Oftentimes, the obvious though staring you right in the face still evades notice. Born August 4, 1981 and therefore a Rooster, Meghan had a signature which explains her phenomenal impact. As she proved to be possessed of master numbers, like myself, I readily identified with her but there was more in the numbers that I still did not get. In numerology when someone is possessed of 432 in their make-up, they are said to be living a Reward Life. They are also said to be possessed of magic because those 432 are perfectly harmonised with 432 hertz which is about being harmonious, smooth, inspiring and uplifting.
Just listen to that voice.
There is nothing like letting your enemies know that they have failed and never will they succeed. Just you wait until SPARE goes live and the Sussexes are truly revealed to Americans, and the world at large, come to see the House of Windsor for the cabal of racist, peg-loving, homo-obsessed boors that they truly are.
And then something quite remarkable occurred. As I prepared for this blog, I rewatched Harry & Meghan’s interview with Oprah for CBS. Little did I know that I as I slept, Meghan’s claims of the structural racism within the BRF was about to irrefutably validated.
Then, of course, there is this one. Queen Elizabeth leaves to pass eternity reunited with her one true love, Lord Porchy whilst Philip awaits the arrival of Princess Alexandra of Kent & Penelope Knatchbull, Countess Mountbatten of Burma.
Alas, never you mind all that. As karma would have it, timing is everything. Before the Prince and Princess of Wales could touch down at Boston’s Logan Airport, yet another royal tour was coming undone at the seams. From being booed outright to less than 50 persons showing up outside Boston City Hall to greet them. More telling is that both Caroline Kennedy and John Kerry were a no-show when Lady Susan Hussey’s racist attack proved a nuclear dirty bomb to rock the House of Windsor.
Warring famille de Galles at their KarmaShot thingy…. dommage!
Whatever made you think that your savage empire would rape us of gold, diamonds, humans whom you readily enslaved and there would be no karmic retribution?
“What Didn’t You Do to Bury Me But You Forgot I Am A Seed” Meghan Duchess of Sussex, quoting Dinos Christianopoulos.
Go on Nancy, sing the soul out of this baby for the love we bear Harry & Meghan and their enriched inner circle. Mad props to Netflix, Tyler Perry, Oprah Winfrey and everyone who got these two loving souls to the promise land. Sing it, Nancy!
As ever, Life is like a flying dream; if you look down, you’re fucked. Enjoy the ride and fear no one!
Knowing when to leave is key to perfect timing. Elizabeth was a mean, grasping, manipulative – it is the hallmark of slave souls – vindictive operator. It is good that she has finally taken leave. Elizabeth acted as though the crown was hers to wear for at least a millennium.
Just look at HRH Prince Richard, Duke of Gloucester incredulously peer across at HM King Charles III with his beefy equerry sat directly behind him in the royal box; of course, there was no room for the Earl and Countess of Wessex as a result. There was sat the Duke of Gloucester who with a look telegraphed, “Well, will you look at that! He’s got his lover right here in the royal box for the world to see. What must cousin Lilibet, looking down from above, be thinking? Major Jonathan Thompson is not even in uniform but crossdressing in civilian suit. Just look at him, a mere senior footman standing in the royal box and clapping away as though he were a royal spouse… Also, pay keen attention to the Duchess of Gloucester as she keenly eyes Catherine, HRH Princess of Wales. That look betrays the tectonic state of the Waleses’ marriage. One would think that the Duchess of Gloucester is eyeing up Catherine as she cannot believe the woman would have the nerve to sit there after openly flirting with Sir Ben Ainslie and telegraphing to all the world that they are fucking their brains out.
Indeed! Though the Fleet Street abattoirs are ill-inclined to betray the ugly truths of House of Windsor, rest assured that the American media, especially American tabloid media, could not care less. Of course, they have a vested interested in the Windsor dynasty as a second American woman has recently wedded and been met with undiluted hatred and rejection. Although, that rejection is decidedly racist, nonetheless, all Americans are Americans and will defend another over any foreigner, especially so when America fought and won a war to depose that very dynasty.
Darlings I’ve simply got to start ordering teas by the hamper… The Second Carolean era just keeps on giving…
This actor did a phenomenal job of bringing forth the true fire that was HRH Princess Margaret, Countess Snowdon’s. God, it was delicious theatre, watching her rip into her mean-spirited sister and giving it to her good when she called her on the fact that Elizabeth deliberately interfered in her life and caused her pain and ruin whilst never having done any such thing to her slutty daughter, Anne. As the Crown depicted and passingly implied, Princess Anne could have fucked Tim Lawrence in the open on a farm and no one would have noticed or reported it in the media. Her performance brings to mind that every actor who ever portrays HRH Princess Margaret must study Elizabeth Taylor in the Mike Nichols classic, “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” This is why in the earlier season of the Crown, the actor Helena Bonham Carter’s casting was wrong. She was stiff and hadn’t the passion or fire to convincingly project Margaret’s rage
The actor who played Queen Mary was perfectly placed. The scene was brief and a flashback that was of major import. Look at her, there she is dripping in pearls and finery as the Romanovs did. She gave the order for their murder and all because she waned the Romanov jewellery, coming to her. A truly vile character. Her inclusion beautifully sets up next season, which deals with Diana’s murder and this scene of Mary giving the order to have the Romanov’s murder, so she could get their jewels, establishes that no one should think otherwise when it comes to next season, Season 6, and Diana’s murder.
The producers and creative geniuses of The Crown Season 5 did their homework and boy did they execute masterfully, beautifully. This entire episode sets up what’s to come in Season 6, Diana, Princess of Wales’s death. By laying the groundwork and showing that because HM Queen Mary’s callous avariciousness, the Romanovs would be slaughtered just so that Queen Mary, who considered the Tsarina a rival, could get her hands on the Russian royals’ jewels. Queen Mary was a vile, ruthless Victorian misogynist who, of course, was Queen Elizabeth’s chief mentor. There can be no doubt that the late Queen Elizabeth viewed Diana, Princess of Wales as much a rival as Queen Mary viewed the Tsarina. For that, like Alexandra, the Tsarina, Diana had to be murdered for proving herself a damn threat. She ruined the fairy story by not playing along; most of all, she threatened the institution by preparing to start a rival dynasty with Mohamed Al-Fayed’s son, Dodi, a non-White Muslim.
Goodness me, whatever shall the little people think? Who damn well cares what they think? The royals do as they have always done!
Here, again, the casting of Netflix’s The Crown, season 5, is flawless. Nuanced and perfectly measured, both actors bring forth the appropriate amount of repugnant arrogance and conceited lack of awareness. Perfectly timed, as though murdered Diana’s revenge, Season 5 lays bare the adulterers’ vulgarity just as they accede the throne. King Charles III, the Tampax King with his two teddies – one inanimate from childhood, the other a virile, kilted, furry teddy that throbs and makes nights at Highgrove especially pleasurable whilst the failed future King Mother and Courtesan Queen languishes away at Ray Mill; one thing is plainly obvious, the Courtesan Queen does not crochet doilies at Ray Mill.
Having nicely set up the case for Diana, Princess of Wales having been murdered in the upcoming season 6 of the Crown, one other thing ought to be taken into account. In 1918, when Queen Elizabeth’s mentor, Queen Mary gave the order to have the Romanovs murdered, that would be signified by the planet Uranus – one dynasty overthrows or eliminates another. Uranus rules violent upheaval, revolutionary action and usually from one institution against another. As Diana, Princess of Wales was a most disruptive rebel, the only course of action left Queen Mary’s devout mentor, Queen Elizabeth II, was to eliminate the threat of Diana. Diana was about to marry a non-White Muslim and start a rival dynasty, which would have utterly eclipsed the Windsors not just at the Fleet Street abattoirs but world media.
Diana and Dodi died at Diana’s natal Pluto’s transit forming a square; that coupled with her fourth numerological signature of 7, meant very public and totally unexpected assassination. A Uranus return takes roughly 84 years, Queen Elizabeth reacted 79 years later as Queen Mary had to the threat of a rival dynasty, the Romanovs relocating to the United Kingdom – there is a five year window on either side for that Uranus return’s effect to be initialised. Closer to the exacting 84 years and Diana and Dodi would have had a wedding and begun a family that would simply have eclipsed Charles and Diana’s wedding as clearly Diana would finally have found true love. There is positively no way that the well-groomed Victorian misogynist, Queen Elizabeth II, would have tolerated any such affront to her dynasty, especially when Diana would have avenged herself by bearing step-siblings of the future supreme governor of the Church of England to a Muslim. The Windsor dynasty was violently preventing the eventualisation of a rival dynasty begun by Diana, Princess of Wales and one of an opposing faith.
Imelda Staunton as Queen Elizabeth II was sublime casting. She is pitch perfect and gets every nuanced idiosyncrasy right. As Elizabeth II is a mature slave soul, a sage soul in passion mode with emotional centring would be disastrous. Imelda may well be a slave soul herself.
Though a departure from season 5, I do feel that there needs be some commentary on the actors who played the major roles across the five seasons. Claire Foy was a major reason for the Crown’s initial success and gave The Crown the legs to become the seminal British royal family drama that it has become. She is diffident, economical and sublime. The complete opposite can be said for Olivia Colman, who is Olivia in every role she plays. She is crass, common and as conspicuously frightful and self-conscious as a damn ostrich.
As Princess Margaret’s casting is concerned, Vanessa Kirby was ravishing to look at; she had depth, emotional rawness when required and was utterly captivating to watch. Hers was a brilliant performance. Helena Bonham Carter was simply a toft playing a toft and Princess Margaret was never a toft; she was royal to the core. Clearly, Lesley Manville captures the essence of Margaret’s inner rage. Helena was supposed to have captured Margaret’s passion, debauchery and her creative brilliance and that never materialised.
As there is only one Diana, there is only one actor who has singularly, successfully captured the essence of Diana, Princess of Wales and not until Elizabeth Debicki in Season 5 of The Crown has this been achieved. Spot on, this actor’s portrayal is note perfect and as close to channelling Diana, as it were, as you can possibly hope for. Singularly focussed, she gives an award-worthy performance of rare brilliance.
Just look at this artist step aside and allow the very essence of discarnate Diana, Princess of Wales to move in and prosecute her case. This is a most brilliant performance, in a season teeming with stellar performances. There has never been a more successfully cast group of actors for any one season of this fantastic series.
I’ve a little Diana, Princess of Wales anecdote. The night of the preceding photograph in October, 1991, I was across King Street West at Simcoe Street at Roy Thomson Hall for an Emmanuel Ax recital. As I had seasons tickets to the Toronto Symphony Orchestra, I managed with plans for a hook up after the concert to attend. God only knows, I could never abide Emmanuel Ax’s too-short arms and legs as he bobs around the stool, trying to make keys and pedals. I have only ever had two favourite pianists whom I have seen live, Vladimir Horowitz and the scholarly high priest himself, Alfred Brendel (his Michael Overleaves will conclude this blog). Of course, for having met and loved Merlin, Glenn Gould has become a favourite, forming the perfect troika of inspiring classical pianists.
When the recital concluded, I made my way north along Simcoe Street to King Street West where I planned to go in search of some stimulating companionship. The placed was packed and I hadn’t a clue what was up. Finally, someone said that Princess Diana was at the Royal Alexandra Theatre, which was going to be letting out soon. Making my way west along the south side of King Street West, I stood opposite the theatre’s entrance and realised that it was no place to be. Gingerly, I made my way west along the street, made it across the intersection and began doubling back due east along the north side of King Street West. Charmingly, I bobbed and dodged my way until I was second row deep behind a diminutive Filipina, who stood behind he barricade in front of which was a conga line of persons in wheelchairs. Obviously, as this was the early 90s, cell phones were as yet ubiquitous and why I would have a camera for going to the symphony would be a gauche notion at the time. The sturdy-looking limousine pulled up and to my left, though I could not see, the doors to the theatre opened and impresario Ed Mirvish emerged with the world’s most photographed woman.
Never had I witnessed such a massive explosion of klieg fabulousness as that moment as Diana, Princess of Wales stepped away from her hosts and stepped into the marquee lights. She was tall, commanding and arrestingly beautiful. Eventually, when she made her way down the roster of wheelchair fans, she reached from time to time to the sheer pandemonium of squeals, cries, shrieks and outstretched trembling arms baring frantic trembling fingers. As nothing she said could be heard, I managed to clasp her hand, said “we love you more” as she worked the crowd like a pro. What struck me about her in that moment as the flashbulbs went off, like a million stars simultaneously going nova, was how steely, masculine, tall and warrior-like she was. In that moment, her striking blue eyes so focussed and direct, she with her statuesque singleness of devotion, was like a Maasai warrior aloft whilst dancing. Then my darlings, Diana, Princess of Wales, did the most phenomenal thing that left me teary eyed, she got to the limousine and as the passenger side rear door was opened, she got inside elongating her neck, whilst bracing her body on the car’s frame when swinging her knees together, feet together, pushing off from the metatarsals and swinging are rangy legs into the car in one of the most sublime port de bras witnessed. Well, you better believe that I was hooked to the core. Of course, to that point, she was merely the ultimate self-absorbed famous person whose motto seemed to be, “I’m a rich White girl, take my picture.”
Of course, four years later, Diana, Princess of Wales, now separated from the future, HM King Charles III, made it perfectly clear that she was in control and not the crazy wingnut that she and every artisan at some point or another will be dismissed as by the masses. Diana, Princess of Wales’s interview with Martin Bashir aired on the BBC on Guy Fawkes Night, November 5, 1995. That move will see her transcend history as someone who was infinitely more shrewd and astute than the mere mortals of her age were aware. Unlike Oliver Cromwell, Diana, Princess of Wales successfully prosecuted her case to the kingdom, the world and most importantly, history. Naturally, like Cromwell, her interview and the subsequent relationship with the Muslim Al-Fayed family would be deemed treasonous by the Victorian misogynist, Queen Elizabeth II, who just as ruthlessly and casually had her assassinated as her mentor Queen Mary had Tsarina Alexandra and her family a Uranus return earlier.
Mou Mou, the most gloriously well-written and acted episode of The Crown. At every turn, the actor who portrayed Mohamed Al-Fayed left me teary-eyed or smiling by his brilliant performance. He effortlessly captured every idiosyncrasy of the Mohamed we have come to know in the media. The actor deftly captured the essence of this endearing mensch with bravura and sublime impishness. It was the only episode that I immediately had to re-watch to both fall in love and get all the nuances that the teary fog of me had missed. Of course, there were many beautiful scenes but one which was rather telling is of The Queen sending her emissaries to have items of the Duke of Windsor’s removed from his French chateau. This shows the Victorian misogynist mentoring of Queen Elizabeth by Queen Mary – ever grasping and coveting all manner of material things. No care in the world for the Duke & Duchess of Windsor whilst he was living but the moment he passes, they are keen on the Duchess’s invitation to swoop in and claw at whatever they fancied… crass.
Indeed, in time, how could anyone possibly have expected HM The Queen, to have related to the Duke & Duchess of Sussex otherwise. She was groomed by the monstrous Victorian misogynist, HM Queen Mary to be shrewdly calculating, murderous if necessary, defender of the saturnal aspects of what being Sovereign entails. She and the rest of he senior royals could have behaved no differently to the Sussexes. Most of all, The Queen did not care to countenance any talk of racism being in any way associated with the House of Windsor. Just suck it up and get on with it, despite, the hideous open racial harassment from HRH Princess Michael of Kent, sporting the blackamoor brooch. Trust me, if she were to emboldened to go public with the racially predatory lynching of Meghan, you can bet that there was unrelenting, unfathomable racism within the royal family and the institution towards the Sussexes.
Could there have been a better cast member for this season, 5, of The Crown. This actor performed his role immaculately to the letter. The fluidity and communion of spirits between him and Mohamed Al-Fayed was successfully captured by both actors’ nuanced and elegant performances, even when Mohamed was being inelegant.
This actor, though similar in look, did not capture the essence of whom Penelope Knatchbull, Countess Mountbatten of Burma is. Above all else, with a energy body of 7, the late Prince Philip’s lover at her very core is a courtesan and would not only damn well do as she pleases but not give a damn who noticed. With a first number of 7, Penelope is almost mannish in her domineering energy body and would prove vastly intimidating for the late Queen Elizabeth II, who already had a secondary chief feature of self-deprecation which means that she would have serious self-esteem issues. Energy body of 7 and born in the year of the snake, the late Queen Elizabeth II was no match for this woman.
The role would have been better served if the actor, Gillian Anderson, who capably showed her mettle were to have been cast as Penelope. Ms. Anderson ensouled the very essence of the persona of Baroness Thatcher. A snake female, Penelope, with an energy body of 7, is the kind of customer who would take a riding crop and beat to death a mere mortal and get away with it; she would also not ever once think about the incident thereafter. All snake women possessed of an energy body of 7 are true courtesans; they are supremely amoral. Gillian would have the right steely comportment to deftly portrait the real Penelope, which may have positively nothing to do with the persona the public sees; and isn’t this almost always the case for famous persons?
Well, hold on tightly duckies, there is lots more to come. Season 6 of the Crown promises Diana’s murder. More than that, it should have flashbacks to the marriage of the Duke & Duchess of York as in penultimate seasons 7 & 8, the fallout of paedophilia allegations for associating with Jeffrey Epstein will see his cancer-stricken mother come undone. Of course, HM The Queen died aged 96; more importantly, she died 25 years after Diana, Princess of Wales’s murder. It takes 24 years for a grand Solar cycle to unfold and all self-karma, created when a karmic debt is initiated as in Diana’s murder, leads to the debtor’s self-immolation. Philip and Elizabeth slowly immolated as the avenging of Diana’s murder took its toll, Philip at exactly 24 years and Elizabeth II a year later. There are no coincidences and Time reveals all truth.
There can be no mistaking the fact that the structural racism, the case for which was made by HRH Princess Michael of Kent’s blackamoor brooch incident and Prince Harry’s memoir SPARE, nicely serve as ample source material for seasons 7 & 8. By then, all the tea with regards Catherine and Ben Ainslie, William’s Tampax moment, which has left him #PrinceofPegging to say nothing of Charles and his teddies one 70 plus years old and other other a virile furry equerry. Let’s also not forget Rose and her come-back pussy, which resulted in the then Cambridges being banished to Adelaide Cottage from Anmer Hall. Also, Camilla’s obvious racism should be highlighted by her need for a parapluie when touring the amongst the ‘darkies’ so that she doesn’t have to shake their hands, which explains why she did not go to the night time declaration of statehood in Barbados and her recent touching a Black girl’s sleeve rather than hold her hand. Then, too, there is the banishment and exodus of the Sussexes to America to successfully escape the hideous spitefulness of the next generation Waleses.
Brendel, Alfred 5/1/1931 Czech Republic
Michael: This fragment is a first level old scholar – second life thereat. Alfred is in the perseverance mode with a goal of dominance. A pragmatist, he is in the moving part of intellectual centre.
Body type is Lunar/Mars /Mercury.
Alfred’s primary chief feature is self-deprecation and the secondary stubbornness.
The fragment Alfred is fourth-cast in first cadence, he is a member of greater cadence two. Alfred’s entity is two, cadre five, greater cadre 6, pod 208.
Alfred’s essence twin is a scholar and his warrior task companion is known to him.
Alfred’s three primary needs are: exchange, communion and security.
There are 6 past-life associations with Arvin and 4 with Merlin.
As ever, Life is like a flying dream; if you look down, you’re fucked. Enjoy the ride and fear no one!
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!
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.
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!
Look at Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge’s reaction just after the 40 second mark. She turns and looks back and over to her left across the aisle at the Sussexes, then remarks ‘wow’ on returning her gaze ahead. Of course, before doing so, she nervously looked at her husband, HRH Prince William, Duke of Cambridge. That look from Catherine validates her obsession with Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, having bullied her and been engaged in a campaign of harassment that they never foresaw, turning out as it has. William, on the other hand, is the most stubborn, difficult, conceited prick you can possibly hope to come across; he is feared, just as every White male with power is always obsequiously deferred to rather than not. Both William and Catherine are mature souls with primary chief features of stubbornness with a secondary of arrogance; they will never change their position on the Duchess of Sussex.
Both acutely uncomfortable for being amongst poor, undesirable minorities, William kept looking at the program rather than interacting overlong with the two Black males to his left. Meanwhile, Catherine perpetually flicked her hair as it was a way of keeping her hand from extending to the little people. She was acutely uncomfortable being there and looked in desperate need for at least a couple of fags. Furthermore, there were two reasons for being there, it is where Meghan had made her mark, reaching out to the displaced Grenfell residents, which resulted in the Together cookbook. The Cambridges would have insisted on attending the event, rather than the Wessexes, as it was a way to further tear their flat arses in Meghan, Duchess of Sussex’s face. Akeen photographer, Catherine knew to directly look down the way into the camera, channelling her best mean-girl, gloating fuck-you stare. Just remember mousy inarticulate wallflower, Louis is the product of your hatefulness; he is not Meghan & Harry’s child.
Honest to god, Elizabeth looks truly spent. History will not be kind to her as it will be deemed that she cared more about corgis and gee-gees than the perpetual masquerade of scandals that marked her reign. Either Fleet Street has the goods on her or she fears them. However, her inability to seize control and right the ship from the earliest days of her eight-decade reign (she is in the 71st year) with Princess Margaret’s relations to the latest with the racism at the heart of the Windsor royals – it saw the exit of the Duke & Duchess of Sussex which they and Fleet Street have treated as though it were owing to some action on the part of the either Sussex. The mere fact that they think this, was borne home by having that flat-arsed racist kinder Nazi boor, Princess Michael of Kent, sat unorthodoxly close to HM The Queen’s two senior most heirs at the platinum jubilee service at St. Paul’s Cathedral on June 3, 2022.
Charles was made to marry Diana, whom they all could not stand and treated like dirt, because they had to cover the reality that there was a relocated illegitimate, sequestered in the colonies about whom one had to be mum. Of course, to have her way, Camilla stayed in the picture, how was this even possible if not allowed by HM The Queen, and bullied Diana and secured her position by threatening full discloser by proffering the lie that James Hewitt, rather than Charles, was Harry’s father. She is cunning and they buckled because had she gone with the other option, the truth, there would be a scandal afoot that they would rather not contemplate, to say nothing of confront.
Just as Catherine cannibalises Meghan at every opportunity, so too did Camilla cannibalise Diana, drove her out of the picture and finally had her exiled on a tiny isle at Althorp. So let’s call her what she is, having successfully cannibalised Diana, none of this Duchess nonsense; she is Camilla, HRH Princess of Wales, the anti-feminist. That’s all one needs, women cannibalising women. Had regurgitating, chain-smoking, flat-arsed über mean-girl, Catherine not driven off the infinitely more charismatic, self-made, accomplished, articulate and intelligent Meghan, the Duchess of Sussex would rightly have been at the Grenfell fifth anniversary gathering. So hard-faced Catherine sits there, fucking the camera with her callous stare exclusively intended for Meghan and, of course, just so that Meghan would not mistake the intention, what does old ashtray-breathed do, she wears Chanel sandals just as Meghan had months earlier in the Hague whilst attending the Invictus Games with her ruggedly handsome entity mate and life partner, Prince Harry – father of two very beautiful and loved children neither of whose gestation was passed in a crucible of hatred, exhibit ‘C’ reincarnated Shaniqua, HRH Prince Louis of Cambridge, Straight the frig out of Compton. At the end of the day, Catherine is as petty as she is because, observe to whom she is wedded.
One good thing that’s come of all this, is that the Norwegian royals will not be seen to be a bunch of racist arsehats like the Windsors. Martha Louise and her fiancé will be allowed to live their lives like two adult humans in love.
The best way to hide a secret is to do so in plain sight, fools perceive nothing. Just think, Prince Charles always wanted a daughter but if Diana were to have a third child and it also proved a redhead, like Prince Harry’s two children, it would not be Harry’s parentage which people would today be questioning. There was way too much at risk, thus, William was protected.
Neptune conjunct the ascendant; you have no idea who the hell you are dealing with. These persons are completely opposite the well-cultivate façade that they project. Neptune is the planet of deception and it is what you get first and foremost; you can be deceived if you so choose. His very role in the fairy story is that of being what generations of gaslighting will have you see in him. These persons are the biggest con artists and they do not give a fuck about you, the enthralled. His Sun in Cancer is conjunct the descendant the planet of the life partner/wife. There. too, is the Moon in Cancer and also conjunction the Sun and descendant. This is the perfect portrait of Catherine; she completely controls and dominates this very compromised man – his mother’s violent early death is paramount in this internal dynamic. Moon and Sun both oppose Neptune. It is bad enough that his Sun opposes Neptune and is opposite the ascendant – he is a detached individual and certainly this is ideal for a scholar soul; he is not here to be Diana 2.0. Most of all, Moon opposite Neptune brings with it hidden machinations, the scope of which one could never have fathomed and these are issues that always blow up well beyond one’s scope to properly stage-manage and control once the combustible goes nuclear. The Moon is the wife/life partner as represented by Catherine but she also represents the Sun. At the core of it all, William reincarnated into the House of Windsor to afford Catherine access to the crown. Had she been born female and Diana’s firstborn, she would have been passed over in favour of Prince Harry. Catherine wanted to be female and the best path to the throne was via her task companion, the weaker of the pairing, William. That Neptune conjunct the descendant speaks to the massive deception around whom William truly is and why Diana had to be removed for attempting to pull the same move against the Duke of Lancaster for a second time as she dangled a very probable marriage and family with Dodi, starting a rival dynasty rooted in another of the Abrahamic faiths. Faced with another disastrous family scandal, what was HM The Queen to do but anoint Camilla, so that she can get back to being happily focussed on corgis and gee-gees.
Catherine plays silly games and both Cambridges ever will; for being possessed of 9 in their numerology and task companions, ever will they keep pushing the envelope. The Cambridges have been greatly facilitated by their Fleet Street henchmen; however, make no mistake about it, they will once Elizabeth II is offstage, turn on William. He will attempt to irreparably curtail their powers once his sexual scandals blow up and they, as karma would have it, will cause him to rue the day he took Fleet Street vipers to bed. With Mercury trine his Mars/Saturn conjunction, one sees how thoroughly William has Fleet Street in his thrall. They, however, by the very nature of the beast (Saturn) will exact their pound of flesh. A Saturn return is 27.5 to 29.5 years; expect adverse effects/fallouts for the Cambridges with regards Fleet Street/Media at large as per their diabolical deceitful, racist campaign against the Duke & Duchess of Sussex.
2017, Cambridges’ racist agent, Princess Michael of Kent, begins their campaign against the Sussexes going public beyond the palace walls. She then attends the Sussexes’ wedding in May 2018. Finally, to make the point unmistakably clear, the flat-arsed, kinder Nazi Princess Michael of Kent is sat closest to Charles & William at St. Paul’s Cathedral during the Sussexes’ only public appearance during HM The Queen’s platinum jubilee. Saturn return, 30 years max to the blackamoor brooch’s first appearance 2017, is 2047. At 2034, William will be 51 and experience his Chiron return; he will be smeared and caught up in uneclipsed scandal of some form. By 2042, William is 60 years and his second Saturn return, where repayment of karma created during the incarnation is addressed and for William, it will be rather public. 2062 and William is 80 at the midpoint of the Neptune return, which means all the façade, deception and conceited arrogance are fully unmasked and there is a complete reversal in how this man is perceived, either way history always takes care of all egotistical follies. What kind of kingdom will there be to celebrate in 2066 and the start of the second millennium of the monarchy when William is 84; it will be year of the Dog, during which he was born. Indeed, will it be HM King George VII at age 53 then sovereign? With a fourth number of 5, William is guaranteed to be exposed via sexual scandal and unmasked as a racist; the blackamoor brooch scandal is most definitely the means by which this will fully be accomplished, thanks to having been conceited enough with going with his racist campaign against “that woman;” at that point, Princess Michael of Kent will be long dead and what would have been the point? HM The Queen’s Christmas lunch, 2017, the Sussexes wedding, 2018 and HM The Queen platinum jubilee service at St. Paul’s Cathedral, 2022, this troika of events have sealed William’s fate.
AT the summer solstice, 2022, we have William at 40. Well guess what, that would mean that his natal Neptune’s transit is now square his natal ascendant and descendant. This would mean that Neptune is now in a very difficult square to the natal Sun/Moon conjunction at the descendant. These task companions are truly at their most tense, combustible breaking point. They have quite frankly, bitten off more than they can chew both with Prince Louis and their racist campaign against the Sussexes.
Regardless his conceit, William is human; one of seven soul types, incarnate and caught up in the throes of his numerology and astrology, neither of which he has to date used at their higher octaves. Oh well, you live and you damn-well learn. Major transit squares in the lives of public persons usually means dramatic upheaval and shock. In the case of his mum, Diana, Princess of Wales the very day her Pluto transit was square, she died violently. In the case of William’s mum, hard aspects to Pluto usually means assassination. Do not forget, the official word is that there was a catastrophic car crash… and that’s that. Obviously, if Diana’s assassination needed to be covered up then there would be an official conclusion that would at all costs dismiss assassination as ludicrous and the lunacy of conspiracy theorists.
William’s racist obsession with Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, whom he refers to as “that woman,” is because she is too powerful and more dynamic and charismatic than his androgynous, mousy broodmare, Catherine. William wanted no repeat of Prince Charles’ grudge and resentment of Diana; however, at this stage, this is exactly what has transpired. Rather than Diana being maligned and ultimately annihilated, Meghan has been maligned as never before a royal has been; however, Harry sensibly made the right call and got his wife away from that nest of murderous ghouls.
It’s been a very long run and she did much to perpetuate the Windsor mystique; however, William has already begun the job of blowing the lid off that carefully honed beguiling image of brand Windsor. William & Catherine’s racist attack on the Sussexes has unwittingly served to destructively manifest the results that neglecting family over the family business does come at a cost to HM The Queen’s legacy. The kingdom that HRH Princess Elizabeth of York inherited on acceding the throne on February 6, 1952, is a vastly different kingdom than in time William will inherit on acceding after his father, HM King Charles III – in due course. Most noticeably, it will be a kingdom, which will prove unruly thanks to his involvement with the blackamoor brooch. Certainly, as recent events at the heart of HM The Queen’s platinum jubilee betrayed with the cancellation of a film deemed blasphemous, William’s racist karma will be played out in a kingdom vastly different and less deferential than that his grandmother encountered at the start of her long reign. In having lasted as long as she has, HM The Queen has left her heirs, one in particular, impatient, conceited and intent on getting on with his birth right. Catherine and William have already doomed their reign to rather dark and choppy waters ahead.
Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge with 9 energy body is the personification of bully in the two portraits above. One hangs in the National Portrait Gallery, the other smartly dresses in clothing designed to best veil her dark persona. No one made the future Queen Consort and wife of bigoted William cry. No one ever could.
After the the rude dismissal at St. Paul’s Cathedral on June 3, 2022, there needs to be no more looking back. Yes, love him to bits and you’ve been through thick and thin; however, you have children for whom you have to be a beacon of love and togetherness, which is a script that was alien to the milieu into which you chose to reincarnate. There is more than an ocean between you now; there is no bridge that could ever span the divide William and Catherine created in racially vilifying and disrespecting you and your family. To hell with them, the isle of racist boors is no place for a family ruled by love.
A Love Supreme. John Coltrane 1965
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!
On Sunday, May 22, 2022, the Sussexes were featured all over Daily Mail because the Duke had played polo at the Santa Barbara Polo Club. Whipped into the usual hateful frenzy, there were more than eleven thousand comments filled with hatefulness, lies and ridicule.
Two days later, it has emerged that Thomas Markle Sr. has suffered a massive stroke and these same hateful people are insisting that Meghan, Duchess of Sussex should go visit her father. Are you frigging kidding me? The articulate Duchess of Sussex made it eloquently clear to Oprah Winfrey, during their March 2021 interview, that she has lost her father. I cannot state enough that anyone possessed of master numbers of 11 (yours truly included) do not waver when they take a stand. Just think of Kim Kardashian, going after her sister and violently slapping her. Kim has master numbers of 11; she is the star of that show. One does not eff with master-numbered persons. Period.
Somehow, Meghan was supposed to be emulating actor, Julia Roberts in the film, Pretty Woman simply for wearing an outfit that was similar to one worn by the character during the film. Has it occurred to these jackasses that there is no outfit that any woman could ever wear that would not be comparable to one previously worn by any other woman? There is no reason why the Duchess of Sussex should visit her father, who has suffered a life-altering stroke. If she were to, her vile detractors would say that it was all a PR stunt to try and look sympathy. If she does not, she would be said to be vile and heartless. To hell with Thomas and to hell with the 11k, who were ready to stone the duchess days earlier for attending the polo. Meghan owes neither Thomas nor them sweet bugger all.
“Time to take care of Daddy!” No dumbass, the time is long past for you to have taken care of your damn self. Stop being pissed on by that fetish-prone, perished kiwi fruit, Lady Rotherqueer herself, whose racial animus for the Black duchess will have him stop at nothing. Let him and his racist ilk fund Thomas Sr.’s recovery; god only knows, Thomas is better off to them alive than dead as they stop at nothing to racially prey on the most hunted fugitive from White racial justice in history, Meghan, Duchess of Sussex. Doria Ragland has her health because she has been a dignified and loyal parent to her daughter, Meghan, Duchess of Sussex. Thomas Markle Sr. will never meet his grandkids, Archie & Lilibet; he forfeited that privilege for betraying his own daughter. I might also add that he would never have behaved towards Meghan as he has, if her mother was also White. To hell with him.
Go on, scoot. You’ve betrayed your own child. Your soul’s had enough of your embarrassing grandstanding… time’s up. Crawl the frig in your casket, there is no love for you!
Then, again, just as at the time of the royal wedding in May 2018, this could be another staged health emergency by the clearly disturbed blackmailer and biggest petty conman ever. If the Duke & Duchess of Sussex were to meet with Thomas Markle Sr. whilst he is incapacitated, he would immediately turn around and run to the media, further vilifying them and making demands. Since he has dismissed a blood prince as an idiot, I don’t see how he can expect anyone from HM The Queen to Harry & Meghan to take him seriously or time-waste with his totally untrustworthy hide. He is a bitter scumbag and serves no discernible purpose in the lives of any member of the royal family, especially so the Duke & Duchess of Sussex. Most of all, his current health emergency is an obvious ruse to entrap the Sussexes; however, Thomas Sr. is the one who is stupid enough to believe the likes of Lady Rotherqueer’s transparent schemes, not either Sussex.
As ever, life is like a flying dream; if you look down, you’re fucked. Enjoy the ride and fear no one!
Here we have an artisan soul, bringing the light and fabulousness. There is likely a good dash of priest soul energy somewhere in his casting. I was delighted to have discovered this rare beauteous soul. Definitely, he gets my vote for best-dressed male at Met Gala, 2022 – number one of ten.
The executive looks especially refined in a white halter, topped with clipped, ruffled floor-length skirt by Azzedine Alaia.
August, inordinately handsome couple of notable heritage.
Kaia looks and seems like a warrior soul – mature soul cycle possibly.
Understated and dignified. Madam First Lady’s jewel-toned gown is elegant and unfussy.
Ms. Lee’s gown is perfect; her legs are revealed yet partially concealed and without a slit, there is no chance of her feet being photographed sickled in.
This is a very beautiful dress; very elegant and tastefully executed. The dress must make the most beautiful music as she glides along. Wonderful.
Camila’s matte gold sheath is a complex design. What is especially winning is the pair of flesh-toned gloves.
Like Precious Lee, Chloe Bailey has thick thighs; however, Precious was styled to perfection. Nothing about her look aesthetically misses the mark.
From the highs of being Bridgerton’s heartthrob to disappearing into the oblivion of TV car commercials.
90s American model, looking effortlessly chic in golden vintage Azzaro.
Smartly attired rapper; I love the lapel detailing. With legs on show, it would have been more appropriate to have worn a kilt or male skirt.
No idea of this artist’s range. I do, though, know that his attire is by no stretch of the gilded age.
Formerly of NASA, the dashing renaissance man also has impeccable tastes. Definitely one of the top 3 best-dressed men at the Met Gala, 2022. Without doubt, he has my vote as the third best-dressed.
Naomi Campbell remains the most dominant, dignified supermodel. The ingenuity of the Burberry logo incorporated into the gown works beautifully.
Bella’s bejewelled left ankle seems as though a foot still planted in the gilded age. The lace and leather bustier are a modern interpretation on the gilded age.
In her on-air interview with La La Anthony, who along with Vanessa Hudgens and Hamish Bowles hosted Vogue’s streaming red carpet arrivals, this performer proved embarrassingly unaware among other things.
As with Naomi’s gown, Lila’s sheer gown is also bejewelled with Burberry’s horse logo.
Supermodel mum, Kate with daughter Lila whose modelling has successfully launched.
The other Queen to be dressed by Burberry, Wagon’s still got it as the song proclaims and as is plainly obvious. Stunning.
I don’t know about the gilded age but if you are going to be bound and stuffed into a gilded cage, your every fantasy would be realised on having leather-clad Irina Shayk predatorily stride in, famished and ready to have her way with you…
Looking like a bearded reanimation of Frida Kahlo, as my musical tastes do not stray beyond Jazz and classical, I have no idea the state of his music.
Coming on strong is young Mr. Jacob Elodi; he is central casting’s bid to cash in on the millions of screaming little Beliebers as they grew away for the Canadian pop star. Tall, dark and handsome.
Conventionally, he is the best dressed; however, he comes in number two, as Frederik Robertsson visionary presentation/performance was unsurpassed. Everything about Stormzy and his debonair style has winner written all over. White on white on white complements his beautiful complexion.
The hair swept up, elongating the neck, the jewellery, the clutch, the appropriately placed roses and that lovely smile. Indeed, the lady graciously captures the gilded age.
The lovely Tessa Thompson is a vision of soft cherry blossom pinks in a delightful ode to the gilded age. Incidentally, as pitting women against each other is one of the many insidious ways that sexism thrives within the culture, unlike the men, I will elect not to declare a best dressed female.
The gold touches and opera glasses are winning odes to the gilded age… to be sure.
Feathery wisps below the knees, though evocative of the Jazz age, we will nonetheless take it. Beautiful colour combination.
Light, airy, delicate and a modern ode to the gilded age wonderfully executed.
Dame Anna Wintour, November 3, 1949, year of the Ox. 3.5.1 = 9. When you take into account Dame Wintour’s pedigree, an earl and duchess among them, here is someone who has used their numbers not only masterfully but in their most positive expression. 9 in the fourth position is that of the gatekeeper – her aristocratic heritage affords her a confidence that would escape a self-made individual. No one else, save Dame Wintour could have masterfully run Vogue, held it together and been in such an esteemed position of power and for so long save Dame Wintour. 3 in the first position; she thinks before opening her mouth and her word carries much weight; 3 governs the world of intellect, books, publishing and refinement of expression. She is of hybrid heritage as suggested by her mindset, 5, thereby allowing her to be more open to the ‘other’ than say someone who was not of multicultural heritage. Lifepath of 1 simply means that she was born to lead and has staying power of Wellingtonian scope much as the 1st Duke of Wellington. This is a human who is living a life in full and with the greatest mastery of their numbers rather than being ruled by those numbers and thereby expressing the negative manifestations of those numbers. Anyone else wearing a tiara to the Met Gala would be readily dismissed as pretentious, not so Dame Wintour. As ever, her ensemble is understated and elegant.
Sleek, understated as a Chanel man of worth would be.
Always funny and always keeping it real and casually of the gilded age.
A quartet of cool ladies’ interpretation of the gilded age with the help of the house of Chloe.
Like Caroline Trentini, Venus Williams is pitch perfect. Tall, long lean lines; she is perfectly elegant, understated, confident.
Look at that statuesque lady. This Sudanese goddess is in a rarefied class all by herself. She does for that Christian Lacroix dress what no one else could. Stunning!
Ravishing, Alexa is at all times über raffinée. Those shoes are everything.
Normani ought to have worn lacquered, fire-engine red lipstick to set off the outfit; it would make her complexion pop against the monochromatic ensemble.
It’s been a minute since we’ve seen Caroline but she has served up a winning point with this rich maya blue cape.
Sarah Jessica Parker
Sarah’s look proved both historic and as such an homage to the trailblazing work and life of Elizabeth Hobbs Ketchley, whose life did straddle the gilded age. She was a slave who transitioned to working at the White House where she served as a dressmaker to Madam First Lady Mary Todd Lincoln, wife of President Abraham Lincoln.
Without doubt, I must acquire this book.
Perhaps, this is how the Harkonnens dressed during the latest gilded age on Giedi Prime in the year 10, 125.
As a large-bodied professional model, Paloma has thorough awareness of the aesthetics of looking good on camera. The bustier gives a flattering presentation of her form and she knows well, as does Precious Lee, that one does not expose thick thighs by way of a side or front slit. Her look is handsomely august.
That neck, that waistline and the hoop skirt create the bustle-like look of the gilded age. Caroline and her performance truly capture the style of Martin Scorsese’s masterful film, Age of Innocence.
Commanding. Handsome and theatrical which is welcome in the gilded age or any other for that matter.
Clean, simple, elegant, though, her hair ought to have been gathered. Clearly, her hair was worn down as a way of detracting from her cleavage.
Look sweetheart, just because your grandmother was the official fart sniffer and second-hand smoke filter for HM The Queen’s notoriously uncouth sister, The Princess Margaret, Countess of Snowdon, does not give you the right to come pissing all over the Yanks and their perceived quaint culture. No American actor, if that’s what you’re comparably supposed to be, would ever dear show up at the annual Serpentine Summer Party thusly attired. We all know on that frightfully frigid, racist isle of yours, a damn Yank would be ejected from the gathering at once. Nobody wants to be acquainted with your lopsided quail egg boobs. You are fucking ridiculous. Go home. Stay gone and pluck that inbred-looking unibrow; you blasted desperate, no-talent attention whore.
Beautiful feet, lovely smile, great dress and without doubt, unlike the racist Poundland aristo’s, the nacre her pearls are of the highest quality.
Sneakers and a Dior smoking… the gilded age revisited.
Soft, delicate and fluid with beautiful complement of colours and textures. I especially love the shoes; this young man’s is a very elegant, beautiful look.
He would only be better dressed if carrying white gloves and a cane. Handsome in every way; got the memo and dialled it in. This earns Mr. Doherty the fifth spot on the best-dressed list.
Ms. Chen could not look any more lovely or elegant. The lined gloves are ingenious and she’s got great feet.
Can you feel the music that he radiates? Can you feel the love? I sure do. Beautiful human.
A gentleman always wears his white gloves. Very elegantly handsome indeed. Tails, white shoes and tie but, of course, Mr. Elgort clocks in at the tenth position on the best-dressed list.
Classic Fendi highlighted by the hat, bracelet and the most smashing shoes. Handsome and an eclectic winner!
White on white, beautiful. If only one had a good look at the double strand necklace. The mermaid and off-the-shoulder accents beautifully set off by the elegant gloves.
Red feathers delicately perched never looked so good. Beautiful creation.
There is a lot going on here but it all remarkably comes together beneath that beauteous high forehead.
As can be expected, everything is sheer perfection. Not a soft pink feather is out of place.
Coming through, looking like a Na’vi goddess just returned from Pandora; I know truly fierce makeup when I see it.
Great gown and she has sure got moxie.
That is a very elegant brown suit; his vibe is wonderfully laidback.
Beautiful. Stunning as is her personality.
There is so much happening here that her dress seems as though a runaway vine that’s consuming her and everything close by.
Lace catsuit with a dripping effect created beads partout. Very cool.
Sexy. Stylish. Beautiful. Stunning and the outfit only heightens her beauty.
The beautiful, charismatic, palpably in love thespian couple.
He’s definitely got a vibe and it is seriously infectious.
His look is rather 19th century – the beard the defining signature. His style and the ensemble are rather fluid, elegant and decidedly musical.
Why they did not throughout hold hands and passionately French kiss, is a true mystery; to have not done so, made the whole getup flat-footed and insipid.
Silver, black, mauve, metallic and matte; there is a lot going on with this exquisitely elegant dress. The gloves really makes this outfit both a classic and winner. Lovely.
Handsome. Refined. I love a man in a cape and all that monochromatic white on white on white is breathtakingly elegant.
HEAD OF STATE
Like true African royalty, she carries a blond fly whisk. Love the overall effect.
Gilded age, catamite or castrato… take your pick.
Though the colours work beautifully for not being a sculptural creation, this van Herpen comes off as merely conventional.
Classic van Herpen design. Clean architectural lines.
The creative genius in one of her angelic designs. Truly, her designs are uplifting works of art.
21st century human male – spiritually focussed and spreading love and the light fantastic. Top of the list it is, indeed. #bestdresedmale Met Gala 2022.
This is a very beautifully complex design. Remarkably, Phoebe looks like a young Helen Mirren.
Positively love the riot of beautiful blooms on the marvellous cape’s interior. Beautiful hands handsomely framed by frilled sleeves.
By far, this was one of the most beautiful, understated elegant designs at the Met Gala 2022. The gloves like the head scarf and train are touches that come together beautifully, creating one of the evening’s most memorable looks.
Claire Danes & Hugh Dancy
Gilded age or not, this is pure romanticism and glamour. The facial adornment is parfait. Lovely, elegant couple.
Gilded age, Jazz age or Great Gatsby, take your pick. A very beautiful man, wonderfully dressed and love the tie. To all this fluidity and one can only raise a glass and say, ‘Bottoms up!’ Patrick is ninth on the best-dressed list.
One of three hosts of Vogue’s live stream of the Met Gala, 2022 red carpet arrivals, La La’s outfit was strange. One does not wear a fascinator to an evening event. Ladies with thick thighs should always wear a column or mermaid gown, failing that extra wide pants would be wisest. Her exposed hips makes it look as though she is wearing a bath sheet as a wrap with train. I can appreciate her wanting to support a black designer but if I were her and this item showed up, I would have hightailed it to an appropriate boutique and rented a Balmain outfit.Even knee-high boots would have saved the outfit. No way to high heaven was Hamish Bowles going to co-host with Ms. Anthony looking as she was.
Elegant and refined; he is a winner through and through.
Simple and unpretentious. Great legs and lovely feet; her look is ever kaleidoscopic.
African royals’ take on the gilded age set in Zulu territory.
Chole Grace’s look, especially the eyes, bare so distinct a connection to Brooklyn Beckham’s that it would be surprising if they did not have a soul connection.
Lovely skirt, though, I rather suspect that so much midriff would not have been on display during the gilded age.