Was this a wedding or a gaslighting on a scale heretofore unseen? Yeah, I realize these events are usually ubiquitous and tinfoil-chewingly irritating, but I don't know. There's something off about this one.
I mean, Prince Henry taking a bride on the anniversary of King Henry beheading his consort? That strike anyone as a bit odd? Aren't these Windsor types supposed to be obsessed with symbolism and protoc...
Oh.
Reading all kinds of stories about this new Princess as, well, how she's not exactly Miss Popularity in show biz circles, or for that matter, with her own family.
Even the unusually-accommodating Wendy Williams has slagged Princess Pearly off as an "opportunist."
And then there's Harry, who is widely believed to not in fact be part of the Windsor bloodline, with all kinds of observers speculating that one Major Ginger-Stud-Incubator-Jones Hewitt is in fact the baby-daddy (Hewitt having been a widely-rumored paramour of Lady Di).
Stay out of tunnels, kids. For real. Maybe move to the Marshall Islands or something while you're at it. If not, I hear Kazakhstan has a wonderful asylum program for well-heeled celebrities.
That's right, World; America's First Princess is a descendant of America's first serial killer. Where do you even start with this?
Oh, I know! How about here? The Saxe-Coburgs were once spirit-cooking enthusiasts. How's that for a start?
Meghan and Harry are a match made in...well, probably not Heaven. Maybe more Las Vegas. But a descendant of HH Holmes and the descendants of Vlad the Impaler?
They must have served gallons of adrenochrome at that reception.
Funny coincidence: Holmes was doing his dirty business during the gaslight era of urban illumination. OK, stupid coincidence.
Yeah, manning the staff on the honeymoon flight with nothing but Harry's and Meghan's doesn't sound remotely ritualistic or anything. And "Flight 93?" Why does that sound so familiar?
Bonus factoid: October the first is written as 1/10 in British notation.
Bonus bonus factoid: HH Holmes was said to get most of his killin' done during the 1893 World's Fair.
And then there's this.
OK, the headline is meaningless because of course everything everywhere is now creepy and sexist all the time. But do note that this is in reference to Markle's appearance on (conspicuously Scottish) Craig Ferguson's talk show.
Despite the sputtering and spewing of hyper-privileged Tumblrinas and Twittards, Meghan seems to be enjoying herself. Judging from her body language, at least.
But I must admit this all seems loaded with subtext, as if these two are sharing a few secret jokes with each other.
And what's the point of her having a "strangely hairless body" and resembling a dolphin? Aren't these starlets generally obsessive about their shavings and waxings? And swimmer as in the famous "swimmer's body?"
I'm smelling some Knowles' First Law here. Just a whiff.
SECRET SUN SCIENCE FRIDAY
Yeah, not really feeling that ruling. Feeling a bit Gary Webb or perhaps a dash of Kurt Cobain from where I'm sitting. Plus, Orange.
Sleep well, good sir. Let us pray you did not die in vain.
Of course it's Sweden. Where else would it possibly be?
God natt för alltid, Sverige. Just remember you did it all to yourself. We'll always have all those ABBA and Cardigans records to remember you by. Plus, Komeda.
Me being me, I can't decide if this is a real story or just some pre-emptive gaslighting for that inevitable "accidental" missile launch against Russia.
Who better to blame than some poor grunts tripping balls in the middle of Bumfuck-Nowhere, Wyoming? You couldn't CRISPR yourself up better patsies.
Sorry, Vlad. It was those goddamn kids and their hippie dope. It won't happen again.
Wow; some Grade-A War of the Worlds-remake gaslighting here. With a Soylent Green infusion for maximum subliminal effect. Well played, fellows
"Please don't teach it to kill?" Oh, OK. Since you asked nicely.
Yes. Get used to those "asteroids."
Get used to those asteroids in stationary orbit around Jupiter. Get used to them when they assume stationary orbit around the Moon, allegedly. Or when they hover over major population centers.
Just go about your business, citizen.
Wait, hold up just a second. Where's your Orange? OK, I need to take a look at your chip-hand, sir.
Rare birth of live reindeer twins? Sure, in--wait for it-- Scotland.
And "live Twins are extremely rare?" Where have I heard that before?
It turns out this is extremely rare as well. Near the Twin Cities, incidentally. As well as the Shepherd Boy River. Are you with me, folks?
Love the bit about the chap who found this poor creature "hunting for mushrooms." Let's hope he hadn't sampled any beforehand.
Oh boy, looks like a scorpion fight a' brewin' here. I'd normally bust out the popcorn but it looks as if this is one of those reindeer-twin-rare occassions when a media outlet (non-mainstream, of course) actually went to bat for economic justice, as opposed to the divide-and-rule, "social justice" mischief they spend most of their time spewing like jackanapes.
All I can is say is poor Grimes. She looks like she's going to have to choose between her new sugar daddy boyfriend and her mentally-sick stalkers on Tumblr and Instagram fans.
(Grimesy, if you're reading this just remember Our Lady, Queen Dowager of Sibyls is always there to shoulder your burdens and make all the hurt go away. Two words: Victorialand).
But just remember, kids: anyone who tells there's any justice without economic justice is either a dupe or a shill. Or both.
Well, I've been saying the normalization process always begins with "controversy" and it looks like this Show Dogs psyop debacle is no exception.
That creaking sound you keep hearing is the Overton Window moving, ever-so-slowly. Pray for us all, Our Lady.
And what have I told you about timing?
Well, here's a story; Pearly Markle rocks a Goat dress in her first wedding dress. Why is this significant?
Well, maybe it isn't. But it's certainly sync-nificant.
Because the day before the Royal Chymical Nuptials, another comely minor-celebrity of mixed-race origin took a fatal dive from the 25th floor of the Gotham (literally "Goat-Home") Hotel in the heart of Masonic Manhattan.
Stephanie Adams was a former Playboy Playmate (centerfolded in 1992) who was married to a multi-millionaire chiropractor (!) named Charles Nicolai.
She was locked in a custody battle with Nicolai and had been told she wouldn't be able to take her son to Europe when she went to summer with her new boyfriend. Which allegedly inspired Ms. Adams' final plunge.
A bit of name-gaming: Stephanie is the feminine variant of Stephen, meaning "Crown." Or if you prefer "Garland." Do note the Corona logo there.
Adam is often traced to the Hebrew, meaning "ruddy." No, seriously.
What indeed. But do note that Felder is a very bright chap and lawyers of his caliber are noted for choosing their words very carefully.
Our Ms. Adams was also an entrepreneur and had a New Agey business of her own. Fascinating graphics, don't you think? Utterly fascinating.
As is this necklace here, featuring what is commonly known as the Maltese or Templar Cross. I should add that I've seen that exact design a couple other times recently, in connection with the Saint Faith business in Texas. So there's that.
Of course, rooster-eyed readers recognize the cross as the cross of Shamash, the sun-god from, you guessed it, ancient Babylon. Odd that such an image would pop up in this particular context, don't you think?
What's more, our doomed Playmate also claimed to be a descendent of America's best-known Freemason-haters, Braintree's own John and John Quincy Adams.
JQ hated the Freemies so much he actually ran for President on the Anti-Masonic Party ticket.
Remember also both Adams were not only Presidents (the only father-son team other than the Bushes, the elder of which was born in Braintree-bordering Milton, Mass while his notorious dad was working in da 'Tree), they were both down with the Lyre.
Hey, I never said the Adams weren't involved in non-Freem secret societies.
Speaking of Heaven or the Vegas, the "world's largest orgy" had to leave its appointed venue in the Embassy Suites and move to the local sex museum.
Was the Revelation 17 symbolism of a Mystery-Babalon-the-Great Ritual at the "Embassy" a bit too on-the-nose? Probably.
Speaking of gaslighting, more of the same from Sin City. Whatever.
I am pretty sure that's a Hellmouth and not a sinkhole though. Don't these media people watch Supernatural for Pete's sake? Get with the program.
Be a shame if it swallowed the entire city, don't you think?
A real crying shame, all right. I get downright misty just thinking about it.
Speaking of Hellmouths, you have a more literal variety opening up in Hawaii. It's kind of like watching Dante's Peak in slo-mo. Or more accurately, a frog being sautéed.
Speaking of which, it looks like the Keck telescope was damaged by the seismic shenanigans out there. This on top of the so-called "frog apocalypse."
Gaslighting the Chans? I wouldn't rule it out.
Note to self: research if "Donimo" is actually using Hawaiian terms. Speaking of Keck.
Back to the Royal Scam, the Pearly Dew-Duchess of Sussex is featured in this photo-op with Twins holding the train to her "Mermaid dress" underneath some Garlands-evergreen, Forget-Me-Not wreaths. Talk about gaslighting.
Secret Sun Scrabble gaslighting, in fact.
As fate would have it, the re-release of the Twins' material for Fontana (a subsidiary of Dutch transnational megacorp Phillips) was announced two days after the Chymical Nuptials.
Not sure of the prophetic import of all this yet but I'm perfectly confident it will reveal itself in due time. Patience.
Oh, shit! I forgot the Cocteau Twins were playing in the middle of Absolute-Nowhere, Queens last night! Damn. LOL jk. The band hasn't even spoken to each other in years.
This was just a cruel little prank our old pal Cosmo-Demonic AI was playing on us.
And wouldn't you know it? Cocteau's Les Parents Terribles is slated for a re-release, answering the prayers of dozens of film buffs around the world. LOL jk. Actually, this is cited by many critics as the legendary polymath's best film.
The better-known Les Enfants Terribles is of course ultimately responsible for the name of a certain band you may have heard me mention now and then. Timing is everything.
Finally, I notice Crypto-Fraserfarian Pink Opaque is out there knocking them dead with their Beautiful Trauma tour. Do note Pink Orange Red is still rocking the artfully-tousled bob commonly known as the "Frase."
Bonus factoid: Pink was born the very same year a certain beat combo you may have heard a thing or two about was formed.
PS: 17.
UPDATE: This is the Duchess's coat of arms. Um, what's up with that bird's neck?
PS: 17.
UPDATE: This is the Duchess's coat of arms. Um, what's up with that bird's neck?
