I'm a big fan of the film Bedazzled, both the Cook/Moore original and the Fraser/Hurley remake (shut up). Both films riff on the old Faust routine, the proverbial --or actual, in this case-- deal with the Devil in order to show you that the house always wins and you always get the shite end of the stick. Natural facts, is all.
The takeaway in Bedazzled is that the Devil isn't just enormously powerful, he's actually the greatest legal mind in history. There's a reason Satan is introduced in the Book of Job as the "Adversary," or essentially, Jehovah's Attorney General. He knows the Law like nobody's business and he's here to make sure you choke on it.
Did you miss me? Oh, you did? That's so sweet, thank you. In case you were wondering, I was at APOCALARP-CON 2018, drilling the breakdown of the Grid when the poles flip, or the Sun burps, or Russia launches Coldbringer, or whatever. The great thing is that we didn't even have to leave the house! In fact, we couldn't have left the house even if we wanted to!
Well, another year, another Academy Awards. And another pile of clunky, ham-fisted symbolism dropped on our heads. Jimmy Kimmel, who used to run around asking random women to reach around in his pants pockets on a show that usually went to credits running footage of buxom young girls jumping on a trampoline, is a "woke" intersectionalist all of a sudden and shot up some fish in a barrel with his obligatory yet bloodless Harvey Weinstein jokes. Jimmy, it would have been edgy to tell Harvey Weinstein jokes last year. This year it's just cringey.
Well, it's that time of year again: time to marvel at the increasingly-obsessive and progressively explicit symbolism of the Academy Awards, aka the Oscars, aka the Ausurs, aka the Osiris Awards.
Hey; I have really bad OCD, too. I get it. Mine's more focused on semi-obscure Scottish divas than on blowing up the world and rebuilding it according to a millennia-old master plan drawn up in the throne-rooms of Babylon during the Third Dynasty of Ur, but who am I to judge, right? Can't we all be broth...sorry, unfortunate choice of words there.
I can say that given all the new emergent archetypal dominants we've been discovering, this stuff seems kind of quaint and corny and old-fashioned. But seeing that Hollywood is increasingly the Audio-Visual department of the MIC, it still gives an idea of where their heads are at these days and where things might be going.
Hey-hey JB, BJ asked me to copy you on the latest strategies for bringing a new "icon" to market. I've talked to BM, VH, KFC, ZZ and TP, and they've "signed off" on these very exciting ideas "collated" from a number of different "think-tank boys" like Brookings, Tavistock and Iron Mountain. What's the "angle?" Well, those pointy-heads ran the numbers and came to the conclusion that a "head-on assault" doesn't really "cut the mustard" when "pushing" (that's dope lingo) a new idea or belief, so you have to take the "subtle approach" and let the public "discover" it for themselves. Have a read and give us "the word from on high." I've highlighted all the important passages.
The Winter Olympics just wrapped up, and did so in style. We saw several Secret Sun Scrabble bases being hit (twins, Orange, etc etc) throughout the past two weeks, but I was particularly interested in the massive Orb/Pearl ritual, led by a gauntlet of young women dressed in cloaks and hoods.
No, seriously- check it out. And wonder with great admiration.
Huh. I guess those of us who had our misgivings about the narrative being spun out of Parkland were proven right. Yet again. Yet again. I guess we'll have to make do with the sense of accomplishment, however.
Well, the dust settles and a clearer picture begins to emerge of the events at Marjory Stoneman Douglas, and it just keeps getting sicker and uglier.
Forget all the nonsense about crisis actors and the rest of it, you don't need to go poking around fake-ass news sites to see just rancid and foul this looks for every single person whose job it was to prevent this from happening, from Cruz's guardians to the school administrators to the Broward County Sheriff's Office and all the way to the very top of the FBI.
How y'all doing today? Feeling good? Yeah? Terrific. Well, I don't know about you but I sure as hell am in a coma. So either you're all just figments of my imagination or you're all in comas too and we're communicating via unconscious telepathy, what they euphemistically call the "Coma Internet." So let's get into it.
No doubt you've heard by now. I don't even know what to say about this shit anymore. I actually don't want to say anything at all, that's how bone-weary I am of these events.
But unfortunately, this all played out like the Secret Sun Scrabble game from Hell. And it's yet another example of something we all could have avoided if we took a holistic and synchromystic view of the world we're all stuck on.
And when I say "your brain," what I really mean is the Cosmo-Demonic intelligence currently rewriting reality using our large hadron colliders and quantum-computing platforms. And maybe your brain a little.
Wow, the hits just keep on coming. For reasons I'm not entirely comfortable acknowledging, we're seeing more and more focus placed on Sin City these days. We're going to be seeing a lot more besides, so gird your loins.
Like I've always said, you don't ever need to wonder if someone's trying to drill a meme, theme or symbol into your skull. The massive PR and advertising firms that are paid extremely well to hammer these things home tend to take a Shock-and-Awe approach to their work.
The question then becomes why and where is it all going.
The Winter Olympics opened in a subtler and more understated manner than we've become accustomed to, symbolically-speaking. But then again, the Somme Offensive was subtler and more understated than the mass rituals we saw in London back in 2012. Luckily, those of you who've been witnessing my descent into a Lovecraft character-type madness reading the blog over the past several months were uniquely positioned to decode the signaling we are seeing this year.
After watching the Super Bowl tonight I came to the realization there are only two possibilities: either I am in a coma and you're all part of my coma-dream, or Reality as we once knew it is indeed dead and buried, kaput, over, done with.
The Philae-Delphi Vegas beat the New Atlantis Baphomets in a game marked by calls so surreal and inexplicable that the normally-staid and conventional team of Al Michaels and Chris Collinsworth couldn't quite believe that they were seeing, and let everyone know in no uncertain terms. And even they missed another howler.
Poor guys. They weren't copied on the memo announcing Reality's untimely passing.
Pretty flowers? Pretty. Do you like them? I'm very hungry.
Well, it's the NFLim's Big Day. The Big Game is finally here; the Super Blue Blood Bowl LII. And they're pulling out all the stops to ensure that the Vegas are well-pleased with their adorations and ceremonial gladiator games.
I wonder if the "Super Blue Blood Moon"-- a phrase no one ever heard before Reality got sick and died-- isn't just a symptom of this new reality of ours going in and of phase. Like a week or so from now you'll be seeing the term written into books published hundreds of years ago. Then we'll collect old greeting cards commemorating the event. Then we'll see Prince movies with that title. Well, at least one.
So I wasn't hallucinating; just as with the new Justin Timberlake video, the rest of the world seems to share my opinions of the Grammys; it was the lowest-rated broadcast for the show ever. I know it's hard to believe but ordinary folks really don't enjoy having pampered aristocrats and multimillionaire hedonists tell them how horrible they all are for three hours. I know, I know, it's awful.
You know, sometimes I wonder about people who feel compelled to amputate their own legs or eat broken glass or tattoo their eyeballs. Only not so much when I force myself to watch things like the Grammys.
Who am I to judge, right?
But there are emerging archetypal dominants-- which is just a fancy way of saying "occult totems and icons" -- to glean, so here we all are.
Katy Perry, who sitteth upon many waters, is like a thermometer. If I want to know what the social-engineering/media mind-control climate is as the moment, I just see what our friend Katheryn Elizabeth Hudson's up to lately and it gives me a pretty good read.
And knock me down with a feather if Katy isn't just gaga over Mermaids. Has been for years.
Well, so much for that. After nearly 50 years of arguments and theories, NASA finally shoveled dirt onto the Apollo mission's coffin. While there's plenty of evidence that this may have been a gradual disclosure process, Apollo could also have been collateral damage in the ongoing Deep State civil war.
Holy smokes, everything is coming out of the toy box lately. There's so much going on out there I can't even begin to keep track of it all. I know all y'all out there will have so much to add to the conversation here, so let me just drop some headlines on you and connect a few dots here and there.
The Phylax phugazi continues to grow more ridiculous by the day. No one can seem to get their stories straight.
First it was the Golden Dawn who pulled the Watcher off his Pedestal of Veneration, then it was changed to "far-rightists" when someone informed the hapless authorities that the Golden Dawn are actually anti-Christian neopagans.
In a stroke of improbability so improbabilistic it has shaken the very foundations of Probabilism itself, the PhilaeDelphi Vegas beat the Twinesota Vikings and will be squaring off against Twin Brady and his New Atlantis Baphomets!
I know what you're thinking-- is this a headline from 2009? Sadly, no. Yes, under normal circumstances, this nonsense would be as newsworthy as a Paris Hilton sextape but normal circumstances called in sick this year. 2017 is covering for them.
So if you're still nostalgic for 2017, dig those fidget-spinners and pussy-hats out of the attic because there's loads more 2017 on the way.
A lot of people have asked me over the past ten years how you can tell if a symbol-set is circulating through the culture through synchronistic means as opposed to being injected into the culture by conscious design.
My answer has always been that if a symbol or meme is popping up at weird intervals and no one is paying much attention to it, then it's probably synchronicity.
On the other hand, if you're constantly getting hammered in the face with a symbol or meme, and it's the same goddamn note being struck over and over again, then that's a campaign.
Three months ago, I told you guys that this thing we've been looking at here since Chris Cornell died-- whatever the hell it actually is-- was just beginning. And here we are, yet again.
Dolores O'Riordan, former lead singer for 90s dream pop superstars The Cranberries, died suddenly this morning in the Hilton London, just off Kensington Gardens. She was working on a new album with a new group called D.A.R.K at a nearby recording studio.
"Some people are falling for it." Of course they are, because those mannequins don't look anything at all like oversized action figures. And the bumpkins and naifs who attend the Consumer Electronics Show aren't used to seeing these kinds of exhibits, right?
But hey, you gotta push those antihuman memes so what's a little white lie for the cause?
The thing about Never-Ending Rituals is they never end. And you never know where and when the next phase of it is going to pop up.
Well, this time the action is in a suburb of Athens, Greece. A FB group member posted a story on a controversial statue the government has installed of a red, eagle-headed angel sculpture entitled "Phylax," meaning protector.
The mayor has defended the controversial installation, claiming the statue is a depiction of Talos, the ancient defender of Crete.
Never mind this is Athens, not Crete, and that the statue bears no resemblance at all to any Talos I could find.
The Las Vegas narrative continues to unravel like an old sweater. I have to admit I haven't been keeping an eye on the cover-up because I stopped believing the official story as soon as I bypassed the mainstream media accounts and looked at the actual, y'know, evidence.
Another X-Files premiere, another social media firestorm.
Twitter seemed to reach a new fever-pitch of instant apoplexy after the airing of "My Struggle III." Accusations of misogyny and rape apology are being hurled at Chris Carter, based on a revelation that A., is a recycling of a very early X-Files trope and B., may in fact be a lie.
With all this in mind, Raj Sisodia and I have launched a special series with a spoiler-happy analysis of "My Struggle III" for the revived Secret Sun Radio Mystery Hour. Like its predecessors, "My Struggle III" was a slideshow of conspiracy culture circa 2018. It showed once again that Chris Carter loves nothing better to poke at hornet's nests, even if his reach often exceeds his grasp. But he clearly pays very close attention to what's going on in the Information Underground.
I have big ideas for The Secret Sun Radio Mystery Hour so be sure to like, share and leave comments.