The boy cried out/gaily from the ground/at the joy/of something he had found
(Dan and Catherine Peek)
Some of you Punishment Gluttons recall this re-run ottie click. This isn’t one of Annie’s autistic sons, but last week the re-verb sounded on her porch, with robin eggs aligned harmonic, blue as new eyes.
Right on the edge of hatchtime, seems Mama Robin vamoosed the coop, allergic to Fourth-of-July bunting near the nest. When the Offending Sigils were removed, she cautiously returned — only to be rousted again a day later by close M-80 reports. Bombs-bursting-in-air, celebrating America’s Independence.
Every year on the same day, the Natives gather to celebrate my father’s death.
L.D. didn’t caper on the birthday of Goddess Homeland. He grieved at the betrayal of the nation’s sons.
This’d be a good time for birds everywhere to remember whence come their eggs. Hint, it ain’t The Goddess.
When autistic boys line up quackers or shoes, they are imposing order on chaos, thus their distress at attempts to interfere with or deconstruct that order. Certain otties gossimer the great waves, smiting Tiamat’s unruly aqua with their mindrods.
Greenwich meantime, Ben Fairhall reduxes the dark waters, and Witnesses the Marian Dawn.
LOL. Sounds like Ben’s expecting! Will the London Books take a few bob on the Old Grrl?
In that last quarter of the twentieth century, the whole world seemed to sicken. Civilized institutions, whether old or new, fell, as if some primal disorder was re-asserting itself. And men asked themselves: Why should this be?
(opening voice-over of Quatermass, Episode One, “Ringstone Round”)
The Goddess of the North arises in Northumberland, 400-yards long and nekkid as a jaybird robin. Let them eat Ceres-eal! saith Marie. Three times a day. All shall love me and despair!
In the design depiction above, the Great Goddess’ lower-trunk is, literally, mere-bound. A water entity. Like that Grainy Grrl, Mount Tamalpais (tam-ul-pie-us) across the Golden Gate from San Fran is a Virgin Goddess whose western slopes sub/merge with Pacific-o.
Viewed from Vallejo, looking west, Mount Tamalpais mirrors the supine Northumberland Goddess. Mt. Tam’s legend as Indian Maiden probably extends back millennia, through various oral-traditioned indigenous language groups. L.D.’s dad oft repeated the legend, as the mountain, about 20 miles from Vallejo, is so imposing and prominent throughout the North Bay Area.
The Coast Miwok called Mt. Tam the Sleeping Maiden.
This page recounts the Miwok legend, plus the Lakota belief that Mt. Tam is the “holy right eye” of the “Great Turtle” — with Mt. Diablo, which appeared in our last post in conuinctio conjunctivitis conjunction with Zodiac, as left or unconscious eye.
But the best of each trip
is the Golden Gate Bridge
and the road like a snake
that takes me back to my home ridge
(Jesse Colin Young, from “Ridgetop” — a song about his home on Mt. Tam)
Your dynamo’s been up n down that road oftener than a plebe on a First Degree ladder. He’s mystery-tramped all over the bushy maid. One summer eve, after a day at the Pacific, he and girlfriend hiked over the western face of The Princess, back to our car at Pan Toll Ranger Station. (Pan. Toll. Yuppers!) As we passed along a fire-road, a whole procession of deer appeared just above, hovering on the hillock’s brow, still and silent, watching the sun crash behind us.
Toll is an important and frequent word in Qim Tunes. It has various cognates, dependant on context, but generally might equal collectivity, with a major secondary meaning of downtrodden or poor. Often toll appears in a context of spirituality or judgment, describing a group of souls bound in a common enterprise, or under a common malady, curse, or travail.
We recently covered Zodie’s first four Ceres-ial-moanies:
— Lake Herman Road on the Vallejo-Benicia (red) line, very near where Bill Graham intended to build his ampitheatre . . . soon after which his helcopter finished downside-up at Sears Point (Seers’ point) — dangling from the power-lines between Vallejo and Mt. Tam
— Blue Rock Springs Golf Course/Park in East Vallejo, about a mile from Lake Herman
— Lake Berryessa in the hills above the Valley of the Moon (Napa County jurisdiction)
— Presidio Heights in S.F. overlooking the Pacific
Recall Zodiac’s promise on the car of his Berryessa slaves:
(prop reproduction — quite faithful tho — dig the checkerboard base!)
Brian Hartnell’s (heart-knell/knoll) car door is the medium for Zodiac’s tally-to-date. The third date-inscription, “Sept. 27 by knife,” refers to the victims he slew on Berryessa’s shores, a few minutes prior — Cecilia Shepherd and Hartnell. (Yep, Shepherd.)
Cenotaph from the First Section of the Egyptian Book of Caverns — the bottom register depicting “afterlife slaves” with hands bound behind backs (exactly as Zodiac bound Hartnell and Shepherd at Berryessa)
Cenotaph from the Sixth Section of the Book of Caverns, with bottom register showing more “paradice slaves” being tortured and decapitated by three “goddesses”
Note that in Zodie’s ritual-schema, “Vallejo” is the “site” of all his killings. The “Vallejo” inscription is the “ruling tessellate” in this instance, the locus of his o/c mind’s feverdream. Beneath the geomantic inscription, as in the lowest registers of Egyptian codices, duat-slaves are identified.
Dominion is established with Zodiac’s “gunsight” mark, set over the tessellate-locale and paradice slaves (the victims) — like a pharaoh’s mark over executive orders. [No, I’m not going to run it again. Stop complaining.]
Here’s Zodie’s “Halloween 4-teen” card from October 27, 1970. At this point, killings by knife and gun were already confirmed. It’s strongly suspected that in an aborted murder attempt, Zodie set the car of Kathleen Johns on fire on March 22, 1970, on the edge of Maze Road, just off Kalifornia Interstate 5. (See prior posts re Michael Jackson, Jackson Browne, etc.)
That accounts for all the Lord High Executioner methods, except “by rope.”
The Zodiac-Manson Connection suggests, like many researchers, that on April 19, 1970, Zodiac hanged Pat Tan, a Eurasian girl, from an oak near Bootjack Camp on Mount Tamalpais, with rope and an electric cord:
There was a Pan Toll Station (Pat Tan) leading to Bootjack Camp at this State Park. Zodiac was connected to three other parks: Blue Rock Springs, Lake Berryessa and the Presidio area with Julius Kahn Park.
The sharp investigator that found out the girl’s identity was Marin County coroner / investigator Keith Craig. Craig found a key in Ms. Tan’s pocket and traced it to a Greyhound bus terminal locker in the area. In that locker he found an address book with phone numbers. One of those numbers was to the University of Chicago. There was a professor there that had met Tan in 1966. Tan had been living in San Francisco since March 22, 1970 (the day Kathleen Johns was abducted.)
Did the Zodiac-Manson Connection just say Chicago? Them’s the Three Magick Psillibles these days!
Many of the Elektra-fried leylines of modern ritual magick lead, unsurprisingly, to the Midwest hub of Columbia’s heartland.
illustration: Manson-Zodiac Connection
Pat Tan suggests Tamalpais, the Sleeping Princess. Both are young and exotic or Eastern. Pat Tan almost anagrams Pan Toll, the ranger-station a couple miles from Bootjack Camp. (Pat Tan = Pan Tat)
L.D.’s been to Bootjack Camp often. Couple thousand feet elevation, Bootjack’s a dark little campsite just off a main trail — picnic table and grill, heavy oak and brush, with a small stream on one side of camp, at the foot of a steep ridge.
Bootjack Trail winds down the southern slopes of Mount Tam, into the deep redwood stands of Muir Woods. The mid-July gatherings of the nation’s “elite,” the Bohemian Club, take place at a private grove near Guerneville/Monte Rio, and a public site, Muir Woods Grove. Both are “Bohemian Groves,” very close to the Pacific, that abyssic realm of Leviathan — Neptune and Tiamat.
And the children of Israel did secretly those things that were not right against the LORD their God, and they built them high places in all their cities, from the tower of the watchmen to the fenced city.
And they set them up images and groves in every high hill, and under every green tree:
(2 Kings 17: 9-10)
So in probable Zodiac-victim Pat Tan, we glimpse The Virgin’s reflection. . . in Princess Tamalpais — the mountain itself — and in the Northumberland Goddess.
Goddess icons and worship mean pagan mentalities, occultism, enslavement, and ritual blood sacrifice. Lots of it. To keep the Ma-sheen shiny and sleek.
Recently someone compared late-20th-century American males to late-nineteenth-century buffalo.
Boy howdy! as they say on Peckerwood Hill in Texas.
Summer days, where did you go?
you let me down so bad
Clouds fill the sky
Gone is the dream of Happy Hunting Ground
Wild buffalo played!
and I never saw a rainy day
but it looks like summer days ain’t coming back
Cross-country from Mt. Tam and Mt. Diablo in Kalifornia, and from Willow-ville in Sarah’s State, Old Style masonic HQ South Carolina is in lock-down, the citizenry cereously fondling their triggers.
Make you go blind!
Oops already is!
Both Charlestown and Columbia, South Carolina, are Rite strongholds. Origin of Manson’s amphibious basilisk, the state borders the Atlantic, bookending La Pacific.
Charleston, also called Chucktown and The Holy City, was American Masonry’s official birthplace, one of the first established European settlements on the continent. (For more on Egyptian codices, Zodiac, Manson, and South Carolina, see Ragna Rok and Man Son Role from October 2005.)
Four people have already been shot to death in Gaffney, S.C., by a “serial-killer.” Gaffney from Gaelic Gamhna or Gamhain, meaning calf. Figger golden calf worship, as when Moses descended with the rules, only to find the Israelites had already regressed to idolatry . . . the minute he turned his back, basically. Speaks volumes about human psychology and the madness of crowds.
Also relevant is the recent Hathor/cow thread, including the mysterious “Caddo” bovine deaths, heavy on the Ritual Sauce. You want jalapenos with that or Freedom Fries? See AF and Newspaceman (currently undercover as Mr. Pasta Bake) for more.
The English surname from Gaffney/Gamhna/Gamhain is Caulfield — sure to widen the orbs of those grokking John Lennon’s ritual slaying — Mark David Chapman, calmly waiting for the cops, reading his “bible,” The Catcher in the Rye, while Lennon dies nearby.
Another day, another grain-sacrifice, eh Chappie? Ho hum.
The book’s protagonist is Holden Caulfield.
Secondarily, a gaff is a long pole, hooked on the end, used to spear and boat fish.
Third-adarily, a gaffe is an error, especially in social settings.
Fourth, a gaffer is an old man or boss — Sam Gamgee, in LOTR, calls his father “my old gaffer”
Fif, in moviemaking a gaffer controls the electrical/lighting systems
Finally, Gaffney is possibly an altered spelling of the German Ga(f)fner, a topographic name for a cottage dweller, from Gafene, “large basket.”
Ring the gongl? How bout Zechariah 5, the endtimes prophecy in which a large basket, or ephah, is “removed” to the “Land of Shinar.” Within the ephah is a woman, representing wickedness. Ephah, originally an Egyptian word, is a measurement of iniquity, associated with the “flying scroll,” an instrument of judgment — one side cursing thieves, the other cursing liars, forswearers, or those who misuse God’s name.
I was a diesel fixer, fixed a diesel, diesel fixed me
What a weasel
And baby was a Workshop Owner
Baby and me were ripe for the picking
That was the day we ran into Albert Flasher
Speaking of Uncle Albert, the Invisible Circus, Pop Kings and Red Line head-ons, two Monorail Trains crashed this morning in the Magic Kingdom, killing one operator, and twinning the recent redline pileup in Columbia’s Dis Trick. The link contains source comments from Disney VP of Communications, Michael Griffin.
Last Tuesday, June 30, a man was killed by a Chicago Transit Authority Red Line subway train. Eight days before, on June 22, nine people died on the District of Columbia-MaryLand border, ridin’ the Old Red Line.
In the wake of the Red Witch milkshake at Willow, Alaska, Governor Palin announced her resignation, in favor of a “higher calling.”
God help us all. Here’s hoping Sarah means staying home and shutting up.
If she can break away a moment from watchdogging Willow — even when dotter isn’t threatened — perhaps she’ll turn Hathoric Eye to this fifth-grade teacher in Elk Grove, Kalifornia, who distributed X-rated vids of herself to the kids and their families. (Elk lodges/fraternities + goddess grove = libidic magick.)
All a Terrible Mistake, doncha gnow . . . might even say a Big Ole gaffe . . . and, of course, all is forgiven. Live and let live!
The teacher won’t even lose her job, much less be prosecuted to the Fullest Extent of the Law, sentenced to decades in prison, placed on the Sexual Predators Lifetime Registry, and be tortured and sodomized.
No indeed, not a bit of it! That’s only for the Inkorrect Gender. Would the Media, the Authorities, and American Sossity be so benevolent had a male teacher handed out his personal fuck-flicks to the grade-schoolers?
He’d be in Central Holding — probly a little worse for wear — awaiting his preliminary hearing, and talking with his P.D. about plea-bargaining his (multiple) felonies from a probable 30-year sentence down to 20.
With no time off for split colons.
Luckily, the hordes of female lawyers, judges, and law professors churned out by The Gynogulag the past half-century are fully prepared to administer The Maximum on all Perpetrators equally . . . when they’re male.
Otherwise, it’s an Oopsie. Never mind. Widdle boo-boo.
Most of the damage is already done and probably irreversible, but WTF, we’ll keep pissin against the hurricane. One example from legion:
Here’s influential and respected Berkeley Law Professor Nancy K.D. Lemon, editor of the Domestic Violence Lawbook that she and her fellow illnesses use to “educate” the Kalifornia Judiciary (when the judges and lawyers aren’t attending Diversity Workshops or Multicultural & Trans-sexual Re-education Forums.)
“The history of women’s abuse began over 2,700 years ago in the year 753 BC. It was during the reign of Romulus of Rome that wife abuse was accepted and condoned under the Laws of Chastisement. … The laws permitted a man to beat his wife with a rod or switch so long as its circumference was no greater than the girth of the base of the man’s right thumb. The law became commonly know as ‘The Rule of Thumb.’ These laws established a tradition which was perpetuated in English Common Law in most of Europe.”
There we have it. Only true word in the whole paragraph is and. The Law is whatever Nancy and The Grrls feeeeeel at any particular moment.
The “reign of Romulus of Rome?!” From a LAW PROFESSOR!?
Obviously, facts are Inutile Impediments here in the Homeland of Goddess Justice. Once upon a pre-feminist (non) revolution, fifth-graders knew that Romulus was a mythological figure, not a political “ruler” of Rome — much less an opportunity for princessified haters to bully the judiciary and propagandize the citizenry.
Now the fifth-grade boys are drugged and intimidated by the matriarchy — when the class isn’t watching Teach dispensing blowjobs to her gardeners.
Facts, like truth, turn out to be a “guy thing.”
“V is for Vampires.” Apt title for that blogpost!
All is well, however. The sparklers sparkled and the firecrackers cracked, the nation patted its back, and Lady Liberty’s crown, for the first time since 9-11, re-opened for habitation.
“I feel the Statue of Librety represents global unity, a sign that our world must unify,” said Barbara McLean, 57, of Atlanta. After ascending the total of 354 steps to the statue’s crown, she sang “America the Beautiful” — her deep voice resonating off the low, rounded ceiling of the crown’s interior — before fellow visitors broke into a hefty applause. [emphasis added]
No doubt Barbara sang “America the Beautiful” with lusty joy. It’s her statue, her crown, her song, her country, and her NWO tyranny unity. Babs doesn’t need Maria Shriver’s confirmation that It’s a Woman’s Nation. From her high tiara seat, she need only gaze in any direction.
Tomorrow, the three aligned eggs will be buried. Mother was off the nest, distracted by mere national pomp, as America celebrated Herself.
The human race is not an experiment.
The difference between Nature and Woman is that Nature knows she isn’t independent.
Even a country robin can tell you that.
Little Dynamo didn’t chirp much on the Fourth. While the Goddess of the North gazed heavenward with vast anticipation, l.d. consoled his dad, face down and spread across his own livingroom rug, blood seeping from his head.
Never was any investigation. Babs ruled no fowl play. She’s the boss.