I have always admired this Queen, Margrethe II, and it never failed to impress on me that she is possessed of three 7s. That’s a powerhouse. Thus it was that during her New Year’s message when she announced that she was going to abdicate on January 14, 2024, the 52nd anniversary of her ascension, I wickedly howled then exclaimed, “And that is how you whack a piñata!” Despite that little battyfaced fabulist in the Fisher Price château, spending 25 minutes talking readily fished filler on Google, I knew without doubt Margrethe II’s reason for abdicating – the Danish constitution forbids the monarch from divorcing!
Crown Princess Mary of Denmark, breaks down in public whilst in New Zealand
So as the beautiful Crown Princess Mary had a meltdown in New Zealand over the Christmas break after being humilated by that orbital minor aristocrat with big dreams inspired by Queen Camilla, at all of three 7s, Margrethe had other ideas. No, indeed, unlike her recently departed third cousin, HLM Queen Elizabeth II, Margrethe II had no intentions of having her beloved grandchildren (Crown Prince Christian, Princess Isabella, Prince Vincent & Princess Josephine) endure the mental/emotional stress of a divorce’s fallout. Like a truly shrewd/amoral woman with first number of 7, Margrethe II signed the abdication papers at the Danish Parliament, got up, her grandson, Crown Prince Christian handed her, her cane and with that she announced, “God Save The King” turned and walked out, all before King Frederik X could sign and thus officially become king.
Trying to force a divorce by calling the paparazzi and masquerading the morning after in Madrid
Two libidinous piñatas whacked with the stroke of a pen. No need, lovely Mary to feel dispair and break down in public, Margrethe II has got things in control. Margrethe II was Queen for half a century; she’s got balls and knows her power. No protracted drama in the tabloids of cheating, scandals, separation, divorce and a possible remarriage replete with mariachi band for aspirant Danish Camilla.
King Frederik X & Queen Mary, January 14, 2024, Copenhagen
So before you could fan yourself and throw some serious side eye, Conchita deleted her social media presence within days of Mary rightfully taking her place in history as Queen, not having been divorced and dispensed with à la Diana, Princess of Wales to be replaced by a Camilla full of fillers. In short order, Margrethe II signed those documents, grabbed her cane and declared, ‘Now get out there and make my grandchildren’s mother, Mary, your Queen!” Damn right, Margrethe II does not run a pantomime.
George, Louis, Catherine & King Charles III at Sandringham, Christmas Day, 2023
Speaking of piñatas getting whacked… On Boxing Day, (December 26, 2023) I awoke from a rather lucid dream that was brief but potent; it was the last dream before awaking that day in late afternoon. In this the final dream, I came to where there was a couple engaged in kinky sexual play. Initially, the couple’s identity was not readily discernible as I came to in midstride into a bedroom where the couples heads were closer to me and down. Over the bottom’s right shoulder, the top partner’s head was buried whilst aggressively ploughing the bottom whose hands were bound to the bedposts with head turned away to left; the bottom was clearly gagged. The room was dimly lit and sparsely furnished. Ritualised, the couple hardly made noise, save for the bed’s motion; it was rough play.
Rough Play Bed
Abruptly, the top got from the bed and it proved to be Catherine; she would stilettos, a glossy PVC black bodysuit and wore a rather large-headed, upturned strapon. Aggressively, she took her leave of the room with William, #Peggalicius, remaining in bed spent. Prior to that, I had come to in another dream encounter with Catherine. This time, I onlooked as she arrived on what I assumed was Mustique where traditionally the family vacations at the home of the late Princess Margaret. This, though, was much too heavily trafficked; there were lots of yachts in the crystalline waters. I decided that for such a private island, there were too many super yachts here. Could it be St. Thomas U. S. Virgin Islands; however, there were no cruise ships. Not until several days later, in mid-January did the dream’s locale make sense. I then realised that the dream undoubtedly was set in St. Barths.
I swooped down from onhigh, after having arrived in an intensely lucid flying dream. I alighted and as I walked unobserved, I knew that my astrally projected dream body remained invisible. I strode along after a party of about eight persons. I continued on as the party was well removed from the noise and play of the wealthy persons about. There was a tall woman in a colourful muumuu, wearing a broadrimmed straw hat, large shades with blonde hair that bobbed at her shoulders. Stunned was I as I watched the overweight woman, once in a large private suite, get out of a fatsuit, toss aside the blonde wig on the bed, revealing that it was Catherine in disguise. She then came outside to a walled courtyard where a riot of creaping bourgainvillea blooms crowned the awning, affording shade and privacy. She sat in a long white lounge chair, wearing large predatory black shades whilst firmly speaking to someone on the large white phone; her tone was raspish, vile… predatory.
As with the preceding dream, it was dreamt on the eve of the73rd birthday of Prince Charles, the Prince of Wales in November, 2021. Readily, I committed the dream to this blog as I instinctually knew that HM The Queen would pass within the coming year; the following early September, 2022, she passed. There would be little credibility to the dream if I were to have shared it after The Queen’s passing. I awoke and knew straight away that I had to share the prophetic dream. So, too, were these sequential dreams of Catherine, Princess of Wales on Boxing Day, 2023, possessed of the sense of knowing and they were dreams which presaged things to come.
Top to Bottom: Centuries Old English Oak, Cedar of Lebanon at Althorp House & Millennial Yew
The next dream of a senior royal occurred just a couple of days after New Year’s Day, 2024. Since becoming sovereign in September, 2022, it was the first dream had of King Charles III. It is not uncommon to dream of persons with whom you have past life history that was positive; if they happen to be famous and thus recognisable from the waking state in the dreamtime, it is rare. Most times, such persons may well be alive but unkown to self and therefore a mystery though familiar in the dreamtime. This dream was one of high moment. HM King Charles III wore the most glorious saffron robe that was not golden and it draped on the zingy grass after him.
Just as in the above dream entitled, “Come on, Let’s Go For A Ride!” All the trees here as in that park were perfectly shaped into topiary tuning forks. They were massive on the order of the giant redwoods of the American northwest; however, here these trees easily were thrice as tall as those ones. The air was pure and inordinately oxygen rich. There were only three types of trees in the dream as represented above: oaks, evergreens and yews, each a colassal trunked column whose branches halved and towered upwards forming perfect tuning forks. I had been in this place before, though, never with Merlin. I had been measurably gliding along drinking in the super negative ions of the place, upping my frequency in the process. I had thrown open my eyes and seen King Charles III coming towards me. Immediately, his exposed hands did not betray the thickened fingers of the waking state; they were long digits that were fluid, sensitive… creative. His age here betrayed his agedness of spirit; King Charles III is a seventh level mature warrior soul – Prince Archie, by the way, is also seventh level mature but a priest soul. They are both the oldest souls of all the senior royals whose overleaves I am aware of. These three majestic arborial species were triple-rowed and along a wide path that easily was wider and longer by ten times than both Windsor Castle’s and Blenheim Palace’s long walks.
Buster Meditating in Pyramid flanked by three George Hawkens, A Bill Reid & A Henry Moore
Comfortably ensconced in my trusty pyramid and lucidly self-aware, I began upping my vibration, drawing in the power and frequency of the trees about me. Swirling about me, the energy soon took on hues of blue-white light, which I directed upwards and outwards whilst King Charles III stood comfortably distant. The light grew more intense, the power more potent until effortlessly my lids fluttered and I awoke with the crystals still in place at the chakra points which rarely they remain during sleep.
Harry & his pa, Charles and his darling boy
Days later, as I looked at live TV, Prince Charles’s former communications secretary, Kristina Kyriacou, said on ITV, “No one could make Prince Charles laugh louder than Prince Harry could…” At that moment, you could have heard a pin drop; no one was better placed to have known this. Indeed, half of King Charles III’s healing was doubtless affected as Prince Harry walked into the salon at Clarence House and they greeted each other, “Hi pa” “Oh my darling boy,” they hugged and both lost tears. Nothing else, not the fabulist bullshit of that battyfaced crossdresser or the other royal experts whether outed by Archie Manners or not – they are all the fucking same… blithering, snobbish, bullshit artists.
EE BAFTA Awards Statuets
Talk about guilty conscience. Just looked at the 2024 EE BAFTA Awards and darling, I honestly had no clue that the shitty li’l racist island’s BAFTAs was specifically an awards ceremony for Blacks. Naturally, as #Peggalicious is president of BAFTA, the #EtonianPoofter has seen fit to fight back against the family having been categorically outed in Omid Scobie’s Endgame as dire anti-Black racists – as if it were not readily obvious at Prince Harry & Meghan’s wedding. Of course, going by those dreams, King Charles III would turn out to be stricken with cancer, hence the giant yew trees in the energy transference dream encounter – extracts from yew bark is used in cancer treatments. Of course, what better way to be rid of the otiose #Middledumb zombie but to push for a divorce. Naturally, as all is slight of hand with The Firm, Catherine has been mysteriously ill and indisposed for a least several months – has she been embalmed and The Firm awaiting the right time to stage the news and disposal. As per the dream, I rather suspect that whilst at Sandringham at Christmas, #Peggalicious violently demanded a divorce, #Middledumb the mute dominatrix, fled to Bucklebury and hightailed it to St. Barths by private jet, in cropped blonde wig and fatsuit no less, where for now, she is staying put with 80m£ worth of missing royal jewels.
HM King James I & his lover, George Villiers the Duke of Buckingham
Christian Jones, the Duke of Buckingham & Norfolk and Peggalicious besotted & Incandescent
Certainly, I cannot see them offering #Middledumb more than 40m£ to go away. Naturally, she has taken flight, not wanting to suffer the same fate that befell the eternally beautiful, Diana, Princess of Wales. It most certainly will be interesting to see if in due course, #Peggalicious makes Christian Jones, Duke of Buckingham & Norfolk; King James I certainly set the tone when making his lover, George Villiers, the Duke of Buckingham.
#Middlemuted Missing but is she missed?
Is it piñata whacking time one wonders?
At the one hour & twelfth minute mark of this landmark live performance in New York City on December 4, 1992, Diana Ross performs the best rendition of Strange Fruit since Billie Holiday. And what a stellar assembly of Jazz musicians it was!
Liner Notes:
Arranged By [Music Arranged By] – Gil Askey [The BIg Band], Alto Saxophone – Frank Wess (tracks: 15 to 18), Justin Robinson (tracks: 15 to 18) [The BIg Band], Baritone Saxophone – Gary Smulyan (tracks: 15 to 18) [The BIg Band], Bass – Ron Carter (tracks: 15 to 18) [The BIg Band], Drums – Grady Tate (tracks: 15 to 18) [The BIg Band], Guitar – Ted Dunbar (tracks: 15 to 18) [The BIg Band], Piano – Barry Harris (2) (tracks: 15 to 18) [The BIg Band], Tenor Saxophone – Jerome Richardson (tracks: 15 to 18), Ralph Moore (2) (tracks: 15 to 18) [The BIg Band], Trombone – Garnett Brown (tracks: 15 to 18), Slide Hampton (tracks: 15 to 18), Urbie Greene* (tracks: 15 to 18) [The BIg Band], Trumpet – Gil Askey (tracks: 15 to 18), John Longo (tracks: 15 to 18), Jon Faddis (tracks: 16 to 19), Roy Hargrove (tracks: 15 to 18), Stanton Davis (tracks: 15 to 18) [The Band], Alto Saxophone – Justin Robinson (tracks: 1 to 10) [The Band], Bass – Ron Carter (tracks: 1 to 10) [The Band], Drums – Grady Tate (tracks: 1 to 10) [The Band], Guitar – Ted Dunbar (tracks: 1 to 10) [The Band], Piano – Barry Harris (2) (tracks: 1 to 10) [The Band], Tenor Saxophone – Ralph Moore (2) (tracks: 1 to 10) [The Band], Trombone – Urbie Greene* (tracks: 1 to 10) [The Band], Trumpet – Gil Askey (tracks: 1 to 10), Jon Faddis (tracks: 1 to 10), Roy Hargrove (tracks: 1 to 10) [The Sextet], Drums – Grady Tate (tracks: 11 to 14) [The Sextet], Piano – Bobby Tucker (tracks: 11 to 14) [The Sextet], Tenor Saxophone – Jerome Richardson (tracks: 11 to 14) [The Sextet], Trombone – Garnett Brown (tracks: 11 to 14) [The Sextet], Trumpet – Gil Askey (tracks: 11 to 14), Jon Faddis (tracks: 11 to 14) Executive Producer – Diana Ross Leader [Music Director] – Jon Faddis Producer – Ben Sidran ____________________________________________________________________
Rage! Especially at a time like this, rage is the passion one feels at you having the audacity to speciously claim that Jazz has its roots in Klezmer… live on-air! You just know that faster than a sneeze, I was manically dialling up JazzFM and vituperatively emasculating the little fabulist fraud. You can squat all over the culture all you want; however, you are to Jazz what wings are to ostriches. Seriously, what do ostriches know of flight? More to the point, eagles do not give a goddamn that ostriches have wings. The audacity of you as one, enraptured by the language of Jazz, stratospherically soars twenty thousand feet above the oddity of you stealing, squatting… noise-making! Happy Black history month. Jazz, above all else, is the spiritual manifestation of that intensely enriched Black history!
On Monday, April 4, 1994, while the Moon transited both Capricorn and my eighth house, I would dream the following six dreams. These dreams were recorded on audiocassettes one hundred and eighty through one hundred and eighty-one.
These were marvellous dreams; there was flight and there were dreams of extra-humans. More than that, there was information gleaned in the final dream, which spoke of hidden knowledge about intelligent life here in the Solar system.
As ever, sweet and blissful dreams to you; I love you more.
Chinese Vagrant
Saw Wilbur Clemsworth and a couple of others outside, in this the first dream, where it was uncharacteristically sunny – at least by Vancouver standards. They were on an incline above and to the left of the street. As it turned out, they were on the hunt for extra-humans. This was because a singing, pink chimpanzee had fallen from the sky. Three or four guys had, thus far, been rounded up. A Chinese vagrant showed up from up the hill; he had been at a busy intersection seated on a large green-trunked tree. He pointed out that some of the knobby-trunked trees were, in fact, hosts for stowaway extra-humans.
Psychadelic Dream House
I was part of the group and there were three or four others. They were all very odd-looking guys. I was then on a busy sidewalk where there energetically was lots of colour. Young couples hung out beneath café awnings whilst enjoying the Sun and their love. When looking down the block, I saw – two intersections away – a house that was painted an electric psychedelic array of colours: pinks, purples and greens predominating. There on the second storey and at the far-left window, the actor, Teri Garr was seen being deeply French-kissed by one of the extra-humans. The extra-human was a blonde vixen who literally raped Teri Garr of her breath.
Angolan Model, Maria Borges
I was with a very dark-skinned beauty who wore a tight white dress; there was African-beaded print that horizontally moved across the fabric. She walked so beautifully that I began dancing ahead of her while serenading her progression. Gingerly, dancing along the sidewalk, I did pas de courrus as in the coda from the Don Quixote grand pas de deux. Soon enough, I leapt into the air and took to flight. Effortlessly, I left the group and the area while moving through a towering canyonned growth of cedars. Eventually, I had come out to a cul-de-sac where the canyon ended. At that, I rose some three or four storeys higher into the air.
Angolan Model, Maria Borges, Vogue Portugal
Next, I started to make my way back. This time, however, I would veer off to the left; this brought into view the vibrantly painted tropical villas in the village. Going to the closest, it had orange-exteriored walls. On the villa’s patio, I would try dialling a brown phone. The phone was long abandoned, broken and cordless. As it was, the place had seemingly been broken into long ago. Going inside, there I found a lightweight silver camera; it was like the old, large flash numbers that the Hollywood paparazzi in the 1940s would use. On its underside was a large cartridge that sat to the left front when looking at it face on. On checking it out, it proved an empty case in which batteries could be stored.
Dream Model Not Penina da Brgha
I took a few frames of Penina da Braga who was about and was taken aback at the speed with which they were developed. Certainly, the thing did not seem like a Polaroid camera; yet, it had spat out the developed product even faster than a Polaroid would have. There were different exposures of Penina lying on a red footstool. The stool was reminiscent of the tacky ones that used to be at 122 Mortimer Avenue. Large enough, it was such that it could comfortably host her curled up body. Penina reclined with right knee up with her face inclined to the right. While posing, she had squarely looked up into the camera. Her pose and energy were rather warm and arrestingly beautiful. She was so impressively alive and awakened here.
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Roy Marcus Cohn
Going into a large, nearby empty hall, during this the second dream, there I saw a curly-haired man who was distinctly Jewish. We sat in one corner by some crates and started fondling each other. He let me know that he has got quite the mouthful. Soon, he had gotten up onto his knees facing me and rammed his ridiculously huge thick dick down my throat. His cock was so massive that I began gagging on the damn thing. I did not appreciate his hairy-back-and-arsed brawny approach. A real low-browed grunt he was.
He then yanked his monster schlong away from me. Next, he got up and left by the doors that were off to my left rear. Waiting there interminably, he never did show up again. This is the sort of thing that one could readily expect of someone of his ilk whose raison d’être is fucking le tout goyim because… well… one can. Soon after, a tall cropped-haired brunette appeared and walked her horsy-faced arse past me. By now, I was in lotus position in the middle of the room. As a result, she went and took the same position to my rear. She laughed at me as I tried bending forwards to place my chest on the floor. I had had to use my clasped hands behind my back throughout the exercise.
I had placed my hands such, to give myself momentum; however, in this instance, it caused me to fall forwards onto my forehead. Meanwhile, the size queen in me was disappointed that the wunder-schlonged Jew had not reappeared.
*Roy Cohn was not the subject of this dream; however, the Jew encountered had the same vile, racist, depravity of spirit about him. END.
Next, in this the third dream, I was walking in a grove of mossy alder. While there, I saw a species of reptile never before encountered in the dreamtime. About 8-12 inches long, they were diamond-headed and looked like young snakes. Fat-bodied, they had a short squat tail. Theirs were large black eyes with wide round mouths which were not unlike some lizards’. They did not, however, have four limbs like an iguana whose length they approximated. Nor, for that matter, did they have two limbs like a tadpole’s whose short finlike tail they matched. The face and neck of these creatures were white throughout. Too, the white applied to their undersides just aft of what would have been their four limbs.
They clung to the barks sucker-style and always hung such that their faces always faced down to the ground. Observing them for a while, I was intrigued to find out how they managed locomotion. They were never anything but perfectly immobile with the most penetrating gaze. Their intelligence was so uncannily discernible that it was almost as if they were looking into you. There was a real scorpionic intensity to their eyes; in that sense, they were not unlike Pericles da Braga’s eyes. The edge of having a scorpionic Moon that affords such persons the ability to directly look into you.
Prashant Sharma, too, does have this characteristic. Without warning, one of them leapt from its suckered perch and directly made for my face in one lightning fast move. In one agile duck, I was cleared of being attacked by the stealthy creature. From my squat position, I made a plié of it and pounced with feline ease into the air. Shooting upwards, I flew high into the air and thus avoided contact with these creatures. I then came to perch atop a 150-foot cedar which was no taller than its neighbours. The creature had been so fiercely agile that I experienced its approach as if it were happening in slow-motion. Finally, I had gotten their locomotion figured out; they simply sprung like a cobra on the attack.
They, though, were able to will themselves through the air; it was as though it were an aqueous medium and they merely newborn puppy sharks. When making for their chosen target, they simply bolted at you in an arrow-like short flight. They flew with their mouths agape because on landing, they took initial purchase by clamping down hard with their fierce-looking mouths. Theirs was a mouth full of razor-sharp-looking teeth with double fangs no less; they were a truly monstrous sight. The others, meanwhile, bolted for cover as I took flight. I suppose that they were surprised that I could fly; well, I am certainly no sleepwalker when in the dreamtime.
Chiropractic Neck Manipulation
*This jarring experience, which truly terrified me, had had the advantageous effect of manipulating my problem neck vertebrae. Goodness knows that they had been a source of much pain of late. On awakening, I was really only too glad to have been free of the pain. When the sudden jarring motion of being startled by the attacking creature had occurred, in the dreamtime, I was suddenly aware of my body lying asleep in the pyramid. At the time, my spine was being manipulated back into place. Although I had been acutely aware of the corrective manipulation of my spine, I had not awakened.
Though I continued to be ‘under’ in the dream state, I was spatially aware of my waking state body. I remained focussed and engaged in the process of dreaming. As a result, these strange creatures could be said to have been healers whose purpose it was, to have jarringly righted my aches at this time.
**As will be obvious, this manipulation occurred in preparation of the astral projection that would take place during the sixth and final dream. END.
Next, in this the fourth dream, I found myself in Crab Hill, Sandy Point, St. Kitts. At the time, I was walking and thinking of Pandora da Braga as I progressed on foot across the bridge to Patrice Wellesley’s store just a short distance away. As I did so, I had heard someone call out to me and it turned out to have been Ian Banks Jr.. He then called me inside where we visited; he was exceptionally handsome. He took a break from working at the store and asked me to join him for a drink. Dimpled, he was stout and had a bit of a paunch which I found surprising.
Dismissing my fears about him possibly rejecting me, he was genuinely pleased to have seen me. I had had concerns all along that he would not have approved of me – if only because of my sexual proclivities. This man’s presence was so very real and intense that I was completely energised by him. I was really turned on by his strong sexual magnetism. Finding myself in such strongly intense dreams has never ceased to inspire awe within me. Pandora then joined us and let me know that she didn’t appreciate my being loudmouthed about her having gone Rasta, “to please some stinking-mouthed, potbellied wimp.”
You just know too that I had said as much with regards to Roman Danier. Pandora here was long-haired; her hair was braided in cornrows. Looking to shift gears, I had asked her if she had had to cut off her dreadlocks to start all over again. Somehow, she had apparently gotten her hair untangled by a professional and was able to braid it. This I thought was highly unlikely.
I went into a work area, in this the fifth dream, by some oversized cases beyond a set of machinery. There I saw Lola Davidoff as well as Lawrence Moncton. Naturally, Lola was wearing a hat and looked as stylish as ever. I was really pleased to have seen her. She wore a black outfit. There was a slight bit of tension as Lawrence was being sarcastic. Abruptly, I took my leave of them as I was not prepared to suffer either him or his bullshit.
Lola, however, was genuinely pleased to have seen me. She had been visiting with Lawrence when I happened on them. This woman was so sweet on running into her. Her face was so cute; her face was like a little China doll’s. She readily lit up and she does, in fact, remind me of Inge Wolfgang.
In what proved the sixth dream, I went through the multi-tiered lobby of a large palatial hotel. Lots of gold leaf everywhere; the carpet was a rich mix of red and gold. The interiors were wide and spacious and of old stone. The place looked as if it had been hanging around for several millennia. The colour of these walls was an off-white to near-sandy tone.
I then walked past models in different salons; they were being prepared to be in a show. Specifically, they were there to model hats; some of these hats were cascading with lots of tulle and feathers. High heels and body stockings were de rigueur. A tall, light-skinned, big-nosed Black hairdresser did the many Black models; they were all together on one side of the large vestibule of the floor that I was on. This place was quite large. Across the hallway, all the White models were being prepared; this was about their hair being prepared in as natural a state as possible. This, therefore, did require different approaches and thus the separation of the models.
I did though notice that the White models were being prepared in a much better salon than that of their counterparts. I wondered if this hairdresser was in fact Chiquita Fines, whom I’ve not yet met in the waking state but have been meaning to see.
*Chiquita would prove herself a cross-dressing queer bird, who was given to pressing up against me while having my hair permed. Certainly, it took me a while to realise the reason for the long penetrating staring, while doing my hair, when I finally figured out that it was Chiquita’s cock that was aggressively pressing against my forearm as I sat there having her/him work on my hair. END.
She did though remind me of Carmelina Dunkins, that Jamaican shrew who works in Toronto. Taking my leave of the place, I moved to the outdoors where I found myself in a covered alcove that turned out to be high up the massive structure. I was so thrilled by the density of this architectural gem that I stretched out my hands drinking in this strange city’s beauty. Across the way, on the other side of a body of water, which from the towering heights where I stood looked jet black, was a massive structure in the same Gothic style as Westminster Palace.
Twin Earth, Relatively Gargantuan & Millennially More August
This, however, was considerably larger; the structure was easily 7-10 times more massive than Westminster Palace. I was so invigorated by this massive metropolis that I climbed up on the balustrade then pushed off and began flying. This city was just as colossal as that encountered when up on the winding road of a city, where I was in search of a concert hall. That was that very same dream in which I would have a most sublime encounter with Merlin on July 9, 1993. Of course, that dream is in this blog and entitled: “Won’t take the A train.”
I had flown out, too, to get a better view of this truly massive city. The blackened river way below was so coloured because for being canyonned by all these massive structures, it never got direct sunlight. The replica of Westminster Palace was made from a darker rock and easily 15 millennia older than the current structure on the banks of the river Thames. What really struck me too, about this building, was that I thought at the time of how much it made Westminster Palace comparatively look like a child’s toy model of the real thing.
Finally, on getting out into the beautiful-feeling sunlight, I turned around while I had been hovering at least forty storeys above the light-starved blackened river. I had done so to gaze at the structure from which I had just flown. Though a hotel, it seemed like a beautiful palatial structure on the banks of the ancient river. The structure was sandstone and Château-like in style. Easily in excess of twenty storeys, this was a truly massive structure.
Twin Earth Architectural Grandeur
This palatial structure made the Château Frontenac in Québec City look like a child’s dollhouse. There were innumerable dark spired turrets everywhere like at Château de Chenonceau. Fleetingly, I experienced a stabbing anxiety at being so high up in the air with a body of water way below. I was worried as to whether or not I would be able to stay aloft at these heights. Thanks to the sombre, umbraed river way below, I was also fearful of possibly experiencing vertigo. Isha da Braga came rushing out onto the balcony, from which I had flown, and excitedly called out to me.
She was worried to death that I would fall; she excitedly demanded that I return at once. Truly fearful, she asked that I stop being reckless with my life and to please return. Poor dear, she didn’t quite get it; this was about complete release and being at one with All. This dream was truly lyrical; it was sheer poetry. This architecture was as distinctive and revolutionary as Antoni Gaudí’s vision has to date been on this planet.
A Millennia Aged Civilisation
Looking up above me, I found out that the sky too was jet black and rather ominous looking. One had the sense that there was a giant black hole on the verge of devouring the local star to this world – just as it had all others in its wake. There were no doubts in my mind that this was, definitely, not here on Earth. This, altogether, was a totally different star system to Sol. Everything here was so intense and existed on a scale that was anywhere from 3-10 times more colossal than anything on Earth which closely resembled it. Most of all, this was a beautiful old-souled world.
Architecturally, buildings here were considered old if they had survived past a dozen millennia. What really impressed me about this astrally projected experience, though, was the fact that everything was so alive, awakened and real. My senses were keenly attuned. The light here, though beneath a jet-black sky, was more intense than on Earth. Though I never did see the star, or stars, of this particular system, nonetheless, it was a stellar source which was far more intense and powerful than Sol.
A truly rhapsodic dream this proved. After having telepathically told her not to worry, I spent a great deal of time soaring higher and just indulging in every aspect of this marvellous place and completely ignored Isha.
Architectural Scales on Twin Earth
*Before having begun audiocassette-recording the dreams, as well as after having stopped recording the dreams on audiocassettes, I have had many dreams which were set on a companion Earth. What was interesting to have discovered, is that this twin of Earth, is right here in Sol orbit, rather, than about another star. According to these dreams, the parallel Earth, which is exactly the same size as Gaia, is at exactly the same location in its orbit about Sol as Earth. That planet, however, is on the opposite side of Sol and as it travels in the same orbital plane as Earth and has the exact rotation and speed as Earth, we never see it.
In that sense, Earth’s twin which sits on the other side of Sol is much like the dark side of the Moon. Just as we never see that side of the Moon, we have also never seen Earth’s twin in the diurnal or nocturnal skies. At this time, there is common knowledge of this planet’s existence by some governmental agencies. Conversely, that twin Earth has not one but two moons. They sit at the same distance relative to Earth’s Moon to the Earth twin.
Elusive Twin Earth
One is roughly 81.5 per cent the size of Earth’s Moon. The other is roughly 18.5 per cent the size and mass of Earth’s Moon. The smaller Moon orbits the larger one and together they have the same tidal effects on the Earth’s twin as does Earth’s moon, Luna. The twin Moons of Earth’s twin affords its ensouled inhabitants greater psychic and telepathic abilities than Earth’s humans.
However, as that world is light years more technologically advance and is populated by different ensouled species, who peaceably cohabit their planet, it is best to keep mere mortals of this planet in the dark. Incidentally, both Atlantis and Lemuria are current and starfaring civilsations on that parallel Earth. Atlantis is an aquatic civilisation of seafaring humanoids which is where the tales of mermaids originates. Lemurians are a land-based civilisation.
More than 80, 000 years ago, the Lemurians altered their genetics to totally remove the primate instincts which left their DNA prone to being a warring race – as for that matter are Earth’s humans. Atlantean Mermen do not have primate genetics and thus were never warring. Too, there are three races of ensouled cetaceans on that world. Further there are at least two dozen extra-human races with which they are in regular and ongoing contact. The parallel Earth is a favourite, galactic tourist destination. From time to time, visiting extra-humans to the hidden Earth twin venture to Earth and these are the UFOs/Aliens reported.
The reason for the sky appearing so black and foreboding, I should think, has much to do with Twin Earth having developed the technological ability to cloak the planetary and lunar space. This would afford them the ability to not be detected or photographed by a now-spacefaring, albeit solar, Earth civilisation which could prove hostile to them. I should think that the foreboding blackness of the sky, observed from while being in the dream in flight on the planet, protects Twin Earth from any contaminants, especially nuclear, from Earth should there be any accidents. This makes perfect sense when considering that both planets share the same orbit about Sol. That blackness of the sky, though it was daytime, is what affords Twin Earth from going undetected.
Roughly, 17 per cent of current Earthly humans have had a reincarnation cycle on Earth’s twin and are therefore intuitively aware of that world. For these humans, it is part of their soul memories and periodically is accessed in dreams. END.
This dream occurred, on Monday, December 7, 1992, whilst the Moon transited both my twelfth house – appropriately enough – and Taurus. Merlin my mentor had initiated in me the task of coming into my own and becoming the awakened warrior.
Here was I, dream magus, awakened warrior, displaying my power – bonding with nature and bonding with the very force itself. Said dream was the first experienced in exquisite lucidity in the ‘B’ or second sleep phase that day.
Calling Forth the Light
A yard at late twilight when morning breaks, rather than the indeterminate light that pervades astral plane dreams, was the setting for this dream. It seemed pretty much like the backyard of the Crab Hill, Sandy Point, St. Kitts house. I was in a tree that looked like a giant bug weed. I stepped out onto one of its branches. Whilst simultaneously in the body and astrally projected, somehow, I could see myself from behind and above.This dream began as I boldly, in mid-stride, walked towards the large soulful tree. Here, I had incredibly long hair and it was totally white.
Jah Rastafari!
The snow-white mane went down to the small of my back. Mine – it was no absurd weave. Full and luscious, it was a massive mane that handsomely flared out. Here, I met the dream magus within. I held a staff which was very wonderful. It was made of a tanned polished wood. As if something that Bill Reid would bring forth from the depths of his creative genius, it was a very sculptural staff.
“One Good Thing About Music, When It Hits You Feel No Pain!” Bob Marley
Like a totem, the staff had lots of symbols throughout its length. In some of the grooves, there were several large crystals with some of various colours. Like Merlin did, in our first dream encounter of 1978, I wore a long, white flowing robe that billowed in the wind. Whilst radiating much of my inner light, I was very regal. This was a moment of stellar beauty; too, the sight of myself empowered blew me away. It was so humbling. I had a long beard and drooping moustache. It was also white and considerably longer than Merlin’s facial hair ever was. As a matter of fact, it was like the flowing, wispy beards of some Japanese and East Asian holy men.
Mighty Oak
On going out to the edge of the branch, I stabbed my staff into the tree and let out a war cry. Almost immediately thereafter, a fierce wind picked up. It was gale-forced. The sky became blackened with mushrooming, heavy grey clouds. The branch, on which I stood, was no more than four feet off the ground. The winds were so fierce that it felt as though I were out to sea. I regally stayed my ground as though the captain at the bow of a galleon – one being swept by fierce waves. Whilst anchored on the branch, all I held on to was the staff. With my free hand, I held on to a branch on the left – of course, the branches moved with a life of their own. The tree was partially submerged in the ghaut that bordered the back of the Crab Hill, Sandy Point, St. Kitts property. Looking across the ghaut, I had been facing due north. The winds were so fierce that I could never see to the other side of the ghaut. What’s more, it was a much wider gorge than Crab Hill’s. Besides which, I had no time to project that far.
The Force Behind the Power
Bob Marley & the Wailers. Trench Town Rock LIVE
For one thing, the winds were too fierce and for another, the task of staying atop this branch proved far too demanding. This wind was fiercer than anything I had ever experienced. The saving grace of it all was that it was not, thankfully, a wintry wind. The funny thing about the whole experience was that I had called forth the elements to energise my being. So in tune with nature was I, I was able to summon the gale-force winds at will. I wished to align with nature’s empowering, life-sustaining energies. I was fiercely enjoying the charge from it, screaming aloud and becoming transfixed. It truly was as if being stationary whilst flying at hyper-speeds in an upright position; thus, there was the dual sense of being not only on the high seas but also as if riding on a magic carpet.
Copper Pyramid: The Portal to Shamanic Quests
There was one point that, as I screamed into the wind, I immediately then saw my face from above. Whilst simultaneously astral-projected, I was looking down into my face as I looked up into the billowing clouds. Beyond those clouds, there was some spectacular planet-being; it was much like the one that I thrillingly encountered in the dream earlier this year, on Tuesday, September 22, 1992. This was quite an exhilarating experience. I felt a massive surge of energy flowing through the staff and into me. The staff was marvellously potent. The look of the staff was a mélange of the creative geniuses of the artists, Bill Reid, Antoni Gaudí and Erté. A very shamanic, magical totem it was. My face was possessed of a very high forehead; my face was also timeworn. A face that had spanned several millennia, to date, it certainly was. More than that, there they were my familiar, papaya-seed-succulent brown eyes. Here, they were large, supra-dilated eyes.
Oscar Peterson Trio – Night Train
After lying there fully recalling the dreams just experienced in soul-satiating lucidity, I got from bed, fed Whoopi whilst she loudly purred, made my way to the living room and sought the warm embraceable magic of Oscar Peterson’s genius at his most profoundly sublime…
One Love. Bob Marley, 1977
Whenever this song plays, I will ever remember the night after attending Bob Marley’s concert at Maple Leaf Garden; it was November 1, 1979 and I was in my second year at York University with a hell of a lot of freedom away from my controlling mother, who was then in the early stages of the colon cancer which would claim her, a year later. Oddly enough, she was convinced that she was with child and had even begun buying diapers. After the concert, Michael, Terry, Vincent, Arnold, Donovan and I climbed into a couple of cabs and were off to Vincent’s place on Yorkville Avenue. Donovan I had met on New Year’s Eve and left the party with and bedded for the next several months. We all wore white to the concert and Vincent, who was a wealthy biracial Bajan with the most beguiling green eyes, had organised the evening. Michael was Jamaican with the most beautiful big bubble butt and a cock that can best be described as a baby elephant’s trunk. Terry was Afro-Indian from Trinidad with a temper that I knew well to stay clear of. Arnold, Nova Scotian with the sweetest laugh, was always great company. Whilst they all drank Bajan rum and enjoyed themselves, I spent most of the time, shaking ass to more Bob Marley. Everyone was in the early to mid-twenties at most with me still then nineteen years old. It was one of the best concerts ever and a spiritual moment of truly high order. Naturally, we ended up a tangle of legs, arms, tongues, cocks. Listening to this music recently, I realised that not only was I the only one of the group left, more importantly, they had all perished of AIDS, as I had recently leant of Terry.
Robert Nesta Marley 6/2/45<O>11/5/81
Michael: This fragment is (still – currently incarnate) a third level old sage – third life thereat. Robert was in the power mode with a goal of growth. A spiritualist, he was in the moving part of intellectual centre.
Body type is Mars/Saturn.
Robert‘s primary chief feature was arrogance and the secondary stubbornness – a contributing factor in his death; he refused some medical treatment.
The fragment Robert is second-cast in second cadence; he is a member of greater cadence one. Robert’s entity is seven, cadre one, greater cadre 1, pod 414.
Robert’s essence twin is a sage and his task companion an artisan.
Robert’s primary needs were: expression, freedom and acceptance.
There are 19 past-life associations with Arvin and 13 with Merlin. ___________________________________________
This song, this Diana Ross performance, perfectly encapsulates the empowerment and beauty of spirit that I felt on awakening from this most rapturous of dreams. I simply cannot fathom the lack of depth and awareness of persons, who never recall their dreams – truly foreign to me. Also, I include this song here because although I am not a big Diana Ross fan, I’ve only ever seen her once in performance, I share here as a tribute to all five persons with whom I attended that Bob Marley concert at Maple Leaf Gardens 44 years ago; they were, every last one of them, a diehard Diana Ross fan and lived vicariously through her music, beauty and style.
van der Pelster, Joop 12/7/43 ]O[ 29/8/2023 NLN/Montréal
Michael: The fragment who was Joop was a fifth level old artisan – second incarnation at this level – in the observation mode, with a goal of stagnation, a pragmatist, in the emotional part of intellectual centre.
This fragment had a Saturn/Lunar body type.
Joop’s primary chief feature was stubbornness with a weak secondary of self-deprecation.
Joop was sixth-cast in his cadence and his cadence is fourth in the second greater cadence. He is a member of entity one, cadre one, greater cadre 7, pod/node 414 – cadre mate of both Merlin & Arvin’s.
Joop has a discarnate artisan essence twin whom he did know in childhood and an incarnate priest task companion, with whom no plans were made to meet in this lifetime.
This was a resting life for this fragment, whose three primary needs are: security, communion and exchange.
He was a sculptor in Russia – at the time of the 1917 revolution, took a stand with the communists and was killed in a riot in St. Petersburg. He chose not to be reborn during the Second World War, in Western Europe, but in an old soul country, rather than a mixed young/mature society.
At that time, the Soviet Government was very early-young soul repressive, while the general population was mid-cycle mature and even though he was only 30 when he died in that previous life, he chose not to be reborn in the Soviet Union and took a resting life in the Netherlands.
Arvin feels a connectedness with Joop because they are in the same cadre and Joop has a great deal of service in his casting, as does Arvin. Here is a priest-cast artisan who is a member of an entity one, so he has needs to serve both the higher ideal and the common good.
There is a great deal of the “Visionary” here, which is one of the seven aspects of the Artisan. He is also a “walker” in that he can pierce the veil between the planes at will, even though Joop did not call this phenomenon by name.
Joop and Arvin have known each other in many previous lives. They have been lovers of both sexes and of both hetero and homoerotic orientation. Joop has filled the mentor position in Arvin’s support group three times.
Perhaps the most notable life that this fragment had was in the late sixteenth century-early seventeenth century, when Joop was the Flemish portrait painter and depicter of religious themes, Anthony Van Dyck. Anthony was later knighted, and is known historically as, Sir Anthony Van Dyck.
He was a good friend, sometimes-lover and collaborator of Peter Paul Rubens. Both of these men were bisexual and lusty and enjoyed the company of both men and women, even though they pretended to be very good Catholic boys.
Interestingly enough, the fragment who was Peter Paul was in the immediate past life, the imminent American photographer, Ansel Adams; same great artistic ability, different medium.
Joop did have great ability to make his lovers feel loved and this is something that generally goes along with the latter part of the old soul cycle.
They are no longer so concerned about their own sexual pleasure, mainly because it is easier for them and rather commonplace but they do generally enjoy bringing others to the heights of ecstasy.
Every mature soul should have a late old soul lover at least once, just as the opposite is true. The mature soul brings to the sex act the passion and the fire, while the very old soul brings to it the skill and patience of so many lives.
All told, to date the soul which was incarnate as Joop has had 18 past lives with Arvin and 12 with his task companion who was recently Merlin.
One of those past-life associations was in late 16th century, early 17th century Belgium when Arvin, then female, was a lover and muse of painter, Otto van Veen’s.
*From incarnation to incarnation, there are always touchstones. For Joop this was validated when venturing to his Oakville home, there I discovered that Joop collected the tiniest and most ornate, mostly gold, old world frames like those favoured from the great masters of the Flemish school. For me, having been a muse of Otto van Veen’s and Sir Peter Paul Rubens, it was no surprise that I would prove a favourite of George Hawken’s.Interestingly enough, Joop’s numerology at his passing perfectly mirrors mine at my birth. 2.1.8 = 11.
Last weekend, as I had not in ages felt, I became splayed. I was not depressed – I am not given to being thusly indulgent – too old to give a damn, frankly. In any event, Buster was being unusually withdrawn. Late at night, I caught him a couple of times, looking spooked and looking off into the pyramid room, being wide-eyed and even taking cover a couple of times. On Saturday evening, August 26, 2023, I missed my 2200 call to Joop; then again, it was not a cause for concern. I had overslept and if need be Joop would call up. Since late last year, we had been speaking every weekend, by early June, it became nightly.
Harbord Collegiate Institute
Joop had cancer and was slowly ebbing away. Back in September 1977, I had just begun my final year at Harbord Collegiate Institute. The storied high school was where architect Frank Gehry also attended. I was then in grade 13, which no longer exists, and along with studies also actively pursued dance studies. There were a few classmates with whom I messed around, nothing serious. The only adult with whom I then interacted was an artist and true eccentric. Ours, though, was never a sexual relationship, which I rather valued. He was knowledgeable, a sculptor and lived on and off in New York City, the El Dorado to which we all gravitated.
Robarts Library, University of Toronto
One cool Wednesday afternoon, instead of walking home from school to our East York residence at 122 Mortimer Avenue, along Bloor Street and across the Bloor Street viaduct, I continued along Harbord and made it to University of Toronto’s Fort Book, its central library, Robarts Library. Before getting down to studies, I had been poring through copies of African Arts magazine; I was eager to start an African mask collection so research was essential. Just as I began leaving a couple of hours later, I emerged outside facing due east at the top of the steps, a plume of smoke drifted my way and looking over, I caught the eye of the smoker. Diminutive, he was readily recalled from a dream the week prior. He smiled, just as he had in that dream and we both made for each other. He offered his cigarette, I declined by forthrightly stating, “you know, if you want to kiss, all you have to do, is ask?” Twenty minutes later with the most spectacular twinkling blue eyes ever, we shared our first kiss in his Oldsmobile Cutlass in the parking lot at 1111 Broadview Avenue, less than ten minute walk from my home.
Soon, I would abandon Robarts for the drive out to Joop’s Oakville home, which he shared with dark & handsome, Niles Milford. They kept their swimming pool open for lots of frolicking fun well into October. There were a few threesomes but most of all, I had the most sublime moments of ecstasy when lovemaking with Joop. The first time we were intimate, we walked into the bathroom to shower together and he winked at me as I stood arrested and awestruck at seeing, for the first time, my aura; Joop’s aura was also visible. Clearly, it was not the first time that he had witnessed this. Every timer thereafter, I always saw my aura when Joop and I were intimate – it was always intimate rather than sex or fucking; there is simply no other way to describe what it was like being with Joop.
The Belvedere, Montréal
Soon, Niles & Joop were relocated to Montréal, living in tony TMR (Town of Mount Royal) by late winter 1978. For the rest of my life, each August, I received a birthday card from Joop. Our love was deep and abiding. No matter where we were, we always managed at least once per month to talk by phone. From that first phone call, we had the most intense phone sex. Every time, we came simultaneously and few were the times when I saw my aura afterwards on taking to the bathroom. Though they never met and never spoke, one thing always fascinated me; Merlin & Joop sounded exactly alike on the phone. This was even more so evident with Merlin’s passing in November, 1989. A month later, December 1989, Niles died of cancer; Joop and I then had each other, preventing the other from falling apart.
Copper Pyramid in Green Bedroom
Sensing that the end was nigh, I recharged my trusty crystals and burnt beeswax candles through my art-filled home whilst meditating and sleeping in the pyramid. As the energy of the pyramid is considerable, I never sleep longer than four hours at a time, the dream activity therein is intense and any longer duration proves exhausting. Saturday, Sunday and Monday, I slept more than 7 hours each day, which is unheard of for me. I was splayed and feeling dislocated; I knew well what was about to unfold. Sunday night, we talked for just under five minutes in our daily communion. On Monday, he did not answer, which had previously occurred. Again, on Tuesday, he did not respond; he did say that he was sleeping longer and dropping off well before 2200. I thought to suggest that we speak, going forward, changing the time of our rendezvous to 2100. I wrote an email and suggested we chat in the daytime on Wednesday, if not, I would speak later.
The phone finally answered; however, it was Joop’s executor. Joop had been discovered seven hours earlier. Instantaneously, the dross that had enervated me, evaporated. My longest enduring friendship, love affair was over. The one lover/friend with whom I had never once had a falling out; on the cusp of 46 years, after months of cocooning, Joop unfolded his wings and took flight, becoming refocussed elsewhere. Sweet and blissful dreams my love; the most intimate lucid dreams, we shall yet share.
After having a good cry, over two days, I slipped into six- inch Bally, black patent leather pumps, plopped in my red-tailed butt plug – I plan on going as Prinz Wilhelm von Pegged und Fisted for Halloween celebrations with a faux Irish Guards tunic. For the next several hours, West Indian to the core, I played the previous compilation of the Mighty Sparrow’s music from my Calypso-sodden childhood in the Caribbean, thoroughly enjoying myself whilst celebrating Joop’s magical, beautiful life.
Damn right! Life’s no dress rehearsal, shake arse at racist boors whilst laughing loudest!
Glenn Gould’s childhood home in Toronto’s Upper Beaches @ 32 Southwood Drive
After all these years, I made a pilgrimage to Glenn Gould’s childhood home at 32 Southwood Drive in Toronto’s Upper Beaches neighbourhood where red and white oak trees baronially lord over the winding, hilly streets.
White Oak on Lawn of 32 Southwood Drive in the Upper Beaches, Glenn Gould’s Childhood Home
Just look at that gorgeous white oak anchored on the edge of Glenn Gould’s childhood front lawn. Toronto truly is a city that’s mushroomed in the most lush forest that lines one of Great Lakes. Always, I love summers in Toronto for this reason.
J. S. Bach Goldberg Variations Glenn Gould 1981
For all time, this music will be of benefit to me; ever the memories it affords of Merlin buoy me up.
Glenn Gould statue at Canadian Broadcasting Corporation’s Headquarters Front Street West, Toronto
I’ll always remember that cool autumn evening, on the cusp of the Full Moon, in 1982 when Merlin called me up in New York City from Toronto, crying; he said that Glenn Gould had died. Three days earlier, when we first met, he spent much of the evening, talking about Glenn Gould and how much he admired him.
Bitches Brew Miles Davis 1970
Also, at that time, I spent each weekend repeatedly listening to my then favourite Jazz recording, Miles Davis’ Bitches Brew. Recently, on the passing of Tony Bennett, I recalled what my father’s first cousin, the actor Cicely Tyson’s husband, Miles Davis said of Bennett. That stinging indictment was borne out by Kevin Mahogany’s tome about Bennett penchant for ignoring Black Jazz artists. Indeed, I recalled at the time of the anecdote, the point being articulated by the remark that, you will never find a photograph of Miles with that man.
Rihanna & A$AP RockyWillow & Jaden SmithSavannah & LeBron James
Kim KardashianJared LetoKelly Rowland
Peace Be Still Pharrell Williams ft. Lang Lang
J. BalvinJackson WangMaluma
Miranda KerrJohn BoyegaMegan Thee Stallion
Say Somethin’ Mariah Carey ft. Snoop Dogg
AnittaOffsetCoi Leray
Tyler The CreatorMarcus Rashford Jude Bellingham Jaylen BrownJerry Lorenzo
Happy Pharrell Williams
Karl LagerfeldJeanne BekerJohn Galliano
#BAM! Congratulations to Pharrell Williams and the creative team at Louis Vuitton. Most of all, thanks to the management/finance team at Louis Vuitton for correctly reading the planet and dropping a genius from the Hip-Hop generation into Louis Vuitton Menswear. I remember, back in the day, every Saturday at 1830, me and a bunch of Coloured Queens would hang out to see CityTV’s FT (Fashion Television) with Toronto’s own, Jeanne Beker. No other shows were more hotly anticipated than those by designers, John Galliano and Karl Lagerfeld. All the right people would be in attendance and the fashion stars from Anna Wintour to André Leon Talley would be dispensing bon mots et plus.
Anna WintourPharrell WilliamsAndré Leon Talley
Not since then have I been so wowed by a show. Like a Galliano & Lagerfeld non-haute couture show, this inaugural Louis Vuitton Menswear S/S 2024 had all that fabulous theatricality. This show though, went one octave higher, there was this fabulous, glorious music, taking you higher! I watched Angolan model, Maria Borges’s Instagram Live as she partied and hollered at the Jay-Z post show performance, featuring none other than Pharrell Williams himself. This was the most glorious experience. Stunning and that gold coat would look so nice in red!
Jay-Z & Pharrell Williams
Herbie Hancock Cantaloupe Island
And, it always comes back to the joy we have of music! Jazz is the culture, Black culture.
Spike Milligan Presented with Lifetime Achievement Award, British Comedy Awards, 1994.
Also, at the 1994 British Comedy Awards, hosted by Jonathan Ross, Neil Simon and his then wife and a rather ravishing Maureen Lipman, who hysterically buries her face into the table, among other luminaries. Of course, Spike’s biting humour came a year after Caligula II’s salacious recorded utterances were published, thereby setting the tone for the coming Second Caligulan Age. After having made it perfectly clear to Prince Harry that he did not want ‘her’ (Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex and Harry’s wife) at Balmoral at the passing of HLM Queen Elizabeth II, Catherine The Princess of Wales was left behind so that it would not appear as though Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex was being targeted.
As ever, Incitatus comes between Caligula II and his Courtesan Queen
Alas, as with the royal pantomime, there are no secrets and sooner or later the truth surfaces. The shitty little grovelling bastard, Caligula II, with his male lover ubiquitously two steps behind him and always closer to him than his Queen, had his coronation on Prince Archie of Sussex’s fourth birthday so that Meghan would seemingly have the excuse of not attending to be with her son on his birthday – god only knows human children cannot fly intercontinentally before the age of ten.
Incitatus
The lover masquerading as manservant/bodyguard. What bodyguard/servant sits behind the King in the royal box? What bodyguard/servant stands at the coronation, clutching his white gloves, hands looking as unbruised and delicate like those of a pampered male lover? Indeed, whereas Her Late Majesty Queen Elizabeth II favoured four-legged equine fare as royals have a keen affinity for horses, Jonny is nothing more than Caligula II’s three-legged Incitatus. Together, all alone at Highgrove House, whilst the fugly beard drinks and reads at Ray Mill House, what exactly do you think that they get up to? Clearly, they aren’t crocheting doilies for her to cover her fugly mug. Look at the way the manservant/lover disrobed Caligula II in the Abbey, for all the world to see, with a seductive delicacy that the toadying power-mad stud knew, would later be praised as the grovelling little bastard, Caligula II, begged to have Incitatus give it to him good… yet again.
Lucille Bogan Singing Caligula II & his Manservant/Lover through their all-night boogie
How like a three-legged Incitatus, this beauteous equine specimen is possessed of beauty to beguile any man; this Incitatus provokes the same passionate response as her racing steeds did HLM Queen Elizabeth II. These powerful rulers, drunk on power and too old and powerful to give a goddamn what the world thinks, want nothing but the best, get nothing but the best. I rather suspect that this rotation of lovers, conspicuous or not, is why Michael Fawcett was put out to pasture. No longer able to canter and stud between the royal sheets, Michael well past his cum-shooting prime, was callously replaced. This, of course, occurred in stages. This kilted Highgrove House ‘Grey’ served his apprenticeship by being within HLM Queen Elizabeth II’s orbit, effectively gaslighting the kingdom.
“Well, will you look at that, he’s got his lover sat right here in the royal box,” HRH Prince Richard The Duke of Gloucester must have thought as he peered across at the kilted Incitatus in their midst.
Naturally, at Her Late Majesty’s passing, kilted Jonny moving into position behind Caligula II, would not be cause for rumour. There was Incitatus ‘sat’ in the royal box behind Caligula II at his first Remembrance celebration at the Royal Albert Hall in November, 2022 as Sovereign/God/King/Caesar relished his reign as Caligula II at the dawn of the Second Caligulan Age. How many times before leaving to join the dog-faced beard on duty in service to the little bothersome people, did Caligula II engage in some lusty groping up kilt and heavy face-fucking then doing so on returning and being alone in his quarters with the Highgrove/Clarence House Grey stallion, virile with masterful stamina whose prostate has not yet begun to enlarge?
Caligula II & Michael Fawcett
Indeed, just like Angela Kelly was thrown to the dogs, so too did Caligula II have Michael Fawcett put out to pasture, redundant and spent his prostate enlarged. After having waited all these decades, Caligula II flexing his talons has been rapaciously vile, including, evicting Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex and his marvellously articulate and elegant wife, Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex from Frogmore Cottage. Just as well as they were paying 18 times as much in annual rent than that barrel-hipped paedophile with the carrier Porchester scoliosis gene at Royal Lodge, which is infinitely larger than the Sussex-renovated abode to which the now American habituated royals fled, to escape the racial animus of the now Waleses and their sycophantic royal household staffers.
Water colour of Sandringham House by HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales, King Charles III
Never mind Caligula II’s watercolours, how many nude portraits of his prized three-legged Incitatus exist in various stages of tumescence? These indeed are the tableaux well worth seeing than these genteel, fluid, jolly gay attempts at creative genius, which look more becoming of his gin-sodden grandmother, not the lunatic one, the maternal one.
Caligula II
Yes, indeed, this truly is the Second Caligulan Age, right down to the three-legged Incitatus. Debauched, buggered and besotted, fatty fingers Caligula II is drunk with power but most of all drunk in lust, as the little grovelling bastard night and day yearns for his coveted Incitatus.
Diana, Princess of Wales
First he had his wife, Diana, Princess of Wales murdered as he never could stand being in her presence. She was too beautiful; she was competition. Indeed, there could only be one Queen, never two. He needed a beard, an inconsequential confidante who was neither competition nor remotely loveable. Just someone to masquerade as the epitome of the beau idéal spouse. Of course, with Earl Mountbatten stage-managing all this mid-century pantomime, it all seemed to be going so smoothly. Then the sodomite got blown to bits for being a predatory paedophile of the poor inconsequential peasants’ little boys or so he thought. Thereafter, his acolyte, Caligula II, has had to very impatiently stage-manage his pantomime with far too much interference from his Tiger mother, HLM Queen Elizabeth II, with whom he could never, as a Rat, have enjoyed anything beyond grudging relations.
Restored Ugly Duchess. The Courtesan Queen
The Courtesan Queen was the ideal partner after Diana’s murder; such a spouse would have no qualms about not cohabiting when she knows that the very smell of women makes Caligula II grossly uncomfortable. Get a blithering idiot who is forever fidgeting, breaks protocol at every turn and someone of moderately keen acting skills, who does know just-so, how to behave in public and makes sure to be rude and dismissive of the untouchable non-Whites.
Queen of the Blackamoors
Deliberately, the Queen of the Blackamoors is not the centre of the frame, rather she is to the side and the mantel filled with possible blackamoor candelabras, is the photograph’s focal point.Openly ridiculing Inuit throat singers, brushing off Scottish First Minister Nicola Sturgeon, brushing off Maori dancers performing haka, fidgeting with hair as crown is placed on head at Westminster Abbey. Why pray tell must you aesthetically prey on us? Go on then, stick your hand out and call your broom; you’ve long overstayed your welcome.
The Dying Queen
Impatient with having to play second fiddle to the old death-evading crone, did Caligula II also have her knocked off? Send her to Balmoral and make sure she doesn’t come back after the summer break. She got a good send off at the Platinum Jubilee, no need to let her slip on by; before you know what, Caligula II would have to be planning for the old crone’s Oak Jubilee. Besides, HRH Prince Philip The Duke of Edinburgh, whom he truly feared, was gone. Caligula II was free to do as he pleased, without being berated by Philip and reminded of what a damn failure he is.
Perhaps, that is why I dreamt of her passing on the very eve of Caligula II’s birthday in 2021; the prophetic dream was also indicating, who would be the cause of her death. HLM Queen Elizabeth II was found face down on the floor in the morning of September 8, 2022 by staffers. Look at that final photograph of the late Queen, the back of her right hand is almost blackened as though she was on intravenous drugs and likely morphine. Trust you me, if like Tiberius he had to suffocate his mother with a pillow, Caligula II would not think twice. Caligula II is the oldest soul member of the senior royals whose Michael overleaves have been channelled and as such, he has a depth of complexity and what would seem like amoral resolve that would incite fear in everyone in that family.
John Hurt as Caligula I & Sian Phillips as Livia in I, Claudius
Two days later, HLM The Queen was found face down, dead in her bedroom. Had she been assisted or simply overdosed by Caligula II, who was done waiting forever? Diana after all was murdered. How like Caligula II, after having forced Queen Elizabeth II to speciously claim that when the time comes, she would like Camilla, the Courtesan Queen, to be known as the Queen Consort, not have had the old crone discourteously sent packing, much like Angela Kelly. Just as one would expect nothing less from Caligula II’s namesake, there was that fidgeting adulterous misanthrope, being crowned Queen not quite 8 months later. Queen my ass!
Incitatus disrobes Caligula II
Ageing Caligula II was done waiting, with his abusive pa dead and gone, time to dispense with the old crone. A Saturn Return earlier, Caligula II was openly ridiculed throughout the kingdom as at the British Comedy Awards of 1994; thus his soul was corrupted. Wounded at being the butt of the kingdom’s jokes, Caligula II damn well had to lash out. For now, Caligula II couldn’t wait for his kilted lover to disrobe him before the world and rub him the right way behind the screen with the holy oil. In all of this, his heir of Bourbon blood, has his statuesque son stand next to the sibling of his love child with his mistress, Countess Rocksavage, whose queer husband lives fulltime in Paris with his male lover, whilst they served as pages carrying his step granddad, Caligula II’s ermine robe.
Though he was with a group of 12 and 13-year olds, a very tall 9-year old HRH Prince George of Wales performed handsomely on the day. L-R Lord Cholmondeley (13), Prince George of Wales (9), Nicholas Barclay (13) & Ralph Tollemarche (12).
That’s right pepper mouth souce his ass.
After he and Caligula II had yelled and screamed at Prince Harry at the Sandringham House summit, as we now know, thanks to Prince Harry’s SPARE, there was The Late Queen Elizabeth II being a real pepper mouth, telling off William as he and his inarticulate, racist wife were the architects of the Sussexes’ departure from the kingdom; not of course were they acting without the tacit approval of Caligula II and his kilted lover, Incitatus plus the fugly beard, the Courtesan Queen.
Caligula II 14/11/48 London
Michael: Caligula II is a seventh-level mature warrior. Caligula IIis in observation mode, with a goal of acceptance and attitude of pragmatist; Caligula II is in the moving part of intellectual centre.
Caligula II’s body type is Mercury-Saturn.
Caligula II’s primary chief feature is stubbornness, secondary is self-deprecation.
Caligula II has an incarnate warrior essence twin with no plans to meet and a discarnate priest task companion, who does exert considerable influence on him.
Caligula II‘s casting, which is virtually the same as Robert Bateman’s, is entity two, cadre four, greater cadre 16, pod/node 404. Caligula II is second-cast in a fourth cadence, entity four, cadre four, greater cadre 16, pod/node 404.
*These Michael Overleaves were channelled by a channel in the original Michael group who was part of the composite Jessica Lansing in the Michael books by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro. I worked with her for 2.5 years before her passing in the late 90s. She dismissed all Michael channels as fraud save two, one of whom I have worked with over the years. As these overleaves were not requested by myself, I do not know past life connections to either Merlin or me.
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Caligula II
Caligula II happens to be the oldest soul of the senior royals whose overleaves to date have been channelled. I do not know the soul ages of the following royals, senior or minor: HRH Princess Anne, The Princess Royal, Tim Lawrence, Captain Mark Philips, Zara Tindall, Mike Tindall and their three issue, Peter Philips, Autumn Philips and their two issue, Prince Andrew, Duke of York, Sarah, Duchess of York, HRH Princess Beatrice of York, Edoardo Mapelli Mozzi and their daughter Sienna, HRH Princess Charlotte of Wales, HRH Prince Louis of Wales, HRH Prince Edward, The Duke of Edinburgh, Sophie, HRH The Duchess of Edinburgh their issue, Lady Louise of Wessex and James, The Earl of Wessex. I could very well see HRH Princess Eugenie of York being warrior-souled as for that matter, both Princess Anne and her daughter Zara Tindall. Princess Eugenie’s very strong numerology and her being born in the year of the Horse, would have her call bullshit on Prince William, The Prince of Wales in a heartbeat. Warriors tend to be wary of scholars and of course, as is obvious with Catherine, The Princess of Wales, Eugenie is the dominant partner in her marriage to Jack Brooksbank. All warriors regardless of sex, will be the dominant partner in their relationships. Also, the fact that she is rather close to and loyal to warrior soul, Prince Harry, would suggest Princess Eugenie being warrior-souled if not an entity mate of the late QEII, Harry and Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex.
Caligula II
As it is territory with which I am only too well familiar, being seventh-level mature, makes Caligula II the most complex, volatile, vicious and feared royal. Caligula II’s latter day Milonia Caesonia – of no discernible couth and as Seutonius prophetically described ‘neither beautiful nor young,’ the Courtesan Queen, is no match for him; she also happens to be a third mature scholar soul – same age as Meghan. This is why the Courtesan Queen is always seemingly so shell-shocked, forever fidgeting and never knowing whether coming or going as her circuitry is so perpetually jammed by his reptilian hissing. Caligula II & Peggalicious both have goals of Acceptance but with chief features of Stubbornness, which means that they are never fully at ease and are given to being snobbish boors who are inclined to being prejudicial, to all out racist. Clearly, the jury is not still out on this; the truth of who these two are, is plainly obvious. Incidentally, Prince William, The Prince of Wales is sixth mature Scholar and the only other channelled royal, who is older-souled than Prince William, is HRH Prince Archie of Sussex, who is a seventh mature Priest soul with rather mellow older-souled overleaves.
HLM Queen Elizabeth’s casket is lowered into the royal vault at Windsor Castle
One of the main takeaways from the Sussexes’ interview with Oprah was how many times, they went to great lengths to point out that HLM The Queen was always so good and accessible and was very inviting and encouraging of American thespian, Meghan into the family. After having buried both the obstacles to his power, Philip and Elizabeth, we now see that Caligula II having been the true power behind Elizabeth’s reign and certainly so by the time that Meghan came along. It is obvious that Elizabeth sanctioned Harry’s marriage to the Black American; however, had Elizabeth died within a couple of years of Diana, Princess of Wales’s murder, Prince Harry likely would not have been allowed to marry Meghan. It is highly improbable that either Caligula II or his Courtesan Queen would have sanctioned a royal marriage between Prince Harry and the Black Yank, Meghan. With Queen Elizabeth II removed from the scene, everything became fully focussed and there could be no mistaking where the palace machinations originate.
TRH Prince William & Catherine of Wales
Yes, the now Waleses played their part; however, they are so caught up in their own war of the Waleses that they were not the main catalyst for Meghan becoming a ‘non-working royal’ which of course is a fabricated term as there is simply no such damn thing. With Meghan having left the kingdom and levelled the very damning charge of suffocating racism against the House of Windsor, though the royals have lied and protested a bit too much, the fact remains, the flat-assed, pretentious eurotrash boor did wear a blackamoor brooch to TLQ’s Buckingham Palace Christmas lunch in 2017. Though Prince William weakly protested, by claiming a double negative, he readily outed his family and royal households as the racist boors that they are, Caligula II though has been viciously vengeful towards Meghan, for having revealed their ugly truth. Consequently, Caligula II has been working overtime to gaslight the commonwealth’s Blacks that all is well with the House of Windsor with regards race. Well Clearly Rihanna, a baroness in her own right, was not buying their lie and there went the Sovereign as head of state of Barbados within a year of Elizabeth’s death and just after I had had that rather prophetic dream of Queen Elizabeth II’s passing on the eve of Caligula II’s 73rd birthday in November, 2021.
Caligula II, HRH Prince Andrew, The Duke of York & HRH Prince Henry, The Duke of Sussex
Three pivotal men in the House of Windsor are born in the year of the Rat and with all such males, there will be trouble afoot on the home front. Caligula II is born in 1948, his brother Prince Andrew with whom he does not get along and then Prince Harry, his son, who, like Caligula II, is also a warrior soul. You can always count on warriors to add fire to any drama. Both Caligula II and Prince Andrew have 5 in the fourth position, which brings with it sexual infamy and usually something to do with homosexual scandal and more often than not sex with minors directly or by association. Prince Andrew is guilty of the latter and Caligula II is guilty by association with Jimmy Saville and his same-sex proclivities have been known for decades. A friend of Merlin’s went to school with Caligula II so I do know what I know. Caligula II 14.11.1948 Rat 5.7.2 = 5. Prince Andrew 19.2.1960 Rat 1.3.1 = 5 and Prince Harry 15.9.1984 Rat 6.6.1 = 4. Prince Harry is a completely different kettle of fish to his father, Caligula II, and uncle, Prince Andrew. Though, I do not know Prince Andrew’s Michael overleaves, I rather suspect that he is not an older soul than either his brother or nephew. The Late Queen Elizabeth II, Caligula II, William & Catherine TRH Prince & Princess of Wales are all possessed of a chief feature of stubbornness; this leaves them all with the inability to embrace change and to admit to being wrong. They are also all supreme shit disturbers. Of the principal royals: the Late Queen, Caligula II, Camilla, William, Catherine, Harry, Meghan and Prince George, Prince Harry along with Prince Philip are the only sceptics, which means that both warriors (Philip is a fourth mature warrior) see straight through all BS and call BS and will wage war until the last man drops. Prince Harry is assured that he is right. Prince Harry has a goal of growth and his secondary rather than primary chief feature, is stubbornness, which means he will not settle for any injustice and being told that truth and justice cannot prevail against all else. With the Late Queen, Prince Philip, Caligula II, Catherine, William all having a chief feature of stubbornness, they have/had no desire for the media/Fleet Street abattoirs to be challenged as it could bring about change that could prove disadvantageous. All persons in stubbornness do not like change, including a Black woman, a Black Yank marrying in.
Diana, Princess of Wales & Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex
Quick departure. To be seventh mature soul (Caligula II – warrior) is like an old soul to a sixth mature (Prince William – scholar). The vast wealth of knowledge and awareness between soul levels is just as vast as that between a young soul and an old soul. Of all the royals, what makes Prince William so difficult is that he is in the intellectual part of moving centre. All the others whose overleaves have been channelled, are in the moving part of intellectual centre. There are only two exceptions: Diana, Princess of Wales and Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex. Both are artisan souls, Diana second mature and Meghan third mature – the latter same soul age as the Courtesan Queen who is a third mature scholar. What made both Diana and Meghan such a problem for the senior royals, is that both are in the moving part of emotional centre. This is the greatest disposition for a truly gifted actor. Meghan has an emotional intelligence that stratospherically towers above all the other royals. This similitude to Diana, Princess of Wales, his mum, is what apart from the fact that they are entity mates, would have attracted Prince Harry to Meghan. She is uncannily similar to his mum and Prince William would also have found this unsettling.
Diana, Princess of Wales & Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex
Both Diana and Meghan were born to be senior royal women fully equipped for the modern age of meet and greet, exceptional charisma, and be exquisitely photogenic; this is what artisan souls do best and it helped enormously that Meghan had acted. The camera equally loved both women; additionally, Meghan had mastered the art of being on. Sadly, as baroness Marie-Christine demonstrated, the island kingdom dwellers were not prepared to have their millennia-aged iconography corrupted by descendants of the enslaved, certainly not Caligula II, the little grovelling bastard.
HLM Queen Elizabeth II
The Queen was a realist with a goal of dominance, she would not have feared Meghan marrying in; HLM The Queen would have perceived the union of Prince & Princess Henry of Sussex as advantageous to the Crown. HLM The Queen knew Meghan to be an asset with great appeal to the commonwealth; she also knew her at soul centre as Meghan, Harry & HLM The Queen are entity mates. However, The Queen’s heirs and Catherine did not see it this way. Prince Harry marrying Meghan was seen as a betrayal by Caligula II, Courtesan Queen & TRH Prince & Princess of Wales.
Baroness Marie-Christine, Princess Michael of Kent
That flat-arsed woman and her uncouth open racial attack on Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex, was obviously the tip of the iceberg of abuse to which Meghan was being subjected within the palace, from the royal households and other principals, not just Prince William and Catherine, The Princess of Wales. As is plainly now obvious, Caligula II and the Courtesan Queen also played their part in sabotaging Meghan’s royal life. Because the principal players all possess(ed) a chief feature of stubbornness, their handling of this incident would prove catastrophic for the House of Windsor with nasty repercussions. Straight away, they should have seen the importance of Meghan far outweighed that of the Prince & Princess Michaels of Kent. If anyone is truly non-working royal, which is a fabricated term to racially ostracise Meghan, it is baroness Marie-Christine, the Eurotrash pretentious boor, who is in the same league as the Jamaican fabulist of obvious gender treachery. Baroness Marie-Christine and her husband should simply have been evicted from Kensington Palace – like Caligula II has callously done The Sussexes from Frogmore Cottage – and made to live offsite somewhere in Mayfair or elsewhere, just as Caligula II has done Angela Kelly. There was no greater value for dollar to the monarchy of the Prince & Princess Michael of Kent over the Duke & Duchess of Sussex – age, diversity, charisma and appeal. Nonetheless, Meghan was too great an affront to the stubborn-focussed Elizabeth II, Caligula II, William and Catherine, Meghan instead simply had to go.
HM Queen Elizabeth II
The time to have acted was swiftly, decisively, back in December, 2017 and not let things fester in the hope that the exposed anti-Black racism of senior and minor royals would simply go away. Of course, when it all came undone, they began blaming that problem ‘Yank’ and talked crap about “recollections may vary.” The hell they don’t! Every Black in the commonwealth diaspora saw the blackamoor brooch worn by Baroness Marie-Christine and our hearts sank, knowing the sheer hell to which Meghan clearly was being subjected. Guilty as all hell of having made Meghan’s life living hell, all the major principals chose to go with their chief features of stubbornness; they simply ignored the little negro Yank (Meghan) and began clawing at every well-placed Black in the island kingdom and their shadow. Of course, what had been done to Diana, Princess of Wales was being meted out to Meghan – let her self-destruct.
Princess Margaret, Countess Snowdon & King George VI’s Equerry Captain Peter Townsend
Recently, I was invited to a lovely Sunday brunch in one of the ubiquitous much-too-tall condos – 58th storey suite with views south to more condos, blocking any chance of seeing Lake Ontario – 46% of all construction cranes in North America are in Toronto. Invariably, talk turned towards the House of Windsor. One guest, Alexandra, was a charming, flame-haired, ancient beauty, well into her tenth decade, began casting light on the Late Queen whom, she assured us, no one truly knew. Born in Rhodesia, like all moneyed Whites, her family had a farm in Africa… charmant. In any event, eventually, she would move to South Africa and when Nazi sympathiser, President P. W. Botha appeared intent on race war or genocide, she and family left Cape Town and settled in Toronto.
Trooping the Colour, Horse Guards Parade early 20th century
Her only husband would recently die during the Covid pandemic. Though she also had Covid, she has survived and lived on, being pleasantly eccentric with a razor sharp wit, crystalline memory and the warmest blues eyes. Her father had been high up in the military and his family had served the monarchy for the last two plus centuries. Thus it was that she travelled from Rhodesia each June, for two months, in London. They took in the trooping the colour ceremony, the Royal Ascot and visited relations who lived equally baronially.
Buckingham Palace Garden Party early 20th century
She attended garden parties at Buckingham Palace when a teen; there, she met both Princesses Elizabeth and Margaret, her contemporaries, the latter being much more handsome than her sister, she authoritatively stated. Then talk turned to what a not pleasant character the late Queen was. As the story goes, the royals had hectares next to her colonial family’s hectares in Rhodesia and it was there that Princess Margaret was sent by the Queen and whilst waiting, told that the dashing King’s equerry, Margaret’s lover, Captain Peter Townsend, would not be joining her in Rhodesia after all. Townsend had been banished to Belgium instead and that was that. Well, my darlings, according to the fascinating guest, Margaret had a complete breakdown of operatic proportions, screamed, wailed night and day and ran about naked and set fire to one of the houses on the vast estate. Obviously, the Queen was well familiar with Margaret’s temperament so had sequestered her in the colonies where her expected breakdown would be well out of reach of the London media.
Meghan, Harry & Prince Archie Vancouver Island, Canada
Said Alexandra, if it proves a problem, simply ship it offshore with talk of things getting well soon, only to have the rug pulled out from under the disposed bother. What Meghan and Harry were put through, in being shipped off to Canada, was simply the late Queen, doing as she had done before. Rather insightful indeed; she was adamant that the whole affair had been handled disastrously. Said the marvellous raconteuse, the pompous Marie-Christine – Alexandra haughtily referred to the racist boor as baroness, never princess – should have been sent packing off Palace grounds. Harry and Meghan, said she, were the only hope of saving the empire (rather than commonwealth), which of course is what it truly is, nothing more than rebranding to keep up with the times. Margaret, said Alexandra, had never recovered from how the Queen had betrayed and punished her.
Princess Margaret 21.8.1930 /\ 3.2.6 = 11. Meghan, Princess Henry 4.8.1981 /\4.3.4 = 11
One thing that should be noted is the similitude that exists between both Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex and HRH Princess Margaret, Countess Snowdon. Being possessed of master numbers has a two-fold quality; with the good comes the bad. In both person’s case being possessed of master number 11 brings with it great talent but also great trial. Whereas HRH Princess Margaret was a talented pianist with a great singing voice, so too is Meghan a great actor who is exceptionally articulate. Master number 11 speaks of great fame; what it always brings, is great jealously to the point where one risks being maligned and sabotaged by others rather than of one’s doing. HLM Queen Elizabeth II sabotaged HRH Princess Margaret because she was too sparkling and brilliant.
If it looks like aubergine, it is not a cucumber! Let those with eyes see. Catherine & Ben
So, too, the woefully inarticulate Catherine, HRH The Princess of Wales, who spends inordinate time with The 1851 Trust clearly obsessed with Olympian Ainslie’s oar, had her task companion, HRH Prince William, The Prince of Wales with tacit support from Caligula II and his neither beautiful nor young Milonia Caesonia, The Courtesan Queen engage in an ongoing campaign of sabotaging Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex’s persona and image. I think that there may well be an element of karmic payment at play here; consequently, it could simply be karma being created, based purely in jealousy and racial animus. At the end of the day, Catherine clearly is now merely Rose’s understudy as Diana, Princess of Wales was the Courtesan Queen’s; either way, Catherine will always be King Mother. Moreover, unlike the chatelaine of Haughton Hall, Catherine is never mistaken for an alpaca.
Duke Ellington
As we got from the table and began prepping for bridge, which by the way, I do not play, the host began playing Jazz at which, Alexandra chimed in and began telling of her friendship and correspondence with Duke Ellington. Truly, Alexandra is a living link to history.
TRH Duke & Duchess of Sussex’s Royal Wedding & St. Paul’s Cathedral with Incitatus
Naturally, the Late Queen and her two heirs, all with chief feature of stubbornness, thought that there was no big deal in Baroness Marie-Christine, after having racially attacked Meghan, attending the Black woman’s historic royal wedding. Adding insult to injury, the same Eurotrash, anti-Black racist minor royal – who kept two black sheep she named Venus and Serena, was sat well ahead of the Sussexes at the June, 2022 Platinum Jubilee service at St. Paul’s Cathedral, and the Sussexes sat immediately ahead of Caligula II’s three-legged, eavesdropping Incitatus.
HRH Prince Harry The Duke of Sussex & HRH Prince William The Prince of Wales
Prince Harry has a chief feature of arrogance, which is the sign of someone who is truly and innately shy; incidentally, this is why he finds the paparazzi so very intrusive and unsettling, along with the role that they conveniently played in Caligula II’s murder of his mum, Diana, Princess of Wales – this is genuinely triggering trauma for Prince Harry. Prince Harry’s chief feature, which emerges during one’s late teens – one is never born with chief features – famous persons with chief feature of arrogance are always fearful and feel themselves exposed and acutely vulnerable. At 12, Harry would have felt utterly exposed and overwhelmed with a sense of vulnerability, which would have been triggered by his mum’s murder and the obvious press intrusion. William, for being older, responded to Diana’s murder by shutting off everyone who is not within his inner circle’s orbit. Persons with chief feature of stubbornness are almost fanatical about not having their sense of order disturbed in the slightest by anyone or anything. These are rather tight-minded persons.
Prince Harry The Duke of Sussex & Meghan The Duchess of Sussex
What’s more, Meghan, Prince Harry’s beautiful, elegant, gifted wife, has a chief feature of self-deprecation, which acts internally and sees one being far too accommodating and apologetic when being picked on and abused. This is readily discernible in the text exchange between her and Catherine, The Princess of Wales, shared in Prince Harry’s searing memoir, SPARE, which incidentally could only have been written by a royal with an attitude of scepticism, Prince Harry. Persons with the attitude of sceptic (Prince Harry – and incidentally, yours truly) do not fear anyone. Such persons will take the fight to anyone in a quest to defend the truth and veracity of anything that one holds dear.
The Waleses & Sussexes Windsor walkabout, 2022
If you think that Caligula II is not racist then do keep in mind that Prince Harry, as outed in SPARE, demanded that his father, Caligula II, cease referring to his wife, the Black Yank, as that woman. Then, though this in no way excuses their own anti-Black racism, William insisted that the Sussexes join him and Catherine on the Windsor walkabout in September, 2022 after The Queen’s passing; at the end of the day, William is Diana, Princess of Wales’s son and he has a goal of Acceptance, which is precisely what such a person would have done. People who do not have a chief feature of stubbornness find such persons the most acutely uncomfortable to be around, this is why that day, Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex genuinely looked fearful around William and Catherine, who with their 9 numerology are extremely difficult to have to suffer, especially when such persons have made an enemy of you and told lie after lie after lie.
Cressida Bonas attends royal wedding of TRH The Duke & Duchess of Sussex May, 2018
Had Prince Harry married the very acceptable White Briton of impeccable pedigree, Cressida Bonas, none of this racialised madness would have unfolded. Of course, true to form, once having been confronted by their racism, the three major senior House of Windsor royals, Queen Elizabeth II, Caligula II and William, Prince of Wales dug their heels in and, in essence, defended Princess Michael of Kent’s racist attack on The Duchess of Sussex. The Sussexes were shipped off to Vancouver Island then whilst there, the 5 Sovereigns gauntlet dropped during The Queen’s 2019 Christmas message broadcast, which was their response to the Sussexes wanting time out and a likely apology, which would never ever happen – fuck you, you do not count!
HM The Queen Christmas Message, 2019 – The Five Sovereigns
That was the betrayal of the Sussexes which was tantamount to Princess Margaret being shipped off to Rhodesia only to be hoodwinked when instead of joining her later, Captain Peter Townsend her lover, was exiled to Belgium. What they had not anticipated after the Camilla Tominey lie that Meghan made Catherine cry, was that Meghan would lay down the law to Harry and say, “I want out now and you are coming with me!” Stupidly, these people actually thought that she would stay there and take it.
Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex, Meghan The Duchess of Sussex & Oprah Winfrey
Of course, with an attitude of scepticism, Prince Harry saw every member of the House of Windsor for the vile creatures they were with regards to racism. It is plainly obvious that with only two more Christmas messages left to go, the Queen was not only terminally ill with cancer and dying but Caligula II was Regent, calling all the shots, and was fully supported by his equally racist son, William, The Prince of Wales both of whom have a chief feature of stubbornness. I think that it is plainly obvious the senior royal whose identity Prince Harry chose to protect during his sit down interview with Oprah Winfrey, with regards Prince Archie’s skin tone and what having a negro grandson would look like. Shock. Horror. Dread!
Rose Rocksavage (white dress with black trimming and bow) Williams’s lover at Caligula II’s coronation
It was Prince William, who declared when congratulated on Prince Archie’s birth that he was already an uncle to the coalmining muggles of his bothersome wife, who inconveniently stands in the way of he and Rose, Countess Rocksavage living blissfully ever after. Naturally, after the sit down interview with Oprah Winfrey on CBS in March 2021, Caligula II, who was Regent in all but name, decided to begin the full retaliatory campaign of, “We are very much not a racist family.” To that end, at Prince Philip’s (fourth mature warrior who happens like Harry to be a sceptic but with a chief feature of stubbornness) passing, Caligula II went all out on the ‘token negroes’ campaign, part of which was letting the kingdom become used to the notion of a slimmed down monarchy.
Baroness Benjamin of Beckenham, Baron Boateng of Akyem & Wembley + Baroness Scotland of Asthal
Thus it was that Prince Philip’s service of thanksgiving at Westminster Abbey, had the BBC’s Huw Edwards feature three exceptional token negroes of Caligula II’s. Trotted out were they as a show of the royal family’s inclusiveness and the fact that they could not possibly be racists; after all, recollections do vary. What other response could there have been by persons in denial but betray their guilt in the process?
Soprano Pretty Yende, Ascension Choir & Baritone Roderick Williams
Well Along comes Caligula II’s coronation and there were more token negroes embalming massa’s guilt complex no end. Seriously, where were all the token negros at the Late Queen’s Diamond Jubilee celebrations? Certainly, there were no such persons visible at William & Catherine’s snooze fest nuptials at which they rowed all the way from Westminster Abbey to Buckingham Palace.
Baroness Amos of Brondesbury, Rev. Hudson-Wilkin Bishop of Dover & Baroness Benjamin of Beckenham
Always ready to cakewalk and shine for massa, there was Baroness Benjamin again more proudly rigid as though like Prince William, she were similarly pegged, who’s recently afforded the none too unaware the Freudian slip of being in high heels – quelle surprise ça. There was the empire’s largesse being bestowed on commonwealth third-tier fare like Baroness Benjamin, who along with Baroness Amos of Brondesbury and Rev. Rose Hudson-Wilkin Bishop of Dover filled out Caligula II’s quota. All three carried symbols of might and oppression that effected the ancestors’ enslavement andthe concomitant racism that endures to this day.
Baroness Fenty of Bridgetown evicts Caligula II and his clan
Astutely aware, a real baroness, Baroness Fenty of Bridgetown, got on the phone and seized the opportunity to throw off the yoke of empire. After Oprah’s interview of the Duke & Duchess of Sussex, in short order, there was Baroness Fenty, telling the world that the shitty little bastard, Caligula II, would never be sovereign of Barbados. Callously, Baroness Fenty saw to it that the handover of the British flag would be at night, thereby excluding the fugly duchess from the ceremony. More importantly, the process was expedited by scrapping a referendum and declaring oneself a republic well before The Queen could be discovered face down on her bedroom’s floor at Balmoral House. That, indeed, is how a real baroness, Baroness Fenty of Bridgetown, conducts herself. Like a true Queen, Baroness Fenty of Bridgetown made it perfectly clear that no one on her island kingdom of Barbados would ever bow to the little grovelling bastard, Caligula II.
Courtesan Queen with protective brolly & bag to ward off the repugnant heat/Natives
Of course, if the handover ceremony were at daytime, the god fugly Courtesan Queen would have attended with her convenient brolly and handbag whilst scaring the natives. Her crutches to hand, they would have afforded her an excuse for not shaking hands with said otiose bastards, much as she dismisses Inuit throat singers, and New Zealand singers performing a haka.
Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex at Caligula II’s coronation attired head to toe in Dior
Nasty, little libidinous Caligula II of Athenian disposition, as common as White queers partout, wanted that Black woman nowhere near him and his realm. Thus not only was Prince Harry told ‘that woman’ was not invited to Balmoral but Caligula II saw to it that it would not occur as Catherine, The Princess of Wales was made to stay behind, which automatically precluded Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex attending – at least this was the outward cover story. Naturally, as Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex happened to have been in Britain at Queen Elizabeth II’s passing, she could not have been banned from the funeral. However, nasty little racial predator Caligula II had the Middleton in-laws attend his coronation sans their spouses so that Harry attending alone, would not look as obviously a snub of Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex as it was. Coward to the core, Caligula II saw to it that his coronation was on Prince Archie’s fourth birthday, conveniently, outwardly affording Meghan an excuse not to attend and the media another excuse to blame Meghan for not attending.
Caligula II Being Crowned: Oh my darling Boy, kiss me… Oh yes!
Indeed, the little grovelling bastard has grown drunk with power and proven a foul racist boor. Of course, with mummy and pa well out of the way, Caligula II can rule unchallenged with his pegged, fisted and miserably wedded accomplice, equally possessed of racial animus towards Blacks. Fatty-fingered Caligula II has quite effectively whitewashed the House of Windsor of the Black Yank. Caligula II has not in the least unconsciously painted a royal portrait as he would have it. With deft attack, Caligula II has employed a patina that slavishly strives to suppress any palimpsests of disturbing aspects of the empire’s past.
Doria, Harry & Meghan, Diana, Princess of Wales & Jack Spencer, 7th Earl Spencer
Dearest HRH Prince Archie & HRH Princess Lilibet of Sussex not to worry, you’ve got the most wonderful and loving parents, Harry & Meghan, a loving grandmother whom you know, Doria, who loves her special flowers in you. You’ve the most ravishingly wonderful guardian angel, granny Diana, Princess of Wales and great great grandfather, Albert ‘Jack’ Spencer, The 7th Earl Spencer. Don’t sweat the small stuff, every mighty oak will always have withered, dead branches, lightning ravaged and seared… spent. Forget about them, you’ve the most loving branches whose acorns you are and you will carry that love, adding your enriching branches whose acorns will thrive for millennia to come.
Karma Knows Nothing of Mercy: Caligula II Pelted With Eggs & Boos, York, November, 2022
Long millennia after the debauchery and sloth of the Second Caligulan Age, the little grovelling bastard, Caligula II, will never be fondly recalled but risibly dismissed as the inimitable Spike Milligan rightfully did.
Karl Lagerfeld, one of the most eccentric, creative geniuses of the 20th/21st centuries. This is a tribute to the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Costume Institute Benefit, 2023. Who can forget the 90s each Saturday evening, watching Toronto’s Jeanne Beker on CityTV’s FT: Fashion Television. I always looked forward to any segment that featured the gloved, fast-talking eccentric with this fan and clipped laughter. His fashions are, of course, legendary and the Chanel suit was reborn with understated elegance thanks to him. What’s more, always in Lagerfeld’s orbit were exciting personalities and eccentrics like André Leon-Talley, Anna Piaggi, Baroness Amanda Harlech, Inès de La Fressange & the archly eccentric Isabella Blow.
This year, the Costume Institute’s Ball was co-chaired by Roger Federer, Penelope Cruz, Michaela Coel, Dua Lipa & Anna Wintour. Later this month, KARL LAGERFELD A LINE OF BEAUTY celebrates Lagerfeld’s reign as creative genius at Balmain, Patou, Chloé, Fendi & Chanel.
Yung Miami, I loved the theatricality of this costume. She carried it off handsomely, has a great personality and was escorted by the ever debonair, Diddy!
More fashion brands by the season, it would appear. Chi Ossé is a New York City Council member and his numerology suggests a lifetime in politics. I love the cut and tailoring of his bespoke attire.
Eddie Redmayne and his wife, Hannah Bagshawe are beautifully dressed; his suit’s detailing is elegantly understated and there is a lot of lines and textures going on with her Alexander McQueen, none of which outdoor each other.
Ariana DeBose though having won an Oscar for her explosive star turn in Steven Spielberg’s remark of West Side Story, earned herself no end of scorn for turning up at the 2023 BAFTA Awards and turning her performance into some ‘woke, hip hop, American affair. When are Americans going to dispense with Britons and their stinking sphinctered condescension. Beautiful gown. Love her style.
Vittoria Ceretti, is one of the next wave of catwalk goddesses strutting, vamping and leaving us all besotted. She is über chic and then some. Elegant.
Though previously ruled by the inimitable Karl Lagerfeld, Balmain is now the house of young creative genius, Olivier Rousteing. His creations are truly futuristic yet grounded in practicality, sensuality and function. Above all else, humour reigns.
New York City Ice Spice beautifully evokes Lagerfeld’s fluid style with the camera prop, which was definitely not in common use by the time of her reincarnation – whoever she last was. Love her curves and attitude. Elegant.
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Conan Gray’s existence was sheer mystery to me until he appeared, dripping of fluid style at the 2023 Met Gala. His fluidity and fan are marvellous odes to Lagerfeld, indeed.
This devastatingly handsome, phenomenally multifaceted performer, Jeremy Pope, is a joy to behold whether onscreen or onstage. Here’s to the next generation’s of sexy leading man. The Costume Institute’s ball is a theatrical event, who better to bring be this year’s showstopper. Ingenious creativity on the part of Olivier Rousteing yet again.
Usher chose to highlight the designs of a young African-American designer. As ever, he looks suave, cool and as sophisticated as crooners before him: Teddy Pendergrass, Barry White and Marvin Gaye.
Emily Adams Bode, fashion designer and next generation industry superstar. She is ethereally elegant in this pale yellow design.
Toronto Born fashion designer and activist, Aurora James, is elegant, understated; she brought some Canadian content to the Costume Institute Ball, 2023.
Isabelle Boemeke aka Isotope, young nuclear clean energy activist also attended the ball.
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Dynamic American photographer, Tyler Mitchell was stylishly elegant in an eclectic design by Bode.
Los Angeles Clippers basketball star, Russell Westbrook arrived in a colourful but subdued, was part of the collection of athletes in attendance.
NFL championship quarterback Patrick Mahomes and his wife, Brittany arrived outfitted in BOSS designs.
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Coming on strong, the devastatingly dashing Italian tennis player, Matteo Berrettini serves up nothing but aces in this superb Boss suit.
Columbian heartthrob, singer, entertainer, Maluma turned out looking elegantly fluid in this Boss ensemble. I still do not get the appeal of tattoos but there you have it.
What would a costume ball be without Queens turning up and boy does Mary J. Blige deliver show stopping theatrical style.
The riveting actor, Jodie Comer turned up kitted in Burberry and looking every bit the thespian.
British born, BAFTA award winning actor, Naomi Ackie seems to have been the only attendee whose Burberry outfit was not the current deep dark blue and black schemata.
British model, Liberty Ross and her American music producer husband, Jimmy Iovine showed up rockign Burberry.
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BAFTA Award winner for best supporting actor, 2023, Barry McKeoghan came through wearing the blue and black Burberry of the season.
Burna Boy, one of three African kings rolled up in Burberry.
Up next, Skepta full of style and swagger as ever.
Completing the troika, the most dynamically charismatic Stormzy, the third of the African kings.
A man of exceeding charm and cool, Dr. Dre rounds out the Burberry brigade.
Britney Griner & Cherelle Griner were delightful – so glad her adventure turned out handsomely – Both were rocking bespoke Calvin Klein.
African model, Adut Akech brings her warm beauty to the proceedings, owning her Carolina Herrera gown.
Anna Wintour & Bill Nighy walk the red carpet at the Costume Ball.
Andy Roddick & Brooklyn Decker; she is pitch perfect… lovely.
Angéle, Belgian singer, goes for an edgier more avant-garde approach; it works.
Film producer, Fabiola Beracasa Beckman’s approach was mature and elegant.
The Brazilian amazon, Gisele Bündchen, went for a gorgeous vintage Chanel affair that did not disappoint.
Eaddy Kiernan Bunzel’s, Vogue contributing editor, approach was sleek, elegant and it came together beautifully. Gotta love those shoes!
The One! The Icon! Queen. Naomi pulled out another vintage design; She was stunning…. but of course.
TV producer and philanthropist, Christine Chiu, handsomely pulled out all the stops! #BAM
Seemingly, a funny thing happened on the way to the ball for Marion Cotillard… The hair? Whatever.
Bollywood meets little red riding hood and who else but powerhouse, co-chair Penelope Cruz can winningly pull this look off. Fabulous!
I am reminded of Irina Shayk’s leather outfit at last year’s Met Gala by Lily James’s black leather ball gown. Wow!
Chameleon Nicole Kidman wore the dress that featured in her Chanel perfume ad back in the naughties directed by Bazz Luhrmann. As ever, stylish, cool and elegant.
Korean singer/rapper Jennie Kim went for a edgy girly/sex kitten look. Cool!
Everybody’s Queen, living her best life and proving an inimitable inspiration to us all. Lizzo rocks the glamour of Chanel pearls and comes up winning as always.
Another co-chair, Dua Lipa, opted for Chanel and it worked beautifully. One very stunning woman and look at that Tiffany & Co necklace.
Baroness Dambisa Moyo was elegant in a Chanel with colours that a reminiscent of African fabrics. Elegant.
90s catwalk Queen, Carolyn Murphy came out rocking that amazing yellow, layered tulle affair. Her presence brought back some sweet memories of the 90s.
Canadian actor, Whitney Peak, magically pulled off the bejewelled flapper decked in tulle and diaphanous cloud of white. She was a dreamy vision of beauty.
Gossip Girl castmate of Whitney’s, Margaret Qualley, nicely pulled off the ballet ribbons and short cocktail dress, even at the Met Gala it worked beautifully.
The most exciting actor of her generation, Margot Robbie always seems on the cusp of explosive, infectious laughter. Elegant. Sophisticated.
Lauren Santo Domingo, maverick, editor and philanthropist was coolly elegant, especially so when being unintentionally photo-bombed by Lil Nas X’s painted arse.
Kristen Stewart’s turn as Diana, Princess of Wales was one of greatest revelations to say nothing of a truly commanding performance. Elegantly, this artist disappears into her roles and, more importantly, her private life is a non-negotiable.
Baroness Amanda Harlech turned up to pay respect to Karl Lagerfeld, wearing a Chanel haute couture gown which I am almost certain she modelled when his muse and later working for Lagerfeld after having been introduced by André Leon Talley as a result of a fallout with the astounding creative genius, John Galliano.
Who else but Cardi B. can stick her mile-long nails into cucumber and swirl it about a plate of gravy, sopping it up and then get that slice of cucumber into her mouth without disturbing her flawless lipstick? No one beats Cardi B. that’s who. Always, she is a welcome and refreshing sight.
Maude Apatow’s appearance was more elegant relative to last year. I do not know her work as an actor but she a quiet dignity that is readily admirable.
Vanessa Kirby to date has turned in one of the two three acting turns on Netflix’s The Crown. Her turn as Princess Margaret was riveting and totally engrossing. What a thoroughly fascinating actor and she looks damn good here too.
Though this actor’s personal life seems to have taken up permanent residence in the tabloids over the past 1.5 years, I have no idea what her acting chops are like. Not because of lack of interest, as a lucid dreamer, the less I look at films and TV the less intrusion there is on my dreamlife’s integrity. This though is a rather beautiful Chloé dress chosen by Olivia Wilde.
Margaret Zhan, Editor-in-Chief Vogue China and other impressive accomplishments aside, this star turn at the Met ball was impressive. I love her dress.
Choupette!
Jared Leto as Choupette & Karl Lagerfeld whom he will portray in upcoming biopic.
Karen Elson’s Christian Siriano dress seems slightly to have missed the mark; will she be invited back?
Ava Max’s cottony confection is a truly delicious indulgence worth pursuing.
Something tells me this woman doesn’t get out much. One does not wear a goddamn hat and certainly not one to rival Nicki Minaj’s Yosemite Sam’s affair from last year to an evening event. Come on Alex Newell. Just no!
Darling, it’s called a tea cosy, it’s not meant to be worn to a ball. Grace Elizabeth on the tail end of her 15 minutes. Next!
Gabriella Karefa-Johnson clearly did not get the memo; white next to mounds of rolling fat is not slimming. Clearly, she does not have a stylist.
Actor Alexandra Daddario opted for a pale, layered Dior and it actually beautifully works.
The ever elegant Miranda Kerr swanned to the ball in an ethereal white Dior.
Vogue marketing editor, Alexandra Michler Kopelman shows off her baby bump and expectant glow, both shown off in a beautiful two-toned Dior.
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Costume Institute Ball co-chair, Roger Federer was exceptionally refined in Dior attire.
The man with the best ‘whatever’ attitude to life circumstances, Pete Davidson exudes his unmatched cool in masterfully cut Dior.
Hey you only live once in each lifetime. I’m loving the audacity but if it were me, I would have opted for some silver talons hauts; the nails are truly next-level glam. Bravo!
Like his ex, Kristen Stewart, there is so much that’s mysterious about Robert Pattinson. He is, though, a stunning actor and beautifully attired here in Dior.
English actor, Harris Dickinson is decidedly tall and unmistakable in his Dunhill gear. I am not in the least familiar with his acting chops.
Scotsman, James McAvoy who packs serious metal, came admirably attired with a fan in an homage to Karl Lagerfeld. A winner all around, of course and he is wearing Dunhill at that.
Glenn Close always goes big and this year’s Met Gala found her in her element. She was escorted by designer Erdem Moralıoğlu whose elegant design she wore.
Fendi creative director Kim Jones, is also joined by Fendi family director of Jewellery design (r) Silvia Venturini & Delfina Delettrez. They are on a work assignment; they are not there to look glam.
Suki Waterhouse attended with her lover, Robert Pattinson in a flowery Fendi that was both cool and breezy.
Uma Abedin returns this year in a glorious Fendi design which along with hair, makeup and earrings is pure flawless elegance.
Eva Chen’s silver and green with matching green opera gloves are Audrey Hepburn chic; this colour combination actually works and beautifully set off glowing complexion.
Gwendoline Christie flesh-toned gown does her no favours. This colour next to her pale complexion renders her almost invisible. Stylist fail.
Yet, again, this Korean actress does not put a foot wrong in the style department. Song Hye-kyo is always elegant.
Precious Lee chose handsomely when opting for this Fendi design. It is flattering of her commanding presence and both elegant and restrained in all the right proportions. Stunning woman and the black leather opera gloves only add to her fierceness; she is gifted and self-aware model.
Kate Moss and daughter, Lila Moss were demure in their pale pink Fendi outfits.
Christina Ricci is chameleon; she is a boss. Lovely Fendi design.
Sometimes, you only need one Hadid to bring it. Gigi definitely came through in this memorable Givenchy design.
What a difference a year makes, and some Disney funding, Halle Bailey this year has scored a style coup in Gucci design. Showtime!
I positively love every film this Oscar winning actor stars in. Jessica Chastain’s Gucci is flawless.
Though not familiar with the British actor’s work, Daisy Edgar-Jones’ Gucci here is daring without being risqué; she’s on point.
By far, one of my favourite couples: great actor, gorgeous model whose their chemistry is sizzling. Dapper and ever debonair, he is handsome to her cool intoxicating beauty.
Three-time Emmy award winner, Julia Garner, is fittingly commanding in this caped Gucci ensemble.
Like Viola Davis and Angela Bassett, Salma Hayek has been cheated out of a deserved best actress Oscar for her star turn in Frida. That notwithstanding, she remains the most ravishing film actor of her generation and always a joy to behold on or offscreen.
Show the children how it’s done, Jordan Roth. Why it is so difficult to stand on the red carpet and not be pigeon-toed? Sienna Miller and others take note. Seriously!
Congratulations to the G.O.A.T Serena Williams on the good news of adding to her beautiful family with Alexis Ohanian. As ever, Serena looks marvellous.
Bad Bunny is the moment. Bad Bunny is hopping! Style and so much more!
Kylie Jenner brings the glam factor wherever she vamps. This is a beautiful Jean-Paul Gaultier design.
I’ve not really seen Yara Shahidi walk the red carpet before; I don’t know if it is just a matter of her being a face but this design and her body are not harmonised. Then again it could just be me and the fact that her right foot has triggered my number one pet peeve, it is sickled in.
Devon Aoki, that most exotic of oiseaux, walks the Met Gala 2023 carpet with designer Jeremy Scott whose design she clearly here favours.
Carla Bruni had the gall to diss Meghan, Duchess of Sussex on her IG page then quickly pulled it down and featured Prince Harry’s SPARE shortly afterwards and offered a review that haemorrhaged obsequiousness partout. Of course, it did not go either unnoticed or unchallenged by yours truly. The blasted, vile depilated macaque Couchon. You don’t like Blacks… Fuck You!
That’s right, keep doing your Icarian turn, Cara Delevingne; no one can ever resist a delicious slice of schadenfreude…
Caroline Lebar, team Karl Lagerfeld honcho, coming through owing the place and spreading her light.
Amber Valletta, another 90s catwalk champ; always good to see her.
Survivor. Legend. Boss. Diane von Fürstenberg. G.O.A.T that’s who!
Last year, in her Prabal Gurung pink outfit, Michelle Yeoh was not only a standout but she had winner written all over her aura. And just like that, she returns to Met Gala having become the first Asian to win best actress Oscar. Go Lady! Always, she is exceptionally elegant.
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Bryan Tree Henry got the memo. Go big or go home! Solid!
Alton Mason ain’t funning. This gorgeous star means business. This was one of the most beautiful costumes on the night. This is a Lagerfeld bride that gives Claudia Schiffer a run for her dimpled gorgeousness.
Oh my darlings, it’s the deliciously arousing Manu Rios back to keep our pulses racing. Gosh but he’s delightful.
African-American beauty queen turned actress, Rachel Smith, was a regal vision in a smoky silver strapless Lavin.
Then along came that delightful amazon, Karlie Kloss in a long black Loewe sheath. Her jewellery was spot-on and unlike Kim Kardashian’s, her pearls did work. The bowed shoes handsomely added to her allure.
Nichapat Suphap contributing editor for Vogue Thailand was smartly elegant in her black opera gloves to set off the black and white Louis Vuitton gown.
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Sino-Korean Hong Kong rapper, Jackson Wang, did not disappoint when it came to delivering his trademak style and swagger. Gorgeous.
Curvaceous model, Paloma Elsesser arrived on the arm of the designer Raul Lopez whose LUAR designed her très chic gown.
John Galliano, creative director Maison Margiela. Genius. Visionary. Shaman.
Great-granddaughter of John Paul Getty, Ivy Getty models and focusses on chiefly being an artist. For Met Gala 2023, Ivy chose this exquisitely elegant one-shouldered, tulle-covered Maison Margiela grown with multiple tassels of dripping sable-toned fringe. Details. Details. Details.
TKF Twigs, like Jennifer Lopez, one always get the feeling that at some point FKA Twigs will resume relations with Robert Pattinson. Time will tell. As with Ivy Getty’s design, there is a lot of details in this masterfully constructed design. These are the designs of a truly master couturier and that John Galliano has always been and remains. So very good to see his creative genius having a home to flourish. John Galliano is as equally eccentric and just as ravishing a creative genius as was Karl Lagerfeld.
Fiery Brazilian singer, Anitta, came through in a sculptural Marc Jacob designs with contrasting white opera gloves and the most handsome Tiffany & Co. diamond necklace with sizeable ruby pendant. Yes!
At long last, Paris Hilton is a mum and looking just as ‘hot’ as ever. I could not believe that during her interview with La La Anthony, she declared that it was her first time at the Met Gala. She looked beyond elegant whilst being walked by Marc Jacobs in his eponymous designs.
Giving Kylie a run for her money, Kendall Jenner arrived taller than usual in a shimmering minimal design by Marc Jacobs. How she and Paris Hilton managed those heels is a true mystery.
Kim Petras’s Marc Jacobs design was a bit too busy and crunched at the bustier. Just as long as she wasn’t with that triffling they/them/it/other blob was just fine. Besides, the Met is not about the alarmingly drab.
Ew! You bred with that? Georgina Chapman in Marchesa. Moving right along.
Erykah Badu doing Erykah Badu; I should think that her shadow has grown bored by now. Thankfully, no shadow has had to hang around moored to a put-through appendage for centuries… so there’s that.
David Byrne pulls up on a white bike and what’s not to love? He sports an eye-searing white bespoke suit from Martin Greenfield of Brooklyn as only he can carry off cool.
Michael Kors in Michael Kors; of course, the best dressed men always wear shades.
You can always count on Emily Blunt to bring on the hold Hollywood glamour; the lace is everything. Elegant.
Artist (singer/actor) Kaitlyn Dever decided to set pulses racing in this dramatic red gown and work it did. What a truly stunning gown.
Vanessa Hudgens came through laying on the glamour with a serious side order of sexy; that train and the eyes are fierce.
Lea Michele has survived much and still standing she does rather elegantly. Stunning; just look at that shower of shimmering metallic silver.
The very versatile actor, Ashley Park, evokes the old Hollywood glamour vibe and beautifully so.
Actor/producer, Kerry Washington’s look at last year’s Met Gala was more dramatic than her look this season. I rather favour her Tory Burch drama gown from last year to this fishtail gown. Either way, she is as ever stunning; her smoky eyes and that choker are everything.
Emma Chamberlain, internet phenom, wore a faux two-piece Miu Miu in powder blue.
Sydney Sweeney, young versatile American actor with the dreamiest eyes, wore not surprisingly a dreamy pastel Miu Miu affair.
Ashley Graham, another model, effectively used by designers to best ‘walk’ their designs at the Costume Institute Ball’s red carpet. Obviously, as arrangements go, it is a win win. I personally do not like the look of fishtail but this Nina Ricci design’s colour schemata against Graham’s tawny complexion works beautifully.
This Oscar de la Renta design chosen by Lily Aldrige is far superior than her Kaithe design worn at Met Gala 2022. The elegance of this off the shoulder affair cannot be denied. The contrasting giant salmon bow and train may, though, be distracting.
Every time I see her, I am readily disinclined to become focussed on either her or her music. Even her ode to Choupette is off; why not choose a design from one of the houses with which Karl Lagerfeld was associated. For me, she never draws you in and I have no idea what her music is like, old fossil that I am becoming. Her feline prosthetics and makeup are spot-on.
Though this is a very beautiful design worn by gifted actor, Amanda Seyfried, sorry, I just can’t get past the pigeon-toed pose. How does this daft archly gauche pose ever look good to either photographer or subject? Beautiful colour, the cut is superb and her hair is gloriously styled.
Allison Williams, American actor/scream queen, is elegantly presented in this ode to couturier, Karl Lagerfeld in this beautiful Patou design. I love the cut and colour.
Alia Bhatt, Indo-British actor, is beautifully turned out in this Met Gala favourite designer Prabal Gurung design. The shimmering princess ball gown of white tulle is ethereally chic.
Quinta Brunson nova onto the TV cosmos, bagging Emmy awards along the way. I do believe that this is her first Met Gala. Sheer black overtop creamy pink with matching two-toned train works handsomely.
After last year’s powder blue princess, tulled affair, also by Prabal Gurung, Quannah Chasinghorse has opted this year for an edgier look and this time in pink. I suppose that I am more partial to last years look, as here was more southwest jewellery on display then. Perhaps, it is the opera gloves but then lend an air of punk which may not have been the intention; nonetheless, love her energy.
Yellowstone actress, Kelsey Asbille Chow cuts a dramatic figure with her fire engine red Prabal Gurung with train. So who exactly doesn’t like a garter?
Rita Ora and her haute exoticism looked truly drop-dead gorgeous in this double-trained black number.
Gorgeous African model Anok Yai is all that and lots more. Loving the dark shades adding more drama to her fringe and gold bustier Prabal design.
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Taika Waititi is boldly debonair in this long flowing smoky gray coat with double stranded pearls and more confidence than a can of sardines. The man is damn fine.
Gabrielle Union has always been a favourite actor of mine; she is so readily engage from role to role. She really earned a major supporter in me when she and her dashing husband, Dwayne Wade, spoke very passionately at the NAACP Awards this year in support of their MTF daughter, Trans and LGBTQ+ rights. These is nothing demure about an extra thick red leather coat atop red gown with tail. Bravo!
Maya Hawke, actor daughter of Uma Thurman & Ethan Hawke, in this pose looks no dissimilar to a young Shirley MacLaine. That aside, I love the white-on-white look and the feathery details plus train nicely carries it off.
British actor, Letitia Wright is one of these born somnambulant Blacks who are forever grateful for being over lorded by the god of what is clearly one’s enemy’s religion. Trust you me, if it were that important, you would not be afforded access to their religion, anymore than a Black is afforded a best actress Oscar. Her choice of Prada design merely betrays how self-restrained her perceptions. All alas is choice.
This woman swans through life, being feared/adored for being a moneyed Jew but she will never be nothing more than a vile anti-Black racist. One does not forget! All the moneyed men in the world and she will never rise above the repugnant conceit that had her sat for that pose.
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Coming on strong, it’s none other than Chinese singer/dancer/rapper, Kai Xu Kun. What’s not to love, we share the same birthday! Beautifully attired, love the jewellery, coat’s detailing and those Prada shoes are everything.
Rami Malek’s Freddie Mercury will standout in time as one of the best biopic performances in cinema. Clean, unfussy elegance.
Kodi Smit-McPhee’s appearance this year soars stratospherically above his Met Gala 2022 appearance. The shoes and the blue detailing are restrained… elegant.
Broadway actor, Jeremy Strong successfully transitioned to TV and in the process won himself Golden Globe & Emmy Awards for his turn on Succession. There’s flair but he is a man with a family to support and seemingly not the slightest focussed on celebrity. Admirable.
Dwayne wade continues to impress and inspire millions. Tall, dark, devastatingly handsome, he drips nobility of spirit like no one else. His is such a beautifully cut coat. Fabulous human.
Was anyone else wearing Ralph Lauren? Does even matter? Jennifer Lopez looked regal and hers was the only fascinator/hat worn to an evening event which proved not to be a faux pas. Jennifer was the moment at this year’s Met Gala 2023. The lines, the fabrics, the colour co-ordination all made for the most handsomely elegant look. Queen!
Grammy Award-winning, Broadway/TV singer/actor, Julliard alumna, Phillipa Soo showed up. That’s all that matters, love the riot of black and white getting it on for a handsome design for Richard Quinn. Go Mama!
Eileen Gu’s Robert Wun red polka dots design is not what I expected of an explosive athlete. She looks beautifully poised and elegant.
This is a massive turnaround, after that unaware indulgent horror at the 2023 Oscars, TEMS does not here commit a fashion faux pas, as these feathery tendrils though fascinator, do not obstruct and look glaringly out of place. Will she ever live down her Oscars appearance? Lips, nose, eyes, brows, love her look and the feathers at the bustier, plus the fishnet face veil do it for me; she has the most alluring eyes. I want those opera gloves… Keep doing you, Darling.
Model/Actor Camila Morrone came through rocking her Rodarte design: lace, velvet, slight fishtail and train. Sensational!
Always stylish, Alexa Chung opted from an eclectic design that’s both busy and avant garde. What does it matter, it’s Alexa that’s who and it works.
Chinese model, He Cong comes on strong. This is an awesome outfit.
Ghanian-British actor/filmmaker, Michaela Coel is also co-chair of this year’s Met Gala. Her diaphanous cocoa design by Schiaparelli nicely sets off her gorgeous complexion. Her cornrows are exquisite and those golden heels are perfecton. Love her, simply stunning!
Well, much like her relationship with her escort last year, her beading did not hold up too well. Ms. Kardashian has looked way more stunning at past Met Galas.
Natasha Poonawalla, India’s vaccine Queen, showed up in a futuristic mirrored Schiaparelli and cast shards of her light partout.
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Jordan Roth is Showbiz incarnate. And boy does he know how to infuse the right dash of drama into his theatricality. Go on, show them how it’s done. What better ode to Karl Lagerfeld could there be than being a human fan; hands down best dressed attendee at Met Gala 2023.
Diddy arrived representing Sean Jean with the grandest gestures. What was most refreshing was him grabbing the black battery operated fan from production as he chatted with hostess, La La Anthony who was a gorgeous vision in white. God was she light years more sophisticated than last year. Brilliant. Back to Diddy, the black on black on black is divine.
La La Anthony’s praises I cannot sing enough. This year’s chosen design knocked it out of the park, relative to last years design which left her looking shorter and it was way too busy and the hat was just so wrong. Not to knock Derek Blasberg but La La Anthony by far was the better host this year. Go on Lady, rock it!
Comedic actor, Rachel Brosnahan came through in cape, starburst pasties all in black with come hither eye makeup. Rather alluring.
Singer/comedic actor, Keke Palmer came through in a strapless multi-beaded column gown accompanied by a billowing powder blue and mauve cape. She looked marvellous.
Julia Carey also chose a swirling geometric Simkhai and did not put a foot wrong, right down to being accompanied by her charming partner, James Corden who opted for a brilliant blue jacket to match his cool.
Mindy Kaling made a massive revolution in her Met Gala appearance this year over last year when she chose a Prabal Gurung design. Accompanied by Jonathan Simkhai, An intricate layered design, there is a lot happening here; most of all, Kaling looks light years more body confident and this photograph does not do justice to the amount of weight loss that she’s successfully shed. Simply stunning.
Billie Eilish opted to attend in a Simone Rocha design that looked better suited to a themed gathering at Halloween. Perhaps, my taken on her look is coloured by the fact that simply do not get the draw of this artist.
Model Imaan Hammam chose a sleek white column with train Standing Ground design. The stark white handsomely set off her tawny complexion and gave added drama to her amazing locks.
Designer Stella McCartney wore a beaded black jacket/mini dress with dramatic leggings and chunky footwear as she walked with Madelyn Cline & Audrey Plaza.
Actor Madelyn Cline opted for a gun-metal gray and black strapless sheath with modest train as she walked in with Stella McCartney.
Quirky actor, Audrey Plaza, I believe that her social behaviour is chiefly rooted in her personal vibrational dynamics than anything else. Interesting design they are not standouts, this speaks more to the design elements rather than not.
Filmmaker Baz Luhrmann and his wife Catherine Martin came fully kitted in Thom Browne (he at least did) and looked marvellous for it.
As with last year’s Met Gala, Thom Browne was heavily represented this year, starting with Korean model, So-Ra Choi. Hers was a massive oversized coat which asymmetrically draped about her body in heavy fabric, all of which was winningly capped off with a black fishnet face veil which nicely highlighted her heavy lipsick. Powerful.
Writer, Amy Fine Collins, 30-year veteran at Vanity Fair Magazine came with the general black & white theme with stabs of red a braided hairstyle that matched the ribbing in her beautiful Thom Browne skirt.
The ever fluid Janelle Monae chose another oversized jacket/coat dress with its hoop exposed. Then, darlings, she moved the coat from atop the hooping and began vogueing with the malleable hoop exposing her body-hugging outfit. She like Amy Fine Collins opted for a dog bag that completed the little girl in adult clothing theme to this masterfully cut Thom Browne designs.
Disney alumna, Jenna Ortega, has that magical aura which allows her to convincingly inhabit whatever role she is focussed in. Here, her costume is evocative of the swashbuckling pirate thanks to the sweep of her train and her confident swagger.
Bella Ramsey’s pose more than her costume is the winning photograph. She seems as though a mere child wide awake at the ball, neither groggy nor fazed. She is stunningly august-souled.
Another Disney alumna, whose matured into a pop princess, is Olivia Rodrigo whose costume is utterly marvellous. Love Thom Browne’s use of prime colours black and white and the range of combinations are incredible. Ms. Rodrigo is seriously fabulous…. what a great dress.
Not really classic tweed, there is something about the fibres and fabric that’s evocative of another age. The tailoring, the ribbing, the oversized stitches, to say nothing of the fishnet face veil are all winners. The real standouts are the exposed hips compensating for the monochromatic gloves is an ingenious detail that successfully works, especially so on singer, Teyana Taylor.
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Athlete Shai Gilgeous-Alexander brings it in this elegantly cut Thom Browne where white rather than black predominates. Gorgeous ensemble.
African Writer and entertainer, Trevor Noah looked decidedly handsome in his cornrows and the usual innocent smirk.
Pusha T. sports the rapper’s signature cornrows which nicely complements his two-toned Thom Browne suit.
Here’s a rather straight forward Thom Browne outfit being worn by actor Alexander Skarsgård.
The master himself, designer Tom Ford adding commanding power, style and elegance to the costume ball.
Pierce Brosnan wears Tom Ford whilst his beautiful wife, Keely Shaye Smith, is adorned in Monique LHuillier. Gosh she’s glamourous.
Next up, Seth Meyers and wife, Alexi Ashe. He definitely is attired in Tom Ford, she though I’m not certain of.
The always elegant, Joan Smalls brings her light and glamour to the gathering. Who doesn’t look sensational in black lace? Smashing!
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Always expect Bradley Cooper to be among the most stylish at any gathering. Suave and elegant.
Dee & Tommy Hilfiger appropriately attired in Tommy Hilfiger. Still going strong.
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NFL wide receiver, Stefon Diggs looking ever bit like a power athlete. Handsome man in a very beautifully cut suit.
Singer Jack Harlow returns to the Met Gala, looking even more dashing than last year. Here he does look like the subject of a 17th century Flemish painting.
Tory Burch of her eponymous design house came through as last year, looking next-level poised and glamourous. That is a very beautiful dress.
Indie folk Queen, Phoebe Bridgers wore one of the more elegant designs of Met Gala 2023. The beading and shoulder details evoke flapper/Edwardian glamour.
Emily Rajatkowski, of course, showed up. I think that I am being to get this human. This design is a bit understated for her ‘out there’ persona; it is beautiful.
Model Liu Wen, chose wisely. Off the shoulder, bouquet of white roses wrapped in a black column, black opera gloves capped off by perfect makeup.
What a difference a year makes. Just look at Nicole Peltz Beckham. She has so grown into her role of being on the world stage and a recognised actor. She glows, is more relaxed and clearly comfortable in her skin. They are genuinely a couple, Brooklyn looks ever more comfortable being her plus one. Her black ribbon choker is everything.
Go Priyanka! The Citadel is some serious chops! The white opera gloves and Nick Jonas’s leather jacket, to say nothing of the Bulgari necklace beautifully complement their synergy.
Rhianna and A$AP Rocky have graced the costume ball this year… and she is yet again expectant and it shows. Rhianna always seems to be most comfortable at the Met Gala and enjoying herself.
EGOT(Emmy Grammy Oscar & Tony) Viola Davis is coming through that’s who. No one does pink and red like Valentino and no one wears colours better than the masterful actor, Viola.
Oscar-nominated actor, Stephanie Hsu presented a beautiful interpretation on Hollywood Glamour, which in the age of gender fluidity was celebrated with the tie’s inclusion. This dress was magnificent.
Another actor at the Costume Ball, Florence Pugh certainly brought that drama in a headdress that worked at night for its theatricality and much reminded of delightful Poppy Delevingne’s blue feather fascinated worn at Jack Brooksbank and Princess Eugenie’s delightful wedding. Pugh’s black fascinator was nicely set off by the floor length black ribbon that kept her business in check as this seemed to want to spill out from the exquisite white gown with train.
Designer Vera Wang attended in a design that light and airy; mostly tulle there was an ode to Karl Lagerfeld with the use of an oversized pearl-like necklace and his first name on ther train.
Actor Lily Collins wore a black and white version of Vera’s gown with Karl’s name on the black rather than pale train.
Donatella wore a beaded pink column that was minimalist and elegant.
Actor Anne Hathaway, who rarely does events like these, looked radiant as ever in a pearl ribbing trained gown that was a clear ode to Karl Lagerfeld.
Charlotte Tilbury wore a jade green Versace which handsomely set off her healthy red mane. Exuberant.
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Sino-Canadian actor, Simu Liu looked naturally refined in this snug Versace; love those shoes.
Actor Elle Fanning, who attended Vivienne Westwood’s London memorial February past along with Kate Moss, Victoria Beckham, Anna Wintour, Chryssie Hynde, the ever bewitching Lily Cole, Bob Goldof, Bianca Jagger, Zhandra Rhodes, Edward Eninnful, Vanessa Redgrave, Bella Freud, Marchioness of Bath Emma Thynn, Stormzy, Twiggy, Marc Jacobs, Farida Kelfa, Yasmin, Amber & Simon Le Bon, Erdem Moralioglu, Tracy Emin, Paloma Faith & Alexa Chung. Elle’s floral crown and bouquet is a fitting tribute to the departed creative genius, Karl Lagerfeld.
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Finneas O’Connell always looks Straight outta the closet as he hides out in this Vivienne Westwood coat.
Chloe Fineman did a horrible job of hosting the red carpet at Met Gala 2023 along with the unflappable Derek Blasberg who did his elegant best to make sure that none of that shit got on his shoes. Her Jackson Wiederhoeft was chic and understated, all eclipsed by her deplorable social skills on the evening.
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Broadway star, Ben Platt was memorable in his white with black trimming suit proved a smash.
Unlike last Met Gala’s leather clad dominatrix chic, this year, Irina Shayk went for a totally different approach and opted for Yohji Yamamoto’s ethereal white design.
Hugh Jackman here is attired in Zegna, his wife, Deborah-Lee Furness’s attire I never discovered. As ever, the partners always look blissfully harmonious. Elegant.
NOTABLE
Agnes Chiu, president Entertainment, Condé Nast & Tom Gilmore also attended the Costume Institute Ball. All these notables are here gathered as their outfits’ designers were not readily found anywhere. Look good they did nonetheless.
When you mum is Anna Wintour, you are going to show up. The lovely Bee Corrozzini and filmmaker partner, Francesco were cool, relaxed, adding the wow factor to the evening.
Everyone’s favourite crooner, Josh Groban, who currently stars on Broadway, arrived with Natalie McQueen, tatts and all. He’s marvellously attired… smooth as ever.
Willow Bay & Bob Iger turned up in honour of Karl Lagerfeld. Gosh her gown is next-level fabulous whilst he kept it real in Karl Lagerfeld sneakers.
Kargo Global CEO, Harry Kargman and partner Jill Kargman attended the Costume Institute Ball celebration of Karl Lagerfeld’s creative genius. She looks marvellous.
Condé Nast CEO, Roger Lynch & partner Cathleen Lynch attended this year’s Met Gala. Her dark blue gown is supremely elegant.
Instagram CEO, Adam Mosseri & partner Monica Mosseri graced the evening with their dignified presence. There is a lot of detailing her her dark elegant attired nicely complemented by the black opera gloves.
Grace Murdoch and her mum, Wendi Deng Murdoch attended the affair in beautiful pastel gowns looking ethereal with mum anchored by that exquisite necklace.
Tony-nominated (win it) Wendell Pierce stepped away from starring on Broadway to attend the evening’s Gala. He was joined by the chic, Erika Woods. Good luck, June 11th Mr. Pierce!
Blackstone Group CEO Stephen Schwarzman was accompanied by the shimmering Christine Schwarzman in a gold one-shouldered gown. Glamourous… mais oui!
Charles Shaffer, Anna Wintour’s son and partner Elizabeth Cordry bringing their warm glamour to the ball.
Entertainment executive, Casey Wasserman & partner Jennifer Chandler brought their warmth and glamour to the ball.
Adrienne E. Adams, speaker of the New York City Council attended the ball in a beautiful single shoulder lace affair. Elegant with a most warm beautiful smile.
Dr. Lisa Airan attended in a beautiful yellow flowing gown, radiating her light. Beautiful earrings.
Model Montana Cox breezed through in a minimalist lean black sheath.
She’s just a Broadway Baby! Yeah, Micaela Diamond is coming through that’s who. Currently, on Broadway in Parade, she wore an exquisite lilac gown to the ball.
Vogue & Teen Vogue director, Lisa Love was chic in vintage coat dress attire. Refine.
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Broadway Tony-nominated actor, Jonathan Groff came through with a touch of theatricality to his suit and looked every inch the winner.
Well, of course, Vogue creative editorial director Mark Guiducci would attend the glamourous ball. The white tie was sublime.
Two-time Emmy-nominated E! presenter and Variety executive, Marc Malkin came through and did not disappoint in his red carpet turn at this year’s Met Gala. From the tie, to jacket to nails, he wore dignified iconic style like a pro.
Norwegian billionaire, Gustav Magnar Witzoe must be the obsession of every latter day Andrew Cunanan, working the 1% sugar daddy circuit. Gustav, of course, is a model… no shit! Darling… does it even matter if it is not art?
Karl was many things beyond eccentric and creative genius of he highest order; he was also the godfather to Hudson Kroenig who along with Choupette has inherited the majority of his vast fortune. Sweet and blissful dreams Karl; thank you for having grace this world with your stellar magic. No not adieu, à la prochaine!
Hand in Hand – Mulgrew Miller Full Album 1993
1. Grew’s Tune
2. For Those Who Do
3. Thinkin’ Out Loud
4. Leilani’s Leap
5. Like The Morning
6. Hand In Hand
7. Return Trip
8. Waltz For Monk
9. Neither Here Nor There
Christian McBride – Bass
Lewis Nash – Drums
Joe Henderson – Tenor Saxophone
Eddie Henderson – Trumpet, Flugelhorn
Mulgrew Miller – Piano
Kenny Garrett – Soprano & Alto Saxophones
Steve Nelson – Vibraphone
This past week, I had the most lucid of dreams; this was decidedly beyond the norm. It was set at the cosy intimate funkiness of the Village Vanguard; this reanimation was, though, set on the astral plane. As in all astral plane-focussed dreams, the basement Jazz club had ridiculously high vaulted ceilings and the ambiance in the place seemed millennia old. Everyone here was of 9 strand DNA heritage and the most refined of souls. I sat at a deuce, alone, nursing a glass of Henny and smoking a decent Cohiba. Onstage the divinely gifted astral plane habitué Mulgrew Miller was alone, playing the most mind-altering Jazz not often heard this side of the dreamtime. I drew on a quickened breath as walking to join me was Merlin; he wore a panama hat and a parrot brooch, both favourites of his and his loose slacks were held in place with suspenders. What was different here, was Merlin looked as he did in the life prior to being reborn in Toronto. In that life, Merlin was born creole (high yellow) in Louisiana and made his way to New York City during the Harlem Renaissance; he was an amateur Jazz musician. He sat, put his arm around me and we kissed; it had been too long since I had felt such quiet ecstasy on kissing a lover most rare. Just like that, I awoke and began flooding my art-filled home with Mulgrew Miller’s Hand in Hand.
The latest red carpet parade of the now Prince & Princess of Wales 3.0, (William & Catherine), Charles & Diana – The second Elizabethan Age’s original Prince and Princess of Wales, Charles & Camilla 2.0 – did not disappoint in its hissing drama. Naturally, the Fleet Street abattoirs did not surprise the sceptical in their quaint sophistry, to paint this gaudy Picasso portrait as though it were a sublime Gainsborough tableau.
As you are well aware, this hissing red carpet tango has been going on for years. Catherine can be seen brushing off William at the top of the stairs at the Royal Albert Hall as they stood with the senior royals for obligatory photo call at the premier of the James Bond film No Time To Die. Also, Catherine on joining the senior royals on the steps, could be seen cutting her eyes at William, with whom she had been earlier rowing on the red carpet. All throughout her seething animus, William kept pursing his lips as he enjoyed getting under Catherine’s skin as he is cockily assured in his relationship with Rose, Countess Rocksavage. William’s pursed lips betray the fact that though it is his wont to be loud and verbally abusive, he could not do so in public. This, of course, gives Catherine an advantage as she can grin, hiss and cuss him out at such times without him verbally assaulting her.
Again, in Boston, Catherine Makes to Hold Hands and Is Rebuffed by William.
Fast forward, post HLM Queen Elizabeth’s death and the now Prince and Princess of Wales, still at war, are in Boston. God only knows why? So lovely it was to see President Biden, meeting him on the Boston waterfront like one does a whore, then the President returned to Washington D. C. where he had been hosting French President Emmanuel Macron. Desperate to squash the truth, William again in the #WaroftheWaleses brushes off Catherine’s attempt at handholding. Now married near a dozen years, this handholding business they never engaged in. William in 2013 had an affair with a banker in the City and thereafter, they did not start handholding. Of course, with Harry and Meghan’s supernova on the royal scene, their handholding and genuine love for each other proved disruptive. Similarly, like a supernova 400 light years away, before you knew what next, the Black American woman was erased from the royal portraits as the #WaroftheWaleses turned outward and were united in cannibalising that “Yank,” that damn Black ‘bully’ American from their midst.
BAFTA Awards 2023 Red Carpet, Catherine Aggressively Replies, “Or What?”
Now fast forward to the recent BAFTA Awards, which rather extensively will be the subject of the next blog. Here’s when the hissing peaked in their usual style of continuing the #WaroftheWaleses. Catherine makes to hold hands and is again rebuffed by William. This, of course, came days after he had spent St. Valentine’s Day with Rose, Countess Rocksavage.
Just listen to that woman with female genitalia in the middle of her face, Camilla Tominey, engaging in more specious revisionism. Though there are none so blind as those who deliberately choose not to see, some of us are neither blind nor given to obsequiousness. Camilla Tominey is a known liar. Catherine tries to hold hands with William, he rebuffs as in Boston, she then immediately hits his bottom after he pulls away and conveniently waves to the little people. Betraying her energy body of 9, her being a warrior soul and one of her personal needs being power, Catherine immediately shot back, “Or What?” whilst grinning her fake-assed face off.
So then, let’s break down what is really going on here! Firstly, William and Catherine would never have gotten dressed together; therefore, on coming down when their car arrived, William would have been livid. Catherine deliberately wore black opera gloves to make a point. All Toffs know that one always wears matching opera gloves. Therefore, Catherine ought to have been wearing a black or smoky grey dress with black opera gloves. Had Catherine elected to wear white gloves with the white Alexander McQueen dress that she wore, she could not have made her point.
That’s right, Catherine was outing Peggalicious! As there is never just one hanger in any closet, Catherine in the #WaroftheWaleses upped her game. If William will not spend St. Valentine’s Day with her, she was going to take the war to the red carpet. Again, do not ever underestimate the resolve of a warrior soul when they choose to do battle; for all warriors, fighting is foreplay. Prince Henry, is also a fifth level mature soul Warrior like Catherine, and SPARE certainly does lay bare his warrior mettle through and through. Catherine and William’s rowing would be like Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt in their rivetingly combustible film, Mr. & Mrs. Smith.
As previously shared on this blog, (Pink Chair I & II) in October, 2021, https://dreampoetica.com/2021/10/24/pink-chair-i-ii/I have been into S&M and all its play. And it was my experience that all males who are into being pegged, also go in for being fisted. That’s right, Catherine was aggressively outing William’s game. Not only is he Peggalicious but he also loves getting good and fisted. For obvious reasons, one never wears long white latex or rubber gloves in fisting. Catherine has to know that she has to go all out, because the day the Prime Minister stands in Parliament and states, “It is with regret that Buckingham Palace announces that TRH Prince and Princess of Wales are to separate, it will be open season on her. Faster than lightning striking the CN Tower, the Fleet Street abattoirs will then turn on Catherine.
In the #WaroftheRoses, Catherine broke with tradition and wore a white dress to highlight the black opera gloves, which were a nod to long, black latex or rubber fisting gloves. Catherine is shrewd and one of the interesting observations that Meghan, Duchess of Sussex made in her Oprah interview, is that Catherine is a good person. By so doing, like equally shrewd Catherine, Meghan who never once mentioned his name, was alluding to what a anti-Black racist boor, William is, which his number 9 second position (mindset) attests and which has been validated in Prince Harry’s phenomenally successful SPARE, which I’ve now thrice read.
If you are going to wear a white dress to an important function, where the Prince of Wales is president of BAFTA, you do not wear black gloves with a white dress. It is always monochromatic from head to toe. Catherine did not give a damn about being royal next to mere Hollywood and the Oscars coming up this month; if she cared, she would have worn her hair up as she did at the premier of the James Bond film, No Time To Die, in September 2021 at the Royal Albert Hall. Of course, along with the opera gloves, weaving some pearls into her beautifully coiffed hair would have carried off the look and made it truly royal. As it is, Catherine came off as nothing more than coalmining fare, playing at being a royal.
12 Years A Fail
Frankly, 12 years on, it is time she changed her armour, starting with her hair; she would be better served with a close-cropped hairdo. A dozen years on, it is too much hair and too much of the damn boring same. In the #WaroftheWaleses, Catherine is literally fighting for her man, for her life and everything that entails. Unlike both Diana, Princess of Wales and Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, Catherine is void charisma and is embarrassingly inarticulate – unlike Meghan, she will fare miserably if William were to serve her with divorce; if that were the case, I rather suspect that she will walk away with the little bastard, Damien. Honest to god, is it any wonder William is off watering Rose’s garden. Some femme au foyer that, talk about 12 years a fail. How in the hell can this woman not cook? And, of course, the Fleet Street abattoirs just laughed it off but they are keeping score and will change colour and pounce on her faster than an octopus its prey!
At the end of the day, Catherine is a woman in deep pain and with all that rowing in public, there has got to be a lot of emotional and mental abuse from both sides behind closed doors. Regardless of anything else, I will always support a woman in an abusive relationship, especially in this dynamic. No matter what, like his father before him, William will not adversely suffer, if he were to dispose of Catherine by way of divorce or god forbid worse; that is the nature of the game. Her escalated ageing can be put down to the fact that Catherine is clearly a serious drinker and also is mightily stressed about the fact that like Diana, Princess of Wales, there are three persons in her marriage. Certainly, the Courtesan Queen will be of no solace to Catherine.
Falling Apart; Clearly Fairy Tales Are Not Real
Just look at Catherine, she stumbles and what proves a fitting metaphor of their relationship, William does not react. He is long over this woman, he just wants her gone from his life. It truly is a sad state of affairs. In the meantime, we await the coronation, which every entertainer and their shadow is shunning thanks to SPARE and their loyalties to the Sussexes. Let’s see if the Courtesan Queen’s grandkids are kited with coronets and tiaras on the day whilst the Sussexes’ son, Archie, on his fourth birthday remains not styled as a prince.
Something has definitely shifted in the #WaroftheWaleses. Since Catherine’s rude brushoff in 2019, William clearly enjoys the upper hand and can care less about her. He knows that the kingdom is aware of heir marital strife; he is also keenly aware that she will never win that PR war when it arrives. Especially so if he ends up with Rose, Countess Rocksavage, Catherine will be discarded to the Fleet Street abattoirs, much as Diana was, where they will truly flay her soul. At least Diana was charming, radiant, beautiful and beloved by most everyone.
Certainly, it will be a smooth transition moving into the role of Duchess of Cornwall. Plus que ça change, plus c’est… mais oui. Honest to god, I swear there is a strap-on imprint on Rose’s gown. Look at how much happier Peggalicious looks – that just-pegged glow is undeniable. Indeed, look at how much more regally Rose oozes the royal mystique. All things aside, the no-chinned ‘model’ scores only a few points less on the all-important toddler scare-ometer than the Courtesan Queen. Clearly not breeding material, House of Windsor sidepieces are therefore not chosen for their beauty.
The latest salvo of the House of Windsor is truly myopic. As Fleet Street gleefully reports, the #TampaxKing in a fit of rage, instigated by the #CourtesanQueen has evicted the Sussexes from Frogmore Cottage. Hooray for that! At 120 rooms, the Earl & Countess of Wessex’s Bagshot Park costs then £90,000 per annum. Similarly, the kinder-lover Yorkist paedophile pays on his 30 room pile, Royal Lodge a whopping £12,000 per annum. Now get this, after having paid back the costs of renovations, and installed a £5,000 copper bathtub, the Sussexes were having to pay £216,000 per annum for the 12 room Frogmore Cottage. What more proof does one need of the House of Windsor being a racist hellhole when the otiose Black wife, the ‘Yank’ has to cough up 2.4 times as much as the Wessexes to the Crown Estate and 18 times as much as the harboured Yorkist paedophile. Let’s hope that the Sussexes rip out that damn copper bathtub and have it shipped to Montecito. Thanks for desperately seeking to score brownie points with the island kingdom’s shitty racist boors but you’ve just saved the Sussexes loads of cheddar. In all of this, you can bet your bottom shilling that the warring Waleses, in particular the pegged & fisted Bourbon bastard, was behind the drive to have the Sussexes evicted. Oh thank you dumb and blinded by racially predatory obsession your gormliness. Good, now that you’ve gotten the Sussexes evicted just Keep Calm et Va Chier!
Puerto Rican Iris Chacon Performing in Venezuela
Get it Iris! So despite the #WaroftheWaleses, life keeps on boogieing right along with Prince Harry’s SPARE performing brilliantly. At this rate, I think for being banished to Ray Mill House, the Courtesan Queen will demand titles for her Parker-Bowles offspring, whilst still nothing for Archie and Lilibet. Seriously, who the fuck are these people? There is a point at which, you cannot expect intelligent people to buy this nonsense about unconscious bias. The royals are part of a racist institution; they know it and they themselves are as well and don’t give a damn that it is fairly obvious to all with eyes to see. Well, they damn sure got rid of the Black woman in their midst; however, does this mean that their volatile marriage will adapt and the #WaroftheWaleses just become another convenient institutional partnership, like Philip and Elizabeth with each taking lovers and having children with other lovers as was the case with recently departed Philip and Elizabeth? Who knows, who truly fucking cares?
Well, if you can’t flip pancakes and can do little more than gurn like a lost, famished fox, from September 2021 to February 2023, you had better be able to shake it like Iris Chacon. No matter how you cut it, sooner or later, task companions or not, there is a very strong likelihood that this marriage which is clearly in its late stages of viability, will likely end in separation, followed by divorce.
Wayne Shorter Quartet, 2012 Paris Salle Pleyel
Wayne Shorter – Saxophones
John Patitucci – Bass
Danilo Perez – Piano
Brian Blade – Drums
Wayne Shorter, 25.8.1933 [Rooster 7.6.4 = 8] <O> 2.3.2023 Sweet and blissful dreams ennobled Shaman. Your memory ever will be a blessing of the most inspired dreams.
Prince Harry, Duke of Sussex on Late Show with Stephen Colbert Promoting SPARE
Whenever I travel to a city, I always stay within close distance to a crystal store. I want to be exposed to their vibration and thereby harmonise with that city’s groove. In November 2018 when in town for the 100th anniversary of Armistice Day and Royal Ballet’s production of La Bayadère, I stayed at a hotel in Russell Square so that I could be in walking distance to the British Museum, Covent Garden. I got to the Astrology Shop in Covent Garden and took my time, trying to find a couple of crystals that I could keep in my pockets at all times. Besides, the best most fragrant sagebrush can be found at the Astrology Shop. The day of the Remembrance Ceremony, I stood just to the right of the Cenotaph and opposite the balcony where eventually Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex stood with the German President’s wife. I wanted to be there because I knew that HLM Queen Elizabeth II, looking at the state of those canker sores on her shins, was not much longer for this world.
Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex Remembrance Ceremony, 2018
Standing there, at times I had to reach into each pant pocket and clutch the crystal therein after the vile hateful remarks of positively everyone about me made of Harry’s wife, Meghan, before she and the rest of the royal party came to those three balconies. There were times when for sending focussed light energy directly to Meghan to protect from the island kingdom’s racially predatory, hateful focus, the crystals actually became warm in each palm. I was exhausted at the end of the ceremony, eventually making my way to the Queen’s Gallery at Buckingham Palace and taking in a beautiful exhibition that celebrated Queen Victoria’s empire building family, not before the most hilarious cab ride.
The beauty of Prince Harry’s book is that it so undisputedly validates what I have expounded all along about the major royal principals, based chiefly on their numerology. Yes, of course, I have also relied on their Michael Overleaves; however, what I have never done is focussed on their astrology, which is often not remotely accurate. The truly leonine person, for example, is not someone born with the Sun in leo but someone with the Moon in Leo, though, that is obviously possible. Though a Leo, my Sagittarian Moon is a more accurate insight to my emotional makeup than anything else. That aside, the numerology, which never lies, is the real measure of any person’s true character.
Princess Eugenie & Jack Brooksbank at Pippa Middleton’s May 2017 wedding
When initially the Telegraph’s royal reporter, Camilla Tominey speciously reported that Meghan had made Catherine cry, I knew after a quick review of the principals’ numerology that it was a lie. Clearly, the church guests rule was specifically intended to ban Meghan from attending the church portion of the Middleton-Matthews wedding. If Meghan were seen attending the church service then both Catherine and Pippa would readily have been eclipsed. This was an early example of specious and wholly arbitrary rules employed to keep the Yank, the Black Yank, out of the picture.
As Prince Harry, King of Hearts, has poignantly documented in SPARE, the truth, his and Meghan’s had to be revealed to show the extent to which the Waleses’ monstrosity was being protected by the Fleet Street abattoirs. How could these Britons realistically think that they could dismiss a ‘Yank’ in their midst and it not get out. It is not the age of steamships and telegrams. Everything is out there. What the senior royals and their Fleet Street abattoir hacks did not envision, was Henry & Meghan walking.
Obviously, the book is hands down a winner! Here are my takeaways. As to why Harry was so self-revelatory; this has always been one big high stakes PR game. In revealing chatter about his todger and drug use, he readily squashed any potential of the tabloids coming out and releasing this to eclipse his book and, as it were, shame Prince Harry. The most hysterical thing for me was when I was called by a friend and asked if that was a lucid dream that Harry was having when staying at Courtney Cox’s place. That provided a good laugh as I assured him that he was talking about the effects of doing drugs at the party but since nothing less than 9.5 inches ever goes in my mouth and I’ve never done drugs, it had to have been about a drug trip but what drugs I hadn’t a clue. Certainly, dreams don’t go there as in that experience that Harry described.
Young Virgin Auto-Sodomized by the Horns of Her Own ChastityOil on Canvas 1954 Salvador Ali
Sometimes, what passes for reality is truly as though a bad drug experience. Though I lived at 380 Assiniboine Avenue’s Bessborough apartments in Winnipeg, I spent evenings from time to time at Arjun’s tiny apartment on Broadway Avenue. One afternoon, in the midst of winter as I walked home in shoes and socks that were soaked with loud-smelling piss, he had pulled up, and offered me a ride; it’s too cold to be on foot, he negotiated with the warmest smile that matched his large, light brown eyes. He truly was a godsend. I got in hardly able to walk and he thought that I had injured myself; my shoes and socks were frozen to my feet. Someone, though, I had a pretty good suspicion who it was, pissed into my locker with the grated wire door and into my socks and shoes. This only ever occurred when there were snow squalls and the temperatures well below -30°C with the wind chill. He drove a cab for extra cash as he struggled post divorce. Arjun was horrified when he saw my swollen, frozen feet with socks and shoes hard to remove. He made a mean curry chicken and after he would give me a beautiful massage after having tied me off and performed the most maddeningly slow, warm-oiled manual massage to climax whilst we sat opposite each other, naked on dining room chairs. Most of all, Arjun taught me numerology; he felt it was necessary as he discovered that I had master number 11. I always recalled him saying that my little accidents at the Royal Winnipeg Ballet school whenever it heavily snowed was like a bad dream. Faithfully, as promised, he was always there waiting for me outside when it snowed and was bitterly cold as I emerged in piss-soaked socks and shoes. The moment that I saw Princess Michael of Kent in that blackamoor brooch, I became a staunch supporter of Meghan’s. I knew what harrowing put-through it was to be a lone Black, entering into what is a traditionally all-White institution, an institution which after having amassed fantastic wealth from the enslavement of Black Africans could not be expected to be anything but racially hostile to Blacks, which has been most focussed in William and his wife, Catherine.
Standing there at the Cenotaph in November, 2018, and seeing HM The Queen for the last time, I was keenly reminded of how important it was to support Meghan. First hand, from all the people around me, who said the most vile hateful things, all I could do was visualise. Holding on to those crystals, I sent her light energy from the crystals, to enlighten and protect her from the hateful maelstrom being directed her way. As the ceremony endured, I thought of that energy being used to replenish the bile being projected onto her which I then drew away and had the plane trees on either side of me absorb, send to their roots to have it eaten, cleansed and returned from the warm earth, travelling to me via the plane trees’ crowns and the cycle perpetuated. There was no way that Meghan would not have been the focussed campaign of rejection and racial animus from William and Catherine for both being possessed of 9 in their numerology.
Too, it was good to have gotten a thorough appreciation of warrior soul, Prince Harry’s time in the combat zone. He was as soldier who had performed in the war theatre and had survived. Harry needed to have devoted the second of three parts of his inspiring memoir to his military service as a way to present himself to his newly adopted homeland, America.
Above all else, Americans respect veterans. This is such a poignant photograph of soldier Harry. He has been on a mission to avenge his mother, Diana, Princess of Wales’ murder and nothing and no one will deter him on his quest. All the successes of the Sussexes are directly a result of Diana, Princess of Wales being there in their corner.
This book is not just about the structural racism of the House of Windsor and British society as a result of its past as colonisers and enslaving imperialists, it unveils a rather telling aspect of post colonialism. In all my seven decades, I know of no one Black: rich, middle class, creative or otherwise who has ever once spoken of a desire to go on an African safari, have been or know of such things. Prince Harry accounts of his retreats to Botswana’s Okavango delta speak volumes. Here is a realm of human experience, which just a few thousand miles away, tens of millions of Blacks are held captive in poverty, the vestiges of post-Apartheid colonial South Africa, which still stridently exists – political window dressing notwithstanding, and about this they know positively nothing. Seeing this aspect of human civilisation through Prince Harry’s eyes, was deeply inspiring but profoundly devastating. The very essence of Africa, one giant getaway for predominantly Whites to enjoy unencumbered by the misery of Black Africans, Blacks elsewhere about which they have no input, was plainly revealed in Prince Harry’s journeys. The most devastating part which made me break down and cry was listening to Prince William, he of the prejudiced 9 mindset, insisting that Africa was his not Harry’s; A whole fucking continent, the homeland of a diverse, culturally rich people the world over of Black African descent, being spoken of as though Africa were the exclusive property of a blasted White male who could not be anymore out of touch with the 21st century than if he were teleported back in time to Han Dynasty China. Of course, what William was referring to, was the rich animal kingdoms in Africa which exists nowhere else; he couldn’t in the least have given a shit about the dredged scourge that is Black Africans’ lives and their culture.
Of course, in that moment, I was reminded of the vast disconnected that exists between Blacks, the diabolical lengths we go to, to deny our Blackness and our connectedness to other Blacks. Knowing that he was going to die, Merlin wrote letters to many of his professional associates, most in the States. As they shared the same eponymous agency, Joyce Ketay, which later became part of the Gersch Agency, Merlin wrote to actor, Joe Morton whom he had directed in plays and who starred in in the film, Brother From Another Planet. They always got on famously. On receiving the mail in November, 1989, Joe called up from L. A. and said that he would be coming up to see Merlin. It was the most noble gesture. Joe flew into town and my sister and I met him at Toronto’s Pearson International Airport and the evening was both healing and bucolic. I ordered Chinese takeout and went around to Parliament Street to collect the food with Joe and filled him in on how long Merlin had been ill; we got in and my lover who had not been able to hold down a meal in several days, joined in and picked at the food and did not even throw up. As this was the age, long before cell phones’ ubiquity, Joe used our phone to call his wife in L. A. and check in. Some time later, we were having refreshments, they coffee – I can’t abide the stuff and I tea. At some point, Merlin had misjudged his strength and the distance to the coffee table piled high with books, one of which was Luigi Serafini’s magical masterpiece, Codex Seraphinianus. From my perspective across the room all the spilled coffee had not been sopped up and not wanting it to damage the books, I got up and used my napkin to clean up the rest of the spilled fare. Almost violently, Joe snatched his Sprint phone card, from atop one of the large coffee table books, creating an awkward millisecond of social aggression. This is the sort of thing that if Merlin were not ill and he were not staying in our house, I’d have walked Joe to the door and violently slam it on him. After he got up in the early hours, my sister came by and drove him out to the airport where a very large moon was close to the horizon. When I got back to the house, Merlin apologised and said that it was most devastating because he realised that if he were Black rather than Jewish, Joe would not have bothered to fly into town and visit him. It was one of the many times that Merlin, an ardent student of Black literature, who relished just about every Black author there was, touched on the subject of Black on Black racism. I always remember him saying, there is no such thing as being half Jewish, mixed Jewish. You are a Jew! Period! Yet the vogue has been for so many Blacks, exhibiting the most embarrassing self-loathing, claiming not to be Black. As Merlin once joked, well if you have a Black parent how can you not be Black, do these people think anyone mistakes them for Chinese? Said Merlin, what is a Jew with a single Jewish parent referred to as, a Goyish, a mixed Goy. Trust Merlin to always see the humour in everything; however, this need to deny one’s Blackness, is precisely why Joe never procreated with a Black woman. How the hell do you go to someone’s house and consider them a damn thief in their own house? I’d be rather surprised if with his success, Joe has ever been on a safari to Botswana. Merlin passed exactly a week later.
Two men could not have been more different. Indeed, it is a good thing that William is the shit-disturbing, stubborn, pugnacious, bully that he is. He truly represents the collective psyche of White Britain, having to face up to its past as colonisers, enslavers and just blood-thirsty savages. That history has given rise to royal heirs who are archly anti-Black in their perspective and conversely pro-Jewish in their preferences. There is nothing wrong in their preference but you cannot be so daft as to put out there your embarrassing perceptions. Furthermore, it does one’s credibility little to no good when a disproportionate number of the pundits who are savagely attacking Meghan and Harry are Jewish. Recently, even Judge Judy has gotten on the bandwagon of preying on the Sussexes. One of the things that all these persons are keen to do, which Merlin first pointed out to me in the early days of our relations in 1980s New York City, is that when being racially predatory towards Blacks, Jews are ever mindful never to bring race into their discussions and open animus towards Blacks. As he then pointed out, once challenged, one can then scream to the rafters that one is being anti-Semitic. One of the errors of all such persons as they savagely prey on Meghan and being openly racist, is not one of them so much as said boo fuck-all when George Floyd was savagely murdered. It was no business of theirs; of course, in having said nothing by way of protesting, one was clearly supporting such hideous racially predatory savagery. Then along comes Meghan et voilà, Methenny and others are barking mad with rage against that Black bitch Meghan whom they hate; of course, as Merlin long ago pointed out and has been validated, they never once mention Meghan’s Blackness.
Carefully chosen words from a man who could not be more disinterested in Black civilisation than if he were a Klansman. Indeed, there were times on that tour where they were supposed to be representing HLM Queen Elizabeth II where their relationships disrepair could not have been more obvious. Of course, Catherine just had to be photographed standing around with a drink in hand… drunk and debauched indeed.
Of course, we finally got validation of Catherine’s energy body of 9 being revealed as the bully behind who made whom cry. Not only was she a rude, dismissive, confrontational 9 energy-bodied boor, Catherine had to go one step forward and lay down the law as to who was boss, she wore a white dress to Meghan’s wedding – so, too, did Camilla to Diana’s wedding in July, 1981. The bitch wore white, that’s how you know who made who cry. All the incidents reported by Prince Harry in SPARE are evidence of both Meghan and Harry being racially harassed and racially preyed on in the workplace. One of the signatures of 11 master number is that it gives one a keen intellect; one is ill-inclined to gladly suffer fools. Who is Catherine to a self-made accomplished actor? Catherine is a blithering idiot who can do not more than gurn like a mad loon because finally, you cannot expect a fucking mad loon to behave like a self-possessed, strong woman.
It may be a family; however, it is also a workplace and it is fairly obvious that Meghan was the target of a campaign that involved mental and emotional abuse, which was orchestrated by the Waleses and in concert with Courtesan Queen Camilla as it suited her to be an ugly duchess who just could not resist going there as she so relished with Harry’s mother and Meghan’s mother-in-law, Diana, Princess of Wales.
Prince William Goes Off Displaying Short Fused Nature
What I am thoroughly convinced of, by Meghan’s body language when they emerged at the Cambridge Gates at Windsor Castle in September 2022, is that she exhibited signs that not only was she regularly yelled at and abused but either or both, Catherine or William; however, either or both may well have physically assaulted Meghan whilst she lived at Nott Cott. How could they live at Nott Cott when in the palace proper was that vile racist bully, Princess Michael of Kent.
“If You Don’t Mind, Take Your Finger Out of My Face.” Meghan, Duchess of Sussex to HRH Prince William, Prince of Wales.
What Meghan was making perfectly clear, William is milquetoast and furthermore, she did not want his smelly, bussy-poking finger anywhere near her goddamn face. There is no mistaking who had the upper hand in that power dynamic, William and Catherine’s vile machinations notwithstanding.
As much as we know that Prince William loves getting pegged, part of that psychosexual dynamic of being bottomed, is almost always being violently impatient, rude and bullying. This is a scene with which Prince William would be intimately familiar. For one thing, his fourth number of 5 guarantees being debauched and it always means sexual infamy – scandal or multiple scandals that are sexual beyond the norm will manifest and more importantly, make their way into the culture, becoming common knowledge. It is not about Prince William being Gay or Bisexual, it is simply a psychosexual dynamic which at its core is sadomasochistic. William’s desire to be pegged, bottomed and owned, comes as a relief from the domineering, bullying almost brutalising aspects of his personality when he is not sexually focussed. Again, William is moving centred so more than most, he ever would need a sexual outlet. Fourth number of 5, rules excess, infamy.
Prince Harry Bird Watching with Archie & Meghan
There is magic all around, you just have to be accurately focussed to capture those moments, which are ever present. These moments of magic, like the incident related in SPARE of the crash of the Queen Elizabeth Christmas tree ornament, are moments which reinforce that Diana, Princess of Wales is not far off. Indeed, loved ones with whom one remains bonded, will never lose being focussed on us here and now. As there are another 400 pages of this memoir, SPARE, yet to be released, I fully expect more of the Waleses, Charles and Camilla’s ugliness to be further revealed. Beautifully written, this is a most raw, honest and scathingly focussed memoir. Godspeed Henry, Meghan, Archie & Lilibet your work is ably fortified by Diana’s guidance and protection. God save a most noble Prince Harry, King of Hearts.
A Love Supreme. John Coltrane. 1965. Full Album
John Coltrane – Soprano & Tenor Saxophone
Jimmy Garrison – Double Bass
McCoy Tyner – Piano
Elvin Jones – Drums
This handsome gem played nonstop as I pored through SPARE, getting to know Henry’s raw, inspiring, beautiful soul. John Coltrane’s creative genius certainly got me through some rough patches in the book, especially, his early trauma at the violent murder of his mother, Diana, Princess of Wales. I cannot state enough, but whenever I have dreamt of Henry he has always been relaxed, unpretentious and barefooted, which really made me sit up and take notice during the Netflix & Archewell Productions, co-production of Harry and Meghan, the docuseries. Above all else, special mention must be made of J. R. Moehringer, SPARE’s masterful ghost-writer; he did one hell of a job.
Dreams are the poetic expression of the soul. 