at Bethesda Naval Hospital by a future NWO.)



Stranger, along with the Tolkien trilogy, were the most influential novels on the Sixties counterculture. Stranger carried tremendous permissive clout, given the protagonist's inferred equivalence with archangel Michael.


"Free love," open bi-sexuality, the failure of organized religions, etc., all approved for the West by Michael via Heinlein. Most curious, perhaps, is Michael's oft-repeated expression of universal unity, "Thou Art God."



It's meant to show the immanence of God in all Creation, but . . . slippery slope, that We Are God stuff. Not exactly "Who is like God?"


As friend and protector Jubal Harshaw wryly comments about Mike's "revolution": his "system" is fine "for angels."


Heinlein got a lot "right," and was particularly prognostic about the religious domince of mass-religious corporations like Moral Majority and Christian Coalition. Wikipedia reports of Heinlein:


Heinlein graduated from the U.S. Naval Academy in 1929, and served as an officer in the United States Navy. On June 21, 1929, he married the former Eleanor Curry of Kansas City in Los Angeles, but this marriage lasted only about a year. He served on the USS Lexington in 1931. During this time, Heinlein worked on radio communications, then in its nascent phase, with the aircraft carrier's planes. The Captain of the vessel was Ernest King who was later to serve as the Chief of Naval Operations during the Second World War. Heinlein was frequently interviewed during his later years by military historians on King and his services as the commander of the US Navy's first modern aircraft carrier.


A perceptive passage from Wikipedia's entry on Stranger:



Furthermore, just prior to the dénouement, the story arc is revealed: that one major difference between humans and Martian species is that humans require two genders to reproduce (and to "grow-closer"), while Martians do not...the young "egg" Martians are female and the adults are male. In the final chapter, Mike comes to understand (through a conversation with Jubal) that this is the root of competition on Earth, in order to concede to the "survival of the fittest" concept. In this capacity, the story of a stranger in a strange land becomes a metaphor for the interactions between males and females.



Here's an interesting essay on Stranger, suggesting the novel was an allegory of Crowleyan Thelema, a "talismanic spell in itself," as the essay author opines. He reports that L. Ron Hubbard, who operated the Babalon Working with the aforementioned (Rocket) Jack Parsons, "knew Heinlein intimately." L. Ron, of course, authored a bit of science fiction himself. Like Heinlein, he was also a Naval Officer.



Heinlein also apparently was a JPL-rat, which certainly would have connected him with Parsons. Was he an Illuminati adept/dupe? A part of the latter-day "pouring out of prophecy"? Archangel Michael?



Send more kruggerands. We'll run it through Kindred's Big Noodle.


:O)



The essay author correctly states that the "key" to Stranger is decoding of the "Martian language." He continues:



The Nest is organized around Templar lines, Michael's ideals are clearly Gnostic, and Jubal emerges in later analysis to be of deeply Templar significanc . . . . We'll start with Valentine Michael Smith. As Bruce Franklin writes in Robert A. Heinlein: America through Science Fiction:1 "He is: Valentine, both a message of erotic love and a martyred saint; Michael, keeper of the gates of heaven, archangel who leads the heavenly hosts against the forces of evil; Smith, the American everyman.



He is also a 'superman' from a culture far in advance of human culture in mysterious ways. And he is unfallen man, the New Adam who has never tasted the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge. He is likened to Dionysus, and later assumes the name of Apollo. Above all, he is the new messiah, re-enacting the crucifixion, destined to save the elect in a mortally diseased world."


Later, the essay spotlights investigative reporter Ben Caxton:



Most of Stranger's Part 4 is devoted to Caxton's description and analysis of his experiences in the Nest and his transformation as a result. Through Caxton, the audience gets a box seat in the consciousness of a man undergoing initiation and apotheosis -- not to mention a peek into the inner sanctum of the Gnostic- Templar Nest.


His transformation is the very fulcrum of the novel, but who does Caxton represent? In 1910, Crowley staged the Rites of Eleusis at Caxton Hall in London. According to Crowley, and to many of the regulars who wrote about their experiences first hand, these were initiatory experiences which caused personal evolution in the audience members. A precursor to performance art, the Rites were presented as sacred drama and received mixed, but usually bad reviews.


Despite the uneven commentary, the Rites ran successfully until the outbreak of WWI in 1914. It becomes clear that Ben Caxton, the man, represents the archetypical initiate who passes from well-accomplished manhood to something larger (godhood?) through a series of initiations which assist in the realization of higher understandings. The process, often psychically painful, demands rigorous self-examination and the continual testing of the initiate's habitual beliefs. Caxton clearly was the subject of such an initiation. And he clearly crosses through the three Thelemically phases in his transition: a man of the earth, the lover and the hermit. This progression is described in Liber Legis 76 and is mirrored in most Thelemic societies. A few more observations: Ben is Hebrew for "son of" or "heir to" and Caxton certainly winds up as an heir to Michael's fortune thereby becoming something like Jubal's grandson. Historically, there is only one Caxton of note, Britain's first commercial printer, who doesn't seem to have been so important, but the author has seen this Caxton's name on several odd monuments including the facade of Harvard's famous Widener Library so there may be more here than meets the eye.


Do tell.


Heinlein's title is from Exodus 2, in which Moses laments over his peoples' captivity in Egypt.

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