Will you just look at that, the Enola Gay’s cargo bay doors have opened! Incoming! This calls for a Fortnum & Mason hamper; this is serious tea!
Numerologically, these are the numbers for SPARE & HRH Prince Henry’s war with the Windsors. 10. 01. 2023 Tiger 1. 2. 9 = 3. The first royal memoir by a royal rather than a kiss-me-ass royal biography by one of these blasted sycophants who could never, unlike Harry’s memoir, have their specious drivel simultaneously launch in 16 languages.
1, energy body, this is a warrior soul with a score to settle. He is going to, like every mature soul and warrior soul, wage a campaign that is all about restoring his honour. Now that The Queen and his and Meghan’s entity mate has departed, he will feel positively no qualms about producing the receipts. 1 is in your face and brutally raw and uncompromisingly truthful. Like me, Henry has an attitude of scepticism; we are blunt, upfront, confrontational and will be unrelentingly vituperative at the drop of a hat. Harry is into this to protect his family and that means, defending his wife who was racially attacked by HRH Princess Michael of Kent with her unbelievable bold racially predatory, offensive blackamoor brooch worn for all the world’s media to see to The Queen’s 2017 Christmas lunch at Buckingham Palace.
Mind of 2. This is someone that has much to say and will be most indefatigable in prosecuting his case! Not the least bit surprised should be anyone that Henry’s memoir runs past 400 pages. Also, a book that’s dropping on a day when the mind ruling it is two, this means that it is ruled by all that is rapid fire, quicksilver, brilliant. Most of all two is associated with artisan souls and there is no soul more nimble, strategic and clever than an artisan. Artisans input on 5 channels. Meghan is an artisan soul as was Diana, Princess of Wales. You will never win in a campaign against the intellect of an artisan. We may seems spacy but long before we head off to do battle, we have gone through plans A through Z where mere mortals simply will vet from plan A to D at most. Artisans are complex and are always misjudged, illegible.
Slaves and priest souls input on two channels. That would be the late Queen. The fact that she had seven in the second/mind position means that she read people with uncanny accuracy. Also, The Queen could see auras, the dead and all that beyond-the-veil arcana but she would never disclose this to any one save lifelong ladies-in-waiting and only a few of these persons. Warriors, Kings and Scholars input on one channel, this can leave such souls as coming off at times as thick but they are superior strategists and also more than passingly confrontational. Prince George is a King soul, which is most rare. Catherine, HM King Charles III, Prince Philip and Prince Henry are all warrior souls and all mature souls. I suspect that HRH Princess Anne Princess Royal may also be a warrior soul. Both William and Camilla, Queen Consort are scholar souls – I cannot stress enough how utterly arrogant and stubborn such persons can prove. Artisans are paired with Sage souls on the expression axis; however, sages input on three channels. This greatly facilitates live performance artists being able to channel through the creator’s vision by speech, song or dance. Creative artists are more often than not artisan souls; however, Pablo Picasso was a seventh young soul warrior.
Life path of 9, Harry’s memoir’s will be a campaign of high flying ideals and righting injustices, whether it is his mother, Diana, Princess of Wales’s murder or his wife, Meghan, Duchess of Sussex’s lynching as the most hated Black woman in history. Henry will be unsparing in defence of his high ideals. Lastly, with a destiny of 3, the number which rules media, publishing and the written word, quite remarkably, Henry’s memoir will go down to be just as revolutionary as HM King Henry VIII creating the Church of England rather than being at the mercy of the Church of Rome. Henry’s memoir is going to, for the first time, cause the public to turn on the tabloid media which has been predatorily harvesting off the royals and no single royal earns the tabloids more money than his wife, Meghan, Duchess of Sussex. They make billions in inciting anti-Black racism towards Meghan and at no time do any of these entities, tabloids and alleged royal experts ever mention the racism to which Meghan was subjected. If you think for one nanosecond that HRH Princess Michael of Kent’s blackamoor brooch incident was a singular, isolated incident then you truly believe that that blasted anti-Semitic idiot actually walked on water rather than on a Plexiglas runway an inch below the lake’s surface.
This campaign is masterful. No royals. No alleged royal experts, no tabloids. No one, all of whom are the Sussexes’ detractors, and sworn enemies as that vile Jewish anti-Black racist, Tom Bower recently admitted, “It’s Meghan I’m after!” know what Harry delivers in his memoir ahead of the general public. SPARE will callously lay bare the hideous underpinnings of the British monarchy: tabloids, courtiers, household staffers, royals and their need to prey on others whilst turning a blind eye to the antics of other royals. Cutting the Sussexes loose after the contents of Harry’s memoir become global headline news, will only further expose their duplicity. The tabloids will be exposed for what they are: the trolling, lynching, race-baiting agents of the BRF.
Here’s to the Sussexes as they go forward from strength to strength. After SPARE, let’s hope the British tabloids would stay in their provincial backwaters and focus their attention on the real tea, as there is no “there” there for them to truthfully report on with regards the Montecito ducal family. Go on, report on Catherine and Sir Ben Ainslie and could little Damian be their love child as William has his own love child with the Chatelaine of Houghton Hall. And what of Charles and his teddsie wedsie, what does he suck on when cuddling with his teddy whilst Camilla broods at Ray Mill and his equerry keeps him stiff with drink, warmth and jousting that stirs the birds in the topiary close by. Indeed, who pegs whom and is it reciprocated… now no longer at Anmer Hall clearly it continues but definitely not at Adelaide Cottage. Think of the billions you could be making for merely telling the truth rather than inciting anti-Black racism as you have fiendishly engaged the past six years of lynching season. For everything there is a season and sooner or later the truth reigns above it all.
Continued success to Meghan, Duchess of Sussex on her Spotify podcast, Archetypes. It is a beautiful exposition of a superior intellect. Too, congratulations on the nomination at this year’s People’s Choice Awards.
Never mind Q’uoontifah & that lost anti-Semitic idiot, I damn well love being Black every moment whether lucidly awake in dreams or when awake!
As ever, Life is like a flying dream; if you look down, you’re fucked. Enjoy the ride and fear no one!
These utterly stunning dream experiences occurred on Thursday, February 16, 1989, whilst the Moon transited both Cancer and my second house.
I was on a street and just beyond the other side of the street was the edge of a cliff; it looked down into a distant valley. It was very sunny out. I was seated in front of a house.On my right was a man who had come home from work in a car. He looked very Italian except that he seemed to be very hirsute – as though he had quite dark skin.However, on closer inspection, he turned out to be rather hirsute. A little later on, he came outside again. His neighbours were looking at him, kind of strangely, like they weren’t already accustomed to looking or reacting to him in a strange manner.
He sat down next to me outside, on the neighbouring bench to my right, both of us with backs to the neighbours. He turned and looked at me and his face was rather ape-like.It was the colour black and his hair was quite different. This man had a long widow’s peak and his face was literally the colour black. It was quite ape-like. He said nothing. More than that, he seemed rather friendly and nice.Along that street, there were kids when a car had pulled up. They were very teenage kids – all boys. A boy came out further along and returned to join one of his companions.
Then it turned out that his companion was in a car that was black and seemed to move, as it were, on air-cushioned rubber wheels. This black car of his was rather aerodynamic.After his friend took off, he then – this is the little blond timid guy – went over towards the cliff. Directly in front of the hirsute ape-like man, who was seated to my right, the blond guy went into the bushes.The young guy turned out to have been his brother – that guy who looked like a twin of his or resembled a brother. They hung out together and then he went moving on.
As he passed me, going from right to left, a friend of his was coming down the road. The road had a curve in it and went steeply up a hill. The hill, in fact, looked like the hill at Toronto’s Prospect Cemetery on the south side of Kitchener Street. His friend came down and he was wearing a helmet because he had been on some sort of vehicle. He removed the helmet, carrying it in his right hand, as they greeted each other.Strangely, they greeted by grabbing each other around the hips and rubbed their crotches together, joked and laughed. In essence, they engaged in clothed frottage.
I thought it interesting that two males would engage in open sexual play, however, this seemed the natural standard way of greeting in this culture. Clearly, this was a sign that this was not exactly Kansas.I had the distinct impression that the twin blonds had gone into the gorge to do drugs. As they were blissing out, only the crown of their golden mops was visible.They were using the very intense lushness of the rolling hills, in the valley way below, as a stimulant. Everything here was so pronouncedly healthy, even the star that shined seemed more intense and pure than Sol.I carefully looked at some of the trees and realised that they were bonsai, furry, mossy centuries-old plants that seemed to hum at a frequency higher than their arboreal counterparts on Earth.
I was able to zoom into the plants in the valley way below and experience them in intimate close-up. Of course, this I accomplished whilst remaining seated on the bench where to my right on another sat the über-poilu, intensely warm, handsome ape-like man.The helmet was the same black, light, metal-plastic alloy material as the car. It seemed to have the ability to absorb the intense sunlight, which was not scorching, and cool the interior.The blond who greeted his Italian-looking helmeted friend – they were all, incidentally, the same hirsute ape-like stock as the jet-black man seated to my right – had patted the car as he moved around its rear into the road to meet his dark-haired friend.He had patted the car much like one would a trusted horse. At that, the car had hissed and lurched to the road from its hovering stationary position a foot off the ground.
Later on, in the second dream, I was still on the same street. There were all these little kids. They were on skateboards. They came down about four, five, six, of them – little guys. One of them was Black. He was quite light-skinned. They were from a high social class. They were very friendly and nice and I warmly interacted with them.However, they were quite reserved and it wasn’t as though they weren’t friendly. As I was a stranger, for that reason, they kept me at bay.On the lower part of the street, where I was with them, it was clearly a cemetery. As far as cemeteries go, it was quite different an arrangement. It had quite large tombstones in it – monuments.
There was one woman there in black who was seemingly Italian. She was carrying on; she was grieving by this one monument. It had on it a very interesting design and some of the graves were fresh.I explained to them, the little boys, that this was where one went. However, then one came back from there and was able to live a life again like they were now living.I explained to them in those terms, however, I did not force them to look at funerals. People’s focus on funerals as the end and fear of death was the trap, I explained to them.
In this the third dream, I was under these hugely tall trees and was working at the time. Clearly, I had been working for someone like Pete Wilkens or someone like him.I had left a shovel around. The shovel had been left about and from a long, long time ago. This was on the grounds of a park-like setting where there were lots of skeletons about. The skeletons were covered with a whole bunch of ants. It was strange because it seemed as though the bones were the remnants of lunch and had just been eaten.They seemed like the skeletons for fish except that the head bone of the fish – skull – was quite flat.
The head had three sides to it and the skeleton was again a narrow filament that had two identical spines that trailed the unusual-looking skull.The skeletons were quite white and were flexible like the white cartilage of a chicken breast. There was a bunch of ants all over them.I might also add that these flexible, double-spined, fish-like skeletons were covered with ants that were quite feathery and lumpy. These ants were almost like miniature tarantulas because they were so bulky, dark, rich and, in a way, nice to look at.
There was a shovel sitting about and I realised that I had left it there, when I worked last time which was some time ago, last season. However, nobody had actually moved it because it meant that it was my responsibility to have moved it.So I ended up moving a couple of rakes – they were, in fact, more like pole saws. When trying to clear the space, I took them from one area to the next.I must say that I was quite struck by the face of that particular man that I did see, whilst he sat on the neighbouring bench to my right, in the initial dream. Even here in another dream entirely, I kept seeing him in my mind’s eye.
The fourth dream found me going back to an apartment where Merlin and I were living together. There were ants all about the apartment.I told him,“You have to get out and go away for a while so I can clean away the ants.”I then went about disinfecting the place and got rid of the ants. I was even disinfecting beneath the floorboards… everywhere.Owing to his being full-blown with AIDS, I did not want Merlin being exposed to the harmful chemicals in the disinfectants. That, certainly, could have resulted in horrific consequences on his vastly compromised immune system.
With the fifth dream, I was in a large department store. There, I saw Isis da Braga who was there to buy a scarf. At the time, I was with two males; it was a Gay situation.Owen Hawksmoor was talking to someone who had a very large nose. The man to whom Owen spoke was Black. He seemed like we vaguely knew each other. He seemed, in fact, like Don Baxter.However, the face on this man was black and had hues of red in it. Not the colour black but as Black people look. More than that, such that it looked like the nose of an animal’s would like an aardvark or some such, the nose on this man was more like a snout.He wore white; both he and Owen did. There was some function, that one had to go to, for which Owen had complimentary tickets.
These two people, whom Owen and I had encountered, were saying that they did not know where their complimentary tickets were. I said that I knew I had mine. Anyway, Owen left them and went back up a flight of steps.It was quite light out, up the staircase, as though there was a skylight hung high overhead. Owen moved on and I went in search of Isis who had passed by. She was quite embarrassed, in fact, at seeing me with my arm about a Gay person.She went in and picked up a scarf and the scarf was worth 52$, I think, because she was putting down the balance of the money – the other half – 26$. She was there shopping.It was a black scarf and it had beautiful… the borders were red and green designs. It really was quite nice. I came and leaned on the counter and said hello to my sister.
She was reserved, cool and detached. She turned to me and was beautifully made up and looked very young with beautiful, flawless, flawless skin.She spoke about the fact that she did not go shopping with me anymore. She insisted that my accusation that she did not go shopping with me anymore because I was with men was not true.She was wearing a beautiful mustard-coloured jacket and a scarf about her neck. Indeed, she was quite well-off.
*The thing about these unusually droopy noses is that they looked as though this was a race of extra-humans (extra-terrestrials) which had evolved from simian mammals who were descended from proboscis monkey stock rather than not. It is a race of primates native to Borneo and the faces of those simians are rather human.This is how this man and others in this dream would appear. However, it was more than that look. END.
In the sixth dream, I was in an office that was like an indoor greenhouse. If you like, it was a mausoleum rather than greenhouse. It was sky-lit and there were a lot of caskets about. Some of them had flowers and some of them did not.When you came in, you went down some stairs and into a more open area. There you saw a burial crypt. It was an indoor burial crypt. There was a man about as well as a grand piano.Whenever the employees of the place came in, there was a woman standing about and she would excitedly say,“We have to go out, we have to go out.”I was with those little children, from the earlier dream, who were skateboarding and whom I had instructed earlier about the whole idea of reincarnation. These children were mostly White. We were also being hustled out of the place.
The woman then said,“What is he doing? There is not another service. Why is he trying to start up that piano?”The man at the piano was large and bent over and he looked somewhat out of place being there. Before we could be ushered out of the place, I managed to run up and put some flowers – some yellow flowers, on one of the brown caskets that was there.
*He was inordinately tall and hence drooped over a lot. Whilst seated at the grand piano, his towering height made it look as though an adult seated at a dollhouse piano. Too, he was inordinately pale… END.
As we were going out, the procession was coming in and people were being hustled in. It was quite a fast procession. I stuck around and tried to see the place and see why there was so much hustling.There and then, it turned out that I saw the casket. It was very flat and plain and I thought,‘Well why is it being hustled out? If it’s a funeral why would the relations be so ecstatic?’However, it turned out that because the burial box was so flat I thought it was going to be cremated. It turned out, however, that it was for the office. There was going to be a surprise party.
It was actually a cake. It was covered up in wonderful, colourful wrapping paper. There was going to be a celebration and those were all the workers from the company. The atmosphere was quite nice and friendly.
In this the seventh dream, I was in a very, very large and busy restaurant where I ordered myself a bowl of soup. I was going to go upstairs to the bathroom but I had my bowl of soup in my hand.It was very Gothic-styled. It seemed, in fact, like the inside of a château. It was in the Gothic style except that the walls were rose granite – rose-coloured granite. It was, however, rather smooth-surfaced.I then accidentally spilled my bowl of soup. The waitress who had come to my aid was dark-haired – short, dark hair. She looked like a dancer who danced with the Winnipeg Contemporary Dancers when I was living in Winnipeg – the one who was Lebanese and had had a back injury.
Anyway, this waitress went off and I was waiting there being quite embarrassed. I was trying to rush to the toilet. I asked someone where the toilet was and they said,“No, no, not upstairs.”It turned out that the washrooms were, in fact, to the rear. So off I went to the bathroom and I was quite embarrassed. I tidied up myself and I came back out and my white cotton pants – nice, beautiful trousers; they were baggy but they came in tight and folded in a pleat at the end at the hem – were quite stained by the soup.It was a dark sort of pea soup. A dark brownish fare, like a lentil soup, it was. However, it was not like a lentil soup because it was red.
I was trying to ask this man to move, in order to get by him, en route to the washrooms. There was a couple behind a man and they were very lovey-dovey.The man had to ask them to get up to let me get to the bathroom. He did not want to get up or anything like that but he finally realised he had to get up. So he basically moved and he was quite unusually blond.Everybody in this place was very unusual-looking. They had extraordinary features about them. They were excessively good-looking but they had an outstanding feature that made them seem Thothesque.Again, noses here were very long, droopy and bent over. Their noses were almost beaklike in that sense. That was the extraordinary thing about that jet-black skinned man, in the initial dream, as well as this blond man who had the same feature.
These persons were all exceptionally tall. They were each on the other side of seven-plus feet. Also, they were so über-poilu, it made it look like they were either jet-black when Black or yellow-white for being blond.Finally, he did move and when I was leaving, I looked at him. He was looking down at me because I was out of sorts, out of place, being there. Standing before him, he really did tower over me.Clearly, these persons were EHs – extra-humans or ETs.Another person had come by and tidied me up. He busily got me back to where I was seated. Then he had mumbled something like, “Why don’t you get out of here real fast?”
So I went out into the vestibule and I was waiting and waiting for the waitress to come by because I wanted to pay her for my bowl of soup. I think it was going to be $3 or something like that.Isis just said,“Why don’t we just get out of here?”We were waiting out front and it was busy so I finally got out. However, I was arguing and said,“That’s not the point of it.” I strongly felt that I should be paying my way. So I thought to just go back and put down my money on a table somewhere – I would feel better.However, I did finally leave, after having been more or less harassed by Isis without having paid. She was asking, “If you can save the money, why not save it?” that was her attitude.
When we were leaving there was a tall, enormously tall, man. He was White. Again, he had the same beaklike nose and there was something about his face that I found immediately sexual. His face was intensely sexualised.I was going to indulge and not leave because I so wanted to explore this man. However, Isis hustled me out of there.
Dream eight found me in the streets. I was walking with a baby – a little Black baby who was light-skinned. I carried the baby on my shoulders.It was rather nice. This time, out on the street, it was dark out and it was night time. This place we went to, that was quite busy, was bustling with lots of wonderful, wonderful people. It was very cosmopolitan here. A brief dream it was too.
I next found myself in a ninth dream experience that had a great deal of uproar and tumult to it. There were figures in black who were part of some sort of religious sect. These persons were just alarmingly fanatical.They were terrorists and they wore black. They had some sort of insignia on their bodies. As a matter of fact, they were looking for me; there was no mistaking that fact.I was in what would be Catherine Angelica Montpelier’s yard. I was trying to hide out there. There were, somehow, attempts to get me out.Then there was this truck which the people who were like security guards used. I was told where to find them and where they weren’t.
So I went into this yard and it seemed like part of Catherine Angelica Montpelier’s property and the neighbourhood in Crab Hill, Sandy Point, St. Kitts. However, it was differently set up here.There was an Indian-looking girl – Amerindian-looking and not Dravidian. She, too, had a beaklike nose and I tried to explain to her,“Well look, you know I’m being pursued…”
“Oh yes!” further, she made reference to the fact, “Oh yes, you’re the one who killed Bob… or somebody.”Up on the roof was like Bob’s brother, whoever Bob was, but it wasn’t a name that I recognised. His name was Bob, however; it was Patrice Wellesley, of all people, who was keeping a lookout.He was supposed to notify the guard-like people. I intuitively knew that on the far side of the wall, of the place where I was hiding out, was a guy and a girl. She had very long black hair and was quite militant. They were looking out for me and talking.
I was telling the Amerindian-looking girl with the Thothesque nose, who was talking to me and dropping pieces of information, to just shut up and calm down, “You don’t need to say everything and carry on and on.”However, she still kept on blabbing away.I then managed to go around the side of the house. She was with her sister and they were playing some sort of game. So I thought to actually go around, to the front of the house, to ask her who her sister was.I then went around to the front of the house and there was her sister who seemed like Diana Nottingham – with whom I modelled at OCAD and did that pose with her at OCAD that Olaf Nordstrom had painted.
Anyway, she was quite wonderfully made up in whiteface. As though she were a Kabuki actor/actress, she wore white pancake makeup. She was, in fact, an actress. She was waiting to go on and perform a role of hers.It was quite interesting because she was, in fact, filling me in on what was going on,“In point of fact Arvin, you know, basically someone died because in self-defence in a rumble with them… it was just a lazy man about town, an idler and a drifter.”He apparently ended up dying because, during some sort of attack on me, as I was defending myself he was accidentally killed. As a result, I was on the run and there was a plot – the militant group was out to get me.
She told me that what I could do was go behind the Methodist Church in Crab Hill, Sandy Point, St. Kitts. The place, however, was set out as if a mélange of Crab Hill, Sandy Point, St. Kitts and elsewhere.So she told me to go across the railroad tracks. On coming around, I would be able to come home free to my home in Crab Hill. However, she pointed out that all along the route there were the same guards – militant fanatics.However, I just had to play it safe. She confidently assured me that they could be headed off. I was grateful for her advice and took her directives to heart.Well, low and behold, the girl – the militant sibling – came around the yard and caught me. When she caught me, I fled in escape. I went and hid behind the wall.I am not referring to Diana or one of the two sisters who had been around the backyard but there were two other sisters. These other two sisters were part of the militant group that was on the hunt for me.
The girl pulled out a weapon and it had a little blade on it. It was quite deadly and I kept hiding myself trying to extricate myself out of the place. I did so by holding up one of the sisters, in front of me, as a hostage.Someone got spliced in the left hand. I don’t recall that it was me or if it was me, I simply did not feel any pain when attacked. The vicious-looking wound had self-healed right away. I had focussed my light energies on the wound and caused it to instantaneously self-heal.Anyway, I was able to push the sister onto them. I then made my way around to the back of the house. By this time, the brother was coming around the house from the other direction.
When I say I went around to the back of the house, it was where I had originally encountered the two militant sisters. By that point, she had already called for help from the guardsman. He was somewhat ecstatic as he came around. However, this was my chance to flee. So I climbed over the fence and immediately there was a lot of plastic on and all over everything. When I climbed over the wall it was, clearly, what in the waking state would be the very back end of the Methodist Church estate.It was covered with a heavy plastic and there was a lot of wood. There was scaffolding everywhere. I climbed along the wood and the sister – the white-faced, actor of the two sisters – had told me that I could get immunity by saying that I was coming to work on the grounds or some such.
Next, I crawled along the scaffolding and looked to my left. However, this being a dream, it had semblances to being Sandy Point but it wasn’t really Sandy Point either.I realised that there were apartments, tiny apartments, which were glass-enclosed. They were all quite in disarray. People lived there but nobody seemed to be home.Here I was trying to make my escape and if anybody had seen me, of course, I would be squealed on. Then I finally jumped down, out of the ceiling-like area, because there were crates and boxes and a straw-stuffed bed under me directly below the window.I came down to an open area and there I saw a much darker version of Artemis da Braga, my niece. She was sitting wrapped with a telephone cord about her as she played with the phone.I greeted her but I did not want to get her excited because I wanted to flee the area.
Next, in dream ten, I came out of this beautiful house and came out into a wonderful backyard. Immediately, whilst there, I saw another of those vans. There had also been a van in the earlier dream that showed how these people, the militant people, worked.They had a van and it had another little van on the inside when it opened up claw-like. It appeared that the top and the bottom, the back rather, could open up. Inside it revealed another vehicle that was covered in a brownish greasy goop. The most interesting feature of this entire affair was that, although they looked human enough, the militiamen were not human. They were extra-human. So too was the machine which, from its goopy fluids, was sentient.It was an EH species which they were using to capture and feed one to. It seemed that the machine-like EHs were, in fact, in control of the militia-type EHs rather than the reverse.
It seemed more creature than a vehicle and, somehow, this was what I was supposed to be put in when captured. These two Black men, who were guarding the house and who let me know that they were guarding the house, were saying,“Aha! Now we’ve caught you.”You know, I thought about it and there was just no way that I was going to let them capture me.‘I’ve got to get away,’ I thought.At the time, one of them was taking a pee – both these men were Black. They were quite casual about having caught me. They apparently were going to get their supervisor who would take care of me.
The supervisor came and he looked like the guy from Trinidad who had worked as a chef at the Underground Railroad Restaurant when, long ago, I worked there. He did, at least, seem like that man.This man, who was their supervisor, was also Black. He had the semblance, the air about him, of that chef but he did not so much look a great deal like him. He was rotund and fairly light-complected.He lived in the house. Rather, he did not live in the house but he was staying in the house as a caretaker. I thought,‘I’m not going to be captured. I’m not going to be caught. I can disguise myself.’
I immediately started accelerating my energies and, as a result, I was able to transform myself. As I upped my frequency, I heard an increase in the universal hum.I looked down at the backs of both my outstretched hands, keenly observing the intense sunlight react to my skin in a glowing sizzling manner, until my aura intensified and became visible about my body.My aura’s light grew brighter as my skin actually glowed with increasing intensity. It continued until the skin, throughout my entire body, was indistinguishable from the rest of the intense morning sunlight. When they went down the hill and came back with the guy, I was standing there right in front of the house. It was this particular, large wooden house.
It wasn’t large, for being a bungalow, but the door was large. This house was definitely not part of the landscape in Sandy Point, St. Kitts. As I looked on, the guards came bearing the portly gentleman.I was aware from the way he – the supervisor, Zen sage – was talking that he was aware that I was there. Perhaps, he could see me but the other two – the militant guardsmen – couldn’t see me.I realised what I had done: I had made myself light so that I blended in with the landscape and couldn’t be seen. I had rendered myself invisible!
I then decided that I could further transform myself. Next, I made myself into this little white piece of what seemed like string. However, it was more like nylon. It was like shiny waxed dental floss.Such that half way there was a loop in it, it was tied in a knot. It was doubled on itself so that it was, I would guess, three to five inches long at the most.I obviously was astrally projected to another world where, rather lucidly, I was dreaming and interacting with extra-humans. The dental floss-like string was the cord of light which keeps one’s astral body connected, to the waking state body, when astral-projected during sleep.
Immediately, the caretaker guy took the cord – the wax-like cord – which was my transformed-dreamer self in his hand. It was my astral body’s cord which was left rendered visible whilst I remained invisible.He began giving the two guardsmen a walk-through of the house in which only he should have been. It was a house that was no longer lived in. It was wooden all about and very organic.It was a house that allowed for natural light to pour in. There was a skylight. The house was low in the sense that it was dug in. The house was built such that it was somewhat half-buried below the surface. In that way, it was kept cool because it was partly below-ground. All about, on either side, as you walked in every part of this beautiful, sprawling bungalow were every manner of cactus.
These were cacti that were shaped like trees that had leaves. Absolutely stunning and incredible, they enlivened the house throughout.He gave me a tour of the place with the two guardsmen, who could not see me, in tow. As he walked them back to the front door he said,“So you see, he really couldn’t be here. You go off and look for him.”He tossed me or what was my representation – the wax-looking string or my astral body’s umbilical-like cord of light – from his right hand sending it through a doorway of the house. He then went about his business and showed them to the door and got rid of them.At this point, I rematerialised back to my regular dreamer self in this dream and I was able to let on to him that I knew that he knew of my being invisible. So I called him, on another phone in the house, and I remained absolutely silent.I then telepathically shared my thoughts with him. I inferred that I knew that he was aware that I was present in the house though invisible to most. Of course, he knew that I was there but he was just not going to acknowledge my being friendly with him.The fact is that he knew that I was in trouble. He was just trying, out of the goodness of his heart, to help me out. However, he wasn’t going to befriend me or anything like that.
So anyway, on my own I began exploring this beautiful, beautiful labyrinth-like bungalow. The walls of it were wooden. It was a reddish wood like redwoods normally look. It had a shiny hue to it because it was polished.I was talking about it to someone, later on in the dream, and it was in fact the same guy – the caretaker – who had accompanied me at one point. I said it seemed like it was built by Frank Lloyd Wright and he said,“No. Not really…”It seemed like it but it was a different style altogether; however, it was more or less like Frank Lloyd Wright. Seriously though, it was a totally different style.So I went about exploring the place. I went in this one room that was clearly a bedroom. I opened the door and went in – it was a glass door. I went in and on the left were shelves.
There were tiny, tiny, little cacti in pots and some of them were large and some of them were blooming. They were heliotropically craning over to one side.This place had been abandoned for quite some time. However, all the cacti in the place had managed to grow quite large. They were big, bulbous, beautiful and wonderfully lifelike.The spread to the bed was turned down and discarded. It had been left just as when last used by the owner. There was a bulldog; it was not a live one but a statue of a bulldog.This person had a great deal of style and was quite successful. I realised that the owner, the former occupant, was Black. I saw the face and I can’t say that I can recall the face but, somehow, I got the impression that the face was a face of mine if you like.
It was interesting because when I saw the face that is basically the information that I got from looking at the face in the photo. There was a tiny time-faded photograph of a face. It was of a Black man.This was the sense that I got from it, that it was me, in fact.There were beautiful trousers about. As well, there was a large armoire with tons and tons of beautiful, silk robes that I had worn in that life.They were worn around the house by the former occupant. There were, on the bed, some clothes. Too, there was a table beside the bed.Everything in this bungalow was very organic: the bed was very organic, the desk was and even the fixtures were very organic. As well, the cloth was very organic – by organic, I mean that it wasn’t inanimate.
It was organic because it was lifelike. More than that, it was organic because it was breathing. That’s why it had lived so long because it was quite some time since last occupied by the owner.However, it was very much so still alive. The sheet and bedding, on the bed, were woollen and greyish-coloured.The only reason why I had entered the room, in the first place, was I wanted to roam – to see if there were any signs of underwear… there was. There was tons of underwear on the shelves behind me.I wanted to check and sniff his underwear, to see if he had masturbated.
Anyway, when I got into the room, that little adventure had totally evaporated. For having seen the photograph, if you like I was quite interested in exploring the place and getting to refamiliarise myself with the place.The bedroom was just absolutely beautiful. Off to the left, rather behind the shelves and straight ahead, was the closet and the bed was to the right of the door.
Down this long hallway that was sky-lit were the tables and tables of clothing. There was a door past the shelves, on the left, and it looked into more and more clothes.I then came out of there and I went about exploring all over. This time, I went to explore all the cacti in the place. There were tons and tons of them.Shortly thereafter, I was joined by Carl Leroiderien, Merlin and someone else who seemed like Mario of Paris – Mario D’Agostino, however, it wasn’t him.I had a sense of Maxime Gascoigne-de Montigny being about and Carl Leroiderien had seemed like a custodian of the place. Carl was a caretaker or curator of the sprawling bungalow which now seemed like an historic site.When he was excitedly walking everyone through the place, to show them the place, he was referring to the owner. I was there but, again, none of these people had any awareness that I was there – not even Merlin.
He was sort of filling them in on who the owner was. From what I could see, Carl was doing a good job of it.There were cacti that were tall. There were also red ones. There was one cactus that was tall and it had needles on it. It had large, large leaves and two or three leaves like those of a royal palm’s.Most of it was like a palm tree but it was like a breadfruit leaf or some sort of leaf like a maple leaf – albeit an extra large maple leaf. It was, however, cactus.Everywhere there were plants on either side of the skylight hallways. The bungalow was a series of long halls that were all connected and veered off in different directions.
However, it was a house that had basically become a living garden such that it was organic. The cacti truly were the lungs of the house. The air was really nice and it was cool.The humans were able to live with the cacti because it was a totally self-sustainable dwelling. As the light came in heliotropically sustaining the various cacti species, it added breath, depth and dimension to the space thereby making it equally organic.Too, because it was partially submerged belowground, there was a lot of moisture from underground that kept these plants alive. The cacti were quite happy and they had grown so beautifully.It was as if they were bonsai cacti. It was quite incredible how they were all over the place throughout the house.
Then I went down some steps to another open area of the bungalow. Again, there were more cacti. We moved off and came to an area where Carl said,“Oh let’s go downstairs, I can show you the basement. You can see all these wonderful things.”When you looked out the skylight area, it was of the street, the pathway into what would seem Crab Hill, Sandy Point, St. Kitts. So I immediately was afraid to be seen yet I was assured by Carl as he stilled my nerves telepathically saying,‘Oh, it’s okay… it’s okay.’I was concerned about the people, who lived across the street, reporting me to the militia-types. There was bamboo, organic bamboo if you like, that was made into a fence.It seemed like the backyard of what was the neighbour’s house and they weren’t there. I was told it was quite safe that it was okay. The neighbours weren’t there to squeal on me.
Before you went down the steps, into this other area, there were all these beautiful, beautiful organic works that are quite common in the Orient. For example there were many objets d’art.These were objets d’art which were beautiful temples and totems. They were all made from the ivory of elephants’ tusks. It was all beautifully detailed and in miniature – all the miniature designs were made of ivory.That was the sort of stuff. This particular objet d’art was large. It was square-shaped so that it wasn’t like an elephant’s tusk. More like an obelisk, if you like, it was.They were more so little temples. They were shrines and Greek temples if you like. What was truly fascinating was how incredibly detailed they were though scaled down versions of the real architectural gems.
We moved on and now we came to an area that had nothing but wares. There were lots of baskets everywhere because this was where the ornaments were kept. They were all stored therein.Carl was the caretaker of these things. He was quite familiar with every item and, again, there were bamboo basket-like wares and objets d’art.I was told that this was, in fact, like a wine cooler. It was so delicately and intricately made. Also, the item was collapsible. It could open. The objet d’art was like a valise and it could open up.Merlin went and opened it and was prying into it. It had two African skulls or heads on it and it was quite beautifully detailed as a matter of fact.
We then moved on and came into the downstairs area. This place was like a cellar. Somehow, copious rays of sunlight made it to this part of the sprawling, multi-levelled bungalow.Even though we were further underground yet, somehow, the sunlight came in. However, I soon realised that it wasn’t sunlight. It was just this light that was white and somewhat diffuse.It was quite soft and nice to the touch. Among the many stored wares, there was something that had a white bamboo-like coil. This thing had a piece of string attached to it with two yellow sticks or shoots like chopsticks.
You could insert it and it was, in fact, quite sexual. The Mario D’Agostino character immediately grabbed it up. Whilst simulating sexual play, he was playing around with it.He was making noises filled with sexual innuendo and then said,“Umm, get undressed and put it on your cock because that’s what it’s made for.”Oh he was so happy to perform and went off to try on the item.
*Here now, some further comments set in the dream in the beautiful house. Here, the atmosphere in this house was one of serenity and it was a reflection of that particular life that one had led whence the proprietor was Black.Tall and very erudite, he seemed a man of the world. He was well-travelled. He loved beautiful music and he had a collection of things in his bedroom that were totems from his travels.He was obviously tall because there were lots of khaki and white summer pants which all gave a sense of his height. When I had first entered into the room, there was also a rack that I had bumped into.I hadn’t noticed it because it was suspended from the ceiling. It was racked with leather suspenders and an enormous collection of belts: broad belts, narrow belts, as well, skinny belts.
There were all kinds of beautiful belts. They were very expensive and they were also very organic and ancient. They weren’t brand new any of them.It was all a reflection of the person’s spirit. You never met the person but you knew the person through the house. It was beautiful and wonderfully planned out.The sprawling, organic bungalow was so multidimensional; it went off in all these directions and avenues because that was who this person was in that lifetime. In a box to call home, he was not contained or restrained.The organic house constantly veered off. It had many apartments and veered off and had many cul de sacs. There were areas where he could go and be removed from all the other areas yet be surrounded by plants.
At all times, he was surrounded by life itself and it was healthy… quite nice.Whilst at the restaurant having the lentil-looking soup, the reason for the extra-tall, obvious extra-human being impatient with me was more subtle than one may assume. With their sophisticated proboscis, it is safe to assume that smell was the most developed of this extra-human race’s senses rather than sight as is the case for we humans.Likely, there was something very off-putting to my pheromone makeup which left the seated extra-human uncomfortable. I don’t think that it was a matter of my race, Black, but my species, Earthly human, which made the über-poilu, blond extra-human uncomfortable.
As I was in his home world, he naturally felt put upon for having the unfavourable aspects of my pheromones anywhere near him. At the end of the day, he was an incarnate ensouled fragment who is one of seven soul types and with the same selection of overleaves as any Earthly human. Any Earthly human would have similarly responded to having someone of outré pheromone and species in their midst.
A very serene dream it remarkablywas. END.
As ever, Life is like a flying dream; if you look down, you’re fucked. Enjoy the ride and fear no one!
Michael: This fragment was a third-level mature slave –- second life thereat. Elizabeth was in the perseveration mode with a goal of dominance. A realist, she was in the moving part of intellectual centre.
Body type was Venus/Lunar.
Elizabeth’s primary chief feature was stubbornness and the secondary self-deprecation.
The fragment Elizabeth is fourth-cast in fifth cadence; she is a fragment of greater cadence six. Elizabeth’s entity is one, cadre six, greater cadre 7, pod 418.
Elizabeth’s essence twin is a slave and the task companion is a priest.
Elizabeth’s three primary needs were: security, adventure and exchange.
There are 6 past-life associations with Arvin and 4 with Merlin.
*Elizabeth is an entity mate of both Prince Harry (5th mature Warrior soul), his wife, Meghan, Duchess of Sussex (mid-cycle mature Artisan soul); these three souls have a bond that is both unshakable and unfathomable to the unaware eye.
During the early hours of September 10, whilst her body remained at Balmoral Castle, I had a lucid dream encounter with the departed Queen. Clearly, it was set on the astral plane and might even have been set at Balmoral or Holyrood House. The dream was immensely lucid and brief. She was sat in a tiny enclosed area where the walls were at least ten feet high, old stone that were time-blackened and moss-saturated in the cracks. I came to in the dream in mid-stride and realised who it was as I slowly progressed from the interior to the enclosed tiny courtyard that was no more than ten square feet. Sat, she wore a dark, pine green shawl loosely about her drooped shoulders with a predominantly white, flower-enlivened scarf well back from the crown of her head. Her lips were parted and her compacted bottom teeth were visible. Her arms gathered about her, she noticeably shivered and immediately said that it was cold. I did not find it remotely cool and it was, though beautifully lit here, not daytime out. looking off to the right, I saw a large woollen, light blue blanket; I stepped away from her and picked it up, still having said nothing.
As I approached anew, I noticed that as she sat on a stone seat in the middle of the tiny courtyard, all around her a thick viscous fluid bled away from her body. It was bronze-coloured and the same thickness as motor oil. The bonze-coloured liquid seemed almost as if possessed of a dull light but a light it was, which was undeniable. Approaching her right side as she sat facing me, I reached around the blanket and was mindful to infuse the blanket with the same intense energy as when laying my hand on actor, River Phoenix’s back during our encounter within 48 hours of his passing in 1993. Frail, shrunken and withered, Elizabeth the departed Queen’s teeth could be heard as she increasingly shivered. Placed fully about her shoulders, I began stepping back away from her and she looked truly grateful. Looking at her aged blue eyes, they slowly began transforming. The Queen’s pupils began expanding, until there was neither blue nor white left to her eyes. Her hair, too, changed colour, becoming brunette with few silver hairs. Readily, I employed a tried and convenient technique. I blinked as she looked directly to me and with that, I effortlessly, lucidly awoke in the blink of the eyes.
Again, here is the dream of Queen Elizabeth’s homecoming on the astral plane. It was had on the eve of HM King Charles III’s November 14, 2021 73rd birthday. It has been my experience that when I have such awakened dreams of persons’ homecoming on the astral plane that person will pass within the year, as has proven the case for Queen Elizabeth II. I am pleased that I took the time to share that dream last November on this blog; I instinctively knew that she would pass within the year. Why pray tell would I dream of her, apart from the fact that she was the most famous human on the planet; we share 6 past-life associations which is considerable since we aren’t even from the same pod. The reason she appeared to be in her mid-to-late 40s when her metamorphosis began to the astral body is that Queen Elizabeth was a third mature slave soul.
Prince Harry Duke of Sussex 1 6 7 418 Warrior Fifth Mature
Ennio Morricone 2 6 7 418 Artisan Seventh Mature
Lilibet-Diana 2 6 7 418 Sage Third Mature
Frederik Pohl 2 6 7 418 Sage Second Old
Doria Ragland 3 6 7 418 Slave Fifth Mature
Lionel Richie 4 6 7 418 Sage Fifth Mature
Yukio Mishima 5 6 7 418 Warrior Second Mature
Archie M-Windsor 5 6 7 418 Priest Seventh Mature
Prince George of Wales 5 6 7 418 King Fourth Mature
*All mid-cycle mature lives are extremely difficult, both Meghan, Duchess of Sussex and Marilyn Monroe are classic examples on the world stage of such lives. Mid-cycle only ever occurs at the mature soul age cycle and it always falls between third and fourth mature soul age. As it is difficult, this cycle lasts on average 2-3 lives, though, it can span up to 4 lives. This is where the soul truly divests itself of young soul-focussed consciousness. There is no going back after this cycle and it cannot be made clear enough that these are difficult lives that are lived at mid-cycle mature. Incidentally, like Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, HM Queen Camilla is also mid-cycle mature but a scholar soul. This is why HM Queen Camilla always seems a bit uneasy, at times neurotic, in public but true to her scholar disposition, she is ever going to be associated with literacy and instrumental with the Man Booker Prize.
Catherine, HRH Princess of Wales <10> and HRH Prince Henry, Duke of Sussex <9> are both warriors and they are both fifth mature warriors; there is positively no way that these two would not get along; one of the reasons why Catherine, HRH Princess of Wales majored in art history is that more of the brain is used at fifth mature and onwards – it is where the realms of dreams and creativity become pronounced. Each soul level is uniquely focussed in the life lessons undertaken. Someone who is seventh mature, like HM King Charles III <?>, is vastly more old-souled than HRH Prince William, Prince of Wales <6> who is sixth mature; the difference is as vast as if Charles were late mature, which he is, and William were late young – though obviously not. Conversely, William is vastly more mature-souled than both Henry and Catherine who are fifth mature. In the above photograph here is how the Windsors stack up with regards the agedness of soul. HM King Charles III is seventh mature and thus the oldest soul of the lot, though, to be fair as neither HRH Princess Charlotte of Wales <?> and HRH Prince Louis of Wales <?> overleaves are known by me, we work with the others in the photograph. HM King Charles III is older-souled than HRH Prince William, Prince of Wales, who in turn is older-souled than both Catherine, HRH Princess of Wales and HRH Prince Henry, Duke of Sussex. Those two fifth mature warriors are in turn, older-souled than HRH Prince George of Wales <4> who is a fourth mature king soul. Prince George in turn is older-souled than both HM Queen Camilla <10> and Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex <4>, who are not only both mid-cycle mature, they are also both on their third life at that level. Third-level lives attract a lot of animus by nature. Incidentally, HRH Prince George of Wales is an entity mate of the Sussexes’ firstborn, Archie. Archie is a seventh mature priest soul <6> on his second life. I cannot state enough how immensely radiant of inner beauty Archie is and he will always have an uplifting effect when he walks into a room. It is a testament to the Sussexes’ love that Archie’s soul chose to be their firstborn. Regardless of anything else, for being entity mates, Prince George will also relish Archie’s counsel and find true guidance when they commune; entity mates are truly family. Priest souls are rather rare only less rare than king souls and they leave a strong impression.
*<10> as in the case of Catherine, HRH Princess of Wales, such numbers in arrow-shaped brackets represent number of past-life associations shared between that person and me. HM King Charles III is in pod 404; I requested his overleaves when learning that he was an entity mate of artist Robert Bateman (seventh mature king soul) with whom George Hawken (first old artisan soul) had collaborated and often spoke highly of. Though I have high enough past-life history with HM Queen Camilla <10>, I have never once dreamt of her – it is important to note that each time I sleep, I recall anywhere from 6 to more than a dozen dreams in detail-rich lucidity. Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh (fourth mature warrior soul) <14> is a member of pod 408; dreams encounters with this man were always engaging, unpretentious and usually telepathic. Incidentally, dream encounters with Catherine, HRH Princess of Wales are also usually telepathic and three days after The Queen’s state funeral I dreamt of her – see below.
She was in a courtyard being focussed, competitive; she wore a extra thick black bodysuit that was like a scuba diver’s suit. Catherine carried a white, slightly scooped paddle and played alone with a heavy, smaller version of a medicine ball. As this was a dream, whilst she played, we telepathically communicated with me always to her left rear. She would strike the black ball quite forcefully, wherever it struck the wall, the ball would become stuck to the hard blackened wall; this gave the sense that both wall and ball were magnetised. Then without warning, the ball would be ejected with great force; the ball seemed as though a perfectly round ten-pound kettlebell. Catherine never missed the ball and she was having to duck and weave as though a tennis player, who is close to the net and therefore having to stretch, leap and quickly recover. It was always impossible to anticipate where the ball would go, it could return directly to her, actually curve away or go diagonally to the side as when a tennis player goes for an ace to the side of the court. Catherine, however, was throughout intensely focussed and would not miss a ball, thereby betraying her warrior soul steeliness. I guess at some point in the future, this game will be invented, in the meantime, the Princess of Wales was using it as it engaged and worked every muscle group in the body, which is why she wore the extra thick and tight body suit. Throughout, the suit contained ribbing that looked and behaved like the ventral grooves of rorqual whales; when the grooves expanded the rubberised-looking suit revealed white folds. When any muscle group expanded, the suit’s grooves would expand but just as readily contract back into place; this enabled the Princess of Wales to be always keenly aware of what muscles were being used or ought to have been better used – truly intelligent design. Catherine, HRH Princess of Wales here was just as powerful an athlete as Serena Williams. Catherine wore thick black gloves and equally bulky footwear that looked like shortened Wellington boots. Similarly, she wore wraparound protective eyewear that resembled a diving mask. Here, in this rather lucid dream, Catherine, Princess of Wales wore her hair gathered back from her face in a ponytail and her hair was just a bit longer than shoulder length.
Here is a list of famous priest souls and you can see that theirs is a radiance of spirit and leadership that is unsurpassed; they are all about uplifting one’s spirit: Mahatma Gandhi (seventh old), Nelson Mandela (sixth mature), Jessye Norman (first old), Barack Obama (seventh young), Yehudi Menuhin (second old), Lucian Freud (fifth mature), James Baldwin (fourth mature), Malcolm X (sixth mature), Louis Farrakhan (fifth young), Hermann Hesse (second old), Nina Simone (sixth mature), William F. Buckley (sixth young), John Lennon (second mature), Gustave Flaubert (fifth old), Gord Downie (sixth mature), Camille Paglia (second mature), Leonard Cohen (fifth mature), Marvin Gaye (sixth mature), Martin Luther King Jr. (sixth mature) – you shall know them by their voice! Obama is a young priest but his message was about hope a very uplifting priestly worldview. Priests have the most radiant and most intense eyes and they tend to be almond-shaped, regardless the ethnicity. Priests are not always all good, Hitler was a young priest because when a priest is bad, they is no soul more extreme.
*Not only are they both priest souls but Canadian musician, Gord Downie and Martin Luther King Jr. are entity mates.
What I did not mention in the last blog was the importance of Queen Elizabeth II’s soul type and soul age. Slave souls make up roughly 25 percent of all souls and as such are the most populous soul types of the seven, which are: slave, artisans, warriors, scholars, sages, priests and kings. Slaves are the salt of the earth types; in my experience and from the hundreds of Michael overleaves that I have had channelled, Slaves souls are to be avoided at all costs. For me, a seventh level mature artisan on third life cast in 6th (priest) position in third (warrior) cadence, third (warrior) greater cadence, entity six (priest) cadre one (slave), greater cadre seven (king) pod 414, I simply do not, as a sceptic and with a chief feature of impatience, have time for slave souls and their manipulative, small-mindedness; it is also my third (warrior) life at seventh mature, which means I am more warrior than most and will be brusque about having persons honour my boundaries, especially so when I have master numbers of 11. All the ‘drama’ and brutalising “hazing” as Christina Oxenberg refers to this trial-by-fire of wives of Windsor who marry in, rather than being blood princesses, originated and was triggered by HM Queen Elizabeth II. She was a slave soul but she was also in dominance with a mode of perseverance and with a chief feature of stubbornness. The Queen, for women who married into the royal family, was exasperatingly difficult. It would have taken herculean patience to deal with her, if one were a family member and definitely if female and wedded into the Windsor dynasty. Most of all, all persons with a primary chief feature of stubbornness are shit-disturbers and they love interfering and pitting others against each other.
Of course, no one can say that Harry is fabricating when he has repeatedly stated that he shared a close bond with his grandmother, The Queen. Entity mates are family at the level of soul. Cadre mates are cousins. Greater cadre mates are like second, third cousins and in-laws, and pod mates are like the extended family scattered across the globe. The bond is less intense for pod mates as it is with the warmth and solidity of entity mates but it still exists. For instance, if the Sussexes were to attended a Lionel Richie concert, they would come away, feeling uplifted and warm. The reason incidentally why Harry & Meghan are always criticised for holding hands in public, is not only are they solidly bonded entity mates but this is their 21st lives together; they have reincarnationally been every possible relationship to date. There is no way that they would not handhold. It is part of the way that they engage the intense telekinesis between them and keep it active; they are basically melding their auras and forming a fortified, stronger forcefield around themselves. Though entity mates with high past-live contact, Harry and Meghan are, however, not task companions. If anyone of the persons listed above from cadre six, greater cadre seven, pod 418 were to read a Frederik Pohl novel, they would bond with the written word on a deeper level than say someone from pod 129.
Speaking of pod 129 and in keeping with the previous blog where the Victorian misogynist persona was explored, let’s look at Queen Elizabeth, Queen Mother’s overleaves. She, too, was a slave soul like her mother, which afforded both – along with Queen Mary whose overleaves I do not know – the focussed attack for maintaining the Victorian misogynist persona. Pod 129 is a trawler’s bountiful net, straining at the seams with famous persons. I will list all the famous persons from entities one through seven of cadre one, greater cadre four, pod 129, into which Queen Elizabeth Queen Mother’s soul was cast.
Bowes-Lyon, Elizabeth 4/8/1900<O>30/3/2002 (4.3.4 = 11, same numerology as Meghan)
Michael: This fragment was second-level mature slave – fourth life thereat. Elizabeth was in the observation mode with a goal of dominance. A sceptic, she was in the intellectual part of moving centre.
Body type was Venus/Lunar.
Elizabeth’s primary chief feature was pronounced stubbornness and the secondary self-deprecation.
The fragment Elizabeth is seventh-cast in fourth cadence; she is a member of greater cadence three. Elizabeth’s entity is two, cadre one, greater cadre 4, pod 129.
Elizabeth’s essence twin is a slave and she has a priest task companion.
Elizabeth’s primary needs were: security, exchange and communion.
There are 4 past-life associations with Arvin and 9 with Merlin.
Martin Luther King Jr. 4 1 4 129 Priest Sixth Mature
Shirley MacLaine 5 1 4 129 Sage Fifth Mature
Wynton Marsalis 5 1 4 129 Sage Seventh Young
Kamala Harris 6 1 4 129 Warrior Third Mature
Yo Yo Ma 6 1 4 129 Sage Second Old
Nina Simone 7 1 4 129 Priest Sixth Mature
Yehudi Menuhin 7 1 4 129 Priest Second Old
*In a prior life, Georgia O’Keeffe was Spanish painter, El Greco. Also, a member of entity one is American scholar, Carl Sagan; I am not conversant with his role or soul age. Incidentally, it takes roughly five to seven thousand years to go from your first life on this planet as an ensouled human being as a first infant soul to seven old soul. Your soul type never changes and anyone claiming to have been alive in Atlantis has simply got an active imagination or have done too much drugs. Christ was a seventh old king on his last life; he is never coming back. Why? No one is responsible for anyone’s choices. The most famous seventh level old soul on their last life, recently experienced by human civilisation, was the scholar soul, Stephen Hawking; his soul will never again reincarnate. He did not need a hot or a fully functional body as he was chiefly focussed on dispensing all the knowledge that he had acquired over the course of lives lived, which is why his was such a brilliant mind.
*G.C. – Greater Cadre.
*TC = Task companion. The task companion is a soul to which you are uniquely bonded. That soul is always in your entity and they are always never the same soul type as oneself. Merlin and I are task companions, he a seventh mature scholar soul and I, a seventh mature artisan with very strongly cardinal warrior casting – and I am also on my third (warrior) life at seventh level mature, which gives a very brassy “do not piss me the fuck off” bluntness.
Not only are Merlin and I task companions but that seven-year relationship in fin-de-siècle New York City and Toronto was the forty-third time that our souls had gotten together whilst incarnate. Also, Merlin reincarnated in 2006 in Amsterdam. Female, reincarnated Merlin is the last of three children with two older brothers. Female Merlin was reborn in 02.12.2006 year of the Dog. Numerologically, 2.5.4 = 11. As you can see, reincarnated Merlin now has two numbers in common with myself 2 & 11. My life was study for his soul whilst between lives and that energy body of two affords him an abundance of creativity and the master numbers of 11, indicate her (reincarnated Merlin) need to be a singularly focussed lone wolf of sorts. Born August 02, 1960, my numbers are 2.1.8 = 11. I would suspect that TRH Prince & Princess of Wales have had at least 30 past lives together. John Travolta is an artisan soul and his departed wife, Kelly Preston his sage task companion. Similarly, for task companions TRH Prince & Princess of Wales, Catherine is a fifth mature warrior and William a sixth mature scholar. Warriors like king souls are always the dominant partner in any relationship; William will also yield to her in a heated row – and yes, task companions will row anywhere any frigging time. Catherine is balls tougher than William any given Wednesday. Also, Wanda Toscanini and Vladimir Horowitz, like Catherine and William, are warrior and scholar task companions respectively. Task companions are always close in soul age; for this reason it is safe to assume that sage soul, Kelly Preston was a young soul sage to her task companion, John Travolta being sixth level young. You will never have one task companion a young soul and the other an old soul. Classic example of the task companion focus, is the Prince & Princess of Wales; the nature of the bond is to undertake a shared task. In this case, the Prince & Princess of Wales are focussed on stewardship of the environment, maintaining and perpetuating the Windsor dynasty.
Here are how past-life contacts affect one during the course of a lifetime. Take the Duke & Duchess of Sussex. Meghan who had previously been Margaret Beaufort, matriarch of the Tudor dynasty, my soul has had 4 past-life associations with her soul. As this is a relatively low past-life contact rate, for this reason, I have never once dreamt of her; further, she is well-fortified as well she should. Meghan, Duchess of Sussex is, after all, the most hated Black woman in human history. In the case of her husband, Prince Harry, as we have shared 9 past-life associations, I dream of from time to time. It is not uncommon to have astral plane dream encounters with persons with whom you have shared past lives; however, with 1-5 past life associations, it would be rare that you would dream of such a person. 6-10 past life associations and there will be dream contact but not with any appreciable consistency. 11-15 such persons you will see in the dream time with fair regularity; they would be like someone in one’s part of town whom you see fairly regularly, though, you never directly interact or if so rarely and not intentionally do so. 16-20 and these are regular dream companions with whom you are likely to have healthy sexual contact (in dreams) and who are likely to be cadre if not entity mates. 21-25 flying dreams and other spiritually elevated experiences with commonality is the norm here. Apart from sex, they may be entity mates with whom you will continue the relationship, if known, after they pass on. 26-30, definitely entity mates with whom you will dine, fly, physicalise and also explore past-life experiences. Anything above 31, you are likely to spend time with them when they pass on, to assist with their orientation to the shift in experience/focus.
The rules are not rigidly applied for instance within 48 hours of his death by overdose, I had a rather lucid astral plane dream encounter with River Phoenix. He is an artisan in my greater cadence and for being an entity mate with 18 past-life associations – though we did not meet in this incarnation – I was called into action to be of service to facilitate much needed energy alignment with his sudden transition. The link to that dream with River Phoenix is in the link that follows.
As with the above dream because River Phoenix was newly refocussed on the astral plane, I was there and for not being an astral plane habitué, had the ability to fly. Also, in that dream from 1993, I ran into extra-human (extra-terrestrial/alien) persons who though likely perfectly disguised in the waking state, appeared in the dream time in their natural state.
For 70 years Queen Elizabeth II has ruled with an iron fist and bullied her family’s every generation. The only persons not so bullied are the third generation after her. She bullied her sister, simply because women are programmed to bully, mistrust and go to war against each other. Most of all, Elizabeth now gratefully departed, can no longer be feared and the truth of who she has always been: insecure, vengeful, manipulative, can, with callous candour, be discussed.
HRH Princess Margaret, Countess Snowdon was infinitely more talented and beautiful than her. In the second Elizabethan age women fared miserably once in the orbit of this insecure, compromised Queen. Every woman who came within her orbit at the Court of St. James, was rapaciously preyed on and rendered spent… ravaged… spayed. Margaret was more talented and more beautiful and why should be able to take her lover, Captain Peter Townsend? For openly, intimately touching Captain Townsend at HM The Queen’s coronation, ‘her,’ coronation was enough to cause the young Queen Elizabeth II to canter and overrun Margaret until she was captured and fully spayed. Margaret would never be allowed to have her true love after that. She was left to live a life of debauchery and very slow immolation of spirit, thanks to a mere woman having offended Queen Elizabeth II, the Victorian misogynist.
Elizabeth’s stubbornness was forged by a domineering mother, HM Queen Elizabeth, Queen Mother and paternal grandmother, HM Queen Mary, Queen Consort, who was even more intransigent in her steely, stubbornness. Queen Elizabeth II was brought up, nurtured by a mother who had been groomed by Queen Mary, whose psyche was that of the 19th century European royalty, who saw themselves god-anointed to rule over the world’s inferior, unsightly masses. Elizabeth was groomed by Queen Mary, who died less than three months before Queen Elizabeth II’s coronation on June 2, 1953.
More than anything, after the disaster of King Edward VIII’s abdication, all that mattered to both HM Queen Mary, Queen Consort and HM Queen Elizabeth, Queen Consort was that HM King George VI’s heir was groomed to be as unwaveringly conservative as possible. HM King George VI was a weak man whom his mother and wife readily manipulated. The cannibalising monster that HM Queen Elizabeth II became was forged in the manipulations and 19th century perspectives of HM Queen Mary, Queen Consort and HM Queen Elizabeth, Queen Consort.
Exotic and glamorous, Wallis apart from being a divorcée was also an American. Unlike aristocratic English families from the colonial eras, the Windsors did not to have this American marry in when they were wealthiest of all in the land. However, a threat she most certainly was. Groomed was HRH Princess Elizabeth of York to loathe Wallis and she was keenly instructed in the way Wallis had to be treated if the Royals were to retain their exclusivity and air of thorough Britishness, sensitive as they already were of their German heritage. Both HM Queen Mary, King Mother and Elizabeth, HRH Duchess of York deeply resented Wallis Simpson and saw her as nothing more than a loose woman, who could never be Queen Consort. That is why on becoming HM Queen Elizabeth, Queen Consort, both Queens saw to it that Wallis and Edward VIII were banished from the kingdom; they used the compromised HM King George VI to send Wallis and her shadow off to Bahamas as Governor. Of course, as they were permanently banned, long after HM Queen Mary, King Mother died in 1953, HM Queen Elizabeth Queen Mother and Queen Elizabeth II saw to it that Edward VIII and Wallis stayed ostracised, slowly withering away in France To the very end, Edward VIII (1972) & Wallis (1986) remained ever spayed and neutered by the Victorian misogynists: HM Queen Mary, Queen Consort, HM Queen Elizabeth Queen Mother and Queen Elizabeth II.
Of course, it does go without saying that intergenerational troika, this Victorian hydra sat atop the slithering head of the original misogynist, HM Queen Victoria. She was too consumed with empire and ruling, subjugating the heathen peoples of the Dark Continent and beyond, enslaved or otherwise. She really had little time to plot and scheme as her descendant troika whose intergenerational bond cemented the Victorian misogynist ethos, which became perfectly and skilfully realised in Queen Elizabeth II. HM Queen Victoria had no connections to HM Queen Elizabeth, Queen Mother and Queen Elizabeth II but they were ably groomed by HM Queen Mary, King Mother who, of course, knew and had far better relations with HM Queen Victoria than HM Queen Alexandra, Queen Consort of HM King Edward VII.
HM Queen Alexandra had little time or use for HM Queen Victoria. She would have found Queen Victoria maudlin and to be avoided at all costs. With an energy body of 1, HM Queen Alexandra had more than enough to handle with the Prince of Wales, her husband, the future HM King Edward VII. Too, it was a cultural divide that could never be bridged. For her part, Alexandra knew to stay clear of HM Queen Victoria as she would have found her mother-in-law’s energy body of 6 a energy sap. To that end, she busied herself with horses, which HM Victoria protested – all the more reason to ride to the hounds, her burgeoning brood and a husband who was a womanising handful. HM Queen Mary like HM Queen Victoria was a Rabbit and thus would have avoided Queen Alexandra as much as the latter avoided Queen Victoria. To that end, Queen Mary found favour in Queen Victoria and toadied up and morphed into Victoria’s favoured. Where she did not have good relations with Mary, she was comforted in her senior years of having Mary’s constancy and doting to count on. Mary modelled herself on Queen Victoria and therein were rooted the Victorian misogynist.
Of course, with King Edward VII’s womanising, came Alice Keppel whose more successful courtesan descendant would cannibalise her competition, Diana, Princess of Wales, to eventually be crowned HM Camilla, Queen Consort. HM Queen Mary wanted to purge the monarchy of the licentiousness that had flowered for almost a decade after HM Queen Victoria’s death. If anyone was capable of righting the moral compass of the Victoria Age, it was HM Queen Mary, Queen Consort. The 15 years left to HM Queen Alexandra, King Mother’s life were passed being shunned and eclipsed by HM Queen Mary knew her to have been disfavoured by HM Queen Victoria. Also, HM Queen Mary, Queen Consort had not time for HM Queen Alexandra, King Mother as the latter was physically incapacity as a result of one of her pregnancies and this HM Queen Mary born in the year of the Rabbit would have shunned and found decidedly unroyal.
Though HM Queen Mary may well have been no reanimation of Queen Victoria’s persona, she certainly modelled herself after Victoria in her bid to remove all semblance of the libertine decade brought on by HM King Edward VII’s reign. HM Queen Elizabeth, Queen Consort was thoroughly groomed by Queen Mary and as such, HM Queen Elizabeth II was groomed by both her mum and paternal grandmother.
Though this may be the start of the second Carolean age, it still is chiefly the continuation of the Second Victorian Age, begun by HM Queen Mary, Queen Consort, through her devotees, HM Queen Elizabeth, Queen Consort, through Queen Elizabeth II and her son HM King Charles III, who in turn had been well-groomed by HM Queen Elizabeth, Queen Mother.
There certainly are perks to being king. From the beefy equerry to the convenient living arrangements.
Talk about Diana’s revenge. Why share a home with that when you have got the finest cut in the land? It is, indeed, good to be King.
Having thoroughly dispensed with HM Queen Alexandra King Mother, HM Queen Mary King Mother, HM Queen Elizabeth Queen Mother and Queen Elizabeth II for almost the next century would rule the second Victorian age with just about every woman who joined or were on the periphery of the Court of St. James, fast becoming yet another spayed Windsor wife. HM Queen Alexandra, Wallis, Duchess of Windsor, HRH Princess Margaret, Countess Snowdon in true Victorian fashion, denied having her true love close at hand with Captain Peter Townsend shipped off to Belgium. Diana, Princess of Wales would not conform; she was expected to be the corseted ideal conformist Princess of Wales of the second Victorian age. She couldn’t… she wouldn’t and it came at a price to her. Thus she was literally cannibalised by the Victorian misogynists embodied by HM Queen Elizabeth Queen Mother and her daughter, much favoured by HM Queen Mary, Queen Elizabeth II.
Diana, Princess of Wales, of course, was disruptive. The role she played in the second Victorian age, was to be the deluge which would so disrupt the status quo that she would end up breaking the dam and unleash the flooding tide of the Age of Aquarius as we move violently away from the Age of Capricorn, which the United Kingdom more embodied than any other nation. Diana, Princess of Wales was the very antithesis of the second Victorian age woman; Queen Mary would never have approved. She was too headstrong, too much indeed, like HM Queen Alexandra, King Mother.
For that troika of Victorian misogynists, HM Queen Mary, King Mother, HM Queen Elizabeth, Queen Mother and Queen Elizabeth II, Diana, Princess of Wales was easily preyed on. She was not a starchy Capricornian icon; she was filled with wanderlust, adventure, compassion and possessed of that most bizarre quality for the Victorian misogynist, idealism. The EIIR was ruthlessly pragmatic and a consummate realist. She did not care nor give a damn about the little people; however, she knew history and she knew that she had to have them eating out of the palms of her hand rather than telling them to go eat cake. With that hat, bag, shoes, brooch, gloves and the right beguiling smile, her persona was in place and out the doors she went to keep the little people in their place, fawningly obedient and worshipful. Modern, easy, breezy, Aquarian Icon, Diana, Princess of Wales was a threat of the highest order to the cossetted, fixity of the Second Victorian Age ruled over by the Capricornian misogynist that troika of Queens who ruled over weak, compromised men and strong women whom they readily hunted, preyed and destroyed if they so much as betrayed signs of modernity, openness and change.
They knew Camilla Shand was a mistress and though she had been with child, she was therefore readily malleable, easily controlled and used as they saw fit. You give up the lovechild and in time, if you keep your damn yap shut, you will be handsomely provided for. Well, can you imagine the old camera-scorned’s luck, Diana, Princess of Wales conveniently meets a violent end and voilà before you can wipe arse, there is she, sans doily mind you, being fawned over, though, the slithering Carolean rat keeps her locked away at Ray Mill. How’s that for revenge; certainly not for Diana, Princess of Wales. Truthfully for Diana, Princess of Wales’ supporters focussed here and now, it is divine justice that HM Camilla Queen Consort never gets her lover in the end. This is a life expired and put to rest, about which Diana, Princess of Wales’ soul could care less.
Just look at this woman in action; how she managed not to have been devoured by HM Queen Elizabeth II and the men in suits (courtiers) is a testament of her power over them with the seismic secret and power she levelled over their heads. Just imagine if Meghan, Duchess of Sussex were to have behaved like that when touring a commonwealth nation and openly ridiculed its culture?
If that were not bad enough, after having flown from London, HM King Charles III and HM Camilla, Queen Consort were met by dignitaries at Edinburgh airport. HM King Charles III deplaned first, followed seconds later by Camilla. HM King Charles III spent little time interacting with Scottish First Minister, Nicola Sturgeon, who when she tried engaging Camilla overlong, the Queen Consort simply abandoned the welcoming party and took to sit in the Rolls Royce where she remained for over a minutes, whilst Charles continued greeting the dignitaries. It was a rude affair and on taking to the car, HM King Charles III simply walked past Camilla, sat and exchanged words with her. Never mind Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, Catherine, HRH Princess of Wales would never in a million years have done that, regardless how much she hisses at HRH Prince William, Prince of Wales in public.
Born a blood princess, HRH Princess Anne, Princess Royal naturally escapes all hyper-scrutiny and is never tossed to the Fleet Street abattoirs. I would not be surprised if this woman were not a warrior soul. The monarchy is at the apex of a military complex. Anne as a Tiger woman, like her late mother Queen Elizabeth II is squarely focussed in her duty to the crown, which is supported and protected by the military in its every manifestation. She is solid and all about defending the flame.
The evolution of Catherine has been unique and thus most interesting to observe. I never thought that she should have ever worn her hair down, which she did at the start of her duties as a senior royal, to all three military occasions on the calendar: St. Patrick’s Day and distributing shamrocks and the photo call with the Irish Guards, trooping the colour and Remembrance’s Parade at the Cenotaph in White Hall. On becoming mother, and future King Mother, Catherine’s style changed dramatically and thereafter, it was always hair gathered up at those three important rites in the military calendar.
What Catherine, HRH Princess of Wales should never ever once have done, was given ammunition to her detractors, who are a real power faction, the courtiers. Her open intimacy with Ben Ainslie, her open perpetual rowing with HRH Prince William, Prince of Wales, her husband, have been serious misjudgements on her part. Should the day ever dawn that William, regrettably, decides he has had enough and asks for a divorce, the most aggressive attack on Catherine will come from courtiers. No matter what, the Sovereign is to whom the courtiers are in service and the thousands of royal householders and courtiers will viciously commence a feeding frenzy on Catherine; being broadsided like that would be a most rude awakening for her. At such an eventuality, she would be as irrelevant to them as Diana, Princess of Wales proved on her divorce from HM King Charles III. They do not care; their jobs are more important than who is the Sovereign or heir’s wife – that Diana, Princess of Wales’ expulsion made perfectly clear. Sadly, Catherine did not reflect on this and realise that she could suffer a similar fate for giving her dormant detractors, the courtiers, ample ammunition with which to work.
In due course, when it pleases both William and the courtiers/persons in grey, Catherine will find herself being fed on as if by famished piranhas; they will be vicious and merciless – that is, in the event of an eventual separation and divorce of two Princes and Princesses of Wales in say 50 years. The Queen certainly kept a trained eye on all Windsor wives just as keenly as she did her gee-gees; she never dare touch Catherine as she is William’s task companion with infinitely more powerful Michael Overleaves than either Queen Elizabeth II or HRH Prince William, Prince of Wales.
I always remember that Christmas at Sandringham when attending church, Sarah, Duchess of York wore a blue turban with a crown-less broad-brimmed, grey-white hat. As seen on TV, she was larking about and displaying behaviour that is not within the tenets of the the second Victorian age’s misogynists. At the time, HM Queen Elizabeth Queen Mother was still alive and of course, the Queen and her decisions are both decisive and merciless. Sarah’s numbers can be summed up by the song sung at the end of the musical, Spamalot “Always look on the bright side of life.” Just keep chipperly plugging away and somewhere over the next hill will be Valhalla. Spayed, where the hell was Sarah to run off to? Besides, as we now know, they wanted her kept within the grounds of Windsor Castle because they knew damn well that she was controlled there than being off to America, running her damn mouth.
What an absolute crock of shit. An utter sham at trying to boldly lie before the world. Perhaps, the idiots of the island kingdom will buy it but no one else is either obliged or have to tolerate this insult to intellect. Queen Elizabeth II is damn well storming out of a meeting, in which a blasted American commoner told her to remove her garter gown. Of course, anyone conversant with the layout of Windsor Castle would know that she was not headed to the photo shoot but storming from the photo sitting to her quarters. “How dare she damn well speak to me like that?” Human civilisation does not comprise over 8 thousand worlds scattered across 5, 863 star systems; rather, it is but one world in one star system. There are no damn secrets and there are two things that never lie: facts and a camera. I know someone who lived and worked for years in London as a commonwealth diplomat, who on numerous occasions met with The Queen. Over dinner one night, this diplomat dismissed The Queen as “crass, cheap and absolutely nobody.” This person, based on social status in their commonwealth country, only ever callously speaks the truth.
In a mere twenty-four hours, The Queen had the narrative changed and was obsequiously afforded grovelling apologies. Just imagine, The Queen has always had the ability to call off the dogs, whether it is with Diana, Princess of Wales, Meghan, Duchess of Sussex or Sarah, Duchess of York. What that episode with Annie Liebowitz reveals, is that The Queen willingly allowed the Fleet Street abattoirs to feed on female members, chiefly wives, of the monarchy to maintain control over and abuse of these women, the wives of Windsor. It is the most insidious form of misogyny imaginable; these women for not being in the Victorian mould were possibly recruited so that the misogyny and abuse of strong independent women could be engaged and fostered. Indeed, it is as if a history of ritual abuse of women was actively engaged in across the span of the second Victorian age.
Just like that, a simple silhouette, no royal pearl necklace. No jewellery… nothing. Just her effortless elegance, that foundation of African melanin and numerology, which attest to the fact that the camera is more besotted with her than anyone else in the Windsor dynasty. Just by being there, she was the most photographed and best dressed. Most of all, just by being there, she had won. Meghan, truth be told, was pissing on old pepper mouth’s grave. Meghan proved the one strong woman who was not felled by the Victorian misogynist, Queen Elizabeth II. Though HM The Queen and the courtiers have succeeded in perpetuating the racist notion, via the Fleet Street abattoirs, that Meghan is the angry Black woman until the day that they address the blackamoor brooch incident who really cares?
Do not for a nanosecond buy into the lie that The Queen and the rest of the Court of St. James would have you believe, Diana, Princess of Wales was not crazy. Diana, Princess of Wales was one of the shrewdest women to have wedded into the House of Windsor. She was feared and most of all, they knew that she knew her power. That Victorian misogynist, Queen Elizabeth II, empowered by her mother HM Queen Elizabeth Queen Mother, made the smothering spaying of Diana, once she had performed her royal duty as child-bearer, their number one objective. There is positively no way that The Queen was going to give Diana, Princess of Wales a divorce settlement that would allow her to live a comfortable life. She was being fed to the dogs and told to go make your way, after all, Jacqueline Kennedy did it. Go find yourself a billionaire! Smarter than the lot of them, Diana went out and got herself a Muslim with whom she would start a rival dynasty after having converted in due course. Trust an artisan soul (Diana, Princess of Wales and Meghan, Duchess of Sussex) to take the fight to her enemies.
What chance in hell did Meghan, Duchess of Sussex have, when already the Court of St. James had dealt with her kind before, in the form of Diana, Princess of Wales, and convincingly dispensed with her with vulgar finality? Just look at the way TRH Prince & Princess of Wales are looking at Meghan as though she were easy prey. Throughout, Meghan looked on edge, utterly uncomfortable. This was all for the Waleses’ benefit and no one else, of that Meghan was fully aware. To be fair, HRH Prince William, Prince of Wales did pick up the phone and call his brother, Prince Harry inviting him and his wife, Meghan, Duchess of Sussex to join him and Catherine, HRH Princess of Wales on the walkabout at Windsor Castle’s long walk. William did not need HM King Charles III’s permission and he certainly did not care what the courtiers would possibly think.
Now HM King Charles III has decided that if TRH Duke & Duchess of Sussex are good little banished problems then he just might afford their children royal titles, which is their birth right. What in essence the King is implying, is that there is a strong likelihood that the Sussex children will not be afforded titles. So though they are legitimately royal born children, just like Alexandre Grimaldi-Coste, Prince Albert II of Monaco’s lovechild, the fact that Alexandre has a Black mother was reason to decree that Alexandre would never be in the line of succession or be afforded royal titles.
Louis Ducruet, Princess Stephanie’s son and Alexandre’s cousin, on the eve of the former’s wedding with Alexandre’s step-sister, Jazmin Grimaldi, who is also of illegitimate birth by a Caucasian American. You are not good enough to be royal or engage in royal engagements because you are born of a Black woman that it all it means. Of course, the Belgian royals fully accepted as one of their own, an illegitimate daughter who was found to be genetically one of their prince’s children.
Prince Albert II of Monaco with his South African-born wife, Princess Charlene, who clearly sticks around to collect her $10m annually before having her lawyers announce divorce proceedings, is a keen reminder of how racism saturates all of European society. Clearly, Princess Charlene cannot abide being trapped a nanosecond longer than is possible. What sweet revenge for Diana, Princess of Wales not only is HM Camilla, Queen Consort having to sleep alone at Ray Mill whilst King Charles III is at Highgrove, most definitely not alone – seriously, do you really think that Ivar Mountbatten is the only queer in the House of Windsor?
As the final photograph of The Queen callously betrays, at the end of the day, she had become without her hat, handbag, brooch, pearl necklace, gloves and that perfected self-deprecating smile a study of the spent Victorian misogynist. Stripped, she was as if the Wizard of Oz exposed. She spent her life projecting the image of the great unifier, building a legacy of commonwealth inclusivity and togetherness with her willing to bet £35m on the creation of the Sussexes, an interracial couple whom as BBC’s Anita Rani stated on their wedding day, ‘we like her as she can look a little bit Indian…”
As these two episodes with HM King Charles III illustrate, this is not someone who gives a damn about what Americans or Blacks think. They all know that HRH Princess Michael of Kent was being racially harassing of Meghan, Duchess of Sussex by wearing the blackamoor brooch, yet they dug in their heels and had a hissy fit about these ‘stinking’ Americans, ‘stinking’ Black-Americans being so ridiculously obsessed with race. Meghan and Harry complaining about Princess Blackamoor’s racist attack, HM King Charles III, HRH Prince William, Prince of Wales, HRH Philip, Duke of Edinburgh and The Queen would have reacted precisely as Charles behaved about a mere pen, its placement and or functionality.
That blasted flat-arsed racist woman, Princess Blackamoor ought never to have set foot within spitting distance of the Sussexes at their wedding; however, as a form of protest, there was sat her fetid flat arse at St. George’s Chapel on May 19, 2018. After the platinum jubilee coup where Princess Blackamoor was sat even better than the Wessexes, now that The Queen has crawled into her casket, sans crown, shadow and spitefully malignant ego, that racist, Eurotrash, reptilian hybrid was no where to be found sat ahead of the Sussexes at The Queen’s funeral at Westminster Abbey or St. George’s Chapel Windsor.
One evening when living in Cabbagetown, Merlin had friends over for dinner; they were a smart professional couple from the U. S. west coast – they thankfully were not theatre folk. He was a banker and she, formerly an actor, was now a psychoanalyst. I always remember her talk on fame based on her professional observations. Fame said she, was worse than being a drug addict or alcoholic. Her perceptions were revolutionary. According to her, once famous one was straitjacketed into a life of fixity where the known and accepted persona could little change. Regardless how the famous person’s persona actually resembled one’s true nature or not, you were relegated to living a life that ultimately as you aged, you would grow to resent. She used the example of famous film actors being unable to stay in the game as the camera’s vulgarity dispensed with them.
I remember at the time, she used HM The Queen as a prime example of someone who was locked into being ‘the queen’ and that’s that. Well as her cancer consumed her from within, there were signs that all the years of being the penultimate Victorian misogynist, were exacting its toll on her. Indeed, such persons said Merlin’s actor friend turned psychoanalyst were always the most embittered towards the end of their lives as they, in essence, had never been free. Even when at Balmoral being one of the people as the locals eulogised The Queen, it was still never her true self. That’s a lot of energy, a lot of Maya. All that spaying of royal women who threatened the Victorian misogynist’s beau idéal and all of them: Princess Margaret, Queen Alexandra, HM Camilla Queen Consort, Sarah, Duchess of York, Diana, Princess of Wales, Meghan, Duchess of Sussex were fed to the Fleet Street abattoirs and excruciatingly spayed. Yet, Diana, Princess of Wales, Sarah, Duchess of York and Meghan, Duchess of Sussex fought back. HRH Prince Henry, Duke of Sussex was neutered, his military honours stripped because The Queen was being vindictive in the extreme. For that TRH Duke & Duchess of Sussex fought back and relocated away from the kingdom without the Victorian misogynist having any access to their children.
Why indeed should Archie and Lilibet be subjected to racism from the royals or courtiers when The Queen, HM King Charles III and HRH Prince William, Prince of Wales made it perfectly clear that they are not a racist family? Indeed, Prince William may well be right but the courtiers are another matter. They rule and they do by way of leaking everything and targeting those they do not approve of; from Diana, Princess of Wales, Sarah, Duchess of York to most definitely Harry and Meghan. All that Victorian misogyny for having lived long enough, was with karma’s irreverence undone. Courtiers are ruled by the number 9. They are archly conservative, discriminating, scheming, dangerous and the very heart of deception, betrayal and intrigues. These people will be the first to start squawking on the death of The Queen, the second Victorian age’s misogynist.
They will character assassinate the Sussexes far and wide but never once will they be heard to discuss the blackamoor brooch incident. Truth is, they would have been wildly celebratory at the blackamoor brooch incident. Courtiers are advisers and as such, senior palace/royal household staffers with long seniority. They are also minor royals and the relations/descendants of minor royals from prior sovereigns’ reigns. They are not going anywhere. The leaks come from them and they would have been given license to racially harass Meghan, Duchess of Sussex once newly engaged Meghan joined the family. There has not been and never will be an investigation into the racial harassment that Meghan suffered at the hands of Princess Blackamoor and all the other courtiers scattered across all royal households.
Never will these royal sycophants divulge the dirt they know about the Sovereign or its direct heirs; this is why HM King Charles III and his equerry, William and Rose and Catherine and Ben will never be discussed or leaked to the Fleet Street abattoirs.
What these courtiers do not realise is that they reveal themselves in the post funeral attack on Meghan as having been the ones referred to by Meghan, Duchess of Sussex during the Oprah interview in 2021 as denying her doing anything or affording her the help that she sought when struggling during her mental crisis. Do keep in mind that Catherine may well have made Meghan cry because at the time, William had been having an affair with Rose Rocksavage during Catherine’s pregnancy with HRH Prince Louis of Wales.
Indeed, what the courtiers do not realise, is what a horrible, racist light in which they present the House of Windsor. It it extremely important to keep in mind that senior members of the House of Windsor may very well themselves not be anti-Black racists but certainly, Princess Blackamoor and her open racist attack has thusly tarred and feathered them. That is damage which has precipitated many predominantly Black commonwealth nations to begin the process of removing the Sovereign as their head of state.
All the pain and abuse that Victorian misogynist The Queen had inflicted was returned her way. As she tried to spay an American, a Black American, along came another American, Virginia Giuffre, holding her to ransom, in essence, because she – though the Governor of the Church of England – had a lovechild, HRH Prince Andrew Duke of York, with Lord Porchester. Indeed, Diana vanquished for having been felled by the last of the Victorian misogynists, was ultimately avenged as Harry accepted the £35m wedding then left the kingdom with Black American bride, Meghan Duchess of Sussex, thereby putting an end to The Queen’s disingenuous bid at sustaining her commonwealth legacy with the Brown and Black peoples throughout the commonwealth. How fitting that the last photograph of The Queen had her standing, broken, aided by a walking stick whilst a roaring fire triumphantly danced to her rear.
What does it really matter? HM King Charles III may or may not issue letters patent, thereby affording Archie and Lilibet the titles of Prince and Princess. Honest to god, the Sussexes are doing just fine. Conveniently, the Victorian misogynist, The Queen, consumed herself after a decades-long campaign of spaying and even murdering Windsor wives. How can anyone lay blame at Meghan, Duchess of Sussex’s door when Sarah, Duchess of York and Diana, Princess of Wales had been equally spayed and ravaged? One of the reasons why it has been especially hard for Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, is that for having lived a life of ‘passing’ she radically transitioned overnight to being the most racially preyed on Black woman in history and that cannot be easy. Obviously, The Queen cannot be said to have had no part in any of these campaigns, especially so when each Windsor wife was subjected to campaigns that were alarmingly similar in tone and execution.
The Sussexes got fabulous material for the Netflix docuseries with the death and state funeral of The Queen. The Sussexes don’t need the Windsors, just look at them, HM King Charles masquerading with that beard of his, who seems blissfully unaware that sporting invisible doilies does not, in the slightest, lessen the fright. Now, HM King Charles III no more desires her than he did Diana, Princess of Wales at the start of their wedding; too busy him spending quality time with his equerry.
Catherine, HRH Princess of Wales, bless her, was the only one who escaped the Victorian misogynist archetype’s rapacious talons, which reigned for near a century through three queens. Though she certainly displayed that misogyny with Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, it certainly would be good if she were to lay to rest that voracious misogynist archetype that has plagued the Queens of Windsor and terrorised the wives of Windsor. Only time will tell. In the meantime, she will go on being headstrong and holding her own against pugnaciously stubborn HRH Prince William, Prince of Wales. Theirs will be the gap generation reign where either the second Victorian age ruled by the misogynist archetype finally concludes and the House of Windsor moves into the age of Aquarius or it does not and that would be regrettable. Then again, if not Catherine, HRH Prince George of Wales does possess a fourth number of 5, which looks to be one part libertine and nine parts scandals all around – that auspiciously is an Aquarian archetype if ever there was one.
History is a respecter of no one. History, indeed, will not be kind to Queen Elizabeth II. She embodied the Victorian misogynist to perfection. This was an approach that was fostered by HM Queen Mary, King Mother, who then groomed both her impressionable daughter-in-law, HM Queen Elizabeth, Queen Mother and her favoured granddaughter, Queen Elizabeth II. The second Victorian age will hopefully be well and truly concluded with the passing of Queen Elizabeth II. The emotional and mental wreckage that this Queen effected in the lives of the wives of Windsor can not be overstated. Truth be told, she was, in the true Victorian sense, the anti-feminist Queen. Women who were not in direct line of succession to the throne, simply did not matter to MLK Queen Elizabeth II. As a matter of fact, I would even go so far as to state that not since the reign of HM King Henry VIII did royal wives, Tudor wives, fare so badly as the wives of Windsor. HRH Princess Margaret, Countess Snowdon, Camilla Shand-Parker-Bowles, HM Queen Consort, Diana, Princess of Wales, Sarah, Duchess of York and Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex. They were all bullied, abused and even murdered, forced out by divorce or banishment by way of the Fleet Street abattoirs with the tacit consent and machinations of the courtiers and Queen Elizabeth II herself.
With her passing, the end of the saturnian, militarised, warring age of Capricorn passes within the British monarchy; though the transition will be chaotic, here’s hoping that the transition to the age of Aquarius within the British monarchy well and truly marks the end of the misogynistic second Victorian age.
Mere days after having relocated to Vancouver on a job transfer, I bumped into Ken, very late at night at the Club Vancouver bathhouse. Our spirits purred on rekindling positive past-life associations. Of course, he wanted to know if I would like to join him at his place, his lover was there, and thus began a magical relationship with two very beautiful souls. The drive through Stanley Park lazily drifted from bucolic and then into what proved the most magical journey to the top of Sentinel Hill. There their glass-walled living area, for sitting highest on the hill, gave a commanding view of Stanley Park beyond Lion’s Gate Bridge, the West End and the rest of Vancouver. At the time, I was staying at the funky Niagara Hotel a block away on the same street as the Club Vancouver on West Pender Street.
Readily, I accepted their offer, after a night of wanton passion and exquisite pleasure. I was having very bad luck in scoring a place that I wanted. I would call up and make appointments and finally on presenting, not having sounded a thing like I looked, Black, the place had just suddenly been rented out. I wanted to live in the West End and nowhere else. Finally, Les, Ken’s remarkably handsome of spirit lover found me a place when posing as my partner and getting the place into which we would be living, chiefly myself. The things one has to do at times to get by in what is supposed to be a civilised world. In the meantime, I spent almost three weeks living with them and it was both memorable and pleasurable.
Though they wanted me to live with them and take over their basement, which was the back of the house on the slope that made it anything but a basement, I declined the offer. I had moved out to Vancouver with my art collection and had had my home in storage since months after Merlin’s passing in November, 1989. I needed to breathe, to grow, to have my own space and walk about in open capes, naked in a pair of six-inch, black patent leather stilettos whilst listening and singing along to either Jazz or opera. Though, I moved out, I spent most free weekends with them, going for long hikes in North Vancouver’s foothills, walking around the seawall in Stanley Park, making dinners together and most of all, having great threesomes to the most glorious music.
Where Ken was soft, warm and laid back, Les was though diminutive, a towering force of nature. His was laughter that I had never nor since encountered. It was truly operatic and like great music, it was possessed of positively no bile or hostility. Les’s laughter was a pure, unfiltered distillation of his beauty of spirit. Learned and fluent in multiple languages, apart from being the chief librarian at UBC, University of British Columbia, he was also of note in Vancouver’s choral societies. Always there was great music, creating the just-so magical ambiance in their divine home. Nowhere in the universe was more harmoniously zen than a dinner party at Les and Ken’s Sentinel Hill home in November, when it had been raining almost imperceptibly for the last 3 to 6 days as is often the case in autumn. At such times, there would be mist rising off the crowns of Stanley Park’s stately Sitkas as autumn set in and winter was never going to be no less than 10 degrees Celsius.
Les knew a wealth of persons and many from Vancouver’s well-heeled Gay community; they were all music lovers. On Sunday mornings, after we had been in bed a tangle of arms, tongues and legs doing what wanton sinners do best, we would go for a hike in North Vancouver’s foothills. Ken and Les always said hello to everyone encountered on their walks. This one Sunday morning, there was a very handsome, dark-haired man, taller than Ken and me, who was ruggedly handsome in spades. As it was obvious that the attraction was mutual, he leaned in and kissed me then invited himself to dinner later; nothing is ever more sexy than confidence.
Pedro became a casual sexual partner; for one thing, he was legendarily hung like the famed Rubirosa if not more so and the girth on that bad boy… Lord Jesus. We saw each other whenever he happened to be in town. He had expat South Africans from Cape town, who lived on the Sunshine Coast to the west of West Vancouver whom he visited from time to time and another couple who lived in the British Properties; most definitely, that meant that I was neither invited along nor could give two fucks about being in the presence of such blasted dreck.
As I was then living in my own apartment in the West End, we would get together whenever he was in town and phoned wanting hot mansex as he liked calling it. His watch was the first time that I had seen a Panerai and loved it and he always smelled good; dark piercing eyes were free of guile as he forged into his late 50s with a sexual stamina foreign to most men 30 years his junior. Once after intense fucking, we talked afterwards and remarking about aspects of his colouring, I asked him how many people ever asked or even knew that he was of Black blood. According to him, no one ever had before though he shared that his maternal grandfather was light-skinned Black Brazilian with one of the many names that attest to Brazilian colourism.
That grandfather had been the result of a love affair of a local doctor and the family had gone to great lengths to protect his Black heritage and it was facilitated by his having been an only child. The fact that I had broached the subject had left him always calling whenever he was in town. He also found it widely fascinating that each time that he slept over that I awoke, grabbed a tape-recorder and began bringing forth my dreams; Pedro shared that it was a gift that his mother had and was always convinced that it came from her maternal grandfather’s bloodlines.
In late July, 1997, I was packing up my West End home with days to spare before moving to Montréal. At the time, Pedro and I sat around on the floor, propped up against boxes and trucks, looking at CNN as the funeral and all the circus around Gianni Versace’s murder unfolded over a couple of weeks. Pedro was talking about how dangerous persons like Andrew Cunanan, Gianni’s murderer, were. He thought that it was bad news to not stick within a tight circle of known and trusted friends and lovers. In any event, at the time, we were watching reports of Gianni’s funeral when Pedro began speaking of Diana, Princess of Wales. According to him, she was secretly seeing a very wealthy Arab and Muslim and it was likely that they would marry. The only thing, at the time, I remember about the names that he mentioned, was Khashoggi; apparently, whoever Diana was seeing, was the nephew of Adnan Khashoggi’s and his father was an obvious billionaire. Pedro said that not only would they be married but Diana, would definitely convert to Islam and bare him children as a way to get back at the royal family. Said he, they had deliberately given her a divorce settlement that was way less than she ought to have received. He said it was because The Queen was both cheap and spiteful.
This left Diana, Princess of Wales in a position, much like Jacqueline Kennedy, Pedro stated, of having to marry for money to maintain the lifetime to which she ought to be kept, much as Jacqueline marrying Aristotle Onassis. Pedro thought that The Queen was a vile, nasty person. Then Pedro said, sadly for Diana, they will never let her get away with it and definitely not twice. When asked what he meant by twice, said he, Diana realising that Charles did not love her and was with Camilla, had an affair with the King of Spain and it resulted in her firstborn not being fathered by Charles. They will sooner kill her than have her marry a Muslim, convert to Islam and set up a rival dynasty. Diana is daring enough… but also stupid enough, said he.
Exactly a week later, after watching the funeral with Pedro in my Haro Street, West End apartment, I was on a plane flying to Montréal and almost spat out my tea when the clown behind me requested of the attendant, “de thé, s’il te plait?” The male attended curtly shot back, “du thé, Madame…” Four years later, I was returned to Vancouver, chiefly to buy Haida art, attend pow wows, see Ken and Les and of course my oldest friend, who lives in Victoria and who in an illustrious past life was the painter, Sir Anthony van Dyck. It goes without saying, there were long nights of reckless abandon spent in Stanley Park, the world’s largest bathhouse au bois, getting lewdly carnal – as I had with Pedro; many were the times I found him there, not realising that he was in town. After having made some good art purchases, I spent time with Ken: Les was away at the time of my visit. When we dined one evening as I spent three days at their new North Vancouver condo and I mentioned how strange it was that just about everything that Pedro had said about Diana, Princess of Wales a month before her passing, was eerily almost prescient.
Ken told me that was because Pedro was the lovechild of a Spanish duke with a South American actress and he had also, for years, been the lover of another Spanish duke. Ken assured me if anyone would know high society gossip, it would most definitely be Pedro; also, said Ken, Pedro knows and always speaks the truth of high society goings on. Ken confirmed that Pedro had shared that Prince William was not fathered by Charles but King Juan Carlos, adding if anyone ought to know, it would be the very well-placed lover of a relative of the King’s. As we dined on a cold soup and the most exquisitely prepared salmon, Ken was a sublime cook, Ken said, ‘Of course, she was murdered. Diana, did not take her enemies as seriously as obviously they took the threat of her. Nothing will ever come of it. She was put down by The Queen and who is going to prosecute The Queen. “Precisely,” I replied. Ken, of course, I would learn from his lover, Les, when we first met was of Polish nobility and it showed in spades. Ken was not a snob but he was well-bred as West Indians say; more than that, after dinner Ken and I took to bed and he performed magic better than most. Holding his head in place, I writhed facedown in the pillow as Ken’s tongue feverishly kept pace with my twerking, pleasured arse.
Actions filmed betray the truth, every time… Just look at that blasted clueless man! There is not a sage soul who has ever incarnated, who would not have gotten into that carriage and stood there, open his chest, raise his chin and gallantly extend his gloved hand to his new bride and duchess, future Queen Consort, future King Mother then sit after she was sat. Instead, we get blissfully self-absorbed, selfish, totally unaware and conceited as all fuck, Bastard Bourbon Billy, sitting with his back to the horses, then not only does he completely ignore his new bride and sit, barely helping her in, but he keeps pushing her dress off his uniform when she was finally sat. Never once did he think to stand up and assist, welcome his wife into the carriage. And just remember, he is sixth mature, all persons living sixth mature lives are ever bereft of drama all of their own creation thanks to their self-karmic issues for one.
Just look at this woman, born with coalmining soot lining her lungs, which explains her addiction to cigarette-smoking, openly shunning a Black woman. This occurred during her first royal tour to a predominantly Black commonwealth nation, the first in her nearly twelve years of marriage. Lord only knows, it would not have happened if she and her racially predatory husband had not driven his brother and his Black wife out of the monarchy; they would have been tasked to undertake those utterly detestable tours to the wretched, overpopulated dirty people regions of the commonwealth. She recoils by flicking her hair and standing back when the Jamaican minister of sport reaches out to take her hand. She then defensively holds her hands together and actually pulls back her hands rather than take the cabinet minister’s hand. Catherine then reluctantly saves face, and still holds her fingers together, thereby allowing the forthright minister to take her left forearm. Next, she shoves her held left forearm at the cabinet minister when wrestling her arm away from the otiose, undesirable, Black thing’s sullied hand. None of this racist bigotry, as you can well imagine, was once mentioned, discussed, and afforded multiple articles by the vile British tabloid press.
Numbers never ever lie. Catherine’s energy body is 9. She would not be her bigoted self if she had not reacted that way to the Black Jamaican cabinet minister. Protocol my arse! You do not see her behaving that way towards Jews and she certainly didn’t stand there at the Buckingham Palace garden party and hold on to her umbrella with both hands whilst grinning her disingenuous, fuck you, fake-as-all-hell smile at ‘them.’
Just look at these blasted ninny goats; how quickly they fall into line and like the media hacks in North Korea, whatever BBB (Bastard Bourbon Billy) decrees when going nuclear, they readily change tune and do as commanded. His reign will be a nasty business, scandal-saturated to the gills, what with that fourth number of 5. If that woman, who seems incapable of reading the room and sensibly taken leave with Philip, were to live to be 106 years, which is not impossible, by then Charles will have long passed without having acceded and at age 50, you can damn well bet Bastard Bourbon Billy would gladly eliminate her and justify it as revenge for his mother, Diana, Princess of Wales, having been murdered by her. It is what royals do, what royals have always done. Needless to say, the somnambulant of the island realm would never question the obvious, as most definitely they did not at Diana’s assassination; instead they audaciously claimed that Prince Philip and the MI6 were the ones who had Diana murdered and not HM The Queen.
Just look at them: Dan Wootton and Piers Morgan, speaking truth about Princess Michael of Kent, at the announcement of Harry and Meghan’s engagement in November, 2017, which would come to pass as she stepped out wearing the blackamoor brooch the following month, yet there was no investigation into allegations of racism within the royal family or royal households.
Princess Michael of Kent wearing the blackamoor brooch is no less racist than if she had turned up that Christmas lunch at Buckingham Palace in blackface. Somehow, these fools the world over would like you to believe that there was nothing racist about the brooch and once again, Blacks are being overly sensitive and paranoid. When it pleases HM The Queen to act that she does, as when she tore her arse in the kingdom’s face and insisted that her lovechild, Andrew, escort her into Westminster Abbey at the service of thanksgiving for the life of the Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh.
So in a bid to kill the hot rumour of Billy going next-door for the real honey pot, the same blasted media sycophants who sang Meghan’s praises on the announcement of the engagement in 2017, Dan Wootton and Piers Morgan and others, course-corrected and were let loose on Meghan, Princess Henry of Wales by none other than William with the tacit agreement of HM The Queen. Naturally, The Queen would go along with the media smear of Meghan, Duchess of Sussex as all Sovereigns are above reproach and should never ever be sullied by British tabloid media; besides, HM The Queen had her own reasons.
Well off to the pound with you, BBB (Bastard Bourbon Billy) for raiding the Savage Rock chick inn. And wouldn’t you know it, just like his Bourbon father, Billy goes off and breeds with another man’s wife. That precisely is why he has been made to relocate to Adelaide ‘Dog Pound’ Cottage with only one of his two daughters in tow. Some consolation that; Bastard Bourbon Billy was not allowed to ditch the family embarrassment, Damien, for the Bastard Princess of Norfolk.
Who pray tell the fuck are you, to go pulling away from the hand of the Jamaican Minister of Sport and you think there is nothing for it? Soot-lunged arriviste! At the end of the day, we all shit and piss and crawl into a casket, by whatever means ours or someone’s doing. That said, you don’t like Black please, please go lie your tired arse on a beach somewhere in the Sun, get cancer and crawl the fuck in your casket. Ever, I will be most fuck-all indefatigable in my support and defence of Meghan, Duchess of Sussex and her family: Prince Henry, Duke of Sussex, Archie Harrison, Lilibet-Diana and Doria Ragland.
Not that she could give a rat’s arse, for there she was for all the world to see, being Big Ben Ainslie’s yacht girl. Whether being a goddamn bigot with the Jamaican minister of sport or openly flirting with the knighted yachtsman, she knows damn well that just like with Meghan, she will never be held to task for her conduct. After all, Meghan has been reduced to the most ridiculed, reviled, hated fugitive from justice for having had the temerity for marrying Diana, Princess of Wales’ son. To illuminate Meghan, Duchess of Sussex’s words as she articulated during her interview with Orpah: if you love Catherine, you don’t have to hate me and if you love me, you don’t have to hate her. Well, sadly, that is not how the White tribe’s collective psyche works. There always must be a threat to defend oneself against and there is always an evil in the world, which never ever could be oneself, regardless what the empirical evidence indicates.
To paraphrase Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, if you love Diana, Princess of Wales, you don’t have to hate William and Catherine; conversely, if you truly love Diana, Princess of Wales, you don’t have to hate Harry and Meghan.
Meghan has now emerged as the most reviled, hated and lied about woman in human history. The fact that she is Black is no coincidence and certainly, the fact that she had the audacity to call Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge a liar on Oprah, along with all her other enablers, was the declaration of war. Thus far, myopic British media have no awareness that their reach is not total in America and at the end of the day, when Meghan does speak her truth, very few Americans are going to want to countenance a royal family and Britons whom they damn well dispensed with 246 years ago.
Every day, there is another story, in which these venal arse-wipes… every single last one of them, go on bleating on and on about Meghan, telling every lie imaginable and inciting anti-Black racism, go on and on and blasted motherfucking on, making a liar, failure, clown of both Meghan and Harry. Fuck every last one of you. The easiest thing to do on this planet, is to tell a lie on someone Black. As ever, one will be believed and there will most certainly never be any repercussions for doing so. If there was ever a single possibility of finding oneself “Rushied,” every one of these snake-bellied bigots would never once move their hideous lizard lips to say a single word against Meghan… and Harry.
Honest to fucking god, what is little flat-arsed, soot-lunged, adulterer going to say that she is not racist and she never made Meghan cry? Yeah, right… just like she never refused to shake hands with some blasted bipedal simian bitch in Jamaica. Sooner or later, every dog will not only lick itself but will also eat its vomit and never ever, should you be either shocked or surprised by that. It is in the nature of dogs to do so, just as it is in the nature of far too many Whites to hate, lie and vilify Blacks for positively no fucking reason. Of course, they will ever say they have nothing to do with slavery and may even glibly apologise in their best insincere “fuck you, get over it” banter as when William did just that in Jamaica and again at the unveiling of the Windrush sculpture at Waterloo Station. It means absolutely nothing when you know that this is the same dolt who had the temerity to protest, the day after the Oprah interview aired, claiming, “We are very much not a racist family.” Seriously, were it not for the subjugation of Chinese and Indians and the gross enslavement of Black Africans, Britons today would be no better off that miserably poor-as-fuck Albanians.
A strong woman walks and does more than survive, she damn-well thrives. Most definitely, she does not keep breeding, to keep an adulterous man and thereby end up with superfreak numero un, Damien, that’s who. That’s right, Karma does not lie. You no more want to be near the ailing Queen by moving to Adelaide Cottage, than does The Queen want your fake arse anywhere near her. You are both equally treacherous and despise each other in equal measure, the world has long seen this and even before Meghan appeared on the scene.
As that blasted island kingdom is clearly overrun by semi-feral hyenas en chaleur, it has long become evident to anyone not obsequiously rimming the royals’ collective arse that the predators have moved from fox hunting to nigger hunting with fever-pitched intensity; when is being racially predatory not sport for Whites who choose to be so focussed and engaged? Everyone of these pretentious boors are ever ready to gnarl and bark at Meghan. Just look at that god fugly oxygen thief, talking shit about why give them (Meghan and Harry) oxygen? How about you crawl the fuck in your casket. People talk and all she ever was for many a Hollywood moon, was just another casting couch whore. Don’t recall her having received an Oscar. She has been more jizzed on than a urinal cake in Penn Station during cruisy evening rush hour. Let’s make it perfectly fucking clear, any jackass and his shadow is ever ready to openly hate Blacks, please know that we are not all prepared to sit by idly and suffer your hideous arse or bullshit. If for a nanosecond people do not think that this constant open animus against Meghan, Duchess of Sussex is not racially motivated and, more importantly, that it does not affect the lives of Blacks going about their daily business, you are truly not focussed in this reality. Rimming Warren Beatty like a drunken manwhore at a bathhouse and where pray tell the fuck were you in Shampoo or Heaven Can Wait That’s right, just another cumrag at a Hollywood circle jerk. All that pouting and vamping for just as many decades as Liz and it never got you a blasted Oscar. Just like Princess Blackamoor, both raising your rabid rear right leg and whizzing par-fucking-tout. Please just stop with the BS about Diana told you when exiting Harry’s Bar that she just had lunch with the most boring king in Europe; either you know bugger all or it was another attempt at throwing shade. Either way, what does it matter, your you-know-what smells like a crate of rotten oranges and your shadow is beyond bored, having to suffer you being a fugitive from your casket 1.5 decades and counting. Go on, take a clue from Lilibet, stop stealing oxygen and crawl the fuck in your casket. Not a single goddamn acting award because there are no awards for casting couch whores and a damn Golden Globe has as much cache as a frigging BAFTA.
This woman got her arse booted from an American talk-show where all she ever did was cuss off Meghan in her typically racially predatory, poseur Toff British bully persona. Just won’t do. For one, one of her co-hosts was Julie Chen Moonvez, whose husband, Les Moonvez was the CEO of CBS. These things matter and the whole culture of Americans associated with showbiz, though both Moonvez were no longer associated with the show and network by the time of Osborne’s departure, it still had an impact. The fact is, Sharon and Ozzy became social pariahs as Americans simply have no countenance for Britons playing holier than thou and treating Americans like crap.
Yet another displaced otiose Briton, Cara Delevingne squatting in America as though either welcome and doing nothing more than taking jobs from Americans. Just look at this blasted crack whore and you can bet your bottom dollar for not being Black, she has managed never to have had a run in with the local constabulary.
I began writing this blog as the 25th anniversary of Diana, Princess of Wales assassination approached and because it had me revisit that time leading up to her death, when I was relocating from Vancouver to Montréal in late July, 1997. I also wanted to address the unrelenting, racially predatory hunt of Meghan from all quarters and watching Vanessa Feltz that smug sow, who seems so pleased as muddied swine that she was getting Black cock that she just couldn’t help turning her racial hatred in Meghan’s direction. First of all, no honey, fucking a nigger makes you a goddamn nigger; in case you’ve not noticed niggers and Blacks have nothing in common but what would you know? As if? There is not enough money on this planet to pay a Black man to piss on you… blasted sow. Thankfully, Holly Willoughby took her to task as she sat her fat, flat arse all over Meghan’s name. Her mea culpa of sorts occurred days later as she broke into the most transparent display of crocodile tears as she announced on-air the passing of HM The Queen. Nigger please! The other trigger was that washed up casting cough whore spewing off; how ungrateful are this ever burgeoning ghetto of Brits in Hollywood that one then has to be reminded of their stinking racial animus towards Blacks when the casket fugitive mouths off.
Here’s is the link to a dream of HM The Queen’s passing on the eve of HM King Charles III’s birthday in 2021. With The Queen’s passing, especially so after HM King Charles III’s speech to the kingdom, you could sense that there was a deep vibrational shift begun within the realm.
With The Queen’s long overdue departure, things can now open up and with Catherine and William now becoming Prince and Princess of Wales, they don’t need any longer to feel the gross insecurity and prejudice that saw them run to the Fleet Street abattoirs and have Meghan slaughtered at the tabloid altars. Some strange white voodoo that… but it damn well works that’s for frigging sure.
The Grand Canal With Santa Maria della Salute Looking East Towards the Bacino
Oil on Canvas
50 x 80
Provenance: Royal Collection Trust, St. James’s Palace
Will you just get a load of that Canaletto in St. James’s Palace throne room? Phenomenal!
As HM King Charles III made it clear, Harry and Meghan are focussed overseas. So please by all means, now that you are Prince and Princess of Wales with just as fractious a marriage as Charles and Diana’s were, please do shine and show the world what megastars you are as you are, after all, royal rather than celebrities. Get out there and show the world your uneclipsed love; maturing into expected titles is not a sign of a successful marriage. William will always cheat and as Diana and her adultery were outed in a get-back by Charles, don’t expect Catherine’s whoring with Ben to be touched with a titanium javelin anytime soon. That’s the really sad part because thanks to the iron-fisted reign of Elizabeth over the family rather than firm, Windsor men sadly are all castrati in varying degrees.
I do believe that had HM The Queen exited the stage long ago, likely before Meghan’s arrival on the scene, ‘Megxit’ would have turned out differently or simply not have eventualised. As it is, yet again, here was another example of The Queen turning her back and not giving a damn, stubbornly she even dug in her heels as if to protest the claim of racism against Princess Michael of Kent by deliberately having her attend the Sussexes wedding and this after having Angela Kelly, snubbing Meghan for a tiara fitting. Then on their return to court for the Jubilee celebrations, Princess Blackamoor was sat close to the former Prince and Princess of Wales (Charles & Camilla) and the current Prince and Princess of Wales, (William and Catherine). Go on, go run up and down the planet, grinning your best “fuck you, die” smile with HM King Charles III, serving as new peace envoy.
As the seating at St. Paul’s Cathedral during the Platinum Jubilee revealed, it was all about HM The Queen’s stubbornness. She saw nothing wrong in what HRH Princess Michael of Kent did in wearing the blackamoor brooch to her Christmas lunch in December, 2017. As far as The Queen saw it, Meghan was offensively ungrateful. £35m spent on the Sussexes’ wedding and an expectation of conducting the overseas commonwealth tours that the then Cambridges had no desire of undertaking. Look at Catherine, HRH Princess of Wales in the preceding video. She turns around, sees where the Sussexes are sat and says wow, which was a comment on the stern impertinence of HM The Queen.
Do not ever underestimate the power of Meghan, Duchess of Sussex and her astute awareness of her power. Her appearance on Oprah was all strategy. Meghan plays the long game. When she mentioned the threat of the slimmed down monarchy and Archie and Lilibet not being afforded their HRH status when The Queen passes and the Prince of Wales becomes HM King Charles III, it was an implicit threat. Meghan at any time has the right and can and will reveal what really went down that precipitated their departure and this the monarchy fears more than anything else. As long as the tabloid media keep braying and vilifying her and Harry, only steels her resolves.
Meghan had to mention that as it was a threat to the family and Sovereign. If HM The Queen were to pass after Charles, which has not transpired, Meghan was making it clear that she fully expected William would never afford her children this honour. Also, should Charles survive his mother, there was no way that he would want the devastation of Meghan going nuclear with her truth and not the lies proffered by the media on the HM The Queen and Cambridges’ behalf. Well, Charles is king and her children are now HRH Prince Archie of Sussex and HRH Princess Lilibet Diana of Sussex, the first royal princess of the UK born in America.
So just as I was wrapping up this blog as it is well into September, the car pulled up at the Cambridge Gates at Windsor Castle and out stepped TRH Prince & Princess of Wales accompanied by TRH Duke & Duchess of Sussex. Naturally, Camilla Tominey who broke the story back in November, 2018 of Meghan having made Catherine cry, which began the white-hot opening of Nigger hunting season, was called on by News 9, Australia to comment on the Wales, Sussex Windsor Castle, long walk walkabout.
HM The Queen has died and now a new era, a course correction is begun.
I rather love this commentary by ITV’s Chris Ship and company. They have always been deferential and professional in their coverage of the Sussexes.
At the end of the day, this reunion and public display of entente cordiale could not have occurred whilst HM The Queen lived because she was damn set on avenging herself of Meghan, whom she perceived as truly ungrateful. Meghan took a stance and was right to have done so. There is positively no way that royal householders were not being racially predatory towards Meghan as Princess Blackamoor gave them license to be openly racist towards Meghan. Fact of the matter is, when you have wronged someone, it bears heavily on your conscience and it is never the wronged person who makes an overture seeking resolution and restitution of your integrity, which had been violated. William texted Harry because William and his team fed the Sussexes to the Fleet Street abattoirs to protect the former Cambridges’ marital scandals. It was a betrayal and has mightily upset Harry as much as it has because he was wronged. She is an American. She is Black and they will all of them, household staffers, be rude towards here. Even Angela Kelly was in no way reprimanded by HM The Queen when she did not show for a tiara fitting with Meghan during build-up to royal wedding in May, 2018.
This is HM The Queen rudely dismissing the then Duke & Duchess of Cambridge because she damn well felt like it. Obviously, neither the then, HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales could have acted as they wished, along with the then Duke & Duchess of Cambridge, with regards to the Sussexes, as long as The Queen was being punishingly cruel towards the Sussexes. I always thought it odd how, despite outward appearances both Harry & Meghan spoke rather highly of The Queen. Whatever HM The Queen was during her prime, at the time of Meghan’s marriage into the family/firm, The Queen was older, stubborn and likely already sick with bone cancer as has been disclosed on her passing. And please don’t blame Meghan for fuck-all anything. When The Queen turned 90 in 2016, she suddenly developed a large sore on one of her shins; it was a going concern for just about everyone. That clearly was an early sign of her cancer, which was long before Meghan appeared on the scene.
This Lucian Freud oil on canvas perfectly encapsulates HM The Queen. All the world’s a stage and the longer you stay onstage without properly reading the room, you soon turn Icarus and lose altitude. Soon or later, if you stay too long in any game, you end up looking like Wayne Newton and just as clueless. Old, grasping and cancerous, Elizabeth was less patient to keep up the façade of the sweet, little old lady with the heart of gold – I never bought it. Nonetheless, when you are damn cheap as all hell, look what pittance Diana, Princess of Wales was afforded in her divorce settlement, you are going to be really pissed when you spend £35m on a goddamn bride only to have her runaway within two years. Indeed, you are going to be pretty damn pissed, and feed her to the Fleet Street abattoirs, you damn well will. Truth be told, in the parlance of the deposed, buffoon Semite, Meghan proved the most expensive prize paid for a slave, who then turned around and ran away in under two years. Goddamn it, that kind of money, Elizabeth can justify spending on the gee-gees but damn well not a bloody slave. Meghan was bought to work the Pickaninny circuit of the predominantly Black commonwealth nations – heaven only knows the 9-centric former Cambridges now Waleses were intent on doing no such thing.
The Queen racked with cancer then showed her hand by having Princess Blackamoor sat close to Charles & Camilla, William & Catherine and ahead of the former Wessexes now Duke & Duchess of Edinburgh. Indeed, there were the Duke & Duchess of Sussex sat directly ahead of Major Jonathan Thompson, The Queen’s equerry as spy or whatever, who temptingly kilted is now HM King Charles’s equerry – oh what savoury tea this. Just look at the racial predatory hyena in the blue pillbox hat, ain’t nothing like the height of Nigger hunting season… vraiment.
Not only were the Sussexes booed at St. Paul’s Cathedral in June, 2022 but it was tough watching Meghan being denied by the locals along the long walk at Windsor Castle on September 10, 2022; they refused to either acknowledge her or shake her hand. Then the most incredible thing occurred, Amelka asked Meghan for a hug and stated after to media that she wanted the Duchess to know that she was welcome in the United Kingdom.
Duke & Duchess of Sussex’s parting so long to his Commander-in-Chief.
Well Darling Elizabeth, look at that, you proved human after all and crawl into your casket you most damn well have. Well, guess what, you already conceded defeat by the spiteful seating and walk of shame at St. Paul’s Cathedral at the Platinum Jubilee thanksgiving service, which cancer and or cowardice had you miss out on, as Harry and Meghan were sat as they were and that was that… all that over £35m. Of well, guess what, Meghan won and will be sat at Westminster Abbey, on Monday, September 19, 2022, alive and thriving.
Well, you fail to adapt and move with the times and before you know it, audience admiration fast turns to ridicule. No! It was not just a damn brooch, for crying out loud, it was a racist attack. To have done nothing, was to have condoned both Princess Blackamoor’s actions and that of the royal householders. Where was the investigation into racism from minor royals and royal household staffers?As is obvious, Rihanna was not amused by the blackamoor scandal and the way it was unsatisfactorily addressed and just like that, you, Elizabeth were removed as constitutional monarch of Barbados. Indeed, you were not the only Queen.
Gerald Clayton in Concert July, 2021
As ever, life is like a flying dream; if you look down, you’re fucked. Enjoy the ride and fear no one!
All sevens can see beyond the veil and they are always without exception very refined, reserved and do not do uncouth nor drama. Why is that you ask? At the core of their being, such persons are callously amoral – they do not care… they do not empathise. So then let’s peer beyond the gullible small-islanders’ inability to look beyond the rigorously maintained façade of the major players of the BRF and, in particular, relative to the Duke & Duchess of Sussex.
Diana, Princess of Wales 1961 <O> 1997
Why would HM The Queen take so long to present after Diana’s death? She did not give a damn, the woman was an inconvenience and she was not going to honour her by appearing before the little people, who clearly loved Diana above all others in the kingdom. She detested Diana. She also had to come to terms with the fact that Diana was eliminated and clearly a lot of atoning had to be done to eventually face the public. Her appearance with the windows of Buckingham Palace open was a cold, ugly affair. Don’t ever forget, PM Tony Blair had to beg HM The Queen to come forward and address the very pained public.
Apart from this utterly saccharine speech, there were moments captured of HM The Queen outside Buckingham Palace on the family’s return from Balmoral. Whilst Charles, William and Harry attended The Queen and HRH Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh, the Queen’s reaction to the grieving subjects was a cold nasty affair. There was one point where someone reached out to her in their moment of grief and despair at Diana’s death and she simply shuddered and moved on with a smile that was the fakest most mechanical movement of facial muscles imaginable. Regardless what she said in that speech, this is the same woman who did absolutely nothing as Diana emotionally and mentally fell apart whilst the rest of the BRF and staffers abused Diana. Of course, it goes without saying, Diana was struggling with the fact that she was not loved and they all knew that Charles and Camilla were true lovers – especially if that child sequestered in Australia is the adulterers’. Nonetheless, they could, none of them: HM Queen Elizabeth, The Queen Mother, Charles, Philip, Anne and the entire ghoulish cast, have given two fucks how mightily Diana suffered. Tough!
Regardless what one may think of Mohamed Al-Fayed; there is very little to suggest that the man was just a grieving father. He had the means to have had the truth of the matter rigorously investigated. The classist, racist British establishment and the BRF did not want the disgrace, as they perceived it, of the mother of a future king of the realm being wedded to an Arabic, moneyed Moslem whom they thought of as being too brash and having bought his way in, when in fact he was not especially wanted. There was a price to pay.
Dodi and Diana had two numbers in common, 8 & 7. For both of them, theirs was a 7 in the fourth position; this placement of 7 is more often than not the sign of public assassination – and not just merely assassination. Numbers do not lie; Mohamed knows the truth. Besides, as a father, he would have had countless dreams after Dodi’s passing in which he would have been enlightened as to what really took place and who the source of the assassination order would have been. The Duke of Lancaster would not have been unaware.
Just remember, what is past, is present, is future. Everything that the Sussexes are being put through, is precisely what Mohamed Al-Fayed experienced from the British Establishment, aristocracy and BRF. Of course Mohamed Al-Fayed certainly had no qualms about telling them all to go to hell and did, as well he should have. They crucified his son for having the temerity to seek to join the BRF by proxy.
They would have been spied on by Mi5 and CIA and obviously, the very day that Dodi went out and purchased a 700$k engagement ring for a known expectant, Diana, Princess of Wales, they incredulously perished in a car crash. Of course, Diana survived; however, she was not meant to have survived so she was then put down. It takes a copious dosage of morphine or whatever else they did, to have Diana finally stop being a goddamn pain in the arse. Never forget that she had provoked their ire by producing a firstborn with decidedly Bourbon markers. In all of this, of course, was Mohamed Al-Fayed whose numerology coupled with his wealth, assured that he did not give a damn and called it as he saw it, which is to say that he was and remains spot on about what went down.
Diana’s appalling treatment by the senior royals, of which HM The Queen was keenly aware, was savage in the extreme. One should not be in the least surprised that Meghan, a Black American self-made woman with more charisma, intellect and eloquence than the slovenly broodmare who gave birth to the blasted freak, Prince Damien, was racially preyed on and driven out of the kingdom. Good fucking god, how in high hell do you explain that hideous woman, Princess Michael of Kent being at Meghan’s wedding after she had worn the blackamoor brooch to The Queen’s Christmas lunch, 2017. She then was sat closer to the Prince & Princess of Wales (Camilla rightfully should be called the Princess of Wales because she literally cannibalised Diana, Princess of Wales; calling her Duchess of Cornwall is too good – she should be labelled as what she is) and the Duke & Duchess of Cambridge at The Queen’s platinum jubilee service of thanksgiving at St. Paul’s Cathedral on June 03, 2022 than even the Wessexes, whilst the Sussexes were sat across the aisle and behind the Wessexes and next to the disgraced Duke of York’s two daughters and their admirable spouses. All this would have been with the tacit approval of HM The Queen, yet I certainly hope that the Sussexes do not see the monarch as being in any way an ally of theirs; she is not.
Per the ubiquity of a fly on shit, there has been Princess Michael of Kent aka Princess Blackamoor, partout. She was forever holding holier-than-thou court in the royal box at Wimbledon 2022 as if the point needed to be stressed further, beyond the seating at St. Paul’s Cathedral on June 03, 2022. But lapping it up in spades, she most certainly was. Less than a month prior, there was Lord Snowdon, who sat like the Kents, close to the Cambridges and next to that aesthetically challenged buffoon with the mannish spouse, and on leaving St. Paul’s Cathedral, made a point of completely ignoring the Sussexes as they waited at the top of the stairs for their ride. Snowdon, at the time, snickered and went to chat up the clown, who had been seen embraced and his loyalty assured by William recently photographed for effect, hugging him, as they smugly telegraphed to the world their collective snub of the Sussexes. Of course, there sat Snowdon in the royal box at Wimbledon, who had been found being intimately same-sexed, which male royal never does, sat next to that blasted classist boor, minor TV thespian and snob, legs crossed and his mangina’s anal verge likely just-so softly plush for being filler-saturated. Of course, it goes without saying, his plush bussy was also likely waxed and bleached. Charmant. Sooner or later, Princess Blackamoor will crawl the frig into her casket and when she does, she most definitely will rot the fuck in hell with Idi Amin sat on her god-fugly face – the vile racist swine. Rule number 1, you don’t like Black people… fuck you! As Merlin once remarked, “What good is Black rage if it’s kept in a Ming vase on the mantel?”
As if it were not enough to drive home the fact that the Cambridges are really hyper-obsessed with putting that BBD – no, not big Black dick, Black Bitch/Diva, Meghan, in her place, Catherine just had to invite Martina Hingis to the royal box. Not as if she had won multiple grand slams at Wimbledon or something, like the Williams sisters.
Of course, Hingis was notorious back in the day to have alleged that there was no racism in tennis and she had no clue what the Williams sisters and their father were going on about. Always, the racists give themselves away by readily opining about the non-existence of racism.
Princess Blackamoor’s daughter who always looks like the sporty buffoon’s very mannish wife’s twin brother who’s recently fully transitioned. Surprise, surprise, though Princess Blackamoor feigned approval, in the end her ambiguous-gendered spawn came to her senses and married a perfectly sensible WASP, rather than the Dravidian, who though not Black, is not White.
Of course, the only one who was both elegant and the epitome of class, was the very stylish, acerbic Olivia Bentley of Made in Chelsea, who obviously does not hang around with grifters whose baby daddy has of late been dropping soap and being somebody’s bitch. This was at the recent service of thanksgiving for a loved royal confidante.
So strange this tale and, of course, whatever you want to believe of what was said to have actually occurred, you are free to so choose. Asking for cigarettes is certainly telling.
Here’s a little insight into HM The Queen’s amoral 7thness; she returned to London from Malta, gave birth to HRH Princess Anne, Princess Royal then returned to Malta sans new-born mere days later. Naturally, it was the nannies’ duty to care for the new-born. Why should any Queen have to be a mere mother, indeed. Back to Malta she returned to her favoured stallion.
Of course, 8 years later after some obvious froideur, along comes what would in her tenth decade prove her own nightmare and Jeffrey Epstein’s prized blackmail, sex-crazed royal addict, whose second offspring bears an uncanny resemblance to the much favoured steed, Porchy.
As with Mohamed Al-Fayed, the Windsors and their organisation have got all the power to act like a unchallenged crime syndicate. Just as Mohamed was dismissed by the media as being a cuckoo, grieving old man for asking pertinent questions at the death of his son, Dodi Al-Fayed and his new love, Diana Princess of Wales, so too they have managed to have Meghan, Duchess of Sussex eviscerated in the media. Too bad for them though that they do not control American media and Meghan is an American and has power players in her corner who will always matter. Just look at the power of the Windsors. Lady Colin Campbell has never been able to write a biography about the Duke & Duchess of Cambridge. Obviously, this is because Prince William, a tempestuous stubborn customer, has made it perfectly clear to all the royal rota hacks and more importantly all the heads of the book publishing houses that there is to be no permission or approval of biographies of either him or his dull-as-dishwater wife with an equally violent temper.
Eleven years into their marriage and the only biography to have been written about either the Duke or Duchess of Cambridge has been “William at 40″ by Robert Jobson. Lady Colin Campbell writing her scathing tomes on the Sussexes is all about income stream for her. In the long term, she is hoping that this puts her in favour with the Cambridges, who see her for the gutter-sniping fraud that she is. Just think about it, the Poundland Countess, with her very own castle, has never written a book about Camilla, Charles or William and Catherine. How free is the press in the kingdom, if one cannot write about some members of the BRF? As such, it is a land of flagrant propaganda and little else as the pantomime rolls from one generation to the next as it has from one millennium to the next.
Moreover, when it pleases the Windsors and the firm to be oversaturated in the media, there is always a sacrificial lamb proffered. Diana was never liked by her husband, even less so by his mother, who knew all along that she was a convenient cover for Charles’s dalliances and Australian-disposed baggage, all of which would be conveniently covered up with Diana being skewered in the media. There are two things that the modern BRF do with predicable élan: royal weddings, which sell the fairy story and then the scandals follow thereafter. Charles and Diana, the wedding of the century, followed soon thereafter by Sarah, Duchess of York being fed to the Fleet Street abattoirs. Of course, as we have now come to see, “Fergie” was the initially proffered lamb, as it turns out, it was so much smoke and mirrors to cover the Wales’ toxic sham of a marriage, which was coming fast undone.
There is a part of me that secretly likes this woman because at the end of the day, she is Jamaican and there is only one word which does not exist in Jamaican patois… shy! Guaranteed, you will laugh loudest when with Jamaicans!
Lady Colin Campbell Books:
Publication Order of Standalone Novels
It’s been pulped and I’ve a copy
Publication Order of Non-Fiction Books
Lady Colin Campbell’s Guide to Being a Modern Lady
Diana in Private
The Royal Marriages
A Life Worth Living
The Real Diana
Daughter of Narcissus
The Untold Life of Queen Elizabeth, The Queen Mother
The Queen’s Marriage
People of Colour and the Royals
Meghan and Harry
Voilà! Not a single biography of adulterers Charles & Camilla. So too none of Prince Philip, HM The Queen, HRH Princess Anne, Princess Royal and, of course, none of either William and Catherine, together or alone. How in high hell can the most deliciously scathing biographer of the realm not once have put pen to paper and written from Porchy to Rose Hanbury and all the juicy tea.
Furthermore, where is that biography of Prince Philip and Penelope, star-crossed lovers? Indeed, Penelope Knatchbull, Countess Mountbatten of Burma was not only well-sat at the Westminster Abbey service of thanksgiving for HRH Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh but also, she was the only non-Windsor family member in attendance at HRH Prince Philip’s funeral in April 2021, ‘trusted confidante’ of the late prince as she was… take a sip dears. God only knows, it is not as if, Lady Colin Campbell has another 50 years of living and writing to go; certainly, the recent passing of the elegant Lily Safra should have given her pause. Stop inciting hatred for dollars on YouTube and get to writing! Just look at the wealth of material: Porchy, Penelope, Camilla, Tampon-Prince, their Australian-sequestered love child… and obvious others.
Speaking of biographies… I will not include herein a picture of his fucking ugly face; however, suffice it to say, no other group are possessed of need to incite anti-Black racism as are some Jews, in particular Ashkenazi. Of course, such persons are always, as is the cultural norm, readily believed and their word seen as divine law. As I am Afro-Sephardic, I could not give a goddamn whom so fuck-all takes offence. This man has written a scathing biography, which is lauded in all quarters because god only knows, not only does he clearly walk on water but he obviously farts Skittles.
15/9/1984 Rat Henry, Duke of Sussex 6.6.1 = 4
4/8/1981 Rooster Meghan, Duchess of Sussex 4.3.4 = 11
6/5/2019 Pig Archie Harrison 6.2.5 = 4
4/6/2021 Ox Lilibet Diana 4.1.6 = 11
In numerology there are no lies… as in dreams. There is perfect synergy between Harry’s and Archie’s numbers, just as the same is true between Meghan’s and Lilibet Diana’s numbers. According to one of many lies being peddled by this charlatan biographer, who is just loving inciting more hatred for Meghan for having stepped out of her pre-ordained line – some people – Meghan could not have been born in 1981 and clearly is possibly as old as 46. Well, I have run the numbers and each child will numerologically have at least 2 numbers as the parent with whom they have a parenting bond. Obviously, as with Archie & Harry, Lilibet Diana would have to have been born with master number 11 like Meghan for there to be that harmony. Also, Lilibet Diana would be born with master numbers when it is so closely bonded a family; it is literally them against the Windsor’s world, which is considerable.
4/8/1981 Rooster Meghan Markle 4.3.4 = 11
4/8/1975 Rabbit Meghan Markle 4.3.7 = 5
4/8/1976 Dragon Meghan Markle 4.3.8 = 6
4/8/1977 Snake Meghan Markle 4.3.9 = 7
4/8/1978 Horse Meghan Markle 4.3.1 = 8
4/8/1979 Goat Meghan Markle 4.3.2 = 9
4/8/1980 Monkey Meghan Markle 4.3.3 = 1
The only numbers which makes sense vis-à-vis Lilibet Diana’s and Harry’s, for that matter, are those of August 4, 1981, year of the Rooster. That leaves Meghan with master numbers of 11, which always denotes a life of destiny and such people are incredibly astute, come fully prepared for the journey ahead. If Archie and Harry are so simpatico, then clearly Lilibet Diana would have to be equally simpatico with her mum, Meghan and that she is to a mum born, August 4, 1981. End of discussion. Of course, like Orly Taitz herr Schmuckface just knows that for having his head so far up god’s ass, he speaks/writes the truth. Well, of course, the children do not exist; they are invisible, Meghan was never pregnant, it was a pillow. And on and on and fuck-all, on and on.
Of course, he it was who had some rather bigoted choice observations, unsolicited, of President Barack Obama. But enough about vile buffoons, biting off infinitely more than they can chew – the Skittles-farting clown. This is the thing about some Jews, they are always being given a pass when they are racially predatory towards Blacks. And this is where BRF-sanctioned, character assassination biographer du jour, who has already been called out for having appropriated persons quotes and used as sources and warped their quotes in his vendetta against the schwarze shiksa, proves himself just another anti-Black racist. As though, only Jews are supposed to have ever experienced persecution, just as with Tina Brown (not Jewish), Mr. Schmuckface writes a 300-page plus book and never once mentions Princess Michael of Kent’s blackamoor brooch, which has been the biggest exposé of the racism to which Meghan, Duchess of Sussex was subjected. Since then as if to drive home the point, that blasted flat-arsed, hideous Rhino-legged racist swine, Princess Blackamoor, has been upfront and prominently placed at every opportunity.
Honest to frigging god, do you think that herr Schmuckface would have written a biography about a Jewish fiancée of Harry’s, who had been subjected to anti-Semitism when a minor royal showed up at HM The Queen’s Christmas lunch, wearing a swastika brooch and claiming not to have known that it was offensive and in this hyperbole, claiming that it was a Hindu cross brooch. Though it is true and even an Ethiopian and Navajo cross, we all, the world over, know that a damn swastika is a symbol of hideous anti-Semitism. Herr Schmuckface is a vicious coward; he knows that all he has to do, is go out there and say that Meghan made Catherine cry and that settles it. He is after all a Jew – it must be so. He is a damn bigot and a liar. The proof that Catherine made Meghan cry is validated by her behaviour at the March 2020 Commonwealth Service of Thanksgiving at Westminster Abbey. Catherine had been rude to Meghan in the lead up to the royal wedding about the bridesmaids’ tights. Catherine is an insecure woman, who was threatened by Meghan’s greater charisma, intellect and eloquence. The proof that Catherine made Meghan cry, is validated when she came up to take her seat at Westminster Abbey and though Meghan waved her right wrist that was placed on a her lap as she pointedly smiled at Catherine, Catherine refused to look at or acknowledge Meghan. At that point, the world was convinced that Meghan had made Catherine cry, which is all the more reason, Catherine deliberately ignored Meghan to perpetuate the lie, thanks to Camilla Tominey’s exclusive warped version, in the Daily Telegraph in November 2018, of what occurred after the Sussexes’ successful first tour in the South Pacific.
Most of all, Catherine is a White female who happens to be prejudiced towards Blacks – energy body of 9 – and she does not give a damn that it came to this. She will be Queen Consort and has given birth to the future sovereign… she does not have to give a damn what anyone thinks. To hell with the yank imposter and a Black one at that. Catherine, William for that matter, favour Jews and she has time and again demonstrated unease around Blacks, though, at this point, she has been made aware that optics are more important than personal bias. End of discussion.
Just like that yenta, Angela Whiny-whatshername, and Tina Brown, there must never be any discussion of anti-Black racism with regards the BRF’s senior and minor titled royals. They have gleefully torn their flat arses in the negro from Compton’s face since that day in December 2017 and as recently as the thanksgiving service at St. Paul’s Cathedral on June 03, 2022, yet there is no connection to racism neither are the BRF racist. Just like Tina and the two Jews in question, the time is long past to stop cutting HM The Queen slack. She has been aware of this hideous racism all along and done nothing; indeed, it has gone on like a bad joke month after month, after month. The best way to condone repugnant behaviour is to ignore it and do nothing about it. Herr Schmuckface has lied about who made whom cry and he has a serious credibility issue when he runs his ugly head off in excess of 300 pages and never once mentions the blackamoor brooch; talk about a clear-cut case of bias. To hell with the lot of these BRF-bought or purely sycophantic biographers.
Listen to Catherine in the background; in the original version – long scrapped from YouTube – she accuses the amateur photographer of having stalked them and seen recently doing so. All this triggers William who is her task companion as well as the ordinal partner in their pairing. The poor man doesn’t stand a chance, she said that he was there and that is that. Of course, it behoves William to at all times have security tracking with them… anywhere… at all times. There are no excuses. William sounds so vulnerable and pained; it is also an image of the Cambridges that must not be seen. When you are going to go to such great lengths to demonise your own brother and his Black wife; you cannot have it both ways. At the risk of stating the obvious, it takes two hands to clap.
Now we come to the modern age, and time to throw another fairy story wedding. William was finally presented to the realm and as stupid can only be expected to do stupid, there was he got into the carriage and sat with his back to the horses and then remained sat whilst his new bride entered the carriage. Neither his brother nor father sat their arse down until their new wife was sat in the carriage – no uncouth, unaware dolts, Charles & Harry. Of course, from day one, the Cambridges openly rowed in full view of everyone on the ride back to Buckingham Palace and again on the balcony, they hissed at each other. Far be it from the blind to have taken notice of anything so obvious as truth. Of course, this wedding occurred long after the inconvenience of Diana was dealt with once and for all and she was put down… truly off to the abattoir she was sent and conveniently so in a tunnel where none of the many street level surveillance cameras could have caught anything.
Now the fairy story needed to be updated and the Windsors prove themselves progressive and inclusive; the Commonwealth after all is not exclusively Caucasian. It is one thing to talk the talk but you have got to be able to walk the walk. As HRH Prince Charles and Doria Ragland returned to the quire after having signed the registry, there was HRH Prince William openly ridiculing Meghan and her culture before her mother, Doria. This he also did before his embarrassed father, the Hollywood players across the quire aisle, HM The Queen and the entire world. When the Sussexes proved too popular and eclipsed the Cambridges, the bigoted Cambridges had to sabotage the Sussexes. As in the past, after a fairy story wedding, time for scandal. Without a sacrificial lamb delivered to the Fleet Street abattoirs, the pantomime and the Windsors lose their lustre… their very appeal. What better way to annul the very existence of the Duchess of Sussex and her marriage into the BRF, start a campaign to vilify and demonise her. Of course, though not dissimilar to North Korea in its jaundiced coverage of the Windsors, the Fleet Street abattoirs keep offering too much grizzle and shank. All this, as was the case with Sarah, Duchess of York and her fall from grace, is to cover the scandals within the thorny marriage of the Cambridges.
Interesting isn’t; then again, there are no coincidences. The official portrait of the Cambridges has Catherine wearing a green dress. The night that actor, Will Smith slapped comedian Chris Rock, his wife, Jada Pinkett Smith was wearing a green dress with yards of train. Green is the negative colour of 9/toxic energy; Jada has four 9s in her numerology. Catherine was not comfortable, sat next to Meghan in the royal box at Wimbledon and thus wore green and had her sister-in-law sat between her and her sister, Pippa Middleton-Matthews. Persons with 9 are more toxic, bitchy and vile for wearing green. Catherine studied art history and she knows the vibration that clothes and jewellery effect; she is subtle, vicious but does not go unnoticed by those with eyes to see. Green, of course, represents nature, life, moss, arboreal splendour and its negative aspect is reflected in all things that are venomous, acidic, toxic.
What these sorry saps did not factor into the equation, was Meghan collecting her rock, Harry, and saying, “life is not a dress rehearsal and I don’t do Prissy. Let’s get the hell outta here!” Like Sarah, Duchess of York, Meghan was supposed to have stuck around and been walked all over by the BRF and Fleet Street. And this is why the Sussexes have won, from HM The Queen on down to that blasted buffoon, to say nothing of the many dalliances exposed and whispered about.
Just as William did not attend Wimbledon on the same day that Lord Snowdon was sat his Athenian arse next to the minor thespian put-through, so too he is very careful to never have James Middleton show up at Wimbledon and definitely not sat in the royal box whilst he is there. Naturally, one would not want to have persons start entertaining the thought that James has been ridden like a prized polo pony for many moons now. There is a reason why, James is kept safely out of reach, if only to pop up time and again, doing his best Saint Francis of Assisi… a right sissy that one… to be sure. So as much as they would like to have wanted the Sussexes about being shat on by Fleet Street and the rest of the realm, to serve as foil for the Cambridges’ fractured, messy marriage – exhibit Prince Damien for one – they have got no end of thinly veiled scandals percolating just below the surface.
What the whole debacle in St. Paul’s Cathedral on June 03, 2022 revealed at HM The Queen’s platinum jubilee service of thanksgiving, is how weak the Windsors are next to the Sussexes. The Queen deliberately did not attend because she wanted to have the Sussexes embarrassed before the world without her being present and looking as though complicit. What… no shit, pigs don’t fly! She has spent the better part of ten, eight in an official capacity, decades pulling the wool over the eyes of the somnambulant clowns of her island realm but few else are duped by her and her clan’s antics. Why even go so low as to have the Sussexes sat where they were but then to top it off, just as her being at the Sussexes’ wedding, Princess Blackamoor was sat within fart-sniffing distance of the Prince & Princess of Wales as well as the Duke & Duchess of Cambridge. They have no power; when the Sussexes exited the island sanatorium, the Windsors lost their power to thoroughly fuck with and manipulate them. They have upped their attacks by having a spate of biographies printed; however, everyone of them fail to mention the blackamoor brooch incident because, clearly, all these biographers are sanctioned and directed on how to focus the narrative of the runaway slave, Meghan. To not mention the blackamoor brooch incident and Princess Blackamoor’s subsequent prominence, does one thing and one thing only; it exposes the fact that the Windsors are die-hard racists. All the nonsense of Commonwealth unity is a damn farce.
Don’t you worry your sweet little head, you’ve got scandal aplenty with Prince Damien chomping at the bit to get on with life and cause you no end of dread and embarrassment. As for Prince Damien, two other royals had a fourth number of 7 and they were both assassinated: Diana, Princess of Wales (1/7/1961 Ox 1.8.7 = 7) and Lord Louis Mountbatten, Earl of Burma 25/6/1900 Rat 7.4.5 = 7). It is very possible that either of his parents will choose to have Prince Damien put down for being a royal pain in the arse; it is what they do and have always done.
HM The Queen’s reign has been possessed of her amoral nature; it has had a cycle of abuses that show utter disregard for human decency, compassion, as well as, both emotional and mental wellbeing. During her reign there has been one consistency, no care for senior royals wellbeing if they are not in line to be future sovereign. From HRH Princess Margaret, her sister – whose emotional and mental health she ruined by her ruthless inconsiderateness. Not just her having abandoned the new-born HRH Princess Anne to return to HRH Prince Philip in Malta, in later years, she would turn a blind eye and allow the utter abuse of Diana, Princess of Wales who had been simply used for approved heirs, to say nothing how Sarah, Duchess of York has been abused and kept around like a despised corgi just so that one can kick it at every opportunity.
Do Drink Up… Backstory Time.
Diana was not a stranger to them. As the preceding photograph attests, seven years into her marriage to Andrew Parker-Bowles, (who incidentally was also a lover of HRH Princess Anne, Princess Royal), there was Camilla, clearly having an affair with HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales, whilst grooming Lady Diana Spencer to be Charles’ approved concubine; how not unlike Ghislaine Maxwell was the very married Mrs. Camilla Parker-Bowles. All of this, HM The Queen would have been intimately aware of and clearly approved of. So a barely legal, Lady Diana Spencer was being squired, groomed and proffered by Camilla who by that point had sequestered her lovechild with HRH Prince Charles to the colonies in Australia. Obviously, HM The Queen had a direct hand in the lovechild being removed from the scene; there are simply some scandals that cannot be tolerated. The scandals that spring from the Fleet Street abattoirs do so with the royal seal of approval by none other than HM The Queen.
Diana, for being a mature soul artisan, was no pushover. She was a quick study, when she saw that she was merely a convenient, acceptable womb and that Camilla, her handler, would never stop meddling in her marriage to Camilla’s true lover, like any artisan-soul worth their adventurous, dramatic salt, Diana went off and engaged in revenge lust with the continent’s biggest royal lothario. That dalliance is precisely why HM King Juan-Carlos of Spain, father of Diana’s lovechild, was disinvited at the last minute to the royal wedding of HRH Prince Charles of Wales and Lady Diana Spencer. What was HM The Queen to do at that point, Charles & Diana were already set to be wedded and she, after all, had long abandoned Philip and been besotted and sired by Lord Porchester – and you can bet that she did not give a goddamn what anyone thought. As Charles ignored and carried on with Camila immediately after his wedding, Diana simply resumed relations with King Juan-Carlos and a pregnancy was expected so who would be any the wiser. Meanwhile, she knew damn well that as Queen, she could rip off Porchy’s clothes and mount him on the Buckingham Palace balcony at trooping the colour and not a single damn fool on the island realm would have seen any such thing. Period.
Well, of course, Porchy’s boy, HM The Queen’s favoured lovechild was going to have a full 5-star wedding at Westminster Abbey. Another royal wedding, means more tourists after all and more merch income. Pretty soon, though, the fairy story started turning into an abundant flock of lambs for the Fleet Street abattoirs. Toe-sucking and pretty soon, Fergie was cast into the wilderness; not in direct line for the throne anyway, which afforded her to be diversionary scandal. Then faster than a sneeze, there was Diana making perfectly frigging goddamn clear that she was done playing along or playing nice. Never mind that before Penelope Knatchbull, there was HRH Princess Alexandra of Kent, yet HRH Prince Philip made it perfectly clear that he did not ever want to see Sarah, Duchess of York in the same room as him after her divorce. To that end, she was not invited to William and Catherine’s wedding and Meghan and Harry insisted that she be at their wedding; however, she was sat across the quire aisle from the rest of the royals. Incidentally, the Sussexes should not have been surprised at their placement at St. Paul’s Cathedral on June 03, 2022 as this was what HM The Queen decreed. Nonetheless, HM The Queen also made sure that Princess Blackamoor was placed close to the Waleses and Cambridges at St. Paul’s Cathedral on June 03, 2022.
Diana started taking lovers. Naturally, to toss off Diana and begin her character assassination at the Fleet Street abattoirs, HM The Queen in a move to protect and avenge her honour, has the notion of HRH Prince Harry being Diana’s lovechild with James Hewitt floated. What a very convenient arsenal to draw on, as she was so intimate with this development two decades early with the lovechild with Porchy; simultaneously, it goes a long way to make the notion of Charles & Camilla more feasible in future, which like a turtle she has managed to live to see that PR rebranding of the adulterous Camilla the Ghislaine Maxwell-like groomer and Charles the Tampon prince. Naturally, James Hewitt was just another lamb proffered by HM The Queen and her syndicate, to protect Prince William’s true parentage and thereby get back at Diana for having fucked with not just Charles & Camilla but herself, HM The Queen, by fucking HM King Juan-Carlos of Spain. Of course, in due course as Charles was off loving Camilla and many male lovers, Diana, Princess of Wales wasted little time, taking lovers married or not as has always been the royal way.
After HM The Queen went out and had her lovechild with Lord Porchester, who turned into a real karmic tsunami, Philip for near five decades openly lived a life of passion and companionship with the very married Countess of Burma, Penelope Knatchbull. Just like Porchy’s lovechild, they do as they please and do not give a damn what the little islanders think. Of course, Philip lived to see the day that he was avenged for having been humiliated by a lovechild being in line to the throne ahead of his daughter, HRH Princess Anne, Princess Royal.
Of course, well before there was the very married Penelope Knatchbull, Countess of Burma, there was HRH Princess Alexandra of Kent, HM King George V’s granddaughter and daughter of HRH Prince George, Duke of Kent. Princess Alexandra’s numerology: 25/12/1936 Rat! 7.1.2 = 1. Philip’s affair with Princess Alexandra is what caused the rift in the sovereign’s marriage which resulted in HM The Queen’s affair with the Porchmeister and eventually their passion produced the rather barrel-hipped porchfest, Prince Andrew who exposed the lust and passion that produced him in the debauched affair that saw Jeffrey Epstein, Ghislaine Maxwell and Virginia Roberts-Giuffre being more than tangential bit players and infamous persons known the world over, one to whom they had to pay hush money. This is where it now gets interesting, after Andrew’s birth there was no going back and soon it was Penelope Knatchbull, the very married Countess of Burma with whom Prince Philip was passionately consumed. Penelope’s numerology is most interesting: 16.4.1953 Snake. 7.2.2 = 11. Both women are 7 energy bodied, you can’t get more amoral than that – they can also see dead people, auras et al. The more excitingly fascinating of the two royal mistresses of Prince Philip’s would hands down be Penelope; she has master number 11. These persons are inordinately charming and incredibly powerful and exceptionally gifted in the sexual arts. Moreover, Penelope is born in the year of the Snake; they can be monstrous, which is why Chinese traditionally avoided having babies in the year of the snake for fear that they would give birth to a female. For Princess Alexandra, a Rat, she was just in it for the adventure and with amoral 7 energy body, it was damn great sex and she was not going to not get her fix. Again, it is what the royals have always done.
One of the most important things that HRH Prince Harry said in his engagement interview, occurred when he corrected BBC host, Mishal Husain by stating, “Or they think they know!” If HM The Queen wants the realm to know, it will be filtered via the abattoirs on Fleet Street. Everything else will be smoke and mirrors and the standard, “Never explain. Never complain” rules the day. Indeed, when you’ve much to hide, so say you.
Royals and their lovers indeed. HRH Princess Margaret, Countess Snowdon 21/8/1930 Horse 3.2.6 = 11
Margaret was possessed of master number 11; she did not give a living shit and said and did as she pleased. She was also innately talented and exceedingly charismatic. She had three lovers of note and only one of them did she share 2 numbers in common. This would have been her one true love, Peter Townsend (22/11/1914 Tiger 4.6.3 = 4). Peter, however, was divorced and his wife was still alive, which means that as the Governor of the Church of England, HM The Queen could not have sanctioned Margaret’s marriage to her true love and divorced spouse. With two numbers in common, it is very likely that there was a high degree of past-life connection between Margaret and Peter Townsend. He was shipped off to Belgium so that she could not have her star-crossed lover on the side. As karma would have it within ten years of Margaret being bitterly separated from Peter Townsend by his relocation to Belgium, Prince Philip was ploughing Princess Alexandra and before the decade was out, HM The Queen had her lovechild with Lord Prochester, HRH Prince Andrew, Duke of York and we know damn well how all that karma turned out, Epstein, Maxwell, Roberts-Giuffre. All the more reason why it was callous in the extreme to have dispatched Peter Townsend to Belgium. Margaret could have wedded whomever and kept Peter as lover, open or otherwise; this after all, is what both HM The Queen and Prince Philip did… it is what the royals have always done.
Margaret having been told to suck it up and get on with living, then settled for Antony Armstrong-Jones, 1st Earl Snowdon. It is hard to see what had these two walking down the aisle, unless Antony Armstrong-Jones (7/3/1930 Horse 7.1.5 = 4) was hung like a prized steed. Margaret and Antony did not a single number in common share; she had to have kids and if he loved being pegged by strap-on or cock, he would not have been the first royal male with same-sex proclivities. Finally, having had enough of playing at happily married, Margaret dispensed with her pegged hubby and cut to the chase. She took Roddy Llewellyn (9/10/1947 Pig 9.1.4 = 5) as her lover. She needed to be well-ploughed and often and when that is the order, no one fills the role better than a Pig. Pigs are loud, lusty, sexually obsessive souls who will happily fulfil themselves and partners as often as possible. Soused on drink and nicotine all Princess Margaret wanted was damn good sex and that is just what Roddy would have provided. Like the Earl Snowdon, Margaret and Roddy had no numbers in common. At 17 years Margaret’s junior, Roddy was merely a throbbing sex toy and knew his role.
Please, Switch to Elderflower; It Is Most Soothing…
Catherine has mastered the art of cussing behind clenched teeth whilst smiling that ever-present smile of hers. Her 9 energy body here is toxic in the extreme and that is why for most of the time, William’s face is warped into a pursed-lipped silence. William is a submissive; he is a bottom who loves being bullied by his wife and it is part of their psychosexual dynamic. Catherine is a dominatrix. Who again made whom cry?
Catherine peppered William with abuse common to dominatrixes whilst smiling and looking his way; just look at her exasperation at the 40 second mark. On arriving at the top of the stairs, Catherine looked across to William who had still not made it up. She cuts the eye at him and does not give a damn who the world over noticed.
Bottoms Up! Now we learn where best fake-toothed, bald, submissive Billy likes to wear his crown jewels! If that is not rich…. of course, it has always been there. You can even see it in the way Catherine triggers William in the clip of them out bike-riding and encountering an amateur photographer. Of course, William’s mum, Diana, Princess of Wales was 1 energy-bodied and that is the sign of the dominatrix/bully. I have also known four women along life’s journey and everyone of them had men whom they utterly controlled, emasculated and pussy-whipped their every breath. Heck, two of those women, with energy body of 9, loved using a strap-on on their lovers/partners.
Perhaps, indeed, he loves being pegged by James Middleton, Earl of Insolvency. Again, William’s fourth number is 5, it signifies male sexual fluidity, submissive behaviour, sexual excess, sexual scandal; furthermore, William is moving centred and all such persons are highly sex-focussed individuals. 5 represents excess – excessive submission. All this has happened throughout the history of the royal family; now, we live in an age where very little goes unnoticed.
Just look at William in both photographs on separate occasions; his lips are pursed and he is self-contained, emasculated and submissive. William is also jealous as hell but there isn’t a damn thing that he can do about it. A woman loves whom she loves and that’s that! Meanwhile, Catherine (9/1/1982 Rooster 9.1.3 = 4) does not waste time in telegraphing her heightened sexuality when focussed on Ben; she is all over and into Sir Ben Ainslie (5/2/1977 Dragon 5.7.4 = 7). This has been going on at least since 2014 and always, no one ever makes mention. In light of what we know about Prince Philip and HM The Queen, in this generation, we also do have a parallel dynamic. Catherine has made it perfectly clear, time and again, that William is a goddamn irritant. Not to be overlooked, is the fact that Dragons and Dogs do NOT get along; there is no way that William would ever feel comfortable around Ben and will be consumed with jealousy rather than not with regards Ben; Catherine intuitively knows this and plays it up even more. Make no mistake about it, there is more than flirting at play here. What’s poor Willy to do but go self-peg or cocksuck a couple of fags (British version or is that a pun?).
Catherine openly flirts with Ben and what does it say about their relationship when he adjusts her helmet; it is the most bold display of their intimacy. Of course, on the day of this Commonwealth invitational sailing event between Britain and New Zealand – Britain won – Catherine could not have bothered nor would she have dropped the sailing event, to attend Wembley Stadium with her husband, William, whilst the ladies England team squared off against Germany in the Ladies Euros 2022 finals, which they won. There was William alone and unattended by his wife, Catherine, who was in Plymouth openly flirting with her very intimate friend, Ben Ainslie.
More important for Catherine was spending sportive quality time with Sir Ben. Well, of course, Sir Ben is married but so too is Penelope Knatchbull and Princess Alexandra wedded when they were the open lovers of Prince Philip’s, HM The Queen or no queen, to say nothing of the rest of humanity. But did anyone ever notice or write biographies and harp on as though the sky were imminently about to collapse?
Honestly, though they only have one match numerologically, there may be a strong past-life history between both Ben & Catherine or they may well be entity/cadre mates; either way, she is a warrior and all warrior souls whether male or female are very highly sexed persons, for whom there is never any shame in their game when they want to be sexually satisfied. Catherine is no different and she has the perfect partner. More sex workers and street walkers are warrior souls than any other role… so you know.
You definitely do not see Catherine ever looking this downright maudlin when in the company of Sir Ben Ainslie. “Lady sings the blues. She’s got it bad…” Sing it Billie Holiday. You wait, Billy, she’s gonna peg you good. Take a sip and breathe dears… exhale; isn’t Elderflower superb?
William is an insipid, foul-tempered man-child, who does find ready support in the court buffoon, whose wife is as equally dominant as is Catherine. He, too, likely does love being pegged. This could have been such smooth sailing; however, you just had to go tempting karma by being nasty little upfront racists towards Meghan, Duchess of Sussex. Now that she is gone, you’ve blown your cover… from Prince Damien to personal preference on how to wear the crown jewels, are truly unmasking.
If you going to reincarnate and work as a team on a life devoted to stewardship, this remarkably august pair would be as fine a blueprint as you could hope for. I don’t know if they are task companions or essence twins but what I do know, is that they are without doubt august mature souls with a strong past-life history. They do a remarkable job of not just maintaining an estate, Houghton Hall, they have handsomely adapted it to survive and thrive in modern times.
All four of their numbers match; this is a bucolic reward incarnation for both and it has to do with a lifetime, which was chosen at the level of soul because they had richly earned/deserved it. As the 7th Marquess of Cholmondeley his 9 energy body is vastly different to Catherine’s. For one, he was born into the aristocracy and for another a woman with 9 energy body is vastly more acerbic, predatory than a male with 9 energy body; Catherine was also not of aristocratic birth, which only steeled her 9 energy body’s exoskeleton. Rose’s 6 energy body means that as also of aristocratic birth, she is all about being grounded, family-focussed and eschewing drama. This couple so get each other that it would not be surprising if they regularly finished each other’s sentences, experienced a strong degree of telepathy, most definitely communicate rather actively in dreams and when they are together can effect magical stillness when in a room. They are quite remarkable. Life is a business; they get it and run a business they do. As any good rat knows, life is about balance and duality. They indulge and when they play, they lose themselves.
Much has been whispered at tea about this pairing of couples. Honey, I don’t read tea leaves. I am inclined to believe that Catherine wanted Rose frozen out, simply because Catherine is a warrior soul and all warrior souls are quick to do battle, anywhere, anytime, with whomsoever with enemies real or imagined, many of whom prove the latter. Catherine, as with Meghan, is easily threatened. In this case, Rose’s aristocratic birth would be reason enough to look to freeze her out.
The Rocksavages are mature souls and as Rats, they could give two frigs about trifling drama; they are far too sophisticated to get caught up in that. They are aristocratic; one does as one has always done. It is the spouse’s duty to accept and live with it or suffer the consequences. William’s fourth number of 5 means that as there has been smoke, and copious amounts, I might add, I say there most definitely is a raging fire… hey, blame it on climate change.
Wasn’t that sublime? It’s remarkably elegant and sensual. I find it also induces the most languorously lucid dreams. Always good to take the time for tea. Cheers. Speaking of dreams, I think the link to this dream almost 30 years ago, is a fitting metaphor for how the BRF, Fleet Street and the island realm dwellers relate to the Sussexes. Don’t, like the dog in this dream, be like the aforementioned: BRF, Fleet Street and island dwellers of the realm.
Saturday past, as it is a holiday weekend here, my spouse and I crated Buster and took him to my sister Pandora’s. There we had too much Moet, can you possibly ever have too much champagne, and had an early birthday dinner with luscious raspberry-covered cake ahead of my 62nd on Tuesday. 2/8/1960 Rat 2.1.8 = 11. Buster sat on the desk, looking out the window because since Pandora and hubby moved back to town from Ottawa, her two cats – mother and daughter – can’t seem to make heads or tail of him. Buster scurries about and now it’s gotten to the point of a hiss there, a hiss here. Either way, he calms himself by taking to the window and gazing up at the Aura condominium, which towers higher still than those across Bay Street.
Miles Davis – Trumpet
Wayne Shorter – Saxophone
Herbie Hancock – Piano
Ron Carter – Bass
Tony Williams – Drums
As this is the 65th anniversary of Ron Carter’s career as Jazz bassist extraordinaire, I thought this concert a fitting tribute. Jazz is the magical language of Black love and spirituality. From Emmett Till to George Floyd, honestly, how can you possibly expect us to suffer the repugnant affront of you, seeking to cancel Jazz, cancel Black culture by your grudging ubiquity? You will never do.
As ever, life is like a flying dream; if you look down, you’re fucked. Enjoy the ride and fear no one!
Simply stunning; the hue of the wood suggests an agedness as though it were centuries old; rather than the expectant lustre of bright gold, the subdued golden hue alludes to the agedness of the British monarchy which is in its second millennium. So then, the beauty of this portrait, the frame; now to everything else.
This photograph deftly betrays both princes’ true posture. Harry a fifth level mature warrior – same soul age and soul type as Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge – is always going to be proud in stature and not given to slouching. William a sixth mature scholar soul and task companion of his wife, Catherine, slouches, partly for towering over most persons at 6.3 feet tall. However, William has hyper-extended knees and as such, his body naturally counterbalances that stance by bearing his head and chest forward and in a concave manner rather than not. Though evocative of regal portraits from times past, in Jamie Coreth’s painting, that posture simply is not innate to HRH Prince William, Duke of Cambridge.
Admiral Viscount Horatio Nelson, Alexander Hamilton, 1st Duke of Wellington, HM King Charles I, HM King George III, HM King George IV, Napoleon Bonaparte & SM Roi Louis XIV.
All these portraits depict the historic figures standing, weight on one leg with the other leg’s foot forward and turned out. It is a commanding position. Of all historical portraits HM King Charles I’s is my favourite, partly because his death was so comically tragic. More than that, Charles I’s swagger and pride remains unparalleled. I am also partial simply because those magical eyes and goatee of HM King Charles I’s are not dissimilar to Merlin, my task companion’s, look during his most recent past life.
Prince William is made to affect this posture; however, it is obviously foreign to his persona. He has a goal of acceptance which is the great goal and such people are always warm and open; however, with a second number of 9, mindset, he is anything but warm. He has unequivocally demonstrated that he is archly bigoted and a rude dismissive snob. To make matters worse, his wife, who happens to be his task companion, also has 9 but in the first/energy body position. Both persons have primary chief features of stubbornness and secondary of arrogance. Stubbornness would most definitely mitigate his being open to anyone when he was born and groomed to be the ultimate snob. Furthermore, persons with a primary chief feature of stubbornness are persistently shit-disturbing, obstreperous and infuriatingly difficult.
Catherine’s resting face as ever is no oil painting. Catherine is possessed of an energy body of 9 and such persons, especially so when born female, are toxic in the extreme. They are also bitingly sarcastic, difficult and unrelentingly unpleasant socially. As a mature warrior soul in perseverance mode with a chief feature of stubbornness, you could not find a bigger shit-disturber and conceited bully. Couple all that with having to be wedded to an equally difficult mature soul and both equally insecure, Meghan, self-made and vastly more intelligent and articulate plus unacceptably of Black blood, did not stand a chance with these two.
This masterful oil on canvas, Paul Emsley, which permanently hangs at the National Portrait Gallery, perfectly captures the essence of who Catherine is; it is full of nuance and dark undercurrents, which readily betray the complexity of spirit that she and every mature soul know during the course of each lifetime. One of the lessons of the mature soul cycle, is having to learn pretty tough life lessons for being spiritually stagnant. The accompanying photograph, taken whilst on royal tour in the Bahamas, March 2022, captures the woman’s true nature. In the case of Catherine, and William, they have been gifted with Prince Louis. As everything is choice; they could have chosen not to have a third child and a third child could have been born to them without obvious mental/emotional issues if during gestation, Catherine was not engaged in such racially toxic behaviour towards the Sussexes. It does the Cambridges no favours that everyone in the kingdom has painted the drama surrounding the Sussexes as though it were completely one-sided and that the Cambridges were not at the very heart of the rift; regardless, how this is all made to seem a one-sided affair, it does still take two hands to clap. Not only is the Cambridges’ conceit encouraged but their glaring stupidity has been exposed, regardless how the British media and society blindly choose to act as though the Cambridges are in no way culpable for or play any part in the affair, at its heart centre this whole mess is all about racism. Since it is too damaging for the Cambridges, just let the Sussexes fuck off and stay gone as this is the only only way to save, in due course, the Cambridges’ reign.
No matter how much these two row in public, which is increasingly ubiquitous, British media simply pretend as though it does not exist. In point of fact, the Sussexes have largely been used as a smokescreen to deflect attention off the Cambridges’ very turbulent marriage. No matter what, at least for now, the Cambridges cannot be seen as anything other than a loving couple, adored throughout the kingdom.
This whole affair has brought to sharp focus how the White tribe simply fabricate reality as they would have it. These past few weeks of watching CNN’s coverage of the January 6th commission hearings on Capitol Hill, the Trumpian perspective is a poignant exposé into the White tribe’s collective psyche. One boldly tells a lie and for repeating it loudly and long enough, it becomes fact. Thriving almost exclusively on negativity, that vile liar, President Trump, was been able to incite an insurrection and for merely being a moneyed White male, he has not only been believed but he has commanded fierce, blindly unwavering loyalty. Though he is as guilty as sin, the Democrats are utterly paralysed with fear to arrest, charge, prosecute and imprison a President who for the first time in over 250 years attempted a coup d’état. Trump epitomises the White tribe’s zeitgeist: at all costs, we win, we are always right and no one gets to be perceived as being better than us; more importantly, we can never be perceived as either being wrong or having failed.
What I love about this masterful portrait, is how cleverly the artist makes a reference to King Juan Carlos, the Bourbon King of Spain, as the nose is decidedly neither the Spencer nor the Windsor nose. As the saying goes, when you know, you know.
This succinct painting is of a gormless-looking Prince William by Welsh artist, Dan Llywelyn Hall, in which the painter masterfully captures the essence of William’s persona. William is neither the swiftest of souls nor the most emotionally august. From his open ridicule of Black culture at the Sussexes’ wedding to sanctioning the recent seating arrangement at St. Paul’s Cathedral during HM The Queen’s platinum jubilee, neither he nor his wife can claim ignorance of racism within the royal family. They are at the very heart of the racist campaign against the Sussexes; nevertheless, within the kingdom and beyond its shores, the golden royal couple are universally deemed a paragon of superior, racially pure virtuousness in a land where the royal propaganda is not dissimilar to the blinding sycophancy afforded North Korean leaders.
In the couple’s 40th birthday portrait, they are seen to be closing ranks, as well they have. More importantly, they are neither looking at each other nor are they smiling as they are deeds done between them and against the Sussexes, for which they would rather remain mum. The Cambridges or for that matter their propagandists do not have the ability to whitewash the truth neither indefinitely nor beyond their kingdom’s shores. True love as alluded in the recent photographic portrait of the Cambridges does not bear tarnished fruit as is obvious with their third-born, Prince Damien. There is a direct result between the Sussexes’ treatment as a consequence of the Cambridges’ machinations and Prince Louis being the damaged goods that he is.
Charles Mingus / Bass
Eric Dolphy / Alto Saxophone, Bass Clarinet
Dannie Richmond / Drums
Jaki Byard / Piano
Johnny Coles / Trumpet
Clifford Jordan / Tenor Saxophone
As ever, life is like a flying dream; if you look down, you’re fucked. Enjoy the ride and fear no one!
Now that you have been to London and ‘they’ have royally torn their collective arse at you both – the seating at St. Paul’s Cathedral was as low as you could go. It is time, Harry, that you resolve to wash your hands of these people and throw the kitchen sink at them.
Roya Nikkhah of the Times of London stated during her commentary on BBC that the Duke & Duchess of Sussex were seated where they were second row across the aisle from the Cambridges and Waleses because they had stepped back as working royals. Never mind that directly ahead of them were the Wessexes with their children who for having toured the Caribbean earlier this year, ought to have been sat close to the senior royals on the other side of the aisle.
How stupid indeed are the Cambridges? Do these two and their supporters not realise that in having the minor Kents, who are not official working royals, sat close to Charles & William and ahead of the Wessexes who were sat amongst the non-working royals, they actually gave more than the crown jewels to the Sussexes? It was unforgiveable to have worn the blackamoor brooch to HM The Queen’s Christmas lunch in 2017, then to have shown up to the Sussexes’ wedding was beyond the pale. However, to sit her racist hide ahead of the Wessexes to show just how you – senior royals Charles & Camilla along with William & Catherine – feel about the Black woman will only play in the Sussexes’ favour in America. That was vile, deliberately racist and gives the Sussexes more ammo than they could ever have hoped for. Harry’s memoir is going to blow the lid off and the deliberate placement of HRH Princess Michael of Kent only betrays how the BRF do not give a living frig about their smug racism and that most definitely will not fly in America. Americans, not just Black Americans, have a very visceral reaction to bigotry, repeated bigotry and have no desire to host racists of any kind, royal or otherwise. Britons have proven themselves no less repugnant and racist than those who worship the confederate flat. What the Cambridges and Cornwalls gave both Harry & Meghan in having sat the minor, non working royal Kents close by, showed that they approve of the open racism represented by the blackamoor brooch. What these fools have afforded Harry & Meghan is worth way more in PR gold than the crown jewels. Run with it!
Naturally, there was no room for the Wessexes because sat closer to the senior royals, was none other than HRH Princess Michael of Kent – indeed, she of the blackamoor brooch – her husband, her children which included HRH Prince William Duke of Cambridge’s best friend, Lord Frederick Windsor and his Jewish wife who works in Hollywood. Also, the racist boor who sported the blackamoor brooch at HM The Queen’s 2017 Christmas Lunch arrived at St. Paul’s Cathedral for HM The Queen’s thanksgiving service to mark her Platinum Jubilee by stately Rolls Royce, which one would expect the Sussexes to have arrived in, had they not been racially preyed on and driven out of the kingdom. Naturally, in having sat the minor Kents so close to the Cambridges and Cornwalls only proves that the blackamoor brooch incident was not an innocent accident of which the minor royal claimed ignorance.
Let’s just keep it real on who the Cambridges are and who exactly HRH Princess Michael of Kent truly is. Her father was a Nazi SS officer. After she was made to pay market value for their 16-room apartment at Kensington Palace, they sold their country manor, Nether Lypiatt; it was there that clearly Jurassic-gened, racist princess kinder Nazi kept two black sheep on her estate, which she quaintly named, Venus and Serena – you simply cannot make this shit up. Further, whilst dining at a restaurant in Manhattan’s Greenwich Village, Princess Michael approached the table where five Black Americans were boisterously dining, slammed her hand on the table and asked, “Why don’t you go back to the colonies?” Like every racist White, she cowardly denied having said any such thing.
Also, as stated by Roya Nikkhah, the Sussexes walked the aisle of St. Paul’s Cathedral alone as nothing The Queen does is by coincidence. All British media and biographers writing about Megxit have consistently ignored the deliberate racist attack on Meghan by Princess Michael of Kent, which clearly had the backing of the Cambridges. Having been returned to the isle of rabid racists, the royals chose to thoroughly wipe arse with you both, Meghan & Harry, by having the Michaels of Kent sat closest to the senior royals. Hell, even the Duke of Gloucester arrived to St. Paul’s Cathedral in a mere Jaguar rather than Rolls Royce.
Not allowed on the balcony at trooping the colour and since Camilla HRH Duchess of Cornwall whilst at Horse Guards parade refused to take to the recessed balcony, therefore no one else could; thus, she prevented Meghan & Harry from being seen. Not entertained at Guild Hall after the service at St. Paul’s, neither were they allowed in the royal box at the Concert on the Mall, which was a god awful mess save for Alicia Keys plus the spectacular light show and phenomenal drone display. Similarly, the final Jubilee event, the pageant, came and went without the Sussexes being invited.
As the Cambridges, in their embittered marriage – cue Prince Louis’ lunatic acting out, could not wait to send signals to Hollywood where they will be touring later this year, we do not want you employing that Black woman who pulled the race card, when “we are very much not a racist family” – all of which was revealed a damn lie at the St. Paul’s platinum jubilee service of thanksgiving, I say to hell with these people. The greatest pain that you will experience in life, will more likely than not come from family. Looking to all the world as though “Straight the fuck out of Compton.” Thank the good lord that Prince Louis is not Meghan’s child as there would be no end of racist slights about his savage, uncivilised behaviour.
Most of all, there was Prince Louis at the Jubilee Pageant, acting like a reincarnated crack whore who overdosed in Compton. That’s what you get for plotting and scheming with the minor Kents. You may have thought it delicious fun to have had that flat-arsed, eurotrash clown sport the blackamoor brooch; however, how in the hell could all that 9 toxicity not have affected Louis all 9 months whilst in utero? Furthermore, karma is impartial, exacting… unforgiving. Catherine is an excellent photographer with a keen eye. The reason for the featured photograph not showing Louis’ entire body is that a key giveaway of spectrum persons is that they, more than most, prefer sitting with their legs gather and folded beneath them. Perfectionist Catherine, 9 energy body, is desperately trying to control the narrative and hide this generation’s ‘Prince John.’
As his two balcony appearances and royal box plus carriage ride betrayed, Prince Louis is a compromised human and the direct karmic result of them: Charles & Camilla, William & Catherine in tandem with the minor Kents, having fucked with Meghan and all throughout her pregnancy – the move to Frogmore Cottage by the Sussexes rather than live next-door to Catherine and toxic husband but another example of a monstrous 9 energy, which resulted in the in utero, Prince Louis being born mentally dysfunctional. One-year-old August Brooksbank did not behave at the platinum jubilee pageant like Prince Louis did on the balcony at Trooping the Colour in 2019. Lena Tindall is a three-year-old and was not the volatile unstable monster that Louis was whilst also attending the platinum jubilee pageant. Catherine was utterly embarrassed by Louis. Catherine is a warrior soul with toxic energy body of 9 -these people do not suffer defects, faults, imperfections of any kind near them, yet, Prince Louis is her son.
Prince Louis will be groomed to be a bigot like his father with 9 in the second position. He will never grow up thanks to his 2 (pronounced child ego state) in the third position and with 7 in the fourth position, though, it usually takes more than one 7 – as in the case of his paternal grandmother, Diana, Princess of Wales, Louis does run the risk of being eliminated by his parent(s) for being a damn embarrassment.
Incidentally, as with Edward VIII, 23.6.1894 Horse 5.2.7 = 6, Louis has both 5 & 2 in his numerology; this combo is like quicksilver and such persons can never be perceived as mentally balanced. They can with intense behaviour modification and pharmaceuticals be deemed fairly civilised, though, at their expense. Louis has 3 numbers in common with his father; his father’s placement of that 5 is a keen indicator of sexual scandal… all in due course.
More to the point, the similarities between Edward VIII and today’s senior royals is quite simple. Edward was a Nazi sympathiser for which he was removed. Whereas the same bigotry was at play whereby TRH Duke & Duchess of Cambridge used the minor Kent royals to sport the blackamoor brooch as a display of their racial animus towards Meghan, Duchess of Sussex and Blacks. All this has a connection to Hollywood where were it not for the terror attacks of 9/11, Halle Berry would not have won best actress Oscar and 20 years on, there has been no repeat. Anyway darling, karma is a big black bitch who took one look at the blackamoor gang and decided to serve you a lifetime side order of schadenfreude (Prince Louis). As you were told on taking your vows, “The secrets of all hearts shall be revealed.” In due course, all the palace intrigues, all the communiqués, texts and subterfuge will surface, whether during your lives or after. History will prove that the Cambridges were truly the product of their very toxic numbers.
God only knows Prince Louis’ dysfunctional behaviour surely speaks to a harmonious home and a couple truly in love. Clearly, the Cambridges have more in common with Wallis & Edward than do Harry & Meghan anything in common with the Duke & Duchess of Windsor. The Windsors were forced out for being Nazi sympathisers and the Duke of Sussex left their service to the crown rather than be bullied by anti-Black racist royals, tabloid media and royal household staffers.
You cannibalise and socially eliminate the Black duchess and karma had you pay in kind for delivering a baby whose circuitry was jammed on all that negativity, surrounding your racially predatory obsession with eliminating Meghan, Duchess of Sussex. Though pregnant, Catherine’s negativity towards Meghan was clearly palpable and as we know from the Oprah interview not just unhealthy for both, Meghan and Harry.
“…when the perception and the reality are two very different things and you’re being judged on the perception but you’re living the reality of it, there’s a complete misalignment,” Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex.
Pay attention to the second video. At the 01:09 minute mark, HRH Prince George of Cambridge looks across and past his father to Prince Louis. An 8 year-old boy gives a look that says that for the Cambridges, Louis has been dismissed as crazy. Louis lacks awareness and more than sticking out his tongue to his mother, lip readers have already validated that Louis told his mother, Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge to fuck off. Regardless how they try and wrap this behaviour up in a golden bow and make excuses, Louis is a very realistic comment on the state of his parents’ marriage and the fact that his entire passage in utero was spent being overwhelmed by the hatefulness and vile racialised machinations his parents were engaged in. There are tens of millions of 4 year old boys on the planet and none of the normal 4 year old boys behave as Prince Louis did; even the Prime Minister’s wife Carrie looked on at mother and son’s interactions and was clearly disturbed by what she witnessed. Prince Harry was a cheeky youngster; however, he never was an angry, hostile and frightening terror.
Isle of rabid zombified sycophants… what are these people on about? ‘Louis is so adorable’ then 7 days later, ‘he just had too much sugar’ Child please! That is neither cute behaviour nor a loved child. Don’t know what they were smoking but it damn well looked like twelve variations on Mango!
A week after the embarrassing Tasmanian devil escaping the Windsor dungeon chock full of skeletons, along comes desperate Willy, getting down with the social lepers. You can fool no one, especially when not the swiftest of souls. Forever and a day, ever trying to pull the wool over the somnambulant fools’ eyes.
The only fitting response to these people, who chose a racist boor over family, based on the seating at St. Paul’s Cathedral, is quite simple. On HM The Queen’s passing, do not, Meghan, set foot in England to attend her funeral. She will be dead and if she truly did know and approve of the seating arrangements at St. Paul’s Cathedral then all the more reason to not go – HM The Queen did not plan the Platinum Jubilee celebrations. In an uneclipsed salvo, the Cambridges made it clear that Harry & Meghan are not wanted back.
To that end, they whored out the kids at Trooping the Colour where their lastborn, clearly on the spectrum, proved himself an utter embarrassment. They then trotted them out to Wales, minus the social freak, and again to the concert on the Mall; all this, whilst ignoring the invitation to drop by on the day to Frogmore Cottage and wish Lilibet happy birthday. Last day of jubilee celebrations and just in case you were prepared to self-gaslight and say Prince Louis really was not that bad, along comes reincarnated crack whore Shaniqua, keeping it real with the Jerry Springer hair pulling and telling his mama to fuck off. Of course, Lilibet is not of Jewish heritage, so far be it from the Cambridges to give a damn. All this is reminiscent of the kids being taken to service on Christmas Day 2019 after the Queen’s message wherein the Sussexes were nowhere to be seen in photos. All along, no matter how the Sussexes delude themselves into thinking that HM The Queen is an allay, she has been all along, keeping them closer rather than not as one does one’s enemies.
Come an Harry, man up. Throw the goddamn kitchen sink at the lot of them. You are Diana’s son and though Camilla threw out there, in her ongoing war against Diana, Princess of Wales, that Hewitt is Harry’s father, you could in your Memoir allude to King Juan Carlos and the discarded lovechild in Australia, who of late won’t keep his damn yap shut. Time to tear the arse at these vipers and get on with living your lives. No one spits at Americans. You’ve a beautiful family to provide for. There is much material from this trip for Netflix to work with and BET or Tyler Perry’s studios can also run with the production of Pearl.
The one error in the Oprah interview is that the blackamoor brooch was not discussed, which left Meghan exposed to being accused of having played the race card; it is the one part of the puzzle that all Whites in the media conveniently gloss over. God only knows, Whites never admit to being possessed of anti-Black racial animus; they ever suffer collective white amnesia whereby one never remembers unpleasant aspects of the past and especially as it relates to one’s heritage of being racially predatory. With the Michaels of Kent placement at St. Paul’s Cathedral, the gloves are well and truly off. Name names and get on with it! They have assured you a blockbuster New York Times bestseller by their invidious staging at St. Paul’s Cathedral.
As the saying goes, you shall know a woman by her seed and Prince Louis deftly betrays where Catherine’s heart is focussed towards Meghan – her racialised animus towards Meghan, resulted in Prince Louis becoming mentally damaged whilst in utero. When TRH Duke & Duchess of Cambridge come touring America later in 2022, after having signalled to the Hollywood few, who did not approve of the schwarze leap-frogging ahead of the minor Kents’ darling daughter-in-law, simply pick up and leave America.
You, Prince Harry, have the only family that matters, the ones you choose along life’s journey. Gather the entire family and come to Toronto, you’ve got family here. You will be seen on their IG about town – nothing as gauche as CN Tower shots, then you can take your darling kids to your family’s hometown of Montréal. You’ve got choices aplenty, take the family to your soul brother’s ranch in Argentina and be on their IG, practising polo whilst the Cambridges are in America; this is the only fitting response to their arse-tearing crassness in the placement of the blackamoor brooch-wearing, flat-arsed, kinder Nazi. If William had not betrayed his own brother by putting up his best friend’s hideous mother to sport a racist brooch to placate and trigger his brother’s unacceptable Black affianced, none of this would have transpired. Certainly, Catherine’s third pregnancy would not have resulted in such a toxically shrill monster.
For absolutely nothing and ever, should you be in the same country as that toxic pair, whom you seem unaware do not consider you family. Having the racist boor sat closer to the two future sovereigns than the Wessexes at the platinum jubilee thanksgiving service at St. Paul’s Cathedral, is reason enough for Meghan not to attend, HM The Queen’s funeral, Charles’ coronation, Charles’ funeral and Williams’ coronation. You’ve all the family you need.. protect them.
Again, genetics always expose the truth. Prince Harry has redheaded offspring as did his mum, Diana, Princess of Wales’ every sibling. There is William with the Bourbon flat-foot and tiny ears traits and no redhead offspring. No redhead offspring because maple leafs do not produce acorns. A truly masterful photograph of Lilibet by Misan Harriman.
You’re not missing bugger all. Not for a nanosecond should you be around such dense-energied, toxic racially predatory boors. Meghan is, of course, possessed of master numbers of 11; think of Kim Kardashian, slapping her sister who stepped out of line. Master number of 11 are second to no one and so too will it be with Lilibet Diana.
Here are two examples of master number 11 at work, as I do possess said master number (11). Shortly on arriving in Montréal, late 1990s, I went cruising at the funky bathhouse at 456 rue de la Gauchetière Ouest. Returned to my place on rue Goyer between Wilderton and Darlington, I soon asked the hook up to get out of my house. I knew that he was Jewish – not that it mattered; however, he kept on peppering his banter with decidedly anti-Black observations, which he somehow assumed, I would either find funny or condone by way of ignoring. When abruptly asked to get out of my house, he demanded to know what made me upset, “Not all Jews are White, some actually are Black; just as not all Jews are bigots but clearly some are… come on, get the fuck out of my house!” He made to apologise but too little too late. A couple nights later, I brought another hot piece of arse back to rue Goyer, only to have this fucknut, start spewing anti-Semitic bile about how much he hated those goddamn people – Côte-des-Neiges has a sizeable Hassidic population. As my decisions are always swift, I got him to get undressed in the living room and began making out; then told him to go rinse off as I was not munching his soiled arse. No sooner than he was in the shower, I grabbed his clothes and shoes, took them onto the balcony from the bedroom and tossed them to the ground three floors below. Returning, I went to the shower, turned up the hot water; he screamed and hopped out, demanding to know what the fuck was going on. “I don’t like being around anyone using language like ‘nigger this, nigger that’ and most definitely, neither do I tolerate vile ‘kike this, kike that’…” lethally, I hissed that his clothes were in the back lane. Heading to the door, I ripped my towel off him, opened the door and told him to get the fuck out of my house…. now. He went out the front of the building, covering his readily forgettable jewels. Going to the balcony, I tossed down the can of Labatt’s Blue beer and told him that he forgot to take his drink. Master number of 11 persons never tolerate shit… of any kind.
Every day this malignant yenta gets and hogs a mic, blasting the Sussexes and acting as though she has any direct contact with either the Sussexes or royals. She blithers on, her manic depressive whine a real gnawing put-through. Always, she stares everything that happens, alleged to have happened to demonstrate that the Sussexes are losing and that they are about to be sacked by Netflix. She is just such a boldfaced liar; her main objective is to incite and perpetuate anti-Black racism among the gullible masses. Like Orly Taitz before her, she knows that for telling a lie and insisting on demonising the object of her invidious campaign, she will cause doubt, disbelief and incite hatred all based on the fact that once you tell a lie on someone Black, you are less likely to be doubted. Look at the ugly anti-Black racism that Taitz engaged in, insisting with fiendish terror that Barack Obama should not be elected U. S. President. Taitz cast doubt in gullible Americans’ minds by alleging that Obama’s birth certificate was fake rather than stating fact: the goddamn schwarze has no right to be America president. That campaign of lies, replete with a plethora of legal challenges, gave rise to the Birther movement, which led to the President’s two terms being met with unprecedented opposition in congress. This also gave birth to an even bigger liar, Donald Trump, who eventually won the White House. President Trump’s lies led to an insurrection as he refused to accept that he had lost his re-election campaign in 2020. Just imagine if President Obama had incited his followers to launch a siege on the Capitol, if he had lost his re-election campaign in 2012. Today, President Obama would be in jail if not sentenced to death for treason. Yet this bovine hateful White male, Donald Trump, whose flat skull in the back speaks to his being focussed exclusively in the reptilian brain and likely never having matured beyond it, pompously walks around spreading more lies and exhibits an air of entitlement because as a White male, it is behaviour that his fellow Americans deem perfectly acceptable.
Just as much as all Jews are not White, just as importantly, all Jews are not possessed of racial animus towards Blacks despite the Orly Taitzes and Angela Levins.Angela Levin knows damn well the offence that the blackamoor brooch caused the Sussexes because of its decidedly racist symbolism. She has known all along of the pain that this insult has caused the Sussexes. Angela is not stupid and she has to know that the Cambridges sanctioned it. Then when Princess Michael of Kent and family are sat so closes to the Cambridges, in an obvious slight against the Sussexes, all Angela Levin can do is daily incite anti-Black racism by further making unfavourable pronouncement about the Sussexes. Everything that Angela Levin does is pure propaganda; it is designed to make the masses unaware that at the heart of the blackamoor brooch incident is deep anti-Black racism that is not without its grudging connection by way of Lord Frederick Windsor’s Hollywood associations. As Jews cannot be seen to have any part of this racist scandal, Angela will night and day falsely accuse and make misleading assertions about the Sussexes. When then London mayor, Boris Johnson criticised President Obama for removing Winston Churchill’s bust from the White House’s oval office, he did so as an attack on President Obama for being Black and certainly Boris’ Kenyan remark validated this. Boris was pissed off at a Black being American president. What right does any Briton’s bust have to be in the White House? I am quite certain no American president’s bust has ever graced 10 Downing Street and never will. What Angela Levin has to assume responsibility for, is the anti-Black racism she incites, which had two podcasters prosecuted for their racist attack on the Sussexes and calling for both Archie & Harry to be assassinated. There is no way in high hell that Angela Levin would have been unrelentingly attacking the Sussexes if Harry had taken a Jewish bride as Lord Frederick Windsor did and she were subjected to anti-Semitism. Angela Levin is among the most vile, odious ‘royal expert’ because she, in her campaign of vilification of the Sussexes is the most ardent propagandist and apologist for the Cambridges, HRH Princess Michael of Kent and family. Of course we all know what insights Aatish Taseer, former lover of Gabriela Kingston née Windsor, Lord Frederick’s sister, shared about the real face of the Kents.
Let’s then review the timeline of events, which shows the real underlying currents and politics afoot.Whilst still officially a cast member on Suits, Meghan and Harry flew to Jamaica for Tom ‘Skippy’ Inskip and Lara Hughes-Young’s destination wedding.
May 20, 2017
On that day, Catherine’s sister, Pippa married James Matthews and one of the stipulations of the wedding was that only wedded women could attend the church service. This was soon proven bogus when HRH Princess Eugenie of York attended the wedding’s service with Jack Brooksbank to whom she was not yet wedded. Meghan, however, was allowed to attend the wedding reception and was never seen. The year prior, news broke of Prince Harry and Meghan’s relationship and straight away the racist attacks began.
It’s official, Meghan and Harry go public with their relationship in Hogtown. The photo-op at Toronto City Hall during the Invictus Game created quite the buzz. Clearly, they were moving towards an engagement announcement at which point, staunch bigots were saying that clearly HM The Queen was suffering dementia and there had to be an intervention. Oh Louella, clutch your pearls.
November 27, 2017
This is the event, the engagement interview with BBC that launched a tsunami of racist hatred that has remained unabated. Here, Meghan displayed a forthrightness, emotional intelligence, intellect and eloquence, which was in vast contrast to Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge. There was no denying that Meghan was possessed of greater charisma (she does have a Venus/Solar body type); nonetheless, the knives were out. This, of course, was in vast contrast to Prince William and Catherine’s engagement interview seven years earlier.
December 20, 2017
At HM The Queen’s annual Christmas lunch, Meghan was invited as a fiancée to the Buckingham Palace event and accompanied by Prince Harry. It was then that the blackamoor brooch made its appearance for which the racist, kinder Nazi dog speciously apologised days later and feigned ignorance that the brooch could possibly have given offence to the African-American future bride of Prince Harry’s – so said the racist boor who called black sheep on her Gloucestershire farm, Venus and Serena. Serena should have walked up to her at Frogmore House during the Sussexes wedding reception and bleated like an enraged sheep, turned and walked away. In 2003, the Kent minor royal gave an interview in which she stated that her son, Lord Frederick Windsor, did not have a drug problem and had only done cocaine once; if only because he had been filmed snorting cocaine back in 1999. At the time, HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales made a point of distancing his son, HRH Prince William from Lord Frederick as they were known to be best friends.
By December 2017 William and Lord Frederick remained best friends and at that point, Frederick was wedded to British born Jew, Sophie Winkelman who by the time that Meghan entered the scene had been working in Hollywood as an actress where she appeared on Two and a Half Men a TV comedy series, starring Ashton Kutcher whose wife Mila Kunis was said to be friends of the Windsors. One very interesting fact, Sophie is a very solid, no nonsense customer. With three 4s to her numerological makeup, I should think that she would find the Kents‘ racist conduct unsettling. She is a straight up real human. She would have three, where most would have a single, side hustle going on. Gossip serves no purpose for her. Her sole 5 is in first position and would be used to channel when in character as an actor. She is controlled; at times, too inclined to not extend herself – with these numbers – 5.4.4 = 4, she is one of the most sane royals. Certainly, it cannot be easy for her to know first-hand the dirty pool at play in her husband’s family. She will know to keep mum and focus on her duties as parent. With three 4s, she will always think before opening her mouth, painstakingly deliberates before any venture. Most of all, she does have a conscience and a sound moral compass.
On the eve of the royal wedding in 2018, Thomas Markle Sr. pulls out, claiming a health crisis.
May 18, 2018
As would emerge later in 2021, Catherine’s rude behaviour towards Meghan left the Black American bride-to-be in tears as she was not wanted. This does seem in keeping with Catherine banning Meghan from her sister, Pippa’s wedding exactly one year prior. Of course, the Cambridges, and Prince Charles were socially rude and dismissive of Meghan and her culture as witnessed after Charles returned to the quire, having signed the registry at St. George’s Chapel, Windsor Castle at the Sussexes’ wedding. Shockingly, after her racist attacked on Meghan at Buckingham Palace, the vulgar Princess Michael of Kent had the gall to show up at the wedding, if only because wherever there is a freebie and she gets to let the world know that she is royal, there she will be smugly grinning her stupid face off.
In the lead up to the wedding, HM The Queen’s dresser, Angela Kelly stood up Meghan for a tiara fitting; this was another sign of the ongoing campaign of harassment and bullying engaged in by royal household staffers and royals alike.
The racial predatory fixation on the Duchess of Sussex was palpable. It would prove the only time that she would attend royal Ascot.
Like everyone possessed of a 9 mindset, William is no different. His worldview is clearly legible. He openly ridiculed his brother’s wife’s culture at their wedding a month prior. Until their April 2022 platinum jubilee tour of Belize and the Caribbean, TRH Duke & Duchess of Cambridge declined touring predominantly Black commonwealth nations. His best friend’s mother wears a blackamoor brooch, which clearly is connected to his wife’s career in Hollywood. That woman, über kinder Nazi, having given gross offence to Blacks, then attends their wedding and if the open hostilities were not enough, the Sussexes only appearance at the platinum jubilee celebrations were at at St. Paul’s Cathedral where they were deliberately slighted by having the racially predatory blackamoor brooch-wearing minor Kents, doing the Cambridges dirty work, were sat closer to the two senior sovereign heirs, in violation of protocol, than other more senior royals. Conveniently, HM The Queen chose not to attend the church service; perhaps, to show her disproval or feign not being directly involved, which of course was not the case.
HRH Princess Eugenie’s lovely wedding to Jack Brooksbank. Here, Meghan is pregnant and on the eve of sharing that she is pregnant with her firstborn Archie. Look at Meghan a more seasoned performer, knowing that the cameras are rolling does not get sucked in by Catherine’s fake chatter as she tries outshining Meghan to the guests across the quire at St. George’s Chapel, Windsor.
The Sussexes conduct their first royal tour which proved them exceptionally popular and well-received. This did not go unnoticed by the senior royals with a grudge of Meghan, namely the Cambridges.
November 11, 2018
I took the preceding photograph and stood opposite the balcony where Meghan, Duchess of Sussex stood next to the German President’s wife at the Cenotaph. I had never experienced open hatred publicly as I did that day. It was all directed at the African-American on the balcony; it would prove her first of only two appearances at the event.
A couple of weeks later, Camilla Tominey of the Daily Telegraph published a story about Meghan having made Catherine cry, a response which the latter’s numerology would never support. This story was part of the campaign begun at sabotaging the Sussexes as a result of their successful Australia et al tour, which was their first official royal tour.
Meghan, Duchess of Sussex on December 10, 2018 presented Best Female Fashion Designer award at the Royal Albert Hall to Clare Waight Keller who designed her stunning wedding dress for Givenchy. There is part of the power of Meghan and why TRH Duke & Duchess of Cambridge so fear her; a mic in the hand of Meghan is the start of watching a most beautiful flower blossom before your eyes every time. For Catherine, it is and will ever remain but Kryptonite.
Archie is born and here he is presented to his great-grandparents HM The Queen and her consort, Prince Philip. Interestingly, the day that the news broke of the royal baby’s name on returning to the studio, BBC presenter, Jon Sople stated to a colleague on-air, ‘my friend has a dog named Archie,’ which was good for a vicious chuckle. Some people.
Meghan commits the cardinal sin and let’s on that things are not as they seem and that she has been desperately struggling to cope. Of course, this interview with Tom Brady occurred at the end of their very successful South African tour where Archie was seen for the first time.
Princess Charlotte’s first day of school where her older brother attends. They attend the school in Battersea as it is the school to which his best friend’s, Lord Frederick Windsor, children are enrolled. Lord Frederick’s wife is, a British Jew who works in Hollywood as an TV actress, the daughter-in-law of Princess Michael of Kent, who infamously wore the blackamoor brooch. Life is about being callously aware enough to make the necessary rigorous connections.
TRH Duke & Duchess of Cambridge on the BBC Christmas special A Berry Royal Christmas; yet another sign that this marriage is a chaotic, volatile mess but far be it from the fairy story-loving serfs to notice anything remotely resembling reality.
Whilst the Sussexes were holidaying in Canada, the annual Christmas message was aired to much hushed whispers. There were the photographs and not a single one of the Sussexes’ firstborn, Archie born earlier that year. Afterwards, the Sovereigns’ photographs ( HM King George VI, HM The Queen, HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales, HRH Prince William, Duke of Cambridge and HRH Prince George of Cambridge) was followed by the two senior Cambridge children on their first walkabout in Sandringham after Christmas Day service. Of course, none of this was coincidental, HM The Queen was preparing the public fot the Sussexes ouster from the royal family.
On returning from their holiday break in Canada, the Sussexes visit Canada House then officially announce that they are stepping back as working senior royals. Before you know what’s next, HM The Queen strips them of their patronages and Harry his official military titles. Thank god, Harry had the Invictus Games in his clutches when the dust was settled.
With Harry flying back and forth between England and Vancouver Island, the couple returned in early March to wrap up their royal commitments. Three spectacular outfits and Catherine did not waste time in deliberately ignoring Meghan, though, William nodded in Harry & Meghan’s direction. Yet another clue as to who really made whom cry.
In mid-March, the Sussexes were flown by Tyler Perry to a residence of his in Los Angeles so that they can start charting their new life journey.
Meghan, Duchess of Sussex wins her legal suit against Associated Newspaper!The Sussexes also released a photograph of the family with a very pregnant Meghan, Duchess of Sussex. Buckingham Palace also releases a statement stating that the Sussexes will no longer work on behalf of the royal family.
In the most elegant display of controlled anger, Meghan, Duchess of Sussex seized and corrected the narrative; she did not make that woman cry! Also, not only was Meghan definitely pregnant but an exuberant Prince Harry stated that they were having a girl and what a darling human she has proven. Racism at the senior royal level was exposed; of course, we know of the racist minor royal. At the time, I thought that it ought to have been repeated that HRH Princess of Michael of Kent had worn the blackamoor brooch as so many Americans and the global audience would not necessarily have been aware of the incident. Meghan, also revealed her thoughts of suicide at the unrelenting racial animus that she experienced in the British tabloids, the royal households and from some royals with the minor Kent family being wholly culpable. Of course, just like Lord Frederick Windsor’s best friend to come to minor Kents rescue and deny that the royal family could in any way be racist.
Whilst a very pregnant Meghan, Duchess of Sussex remained in California, Prince Harry attended his paternal grandfather’s funeral at Windsor Castle.
Meghan, Duchess of Sussex popped in during the mental health docuseries on Apple which Prince Harry undertook with Oprah Winfrey.
Lilibet Diana is reborn 4.6.2021 Ox 4.1.6 = 11. Unlike Prince Whackjob Mango, Lilibet has the grooviest numerology. You know too when a couple is in love, it is reflected in offspring’s numerology; Lilibet is perfectly harmonised numerologically with both parents and she has master number of 11. Lookout! They made the right call on leaving and that is deftly reflected in Lilibet’s; numbers.
Michael: This young fragment is a third-level mature sage – second life thereat. Lilibet is in observation mode with a goal of dominance and has an attitude of idealist.
Lilibet has neither centreing nor chief features at this time.
Lilibet’s body type is Mars Mercury.
The fragment Lilibet is second-cast in the third cadence. Lilibet is a member of greater cadence four. Lilibet is a member of entity two, cadre six, greater cadre 7, pod 418. (Adjacent entity, same cadre as her father, mother, brother, Prince George and The Queen).
Lilibet’s essence twin is a sage and the task companion a warrior incarnate at this time.
Lilibet’s needs are exchange, communion, adventure.
She has shared 8 past-life associations with Arvin and 5 with Merlin.
There is an agreement with the older brother for emotional support.
This fragment has been a revered performer in a recent past incarnation,
primarily operatic but with some aspect of light entertainment. She was also present in several lives of note in european aristocracy (Italy and Spain) End (August, 2021).
Meghan, Duchess of Sussex publishes children’s book, The Bench.
Prince Harry, Duke of Sussex returns to London for unveiling of memorial statue on the occasion of Diana, Princess of Wales’ 60th birthday. The statue is at the sunken garden at Kensington Palace. HRH Prince William, Duke of Cambridge was also present, along with Diana’s two sisters.
My favourite photograph of Meghan, Duchess of Sussex as there is a veneer of Margaret Beaufort, Tudor matriarch, mother of HM King Henry VII, grandmother to HM King Henry VIII & great-grandmother of HM Queen Elizabeth I. Obviously, for this accomplished reincarnated soul, she chose the wrong race – as far as the kingdom’s White tribe is concerned and that’s that. At the time of her 40th birthday, there was talk that she had been snubbed and not invited to President Obama’s 60th birthday celebrations. How stupid can people be? For one, Meghan had given birth two months prior; for another, it was a milestone birthday for both individuals.
Michael: This fragment is a mid-cycle mature artisan in the tradition of the deceased mother-in-law fragment who was Diana, Princess of Wales — third life thereat. Meghan is in the observation mode with a goal of acceptance. An idealist, Meghan is in the moving part of emotional centre.
Meghan’s primary chief feature is self-deprecation and the secondary of mild impatience.
Meghan’s body type is Venus/Solar.
The fragment Meghan is fourth-cast in the fifth cadence. Meghan is a member of greater cadence four. Meghan is a member of entity one, cadre six, greater cadre 7, pod 418 — she is an entity mate of both her spouse, HRH Prince Henry of Wales with whom she shares 20 past lives and also an obvious entity mate of Her Majesty, The Queen.
Meghan’s essence twin is an artisan and the task companion a warrior.
Meghan’s three primary needs are: expression, acceptance and expansion.
There are 4 past-life associations with Arvin and 6 with Merlin.
Incidentally, this artisan has been a member of the British royal family twice before. Firstly, as Margaret Beaufort, Countess of Richmond and Derby, she was the cousin of King Henry VI and mother of King Henry VII. As such she was the matriarch of the House of Tudor. Her grandson was Henry VIII and her great-granddaughter, Elizabeth I.
This artisan in that lifetime was involved in the sacraments of the church being included in the newly established college system. She founded Christ College, Cambridge and was instrumental with the founding of St. John’s College as well.
Secondly, she was HRH Prince Edward, Duke of York and Albany and younger brother to George III, whose father the Prince of Wales, HRH Prince Frederick died before acceding the throne after George II. In that lifetime, the artisan (now Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex) was interested in military structure. He, of course, died young of a then unknown illness but which had to do with dysentery.
Incidentally, in the current incarnation, Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex has suffered from gastroenteritis, which is related to the last-life health issues – this is the immediate past life and not that in 18th century when the artisan died aged 28.
The Duke & Duchess of Sussex made triumphant appearance at the Global Citizen Concert in New York City’s central park.
In the second video clip from the James Bond film premier, pay attention to the 40 second mark. Catherine arrives at the top of the stairs and greets Camilla, HRH Duchess of Cornwall, looks over to William and cuts her eye at him. She hissed at him throughout their interactions. When their relationship blows up it will be no surprised for those who aren’t gullibly deluded.
Bot Sentinel’s Christopher Bouzy releases report that documented a targeted, racist attack on the Duke & Duchess of Sussex on bot Twitter accounts.
Rihanna attends ceremony at which HRH Prince Charles presided at HM The Queen’s removal as head-of-state on the island becoming a republic. Naturally, as she couldn’t carry her defensive parasol at night time, Camilla did not accompany the future sovereign.
Meghan, Duchess of Sussex dropped by the Ellen Degeneres show, with whom she has been familiar for years. Light-hearted, the Duchess was professional, engaging, utterly charming plugged The Bench with a giveaway and also highlighted a small charity, which was awarded funding from the Sussexes’ charity, Archewell.
The Sussexes seasonal card for Christmas, 2021.
Harry & Meghan honoured with the President’s Award at the annual NAACP Image Awards. Coming through! Forget the firm and its enslaved timid souls. There is no greater pride than being self-made. Meghan’s been there, done that as have you, Harry, with the success of the Invictus Games. Keep soaring higher still!
TRH Duke & Duchess of Cambridge were on royal tour of the Caribbean where thanks to the obvious racism within the royal family, the blackamoor brooch and the Sussexes’ Oprah interview spring to mind, there were talks aplenty of removing the Crown as head of state and a formal apology by the Duke of Cambridge in Jamaica for the stain that was slavery. Catherine whilst in Belize rudely brushed off a local Black dancer in one of those utterly spontaneous moves that betrays both her bigotry and 9 energy body. Apart from that, Catherine lost herself in her only armour, clothing, that made one think drag king rather than not.
As Prince Andrew was stripped of his royal duties, he escorted his mum, HM The Queen to her seat then sat on the front row. So that he would not be seen to be slighted, he was sat next to the Wessexes, who were the only working royals who sat on that side of the aisle. As per protocol, on HM The Queen’s side of the aisle were the crown prince, HRH Prince Charles & his wife, HRH Princess Anne, The Princess Royal and her bedfellow. They were followed by TRH Duke & Duchess of Cambridge and their two older children. The minor Kents who were also at the platinum jubilee service at St. Paul’s Cathedral were sat as would be expected; they were, rightly so, sat behind the York Princesses, the Dukes of Gloucester and Kent and their spouses. This, however, was not the case at St. Paul’s as clearly one needed to drive home to the Duke of Sussex and his Black wife, “You can’t take a joke? Tough! We don’t give a fuck, now get lost!”
Harry & Meghan opened the very successful Invictus Games at the Hague. Prior to their arrival in the Netherlands, they stopped off at Windsor Castle and visited with HM The Queen.
On the eve of HM The Queen’s platinum jubilee celebrations, old wussmeister turns Stroke-A-Joke and bows out of being hosted on the isle of rabid racist rats by none other then Lady Rotherqueer and that uncouth drag queen, Lord George Nonesuch. In other news, fat-assed baby-seller was dropped by her legal representatives because clearly it is not good for one’s image if one’s client is positively full of shit. Seriously, someone suffering a major stroke should not be able to support their head and upper body or encouraged to by attending paramedics as Markle Sr. is in that photograph, unless of course, it was all staged.
After having been hidden from view at Horse Guards Parade the day prior, the Sussexes arrived at St. Paul’s Cathedral to be scowled at by the majority of congregants en route to their seats, which turned out to be vulgar slap in the face. As the seating protocol was scrapped to accommodate the entire minor Kent family, being closest to the Cambridges, Charles & Camilla even more so than the more senior Wessexes. Disgraced, after having escorted his mum, HM The Queen, at Westminster Abbey, Prince Andrew was sat across the aisle in the front row and not the second as were the Sussexes at St. Paul’s and four places in from the aisle. Now Harry has been given the all-clear to throw the sink at the lot in his upcoming memoir.
This placement of the blackamoor brooch-wearing Princess Michael of Kent has ignited talk of removing the crown as head of state in many predominantly Black commonwealth nations. The government of Jamaican has begun the process of removing the crown as head-of-state a week after the platinum jubilee celebrations. Harry & Meghan, the ball’s in your court, step up and give it to them good.
As ever, life is like a flying dream; if you look down, you’re fucked. Enjoy the ride and fear no one!
Plus ça change… Oopsie, can’t make it to the wedding. Look whatta want, I’m just a wuss and afraid of flying. Let’s pull a health scare.
Along come these two racially obsessed jackasses, fully convinced that they are right in treating Meghan, Duchess of Sussex as though she were a fugitive from Justice for which they intend to get the ransom. Oh wow, look at that, on the eve of travelling to be hosted by these two blasted cretins, big wussmeister pulls another health scare and goes and hides in his corner. Meanwhile, to save face, Lord George Nonesuch talks grandly of all the things that they had in store for wussmeister numero un on his arrival for HM The Queen’s platinum jubilee celebrations. Really, Lady Rotherqueer, like somehow you were going to get that blasted fat coward to be sat next to the Duke and Duchess of Sussex at St. Paul’s Cathedral.
Equally, Lord George of Nonesuch was blithering on, horrid acting and all, about all the places little Tommy fat-arsed was going to be wined, dined and entertained. One of the topmost ducal families… And so fucking what? And is that ducal host a grandson of Sovereign as well as son of the future Sovereign and brother of another future Sovereign? No, well see here ducky, who gives a fuck?
Let’s make this perfectly clear, never in all your scheming, will you ever get either the Duke or Duchess of Sussex to meet with that man or have their children exposed to such an obviously compromised, sorry excuse for a man. Family my ass. As Tommy fat ass has illustrated, sooner or later we all shed skin and move on. Trust you me, two hundred years hence, when you and that pompous Jackass of trifling import, are long gone, historians will be callous with the truth.
Contemporaneously, all the Sussexes detractors bleat on ad nauseam about Meghan, Duchess of Sussex having played the race card. None of these persons ever comment on the blackamoor brooch. In writing alleged royal biographies they dance around the issue and never mention it. Somehow, it is of no import. The reason for HRH Princess Michael of Kent having worn the blackamoor brooch is because her son, Lord Frederick Windsor, one of HRH Prince William, Duke of Cambridge’s closest familial bonds, is married to a British Jew who works in Hollywood as an actor. It is that connection to Jews in Hollywood that resulted in the blackamoor brooch having been worn to HM The Queen’s Christmas Lunch in 2017, weeks after Harry & Meghan officially announced their engagement and at which Meghan clearly was present. That was to let the American negro know that the Cambridges did not approve of the union and clearly had given their consent to attack the Black American fiancée of the Duke’s younger brother, HRH Prince Henry of Wales as princess flat-arsed, rhino stumps viciously masqueraded before the world’s media and those in Hollywood that she was doing as was directed.
Always, connect the damn dots. So close are the Cambridges to the (Kents) Windsors that William elected to have his two children, HRH Prince George of Cambridge and HRH Princess Charlotte of Cambridge enrol at the same school in Battersea at Lord Frederick and his Jewish wife’s. That speaks to the racism in Hollywood – again, if 9-1-1 had no happened, Halley Berry would not have won a best actress Oscar in 2002, which has yet to be repeated – especially so when Viola Davis absurdly won best-supporting actress Oscar for Fences, a role which was a lead actress award-winning role on Broadway.