Exilarch in Babylon

Jacob van Loo

 

Ray:  People don’t like you, Hancock.
Son from next room:  I do!

 

Tom:  How am I doing with my reading and understanding generally?  This influence through history.  1-10
Brent:  Stupid.  Fit morning with it.
Tom:  Meaning?
Brent:  Yes.   Genesis.

(Qim Tunes)

 

This is Ground Control to Major Tom

 

It is 1992 and three or four nonverbal otties sit around a picnic table outside a residential institution in So-Cal, pointing at symbols on a cardboard alphabet.   Well, generally pointing.  Pseudonymous “Brent,” quoted above, is the sentinel, hub, the most verbal and accessible of the silent, strange fraters.  

Hidden largely by brush, a dun buck nibbles spring shoots.  Tomorrow’s clouds at even will resemble roasted marshmallows thinks one of the residents, rocking slightly forth-and-back in a plain upright chair.  Somewhere behind him, down the hall, a female exasperates: “They don’t have Mountain Dew!”

The sun groans by, fingers pop the cardboard, and letter by letter the tortured sentences eke out, their solaric love measured and constant and a little distant.   How little depends on you.

The teleologic sea slurps.  Caseworker Tom chuckles and scribbles a note, shaking his head, half incredulous and half awed, like Daniel before the Chrysolite Man.

It’s another day of small things.  Mimimum wage all around.

A Pacific breeze ruffles the notes of Caseworker Tom, who pries remorselessly about autistic influence on history… uh could I get that in CliffNotes please?  On a 1-10 scale if not too inconvenient?

:O)

The answer is typically autistic and typically “Brent” — blunt, accurate, a little dismissive.  Then Brent alludes to a New Age that’s decidedly primal to the western religious tradition – not institutionalization or ritualization, but essences.  Source.  

 

In walks the village idiot
and his face is all aglow
he’s been up all night listening to
Mohammed’s Radio

Don’t it make you want to rock
and roll all night long?

(W. Zevon)

“Mohammed’s Radio” isn’t about Islamic politics, relgion, Osama bin Badboy, the War on Terror, or even Mohammed. 

The song is about a radio, tho.  ELF pickup, zero-babel broadcast tower.  With repeaters.

The new, ideosyncratically male consciousness about to sweep ERF has strong  ottie-orientation, as many deep-autistics express masculinity in extremis.  Unsurprisingly, their relationship with God the Father  reflects.

Built by Solomon, the first temple krunkled when The Kingster started solomizing every bipedal female in the hemisphere.  

 Solomon’s many “wives” got him going on magick and goddess-worship and so much other stupid shit, you would not believe.  So his  eyes and temple went plumb loco.

In 538 B.C. the first year of Persia under Cyrus the Great, Zerubabbel trudged outta Babylon the First followed by 40 thousand disgusted, disillusioned, and just plain dissed ‘israel’ lights.  So right away Z got busy inviting god back around, shlepped together a second temple which nobody much liked, conspicuously less goldy and grand than Solly’s effort.

But Temple Two’s line was true.  Jesus as proof.

The Temple’s entrepreneurs and administrators . . . different story.  Everybody told the king to shove it so in 70 A.D. the final, most profane aspect of the Temple kablooeyed.  

No point fussing over a Temple full of folks that don’t want god.   Mights well move to Joisey.

 

 Brent:  Kins turn.  Sullen belief organizes.

– Qim Tunes

Sulley ‘n Mike

 

The hands of Zerubabbel have laid the foundation of this temple; his hands wall also complete it.  Then you will know that the LORD almighty has sent me to you.  For who despises the day of small things?

(Zech 4: 9-10)

As Rome wound down in the third century, with men fleeing marriage and the polity dominated by matrons, mass human sacrifice saw a sharp uptick in the New World across the next 1500 years.  The spirit of babylon, Empire-squatter, deserted Rome and migrated West.

Last post we ravaged Rubedo Woman with AF, and on Christmas Day in St. Peter’s Basilica, a woman wearing a red-hooded sweatshirt leaped a barrier and knocked down Pope Benedict. 

At Midnight Mass last year, same woman, same crimson garb, made a prior dash for the popester. 

Why, even here in our humble retreat from All That, we complained twice about El Popo’s Good Friday sermon in which he castigated mankind — twice — for oppressing women.

Now the pope not only knows the license number of that Mysterious fire truck, it’s imprinted on his chest!

Ow. Ch.

Sure, she’s sick, pontiff.  On that we agree.

But is she oppressed?  :O)

A VINEYARD

 

 OF RED WINE

 

Is the head attached?  YOU make the call. 

The RedShe is everywhere now, in vineyard gowns.  Why! here comes Mary J. Blige! . . .  it’s like America has some vast crater or trench that endlessly disgorges these insufferable divaskanks . . . .

Mary recently celebrated the opening of her NY Domestic Violence Shelter (for females only!) by punching her husband out at local club M2.

Nothing like a tall frosty mug of Dissonance to jolly-in the New Fear!

  Here’s Mensactivism with more. 

photo via The Spearhead

 

  ’When did the position of 1st lady begin to assume stature greater than that of the President? The text inquired. In other words, when did our society become matriarchal, Ian Duncan said to himself. Around about 1990. I knew the answer to that.

 

Our “ID SERPENT” and AF’s “Parse the Torch” appeared simultaneously, including Rubedo Woman photos/descriptions and Red Line/Carpet ritual sacrifice motifs, plus graphics of Obama’s signature, which compares (un)favorably with that of Zodiac.

AF snoops out the droiding of Sim-bama, and includes this consciousness-free Absence Note:

The necromantic and Demetrian/Kore undertones are overt in this apparently authentic note.  Here, Obama/Zodiac is the plutonic, hadean abductor of Kore, asking the Dreaming Nation to “excuse the absence” of the sacrificed Kennedys.

AF sets up the occult significance with passages from King-Kill 33 connecting the “mystical onomatology” of the Kennedy, Coffin, and Shriver families.  The note materializes or makes manifest socio-political facets of the Babalon Working of Jack Parsons, L. Ron Hubbard, and others — including Marjorie Cameron, the Scarlet Woman of Parsons.

Thus, in her A Woman’s Nation addresses, Maria Shriver steals the inclusive torch offered by ditched non-player J.F.K. and awards it to, uh, well herself.  Not to humanity, even.  To Team Woman.

Well hoo-ray, eh?

Most of the Babalon Working, including Parson’s preparations, went down in the Mojave Desert, where earlier this month Goddess Global Elders financier and Virgin Galactic Gynophile Richard Branson unveiled (hee hee) SpaceShip Two, its astral suborbital “tourist trawler.”

In September of 2007 Todd at Through the Looking Glass played pin-the-tail-on-the-dragon with a post series with strong NWO/Ceres/Galactic Virgin themes — revolving around the disappearance of aviator Steve Fossett from a Nevada desert not far from the Babalon/Mojave Working site.

Branson, Barron Hilton, and Branson let’s–commercialize-the-universe engineering partner in SpacePort America, Burt Rutan, are all onnected to Fossett’s disappearance, under circumstances saturated with blood-rite significance.  

We’ve discussed Branson’s virgin-goddess fixations before, including very public financing of the Madeleine McCann ”search.”  Above, Todd nabs him with That Woman In Red Again– this time, one Jessica McCann from Washington, District of Youknowwho.

Branson’s Virgin Records first hit was “Tubular Bells,” theme song for The Exorcist, whose central character was an adolescent virgin girl “possessed” by evil.

Shake your Moneymaker indeed!

In these modern-day Eleusinian Mysteries, these New Demetrian Rights, Kore will always appear in tandem with Ms. Ceres-US — now as Miley Cyrus and then as Linda Blair, or most archetypically as JonBenet Ramsey or Maddy McCann.

Rutan’s ultra-secret test site is, of course, in the Mojave.  Burt Rutan = Natur Trub . . . so Nature Trouble or Trouble for Nature.  Last post ”a blood-orange blob the size of a small refrigerator emerged from the dark waters” off Japan.  Said startled fisherman:

This jellyfish was like an alien.

MED-U.S.A. screwloose in the galaxoose, as Todd at TTLG confimrs that the Dr. Who series contains Rutans – shapeshifting, jellyfish-like beings with group consciousness.

Disappearing aviators, fatal crashes at Nevada Air Races, death of three engineers at Rutan’s Mojave SpacePort America site.  Etc.

Burt Rutan designed the experimental “kit” plane whose technical flaw brought Roswell-born John Denver into highspeed sideways contact with the Pacific Ocean  on October 12, 1997.  Military brat, puer aeternus, troub, full of charisma and life.

Perfect Wicker Man.  HiNRG Gatorfood. 

Or, in this case, concussion and dismemberment by seagulls.

Apparently the Juice ended up in the same gullet!

The final day of the neo-sacrificial Burning Man Festival in Nevada’s Black Rock Desert, near the Masonic Range of mountains, coincided with Steve Fossett’s last Departure, about 150 miles southeast . . . from Barron Hilton’s Flying M ranch. 

Human sacrifice, sorcery, virgin goddesses, pagan rites, druidic-vegetal skullskankery, Global Elder fems, Branson, Barron Hilton, Jellyfish Rutans  . . .  we gotta agree with Through the Looking Glass – these are none other than the Flying Monkeys of Oz, who jet throughout the land, sprinkling blood on the fields and waters of the Western Witch they serve.

All very removed and cinematic, except John Denver and Steve Fossett are actually dead.

Didn’t know Steve, but John “enjoined the Goddess” bit too much for his own good.   Ended up on her table, ‘stead of at it.

TTLF ties Phuket, Thailand to these Astorethic rites, as when 90 died in a September 16, 2007, plane crash there.  Again, September, month of the Virgin and grain/harvest cereal-moanies.

To inaugurate the Demetrian Month, on September 1 of 2009, the Secretary of State of the Goddess’ very own nation arrived in Phuket to tell sex-tourism depot Thailand, well, what to do.   (Fuck it.)

Speaking of flying worms, as we church-chat in “A Flying Scroll for Shinar,” here’s LBJ sworn-in on Air Force One, over Love Field in Pallas Dallas, triangulated by the Goddess.   (Yep there’s only one.  Ain’t that enuf?)

AF’s comments:

The Matriarchy showed its triple-face, LBJ triangulated by 3 powerful women.

 
Jackie’s pink suit was spattered with blood and she supposedly carried part of JFKs skull in her hand for some 5 hours. Doubtless energy residues from the freshly sacrificed’s blood lent a deal of power to this death and resurrection doowop.

 
We have co-equal-partner LADY BIRD Johnson, who was born in Karnack in Texas, named after Karnak in Egypt which was named after neolithic Carnac in France. The French priest that named Karnak after Carnac doubtless realised a connexion.
 

The Ladybird [insect] is named after ‘Their Lady’ – Mary, Madonna, Mother of God and/ or Christ, missnamed by the Church so the masses could bow regularly to his idolatrous falseimage.
 

Many concur that MaryMOG = a remarketed ISIS thus giving Mrs Johnson something of the Goddess role. Her husband as the new president = Osiris resurrected and LadyBird = Wife and Sister [ they're male and female LBJs] , as in the myth. To add a little extra detail JackiKennedy represents the widow of JFK/ Osiris slain, thus both represent Isis in her familial forms.
 

As Judge and swearer-in of LittleBoy , Sarah T. Hughes reps Isis in her form as she who speaks ‘Words of Power’ – Isis in her professional role.
Fantastic interps! 

In the candid photo above from 1963, we see the true Investiture of the long-planned and long-anticipated Matriarchy — the Goddess at last come not merely spiritually, nor even psychologically, but socio-politically into her inheritance as Babylon the Great, the western re-incarnation of the eastern original.

Neither JFK nor RFK were masonic insiders, like all the Simulacra YearKings, the ID SERPENT Made presidents that followed.

LBJ was Johannite-Son, Madonna’s Child, the Resurrected Master who takes his oath from the Triple Goddess, to serve the Triple Goddess, sworn before bloodstained vestements upon the Triple Goddess.

Viewing the photo thru practical magick, Ma-Son John-Son is a demon constrained within the elemental triangle.  In “South Loop Wine & Spirits” we discuss the triangular island set amidst the upper King’s Highway in New Bedford, MA — probably the “birthplace” of American feminism.  (See top register, below.)

Here’s a close-up of the basilisk-demon “constrained” within the triangle.

The power of the demon — LBJ as Setian Masculine in war-machine, corporate, godless America — is trapped and utilized by the dominant child/mother/crone feminine energy of Babalon, settling onto her throne.

Claudia Alta Taylor Johnson, Lady Bird in Yellow

Returning to the photo of the triune-feminine, Jackie = Kore, with her virginal blood, obtained via ritual sacrifice, still spattering her light coat.

Lady Bird is Demeter, Karnack-born, mater aspect of the goddess.   Ma-donna, Ma-ry, new Mother of America.  As AF points out, she is MOG, Mother of God.  (Implying that God has a “mother” that preceded Him in time and space, thus — like LBJ and all ma-sons — making God subservient to her.)

Finally, acting as usually invisible Crone, the triad is completed by the swearer-in of Osiris John Son, Federal Judge Sarah T. Hughes.  The U.S. Chief Justice administers presidential oaths, but under those unusual and “mysterious” circumstances, the Constitution was waived.

AF remarks that Hughes fulfills Isis’ professional aspect as Ringmistress and Speaker of the Words of Power.

That insight is bolstered by this quote from Wikipedia:

I reached her at home and said, ‘They need you to swear in the vice president at Love Field.  Please get out there.’  She said, ‘Is there an oath?’  I said, ‘Yes, but we haven’t found it yet.’  She said, ‘Don’t worry about it; I’ll make one up.’ She was very resourceful, you know. By the time she got to the airplane, someone had already called it into the plane.

Indeed.  Very resorceful.

Pop Quiz!  Quick!  Answer this!  Why the green face on the WW of the W?

… because she is a vegetal entity, operating at the close of the Agricultural Age . . .  the goddess/feminine collective as Demeter, Isis . . . as Sirian Ceres whose blood-sacrificial sexmagick-harvest-rites dominate post-Ice Age humanity.   Still.

In the Investiture Rite of Entered Mason Lyndon Johnson, Sarah Hughes (hews) manifests the extraterrestrial or cosmic aspect of the Goddess — Isis, Nut, etc.  Hughes’ dress is ornamented like her celestial body, polka-dotted with stars and planets – mottles on the Ladybug’s wings.

Blooddrops on Persephone’s pretty dress.

It’s 1963, and the titular Supreme Court Justice is in Washington.  But in reality Sarah T. Hughes is the New Judge . . . of America, and of the world.  Downard and AF are both right: Real America’s future was hidden in the secret  ”language” of the assassination and the swearing-in. 

Clouds of Mystery pourin’

 Confusion on the ground

Sure as Sirius is binary and sororal, the core of the JFKingkill bloodrite – Dealey Plaza in Pallas Dallas – twins Richard J. Daley Center in Babylon II, Chicago, State of Ill Noise.  New reloco-tive choice for the Gitmo Detainees.

Dallas Dealey has been well-covered, site of the city’s first Masonic Temple, triple unworthies, trinity river, and triple underpass of no return.  Bonus Triple Goddess followup swear-in.

But the action NOW is in Chicago, where the Women’s Temperance League saw to the vast expansion of organized crime in America. 

Mobtown, whence arose our Mom-in-Chief . . .  and Daley Center has its own Daley Plaza.  Special functions welcome.

  America is not a young land.  It is old and dirty and evil.  Before the settlers, before the indians.  The evil is there, waiting.

– Bill Lee to Jack Kerouac in David Cronenberg’s “Naked Lunch”

Meet the New Daley, Just Like the Old Dealey

With NY double-measured and in no mood for more, NWO operations long ago relocated to the Second City, the Babylonian Backup, from which one day would arise Semiramis herself, all black and madonna-y, wife of artificer Nimrod and Spirit of Babylon.

From the Dealey Plaza of Bush/Johnson/Daniel Plainview in Texas, central ops shift to Chicago’s Daley Plaza.

Babby’s latest dorkling just collected his Mo’ Bel Please Prize in Oz Low, Norway, preceded by A Spiral Showcase (see 1st degree supra, yes mrs. o’leary you are queen for a day) — the linked Secret Sun piece relates the “Catherine Wheel” to Egyptian cosmological rites, with Ca-ther-ine as Ha-thor . . . gee who’da guessed.

Sho nuff, a week later on December 17, it’s Hail! Atlantis! as Her Goddessness Egypt dredges Queenie from ‘neath Club Med, a nine-ton red granite pylon (think rubedo gateway) once standing on the palace grounds of Cleopatra, before the Temple of Isis.

The temple dedicated to Isis, a pharaonic goddess of fertility and magic, is at least 2,050 years old, but archaeologists believe it’s likely much older. The pylon was cut from a single slab of red granite quarried in Aswan, some 700 miles to the south, officials said.  [emphasis added]

ikipedia on Zerubbabel:

He was determined to be among the wisest of men in Persia, following a dissertation on women and truth, which he presented before Cyrus. He was given sanction to rebuild the Temple and return the sacred Temple vessels that Darius had preserved after the conquest of Babylon.

 

Musta been a awful short dissertation!  ;O)

Recall — Cyrus took the Persian Throne in 538 B.C., and God’s Temple via Z began in 537.

The very next year — so a Third Day of sorts – a momentous eschatologic event is recorded by Daniel, a learned  Hebrew influential at Babylon’s courts . . . thence snatched-up greedily by Cyrus after the Persian Conquest. 

Daniel 10 gossimers us off to Cyrus’ court.  (No, not Miley Cyrus!  That’s our Babylon.)

While Zerubbabel strides off the Zones of New Jerusalem, like Charles Bronson in the Sonoran of Once Upon a Time in the West, Daniel wobbles on the banks of the Tigris confronting — rather gulpily  — a Chrysolite Man.  Even though the folks with Daniel didn’t actually see Mr. Chrysolite, like pore Dan, they flee just on G.P.   So that tells ya.

Chrysolite says it took three weeks to reach Daniel, due to interference from the Prince of Persia — the ”spiritual entity” overshadowing the latest empire, rising Persia.

As Zerubbabel stomps around in the dust, hoping for God where currently es nada,  Chrysolite lays out his Endtime Prophecy for Daniel, who by this time was wishing he’d just gone ahead and worshipped a damned calf.

Chapter 12, The End Times, closes Daniel’s book concordant with Revelation, Isaiah, Zechariah and Malachi.

The Chrysolite Comm concludes with assurance to Daniel of resurrection and inheritance.

So . . . not so bad, all in all, figgers Daniel.  Yes, resurrecting means I’m gong to be dead.

However do not spring Chrysolite on me again.  Please.  Trying to rest here.  A little warning huh guys? 

It played like a scene from a holiday movie – a mystery couple, who didn’t leave their names or numbers, walked into a restaurant, finished their meal and then set-off a chain reaction of generosity that lasted for hours.

 

Good night now it’s time to go home.  And he makes it fast with one more thing.

See, I have placed before you an open door that no one can shut. I know that you have little strength, yet you have kept my word and have not denied my name. I will make those who are of the synagogue of Satan, who claim to be Jews though they are not, but are liars—I will make them come and fall down at your feet and acknowledge that I have loved you.  (Rev. 3)

For Christmas this year, l.d. got a bejewelled string of intelligible words from a nonverbal autistic boy, including “I love you.”

It’s humbling and awesome.  Whose God is like mine, that lets the silent child speak?

Oh people, this water is good, real good.  It will restore you.  The true mountain dew.

‘In a little while I will once more shake the heavens and the earth, the sea and the dry land.  I will shake all nations, and the desired of all nations will come, and I will fill this house with glory,’ says the LORD Almighty.  (Haggai 2)

 

Before there was a Temple — the physical signet of a spiritual condition amongst humanity that God would want to indwell — there was a sanctuary, before that a simple tent, and before that the idea that things’d go better around hell here if we invited god over once in awhile.  You know.  Make him right at home.

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