Theft of the American Crown Jewels…

These are America’s Crown Jewels.

1. Cambodian Crown Jewels, British Art Dealer 2. Koh-i-Noor Diamond, Imperial State Crown of UK 3. Benin Bronzes, British Museum 4. Elgin Marbles, British Museum

Like the Cambodian Crown Jewels, the Kohinoor, the Benin Bronzes and the Elgin Marbles, the rapacious barbarians of the island kingdom must have them. If it is of value then it is theirs for the taking as it has been for 1.5 millennia, most especially so for the last century with regards American awards and the last half millennium through enslavement of African peoples, the spoils of Apartheid at the dehumanising expense of South Africa’s millennia aged original inhabitants. Justifying that rape and pillage has occurred with a reanimation of Brahminism.

When Will Smith walked onstage at the 94th Academy Awards and slapped Chris Rock; he kicked opened the doors for a sea-change; however, at the time, no one could quite perceive the event for the golden opportunity it actually is. Within days of the shocking event, the violent Black man who to that point had the squeakiest image in Hollywood, at least for a Black man, was dealt with. The Academy board of governors decided to ban Will Smith from appearing at the Oscars for ten years.

Back in the autumn of 1983, Merlin and I were holding up in actor, Joe Morton’s Upper West Side one-bedroom apartment that looked south. It was there that we took vows and became committed to each other until one of us passed… we kept those vows. Joe was off in England filming a television series whilst I nursed an injury caused when in a nasty car crash. We looked at a lot of film from Joe’s library, one of which was Black Orpheus. One evening, Merlin cooked a chicken paprikash and had two other couples over, both Black. There was talk about the Oscars earlier that year and how exciting it was that Louis Gossett Jr. had won best-supporting actor Oscar for An Officer And A Gentleman, which was a landmark first. After dinner and more great sex, we returned to the discussion about the Oscars that year and Hollywood politics. I had failed to see anything exciting about winning a best-supporting actor rather than best actor Oscar. Merlin in his charming way made an analogy after he declared that not in our lifetimes would a Black woman ever win best actress Oscar; Merlin was also just brutality pragmatic and honest that way.

Hollywood, Merlin stating the obvious, was a business of make-believe where one staged the desired outcome. In that sense, Merlin shared it was the greatest propaganda tool. It is a world where reality is made in the image of what those in control, would want it to be; in such a reality, Blacks could never be seen to be triumphant. Merlin then touched on the 1936 Olympics in Berlin where Jesse Owens won four gold medals before the debased terror, Adolf Hitler, thereby shattering his belief and propaganda of a master race that’s superior and always the winner. That event, said Merlin, was a real time event which could not be manipulated to achieve the desired outcome as Hitler would have it. Then, said Merlin, Hollywood and its awards are the antithesis of real time events like the Olympics. In the world of Hollywood, even if nominated, Blacks simply were never going to be allowed to win Oscars, just being nominated was good enough and a show of Hollywood elitists’ largesse. Hollywood said Merlin is a Jewish town, after all, and thus Blacks could never be expected to win Oscars, unlike winning Grammys or even Tonys. Besides, said Merlin, Hollywood elites were obsessed with making it in London society and were in bed with royals and getting to play in the truly big leagues. At the time, that angle escaped me; however, he had made the reference to Ben Kinsley winning best actor Oscar that year for his phenomenal performance in Gandhi which Merlin and I had seen the autumn prior at the Ziegfeld Cinema on West 54th Street at midnight, which I then thought the height of sophistication.

The following afternoon, Shawn Kerwin dropped by whilst we listened to the marathon live matinée broadcast of the Metropolitan Opera Centennial Gala. Shawn had designed the golden rolodex which was on display at Lincoln Center and dropped by as she would soon be designing a play back in Toronto that Merlin would be directing. The concert was mind-blowing; we made more love, napped into evening, made more love and then had dinner in the neighbourhood, came home and talked long into the night after he finished devouring another book. As was customary in those nightly discussions, we revisited the talk of the Oscars. Merlin apologised if he sounded pessimistic but he assured me that not during our lifetimes would a Black woman win best actress Oscar. Alas, that proved true for him and just about true for me; truth be told, if 9/11 had not occurred, Halle Berry would not have won best actress Oscar at the 2002 Oscars.

Along with Will Smith slapping Chris Rock – as well he damn well ought to have, based on the latter’s hideous Netflix special of March 2023 – the unfolding drama of the Sussexes has made total sense of Merlin’s predictions of four decades earlier. I have come to see how Hollywood keeps Black actresses at bay by favouring Britons and other White non-Americans. This is not just a disservice to American cinema but it is also illegal activity. I came to see how in Meghan, Duchess of Sussex’s lynching at the hands of the Prince & Princess of Wales in concert with the Courtesan Queen cast greater insights to what causes the embargo on Black actresses winning a best actress Oscar. William is president of BAFTA which has its only foreign branch in Hollywood, which it dubiously called BAFTA North America – it has nothing to do with Canada and everything to exclusively do with Hollywood.

So why after their wedding and their first royal tour to Canada did William and Catherine, now Prince & Princess of Wales, travel to Los Angeles? As the newly minted president of BAFTA he had to be feted in Hollywood where he was expected to continue the tradition of British film artists, being disproportionately represented and winning at an American awards. They had to continue a relationship begun by Prince Philip in 1959 as first President of BAFTA. As a fledging awards, BAFTA desperately needed the cachet that the Oscars afford; old world Hollywood glamour, worldwide brand recognition and star power that remains unsurpassed.

From Prince Philip 1959 to 1965, the baton was passed on Prince Louis Battenberg (Earl Louis Mountbatten 1966 to 1972, Princess Anne, Princess Royal 1973 to 2001. Next up was Lord Richard Attenborough 2002 to 2010; the current BAFTA president, Prince William, Prince of Wales from 2010 to present.

So with the current BAFTA president, we get Tom Hanks sitting in the royal box at a Aston Villa game and we all know that this football team has been BAFTA president, William’s favourite team since childhood. The day after, Tom’s wife, Rita Wilson, attended the 2023 BAFTA Awards where its President, which is customary, rowed with his hawkish wife, Catherine, Princess of Wales. Another example of influence peddling, Mr. Hanks is a multiple Oscar winner, two-time Oscar winner Michael Douglas and his Welsh wife, Catherine Zeta-Jones live in an apartment at St. James’s Palace. Again, Oscar winners are favoured and you can bet that these American Oscar winners have been afforded honorary membership in members clubs like Annabel’s as part of the influence peddling as the BAFTA president hobnobs with Hollywood movers and shakers, in a bid to secure work and Oscar nominations for Britons working in Hollywood.

Well, if the angry Black male, Will Smith, is going to be censored for disrupting the Oscar telecast then Tom Hanks and the Douglas Zeta-Joneses should lose their Oscar vote for clearly engaging in influence peddling with the president of BAFTA. The Windsors are notorious for engaging in sketchy business deals, what with the now King Charles III, taking bags of cash from Saudi members of the Bin Laden family. There would also be nothing to stop William and his predecessors from engaging in accommodating Hollywood A listers for the sake of securing nominations for Britons at what is an American awards, the Oscars; of course, in keeping with all that elbow rubbing offered by royals, the Tonys, Grammys and Emmys will gladly favour British talent. It is not America’s responsibility to provide work for British actors and industry professionals. With a population five times as large as the UK’s, there is clearly a dearth of talent out there, such that America never needs to go courting or employing Britons over Americans. And that it is all about influence peddling and getting to hobnob with royals, where do you see Americans favouring Canadian talent, which relative to UK’s is considerable with a population twice as large as Canada’s should see more Canadian actors being nominated and winning Oscars all this time.

1. The Great Ziegfeld Luise Rainer, 1936 2. The Good Earth Luise Rainer, 1937 3. Gone With The Wind Vivien Leigh, 1939 4. Suspicion Joan Fontaine, 1941 5. Mrs. Miniver Greer Garson, 1942 6. To Each His Own Olivia de Havilland, 1946 7. The Heiress Olivia de Havilland, 1949 8. A Streetcar Named Desire Vivien Leigh, 1951 9. Butterfield 8 Elizabeth Taylor, 1960 10. Mary Poppins Julie Andrews, 1964

Just look at this, 20 best actress Oscars afforded British actresses for an American award.

11. Darling Julie Christie, 1965 12. Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf Elizabeth Taylor, 1966 13. The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie Maggie Smith, 1969 14. Women in Love Glenda Jackson, 1970 15. A Touch of Class Glenda Jackson, 1973 16. Driving Miss Daisy Jessica Tandy, 1989 17. Howards End Emma Thompson, 1992 18. The Queen Helen Mirren, 2006 19. The Reader Kate Winslet, 2008 20. The Favourite Olivia Colman, 2018

Naturally, with the House of Windsor involved, acquiring Oscars is infinitely easier accomplished than trying to spirit the great pyramids of Giza to London, which if it were possible, there’d likely be one at the expanded forecourt of the British Museum, one on The Regent’s Park and the other in Hyde Park. Obviously, Princess Anne’s tenure as BAFTA president likely saw her innate disdain for Yanks and general arrogance rule, which resulted in little return on investment. The same was true when Louis Mountbatten was BAFTA president. Of course, with Woody Allen, Steven Spielberg on Epstein’s flight manifests and Roman Polanski being too ‘special’ to prosecute, Old Dickie was in his element in Hollywood. Let’s face it, the IRA had nothing to do with Mountbatten’s explosive demise, born 25.6.1900 Year of the Rat, as ever numbers never lie. 7.4.5 = 7. Two 7s and a 5 alluding to sexual scandal; one or more 7s especially if one is placed in the fourth position, will indicate assassination of a public figure. In Mountbatten’s case, the poor villagers were sick of their sons being preyed on by a known paedophile and that was that.

1. Amorous Prince David, Prince of Wales & Earl Mountbatten in India. 2. David & Louis frolicking in Hawaii. 3. David & Louis playing. 4. Prince Charles, Prince of Wales & Earl Mountbatten. 5. Charles & Mountbatten. 6. Prince Charles, Prince of Wales & Jimmy Savile. 7. Gary Glitter. 8. Jimmy Savile & Gary Glitter. 9. Steven Spielberg & BAFTA President, Richard Attenborough. 10. Steven Spielberg & Harvey Weinstein. 11. Jeffrey Epstein, Prince Andrew, Duke of York, Woody Allen, Bill Clinton & Donald Trump. 12. Prince Andrew & Jeffrey Epstein. 13. Jeffrey Epstein & Donald Trump. 14. Prince Charles & Equerry Jonathan Thompson. 14 Prince Charles & Valet Michael Fawcett.

Prince Louis of Battenberg aka Earl Louis Mountbatten was human and it would certainly not have been the first time that persons associated with the House of Windsor, have had a preference for minor meat or favoured paedophiles. Sexual predators who are deemed untouchable for being of royal, Queer or Jewish persuasion rule a town called Hollywood and you can bet your bottom dollar that there is no room in their worldview for Black actresses being worthy enough for best actress Oscars. I’ll always remember going to an Upper West Side dinner party in winter 1983 whilst Merlin was in Toronto, working on Fraggle Rock with Jim Henson and talk of Hollywood came up. I was with a dancer who was transitioning to the world of fashion and design and successfully at that. Before then, he had lived for a couple of years with a famous actor in Hollywood; he hated having a sugar daddy so returned to New York. Aaron, who was great fun, died too young of AIDS but I’ll always remember his assessment of Hollywood: the world’s most exclusive escort service successfully masquerading as an entertainment business. “It is nothing more than Mecca if you are a sexual predator.” Two others at that dinner party wholeheartedly agreed with Aaron’s perception. Aaron had the thickest cock I have yet in all my years seen; thankfully, he happened to have been the most aggressive bottom yet encountered.

Indeed, what Merlin implied by not in our lifetimes, would there be a Black best actress Oscar winner, is that the Oscar is the penultimate icon of White female exclusivity and superiority. It is the most racist iconography in American culture. It is also tied to the UK Royal family in a display of American inferiority complex after having fought a war to be rid of Britons and their monarchy. Especially sobering is the fact that the very President of BAFTA, Prince William, Prince of Wales has been outed in his brother, Prince Harry’s phenomenal royal memoir, SPARE, as being the leader of the racially predatory campaign of harassment, mental, emotional and likely physical abuse, all of which was glaringly accomplished with the tacit collusion of the Fleet Street abattoirs and persons like Princess Michael of Kent who happens to be the mother of the Prince’s known closest royal friend, Lord Frederick Windsor.

Meghan, an American actress has been treated like absolute filth, yet no one in Hollywood has spoken up in her defence. Meghan’s articulateness and impeccable social skills are seen as reasons enough to resent the ‘Yank’. Moreover, Meghan is that most unacceptable of propositions not just to the British royal family but to the very core of its collective consciousness, Meghan is Black and descended of slaves of which no nation profited more mightily from the enslavement of displaced Black Africans than the British and its royal family. Of course, Hollywood does not care to get involved because the only sanctioned troubled history that is celebrated by the Academy, is the pain, struggle of Jews in Europe which resulted in the Holocaust. For that reason, it is almost an existential threat to the Academy and Hollywood’s sense of self and entitlement to ever have to acknowledge Black American history in America cinema. Indeed, Hollywood has never even done more than exploit the indigenous American population’s rape and pillage of culture and genocide of a people, because as with Black Americans, it would prove more worthy of American cinematic focus for obvious historic reasons than sectarian European history.

Anything and anyone who remotely threatens Hollywood’s sense of self and its agendum of focussing almost exclusively on the Holocaust with respect to what is deemed disturbing history and worthy of being focussed on and highlighted, is simply cancelled. Good god, look at Tom Cruise in what clearly is sectarian bias, no matter how much of a box office champ and how compelling his acting chops have been, an Oscar continues to elude him. Apart from his blockbuster actions films, all of them, what I love about Tom Cruise is how exquisitely he captures young soul angst with his acting. From Rain Man (1988), to Jerry Maguire (1996) or the exquisitely cinematic, Eyes Wide Shut (1999) the man’s a brilliant actor and no one but a young soul would so daringly do his own stunts in film after film after action film. All this deliberate denial because he is a Scientologist; just imagine if Jews were being so targeted and overlooked by the Academy but there it is in bold, unmistakable reality.

Similarly, James Cameron, a Canadian, is simply not great enough of be imbued with genius such that his towering greatness must be celebrated. In 2009, that society that serves as a paragon of racialised superior consciousness (Britain) and arrogantly so, did not award a single BAFTA to James Cameron’s 1997 film, Titanic though receiving 10 nominations. In America that year with 14 nominations, Titanic was awarded 11 Oscars. As far as Britons are concerned, it is not a British film, therefore they do not care and their grudge and disdain for ‘Yanks’ is all the more reason why Titanic was shut out of the BAFTAs. How is this even possible when there was a direct involvement with Britain with this very real and ground-breaking film? The Titanic did set sail from Britain for America; Britons were lost at sea when the Titanic sank.

Not wanting to seem like an afterthought and god forbid a third-tier awards, on taking over as BAFTA president, Richard Attenborough had the awards moved up to February, post Oscars April or May, thereby preceding the Oscars. This afforded the BAFTAs cachet as they were seen as a forerunner of how the Oscar winners would be determined. In a bid to maintain relevance and continue its role of influence peddling in an American industry, BAFTA has set up a wing in Beverly Hills and had the balls to call it the North American wing; leave Canada out of your influence peddling racket, the objective is to influence the Oscar nominations and winners. Of course, in turn Oscar winners find themselves being afforded the exclusivity of the royal treatment as with Tom Hanks at the Aston Villa game on the eve of the 2023 BAFTAs and Oscar winners Michael Douglas and Catherine Zeta-Jones being allowed to live in an apartment at St. James’s Palace. So that no one should go getting ideas, she is a Briton and he, of course, is Jewish Hollywood royalty and it certainly would not be extended beyond such persons. Certainly, not when the current BAFTA president and his wife and known anti-Black racists.

Thanks to Britons’ gross sense of entitlement and flagrant superiority complex, they do not care what the world thinks. Their awards criteria and their members decide who is deserving of winning a British award and you can bet it won’t be a damn Yank. From Beyoncé being snubbed at the Grammys in favour of Harry Styles then having the Brit Awards favour Harry Styles over anyone else. This fruity little drip regardless how flagrantly he swishes his AMS (arse-munching ‘stache) and cross-dresses, above all else, he is a White male and he will not be ridiculed by radio DJs the world over. I’ll always remember my proud First Nations brief lover whilst at a pow wow in Merritt, B.C. saying, “Gay people are first and always White people… people like you and me do not count at the end of the day.” Sage words indeed. Look at this silly photo of the flagrant little industry-used manwhore, I am reminded of the swell little, ridiculously hysterical French-Canadian actor friend of Merlin’s. From the moment we met, it was evident that it was merely a matter of time before we would be carrying on like gibbons en chaleur. A friend of his had approached Merlin and asked if I would step in for him whilst he covered elsewhere for someone whose lover was severely ill and dying of AIDS. It was supposed to have lasted all of two, at the most, six weeks.

Standing in for a friend of Merlin’s, dressing on Cats at the Elgin Theatre, was a memorable experience because Jean-François and I would be sharing the same floor backstage as the Andrew Lloyd Webber musical printed money like it was going out of style. Post intermission, JF and I would have the most fun. As all theatre folk are predominantly sage souls, which he was, he was entertainingly witty and given to reciting dialogue from a range of Bette Davis films. Mostly, Lauri whose wife also did wigs and makeup was fun to be around as JF and I carried on. One Wednesday, after matinée performance, JF and I returned to the theatre off the Victoria Street tech entrance. We had just rushed down from the top of the street where it dead ends into Ryerson Polytechnic Institute, which now goes by whatever name du jour – Toronto Metropolitan University. As we returned, we were laughing hysterically which Lauri with a sly wink declared, he could well imagine what trouble we’d been up to. Truth be told, we were detained by aggressive security as JF, Toronto Dance Theatre dancer René Highway who was a lover of Merlin’s who preceded me by at least two others, actor Denis Simpson of TV’s Polka Dot Door were caught in a stall together being riotously salacious. Little did I know that as I banged on the side of the stall, “Oh fuck yeah, put your fucking tongue right there!” there was a security guard in the stall next door spying on us. His radio went off, giving away the plot and to prevent my raucous laughter, Denis began aggressively kissing me. The damage was done though, because before we could scramble out of there, the security guard’s colleague had come to join him as he braced himself against the door in an attempt to have us detained. In no mood to be messed with, I grabbed JF’s half finished Styrofoam cup of coffee and tossed it over the stall door onto the killjoy guard. Though we tried to bolt, his backup had locked us inside. Denis copped hauteur and feigning outrage, demanded to be let out at once as he had nothing to do with any of this. The cheek! Tall, imposingly debonair, just like that Denis abandoned us with René, who never said more than two words at any given time, slithering out with Denis. Merlin said of René, you have a great fuck then afterwards, there’s nothing there; simply no signs of intellect. You can bet your bottom dollar, I howled at his assessment. After too much silly cop-playing nonsense, JF and I were released and told to never set foot on the campus again… as fucking if.

Stage left alcove with Lauri close by, JF fell to his knees, doing a deadpan Bette Davis impersonation from Jezebel, “Arvin. Arvin, I’m on my knees… I’m pleading to you…” All the while he kept looking from my crotch to my face his eyes large and yearning whilst suggestively licking his lips; Lauri’s laughter in the corner almost drowned out the caterwauling coming from onstage. Next, it was my turn to be witty, removing the band that gathered my recently permed hair, my Bette Davis rebuttal came from Cabin in the Cotton as I giggled and replied, “Well, of course, I’d love to hogtie and fuck you silly but I just permed my hair… bye now.” Turning, I made towards Lauri in the alcove whose laughter was continuous and just then, JF put his hand in my hair, making it an unruly mess. With that, he took off rushing to the back and through the door onto Victoria Street with me giving spirited chase. As it was the mid-1980s the street was a darkened affair with the foreboding sight of St. Michael’s Hospital across on the east side of the street. Facing north on the west side on the street, JF squatted on the kerb and began offering his arse whilst I grabbed his hips and soon we both dissolved in laughter, working off the stress from being earlier held hostage by aggressive security up the street.

Of course, today Victoria Street is no longer a deserted affair after dark. Last year, Massey Hall at the southwest corner of Shuter and Victoria streets reopened after 190$m renovations. Of course, it is just in time for the 70th anniversary of the most phenomenal live Jazz concert recording with the famous ‘Salt Peanuts’ performance. To Massey Hall’s rear and half a block down Victoria Street is the back of the Elgin Theatre. The 60-storey Massy Tower condominiums sit on the east side of Yonge Street and two doors north of the Elgin Theatre’s marquee between Queen Street East to the south and Shuter to the north. Jean-François was devastatingly funny and vulgarly laughed at everyone and everything; he was as intimidating as he was diminutive. He favoured me as ours was a physical relationship that was purely fraternal and nothing more than robust, healthy sexual play.

A couple of years after Merlin’s passing, I was then habituated in the Beaches, one of Toronto’s more glorious neighbourhoods which, like Moore Park, is lorded over by the tallest oaks, and bordered to the south by the boardwalk, beach and Lake Ontario beyond, which proves a putrid malodorous cocktail in springtime. The Beaches’ high street is Queen Street East with its noisy 501 streetcars; I then lived just beyond the end of the Queen streetcar loop at Neville Park on the south side of Queen. To the north the Upper Beaches was the tonier part of the neighbourhood with the most commanding views of the city and lake beyond or below. I really loved living there. About that time, in 1991, I received a call with news of Jean-François. I had last seen JF a couple of months earlier as he came by and visited but we didn’t have sex; Merlin was dead of AIDS, which meant that I had unredeemably become perished fruit. Years earlier when we had just moved to Cabbagetown’s 20 Amelia Street, JF dropped by unannounced whilst we visited with chef Gary Martin who was a source of playful raucous man-loving. Having heard about me JF came calling, whilst we visited in the back garden, Merlin cock-sucking a joint, Gary sharing on it, JF lit up a cigarette and offered it as he tried charming me; grabbing his hand at the wrist, I elegantly moved the cigarette away and coolly stated fact, “Sorry, I never suck on anything less than nine and a half inches… ever.” Jean-François tossed his head back and roared and declared that he was besotted. Gary cooked yet another sublime dinner and after, Merlin continued enjoying a joint whilst onlooking at me ploughing Gary who always had to have the large mirror in the hall on the floor to look at himself being ploughed right; Jean-François leapt in and kept his faced hungrily buried between my pumping buttocks.

Luckily, in a big city, you can nicely experience a new incarnation which has positively nothing to do with your previous existence. Soon enough, lovers aplenty were de rigueur and I began exploring my true metier, the world of S&M. For Jean-François, in a bid not to become HIV-infected, he began going after barely legal youth, freshly arrived in the big city and on the make, whom he enticed with his snazzy motorcycle. So it was as JF brought home a couple of straight boys to his lovely apartment above a drugstore along Eglinton Avenue West just west of Upper Forest Hill, his couple of tricks stole his sporty motorcycle after murdering him, cutting off his cock and sticking it into the gash of his slit throat. There unsurprisingly was blood everywhere and my response on hearing the news of JF’s demise, was to have done as he would have, “Well thank god those fucking forensic guys carry a tweezer in their toolbox…” a quip at JF’s tiny, boyish cock. The laughter the friend and I roared, was a fitting tribute to JF and also the only way to have responded to such shocking news of such a violent passing… Jean-François honestly would have appreciated the humour of the situation.

So there was the BAFTA President, Prince William, Prince of Wales with his combustible wife kitted out in her ‘fist-me-now’ black opera gloves, onlooking as Cate Blanchett won best actress BAFTA for TAR, a film which frankly is much ado about fuck-all. It is about her iconic whiteness – her blondness and blue-eyed superiority which is what the Oscars are about; however, when it comes to best actress the BAFTAs afforded the royal seal of approval. Thus Michelle Yeoh sat there at Royal Festival Hall and watched Cate win best actress BAFTA and that was that. Britons do not give a damn; besides, they are royals and all that, never mind that that blasted uncouth boor will break protocol more frequently than a duck shitting, lui même Madame Plotte-Visage, the Courtesan Queen – more of that later.

1. Kerry Condon 2. Dolly De Leon 3. Carey Mulligan 4. Angela Bassett 5. Hong Chau 6. Jamie Lee Curtis

So the BAFTAs decide that this is a good enough field for best supporting actress BAFTAs 2023. Of course, Kerry Condon is not a Yank and is close to being British for being Irish and that’s that. In this pre-Oscars awards, both Angela Bassett and Jamie Lee Curtis were passed over.

1. Cate Blanchett. 2. Viola Davis 3. Michelle Yeoh 4. Danielle Deadwyler 5. Emma Thompson 6. Ana de Armas

With the Oscars, Cate Blanchett who had been favoured was defeated by Michelle Yeoh. Of course, though much was made of Angela Bassett being a sore loser to Jamie Lee Curtis for the best supporting actress Oscar, Jamie Lee won it for two reasons, she is second generation member of a Hollywood acting dynasty; more importantly, she is Jewish and in Hollywood that trumps everything else. With Michelle Yeoh’s historic win, no one dare levelled accusations that it was mere tokenism or some woke agendum.

1. Ana de Armas 2. Andrea Riseborough 3. Cate Blanchett 4. Michelle Williams 5. Michelle Yeoh

For that matter, there was no talk anywhere of Cate Blanchett having been cheated out of her rightful best actress Oscar award. Naturally, the argument is that Black actresses are just not good enough or worthy enough to be cinematically lauded. Of course, Angela Bassett, Viola Davis and Danielle Deadwyler, in the case of the latter two, they portrayed not just strong Black women but they were also historical figures. This for Hollywood is wholly unacceptable; American history simply cannot expand to cinematically include African Americans. What’s more, avoiding American history at all costs is preferable, this explains why a film like Everything, Everywhere All At Once fared so well at the Oscars, it had positively nothing to do with American history and did not in any way threaten what Hollywood deems the only history worthy of being cinematically celebrated by the Oscars. As the saying goes, in Hollywood – the land of make believe, Shoah business is the only American history worth celebrating… cartographers be damned. And unlike the unpredictability of Jesse Owens’ performance before Hitler in 1936, Hollywood does not do real-time events. Hollywood as 1968’s best actress Oscar tie validated, is about manipulating reality to serve its need and one’s heroic place within the culture: better than, special, innately entitled.

Broadway Actor, Audra McDonald

Though Hollywood would like to keep Black actresses oppressed and give the impression that they are not capable of commanding the screen and thus not deserving of Oscars for best actress, that is all challenged by the fact that Audra McDonald, is the most decorated leading actress on Broadway in its history with 6 Tony awards. Naturally, if Audra were an actress in Hollywood, she would never have been considered for any Oscar nomination above supporting actress. Hell, even Viola Davis won best supporting actress Oscar for a role which was always a lead on Broadway and won a Tony award in that category for the play adapted to film, Fences.

Halle Berry Best Actress Oscar Acceptance Speech 74th Academy Awards, 2002

Just look at how Briton, Helen Mirren looks on at Halle Berry during her best actress Oscar acceptance speech in 2002. She was clearly displeased and thought that the award ought not to have gone to some Black upstart, who was making some ridiculous ‘race’ speech or other. There, too, was that blasted little garden gnome whom we know is a favoured inner circle member at the court of the ugly-no-blasted-motherfuck Courtesan Queen, who has time and again made no effort to hide her disinterest in the otiose Persons of Colour the world over.

Maori Dancers Performing Haka at Commonwealth Service, Westminster Abbey, 2023

Just look at the way she walked past the barefooted Maori celebrants outside Westminster Abbey at the Commonwealth Day Service, 2023. It was heart-warming to see the Duchess of Edinburgh bump her left shoulder into HM King Charles III’s right shoulder and humour him as he clearly needed to be pulled away from the displeasure, he no doubt would have been experiencing for being born in the Year of the Rat and disrespected by that blasted Couchon, who has been unrelentingly wrecking the House of Windsor for near half a century. The damage ‘Ugly Duchess’ continues doing to HLM Queen Elizabeth II’s 70-year legacy, is incalculable.

Perception Is All.

The video above is of French colonials in the then French colony of Vietnam. That was in 1900, not 1900 years ago or 19,000 years ago. In less than 6 generations tribal perceptions change little. This is how the White tribe perceives non-Whites with varying degrees of scorn and animus. What most Whites have had to do, is aggressively adapt such that this primal perception of their place in the scheme of things, is deeply guarded, camouflaged and made to seem irrelevant. Of course, the power of the gun assures them that this sense of self and place in the scheme of things are little challenged.

Indeed, the House of Windsor has been possessed of this entrenched sense of self and place, in its most recent incarnation, since the reign of Queen Victoria. The two White females tossing grain and coins at the ‘natives’ in Vietnam, were contemporaries of Queen Victoria’s, whose misogynoir was emulated and upheld by Queen Mary who groomed both Queen Elizabeth, Queen Mother and HLM Queen Elizabeth II.

Queen Elizabeth II Sharing Racist Anecdote

One should not be surprised at the Queen’s 1969 documentary in which she tells a racist joke, to which Charles heartily laughed. Charles’s heir, rather than son, Peggalicious & Fisted is an avowed anti-Black racist; of course, so too is the Courtesan Queen, who has made no bones about giving no fucks about the otiose little non-White peoples.

Royal Tour 2019: St. Kitts & Nevis, St. Vincent, Grenada, St. Lucia & Barbados

The four minute mark of the above video and on their arrival in St. Vincent, Camilla carries her trusty parapluie and to make sure that she doesn’t have to shake any of the ‘natives’ hands, she carries a handbag in the free hand. This woman is a right piece of work and a true heir of the French colonials tossing grain and coins at the Vietnamese.

Just look at her! Couchon…

The infamous open ridicule of Inuit throat singers, causing Governor-General Johnston to look at her as though she were a lunatic from Mars will not soon be forgotten.

Just Look at the Old Kook; Always Looking As Though She Just Fell Off Her Broom

Her most recent I’ve-no-fucks-left-to-give moment: 2023 Commonwealth Service at Westminster Abbey. She just walked past the irrelevant persons of colour and of course compensatorilly clutched her hat as though it were Dorothy’s cabin about to take off; as if she’s not always got a broom to hand.

1. Norma Shearer 1930 2. Luise Rainer 1936 & 1937 3. Judy Holliday 1950 4. Simone Signoret 1959 5. Elizabeth Taylor 1960 & 1966 6. Barbra Streisand 1968 7. Marlee Matlin 1986 8. Helen Hunt 1997 9. Gwyneth Paltrow 10. Natalie Portman

There is much that you can glean from the line up of the best actress Oscar winners above. They are an insight into where power lies in Hollywood and one should never be mistaken about that. This power block is whom, much like the two French colonials in 1900 decide what pittance Blacks in American cinema receive. Of course, had 9/11 never occurred, there would have been no need for Halle Berry to have won best actress Oscar in 2002. This was hastily done as there was great fear that if terrorism were to become de rigueur, a guaranteed weekly affair across America, one would need to lay low and not provoke wrath from the American public at large. Of course, by the 76th Oscars two years later, there was no such threat and it has been back to the norm of Black actresses chances of winning best actress Oscar decidedly negligible.

How Like French Colonials in Vietnam, One Tosses A Best Supporting Actress to A Black Actress Now and Again

That Hollywood does not have two fucks to give what it looks like, was validated when in 1968, it was speciously alleged that there was a tie and just as with Gwyneth’s Cinderella Oscar, so too was Barbra Streisand awarded an Oscar because one can and did. Obviously, it is not a question of Black actresses not having acting chops, deserving of best actress Oscar, just as with the French colonials of 1900 Vietnam, Hollywood’s elite have long decided that Black actresses are not deserving of any such accolade; goddamn it, they are just not people enough. Goodness, that would make them more than maids, whores, junkies and dumbasses.

Hollywood as throughout human history, is just another society with its various strata and the one stratum that gets you lifetime membership at LouLou’s, Annabel’s and Maison Estelle is the one that sees you awarded best actress. In the case of best actor Oscar that’ll get you membership at Mark’s, Harry’s and Oswald’s. Alas, Black women need not dream; as Meghan has validated, Black actresses are the one group of actresses who are most undesirable whether for senior royal status or Hollywood’s ruling elite. Don’t ever fool yourself into thinking that Hollywood’s elite are a liberal bunch; they are the most vile, racist, royal sycophants on the planet – this is why Oscar winners Catherine Zeta-Jones and Michael Douglas live in an apartment at St. James’s Palace. They have wanted in, have gotten in and it’ll all culminate with Prince George marrying a nice Jewish girl – actress or otherwise. It will happen; in the meantime, they – royals and Hollywood elites – have seen to it that Meghan’s Cinderella moment could be undone and how handsomely they toiled and won. It’s a perfect business arrangement, Hollywood wants the exclusivity of royal sanction and access and for the royals and their shitty, third tier BAFTA awards, Brits get Oscars in return for preferred Hollywood elites sitting in the royal box at an Aston Villa game, living at St. James’s Palace and everything else in between, including all the minor meat they favour.

Hell, what’s all that to Harry and Meghan; they’ve got each other and are growing richer in spades with every venture they explore. Meanwhile, when the Pegged & Fisted Bourbon bastard finally gets a divorce, the inarticulate Edward Gorey silent era ingenue will draw on her coalminer pedigree and go full Jerry Springer on the House of Windsor. No Sir, Catherine will not go quietly and doe-eyed like her mother-in-law, Diana, Princess of Wales did. She will fight dirty and shake up the pantomime in ways that not even Hollywood could fathom.

Whether Emmy Awards, Grammy Awards, Oscar Awards or Tony Awards (EGOTs), American awards are about celebrating American culture with the able contribution of American actors and artisans being cited. Clearly, as demonstrated by repeated instances mentioned herein this blog, there is a clear-cut case of influence peddling on the part of the Presidents of BAFTA past and present, resulting in examples cited, be it Michael Douglas & Catherine Zeta-Jones Oscar winners living in an apartment at St. James’s Palace to fellow Oscar winner Tom Hanks, being afforded VIP access to Aston Villa matches. If indeed Armenian-Americans were the most powerful group in Hollywood, American Cinema, then there would doubtless be greater inclusivity and all American actresses being celebrated for their work. Indeed, all aspects of American culture would be celebrated in such a paradigm. As is obvious from Viola Davis winning a best supporting actress Oscar for a role which is a leading role, clearly there is a validated case of discrimination and double-standards at play.

Warriors of the High Country

Oil on Canvas

24 x 20

©2008 James Ayers

American cinema has to reflect American culture in all its pandimensionality and this is not the case. From the number of British and Jewish actresses who have won best actress Oscars relative to Black and Hispanic/Latina American, there is a definite case for legally challenging the discriminatory practices of the status quo. When is there going to be a film about the human drama that unfolded as a result of the terror attacks on 9/11? When are there going to be historically accurate films, telling the story of Indigenous Americans sacrifices and genocide. Heroic films from varying perspectives have yet to be made that dealt with the human costs of the American civil war. It is incumbent on the actors unions and others in the industry to challenge this discriminatory practice by way of legal action, ACLU, class action lawsuits, hearings in congress and legal action going all the way to the United States Supreme Court. The exclusion of Viola Davis or Danielle Deadwyler at the 95th Oscars is a clear example when they were passed over in favour of a British actress, Andrea Riseborough who appeared in a utterly dismissible film and performance about which no one knew a damn thing. Two Black actresses were passed over at the Oscar nominations for very strong roles where at the BAFTAs they were celebrated by being nominated.

If any practice is an insult to intellect, demonstrates influence peddling and proves a clear-cut case of discrimination based on race and or gender then there is no dearth of lawyers in America, who cannot take on an American actors union class action suit to address and correct so glaring an ugly case of racism in America, to say nothing of that decades long practice being an injustice. Hollywood elites do not fill movie theatres, nor for that matter do Britons seeing American films lead to blockbuster box office results… Americans do! Unlike the Festival International du Film Cannes and Toronto International Film Festival, the Academy Awards, despite tacking on international to the name, is not an international film festival. Furthermore, the Academy Awards are an American film awards and not obliged to be featuring and awarding prizes to Britons as the awards have become. If you want an Oscar then damn well choose to reincarnate an American. Period. Just as if you want to be elected American President, the onus is on you to choose to reincarnate an American born citizen. The House of Windsor has no right to be wielding influence on the Oscars or any other aspect of American society; a damn war was fought and won about being bullied and over-lorded by Britons and their royals. If this is not challenged in due course, the problem of Black actresses being passed over in favour will endure for the foreseeable decades of this century and well into the next. Of course, if Blacks protest this, Hollywood’s elites in collusion with the British royals will simply see to it that all many of non-Black non-Whites will suddenly be favoured and awarded Oscars.

Brits Are Not Played Off At An American Awards, Or Are the Academy Awards Exclusively An American Awards?

Darling, the rules are very clear; if you don’t like Black people, fuck you!

Samara Joy live in NYC [full concert] | Trinity Church Wall Street | Nov 8, 2022

Samara Joy – Vocals

Ben Paterson – Piano

Felix Moseholm – Bass

Evan Sherman – Drums

At long last, a griot of the highest order has incarnated among us; long live Black high art, Jazz!

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As ever, life is like a flying dream; if you look down, you’re fucked. Enjoy the ride and fear no one!

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©2013-2026 Arvin da Brgha. All Rights Reserved.

To Hell With You!

Thomas Markle Sr. 18.7.1944 –

On Sunday, May 22, 2022, the Sussexes were featured all over Daily Mail because the Duke had played polo at the Santa Barbara Polo Club. Whipped into the usual hateful frenzy, there were more than eleven thousand comments filled with hatefulness, lies and ridicule.

Meghan, Duchess of Sussex interview with Oprah Winfrey

Two days later, it has emerged that Thomas Markle Sr. has suffered a massive stroke and these same hateful people are insisting that Meghan, Duchess of Sussex should go visit her father. Are you frigging kidding me? The articulate Duchess of Sussex made it eloquently clear to Oprah Winfrey, during their March 2021 interview, that she has lost her father. I cannot state enough that anyone possessed of master numbers of 11 (yours truly included) do not waver when they take a stand. Just think of Kim Kardashian, going after her sister and violently slapping her. Kim has master numbers of 11; she is the star of that show. One does not eff with master-numbered persons. Period.

Duke & Duchess of Sussex May 22, 2022

Somehow, Meghan was supposed to be emulating actor, Julia Roberts in the film, Pretty Woman simply for wearing an outfit that was similar to one worn by the character during the film. Has it occurred to these jackasses that there is no outfit that any woman could ever wear that would not be comparable to one previously worn by any other woman? There is no reason why the Duchess of Sussex should visit her father, who has suffered a life-altering stroke. If she were to, her vile detractors would say that it was all a PR stunt to try and look sympathy. If she does not, she would be said to be vile and heartless. To hell with Thomas and to hell with the 11k, who were ready to stone the duchess days earlier for attending the polo. Meghan owes neither Thomas nor them sweet bugger all.

Daddy my ass!

Time to take care of Daddy!” No dumbass, the time is long past for you to have taken care of your damn self. Stop being pissed on by that fetish-prone, perished kiwi fruit, Lady Rotherqueer herself, whose racial animus for the Black duchess will have him stop at nothing. Let him and his racist ilk fund Thomas Sr.’s recovery; god only knows, Thomas is better off to them alive than dead as they stop at nothing to racially prey on the most hunted fugitive from White racial justice in history, Meghan, Duchess of Sussex. Doria Ragland has her health because she has been a dignified and loyal parent to her daughter, Meghan, Duchess of Sussex. Thomas Markle Sr. will never meet his grandkids, Archie & Lilibet; he forfeited that privilege for betraying his own daughter. I might also add that he would never have behaved towards Meghan as he has, if her mother was also White. To hell with him.

Harry Archie Meghan & Lilibet

Go on, scoot. You’ve betrayed your own child. Your soul’s had enough of your embarrassing grandstanding… time’s up. Crawl the frig in your casket, there is no love for you!

Kiss and Say Goodbye!
Thomas Markle Sr. 1944 –

Then, again, just as at the time of the royal wedding in May 2018, this could be another staged health emergency by the clearly disturbed blackmailer and biggest petty conman ever. If the Duke & Duchess of Sussex were to meet with Thomas Markle Sr. whilst he is incapacitated, he would immediately turn around and run to the media, further vilifying them and making demands. Since he has dismissed a blood prince as an idiot, I don’t see how he can expect anyone from HM The Queen to Harry & Meghan to take him seriously or time-waste with his totally untrustworthy hide. He is a bitter scumbag and serves no discernible purpose in the lives of any member of the royal family, especially so the Duke & Duchess of Sussex. Most of all, his current health emergency is an obvious ruse to entrap the Sussexes; however, Thomas Sr. is the one who is stupid enough to believe the likes of Lady Rotherqueer’s transparent schemes, not either Sussex.

I Don’t Love You Anymore!

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As ever, life is like a flying dream; if you look down, you’re fucked. Enjoy the ride and fear no one!

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©2013-2026 Arvin da Brgha. All Rights Reserved.

Go On, Put A Doily On It…

Must you prey on us? Good god someone put a damn doily on it, already!

This past weekend, I looked at the 2021 Oprah Winfrey interview with Duke & Duchess of Sussex; you are always bound to find some new kernel with each viewing. Et voilà, there it was; not once did either the Duke or Duchess mention, Camilla, Duchess of Cornwall. So, I fast began reviewing the evidence.

During their first royal engagement after their 2018 wedding, HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales says something to footman and soon enough the Sussexes are ushered from the Buckingham Palace garden party, where Camilla famously waves off Meghan, Duchess of Sussex by rudely waving her right hand in a slapping gesture. HRH Prince Harry, Duke of Sussex looking both surprised and upset, soon departs the event with wife and that’s that.

Camilla all along has been given a pass. What she has never been able to do, is sink her talons into Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge. For one, Catherine, bless her, is a warrior soul and with the toughest Michael overleaves imaginable. For another, her task companion, HRH Prince William, Duke of Cambridge is not only his mother’s son but he is deeply protective of his wife, who is the more dominant partner in their soul connection. I do believe as much as it was to shield the new-born HRH Prince George of Cambridge from HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales, it was also TRH Duke & Duchess of Cambridges’ desire to be nowhere near Camilla, HRH Duchess of Cornwall.

Windsor, Camilla HRH Duchess of Cornwall 17/7/1947 Pig 8.6.9 = 5

Michael: Yes, this scholar is at the mid-level of the mature soul cycle — third life thereat.  Camilla is in caution mode with a goal of growth.  A pragmatist, Camilla is in the moving part of intellectual centre. 

Body type is Lunar/Venus. 

Camilla‘s primary chief feature is impatience and the secondary arrogance. 

The fragment Camilla is third-cast in sixth cadence; Camilla is a fragment of greater cadence seven.  Camilla‘s entity is five, cadre six, greater cadre 7, pod 129. 

Camilla’s essence twin is a scholar and the task companion is a warrior. 

Camilla’s primary needs are: exchange, freedom and power. 

There are 10 past-life associations with Arvin and 6 with Merlin.  (July, 2017) ­­­­­­­­­­­­­­

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Like HRH Prince William, Duke of Cambridge, Camilla, HRH Duchess of Cornwall is a scholar soul and like William is also a mature soul. Camilla is the same soul age, mid-cycle mature as Meghan, Duchess of Sussex. Camilla is on her third life at mid-cycle mature, though this soul age, which only ever occurs during the mature soul cycle usually takes one, two at the most incarnations to complete…. obviously, there are exceptions to everything. Third-level or third life at any soul age is more likely where one creates karma. Like Catherine, one of Camilla’s primary needs is power. Unlike Catherine’s powerful overleaves, Camilla’s overleaves are pretty straight forward; slow and steady wins the race. As such, she has done every shady underhanded thing imaginable to be the one wearing the Kohinoor crown at Charles’ coronation.

One of the rare photographs of Diana, Princess of Wales and Camilla, HRH Duchess of Cornwall in 1980. Diana was the threat, the enemy; a mere lamb to a famished eagle was Diana to Camilla. Camilla’s numerology is remarkable and apart from 8 in the first position – greedy persons who expect their partner to serve them the world on a platter, she has 5 in the fourth position. Indeed, she would eventually emerge a full-blown blemished flower, tarnished by sexual scandal. Hundreds of years into the future, Camilla will be known as the most powerful royal woman of the 20th century. Without doubt, it will have been because of Camilla why Charles will be dismissed by historians as the Tampon King. Both Camilla and Charles have 5 in the fourth position, which always introduces scandal of a sexual nature into the picture. That 9 of Camilla’s speaks to her unmatched ambition to bulldoze anything in her journey to end up Charles’ Queen Consort.

Windsor, Charles Prince of Wales 14/11/48 Rat 5.7.2 = 5 London

Charles Windsor is a seventh-level mature second-cast warrior.  Charles Windsor is in observation mode, with a goal of acceptance, and attitude of pragmatist, moving part of intellectual centre.  

Charles’s body type is Mercury-Saturn. 

Charles’ primary chief feature is stubbornness, secondary is self-deprecation. 

His casting is virtually the same as Robert Bateman’s: entity two, cadre four, greater cadre 16, pod/node 404 but he is a second-cast in a fourth cadence, entity four, cadre four, greater cadre 16, pod/node 404. 

He has an incarnate warrior essence twin with no plans to meet and a discarnate priest task companion, who exerts considerable influence on him. 

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Charles is rather interesting; he is an older soul than his late father, his mother, HM The Queen, both his wives as well as both his sons and their respective wives. Thus far, of the overleaves of royals channelled by yours truly, the only immediate relative of his who is close to him in soul age is Archie, who is also a seventh-level mature soul; however, Archie is a priest soul, which is an exalted role. Charles has been seen as ahead of his time on environmental issues because he happens to be an older soul. As I am also seventh-level matures-souled, artisan and on third life thereat, it is always deeply satisfying to dream of HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales. He is always very gentle, hobo-like and utterly without airs, which are indicative of his being an older soul. He is almost always in nature and shamanic to the core. Incidentally, Charles paints as it is a function of his casting position in cadence – second/artisan/creative – this is Michael overleaves rather than numerology. As is obvious from his numerology, Prince Charles would be affected by sexual scandal during the course of his life.

Incidentally, Camilla & HM Queen Elizabeth, The Queen Mother, a mature slave, are both souls from pod 129. Charles is in pod 404. William and Catherine are in pod 208. Diana, Princess of Wales in pod 380. Prince Philip a mature warrior soul in pod 408. Here is where it gets interesting, HM The Queen, Duke and Duchess of Sussex, both their children Archie & Lilibet along with Prince George of Cambridge are all in pod 418 and they are also all if not entity mates at least cadre mates. That is a pretty strong contingent with an immutable bond. Positively no one will ever come between HM The Queen and Prince Harry.

Simon Dorante-Day 5.4.1966 Horse 5.9.4 = 9

When there is a 5 involved, there is truth to the rumours. Both Camilla and Charles have 5 in the fourth position. There is no way that HM The Queen could have sanctioned a marriage of a seventeen-year-old HRH Prince Charles to Camilla Shand. She was a commoner. Charles is the heir to the throne and could not be having a shotgun wedding to an obviously pregnant commoner before he is even twenty years old. Coming so soon after the scandal with her sister, HRH Princess Margaret and in the 1960s, there is no way that a marriage was possible between Charles and Camilla. There had been no long courtship and all of a sudden within 9 months of their marriage Camilla gives birth; the amount of planning for a state wedding of the future Sovereign, ruled out the wedding. Goodness, Camilla would have been in her third trimester by the time of a wedding. Canada was too close to America with a tabloid leak possible. New Zealand too small and South Africa too controversial. Australia large enough and remote enough. The obvious resemblance to both HRH Prince Charles and Mark Shand, Camilla’s brother are not coincidental. Do you think that after having to give up her son with the future Sovereign, her maternal instinct would not have had a vested interest in Diana, Princess of wales, who was 14 years her junior and utterly clueless? Diana was prey and no predator can ever resist prey whose offspring would prevent her from her rightful title of future Queen Mother.

Throat singers are openly ridiculed by Camilla, HRH Duchess of Cornwall whilst on tour with HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales in Iqaluit, Canada in June, 2017. To their right in the video is Governor-General David Johnston, who looked understandably embarrassed. It is simply astounding to me how this woman could have been afforded so many passes time and again for being so damn despicable. Sweet baby Black Jesus, can you just imagine how Meghan, Duchess of Sussex would be mercilessly lynched in the British tabloids if she were to have behaved so disrespectfully to the Inuit, Canadians, the Commonwealth, the Governor-General of Canada, to say nothing of HM The Queen. But there she is, the Rottweiler to have ensnared the future Sovereign and leaving him for all history to be dismissed as the Tampon King.

True to her innate scholar soul inclination towards prejudice, Camilla, HRH Duchess of Cornwall has given the plot away over the years. She has taken to using her handy little prop – the small white parasol if only so that her hands are always occupied such that she doesn’t have to lean in and god forbid kiss or shake hands with anyone who is an otiose, undesirable… an untouchable – you know the usual sort that one can expect an aversion from bigots: darkies, brown people, golliwogs, the whole lot. Trust you me, I have been in London for Trooping the Colour and it is way too damn hot with all that exposed crushed red clay or limestone, especially so when air conditioning is almost unheard of in England. Alas, there she is each year without her trusty little white parasol to ward off golliwogs et al. God only knows, the very admirable, superior statesperson of impeccable diplomacy, HM The Queen was never given to traipsing about the ‘colonies’ with parasol in hand to ward off the untouchable darkies, golliwogs et al. Truth be told, Camilla could not be attempting to preserve her dubious, renowned beauty parasol-armed as she prefers when amongst the colonies, teeming with darkies and golliwogs, whom she ever seems intent on being rid of ASAP.

Alice Keppel 29.4.1868 Dragon 2.6.2 = 1

Numbers like these present a woman of inordinate confidence, charm, style and when she entered a room, she owned it. It is the mark of a superior courtesan; she could seduce anyone. Hypnotic and bewitching, her effect would have been magical.

HM King Edward VII 9.11.1841 Ox 9.2.7 = 9

A snob to the core; this man appreciated nothing but the finest – double 9s. For him, there could have been no finer, ravishing, prized mistress than Alice Keppel. His mindset of 2 would have left him completely besotted by her magical aura; their passion would have been consuming and sizzling.

HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales arrives minus Camilla, Duchess of Cornwall to HRH Princess Eugenie of York’s October, 2018 wedding at St. George’s Chapel, Windsor Castle. Where Alice Keppel, Camilla’s great-grandmother, failed to have bagged her prince, once finally having gotten that ring, Camilla did not have to play nice… if ever she had. Prince Andrew disproved of her and as she is not an older soul, Camilla would have wasted no time in saying sod off to Andrew and his daughter’s trifling nuptials.

Camilla is a pragmatist and having survived the British tabloids and secured in the knowledge that she had given birth to Prince Charles’ firstborn, she could not have given a damn. There was an engagement at a school the day of Jack and Eugenie’s nuptials and she was not going to change her itinerary. Royals lined up at Galilee Porch for sending off of Jack and Eugenie, yet nowhere was Camilla, HRH Duchess of Cornwall to be seen. She is a future Queen Consort, Andrew is a damn Paedophile and currently, her predatory focus was dispensing with that damn Yank golliwog, who was too charismatically like Diana for her own good and Camilla’s liking. Scholar’s are very good at sabotaging others.

HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales presiding at the handover ceremony of Hong Kong to China in June, 1997. Naturally, Charles was then divorced from Diana, Princess of Wales, who a month later would attend the funeral of murdered fashion designer, Gianni Versace and herself violently killed a month later in Paris.

Charles, November 2021 in Barbados for the handover ceremony as the Bajan government removed the Crown as head of state and became a republic. Just as at HRH Princess Eugenie of York’s wedding, Camilla could not be bothered and chose to be a no-show. She who is future Queen Consort, could not have cared less as this was just some otiose castoff island full of golliwogs. Besides, the ceremony was at night and since she could not be shielded from bloody golliwogs with her ubiquitous parasol – honest to god what beauty pray tell could she be protecting – to hell with them, she will not be going. Contemporaneous with the blackamoor-wearing bigot HRH Princess Michael of Kent is Camilla; a fact which should not be overlooked in how the Sussexes were racially preyed on in the various royal households. Charles and his wife Camilla are the direct representatives of HM The Queen; it was an important event and it was not as though she, Camilla, was back in London on a ventilator for suffering severe Covid. Indeed, it is not as though the failed broodmare had to stay behind and nurse Charles’ latest issue.

Well, ain’t karma a bitch! So having murderously driven Diana, Princess of Wales to the astral plane, Meghan, Duchess of Susssex to California, Camilla’s hope of having her son with Charles sequestered in Australia all these years, recognised and made heir presumptive, the ungrateful bugger had to go and marry and breed with a damn mongrel golliwog! If you think that for one second Camilla has not been a vile witch towards Diana’s beloved sons, just look at her response to throat singers in Iqaluit and HRH Princess Eugenie of York’s wedding. She doesn’t look like Plotte Visage Queen Consort for nothing!

First the baby, then the ring 40 years later… hardly worth it, was it?

Grace Jones – Demolition Man

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As ever, life is like a flying dream; if you look down, you’re fucked. Enjoy the ride and fear no one!

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©2013-2026 Arvin da Brgha. All Rights Reserved.

The Only Way Out!

‘Keep My Wife’s Name Out Your Fucking Mouth!’ Will Smith at 94th Academy Awards, 27.3.2022 Year of the Tiger 9.3.9 = 3.

Will Smith 25/9/1968 Monkey 7.7.4 = 9

Will’s enjoyed the most fabulous worldwide popularity and transcended that all important barrier of RACE, which is no small feat in this world. Of course, his double 7s would be instrumental in that potent charismatic image. Double 7s like that of HM The Queen assures great favour with the public.

Will Smith and son, Jaden Smith on the Graham Norton Show in 2013; this was the height of his career and he is (was) a billion-dollar box office Hollywood megastar. Love Heather Graham’s dancing whilst sat on the sofa. What is really telling is that fellow Philly actor/star Bradley Cooper went onstage 9 years later, 2022’s Oscars, to reason with Will Smith as he committed what could very likely prove career suicide. Let’s be real, Alec Baldwin pulled a gun on a cinematographer who could not have been a fellow actor rehearsing a scene with him, he pulled the trigger and she lost her life, yet there has been no uproar as with what occurred at the Oscars on March 27, which was a 9 day to be sure.

Bradley Cooper 5.1.1975 Tiger 5.6.1 = 3

From an appearance on the Graham Norton Show to 9 years later, having witnessed what could prove the death of Will’s career. Though he is a box office champ, it may yet prove a case of art imitating life as per the 2006 film, The Pursuit of Happyness in which Will starred and for which he was Oscar-nominated in the best actor category. That 6 in Bradley’s numerology is why he immediately rushed to the senior star’s aid. Who knows what past-life connections they share.

Denzel Washington 28.12.1954 Horse 1. 4. 5 = 1

Two 1s, Denzel is solid and he is doing his best to save the optics of this disaster before the eyes of the Academy and the world. No matter how you cut it, Denzel is now the elder Black statesman in the Academy with Sidney Poitier’s recent passing. He had to intervene and it is obvious that Denzel is infinitely wiser and more shrewd than Will; he knows what’s going on.

Tyler Perry 13.9.1969 Rooster 4.4.2 = 1

Tyler Perry, like Denzel, has 1 in his numerology; he is a leader and stabilising. More than that, those two 4s validate his being self-made. At the end of the day, just like Denzel Washington, he knew the optics of Will going off before the world and blowing up, sabotaging his image… to say nothing of his career. At the end of the day, it was compassionate Black men, who know what he is going through and have likely been there and it was rather commendable of them to have intervene.

More than that, it was also truly noble of Bradley Cooper to stepped in. Of course, Tyler was there for Will because it was to reassure him that if the wheels were to fall off the cart of his crossover appeal, there would always be a place for him to explore his acting career with Tyler Perry at his studios and production company.

Whoopi Goldberg 13.11.1955 Sheep 4.6.8 = 9

Whoopi’s got clout in the Academy so it really doesn’t matter what those grasping fools who seem to think that the Academy Awards are an Anglo-American awards think; it is not. It is strictly an American award and not a film festival, which features international cinema. These same people were calling for her to lose her job on The View now wanting her and the Academy to strip Will Smith of his best actor Oscar.

Benedict Cumberbatch 19.7.1976 Dragon 1.8.4 = 4

Naturally, the greedy schmucks from the isle of rabid, racist boors were chomping at the bit, thinking that in the event that Will were stripped of his best actor Oscar then that odd-looking expressionless android, Benedict Cumberbactch, would be awarded for also having been nominated for best actor. What are these idiots on? They seem not to realise that there is no way that he would have garnered more votes than Denzel Washington, who was also nominated in the same category.

Ricky Gervais 25.6.1961 Ox 7.4.3 = 3

Naturally, desperate to takeover the Oscars hosting gig, along comes that greasy little leprechaun from the isle of racist swine, trying to sway opinion. As you can see, thanks to your ugly collective visage having been revealed, the Oprah Interview has served to put your kind on notice. Americans are second to none and you are not entitled to take work from Americans. Period.

Judd Apatow 6.12.1967 Sheep 3.9.5 = 2

This incident, what Chris Rock aptly declared, ‘That was the greatest night in television’ proved truth serum for American society and its obsession with race. Straight away within hours of the Oscars, which occurred on a 9 day (27th March), all the little bigots couldn’t wait to show their true colours. Apatow with a mindset of 9 had to mouth off. You have been too good and too loved the world over.

Rob Reiner 6.3.1947 PIg 6.9.3 = 9

Yet another mindset of 9, Rob just had to chime in, unsolicited, to all and sundry that Will Smith was a monster, who needed to be punished. Always, it will be those with a second number of 9, mindset, who will readily show whom they racially hate when something like this explodes in the culture.

Dasha Zhukova 8.6.1981 Rooster 8.5.6 = 1

Notice that 8 is first-placed in Dasha’s numerological makeup; it’s the ‘this is the finest comeback billionaire tail in all the land’ placement of 8, the money planet. Far be it from Rob or Judd to have expressed moral outrage when this racially charge bomb culturally exploded. Hell, Jackie Mason and Don Rickles spent their entire careers, going onstage being openly racists towards Blacks and I don’t recall either Judd or Rob ever once protesting. Not that we need reminding but always of paramount import it is, to never lose sight of who one’s friends are.

Jim Carey 17.1.1962 Ox 8.9.9 = 8

Not only has he got a mindset of 9 as do Rob & Judd, he also has a secondary 9. Naturally, for this enraged White male, he is running to every mountaintop, letting it be known that Will Smith needs to be arrested and thrown in jail. There were two breakout stars from hit 90s TV show In Living Color, Jennifer Lopez and Jim Carey. Far be it of him, in the ensuing years to have ever featured a Black male or female co-star in any of his box-office successes; god only knows, there was no guarantee that he would ever have risen to prominence, were it not for the exposure that the very Black Wayan siblings afforded him on their show, In Living Color. Far be it from Jim Carey to have ever taken to the media and express his moral outrage at the modern day lynching of George Floyd almost 3 years ago. Instead, in this reanimation of that age-old American pastime, there has he, and others of his special ilk, growing white-hot and tumescent chanting, ‘Yee haw light up them crosses, it’s nigger lynching time!’

Jim Carey Sexually Preys on Alicia Silverstone at 1997 MTV Movie Awards
Sexually Predatory Jim Carey After Will Smith
Jim Carey 1997 Oscars…. Nah This Jackass Could Not Have Been Lowering the Tone.

Stupid people do stupid shit and you can always count on second number of 9 persons to out themselves when all of a sudden, they selectively display indignation at that which offends their perception of what is acceptable and just. Not for one nanosecond do I condone what Will Smith did, when slapping Chris Rock at the 94th Academy Awards; however, why is no one perceiving the double standard at play here? Of course, with two 8s in his numerology, apart from wanting that monstrous Black male thrown in jail, he damn well would have sued him for 200$m – is that per chance a bid to recoup funds paid out to silence the discarded Irish lover who took her life? Glass house dwellers, honest to effing god.

Alec Baldwin 3.4.1958 Dog 3.7.3 = 4

Less than sixth months ago, not 6 or 60 years earlier, Alec Baldwin pulled the trigger and the cinematographer on his film shoot was killed. Where were all these suddenly indignant White males: Judd Apatow, Rob Reiner, Jim Carey et al? That’s what second number of 9, mindset, tells you about all three men and such persons. They are always prejudiced towards a particular group of persons. Here is this arrogant White male, who after having killed another human being acts as though it was a mere coyote; even if he had shot a dog, there would have been widespread condemnation to be sure. Nonetheless, Mr. Arrogant White male (Alec Baldwin) decides to turn mouthpiece of the NRA and lies himself delirious with this semantics two-step about who loaded the gun and he did not pull the trigger. Motherfucker, guns are not sentient; you were holding the goddamn frigging gun, it went off, a human being was killed!

Alas, a White male, less wealthy than Will Smith gets to arrogantly evade the law and during all this time, there has been no cross-burning mob partout, looking to lynch that goddamn so-and-so. Just imagine the effrontery of Alec Baldwin, refusing to turn over his phone to the police without repercussion after a human being lost her life as a direct result of his action. Just look at his demeanour on the day that the cinematograph lost her life; he was distraught, winded and horror-struct… but damn well not for long that’s for sure.

Hilaria Baldwin 6.1.1984 Pig 6.7.2 = 6

Naturally, before you can indignantly shout, ‘are you frigging kidding me?’ along comes his wife, Hilaria Baldwin, ready to hurl invectives at the media for bothering them. Then the week leading up to the Oscars, adding further insult to injury, the Baldwins smugly, gleefully announced that they are expecting baby number 7; get the hell out of here! How’s that for further tearing his arse in the collective face of the cinematographer’s family, friends and colleagues. Alec Baldwin ought to long ago been Bubba’s bitch, instead he is adding to the planet’s number one problem: overpopulation – that’s right, stupid people breeding to excess. Of course, with two 6s, Hilaria craves domesticity and the only way she has been able to keep that comfortably moneyed man, is to have become addicted to her water breaking.

Jada Pinkett Smith 18.9.1971 Pig 9.9.9 = 9

My impression of Jada until the Oscars 2022 was that she was likely a priest soul. Priest souls regardless of gender or ethnicity more often than not, will have striking eyes, more importantly, those eyes are very likely to be almond-shaped. In recent times with her alopecia, I have come to love the beautiful shape of her skull. I specifically chose to look at the Oscars this year because of the date’s numerology: 27.3.2022 which is 9.3.9 = 3. I knew that something impactful was going to go down, which would have something to do with things being said that likely ought not to have been. The moment that Will Smith slapped Chris Rock, I immediately began doing the numerology of Will, Chris and Jada… there had to be clues somewhere. I have never done the Michael Overleaves for any of the three persons nor their numerology. I was so stunned when finally doing Jada’s numbers that my hand began trembling, I dropped the pen and stood up, placed my cupped hands over my nose and mouth and felt the tears warmly snake through my fingers. Never in the 41 years of studying numerology had I encountered someone with four 9s.

9 is the most toxic number and as someone who sleeps and meditates daily in a pyramid with crystals, I simply cannot be in proximity to 9-numbered persons. They will always have a perfected look about them, especially when the first number is 9; they are immensely photogenic but god are such persons alarmingly negative. 9s are shit-disturbers and saboteurs/saboteuses. With four 9s Jada is simply Marquis de Sade with a strap-on. Born in 1971, Pigs are sexually consuming. With four 9s, Jada is quite simply a truly vampiric human; she manipulates, emasculates, gourmandises and sabotages others.

Jada is also going through her Chiron return, which means that from stratospheric heights, there is strong likelihood that one could as if unexpectedly experience sudden Icarian fall/ruin. There was one persona of Will’s that was exclusively controlled by Jada; rather than Will channelling her, she channelled that persona of Will’s, over which she has complete control, to do her bidding – this has likely been going on for years. As nothing is happenstance, Jada showed up to the Oscars where Will would be lionised with the best actor Oscar for King Richard, wearing a crushed, dark-green gown with mounds of fabric snaking after her. Sight being the most developed of human senses, we are most triggered by colours. Green in its negative expression represents greed, control, jealousy, sadism, even, domination, bile. Jada has a sadistic control/relationship with Will, who moments before she began channelling/possessing him and took to the stage of the Dolby Theater, was laughing where she sat steely and viciously cutting her eyes at Chris Rock In a heartbeat, Jada immediately animated that persona of hers which inhabits/possesses Will, up to the stage he went and slapped Chris Rock. All Jada had to do when Will stood up was grab his left arm and ask him to sit down. Period. Not happening, though, when she was on a possessed mission to put Chris Rock in his place.

Since when does a grown man take to a stage and slap another man? Men do not slap men; they punch to the face, gut or knee the groin but men do not slap men. Truly possessed, Jada’s animated persona which truly inhabits Will, took to the stage and gave the plot away and like a woman would a man, Will slapped Chris. Jada, as Will possessed, became the ultimate drag king dominatrix with a strap-on, took to the Dolby Theater stage and did Jada’s bidding through Will’s long-controlled body. Still Jada possessed, Will then returns to his seat and drunk with power as master manipulator/vampire Jada-possessed Will further gives the plot away.

Jada enraged booms through the possessed vessel – which Will during his acceptance speech actually said ‘vessel’ – “Keep my wife’s name out your fucking mouth!” not once but twice to stake her claim whilst possessing Will as she coolly sat next to him saying absolutely nothing, Jada through Will repeated, “Keep my wife’s name out your fucking mouth!” And just like that he was deflated as she returned to her body, her vampiric fix satisfied and Will and his career/life came crashing down to Earth before the whole world as the Oscars were being watched LIVE around the planet.

Like a 9 would, let alone four 9s, Jada saw no point in releasing a statement until four days later. 9s never apologise and when they rarely do, it is utterly disingenuous, so why bother. 9s are perfectionists, fault-finding, pains in the arse, shit-disturbing, conceited troublemakers, who bring ruin wherever they are focussed. So what the hell if she has alopecia? Tough. We are all diseased; life by its very nature is in a constant process of dying and rejuvenating, which in the final analysis ends with death triumphing. Alopecia is just another way for Jada with four 9s to be manipulator by playing victim when she is the most skilled rapacious vampire. In the Michael Teachings Jada would be a classic example of a wife with a chief feature of grandiose greed, driving her husband to ruin.

Lust may make you do crazy things but never once on this planet, has love made anyone do anything crazy. Just look at Will’s posture in that Red Table Talk session, which I have never once watched, he is slumped, winded and utterly under Jada’s control. Jada has emasculated a fine Black man because she is power mad. The time is now, Will. Get up, reach into her handbag, take back your balls, surround yourself with a good phalanx of lawyers and divorce yourself from the madness because love never does crazy. Will needs to find himself then find someone who makes love to his fourth sex. Most people don’t even know that there is a fourth sex or that they even have one, which apart from your mouth, arse or upfront sex is the major sex organ and it resides between your ears. What the world saw at the Oscars is that Jada does not empower Will and has neither love nor respect for Will. Love never ruins nor emasculates you. Will slapped Chris because as much as he was possessed by Jada’s vampiric persona within himself, Will was also crying out for help. That slap and his shouting are what Jada does to him night and day year in year out; he is so numbed with pain that his protest was a way of parroting her and his trapped and emasculated true self but outside their home’s privacy, which only ever empowers Jada. In that end, Will was fighting back and finding his power against Jada, whether he realised it in the moment or not.

Like a scorpion ready to poison and destroy, Jada wore a green gown that had the same posterior carriage/tail as a scorpion. Jada experiencing her Chiron return has proven the anti-feminist; she empowers no one. She has for long years slowly possessed and consumed Will. Hell, she so wanted to get this crazy mess over with, having dissected his life on her Red Table Talk sessions that she devoured him before the world; to hell with the slap occurring later at Governors Ball. Perhaps, Jada thought that in winning an Oscar, Will would threaten to or go ahead and divorce her; this way, she ruined him before he could strike first. How like a vampiric, venomous spider/scorpion/snake she proved. The anti-feminist fears her power, has not mastered her power so is left to consume others with their power and thereby rob them of their power. The anti-feminist does not empower neither self nor other women and she definitely does not empower men.

Kim Kardashian 21.10.1980 Monkey  3.4.4 = 11

Kim Kardashian the ultimate feminist worthy of every man and woman’s respect. Where a mere woman crying victim, would be ashamed and be destroyed by a sex tape, Kim knew that sex is the source of all human empowerment. With a performance on that tape that rivalled the most aggressive Gay power bottom, Kim like a true feminist found her power by not being victim and definitely not looking to victimise her sex tape partner in return. Kim empowered herself and has proven a true modern day feminist without shame of either sex or her sex and in the process has enabled both men and women to embrace sex and their sex and to healthily empower themselves emotionally, mentally and physically. There is power in feeling no shame. Look at those numbers; she is self-made. Most of all, the moment you displease her, she will dispense with you – master numbers 11.

Chris Rock 7.2.1965 Sheep 7.9.3 = 1

Chris has 7 as his energy body; as such, it anchors him and thank goodness for that! 7 persons are always reserved, do not do crazy and they can always be counted on to be socially gracious and never do they go off piste. As drag king Jada-possessed Will in a strap-on took to the stage, Chris, who like all 7s readily see and read energy, at heart centre knew that it was not Will – Will was not truly present. In keeping his cool and shakily coming back when declaring, “That was the greatest night in television,” he saved the Oscars and did not sabotage his career. Chris in doing nothing, did the most beautiful, empowering act as it was his way of seeing to it that a brother, another man, desperately needing to find his power and escape a crazy existence, masquerading as love, began finding his way.

Will Smith partying at Vanity Fair Oscars party, 2022

Will Smith has spent the last 30 plus years in a bubble wherein, he was perceived at large almost as though a castrato: entertaining, affable and devoid that most dreaded of qualities, black maleness. He has yet to wake up to his new reality. As of that slap at the Oscars, everything has radically changed. In that moment, the perception of him was radically altered and he became a violent enraged, angry Black male. He became the object of this world’s hatred, scorn and with it, will come a tsunami of ridicule as the world over 100s of millions will celebrate his fall from grace because there is no sweeter schadenfreude on this planet than that the fallen-from-grace Black male, Michael Jackson, Tiger Woods and Bill Cosby are prime examples of that. Alas, for the hyper-wealthy disillusioned many, they go through life singing, ‘I used to be Black but now I’m rich.’ Then for others like Tyler Perry and Denzel Washington, who are firmly grounded in reality, they know that being Black and rich are not mutually exclusive. Woe to Will Smith for going out and partying after his crocodile tears at the Dolby Theater hours earlier. The optics at the Vanity Fair Oscar party revealed that he has never once rapped, ‘I used to be Black now I’m Black and rich.’ For others like Denzel and Tyler it is an even sweeter rap, ‘I used to be Black and proud, now I’m Black proud and richer!’ Perception is everything and choices have consequences.

Marvin Gaye What’s Going On.

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As ever, life is like a flying dream; if you look down, you’re fucked. Enjoy the ride and fear no one!

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©2013-2026 Arvin da Brgha. All Rights Reserved.

The Bigot & the Gold-digger…

Thomas & Samantha Markle

Thomas Markle 18/7/1944 Monkey 9.7.7 = 5

Energy body 9. Self-toxic, combative, shit-disturbing and a bigot.

Mindset 7, reserved, inspirational, can see things – obviously, there are exceptions to everything.

Life path 7, he sees himself doing the honourable thing for the tribe at large and in this case, as his mind is compromised by bigotry; he is team white tribe all the way.

Soul/destiny 5, scandal is the hallmark of this placement of five, which is all about excess. He is the ham who will do and stoop to any level to stay onstage. 5 in the fourth position also always means sexual scandal of one kind or another. I suspect that his interracial marriage to Doria Ragland was seen by his family as a racial betrayal and his bringing shame to the family. Now in his waning years, he is agreeing with his family’s bigotry by attacking his daughter and all that she stands for. As a rule, it is inordinately rare that 7s of any kind, will ever speak ill of anyone or put a foot wrong with regards their public image. Case in point, HM The Queen – 21/4/1926 Tiger 3.7.7 = 8. Like The Queen, Thomas has two 7s and in the same position; however, all such persons are perceived as HM The Queen is. Thomas is the exception with such placement of 7s in his numerology.

Samantha Markle 24/11/1964 Dragon 6.8.1 = 6

Energy body 6, loyal, steadfast and puts family and health at the top of their priorities.

Mindset 8, the money number. All second number of 8 persons are motivated by money and making as much of it as possible. They will literally sell anyone, especially family, for monetary gain. During her second divorce, Samantha did do just that, she forfeited custody of her two biological children to their paternal grandparents for 10k$; Samantha sold each of her two children from that second marriage for five thousand dollars apiece.

Life path 1, Samantha is selfishly consumed with number 1 – self and her own selfish interest and that includes disposing of her two children for $10, 000.00 rather than being focussed on the most important task in life, being a mum – a loving nurturing parent to her two children that she carried and gave birth to.

Soul/destiny 6, not only is she a homewrecker, who abandoned her own kids and their older sibling from a previous relationship, Samantha will stop at nothing to interfere and wreck the lives of the Duke & Duchess of Sussex. I would not be surprised if during her lawsuit against Meghan her step-sister with whom she was never close, she does not seek to have custody of Archie & Lilibet. I wish she would be so blinded by her skewed numbers of 6, 8 and 1 because going after the children of a legitimate blood prince, whose father is the future Sovereign, would not turn out too well for her.

Nothing that Meghan, Duchess of Sussex said in her interview with Oprah Winfrey either mentioned Samantha Markle or misrepresented her upbringing as Samantha’s lawsuit alleges. Here you have two persons, Thomas and Samantha, who are blinded with jealousy and hatred of Meghan, for which they will stop at noting. So obsessed is Samantha with generating income for being orbitally connected to Meghan, she went all the way in her wheelchair to London, in hopes of preventing the royal wedding. The wonderful thing about her trip as she went to deliver papers to show just cause why Harry, Duke of Sussex, whom she has never met nor knows, should not marry Meghan, Samantha went to the entrance of Kensington Palace Gardens to deliver her documents. Of course, Kensington Palace Gardens is in no way connected to Kensington Palace.

Fame-hungry Thomas (5 & 9) and money-grubbing Samantha (8 & 1) have a symbiotic relationship; both know that for feeding on Meghan, they will readily garner support from the countless hundred millions of Whites and others who are violently opposed to Harry & Meghan having married. These same people will never, given the evidence of HRH Princess Michael of Kent’s blackamoor brooch, be convinced that Meghan and Harry were ever subjected to racism whilst senior royals living in London. For such persons, racism does not exist; Blacks are redundantly crying foul and playing victim and one is so done with that.

Of course, since 2017 when Thomas & Samantha have been keen on hijacking the limelight and thereby rendering the Sussexes as their opportune gravy train, not once has either gotten off their fat arse and gotten together. Samantha went all the way to England to intervene, in an attempt to stop the Sussexes’ marriage but cannot find the time or money to go see her fellow stalker and accomplice, Thomas Markle.

Just as it is obvious that Meghan’s parenting agreement is with Doria Ragland, so too is Samantha’s parenting agreement with Thomas Markle. They are both as despicable as the other and for positively no reason on Earth should be suffered in any litigation against Meghan, Duchess of Sussex. Harry certainly should turn around and sue both for stalking, harassment and defamation; he certainly could give ample testimony in a suit brought by Meghan against both Thomas and Samantha, the latter whom clearly she does not know and has no reason to know either person.

Samantha has all these rabid, bigoted Whites and others who so loathe Meghan, Duchess of Sussex that they support her in everything that she does and says; however, why pray tell did these same people not see to it that Samantha’s tell-all book, slandering Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, make it to the top of the New York Times bestseller list and stay there several weeks? Well, since that little venture failed, now Samantha has headed to the justice system with a frivolous litigation in hopes of making money off of Meghan, Duchess of Sussex whom she never hounded when she was an actress on Suits. The number of successful/famous actors, who have nothing to do with family when they make it, is more the norm than not.

Recently, that porcine fucker, Thomas, had the frig-all gall to refer to Prince Harry, Duke of Sussex as ‘her ginger husband.’ There is nothing remotely cool about that statement and it is just as racially charged as whichever senior royal wondered how Archie’s skin tone would turn out and being concerned how that would look within the royal family. Of course, along with that remark, there was HRH Princess Michael of Kent deliberately sporting the blackamoor brooch to HM The Queen’s Christmas lunch in 2017, at which Meghan, Duchess of Sussex was officially introduced to the wider circle of the royal family.

Thomas Markle’s ‘her ginger husband’ remark deftly illustrates how in synch with the Cambridges this man is. It is in the Cambridges’ best interest that this man denigrates his own daughter; it’s great entertainment for them and the isle of small-minded bigots. Thomas referring to Prince Harry as ‘her ginger husband’ is no different to royal householders and likely some senior royals referring to Meghan, Duchess of Sussex as ‘his nigger wife.’ It is the same reprehensible bigotry of which anyone possessed of 9 in their numerology is quite capable.

I have said it before and I will reiterate, the truest portrait of what the Cambridges are like, is to study the film, ‘Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?’ Like Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge, Elizabeth Taylor had an energy body of 9. Born February 27, 1932; Elizabeth was a Monkey. 27/2/1932. 9.2.8 = 1. That’s not acting; it is Elizabeth channelling 9 energy with exquisite élan. That mindset of 2 is all about channelling; it is about losing yourself in the creative process and embodying that on which one is focussed whether actor, writer, dancer, painter. It would have been electrifying for anyone on set during filming of the Mike Nichols masterpiece. The reason for the comparison to Elizabeth is that like Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor, Catherine and William and closely bonded souls. Whereas Richard and Elizabeth are essence twins -think Romeo and Juliet, William and Catherine are that other combustible pairing, task companions.

Essence twins are always the same soul type whereas task companions are never the same soul type. HRH Prince William, Duke of Cambridge is a scholar soul and Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge a warrior soul; he is an older soul than her – 6th mature scholar to her 5th mature warrior. One of Catherine’s primary needs is expression, which is in the tertiary position hence her creativity is not prominent; nonetheless, it is there and is explored in her photography. Task companions are always in the same entity and are like family members; however, essence twins are never in the same entity though in the same cadre. Task companions will encounter each other more than they will any other soul during the course of their soul’s reincarnational journey; as the nature of the essence twin bond is so all-consuming, they meet up more rarely than not.

As Catherine is a warrior soul, she is the more dominant partner in their bond; regardless their sex/gender when incarnate, Catherine will always be the more dominant of the two. Catherine is better equipped to be in the role that they have chosen than even William. Furthermore, the task companion bond is always push-pull. There will ever be lots of rowing, hissing but the sex is always next-level phenomenal. As William’s fourth number is 5, like his father, HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales and uncle, Prince Andrew, Duke of York and all persons with fourth number of 5, he not only has a roving eye but very conceitedly, thinks it is his damn right as future Sovereign to sex whomever he wants. This will understandably prove a great deal of stress for Catherine and it will most definitely cause her to resort to drink, not to excess but she could never be deemed a teetotaller.

Fresh Avocado Spread on Toasted Dark Rye.

More than that, numerology is the key to understand what makes incarnate souls mere mortals. Regardless, neither Samantha nor Thomas fool anyone; they are the most vulgar disfigurement of what their numerological portrait alludes to. Seriously, go ahead and sue Meghan, Duchess of Sussex whom litigant Samantha has referred to time and again as Duchass. Similarly, Samantha has been banned from Twitter for harassing Meghan, Duchess of Sussex. Go ahead, please think yourselves entitled to either know Meghan, Duchess of Sussex or meet her children. Hell, as you clearly know all about American chutzpah, go on and sue for custody of Arche and Lilibet, even though litigant Samantha gladly relinquished custody of your two biological children for 5$k apiece. To paraphrase, Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, that is a mighty loaded piece of toast to serve a judge.

All Blues Miles Davis Kind of Blue 1959.

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As ever, life is like a flying dream; if you look down, you’re fucked. Enjoy the ride and fear no one!

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©2013-2026 Arvin da Brgha. All Rights Reserved.

And Then You Have The Frig-All Temerity…

Berry, Halle 14/8/1966

Michael: No, this is not the fragment who was previously Dorothy Dandridge.  This fragment is a second-level mature artisan – second life thereat.  Halle is in the observation mode with a goal of growth.  An idealist, she is in the moving part of emotional centre. 

Body type is Solar/Venus. 

Halle’s primary chief feature is skewed impatience and the secondary is stubbornness. 

The fragment Halle is fifth-cast in second cadence; she is a member of greater cadence three.  Halle’s entity is six, cadre one, greater cadre 7, pod 414 – an entity mate of both Merlin’s and Arvin’s. 

Halle’s essence twin is an artisan and her task companion is a slave. 

Halle’s primary needs are: exchange, adventure and freedom. 

There are 16 past-life associations with Arvin and 12 with Merlin.  ________________________________________________

As I am a sceptic, I looked on at Halle’s historic best actress win speech and though I trembled and cried, I was also detached and shrewdly aware why she had won. Indeed, she was the vessel, at long last, because months earlier the twin towers were felled and who knew what strange new nightmare we had entered. Just to be safe, what do you know, none-too-liberal, the archly discriminating gatekeepers in Hollywood decided that it fiinally was time to “let’s make like nice, whatta say, let’s give her the award.” Oh Please!

In a truly great American cinema, Dorothy Dandridge was just as deserving to have won best actress Oscar for “Carmen Jones” as was Elizabeth Taylor damn well deserving to have won best actress Oscar for her riveting performance in “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” Naturally, to cancel the threat of the very brilliantly talented Diana Ross, singer/actor, winning the best actress Oscar in 1973 for “Lady Sings the Blues,” she was pitted against my father’s paternal first cousin, the actor Cicely Tyson in “Sounder.” A Briton, Maggie Smith was a spoiler vote, so that the sizeable British voting members of the Academy, could cast her a vote rather than vote for either Black nominee. Then there was another foreigner, Liv Ullmann, when the Academy awards are an American awards rather than film festival – the difference is plainly obvious. All this left one other candidate for best actress Oscar, Liza Minnelli, who was just as vapid and untalented as she has remained. And thus, neither Cicely Tyson nor Diana Ross won a best actress Oscar that night in 1973 and, of course, neither would go on to do so.

Just look at the 02:13 mark of the featured video of Halle Berry’s best actress Oscar acceptance speech for her turn in “Monster’s Ball” in 2002, there was sat Helen Mirren, onlooking as though she were looking at this imposter freak, someone being allowed to take a damn award that rightfully ought to have gone to, Judy Dench. There sat Helen Mirren who did not stand up as Halle, an American actor, winning an American award, said, “tonight this door has been opened.” Helen sat there livid at Halle high-jacking the awards with all this affirmative action claptrap. Never mind the Briton small-minded bigot, at least Sidney Poitier (old soul sage) was present to witness the historic moment. Well, you can bet Prada-heeled Britons in Hollywood, went all out to quickly slam shut that door because why should ‘they’ have received such a prestigious award? They are not even RADA graduates. Americans fought a war to rid themselves of the tyranny of these people and their colonising conceit and arrogance. Let’s face it, a BAFTA award hasn’t the cachet of an Oscar; it should be of negligible worth if an American actor is either nominated or wins a BAFTA award. It is not an Oscar.

Why in the hell is American cinema being steamrolled and bullied into submission by these holier-than-thou poseurs? No Briton with the exception of Elizabeth Taylor, who was riveting and compelling in every role she ever played, been deserving of being awarded an Oscar. What right have Kate Winslet, Olivia Colman, Helen Mirren, Emma Thompson, to name far to many, to be in the same league as Katherine Hepburn, Bette Davis, Barbara Stanwyck, Grace Kelly, Mia Farrow, Meryl Streep to mention a mere few?

Ever since the fairy dust of Chuck & Di’s 1981 pantomime, arriviste Hollywood have been bowing and scraping as though these were pre-1776 times. Since that best actress Oscar acceptance speech by Halle Berry in 2002, there has been a plethora of decidedly non-American actors, walking off with an Oscar in a parade of spiteful arrogance. Why Kate Winslet has won a best actress Oscar is beyond me, her every performance is just plain, insipid… uninspired. Winslet and her foreign colleagues are void magnetism and merely use the snobbish hauteur of their British accent as their cachet for being perfectly entitled to an Oscar. Who are these people to be in the same league as Faye Donaway, Jane Fonda and Meryl Streep.

Let me tell you something, that award right there is the most bold-face looting in recent memory. Just like Angela Bassett was robbed of the 1994 best actress Oscar for “What’s Love Got To Do With It” so, too, was Viola Davis robbed of the 2017 best actress Oscar. Viola won best supporting actress Oscar for a role in August Wilson’s “Fences,” which won best actress Tony on Broadway; it is not a supporting role. They even tried to see if they could snatch it from Viola’s rightful clutch, as they did with Cicely and Diana in 1973, in 2017, by also putting Naomie Harris and Octavia Spencer in the mix. Not only was it insult enough to have been misplaced in the nominations category but there was a strong likelihood that Viola could have lost out, just so that she could be put in her place for being so damn good. Bar none, she is the best actress under 60 in English-speaking cinema. Period.

Seriously, though, what can one expect of Hollywood when they had the temerity to tear their arses in the world’s face by having you and me believe that the statistically impossible truly had occurred, affording a tie in 1968 to Katherine Hepburn and Barbra Streisand for best actress Oscar. An Oscar has been of negligible worth since. And as such, it has become a members only club, to keep Black actors at bay; indeed, they go looking elsewhere for actors to whom they award Oscars, chiefly to Britons. To hell with Mr. Darcy. American cinema, to say nothing of actors, are being robbed. Where are the films, telling the story of Cuban-Americans in Miami, Lakota families and their rich history in the north. There are a thousand stories to be had in each of the 50 states of Black, Latino, Jewish, Irish, Mexican, Cuban… all Americans and it is not being told. Yet, you have these arrogant Britons, dragging on a fag and copping hauteur, though no doubt more jizzed than a Grand Central Station urinal during evening rush-hour, grabbing an Oscar time and again and toffing up their accent to bedazzle the none-the-wiser, silly little Yanks.

The one thing that the past five years has taught us, is that Britons are alarmingly racist and not only are they more racist than Americans but unlike Americans, they refuse to admit to being racists. Whether you are black or white, you are American and Americans are second to no one. Period. Why is the acting heritage of American greats like Hepburn, Davis, Stanwyck et al being eclipsed by non-Americans, chiefly Britons, marching in grabbing an Oscar; obviously if an Oscar had comparably less cachet than a BAFTA, no British actor would time-waste, courting an Oscar. Indeed, the age of neo-colonialism is upon us. Helen Mirren is leaden and starchy and does Helen Mirren, time and again. Same with Maggie Smith, Judy Dench (the dame means nothing to Americans) Emma Thompson, Kate Winslet, Olivia Colman the whole lot of them, it is all third-tier smoke and mirrors by way of copping Toff hauteur and using voice (à la Dune) by way of that accent on the oh-so-unsophisticated Yanks. Hell, in 2016 Helen Mirren even argued that there was nothing possibly wrong with only one Black American female having won a best actress Oscar to that point, in the 78-year history of the Oscars.

There are two types of looting with which we are all familiar. One, Black people looting at the drop of the hat; it is expected and an excuse to be reviled by the rest of society. Secondly, though not readily admitted, planetary looting of which we as a species are wholly guilty, which will cause our civilisation’s ruin in due course.

Ah yes, then here we have the most invidious looting. Britons looting an American award because clearly the BAFTA award hasn’t the same cachet. The Academy awards are an American award; they are not part of a film festival, which by its very nature is open to all nationalities, they are a uniquely American award. Then, there is the most egregiously invidious looting: Whites looting Black culture because… well, one can. To fuck with you, Jazz is too good for you; to hell with you, you could not possibly have invented this… This is American music; if indeed it were American music, god only knows you would never have deigned to have afforded us access – like your Oscars – to the art form, which boasts an unrivalled pantheon of musical geniuses. But hey, stay over there in your parallel universe, making your trifling music, as if anyone Black, on returning home after racism’s bile being spat their way 1 to 1000 times for heading out the door could care less. Please go ahead, piss yourselves silly, thinking that somehow any Black has time to waste when at home, to listen to music of the people who hate us, who murder us because… well, one can. Stay there in your parallel universe, lying to yourselves about how great you are – greater wealth and market share does not make for superior art; it is merely damn good business as much as so as are drugs. Don’t, however, for nanosecond get carried away with your deluded, revisionist sacrilege, talking knee-on-our-neck odious crap, “Jazz has its roots in klezmer!” “Jazz is American music! Nope, not having it!

Red Azaleas Singing and Dancing Rock and Roll Music

Acrylic on Canvas

73 34 × 158 12 × 2 12 in.

Alma Thomas

1976

Provenance: Smithsonian American Art Museum.

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How could you possibly expect us to suffer you anywhere near Jazz? Your perception of us; indeed, your notion of what we are and how we should be perceived and celebrated, are as dumb-no-fuck, bug-eyed blasted coons at whom you get to laugh. An Oscar is nothing more than these TV singing competitions where the winner is determined by the votes of well-groomed Joe & Karen Bigot where the outcome will almost always be predictably White. Imagine that, the year that Jennifer Hudson appeared on American Idol, she did not win the competition. The Academy has deemed that Black women are not deserving of a best actress Oscar, anymore than they can damn-well sing. Imagine, Bette Carter, Ella Fitzgerald, Nina Simone, Sarah Vaughan to name but a handful’s legitimacy, determined by the purely predictable, racialised bias of the Academy and its none-too-liberal members. There really ought to be litigation all the way to the U. S. Supreme Court to determine once and for all, if foreign-born actors are eligible to win an American award, the Oscar, when the awards are an American rather than a film festival’s prize. The very heritage of American cinema demands nothing less.

Jazz is Black culture. Jazz is Black high art. Jazz is Black spirituality. Jazz is the assertion of our humanity in the face of your savagery. Jazz music is the language of Black culture’s high-priests, its poets, its genius visionaries. Jazz… it’s about us.

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As ever, life is like a flying dream; if you look down, you’re fucked. Enjoy the ride and fear no one!

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©2013-2026 Arvin da Brgha. All Rights Reserved.

Fleeing the Court of the Bucklebury Cannibal.

A few weeks ago, after I bike rode along the pathway between the two condo towers at Scrivener Square, I had the most awesome epiphany this past week… Back then, a white male about 6′ 4″ bike-riding ahead of me, was looked at by a tall, silver-haired white female well into her 8th decade. She had had nice work done through the years and having stood aside with umbrella in the downpour and watched him go by as I approached, she came over towards my ebike, her face becoming warped with hatefulness when demanding that I not ride through the path again, her bony warped right index finger stabbing at me – as it was raining and I wore my pine green poncho, my bodycam was not on display.

Breaking the snazzy ebike, I leaned in, doing a pretty damn good Betty Davis impersonation in Cabin in the Cotton, smartly shot back, “I’d like to stay and chat but I’m afraid you smell like a mouldy crate of rotten oranges…. bye now!” Hopping onto the spiffy machine, I merrily scatted through upper middle class hell, Rosedale, en route home whilst enjoying the rain, chill and fall of beautiful-coloured leaves. When will the moneyed classes ever realise that they occupy the most squalid ghetto; naturally, as that ghetto exists beneath their ears, they haven’t a fucking clue. Days later as I rode through the familiar streets of Cabbagetown, I suddenly realised the significance of the interlude with the septuagenarian which occurred outside the towers where previously Meghan, Duchess of Sussex lived when filming Suits here in Toronto. Honest to god, who the fuck on Avenue Foch knows that woman on the rainy Scrivener pathway exists or could possibly care?

Now with a thankful job relocation, a dog-walking female on Sumach with the warmest large blue eyes smiled at me as I rode past, vocalesing and said, “Jazz in the rain, how lovely…” My god, somebody wake me, this must be the most lucid of dreams. Then on the ride to work a couple of days later, as a couple diagonally crossed Sumach on leaving Riverdale Park and onto Carlton along which TV journalist, Valerie Pringle’s parents lived, they smiled and said hello. That was when it all fell into place. I had long been wondering whence the animus towards Meghan, Duchess of Sussex came. I knew that their combined 9s were the focal point and though Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge is the stronger of the two, I always doubted where the impetus for Meghan’s rejection lay. Yet there it was, not only was it a matter of race, which of course it is, it was also a matter of classism.

Like the petit, class-conscious burghers of Rosedale, I suddenly had all the clues fall into place and there it was. Not only is it a case of women being socially conditioned to mistrust one another and create rivalries where there needs be none; however, it was most definitely about classism. The affectations of the class-conscious parvenu royals – clan Middleton, is the most odious, damaging ill to beset the House of Windsor. There she was, Catherine, on the steps of St. George’s chapel and in a display that betrayed her numerology, upper middle class snobbery and overleaves, she made sure to stay clear of Meghan, Duchess of Sussex’s mum. Doria Ragland represents that most otiose of undesirables known to the white middle classes, she is black.

Catherine it was who saw to it that Meghan did not come close to her as they and families watched their husbands playing polo. Not once did Catherine’s children so much as go over to curiously interact with the infant Archie, who only happens to be their cousin. Of course, it is obvious from the distancing and rejection of Meghan by Catherine and family at the Polo that the Cambridge royal kids were groomed to not recognise Archie as family – the only cousin they have is Pipa’s offspring.

Indeed, it was the same Catherine who saw to it that Meghan was excluded from attending her sister, Pipa’s wedding by laying down the rather arbitrary law: women not engaged or married could not attend the church service. Nonetheless, there was HRH Princess Eugenie of York, who attended the wedding with her lover, Jack Brooksbank to whom she was not then wedded nor for that matter engaged.

The hatred, animus and dread that Catherine bore Meghan was always palpable. The introduction of the dubbed ‘Fab Four’ was a dud as Catherine sat there, saying nothing and unmistakably telegraphed how much she did not consider herself anything but a solo act with William as her sidekick. Sat there onstage expectant with her third child, there were times when she looked at William and openly ridiculed Meghan in her suppressed laughter. At Wimbledon, Catherine wore her shades and her best ‘fuck you, get lost’ smile, which she readily slapped in Meghan’s direction at every chance. This is the same Catherine who had made Meghan cry because little Ms. Social Snakes & Ladders Hoochie Mama had gone from middle class gurning wallflower stalker of the Bourbon bastard, to ahead of the aristocracy and given birth to the future Sovereign. At the Sussexes’ last Commonwealth Service at Westminster Abbey, in March 2020, Catherine walked up turned around avoided Meghan in an open snub and focussed throughout on Sophie, Countess of Wessex and never so much as acknowledged Meghan to say nothing of Harry, who until she gave birth to HRH Prince George of Cambridge, future Sovereign, perceived her as the sister he never had – what did Catherine care what Harry thought, she already had a brother and birthed a future Sovereign. William, his beloved mother’s son, did the honourable thing, knowing well the optics of the situation and acknowledged both his brother and sister-in-law. This vulgarly classist behaviour by Catherine towards Meghan, is precisely the sort of ugly parvenu posturing that an aristocratic woman like India Hicks or Diana, Princess of Wales would never have engaged in. For one, both persons are/were far more travelled, socially skilled and emotionally intelligent to know that one simply does not go there, especially when the monarchy is at the heart of a commonwealth of nations, which is racially diverse, for which one has to be at all times conscious and sensitive.

The impact of the damage that Catherine has caused with her animus towards Meghan, will have long-lasting, generational effects. Unlike Diana, Princess of Wales and India Hicks, two members of the aristocracy, neither would, for being of aristocratic birth, have behaved towards Meghan the way that Catherine has. Indeed, Catherine has unfairly, for being future Queen Consort, painted the aristocracy as racist, classist boors. In the immediate, it has caused Barbados to replace the Sovereign as head of state with a recently installed President. It will also see more predominantly black Commonwealth member states break away and appoint presidents as Barbados has recently done. Also, it is going to cause in a generation or two, the end of the haemorrhaging of Oscars to Britons when the award is after all an American and not an international one.

Just as she never is seen going anywhere near black children or having black children featured in school visits, Catherine has also seen to it that she has yet to tour a predominantly black Commonwealth member state. Recently, she, William and their children were in Kenya to film the conservation special with Sir David Attenborough, yet they saw fit not to have included an official tour of the Commonwealth member states in the region. She simply does not give a damn neither does she care what it looks like. Catherine will not touch a black child; all that, when her sister-in-law is a black woman.

Blissfully unaware, there was Catherine with her emasculated, over-sexed and sexually submissive Bourbon dolt, sat across the less than 20 foot aisle of the quire before some of the most keenly astute professional psychologists, the television auteurs and executives, who attended the Sussexes’ wedding. That’s all that television is; it is about knowing every nuance and angle and how best to manipulate such so that one can convey and lay bare all the ranges of human emotions and character desired. Clueless were the Duke & Duchess of Cambridge to the fact that Rev. Curry was a tool for laying bare their sketchy-as-fuck characters to the world and for generations to come at that. Sat there were they before persons who would have written out their colleague, the bride, Meghan Markle, in season one of Suits if she were a bully and not a team player. If Meghan as the Palace, Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge and sycophantic British media, especially the tabloid medium, would have you believe, were the bully that they allege, she would never have made it to season two of Suits; for being impossible to work with, Meghan would have had her character, Rachel Zane, written out of the show by way of being killed off, leaving town or some such. The Cambridges actually think that they are more aware and sophisticated than are Meghan and her television professional colleagues and industry executives, who sat across the quire from the Bourbon oaf and his cannibalistic hoochie mama – and all by virtue of something as quaint as being of royal birth in the British Isles.

Stalker to the core, until the day Catherine dies, Meghan will live rent free in the empty hall of mirrors between the vindictive, future Queen Consort’s ears. Having succeeded in banishing Meghan, Duchess of Sussex from the Kingdom, ruled by the mousy inarticulate Queen of torpid intellect, there was Catherine further cannibalising Meghan by wearing the same dress as Abigail Spencer wore to Meghan’s wedding to beloved Diana’s son, HRH Prince Harry, Duke of Sussex. This happened after Meghan’s triumphant reception at the Global Citizen’s concert in New York City’s Central Park. She was adored and the love for Meghan was palpable, despite the ritual lynching she receives from royal household mouthpieces like fetid tabloids such as DailyMail. The significance of Catherine wearing the identical dress as Abigail Spencer wore to Meghan’s wedding, is an invidious attack on Meghan, which precisely is the kind of ‘cunning’ tactic that a petty, shit-disturbing woman possessed of a first (energy body) number of 9 would indulge in. Abigail Spencer was born August 4, 1981; that’s right, the same day as Meghan, Duchess of Sussex and that is Catherine’s indirect way of stalking and unrelentingly bullying Meghan as she did leading up to Meghan’s wedding, which resulted in Meghan breaking down and crying but which the million little arse-eating, lisping queers in her court, rushed off to their tabloid mouthpieces like the DailyMail and spun yet another lie to further malign and slander the Duchess of Sussex, who happened to prove more popular and possessed of more star power than their mousy-as-all-fuck, cannibalising androgynous queen.

Meghan in New York City with briefcase whilst en route to speak and conduct discussions at the United Nations. Mere weeks later, the copycat, cannibalistic stalker Catherine carries a briefcase for the first time ever en route to making a speech or more appropriately en route to channelling mice at a séance – honest to frigging god. More importantly, as a dog can always be expected to lick itself, Catherine traipsing in with a briefcase, is also about throwing serious shade and openly ridiculing Meghan, that N-Word Yank, who had the nerve to come anywhere near the mousy little inarticulate, bitchy, shit-disturbing, classist boor of coalmining pedigree. Look at her guffawing with the two wee little closet queer minstrel leprechauns. Ever plotting and scheming; how she must love cocksucking a fag indeed.

Meghan wears a hat not usually worn at the Remembrance Sunday ceremonies at the Cenotaph in 2019. Now with Philip’s death and the Queen fast immolating, Catherine knowing that with the Queen’s absence in 2021 at the same event, she will be in the middle in the Queen’s usual position, rather than Camilla, Duchess of Cornwall, because Catherine rather than Camilla is a future Queen Mother which Camilla never will be. So Catherine with another opportunity to cannibalise Meghan, wears a replica hat as Meghan’s two years earlier, in 2019, to telegraph her obsession and stalking of Meghan, Duchess of Sussex. Never before had Catherine worn a broad-brimmed, downturned hat to the Remembrance Sunday ceremony at the Cenotaph. Ever, like all women possessed of an energy body of 9, Catherine couldn’t resist to tear her flat arse in Meghan’s face. “That’s right, I am the one who wears that hat better than you and you will never stand on this balcony again. Now fuck off and stay gone….” How Meghan has that pernicious hoochie mama stalker – she whose stage presence can best be described as sodden cardboard… but it gurns! – of trifling pedigree and no class thoroughly possessed.

James Middleton eviscerates the enemy, Tom Bradby of ITN, at the 1:16:00 mark of the BBC’s coverage of the 2018 Royal Wedding of Duke & Duchess of Sussex.

HM The Queen has not yet died, to say nothing of HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales still being very much alive, yet there is Catherine, having William demonstrate the future of the monarchy. No doubt in due course, James Middleton with two well-endowed brothers-in-law, every bottom’s dreams come true, will be styled the Earl of Boomf. On arrival at the Sussexes wedding in May 2018, there is James hissing and being adversarial with Tom Bradby as by then, it was known to the scheming Cambridges that Tom Bradby supported the Sussexes.

Of course, that support by Bradby for the Sussexes would culminate in Meghan’s confiding to Bradby in that incendiary interview whilst on their African tour in October, 2019. With both Prince Philip’s death and the Sussexes’ sit-down interview with Oprah, Catherine has stepped up her campaign of attrition against Meghan, Duchess of Sussex. Now that the Sussexes are not resident in any of the royal households – remind me again why Meghan refused to occupy the newly refurbished apartment at Kensington Palace next-door to William and Catherine but headed instead to Frogmore Cottage – Catherine’s inability to control the media narrative against Meghan has lost its grip.

So there was stalker Catherine, she most definitely not of aristocratic birth, playing catch up and alas, she has an original thought – she is going to conduct an interview. What does that Oprah know anyway? Of course, there was Meghan on Ellen, being adored and displaying a degree of emotional intelligence and charm, which no doubt caused the gurning, mousy silent film ingenue to chain smoke and wolf down a half dozen lima beans.

Back in June 2017, I was staying in Chelsea when on returning from a Royal Ballet performance, soon the mood was broken by the sounds of multiple fire brigade sirens peeling into the night. Looking out, the sky was ablaze with an orange beacon and with time calls came through that there was a tower on fire. The next day, HM The Queen arrived at the site of the Grenfell Tower fire, followed shortly thereafter by HRH Prince William, Duke of Cambridge. There was no Catherine in sight. This past Remembrance week, 2021, there was Catherine, the little elitist kiss-ass, looking like everybody’s favourite little shabbos goy. Running and dispensing hugs, a thing her parvenu classist bigotry could never bring herself to do with the impoverished in her Kingdom. Imagine her dispensing hugs to the little people of Grenfell indeed. Meanwhile, there was Meghan, Duchess of Sussex “Boots on the ground” heading into the Grenfell community, volunteering, giving back and soon enough there was the Together cookbook to which she contributed in a bid to assist the devastated community getting back on its feet.

Why do the Cambridges think that America is yearning for a tour by themselves in 2022? Just as they outed themselves before the industry professionals at the Sussexes’ wedding, who were sat across the quire from them and the rest of the world, everyone knows damn well who is at the centre of the vilification of the Sussexes and chiefly Meghan, Duchess of Sussex. Catherine, enabled by her bullied husband, and a frankly racist British tabloid medium, idly sat by and allowed the narrative of Meghan the bully who made her, Catherine, cry at the time of the Sussexes’ royal wedding in 2018, when it was patently not true. How then are you supposed to believe these godforsaken boors. Again, someone please inform the blissfully unaware Cambridges that America has not been a colony going on three centuries; there is no need for a tour of these utterly useless, clueless, racist boors. Go on, go tour all those predominantly black Commonwealth member states instead.

That’s right so says Billy shiny pate, which like St. Paul’s Cathedral’s copula is rather high and mighty but empty nonetheless. A head full of petty, perniciousness and bigotry that betrays his nineness – second number of 9 as per his mindset – how William perceives all reality. God only knows, there aren’t too many people in both India and Pakistan, which likely explains why he has toured both countries with his pale, one-dimensional gurning boor. Oh and let’s not forget that trip to Bhutan so that he could predatorily get close to one of his potential conquests. The royal rota and British tabloids truly are stupid if they think that persons, most especially Americans, are not aware how the Cambridges are given a free pass and all that is wrong with the status quo is Meghan. You banished her, resoundingly got rid of her without somehow no one in British journalism asking what role the Cambridges have played in the whole affair. Now with Meghan banished, the Great & Perfect White Queen has emerged and yet she still can’t get enough; on and on, she continues with her cannibalistic campaign of stalking Meghan and thereby betraying her guilt. Britons are simply small-minded, small-island simpletons if they can’t see that Americans are not readily fooled. One thing is certain, Americans are second to no one and they most definitely do not like to be attacked and treated unfairly by persons whom they successfully fought a war to be rid of. Americans are about being out there and being self-made and representing and my god, how Meghan has brilliantly succeeded in doing just that. She is the very epitome of the American dream and no amount of racist slander and trying to paint her as bully and liar is going to change Americans’ opinions of Meghan. And therein lies the explanation of Catherine’s obsession with Meghan. Meghan is American and self-made, did it all on her own with her own drive and inordinate talents. Catherine on the other hand, represents the British paradigm, you only matter for being of noble birth or if as in Catherine’s case, you did sweet fuck-all but stalk, fuck your way to a walk down the aisle at Westminster Abbey with the Bourdon bastard’s balls attached to your garter.

That crass, violent public display is what caused Meghan to cry. Meghan cried because incredulously and impatiently it was a way to take Catherine to task and address her monstrous vulgarity by asking, “Bitch why don’t you grow a pair and be a real woman… a fucking feminist?” Catherine is as common as muck and her using the race card to demonise and banish a more charismatic and popular sister-in-law from the kingdom via the lies planted mostly in the tabloid medium, is a keen example of Catherine being a product of the vulgar middle classes. There positively is no way that Diana would have been so callously brusque in her ongoing war with Charles when in public as Catherine was towards beloved Diana’s firstborn whom she, Catherine, has clearly emasculated as per the unedited contretemps which the BBC chose to keep in their show, BBC’s A Berry Royal Christmas – more like, Bullocks! It’s A Bullied Royal Christmas. Catherine does not give a damn; she has no class. William is irrelevant to her; if he died tomorrow, she would fast become Regent on William’s passing until HRH Prince George of Cambridge came of age and acceded the throne. Catherine knows and understands her power and in that sense, she has driven the narrative of cannibalising and driving Meghan from the kingdom and she doesn’t give a fuck what it looks like. She is of the middle class and as such erroneously gives the aristocracy a bad name; however, on closer inspection, Catherine truly cannot give the aristocracy a bad name – Catherine gives herself a bad name and no one else. She has certainly done more to damage and sabotage HM The Queen’s legacy than any other single member of the BRF and that includes HRH Prince Andrew of York’s proclivity for deflowering minor meat.

Just look at her family, the Middletons, at the Sussexes’ wedding. They stood there, an absolute island, isolated and onto themselves; they never so much as once spoke to anyone else because they had gone from coal mine to Palace faster than one could dynastically sneeze where monarchies are concerned. No more than lepers; frightfully middle class, they stood there without the aristocracy paying them any mind and of course dynastic parvenu, they stood there snickering at tout le monde.

At long last, someone has the balls to stand up to these slithering bullies and set the record straight. Naturally, the royal households: Buckingham Palace, Clarence House and Kensington Palace all shrill and moan in protesting the BBC’s The Princes and the Press. Finally, the fissure has revealed itself to paraphrase Andrew Marr and unmistakably, the slithering saboteurs’ faces will finally be unmasked to all of Britain. That’s right, Catherine, no matter what you do, being a future Queen Consort & Queen Mother does not enable you to escape the karma of your numbers. 9 in the first position and in time, for all history, Catherine will be exposed as a shit-disturbing boor and a petty middle class bigot.

As for William, much like King George V, with whom he shares the exact same numerology, he hates Americans as George V hated Wallis Simpson and all Americans – ergo his loathing of Meghan, who serves to show up that androgynous sodden cardboard, Catherine, for all she is – nothing… beyond her ability to gurn with sociopathic élan. Furthermore, William will go down in history as William the Oaf, completely and utterly unaware as when he shot off his clueless mouth, criticising Jeff Bezos for going into space rather than working on climate change then having to suck up to self-made American, Jeff Bezos at Cop26 because… he’s a frigging, goddamn tactless fool. William is looking for funding for his Earthshot Prize and more importantly, he would rather Jeff Bezos not retaliate by throwing funds at the very American, Meghan, Duchess of Sussex and the Sussexes’ Archewell Foundation. William is milquetoast and his partner in crime is a petty classist boor, to say nothing of bore, who is rather ill-equipped to be on the world stage in any meaningful capacity. Never forget that whereas Harry has only one brother, William has two; his older brother, like William will in time, is a Sovereign. There is no randomness or coincidences when it comes to genetics; there is no fluke in the current Crown Princess of Spain, having the same teeth and gum aesthetics as William. Yes, Diana strayed but the timeline plus when and with whom she strayed, is falsified to hide the very real fact that HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales is not William’s father.

Prince William and Kate Middleton in Dublin - Dublin Live
That's The Spirit! Will & Kate Sample Shots At A Harvest Event 🥃 •  Celebrity WotNot
Kate Middleton Shimmers in Mint Green While Serving Beer With Prince William  in Northern Ireland | Entertainment Tonight

Catherine’s got that alcoholic’s dead eye. Always, she loves a good stiff drink in public – just imagine what goes on behind closed doors – and at such times when in public, she is always aggressively playful and in so doing further emasculates William, who at all such times becomes catatonically wooden. But y’are Blanche, y’are a fucking dump! That’s right, just another common as muck, middle class boor. What’s more, she’s just a coal-mining Bucklebury hoochie mama and she sure loves her liquor! Having resoundingly stalked and cannibalised poor William, as she hustled and stalked the backwoods runway in Scotland, what else was she, Catherine, of no discernible class or sophistication to say nothing of intellect and stage presence, to do but turn icy hoochie mama and cannibalise Meghan with the aide of the rabid castrati who work the royal biography, journalist racket – most of whom have a 9 somewhere in their numerology.

Sad really, but unwittingly they and Catherine are blissfully unaware that they are doing nothing but undoing much of the work done by HM The Queen, for which, of course, they ever turn around and start laying blame at Meghan’s door for causing HM The Queen so much grief and distress in her twilight years.

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As ever, life is like a flying dream; if you look down, you’re fucked. Enjoy the ride and fear no one!

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©2013-2026 Arvin da Brgha. All Rights Reserved.

Pluto in Capricorn & in Opposition – Pandemic & Retribution.

Last February as I made my way by subway to the Four Seasons Centre for the Performing arts, the season’s latest opera was on that night – of course, what I then did not know, was that the rest of the opera season would eventually be cancelled – the most jarring thing occurred. A young Amerindian male with the glossiest black mane, took two steps back on the TTC train platform and dropped his black gym bag. “Are you fucking talking to me? No bitch, I’m talking to you! Did I invite you into my country?” The rage and the booming power of his voice was arresting. The tall effete Caucasian male tried brushing him off as though he were so much raped and abandoned non-whitedom. Before I knew what next, The five-foot-nothing, proud Amerindian punched his adversary square in his girly man face. Crying out like a right candy-arsed sissy, the Caucasian weakly protested, all whilst rushing backwards. My proud Amerindian brother was just getting started. Of course, I, who have grown soft for making peace with being a black male in this racially suffocating society, cried out when the first punch landed. Bam, another punch to the face as the much shorter warrior defended his land, his people, pride and history. “Yeah you, did I fucking invite you to my country?” and another blow. Bloodied and cowering, the all-mouth, cowardly closet cocksucker was resoundingly handed his arse and put in his rightful place.

The opera, Hansel & Gretel, was beautifully staged – set in the stark isolation of Toronto condo living. I was, though, never fully engaged as I spent the next several days readjusting to having had that young warrior shaman heal my spirit by his very proud actions and the conviction of his words. The next several days, I kept returning to the incident with the proud Amerindian. My reaction at the time had stunned me and in hindsight, I kept revisiting why I chose to be so upset at the attack on the arrogant male, who was being pummelled. He had taunted and dismissed the Amerindian male – a socially aggressive behaviour from whites with which one was long familiar. I realised that so many times in situations as then, we as blacks are programmed to sublimate and ‘take it’ rather than defending oneself from the hideous ugliness of the spiritually stunted.

Then something quite remarkable happened, the murderous lynching of George Floyd in callously stark veracity that cell phone ubiquity has afforded in the modern age. The event was seismic; the raw brutality of the racial predator on the hunt was so glaring, so jarring that it set ablaze protests across the planet. Indeed, the cell phone, like the beating of Rodney King, has been able to capture the ugliness that is whiteness which prior to, meant that one could lie away and grin away with exquisite triumphant glee, fucking with the enemy – an enemy on whom one preys never having been preyed on by that enemy. Slowly, the exoskeleton with which one straitjackets oneself in order to make peace and to be a black man peacefully making it through one day to the next, began losing its grip.

Scenes like in the early days of lockdown 2020, I was in line at Pusateri’s at Yorkville Avenue and Bay Street to pick up a couple of bottles of VOSS water. Old, ugly as fuck, the woman in line ahead of me turned around and began screaming at the top of her hateful lungs in a scene that could easily have been played by her in South Africa. She demanded that I get the hell away from her because I was clearly not practising proper social distancing and remaining more than two metres apart. Of course, this had nothing to do with the coronavirus pandemic but everything to do with her seizing an opportunity to be a hate-filled racist boor. As much as I wanted to readily turn rapaciously vituperative and tell her to try 2 metres below ground; instead, I took two operatic steps back and coolly and eloquently boomed with scathing condescension, “Look at you! On your hind legs and everything! Seriously though…” With that, after having laughed a vulgar dismissive breath, I impatiently strode to the back of the line to be rid of the fugly parvenu boor. Everyone, staff and clients, froze. She, of course, squawked and grumbled as I focussed my discriminating attention to a conversation via Whatsapp video about dinner with my transitioning spouse at our art-filled home, who on the eve of Bob Marley’s birthday, two decades earlier, I wedded at Montréal’s Palais de Justice both decked in gold-threaded, crisp white linen Yoruba agbada with her a matching gele. As can be expected of cowardly fare, the anaemic-looking young couple now two metres in front of me, simply ignored the social dustup by hungrily face-fucking in their best escapist Bonobo turn. Naturally, the old harpy got from the line to kvetch to whomsofuckingever and when the cashier asked if I wanted a bag, I declined, telling her that I would rather be kind on the environment. Turning to leave the tightly spaced store, I paused and shot down her evil glare by raising both VOSS waters, one in each hand, and shouted, L’Chaim! That ought to have left her pissy knickers smelling louder on leaving the store.

Soon enough, the acts of racially predatory social aggression became more frequent and pronounced. There was the incident one cool morning where a hirsute covering of blond furred redhead stopped jogging in front of me, grabbed a hold of my bike’s handlebar and began screaming as though I were both blind and deaf as he demanded that I keep the hell off the sidewalk. It wasn’t enough that cell phones had exposed their murderous ugliness but as though to protest, whites have grown more emboldened with the affront of blacks and Black Lives Matter movement to demonstrate and demand change.

By early June last year, 2020, I had had enough, each morning on the ride to work through tony Rosedale, I was being accosted by various burghers of the beautifully tree-lined streets – then again, which Toronto residential neighbourhood street is not beautifully tree-lined. There was one Jew in particular, who caused me to go out and get the above bodycam. Each morning, as I am a creature of habit, he was in the habit of leaving the sidewalk to come into the middle of the street, approach as I bike-ride to pepper me with hideous racial slurs and demand that I keep the hell out of the neighbourhood. Good morning, Shithead! Good morning you black piece of shit. Get out of here! Finally, one morning, having quite had enough of him and his special brand of ugliness of spirit, I told him to go fuck himself to which he incredulously demanded at the top of his lungs, unlike his usually sotto voce delivered insults as he approached the bike, “Get back here! Get back here now! I’m talking to you. Come back here now!” The nerve of some people. That last incident occurred on a Friday and thank god for Jeff Bezos, by Monday, I had me a bodycam. So as my special kind of fugly, hairy back and arsed nuisance came bopping off the sidewalk, ready to be racial predatory white male asshole number 1 billion, 500 million and 99, he caught sight of my bodycam, lights on and all, and like the bipedal, über poilu Rottweiler-hybrid that he is, he readily retreated for the cover of the sidewalk. I have never seen him since and, of course, I had ignored everyone’s advice to take another route to work. What the fuck for? As I am born in the year of the Rat, I am no different to any other rat; we live firmly self-aware that rats fear no one.

A few months back in between spells of too much snow, I abandoned my bike and elected to take a ride. On the way home, as I go from job A to job B, I told the unibrowed, wild-eyed driver that I was in a bit of a hurry and would show him a shortcut to my place. He again said nothing, just as he hadn’t as I got into his ride and said hello. Though, I wore a colourful silk mask over the daily disposable N-95 mask, his shitty ride I swear, smelt like what no doubt just-fucked camel pussy does. Told to take a left off Yonge onto Roxborough, finally not surprised was I when he proved a short-tempered fuck whose pointy fingers on that wheel had me dismissing him as so much forgettable small-cocked fare. He barked rather than spoke that he followed the GPS, which had called out to make a left onto Crescent so many metres ahead south down Yonge Street. Thus, we ventured, clearly grudgingly for him, along Roxborough and as we approached, I announced that I wanted him to make a right turn onto Wrentham to Crescent. Immediately, the über-poilu beast, which made me think Ursa hybrid, stepped on the gas drove east past Wrentham, down the hill and pulled onto Mount Pleasant without so much as having looked left in the process. As it was rush hour, there would be no left turns south of Bloor along Jarvis which Mount Pleasant becomes before Gerrard Street East or possibly Shuter Street East. To be sure, I was more than a little bit pissed off when telling the inbred, short-fused jackass to turn off of Mount Pleasant, onto Elm and turn right at Sherbourne North as had been intended. “You fucking idiots, who the hell are you people to talk to anybody like you own something?” Then he violently broke the car, just north of South Drive and demanded that I get out of his car. Coolly, I got out and left the door open and when he swore at me and demanded I shut his fucking door now, I told him I thought I would do him a favour and air it out, seeing as how it stunk of camel… the camel-fucker did not, of course, get the insult. Readily, I pulled out my camera and told him, ‘yeah come out here and get some of this.’ He got out of his shitty little car, cut the beady eyes at me, slammed the door shut, told me and my people to go fuck ourselves to which I replied, “happy black history month to you, too…” By the time I got onto Sherbourne North, my Samsung S20 had died. Naturally, thanks to coronavirus, I had no cash and there was no way to call a cab or Uber. In this neck of the woods, a random taxi was a nonstarter.

Foreground Bloor & Parliament in St. James Town, to right distance, Yorkville, Centre distance, One Bloor East currently tallest condo at 76 storeys, at Yonge & Bloor, Centre mid-distance Sherbourne to Church (east to west) Upper Gay Village or more pretentiously south Yorkville (ha!).

Doggedly, I decided to simply walk it home, just as I got unto the Sherbourne Street bridge, I began experiencing an anxiety attack. Years earlier, I had witnessed someone leap from the Jacques Cartier bridge that spans the St. Lawrence in Montréal. Suddenly, out of nowhere as anxiety attacks tend to function, I was in the grips of crippling fear. I knew that there was no way that I could cross the bridge, even to try and make it back seemed a feat, there was a sudden desire to start running, which I knew that I could not do. A young Amerindian couple in the city, for the first time it turned out, crossed the bridged, going south on the west side – same as me. I explained my dilemma and asked if they would call me a cab. The proud warrior-looking man, barely into his 20s insisted that I simply conquer my fear by walking beside him and his beautiful girlfriend. I tried…. I wanted to. I could not, though, as I began shaking… just the sheer weight of why I was there in the first place simply for being black and asking the driver to take a preferred route – it all seemed so absurd, yet it is an indignity that one endures at every turn in a million ways every frigging day in this society. The warmest eyes winked at me as he smiled and the Beck taxi came up the bridge made a U-turn and the young warrior closed the door on me, wishing me well. Eventually, I got home late and when I was done job B where I fundraise in the arts and remain unrivalled, I wrote a detailed account of my ride with the bigot who kicked me from his car and was summarily refunded. As if Jazz the blasted motherfuck were invented by unibrowed, camel-fucking, hairy back-and-arsed dreck.

Days later, and still black history month, I was riding my bike through the wet streets of Rosedale where the snow melted fast after the latest snowfall. As I emerged onto Crescent Road from the footpath which Scrath becomes, to cross the bridge that spans Mount Pleasant Road, a white female in a black, skin-tight, jogging suit was way in back of a group of jogging white males whom I had seen with fair regularity. She was clearly not part of their group. Jogging in the street as she was, she moved to the side as I approached and then with the arrogance of the truly somnambulant, aggressively called after me in a tone that was both accusatory and possessive as I moved past, “Excuse me, where are you going?” That morning, I happened not to be wearing my bodycam as when I got downstairs, realised that the snow had sufficiently melted such that I could actually ride my bike rather than take a cab. Without so much as missing a beat, I broke hard and stood straddling my bike when reaching into the shallow depths of her sphinctered psyche, “I’m going to your house to fuck your man!” She stood there arrested, catatonic as my use of language was both vulgar, rapacious. “That’s right, I’m gonna hog-tie that fucking cocksucker of yours and fuck him good… Yeah, you wanna come watch? Come on!” Arrested in place, her eyes welled up as mine remained unflinchingly enraged, her lizard-thin upper lip actually trembling. With that, I resumed riding my bike to job A to which I was already running late. In this the age of Trump, some whites at every chance, turn racially predatory at the drop of a hat.

Then there are the casket fugitives; these blasted tiresome, overstayed boomers, who simply will not stop showing off and just crawl the fuck in their caskets. What other generation but boomers would find a new way to show-off in their smelly diapers and drug-wasted dotage? They, these lost souls forever hurrying about way off-piste, are ever bitching and at times raising their silly poles at me, demanding that I not ride on pathways but dismount and walk. Once confronted by a turkey-necked mannish boor, I leaned in and asked near-inaudibly, “Don’t you tire of breathing? Go on, go chill the fuck out in your casket”

And then November 3, 2020 turned into January 6, 2021 as that porcine pathological compulsive liar – America’s biggest loser and racist swine, finally left the stage with crooked tail between his fat thighs with the Eurotrash escort cum parvenu snob in tow. The cold-blooded murder of George Floyd, staged or simply instinctual racially predatory behaviour, like the big fat coward that he is, having miserably failed at leading and taking command of the pandemic, Trump latched on to the murder of George Floyd to win the vote. That’s right, it was all about not haemorrhaging the white vote; thus it became all about cops and law and order – all code language for white privilege and racist white supremacy. Well, it did not fucking work! Fuck you!

Not only did Trump fail to steal the vote by declaring Marshall law and leading an insurrection on the Capitol, he and his racist ilk’s poster boy for racially predatory murderous scum was convicted on all three counts. George Floyd’s murder occurred at the Pluto opposition in Capricorn and thus the past four hundred years of murderous racially predatory blood sport of blacks finally led to George being anointed as the One. That’s right, for the first time in 400 years, a cop has been found guilty of the murder of a black male. For blacks, America the past 400 years has been nothing but a giant game reserve where they are hunted with the arrogant impunity of police getting off time and again when murdering blacks. Let that sink in for a moment. America the land where whites can murder whilst dressed up in the hunting gear of the police uniform – all the while, other whites the world over perpetually on holiday having predatory sex with minors whilst everyone looks the other way. Thanks to his murder, and trophy-hunting racial predator Chauvin having been found guilty of murder, George Floyd became a martyr who has broken the long 400 year tradition of the justice system in America condoning the racially predatory murder of blacks at the hands of police. Pluto in Capricorn indeed. The hijacked American justice system where blacks are corralled to spike the profit margins for BlackRock shareholders… talk about genius, indeed.

Always… with every breath… it is quintessentially Jazz!

Recent ride through Rosedale because of whose venal classist/racist aggression, I have taken to wearing the bodycam. As ever, Jazz permeates my every breath; how could it not when my father’s first cousin, the recently deceased actor Cicely Tyson was wife of Jazz genius Miles Davis? A new friend with lots of past-life history, asked why I am always singing the same Jazz tune when cycling; it is a form of meditation, I shared, as I move from job A to job B. By vocalesing and singing a favourite Jazz tune, I am getting refocussed to the task next in hand – fundraising in the arts… at which I am damn good. In the above clip, at the 06:24 mark, one can clearly see the septuagenarian white female with bags in hand, walking north in the southbound bike lane. Likely she chose to do so to avoid being too close to persons on the kerb. Either way, her choice and no business of mine. Minutes as I got further down Sherbourne Street, at which point, I had stopped recording, as I was now going south in the northbound bike lane a total of 3 white female passing, violently yelled and called me every kind of asshole imaginable. White females are ten times more likely than white males to be verbally abusive in such situations; however, non-white, non-black males and females almost never engage in such predatory social aggression. The idea that I am going to time-waste by yelling at someone for simply going in the opposite direction of the usual flow of bike traffic in a given lane is beyond absurd. So fucking what? Last winter before getting the bodycam, there was a white male in early forties with about 4% body fat running north in the northbound bike lane along the Sherbourne Street bridge. As I approached at a leisurely pace, I could tell that he was wearing air buds and not wanting to surprise him simply rode pass saying and doing nothing. Shocked, though not surprised, was I when he upped his jogging pace and began running alongside on my right. Yelling as though a drill sergeant, he began calling me an asshole and demanded to know why I had not used my fucking bell when passing him. Not jogging on the kerb was he, nor was he jogging towards oncoming bike and vehicular traffic; yet, he and his perceptions had perceived me as being at fault for riding alongside and passing him without having given him warning of my approach. This world is overrun by truly blind assholes, very well-armed, truly blind assholes.

A few days ago as I hopped off my bike with time to kill between jobs A & B, I slipped into the reconstituted shrine to Canadian ice hockey which became the flagship store of Loblaws, another of the Weston family’s retail gems. On entering, there was a police officer just inside – a new pandemic feature. Tall, handsome and of South Pacific heritage, the male officer engagingly greeted me, willingly, I ambled over and he commended me on the bodycam. Said he, every person of colour ought to be wearing one; indeed, I agreed, it amazingly affords one peace of mind and a harassment free ride about town. He laughed when told of how hostile the burghers of Rosedale can be, adding that he was not surprised in the least at the account of in-your-face open bigotry.

With nimble vivacity me and my paniers whisked through the place, emerging minutes later with organic ginger, beautifully pungent organic turmeric, Ocean Spray’s Cran-Grape drink – this drink screams sugar is the drug y’all – and of course, the most exquisite cheddar cheese. Whether at tea, with pâté or dark chocolate, the President’s Choice (Loblaws house brand) aged 5 years crumbly cheddar cheese is as musky and satisfying as a full Moon night spent indulging rugged mansex in the moss-saturated bois of Vancouver’s Stanley Park. Slipping outside, as I loaded up my paniers on my trusty brown Schwinn Gateway, the four bottles of VOSS water made the paniers hard to close shut – larger than the VOSS available in Yorkville, who needs Pusateri’s and Yorkville’s parvenu pretentious bullshit anyway?

As ever, life is like a flying dream; if you look down, you’re fucked. Enjoy the ride and fear no one!

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©2013-2026 Arvin da Brgha. All Rights Reserved.

Bullocks! That Is Not A Fucking Clit!

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Game show host: Famous Quotes.  “Bullocks!  That is not a fucking clit!” 

Game show host: Contestant, respond either A or B to which you think is the correct answer.  Who was this said about when seen naked for the first time by her future husband, was it A. Vicereen Bianca of Trenchtown or B. Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex? 

Contestant: A! 

Game show host: Right, you are!  

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From Alanna Plattapuss, to Pierre-Karol Gorgon, all week long they and the OTT vicereen – she of none-too-dubious gender and the likely need for a surrogate’s services, carped on with their usual vitriol against, Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex.  Just imagine the temerity of the Trenchtown sketel, likkle jagabat rass, carping on about Meghan not being royal and a hustler who needs a new act and all that, commandingly boomed with the rolling vowels and vulgar cocksucker mouth to boot.  Then by the end of that week, along rolls the weekend full of karmic retribution et voilà Lord Porchester’s sprog was back in the news for those proclivities of his that has him favouring veal and other minor fare.  

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Diana, Princess of Wales gave good face; she went in, shook hands, did the doe-eyed routine and sold millions of copies to say nothing of raising funds.  I was in London’s Chelsea the night in June 2017, having just returned from Covent Garden where I discovered, Natalia Osipova, when what sounded like several fire trucks, raced through the streets of West London. 

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The next morning as Grenfell dominated news everywhere on the tube, I watched as first HRH Prince William, Duke of Cambridge followed after by HM The Queen, visited the site of the horrific towering inferno.  Soon enough, having done their duty, they were gone.  

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Will someone please ask that blasted cross-dresser, masquerading as a woman, toff or god forbid royal, what is not admirable, to say nothing of royal about Meghan, Duchess of Sussex?  First order of business, after having so handsomely given good theatre as she commandingly ascended the west steps of St. George’s Chapel, Windsor Castle to join her warrior-souled entity mate, HRH Prince Henry, Duke of Sussex with whom she has enjoyed relations in 20 past lives, Meghan goes and meets with the victims of the Grenfell Tower tragedy. 

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Now, here is where she goes one better and is the true evolution of all that Diana, Princess of Wales represented, she not only meets with them, however, she devises a scheme whereby those victims can experience a continued sense of community and in the process, she created a cookbook which as part of her charitable endeavours, has greatly assisted these victims in need.  Say what you want, but Diana, Princess of Wales never did any such thing.  A copy of said cookbook has repeatedly sat on my kitchen counter as I have prepared meals from those recipes.  

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Yet, there is that blasted jagabat, Vicereen Bianca as pompous and full of shit as they come, hopping on the bandwagon in hopes of earning a few more pence so she can go shopping at Poundland to fill Castle Chav, for which she plays chatelaine whom no one on Avenue Foch to say nothing of Kensington Palace Gardens could care less about.  With that cookbook, Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex did something that Diana, Princess of Wales and no other royal before her had pulled off or could, she effectively greatly humanised and endeared the royals to not just the Muslims of the Commonwealth but to the 2.5 billion Muslims the world over.  Too, it matters with her biracial ambiguity that Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex is able to fluidly straddle ethnic, racial and religious lines where others in the royal family cannot.  

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Someone please remind Vicereen Bianca, Monsieur Gorgon et al who are so quick to racially foam at the mouth that after having been booed at Royal Albert Hall and Princess Michael of Kent, having sported the blackamoor brooch to The Queen’s Buckingham Palace Christmas lunch in 2017, all the more reason why Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex would require being sat alone with her two friends at Winbledon without having persons close to them so that she can enjoy a social situation without having the average garden variety bigot make cutting, racially predatory remarks about her for being within earshot.  If you think that this is something which every black does not endure on a daily basis then you are free to go outside and see the Virgin Mother in the next cloud formations – funny how these delusional people never see comeback pussy when cloud-gazing,  

Never once have Gorgon, Vicereen Bianca, Plattapuss et al made mention of that outright racist attack on the part of Princess Michael of Kent.  First of all, for her deliberate racist action, she should not have been suffered at what also happened to have been a black wedding on May 19, 2018.  Not only did she not represent, by her racist attack, HM The Queen, HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales, HRH Princess Anne, Princess Royal but she did not represent her husband, HRH Prince Michael of Kent and his mother, Princess Marina and her family the Greek and Yugoslav royals.  For god sake, stop claiming to know what Diana, Princess of Wales would have thought or how she would have gotten on with Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex when she, Vicereen Bianca cannot produce a single photograph of herself and the late Diana, whose son, Meghan’s loving husband, ought damn well to know more than the fabulist royal, to say nothing of arch-fantasist, or any other racially predatory, vile, obsessed arsehat.  

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With Jeffrey Epstein once again white hot in the media, far be it from Vicereen Bianca of Trenchtown, Alanna Plattapuss and snivelling pompous racial predator par excellence, Pierre-Karol Gorgon who has conspicuously fallen catatonic with revelations of rather unseemly behaviour becoming of royals from the Earl Porchester’s minor proclivities and the minor royals’ being pimped out by crass parvenu fare from the Far East.  Just imagine the field day these clowns would have if it were Harry & Meghan?  Funny how they have all fallen silent.  What a shame that Madame Safra did not expediently have Vicereen Bianca dispense with as so resoundingly Mr. Epstein has been.  Alas, why should Madame Safra have when the Vicereen Bianca herself is fucking nobody…. let her live and suffer… indeed, a fate far worse than Epstein’s…. Poor, pompous miserable-arsed Vicereen Bianca über poseur (definitely not poseuse) having to drag arse through life in search of that can’t-come-soon-enough casket of hers.  

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All their racially predatory braying, regardless how much they protest it having anything to do with race – the cowards never concede the obvious, this has all been seen before.  The same mass hysteria Doria Ragland was familiar with in the 70s as the racial predators foamed and raged at bussing in Massachusetts.  Earlier, too, in the 60s, just as now with Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex, Doria would remember the water canons and dogs in George Wallace’s gallant South.  

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Just know this, no matter how much you vilify, demonise and slander Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex, she is going nowhere.  Social media and the amount of open racist animus that is directed Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex’s way is not in the least surprising.  Social media is merely an evolution of behaviour on the part of non-blacks when privately looking at television.  One of the things I realised and it was something that Merlin actually pointed out to me when we were in the early days of our relationship in Manhattan: when whites are looking at television and someone black appears on the screen, their response will 9 of 10 times be negative.  This can run from simply turning the channel, leaving the room or simply engaging in conversation and ignoring the television such that the black person on screen simply is not heard.  There is nothing more infuriating than trying to look at a live television concert or event, like an awards show and the moment someone black walks out on stage, the negative noise pollution starts up.  At one dinner party, on the Upper West Side, Merlin had invited Frederick Jones to come along as Merlin met with a set designer friend of his.  Every time that someone black appeared on screen, the character assassination would kick off.  Of course, it did not take too long before gifted milliner, Frederick Jones simply got up and walked out as more yapping ensued when Gladys Knight and the Pips began singing.  At this point in life, I never look at television, when rarely I do, in the company of non-blacks; it is simply not worth the ghettoised racialised response, which manifests each time.  

She, Meghan, and more importantly her soul when incarnate as Margaret Beaufort, not you Vicereen Bianca of Trenchtown, Pierre-Karol Gorgon et al made possible Christ’s College Cambridge and St. John’s College Cambridge as a result of her soul’s effort in a past life.  For being a fierce feminist in that illustrious past life as Tudor matriarch, mother of King Henry VII, grandmother of King Henry VIII and great-grandmother of Queen Elizabeth I, has a women’s college, Lady Margaret College, Oxford in her honour been established.  Nothing you do here and now can invalidate that soul’s past accomplishments, no more than it can prevent her soul’s agendum in this lifetime.  

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Of course, it is understandable that with the discovery of King Richard III’s remains in 2012 with their reburial at Leicester Cathedral in 2015, we would discover that William Shakespeare’s portrayal of Richard III as the hunchback monster was misguided.  Indeed, it is not coincidental that Richard III would resurface within a couple of years of Meghan Markle’s ascendancy.  Meghan’s soul, then Margaret Beaufort in her bid to secure the supremacy of the Tudor claim, had Richard III demonised.  Now returned, and also mid-cycle mature-souled, Meghan finds herself beset with open animus.  As much as this is in part due to rabid open racial animus, let’s not avoid facts, it is also because mid-cycle mature lives tend to come with a bit of self-karmic drama and some degree of infamy.  

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For having slandered Richard III, returned here Margaret Beaufort’s reincarnated soul, who is now now Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex, finds herself despite her considerable accomplishments when Margaret Beaufort, opposed and rejected.  Nonetheless, she is possessed of a Venus/Solar body type, which means that she will, in time, transcend the current open animus and prove immensely popular and well-loved.  Moreover, another mid-cycle mature-souled member of the House of Windsor happens to be Camilla, HRH Duchess of Cornwall.  She too, owing to whatever went down in past lives, relative to this one, has seen her tried by fire, vilified and demonised; yet, she has handsomely weathered the storm of rabid gutter snipes being bitter bitches to emerge as one of the most loved, warm, august-souled royals.  What’s not to love, she champions literacy, literature and hands out the Man Booker Prize each year!  

All that aside, no matter how these race-baiting agitators vent, rant and instigate, they will change nothing.  Their campaign has been so doggedly juvenile and at every turn, they fail.  It all began with the Straight outta Compton missive and it has been one racially charged attack, assumption, innuendo-filled report after another.  All have been transparently specious: There will never be an engagement; The Queen would never allow it.  Then, indeed, when it happened, HM The Queen was dismissed as clearly demented.  Meghan is not fit to be a royal.  She has been married three times before.  She is actually 41.  Samantha is secretly raising her bastard child.  She is just a z-list actress.  She is a yacht girl,  She was not properly vetted.  She is a narcissist.  She is vile; how could she not speak to her father?  Doria is a felon and was imprisoned.  She abandoned her dogs.  She was living with Corey and seeing Prince Harry.  I hate Prince Harry.  Oh Harry what have you done?  All that The Queen has worked for!  That was not a royal wedding.  All that gospel crap and all the celebrities; it made a mock of royal weddings.  There was clearly tension in the marriage when Meghan brushed off Harry whilst sat in the quire at HRH Princess Eugenie’s marriage.  Eugenie’s was a real royal wedding.  Meghan’s dress was a disgrace and it did not fit.  

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Days after having decided that there was trouble in the Sussexes’ marriage, there was the announcement of the pregnancy; this was readily followed by Meghan being attacked: she is selfish and narcissistic, for having announced the pregnancy at Eugenie’s wedding; this of course when they had no idea when the rest of the Royal family was informed of the pregnancy.  She bleaches her skin.  None of those celebrities at her wedding know her.  It was the worse wedding ever; definitely, it was not a royal wedding.  All that money on clothes and she never looks good; they are all ill-fitting clothes.  Thank god, she is such a terror that the queen has banished her to Frogmore Cottage, right next to Wallis Simpson’s grave.  Prince William can see through her.  She has caused nothing but trouble in the royal family.  They need to be banished.  She is Wallis Simpson reincarnated (never mind that you first have to die before reincarnating; Wallis died in 1986, five years after Meghan’s birth.  Moreover, there is usually anywhere from 15 to 30 years, roughly twenty before most souls reincarnate).  Harry doesn’t smile anymore.  Harry is lost.  Harry is pussy-whipped.  She is not pregnant.  Pillow gate.  Stop clutching that bump.  There is a pillow, see how it moves.  She is not pregnant.  She is definitely using a surrogate.  Oh my god, she is writing notes on the bananas, who does that?  Who does she think she is?  Thank god William was born first.  Kate is a real princess.  Catherine is pure class; never puts a foot wrong.  

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This campaign of race-baiting and hatred is but a macrocosm of the microcosmic dynamic which is acted out in families all too often.  A perfectly balanced child is projected onto and bullied into fitting into some ascribed persona within the family’s iconographic dictates.  Bob the little devil or Miranda the little Lolita when in fact, these archetypes have nothing to do with the subject of the projection.  Daily attack articles and specious speculative articles in the print medium to further incite the public to hatred changes nothing.  Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex is phenomenally popular across the Commonwealth, in particular amongst blacks.  This need to vilify Meghan is rooted in the collective psyche of white tribalism, which feels itself tasked with having to remain top baboon as it were as the white population in Western Europe contracts and is further stressed by the burgeoning Islamic population in its midst.  This need to play soap opera with the royals is part and parcel of that dynamic need to be on top… and always winning,  One must ever be in control and be first, better than and all that maya.  This is why Simon Cowell has become phenomenally wealthy; he is simply tapping into the tribal zeitgeist.   Cowell knows damn well that regardless how good a singer is, he can depend on the predominantly white audience be it in America or the UK to choose a white contestant over a non-white any and every time.  This phenomenon precisely is why Jennifer Hudson did not win during the year that she appeared on American Idol.  There is a grudging need to bar, hamper and eclipse the non-white other, in favour of one’s own.  If this truly racialised paradigm existed in the 1960s, there would have been no Aretha Franklin, no Patti Labelle, Chaka Khan et al – simply too black.  Indeed, in this racialised caste system, the global paradigm does exist just as much as the current environmental collapse such that were Henry to have chosen a Chinese, East Indian or Jewish bride, though, there would have been pockets of disapproval, it would have been comparably muted at best and nowhere near the lynch mob intensity that animus towards Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex has become, thanks in large part to the orchestrated propaganda produced by racially predatory boors like Pierre-Karl Gorgon, Alanna Plattapuss and Vicereen Bianca of Trenchtown.  

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Of course, in all of this, they keep focussing on Meghan as they are so perplexed by the rumbling tectonics in the Cambridges’ marriage.  Recently at the revived King’s Cup Regatta 2019 at the Isle of Wight, there was Catherine being her steely warrior-spirited self.  After receiving her wooden spoon for placing last, the female who placed second along with William her husband, took to the stage and on receiving her champagne tried to get next to William and in a move that was pure warrior canny, Catherine shimmied with lightning ease into place and thereby blocked the woman from getting close to ‘her’ man.  Throughout their stay on the stage William made no mistake about telegraphing how utterly disinterested and fed up he is, having to be stuck with Catherine.  Naturally, none of this will ever be reported by the likes of Pierre-Karol Gorgon, Alanna Plattapuss, nor will there be another shrill blast from the pompous ass, Vicereen Bianca of Trenchtown herself (himself).  Every warrior is the dominant partner in any relationship and Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge is no exception that is why I am fully confident that she will fare better than Diana, Princess of Wales did; moreover, Diana an artisan was doing battle with her warrior partner, HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales. 

William is immensely innately arrogant for being a scholar and his astrological stellium and his attitude number of 9 are precisely why in the above clip, he does not bow to HM The Queen.  He sees himself as a Sovereign – as in all time is present; since he will be sovereign in the future, simultaneously he is sovereign in the past since birth and now.  William with an attitude of 9 is incapable of not holding grudges and he very likely regards both his father and paternal grandmother as having been complicit in his mother’s demise.  

William like every scholar incarnate will wander but he will always be miserable being with Catherine because she will suffer no Camilla, HRH Duchess of Cornwall – herself a scholar soul.   This is why though things got a little too chummy at Houghton Hall, it will only ever be whispered about; the chatelaine of Houghton Hall will never displace Catherine as future Princess of Wales.  Try coming between task companions and good luck with trying to displace that task companion, who happens to be a warrior – not happening.  

In the meantime, William will just have to merrily go roving along as is his scholarly and princely wont to find other prey.  Just as Melissa Percy had no intention of sharing either her man or her bed, so, too, strong-willed, warrior Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge will never be dislodged by another.  Thus Thomas van Straubenzee is on to marriage number two, which will no doubt leave William with continued full access to both his loyal public school special chum and Thomas’ blissfully unaware blonde walker.  

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Fascinatingly enough, as the days drift by after Jeffrey Epstein convenient expiration, there is a gnawing, burgeoning silence as that vile, toxic bigot remains conspicuously silent, News of the World vile snob and bigot, Gorgon.  Please dear god, let his name appear just once somewhere in association with Jeffrey Epstein,  The Trump-loving, nasty racist parasite… just one photograph; that is all it takes to have the tables turn on that fucking nez brun, snivelling twat, Pierre-Karol Gorgon.  These racial predators who use the print medium to race-bait as they know law number one being, familiarity breeds contempt.  Yes, indeed, every day multiple scathing articles against Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex.  

What more proof does one need that these gutter snipes are purely racially focussed in their agendum of attacking Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex?  Somehow, the very real spectre of paedophilia raises its can’t- shake head and not a peep out of these persons, who so claim to love their venerable institution, the Monarchy.  How or when pray tell has Meghan been a paedophile or when did she take funds from crass, foreign parvenu fare?  No indeed, not a single winded turn, grandstanding with faux indignation of Meghan being unsuitably common and a dark blemish on royalty that must not be suffered overlong.  

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Indeed, this is a civilisation where one does not have to think; you are simply groomed to form opinions on anything.  Naturally, it is a culture that prides itself on being negative; one sees being negative as a good thing.  After 60 years of television, the same negative, readily racially predatory animus towards blacks had a new outlet in being able to comment, anonymously no less, on the internet – just as one has done for 7 decades in the privacy of one’s home when looking at television.  With Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex, we have reached a new plateau in mob rule… Indeed, it is a new form of lynching wherein Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex has become surrounded by a forest of burning crosses as these non-blacks in their lust for blood and addiction to hate have never been more ecstatic.  And everyone of these people will let you know that it has nothing to do with race and they all, for one being black, have to mention out of the blue how, they can’t stand or they just hate that Meghan. 

Who has time for anything but apathy when seeing Notre Dame Cathedral ablaze indeed.  Enough of giving a damn; no more of this Pray for Paris fare on social media… just not worth it.  The week following the Jeffrey Epstein suicide, homicide – you decide – old Gorgon goes into hiding and is conveniently on a break – goodness knows, unless he is in hibernation en route to Mars, there is no reason why News of the World potty-mouth should not be foaming at the mouth about unroyal-like conduct.  Alas, there is more acrimony against the Sussexes, while the Cambridge’s privately jet to Mustique and they to Spain, though, the Sussex’s trip is less taxing on the environment, the Sussexes are labelled eco-hypocrites.  

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Then to top off the week, new polling numbers show that Catherine is now more popular than Meghan and even Harry, thanks to Meghan’s negative impact has slipped in popularity.  Well guess what Einsteins, Diana Krall was more popular than Natalie Cole, Shirley Horn, Nancy Wilson and Betty Carter combined.  Simply put, tribalism is more pronounced with Caucasians than any other group.  They will ever hate, hiss and boo Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex in the United Kingdom; indeed, no predominantly non-black Commonwealth nation has yet extended the Sussexes an invitation, though, HM The Queen, appointed them Commonwealth Youth Ambassadors – a title which was largely due in part because HRH Prince William, Duke of Cambridge has yet to tour any predominantly black Commonwealth nation and with an attitude number of 9, numerologically, nothing would get him to budge on touring such countries.  Naturally, with the marriage of Henry & Meghan, though, he has previously toured those countries, predominently non-white, non-black Commonwealth Singapore and Malaysia have invited the Cambridges to tour autumn 2019, in an obvious move to show their disfavour at Henry having married the black woman.  

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What would move Elton John to make this impassioned post to his Instagram account about the racially predatory abuse that TRH Duke & Duchess of Sussex are being subjected to?  Elton John like model, Lauren Hutton, James Middleton, Madonna and every gap-toothed adult Caucasian was in his immediate past life black.  Not surprisingly, Elton was the only non-black on the AIDS charity anthem of 1985, That’s What Friends Are For.  The abuse has gone way beyond the line and one can no longer idly stand by and say nothing.  

There she is Madonna and if ever one needed validation that this is someone who is completely at ease and accepting of blacks’ humanity, you need no further proof.  There are people the world over, not least Hollywood, who would find it extremely uncomfortable being in the same room as someone black.  Madonna’s extended family and the love between her and David Banda as well as all her other children is all the validation one needs that in her immediate past life she was Bessie Smith and prior to that, a few lifetimes before, 17th century Italian composer, Claudio Monteverdi.  

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“Race is everything and yet it is nothing…” a phrase Merlin often repeated during our seven years together at the incidences of racism which he witnessed for being my lover.  Naturally, Canada has yet to invite the Sussexes on a tour – though, one can hardly be surprised at that.  70 million Britons may hate Meghan’s guts but there are close to a billion blacks in the Commonwealth for whom the Sussexes will always matter.  Meanwhile, there were no body language experts waxing overlong about William’s aloofness at the King’s Cup Regatta.  The fact that Gorgon, Bianca et al are not writing about the obvious problems in the Cambridges’ marriage does not mean that it does not exist.  Goodness, they have just spent a whole week in the 24/7 news cycle of 21st century online news media, making positively no mention of Jeff Epstein and the troubling connections that the Earl Porchester clearly had with the conveniently deceased paedophile whose autopsy showed from the broken neck vertebrae that he was a likely murder rather than suicide.  

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150 years hence, historians will look back at the Cambridge’s marriage and point to whatever drama unfolds between now and then and point to their rowing en route to Buckingham Palace from Westminster Abbey and Catherine’s rude dismissal of William whilst they stood on the balcony being celebrated and William’s fate was being sealed.  Who cares how adored you are by outsiders, being trapped in a miserable marriage must be sheer hell.  No need to gloat about how more popular Catherine is than Meghan, which would not be the case had Henry married blonde Chelsy Davy or Cressida Bonas.  Indeed, if Henry had married a Chinese, East Indian or Jew, though, there would doubtless be resentment, it would by no means be so rabid and unrelentingly feral. 

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The fact remains, when and where it matters most, it is a public role and all the scathing, derogatory, race-baiting articles notwithstanding, Meghan’s commanding performance at the 2018 British Fashion Awards was a salvo which illustrated why she has more star power than Catherine and no amount of hatred is going to change that.  It has been cruel to watch how Catherine is being jousted to get out there and suddenly make speeches. 

God lord, the poor woman is not then and never will be in her element; she is glorious at being Catherine, future Queen Consort, sporty and ever steely but being speech-giver is no forte of hers – never has been, never will be.  The sad thing about Meghan’s speech at the 2018 British Fashion Awards is that it has been heavily edited and only now carried by the Royal Family’s YouTube channel.  It is almost as if, Meghan cannot to be seen to be outshining Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge; moreover, I think that palace mandarins may have deemed Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex’s speech too political. 

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One should never forget the song which the Kingdom Choir sung as the newly wedded TRH Duke & Duchess of Sussex departed St. George’s Chapel Windsor Castle, This Little Light of Mine.  No amount of racial animus or hatred will ever be able to eclipse the light of the soul which, when previously incarnate, was the Tudor Matriarch, Queen Mother to Henry VII, grandmother and favourite adviser to Henry VIII and great-grandmother to HM Queen Elizabeth I.  

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Good god!  Talk about true hypocrisy!  Where in the hell are Vicereen Bianca of Trenchtown and that louche bigot whose unsavoury deeds precipitated News of the World’s demise, Pierre-Karol Gorgon?  That’s right, not a peep out of them.  This is the same royalty that they have been defending against the likes of the descendant of enslaved Africa and a hustler to boot, being deemed not fit to be royal.  Imagine that, the black woman excoriated with coded language like hustler well at least she is not a blasted paedophile!  There is damn value in Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex being welcome as she was by HM The Queen and her gracious father-in-law, HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales, she is articulate, intelligent, strong-willed and has commanding stage presence; she is indeed the beau idéal when one wants to address and engage the Commonwealth, which is predominantly brown and black.  

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Well at long last Pierre-Karol Gorgon has come out of hiding!  What does the no-balled fucker do, he blithely goes back to excoriating TRH Duke & Duchess of Sussex and pretending as though the biggest story in the House of Windsor has not reared its ugly head yet again.  Yes, clueless, dickless one, keep caterwauling like the true castrato that you are but ignoring the elephant in the room, does not make it go away.  There you go, karma has served up Epstein’s corpse go on carrion, no need to be bashful, go ahead and start feasting on the real story to be writing about and growing incandescent with rage.  Fucking no-balled racial predator, you try convincing the rest of us that Meghan is not royal enough and your animus is not in the least rooted in racial hatred.  

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Your racial animus towards HRH Prince Henry, Duke of Sussex for having married the black woman notwithstanding, do be very careful what you wish for.  All this talk about: I cannot support this royal family anymore, they are nothing but hypocrites, nothing but scroungers. as soon as HM The Queen dies we need a referendum on the monarchy; we need to become a republic.  In case you have not noticed, your marvellous empire Britannia is no longer a realm of white tribal homogeneity.  Within your midst are persons who will never assimilate and within a generation of having declared a republic, you will end up with a succession of presidents, who will not look like you and who will want their religious laws, and get their religious laws become the law of the land.  These presidents will have been groomed from birth to perceive you as the enemy who must be vanquished… go on keep being blinded by hatred of the black woman and see where it gets you.  

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But enough about bothering with blasted racial predators, who as karma would have it, has backhanded them good and hard with Jeffrey Epstein’s convenient, though by no means ended, demise.  Now the drama royal, truly gets underway in coming months.  Go on, likkle jagabat, let’s see your cocksucker mouth gag with indignation, feigned or otherwise, about the bold audacity to have mere paedophiles in one’s regal realm.  Go on, we know you can’t afford to go grouse-hunting, time to eat crow… blasted fraud.  

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In the meantime, I have pre-ordered my very own copy of Master Andrew Lownie’s deliciously indulgent exposé about one of my favourite rats, Earl Louis Mountbatten… Oh Louella darling, clutch your pearls, lick your lips, it’s going to prove a true bibliophilic gourmand’s wet dream… and infinitely better fare than that trifling garbage that ought rightly to have been pulped!  I cannot wait to read this book!  When Merlin was first hospitalised with full-blown AIDS, at Toronto’s St. Michael’s Hospital in January 1988, he began ferociously re-reading every book that had brought him the greatest pleasure; this is someone who concluded reading a book each day.  One of the books he shared with me as he knew what books I most loved, was this wonderful book about Mahatma Gandhi’s life; of course, one of the first films we saw together was Gandhi at the Ziegfeld in Midtown Manhattan way after midnight, after we had been to dinner, fucked like rottweilers then headed off into the night, holding hands – a thing which back in 1982, you most definitely could not then have done in Toronto, and saw a film that moved us to tears.  There within the covers of that biography, I discovered the most ravishingly fascinating couple, Louis & Edwina Mountbatten.  Now, there was a true vicereen!  

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