Da Black Whole

Monday, April 21, 2008

The Picture Changes






Queen Mother (Neil Hague)














LONDON — The British government is seeking to abolish an 18th century royal succession law that requires the daughter of a monarch to make way for her younger brother, a Sunday newspaper reported.

Solicitor General Vera Baird was quoted by The Sunday Times as saying the 1701 law giving male heirs the right to succeed to the throne ahead of any older sisters was unfair and "a load of rubbish."









\



Closing off the last few escape-routes from the Gynogulag. Ensuring there can be no future "mistakes."



You said you'd never compromise
with the Mystery Tramp but now you realize
He's not selling any alibis
As you stare into the vacuum of his eyes
and say: "Do you want to make a deal?"

("Like a Rolling Stone")



She's invisible now, even as Rilke dreamed in Duino Elegies. Close your eyes the right way, she might appear.

Mute, magnetized, hurtling toward some Bogartean great Attract Tor.




Uncle Sweetheart: Don't they understand who Jack Fate is?

Nina Veronica: Nobody knows who Jack Fate is anymore. Nobody cares. I mean, he doesn't make records. He doesn't go on tour. He doesn't do interviews. He doesn't do anything!

/

Sweetheart: He doesn't have to, he's a legend.


As blathered last outing, I Am Legend and recent related films, VALIS-like, sneak vital information about current real plagues into the western collective unconscious, for gradual assimilation. One cannot battle something collectively agreed not to exist.

Thus a malevolent "plague," civilizational devolution, etiology carefully undefined.


Legend's protagonist is Robert Neville (Will Smith) -- a combo of the modern individualized human Will, and the collective masculine -- the perennial, everyman, common Smith. A counter-Crowleyan, a blacksmithy if you Will.

Chunk on the I Am/Yahweh associations, after Dick's The Divine Invasion.


Virologist Smith remains behind in New York's Ground Zero, Manhattan (more broadly, diseased Earth) seeking a vaccine from captured zombees. He's separated from his "true family" (possibly killed in copter crash) but later connects with a "foster family" for whom he must die to ensure their escape from quarantined Manhattan, and subsequent delivery of the blood-vaccine to a Vermont survivor colony. (Nina Veronicamont? lol)



The "foster" mother and boy (Anna and Ethan) find Neville in Manhattan, having escaped contaminated Maryland (Land of Mary, reinforcing the plague's matri-nature.)


While neither infected nor carrier, Neville/Smith is nevertheless "contaminated" or polluted by his blasted psycho-spiritual environment, struggling to maintain basic humanity, under assumption his family is dead, and the entire planet is contaminated and doomed. His relationship with his German Shepherd is reminiscent of Harlan Ellison's masculo-primal A Boy And His Dog, denounced by feminists as misogynistic.




Smith in I Am Legend is cosmogonic, much like the Star

Father at the end of No Country for Old Men: making possible and launching a new civilization, a new heaven and earth hinted at in Legend's closing scene.


The secret of Smith's mission, like the inner nature of the "plague," tiptoe across the screen in the first few minutes, while the viewer is still unsettled, distracted, slightly unconscious -- thus most vulnerable to influence or suggestion.


The film's initial image is the Warner Brothers logo, "WB" emerging from the peculiar, sorta spooky, yellow-orange "backlot sheds" or quonset huts backdrop. As the usual "timewave effect" ripples across the sheds, the offscreen voiceover begins, of two baseball announcers. The Warner Brothers logo is replaced by the Village Roadshow Pictures, Weed Road Pictures, and Overbrook Entertainment logos, in succession.


All standard, except for the voiceover, which fades-in and picks up mid-sentence:

Announcer #1: . . . Spring Training Camp, and he's definitely got the inside track. Word is that they're having some problems with injuries.


Announcer #2: Really. And, uh, are they looking into free-agent signings, last-second, anything like that?

Announcer #1: Possibly. They've got a strong Farm Club too. They've got some Triple A ballplayers they might be bringing up. But, again, Peter would certainly be able to tell us a little more about that in the next half-hour.

Curious opening for an apocalyptic narrative, hm?



The announcers chat a bit more. We are normalized and disarmed. Then, the hammer falls.


The moderator, transitioning, comes in:



Thank you, guys. And that's not all we're following. Here's Karen at the Health Desk.

Cut to image of a black female TV anchor, speaking:


The world of medicine has seen its share of miracle cures, from the polio vaccine to heart transplants, but all past achievements may pale in comparison to the work of Dr. Alice Krippen.




Cut to middle-aged white female, with a lopsided half-smile.


Anchor: Thank you so much for joining us this morning.


Krippen: Not at all.


Anchor: So, Dr. Krippen, give it to me in a nutshell.

Krippen: Well, the premise is quite simple. Um, take something that is designed by nature and reprogram it to make it work for the body rather than against it.


Anchor: You're talking about a virus?


Krippen: Indeed, yes, in this case the measles, um, virus, which has been engineered at a g-genetic level to be helpful rather than harmful. Um, I find the best way to describe it is if you can imagine your body as a highway, and you picture the virus as a very fast car, being driven by a very bad man, imagine the damage that car could cause.


Anchor: (agreeing) Um.


Krippen: Then, if you replace that man with a cop, the picture changes. And that's essentially what we've done.

Anchor: How many people have you treated so far?

Krippen: Well we've had ten-thousand and nine, um, clinical trials in humans so far.



Anchor: And how many are cancer-free?



Krippen: Ten-thousand and nine.

Anchor: So you have actually cured cancer?

Krippen, smiling: Yes, yes. Yes, we have.




(Pilfered Shamelessly from Rigorous Intuition)


















The screen immediately goes black, we hear a deep, ominous roll, then the screen opens on contaminated New York City, three years later, deserted except for zombies and Robert Neville.



Neville recorded and replayed the interview. Krippen and Anchor Karen, like almost everybody else, is either dead or Panfried Zombie.



As our last post discussed, I Am Legend's plauge is relational, not bio-physical -- what Camille Paglia called America's "maternal psychosis." This plague inevitably separtes male from female, male from children, and humanity from both sanity and God.



Seems Dr. Krippen and fellow cultural engineers -- with advice of ever-helpful Madonna Serpentum -- cured the planet of the "global threat," a.k.a. masculinity. Result: wasteland.



Latest in Ill i noise. West Salem, in fact. Nearby Mount Carmel also mentioned.


It's the New Ma Dread [pronounced MAD-rid] Fault! Oh-nooooo! :O)



The Good Dok Tor doesn't "give it" to the Anchor Lady "in a nutshell." Krippen is the nutshell, representative Nut. She's Infested A-lice, Kultural Re-Engineer of masculinity and fatherhood, self-deified replacement for God. As Anna represents Erich Neumann's Nurturing Mother, Kripen personifies the Terrible Mother -- our western matriarchies.



Feeding on the penetration-anxieties (and desires!) of females, and on the chivalrous protection-response in males, Krippen invites the Anchor and her audience to imagine the [female/planetary] body as a highway, and the virus as a very fast car driven by a "very bad man."

Not a bad woman, to be sure. No woman is illegal.



The sexual innuendo, with its fear-inciting, agitprop subtext, would be perfectly at-home on any t.v. screen in the modern Western world. Profitable, too.


As Dr. Krippen warns, without proper "reprogramming" and "engineering" why, that bad "car" gets out of control. Imagine the damage that car could cause, she intones, as we all nod agreement.

Baaaaa.

Dr. Krippen's panacea:

Then, if you replace that [very bad] man with a cop, the picture changes.


Krippen is played by Emma Thompson, a British actress discussed by Fairhall in his "The Butterfly Net":



An (uncredited) cameo by Emma Thompson, for example, as the scientist responsible for the carnage is poignant for her being one of several celebrities named as a reptilian-human hybrid in Jennie Gosbell's highly unusual book, The Reptilian Informant.



'Synchro-mystically', this fact yields poetic confirmation that the 'real' virus is no mere germ, but a state of being equally contagious and potentially much more deadly: the 'reptilian (or predator) consciousness.'




Her character, the aptly-named Dr Krippen, is clearly inspired by the notorious Victorian murderer Hawley Crippen; the distinctive spelling, however, and the hard K-sound, is a well-known reptilian 'fingerprint', based on the fact that its hieroglyphic equivalent was drawn as a serpent (cf. Meredith Kercher.)



Again, the skeleton key to this film, the transformative invocation, is Krippen's statement: Then, if you replace that [very bad] man with a cop, the picture changes.


Careful attention to the above line of dialogue on DVD reveals that she actually says somthing quite different, and that as listerners, we have unconsciously "filled-in" the "proper" word, picture.



In reality, rather than picture, Emma Thompson -- almost like Doctor Jekyll's "good side" -- utters the words bitch who. The phonics and pronounciations are almost identical . . . but it is there. Replay for yourselves and see.


And that really changes the Planetary Picture. Not to mention the enitre ontology of the West.



Now, Krippen's revelation reads: Then, if you replace that [very bad] man with a cop, the bitch who changes, that's essentially what we've done.




Indeed. It is.



An amazing, almost completely hidden confirmation of the true plauges infesting the modern West. Bravo Lawrence and Co.!!


Suddenly, the film's thematic underground, vast, opens out before us, and all subsequent drama and events take on new light and resonance.









Madonna Serpentum (John Meluch)

















Bitch who changes infers shapeshifting sorcery, reptilianism, lunacy/lunarity, and the triune-goddess -- very much as Fairhall intuited with his Emma Thompson riff. Man is "replaced" with a planetary "cop" -- "the bitch who changes."




[BTW, another Emma involved in "Hollywood sorcery" is Emma Watson, the chief female protagonist of the Harry Potter film series. Born in Oxford.]










Chelsea, Hillary, Dorothy Rodham: On the Campaign Trail











Ms. America, Psyko-kop.







U.S. To Expand Collection of Crime Suspects' DNA




Guess which gender is arrested in America, and whose DNA will be collected?




Hint: not Chelsea's.




If Dr. Krippen's Bad Man is, somehow, found innocent after Arrest and Collection, he can petition Dr. Krippen and Company to expunge his record and de-collect him.




Good luck.




Recall the "penetration threat" in Dr. Krippen's spiel?




Jayann Sepich of Carlsbad, N.M., said she applauds the federal rule change. In August 2003, after Sepich's 22-year-old daughter, Katie, was raped and killed, investigators found her attacker's skin and blood under her fingernails. But no samples in the state's database matched the evidence.

In 2006, moved by Katie Sepich's death, the New Mexico legislature passed "Katie's Law," requiring the collection of arrestees' DNA.



Katie's Law, Megan's Law, Vanessa's Law, etc. Homeland Security.


How was the government's "new rule" on taking DNA from all arrestees shoehorned in? By the same laboratory-tested technique of appeal to America's Innocent Female/Evil Male religion: in this case, the multi-billion dollar War on Maleness called the Violence Against Women Act. (What!? You're not FOR violence against women, are you!?)




The database expansion was authorized by Congress as an amendment to the Violence Against Women Act and was billed primarily as a way to track down serial rapists, murderers and other offenders.




Sounds good, doesn't it? Mama's Law. Dr. Krippen Knows Best. All in the name of protection and safety.



As our Airwave Announcers comment when I Am Legend begins, if Neville/Smith ends up on the Injured Reserve List, well, they draft someone from Triple-A ball or free agency.




Earth, however, is not interchangeable with anything. There are no substitutes. While relations between human female and male are ill, Earth is ill. If those relations reach a critical mass, it's lights-out. There are no alternate remedies. Only reluctant arks.




There's a long drive... it's gonna be, I believe...THE GIANTS WIN THE PENNANT!! THE GIANTS WIN THE PENNANT! THE GIANTS WIN THE PENNANT! THE GIANTS WIN THE PENNANT!


--Russ Hodges, Shot Heard 'Round the World

Thursday, April 17, 2008

The Pros From Dover


Washington Square Park, Greenwich Village, Manhattan, home and lab of Robert Neville (Will Smith) in I Am Legend [shown:Arch at center of Park]






Late last night I heard the screen door slam
And a big yellow Taxi took away my old man

Don't it always seem to go
that you don't know what you got 'til it's gone?


Arrythmatic plagues devastate America and Great Britain, twin ventricles of the West, in the devo-apocalyptic trinity 28 Weeks Later, No Country for Old Men, and I Am Legend.


In No Country for Old Men from Dos Hermanos Kohanim, stark and traditional West Texas is overtaken inexorably by socio-spiritual rot, a plague that baffles and breaks the local lawmen. The Coen's title says it all.


Likewise, the London and environs of 28 Weeks Later and I am Legend's Manhattan Island suffer from zombie attack, literally vampiric. To casual viewers, the plagues appear "viral" in origin and character, conveniently ascribable to germ theory.


In both films, the outbreaks involve cures drawn from the infected's blood -- a kind of anti-vampirism reminiscent of Christian eschatology.


. . . for the accuser of our brethren is cast down, which accused them before our God day and night.

And they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb, and by the word of their testimony; and they loved not their lives unto the death.

(Rev. 12, 10-11)



"Loved not their lives" doesn't mean they hated living. Quite the opposite. It means they did what was necessary, even to death, without overriding concern for enjoyment of, or advancement in, life.

(For more background on these films see Fairhall's "The Butterfly Net" of Dec. 31, 2007, his "Greenwich Layer Cake" duet, his most recent post, and my "Mean Time" post. Do it now, airman!)













Capt. Peterson: [hostile tone of voice] What are you two HOODLUMS doing in this hospital?


Hawkeye Pierce: Ma'am, we are surgeons and we are here to operate. We're just waiting for a starting time, that's all.


Capt. Peterson: You can't even go near a patient until Col. Merrill says its ok and he's still out to lunch.


Trapper John: Look, mother, I want to go to work in one hour. We are the Pros from Dover and we figure to crack this kid's chest and get out to the golf course before dark.


The gambler tips his cap
and walks towards the door
It's the second half of the Cruise
and you know he hates to lose

"Cripple Creek Ferry"

All three films released in 2007 reveal, in different ways, the West's relational and spiritual disconnection, alienation, cannibalization, and zombification under cover of a Bad Virus deke.

BAD virus. Shamey shamey. Apparently The Kitty was unavailable for scapegoat duty.

BTW . . . that Big Yellow Taxi that Joni Mitchell wrote and sang about? . . . was a cop cruiser. Before 1986, the Toronto Police Service drove yellow cars.


Seems her Old Man had help in the leaving.


(Sometimes those Flying Monkeys come back to bite the mistress. And Toronto has been occult red-flagging for decades. Tor Onto. Cana Da.)

The County Sheriff protagonist of Old Men, disheartened and defeated by The Devolution's extent and malice, retires, with no replacements on the polluted horizon.


Aging and devastated that God hadn't fulfilled his expectations and "entered his life," his only connection to Spirit and masculinity, his only tether, are fleeting dreams of his distant and solitary personal father (removed Cosmic Father) aboard horseback, having "gone ahead" into the darkness with a foundational, primordial fire in conservation of fatherhood itself -- of humanity's future.

Hardly a vote o' confidence for America, or Earth. Very Noah-ish.
The analog in I Am Legend is the "God Still Loves Us" sign at Zombie Ground Zero.


They got mesmerized by alibis
and limbo-danced in pairs
(Please lock that door)
It don't make much sense
that common sense
don't make no sense no more

(J. Prine)


In the Wachowski Brothers' The Matrix, one of the first existential griefbombs Morpheus must drop on Neo is that The People are hypnotised, deceived, infected by Malevolent Memes: under or prone to possession by the Matrix, and thus, in a limited but immediate sense, potential enemies of Neo and of humanity -- like plague-carriers and zombies, enemies overcome from within. (See Rev. 12.)


As Fairhall documents, the Triune Goddess biohazard symbol projected onto Dover is intimately connected to 28 Weeks Later, as was the real-life torching of the Cutty Sark, a nautical representation of Nannie, the virginal, loonar Sickle Goddess (with standard attendant occult/masonic resonances.)


Stonehenge is aligned to 29 degrees Virgo -- the wisdom degree of that earth sign -- towards the Great Central Sun, where scientists say a black hole holds all the galaxies together. This is not to be confused with Galactic Center, located at 27 degrees Sagittarius which is the common nucleus around which rotate our own regional galaxies, including the Milky Way. [Quote source here. Such "sacred alignments" in stone, whether megaliths, temples, or cathedrals, exist across the planet, including wide dispersion in the New World.]











The Sark lit off on May 21, 2007, and 28 Weeks Later was first-run in theatres ten days earlier. The film included an epigrammatic "forgotten-postcard shot" from, probably, the boy's character -- scrawled "For Dad" -- and a fireball erupting from the Greenwich Foot Tunnel that engulfs the mockup Sark (via compugraphics.)


Synchromysticism?


Well, synchronous surely -- temporally proximate. But hardly mystical or mysterious, any more than the shootings and berserkings now staple and background in American culture. Predictable and inevitable, rather.



28 Weeks Later authentically translated the suppressed collective emotion of real people represented by the film's separated dad and kids, and the amasculine or antimasculine culture-at-large. In 28 Weeks Later, we get the Deadbeat Dad script: the father first abandons his wife to the zombies, then later is zombified himself with the Rage Virus. His children see him exposed as a coward and deserter.

In 28 Weeks Later masculinity proves untrustworthy, so females mostly save the day -- very modern.


Ridikillus. But popular and modern.
















These, however, like the WTC towers and the very burnt Sark, are or were real.


In matriarchal cultures ruled by the "goddess," the alienation of masculinity and fatherhood is far more immediate, and far more apocalyptic, than any threat from superviruses, asteroids, Gamma Constellation Greys, chupacabras, bin Badboys, or suitcase nukes. Like mass-media, that's for show and dough: the Magician's "on" hand.


28 Weeks Later perhaps nods sarcastically to the new Diversity Elite with its black NATO Commander character. But the film's thematic power and conflict, like the plague itself, Eden's ouster, arises from "relational diseases." Women and children are disconnected from men. God and fatherhood are superfluous or dead. The European Union, Global Elders, UN, NSA, American Association of University Women, etc. etc. know -- and decide -- all that is knowable or decideable.



She said that livin' with me
was bringing her down
That she would never be free
when I was around

(Lennon, McCartney)


Empires have colonies. A hundred trillion slave-state gynogalaxies.


That's the "Great Work."

All will love me and despair!

-- Galadriel, under temporary control of the Ring of Power)



Constantine director Francis Lawrence wisely revised main location shooting for I Am Legend from Los Angeles to Greenwich Village, and carried over both the title and the "Robert Neville" moniker from Richard Matheson's 1954 science fiction/apocalyptic-zombie novel.



The Exorcist, like Constantine, opens in "pagan ruins." In the latter, a scavenger in northern Mexico uncovers the ultimate weapon, the Spear of Longinus/Destiny. Like the draco "reptile fossil" unearthed in the first scene of Ken Russell's The Lair of the White Worm (discussed in previous posts), re-discovery of the Spear in Constantine indicates re-arising of ancient evil, long buried and forgotten to most (but not to all.)

In 2006, a year after Constantine was released, one Chris Fountain of Greenwich, Connecticut, found a four-to-five thousand year old quartz spear point in his veggie garden. Yup, garden. Mebbe it was Destiny, eh?



The sonic and transductive qualities of quartz, especially in large deposit, are well-known. America's loaded with the stuff . . . it's the most abundant mineral in the continental crust. Quartz crystals are piezoelectric, developing electrical potential under physical stressors, a property used by certain ancient adepts and, of course, by industry today.



Quartz is the "stone of the sun" in Irish, and was used widely in burial contexts in European passage tombs (e.g., Newgrange.) Shamans employ quartz almost obsessively, in wide geodistribution. In Australian Aboriginal practice and myth, both quartz and shaman are denoted by the magical word maban.



Maban.
Ma is, well, Ma. Ban is discussed frequently within this site. It arose recently in association with the Dalai Lama, via UN Secretary-General Ban Ki-Moon.



For more on the Ban, see "Ragna Rok and Man Son Role" and "Of Midgard and Middle Earth." Both here, scroll down.
To sum, the Celtic triple goddess of war and fertility (i.e., blood sacrifice) is called Banba -- equivalent to Hellenism's uber-witch, Hecate. Both Norse mythology and Hittite iconography identify the "ban" as the Great Devouring Serpent.



Comparison is also made between the Ban and the Indonesian "hobbit folk" Homo florensiensis, recently unearthed and currently under hot debate among archeologists, paleontologists, bioevolutionists and such.



As for Connecticut, site of Mr. Fountain's find, the very word is Operational, occulting the basic coagula (connect) and solve (I cut) formula of alchemy and sorcery.



Rememer our Texas sheriff in No Country for Old Men, overwhelmed by evil and separation from god/father? The article on Mr. Fountain ends:



Fountain's life hasn't worked that way.


He suffered powerful feelings of guilt and remorse after his father's death by suicide 18 years ago, he said. Most of the time Fountain, an attorney who now works as a real estate agent, got by. At other times, he felt an emptiness that threatened to ruin his life. In early June, his mood turned after a chance reference to his father and Fountain sought help from a therapist.



"She told me to pray to God for a sign that I was not alone in the universe, that He was there," Fountain recalled. "She said it would be entirely personal to you and you'll know it when you get it."


Six days later, as he was turning over the soil in his vegetable garden, Fountain said, he received his sign.


He keeps the spear point in a plastic bag in his pocket. Fountain said he now realizes that the sign he was looking for was always there, waiting for him, buried on the banks of Longmeadow Creek.




Hm redux.



Further Fractured Fraternitas sync: the Neville Brothers are celebrated soul singers from New Orleans, the American home of gospel/rock, vampirism, voudoun zombees, and recent deluge. For depth, see Michael Ventura's "Hear That Long Snake Moan.")



I Am Legend's re-hash plot was profitable, and worked as high cimematic art, not merely through special effects or Will Smith's drawing power. The film dramatically captures our modern collective insolubilities, which truly are apocalyptic -- the same intractable, pandemic, communicable forces reconnointered but never made conscious in Old Men and 28 Weeks Later. Characters in those films weren't meant to sense, much less understand, the Larger Hand.


I Am Legend does confront those forces, root of the plague, though tangentially. Also, unlike 28 Weeks and Old Men, Francis Lawrence's film ends in a hope sprouting organically from both plot elements and his growing spiritual understanding, evidenced in Constantine.

As I Am Legend closes, the woman and boy saved by Neville approach the great, closed, guarded gates of the Vermont Colony, a plague h(e)aven. Bells chime, the gates roll back, and the large entry-avenue leads directly to a church, surrounded by a bustling and healthy community. It's nondenominational and sublte.



Progress for Francis. Been a long hike from producing Beyonce/Destiny's Child videos!

Like Paul on the Damascan Road? lol


Mebbe Francis misses his daddy, too?


Man, it's about time.


Before the first-run theatre audience had settled their bew-tocks and rattled their popcorn, before the production company logos had even run fergawdsakes, the skeleton keys to I Am Legend had already been proferred and rolled past, couched as a meaningless overdub of sports announcers discussing baseball.


Hard to imagine many public-theater patrons fully comprehended, much less heard, this crucial opening sequence. The first five minutes of the film, carefully reviewed, greatly expand the subtext and validate the conclusion.
That's next time on this station. Then you'll know too. Ooh we're all Special Together! Let's do Oprah!


hasta luego, this is Happy Trails for little dynamo and the whole gang, broadcasting up and down your AM dial. We hope you've enjoyed de program. Tune in again soon and remember, "It ain't the size of the dog in the fight, it's . . . whooa shit! I'm outta here

Monday, April 14, 2008

Stellar Alliance




Peek-a-boo
Eye See You!







Twenty years back, Ken Russell's The Lair of the White Worm predicted the West's regression to reptilianism, to occultism, pagan matriarchy. Two years earlier, fellow Brit film-maker Nicolas Roeg's The Man Who Fell to Earth updated the Jesus "story" of the fallout when male spiritus collides with female materia.

Scorcese's Gangs of New York and The Last Temptation of Christ, of course, address the same issue, as do dozens of films from the past thirty years. Peckinpah's Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid westernizes it all, projecting the local cosmic-conflict "backwards" into the nineteenth century, while masked and anonymous casts the Whole Filthy Mess temporally forward a few years.

With hindsight, and like Russell's White Worm, Roeg's Man Who Fell proves horrifyingly accurate concerning occult activities and "spiritual matters" culminating during the past two decades.

(Philip Kindred Dick's "novel" VALIS used Man Who Fell as a key plot element -- not surprising, given the same source-well. Heinlein's Stranger in a Strange Land is, likewise, direct analog.)


In Man Who Fell, E.T. Thomas Jerome Newton (6+6+6) staggers around Pit Stop Terra, fruitlessly hoping to Do Good and bring water (love) back to his own dying civilization. Instead, he's given a Local Lesson, spiraling ever deeper into material corruption and addictions, used and betrayed by all-n-sundry.




The Three Little Maids
(The Mikado)











Early in The Man Who Fell to Earth, still disoriented by earthly ways, we find protagonist Newton in a japanese tea-house, trying to decode a kabuki performance by two Dualized combatants representing human Female and Male.

And he said unto them, Ye are from beneath; I am from above: ye are of this world; I am not of this world. (John 8:23)

Everywhere else in the film, E.T. Newton is confronted and confused by the myriad deceptions, intrigues, artifices, and betrayals of human beings and society. Only in the kabuki performance -- which he begins to grok far too late -- is the false-front of planetary reality peeled back.

The emotionless, Ms. and Mr. Roboto kabuki performers -- Americans used often to call oriental theatre/performers "celestials" -- attempt to warn our Starman. Like Jesus, Newton is quintessentially male. Though fallen, as the film's title assures, he's still The Man.

When it comes to Earth and her ways, however, he ain't got Kloo One.

Then said they unto him, Where is thy Father? Jesus answered, Ye neither know me, nor my Father: if ye had known me, ye should have known my Father also. (John 8:19)

Lost on befuddled Newton, the stern visages and exaggerated kata of the kabuki dance reveal the War for Power underlying male/female relations on this planet -- so antithetical and confounding to spititual representative Newton. While the kabuki duo, Ms. Yin and Mr. Yang stalk and posture, seeking weaknesses, deploying their bodies against one another like landmines, the scene intercuts with The Professor -- one of Newton's betrayers -- sexually exploiting one of his young students.
As The Professor nears climax, the female kabuki player finally seizes the advantage, and The Professor's orgasm occurs simultaneous with the disempowerment, resignation, and servile bow of the male kabuki player towards his conqeror, Woman.

E.T. Newton, expecting to witness, well, something a bit more tender, blanches at reality, having only enough experience and wits to lurch out of the horrorshow and into the street, sparing himself witness of the Deathblow. But gravity is already in motion, and he beneath. Like the male performer, Newton's fate is long sealed.

In a Completely Unrelated Event

by Justin Cole
Sun Apr 13, 10:23 PM ET

WASHINGTON (AFP) - A stellar alliance of women from government, advocacy groups, faith-based organizations and Hollywood launched a major anti-poverty campaign Sunday to help poor women and girls around the world.

The alliance, which has the backing of Liberian President Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf, Queen Noor of Jordan and former US secretary of state Madeleine Albright among other luminaries, announced it had amassed fundraising commitments of 1.481 billion dollars at its first summit held at Washington's National Cathedral.

The Women, Faith and Development Alliance (WFDA) said the large war chest which has been raised so far will cumulatively benefit one billion women and girls living in crushing poverty worldwide.
"Every development expert knows that if you want a country to make progress, then empower women, educate girls, that's the way you do it and that's how we will tackle poverty," Mary Robinson, former president of Ireland, said at the summit opening.

Hundreds of supporters packed into the towering cathedral as the WFDA formally launched a campaign aimed in part at changing the policies of governments and multilateral institutions to help eradicate female poverty.
The alliance is also supported by Laura Bush, wife of US President George W. Bush, the former prime minister of Canada, Kim Campbell, and Hollywood actress Ashley Judd.

Ritu Sharma Fox, a co-founder and president of Women Thrive Worldwide, said ahead of the summit's opening that the funds promised so far will benefit over one billion poor women and girls around the world.

WFDA is lobbying governments and international agencies to provide several billion more dollars to support the female anti-poverty drive.
The United Nations Population Fund is one of the biggest backers so far and has made a commitment of 500 million dollars over several years to address maternal mortality and to stop violence against women.


Islamic Relief has pledged 43 million dollars to improve education, basic health care and water access for over one million women and girls.


Catholic Relief Services, World Vision, the Muslim Women's Conference and Religions for Peace have also signed up to the broad inter-faith grouping which is being supported by the US healthcare products giant Johnson & Johnson as well as other groups and corporations.

Activists and supporters from around the world attended the summit following two years of planning. Attendees, including Robinson, Albright, Campbell and Judd, were entertained by colorful dance troupes and youth music groups.

The women- and girl-focused campaign, like other global anti-poverty drives, faces immense challenges.



UN figures show that women represent 70 percent of the world's poor, own just one percent of titled land, and make up two-thirds of the world's illiterate people.

Poverty experts estimate there are between 1.0 and 1.2 billion people around the world who exist on less than one dollar a day, many of whom live in Sub-Saharan Africa, Asia and the Middle East.


"Women and girls around the world face grave challenges. In Africa, my home continent, and in many other places our sisters make up seventy percent of the nearly 2.5 billion poorest and most vulnerable people on earth," South African Archbishop Desmond Tutu said in a video message relayed to the summit.

Activists say impoverished women face particular hardships, especially in conflict zones where they are raped and abused, but they say women are often more careful than men with money and better at fostering support networks.

"We are global. We are united. We do not accept that 500,000 women should die each year because of avoidable complications in pregnancy," Albright told the summit.


The UN estimates that half a million women die every year due to preventable complications from pregnancy.


Magdalene (Maddy) Albright, Mama Bush, Holly Wood, Ms. Fox . . . gang's all there!

Why, (Mother) Mary Robinson, former president of Ireland, is already a Global Elder! She proclaims to the nations:



If you want a country to make progress, then empower women.

Empower women? What happened to feeding the poor, aiding the impoverished, the downtrodden? Wasn't that the stated agenda?


We are global. We are united.


Doesn't sound like Oppression to little d.
Sounds more like Gloat, with a strong undercurrent of Promised Threat.
They got the Church of England, the Catholics, and the Muslims to come together, in the cause of entitling and worshipping woman. LOL!!


Ashley [Law of Ashes] Judd, that twofaced American Womanfirster, adds glitter to the other"luminaries."

The UN, longstanding bastion of NWO feminism, is also involved. Wooda never gessed.
Hey! Isn't Oprah the First Ambassador to the Global Elders?
nice uroboric logo!

One Ring to rule them all
One ring to find them
One ring to bring them all
And in the darkness bind them




Our last post, "This is International Standards," delved into the occulture of the words cole, coal, and kohl. The principle meaning of cole was magician (illusionist, artificer.)

Author of the above agitprop: Just in Cole.

In the masscom age, the battleground is the collective mind -- conscious, unconscious, and states in-tween. Those who shape and control those minds, particularly through mass marketing, media, education, and entertainment propaganda, rule the planet.
This is especially true in "democracies" where The People, when unamenable to dupage by appeal to self-interest, are eminently dupable by other means.


In addition to Hollywood, the Women, Faith and Development Alliance has corporate sponsorship from Johnson & Johnson.
Double-headed Janus, anyone?


Brief interlude from The Grand Lodge of Saskatchewan:


January is named for Janus (Ianuarius), the God of gates, doors, doorways, beginnings and endings in Roman mythology. He was usually depicted with two faces looking in opposite directions. His ability to see both forwards and backwards at the same time aided him in the pursuit of the nymph Carna whom he gave power over door hinges as a reward for her favors.

Janus was frequently used to symbolize change and transitions. . . .


Speaking of dubbles, also reappearing from prior posts, like a troo zombie, is "Archbishop" Desmond Tutu, Chairman of the Global Elders.
Let's see, now, O Great Holy Elder . . . global war on poverty benefitting women, girls, and . . . whoops! did we inadvertently leave A Certain Gender off of the NWO Anti-Poverty Gravytrain?

Check the list again. Women . . . check. Girls . . . check.

Nupe, nobody important missing. Sounds familiar alritee.

Guess the boys can starve. Serves 'em right, the little Oppressors.
Next time maybe they'll be more careful where they land.





Humbly dedicated to Ritu Sharma Fox, co-founder and president of Women Thrive Worldwide