What Started It All…

Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex at the Grenfell community kitchen

The morning after the June, 2017 Grenfell Tower inferno, which left the skies above Chelsea where I visited aglow, The Queen rolled up and paid the site, its devastated and displaced occupants a visit. As ever, she was fragile, gracious and commanded one’s attention and respect. She attended with Prince William as their visit was covered uninterrupted on Live local TV.

HM Queen Elizabeth II & HRH Prince William, The Duke of Cambridge

At the time, I thought it so odd that they came and commiserated, or at least appeared to have, then they were off. It was a, “so sorry for your plight now made worse with this added burden. Oh well, I guess I must be off now, carry on then!” I felt compelled to make a donation, as clearly there was no such largesse coming from the Windsor gang.

Doria and The Duke & Duchess of Sussex

The following year just shy of three months after they glorious Spring wedding, the Duke & Duchess of Sussex, accompanied by Doria arrived for a special gathering. It was such a glowing, heartwarming scene as an obviously proud, Prince Harry, looked on as his wife, Meghan, attended the book launch of Together Our Community Cookbook, for which she had written the foreword.

Together. Our Community Cookbook

Within a year of her engagement and marriage, Meghan, the American with can-do spirit, had produced a gift for the people of the devastated Grenfell Tower community, one that would be all about giving back and making their struggle less arduous. This single act was so revolutionary; Meghan with her cookbook had demonstrated the true meaning of charity. She showed up with what mattered most, something practical and useful that could be of true assistance to the community. It was obvious at the book launch on September 17, 2018 that the newly minted Duchess of Sussex was beloved by the common folk of the Grenfell community.

Royal Tour of The Duke & Duchess of Sussex, 2018

A month later, October 2018, Harry and Meghan were off on their inaugural royal tour in the southern hemisphere. The following month, November the Firm, the institution and the royals who were threatened by Meghan and what she represented, went to work. So along came Camilla Tominey of the Telegraph starting the lynching and character assassination of Meghan with the lie that “Meghan made Catherine cry.”

Marie-Christine racially attacks Meghan using blackamoor brooch, December 2017

Where was Camilla Tominey, in December 2017, the year prior, declaring that Marie-Christine, “Princess Michael of Kent made Meghan cry.” Of course, she hadn’t and did it really matter? Tough, if the Yank couldn’t take a joke, right? They threw much at Meghan behind the scenes and Meghan adapted, proving herself Tungsten and worth it.

The Duke & Duchess of Sussex The Mountbatten Music Festival, March 2020

Meghan has master number 11 and for all of us, we are phoenix-like; 11 is an immensely transformative number and it is also about mastery… self-mastery. We are empowered by the colour of red, we are empowered, focussed, strategic and dominant when thusly enrobed. Here, Meghan is being a phoenix, throwing off the mantle of royal drama, politics – family, jealousy, the Firm, the press intrusion. In the proceeding photograph, Meghan wore that stunning red dress to the Mountbatten Music Festival; it was purely strategic.

Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex on Oprah Interview, March 2021

Here, in interview with the incomparable Oprah Winfrey, Meghan is being most strategic in her choice of clothing. She wears a black Giorgio Armani lotus dress. Ever self-aware, Meghan chose this dress and its colour because she was being deadly focussed and laying down the law in a very intensely vicious fight with the royals beyond her late Majesty, The Queen. She exposed the royals’ racism, vulnerably spoke of her suicidal ideation thanks to the acute racial animus that she experienced within the institution, the family and the media. To make her point, she chose that black Giorgio Armani because the dress bore a lotus flower; the most exquisitely beautiful flower which can only bloom for being mired in a swamp… utter filth – the royals, the institution, the royal rota and British media at large.

Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex in Nigeria, May, 2024

Meghan, summer of 2024, our Queen’s got something going on… stuff is cooking… there is that red again. Two marvellous tours in both Nigeria and Columbia but that red dress was putting us on notice… do standby…

POLO Netflix Docuseries, The Duke & Duchess of Sussex executive producers, December, 2024

Coming on strong, here were Harry & Meghan, The Duke and Duchess of Sussex, executive producers for the most exciting sporting docuseries on Netflix… on any of the streamers. From Louis Devaleix’s deliciously high octane vituperativeness, tempered by his tender love for his beautiful wife, and his mother-in-law who brings out the much-loved son in him. Poroto Cambiaso and Timmy Dutta brought the youth appeal.

Louis Devaleix, Adolfo & Poroto Cambiaso, Tim Dutta, Harry & Meghan, Nacho, Delfina Figueras H & M

Too, there is the arc of father son bond of Adolfo & Poroto Cambiaso with Poroto displacing his father at the top of Argentine Polo. The beautifully shot and moving docuseries is completed by Harry & Meghan with their trusted companions Nacho & Delfina Figueras pulling it all together in a commanding and winning project for powerhouse streamer, Netflix.

Meghan 2025… Something’s Cooking!

After the seventh wave’s retreat, a horizon beyond hung shrouded in mystery. What is about to come our way, we wondered, as Meghan playfully teased us.

Meghan The Duchess of Sussex on Instagram

Goodness me, not only was Meghan returned to Instagram, but with phoenix-like heroism, she proved that mighty seventh wave that swept us all away, yet again.

Let’s Go! With Love, Meghan Netflix

Tabarnak de frigging Christ, then along comes this most soul-intoxicating aperitif, further pulling us under. We are fully submerged in Meghan’s winning magic. Netflix knows that matters not what the baying detractors say, filled with lies and nonsense, doing #Peggalicious and the little grovelling bastard’s bidding, Meghan is not just the most feared woman on the planet. Netflix knows that Meghan is the most powerful woman on the planet… not just Black woman on the planet.

The Maddening Dissonance of Trolls, Royal Experts, Meghan & Harry Detractors

So let them sit there, cackling, baying and frothing at the mouth, perpetually lying and wishing ill, from Lady Battyface Camp-Balls, to gap-toothed Lady Tittydown, or the pasty XXXL Irish bully with an arse as wide as the fucking Panama Canal, to that disproportionate gaggle of genocide-deniers who know that every lie they tell, will be readily believed. How does it even matter? This also includes the barrel-hipped nez brun who’s on the outs with #Peggalicious’s *BAC posse; he who has to date driven two persons to suicide. Why even bother paying it any mind? Neither they nor their noise is any business of Meghan’s; they do not matter!

With Love, Meghan. Netflix

And there it is, the strategy of Meghan’s self-mastery. She is back and not just with a revamped version of The Tig. This time, she has gone one better, she is got a cooking lifestyle brand on Netflix with American Riviera Orchard kitchenware, dinnerware on offer. That is the greatest master stroke. With the aptly titled lifestyle series on Netflix, Meghan is reminding the royals what it was all about. She was removed from their midst because in having spearheaded and produced the Together cookbook, she showed up the Firm, the Royals and the Media for what lazy, ne’er-do-wells the royals truly are. Imagine that, in under a year, Meghan breezes into the institution and shows them by her actions what true charity looks like. She met without fanfare with the affected, displaced, untouchable Grenfell community, gave them a renewed sense of community and in the process, created a vehicle, the Together Our Community Cookbook, which to this day spectacularly fundraises for the ravaged community.

Pancake flipped by Catherine, The Princess of Wales – Looks more like Chittlins

Go on Meghan, prove to the world, across all time, that service truly is universal. It isn’t just about showing up in a pretty frock, grinning like a semi-feral gibbon en chaleur; it’s about doing the leg work, uplifting and inspiring others. It is not about showing up gurning like a drunken loon to flip a skillet that’s as flat as #Mumblelina’s arse, talking crap about flipping pancakes. Good lord, just look at Eliza Doolittle, drunk to the gills without so much as a fuck-all clue. The poor loon, no longer attending state banquets because as is the norm for separated royals, one can no longer wear a tiara. Then, too, there was the lack of a signature on the wreath left by William at the Cenotaph at Remembrance Sunday ceremony, November, 2024.

Meghan… The World’s most powerful woman

Meghan’s arrival on the scene proved disruptive. For that, the royals have unleashed a relentless campaign of character assassination, disinformation, enlisting all manner of readily bought detractors who troll for the prospect of proximity to the royals. These agents have multiple lines of attack, one being that the duchess was never pregnant and there are no offspring of Harry’s born to Meghan. Further, they try and eviscerate her Blackness from royal history by attempting to fracture the Sussexes’ relationship. They are forever implying that the couple are separated and living apart. Furthermore, they are ever implying that Harry is sick of being in America and desperate to return to the royal fold. Naturally, as everything is readily blamed on Meghan, they suggested that the Netflix deal has runs its course and as the Sussexes are running out of money, Harry will be returning to England but preferably without Meghan.

Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex & Tyler Perry

What are these desperate fabulists on about? Princess Lilibet’s godfather is a billionaire, which means that there is zero likelihood of Meghan and Harry going broke. Furthermore, with a billionaire godfather, there is positively no way that Harry & Meghan are leaving their bucolic California dream; more importantly, there is no need for the Sussex family to relocate to England. They have been racially preyed on, their lives threatened and police protection pulled.

The Sussexes Happy Holidays, 2024: Harry, Lilibet, Meghan, Archie & adored familiars

Master strategists, Meghan and Harry have been guided to their point of power. With Love, Meghan is about to show the world precisely why Meghan and Harry were sent packing. In a few short months, with Together Our Community Cookbook, Meghan exposed the fraudulent operations of the Firm which masquerade its staged appearances and passing them off as acts of charity. In essence, the royals do not do sweet fuck all. So Meghan’s character was attacked and made out to be a bully and wanting to do things as never before they had been done. Of course C4’s Dispatches: The King, The Prince & Their Secret Millions serves to further expose the extent of the fraudulence on the part of the royals and the great lengths to which they go to maintain and protect their unscrupulous swindle. The investigation was undertaken by C4’s Dispatches program in conjunction with The Times and Daily Mirror newspapers. Between the Together cookbook & Netflix’s With Love, Meghan, Charles & William have been further exposed for the venal, racist, money-grubbing boors that they are. Indeed, karma is like that.

Phoenix Mandala for John Hirsch by Merlin, 1979

Recently, when having my burgeoning art collection appraised, I happened on this glorious gem, created by Merlin forty-five years ago in 1979. After having been mentored by him, and directed shows at The Stratford Festival Theatre, where John Hirsch was artistic director, Merlin created the mandala for his mentor. John and his artist lover, Jean-Emile Sanscartier, lived at 187 Hudson Drive in Toronto’s tony Moore Park neighbourhood. Both Merlin & John were sick with full-blown AIDS, though, John had taken ill after Merlin. John’s last birthday, his 59th, proved quite the send-off. Everyone from the Hungarian Jewish mafia as John lovingly called his friends and colleagues was there, including Merlin & I – Merlin at that point was birdlike and frail even more so than John. Barbara & Murray Frum were there and many in the film world had also flown in from Los Angeles. It was a very grey, drizzly spring evening, for his May 1, birthday celebration. There were lots of tears, never displayed before John.

John Hirsch

Here was a man who had been spirited out of Hungary by train as every other relative in every possible direction had continued on to concentration camps and death. Though for being Black, I was made to feel at times as though the help, no one there knew, save Merlin who thought it best never to advertise the fact, that I was of Sephardic heritage to their Ashkenazy blood. Barrick Gold CEO Peter Munk had been earlier before our arrival and it had been Peter’s father, Louis who had spirited John Hirsch and other young kids by train to eventually settle in Canada. John felt especially guilty, as he confided in Merlin towards the end, in not having carried on the bloodline; of course, today it would have been possible where not so when he lived. It was overwhelming seeing this mandala after all those years tucked away. I lost a few tears but as John would have it, I began playing his ‘Ella’ the music of Ella Fitzgerald because let’s face it, we are – all of us, men-loving-men, drag queens who readily howl in tune when no one’s watching, be it Edith Piaf, Madonna, Céline Dion, Diana Ross, Aretha Franklin, Barbra Streisand, Sarah Vaughan and most of all John’s favourite, Ella!

Stratford Festival Theatre – Main Stage

In the dead of the night, on August 1, 1989, John Hirsch died at Toronto’s Mount Sinai Hospital. The next day, my 29th birthday, Merlin insisted that I go to work at the greenhouse. He wanted to be alone and privately mourn his mentor, John. Calling him at noon as the most massive thunderstorm drenched the city, we both cried silently, mostly drowned out by the rain and thunder. Excusing myself from work early, I hurried home and together we hugged and cried as John was gone, which inevitably meant that Merlin would be leaving in due course. We listened to the recording, Vladimir Horowitz At Home, then bravely headed to celebrate my birthday at a lovely restaurant in Yorkville. Merlin died three months later, on his mother’s 75th birthday.

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Hirsch, John 1/5/30, Soifok, Hungary<O>1/8/89 Toronto

Michael: John was a fifth level mature warrior in passion mode, with a goal of dominance, a pragmatist in the moving part of intellectual centre.  

This fragment had a Mars/Saturn body type. 

John’s primary chief feature was arrogance with a strong secondary of impatience.  

This fragment has a warrior essence twin, who is alive, and they may choose to meet when the fragment who was John reincarnates, during the first two decades of the new millennium.  

In fact, he may choose to be born to his essence twin who is now a 16-year-old school girl but who would probably be closer to 26 years when the fragment who was John decides to reincarnate.  She is Israeli, living in the city of Jerusalem.  

John was second-cast in his cadence and his cadence is fourth in the greater cadence.  He is a member of entity two – making him entity mates with George Hawken and Jesse Hawken – cadre four, greater cadre 7, pod/node 414; he has known both the fragment Arvin and the fragment who was Merlin in many prior lives.

He and Merlin are, in fact, old comrades-at-arms, which is the closest non-essence bond of all.  

He has an artisan task companion, who is the fragment Jean-Emile Sanscartier, his lover in the immediate past life.  Unfortunately, Jean-Emile’s chief feature stood in the way of their life task and it will likely be completed in a future life together.  

This is an artisan-cast warrior with strong scholar energy in his casting.  There is also a great deal of drama here and in the past, this has been put to good use on the stage, both in classical Greece and in fairly contemporary times in England.  

A recent pivotal life for this warrior fragment was in the late nineteenth century, in 1878, when as a Zulu Warrior/shaman; he fought alongside Cetewayo, against the British and learned the agonising power of defeat, when they lost their struggle in following years and lived to see their homeland annexed.  

He also learned, in this very recent life, the power of the dance in uniting the tribe and this lesson aided him greatly in his immediate past life. (1998)

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Ella Fitzgerald in Concert in Sweden, 1963

Ella Fitzgerald – Vocals

Don Abney & Oscar Peterson – Piano

Ray Brown – Bass

Jo Jones – Drums

Herb Ellis – Guitar

Roy Eldridge – Trumpet

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*BAC – backward-pussied, ass-eating, cocksuckers of which #Peggalicious’s posse includes the foxy but straight-acting, Christian type, The Duke of Buckingham & Norfolk, Jaysun Nuffnuff – the chinless hillbilly fabulist, Jasmine, the aggressive bottom retriever, Simi, the shit-obsessed encased pet fly. There are others, of course, but they all have this much in common – they favour beards, moustaches and are passionately obsessed with dining out en derrière.

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You are to Jazz what wings are to an ostrich; what the fuck do eagles care that queer, unaware ostriches have wings?

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©2013-2025 Arvin da Brgha. All Rights Reserved.

Hello, My Darling!

Triptych August 1972

Oil and sand on three canvases

©1972 Francis Bacon

My five-day trip to the most glorious jewel, London, was bittersweet. I got a call from Vanessa saying that Clive’s cancer had proven stage four with little time left him. There was but one choice, nothing to do but hurry off the phone, book a flight tout de suite to London. Back in late October 1982, after having met Merlin, my friend Clive, studying in the city, I set up on a blind date with Vanessa. She broke off the date at the last minute to rush home to Bermuda and attend her grandmother’s funeral. Undaunted, on her return, I insisted that they get together. By this time, Merlin was returned to New York and holding up at the actor, Patricia Neal’s UWS airy apartment. Merlin had met Clive and Vanessa separately and thought to have them to dinner; naturally, he cooked his favourite dish, chicken paprikash, which he had been taught by Stratford Festival Theatre’s artistic director, John Hirsch.

Manhattan rooftop water tanks

As we dined, with the shadows of water towers beyond the large living room windows, it was fairly obvious that my attempt at matchmaking had proven successful. From time to time, Merlin winked at me and squeezed my knee beneath the table as Clive and Vanessa on their first date had handsomely struck it off. As the blind date was going so well, Merlin suggested that they were welcome to stay and continue visiting whilst we headed off down to midtown Manhattan to take in the midnight showing of Gandhi at the Ziegfeld cinema. Merlin suggested that they could leave the apartment’s keys with the concierge and we would collect them on our return; it was obvious that they were getting along well and needed more time together, minus us as well. Clive and Vanessa laughed a lot and it was clear that they were smitten with each other.

Portrait of Isabel Rawsthorne

Oil on Canvas

©1966 Francis Bacon

Provenance: Tate Britain

Pushing five in the morning, we returned and thought it odd that the suite’s keys had not been turned in. We got off the elevator and on making our way down to the hall, there was the familiar shower of both persons laughing and giggling. Merlin knocked, not loudly, and we were greeted at the door by the smitten couple, each with cake frosting on their nose. They had been up talking and decided that, as it was well past midnight and therefore her birthday, they would bake a cake! Lots of laughter and warmth, whilst the cake set, Merlin decided to make a hearty breakfast of pancakes with Canadian maple syrup! Since that day, Vanessa and Clive have never been separated once; they even slipped into Toronto to visit me a couple of weeks after Merlin’s passing.

The bust of a man

Pen and Ink

c. 1545

Baccio Bandinelli

Hopped off the Piccadilly line, I crossed Green Park, on day one, to alight at The King’s Gallery, Buckingham Palace. The red-interiored salons were familiar, warm and grounding. I was bothered by the fact that the exhibition of Renaissance Drawings among which were works by unsurpassed genius, Leonardo da Vinci, was masterfully curated and hung. Each piece was expertly placed such that you could never evade the glare of intrusive lighting and the works of art hung on the opposite wall. I laughed aloud to a couple of women staffers, then eventually on making to the next salon, a lone silver-haired beauty engaged me. She wanted to know where I was from; naturally, my Canadian accent as articulated with the women registered with her. She lived, it turned out in Mississauga as her husband had worked at the corporate headquarters of the elegantly designed Mies van der Rohe TD Bank (Toronto Dominion Bank) for a couple of decades. She insisted that I make the trek to St. George’s Chapel, Windsor Castle before leaving; I assured her that the journey was foremost in my plans, having shared that there were 4 governors-general in my extended family to date. She was a gracious human of whom I dreamt two nights later and her aura unsurprisingly was most pronounced.

Reclining Figure

Plaster and string

1951 Henry Moore

Henry Moore & Francis Bacon, Tate Britain

From the King’s Gallery, I briskly made my way to Victoria Station, alighting at Pimlico where after being moved by Chris Ofili’s tribute to the Grenfell Tower tragedy, I scuffed at the Turner Prize fare, which would have been more convincing if there were also homeless persons encamped. The Francis Bacon & Henry Moore exhibition was soul-stirring. By now my feet were beginning to seriously ache as I had forgotten to pack walking shoes. Stepping into the unseasonably crisp sunny air, I hopped aboard the Uber boat and swiftly cruised down the river Thames to the Tate Modern. I was not especially inspired for having visited and for the first time, after so many visits, successfully strode across the millennium bridge where I ended up at St. Paul’s Cathedral. As always, I paid homage to Henry Moore’s plaque. From there, I returned to my hotel in Russell Square. My feet were blistered and ridiculously ached.

Moore, Henry 30/7/1898<O>31/8/1986

Michael: This fragment was a first-level old artisan – third life thereat.  Henry was in observation mode with a goal of dominance.  A realist, he was in the moving part of intellectual centre. 

Henry’s body type was Saturn/Venus. 

Henry’s primary chief feature was stubbornness and the secondary of arrogance. 

The fragment Henry is fourth-cast in the second cadence; he is a member of greater cadence one.  Henry’s entity is six, cadre one, greater cadre 7, pod 414 – he is an entity mate. 

Henry’s essence twin is an artisan and the task companion a warrior. 

Henry’s three primary needs were: expression, freedom and security. 

There are 8 past-life associations with Arvin and 6 with Merlin.  ­­­­­­­­­­­­­ ______________________________________________

Though I had about 1.5 hours to showtime, in light of the election results in America and because I simply cannot bring myself to make compromises when it comes to Jazz, I chose not to attend the oppressive brutalism of the Southbank Centre and endure Jamie Cullum apeing Black culture. Fuck that! Besides, I realised on arriving at the hotel that the ticket was for a standing room spot; not with with blistered feet was I going to time-waste. When Whites said fuck you, we are not voting for a Black woman, all bets are off that I’ve got time to suffer stubborn racially predatory boors. Whites were enticed by the spectre of Trump’s Bible, which omits amendments 11 through 17, most importantly, the 13th amendment which promises mass incarceration if not enslavement for American Blacks. Thus, I spent a couple of hours talking to Vanessa, Clive and my spouse whilst icing my sorely battered feet.

Fortnum & Mason, Piccadilly

Rested and with lots of buzz from London’s vibe, I decided at 2215 to head to Leicester Square. Got off the tube into the thick of the Friday night throngs, making my way past the Hippodrome Casino. Outside beneath the marquee was a group of statuesque, beautiful Black women in their mid to late twenties, walking past, I said to the tallest with her back to the street, “You’ve the most beautiful hair!” “Oh thank you!” She had the largest afro of the group and wore the most gorgeous, large silver hoop earrings. As I gingerly walked along, they could be heard howling and remarking at the fact that in the middle of the chill late evening air, I was fanning myself – thanks in part to the side effects of one of the medications which regulates my health well into my seventh decade. I then slipped into the Knatchbulls’ formerly owned Curzon cinema in hopes of seeing Gladiator II; however, it was sold out and I would not likely be able to see it until after midnight. Next stop, the Vue cinemas to attempt seeing Wicked; still no luck. Never mind. I then gingerly ambled to Piccadilly Circus and enjoyed the groovy beauty of Fortnum & Mason then headed back to my Russell Square hotel.

Royal Academy of Art

Next morning, bright and early, I got to Russell Square tube station only to be horrified by the note that read that the Piccadilly line would be closed both Saturday & Sunday; perhaps, I ought to have ventured out to Windsor the day of my arrival. Undaunted, I elected to head by bus to Piccadilly circus and made my way to Lilywhites where I purchased a pair of sneakers and chucked the pair of too tight and heavy, foot-blistering nuisance in the bin. Spent little time at RAA; the Michelangelo was underwhelming and too crowded for my ubiquitously masked comfort – my spouse is 24/7 on oxygen; I can ill afford to become exposed to respiratory contagion.

Iris

Oil on Canvas

1890 Vincent van Gogh

Provenance: National Gallery of Canada

Next stop, Trafalgar Square and the rapturously overwhelming Vincent van Gogh exhibition at The National Gallery. Breathtaking beauty that is each canvas was marred by the fact that there are simply far too many persons currently incarnate. Sixty-one phenomenal works of art by the modern Dutch genius, which must have a market value of at least 2B£. Obviously, it is all about the biggest bang for one’s buck but the heat radiating off the masses moving from salon to salon was at times overwhelming. There could have been a system whereby 50 persons max per salon to allow everyone a good appreciation of each piece. As ever, the tallest persons always have a knack for planting their obstructive frame before a painting and taking their sweet damn time before moving on.

Sketch for a Portrait of Lisa (Sainsbury)

Oil on Canvas

1955 Francis Bacon

This exhibition, next-door at The National Portrait Gallery, because it left me so pronouncedly aware of George Hawken being ‘around’ that it, plus the sheer staggering beauty of Francis Bacon’s genius moved me to tears. This portrait of Lisa Sainsbury, the way her eyes mimic Akhenaten’s end up remarkably resembling singer, Thom Yorke’s delicate beauty; even the colours betray the haunting melancholia of Yorke’s soulfulness. By the time that I left The National Portrait Gallery, I was listening to Radiohead’s 1997 debut album, OK Computer. The movement and emotional brilliance of clarity in each Bacon canvas is humbling in its beauty. This, by far, was the most ravishing drink for the spirit. Also the very posh Milanese couple and family members were grounding to be around; they sung the language, which I studied for two years in high school.

Bacon, Francis 28/10/1909<O>28/4/1992

Michael: This fragment was a fifth-level mature artisan — fourth life thereat.  Francis was in perseveration mode with a goal of rejection.  A sceptic, Francis was in the moving part of intellectual centre. 

Francis’ body type was Saturn/Lunar. 

Francis’ primary chief feature was impatience and the secondary arrogance. 

The fragment Francis is fifth-cast in the fourth cadence; Francis is a member of greater cadence five.  Francis’ entity is five, cadre one, greater cadre 7, pod 414. 

Francis’ essence twin is an artisan, who is extant, an interior decorator and female; his task companion a sage. 

Francis’ primary needs were: expression, freedom and expansion. 

There are 12 past-life associations with Arvin and 5 with Merlin.  (February, 2018)  ­­­­­­­­­­­ _________________________________________

Portrait of D. H. Kahnweiler II

Crayon transfer Lithograph

1957 Pablo Picasso

British Museum

Day two of the Piccadilly line being down, and out into the grey-skied chill air, I ventured from the hotel, cutting across Russell Square and proved the first in line on Great Russell Street for the British Museum. Soon, Juan and I were chatting; he is in his eighth decade, enjoying retirement after a career spent at the Prado; he never said what he did. He clearly loved art and came every few months to London where the best exhibitions were to be had. Paris was long passé, Juan declared with a dismissive clipped laugh. After the not very dramatic Picasso print exhibition, I took off for The Japanese Galleries where, as ever, I found centre whilst visiting London. As agreed, we met up in the café, close to the two beautiful totem poles that lord over that sector of the sprawling institution.

Picasso, Pablo 25/10/1881<O>8/4/1973

Michael: This fragment was a seventh-level young warrior — third life thereat.  Pablo was in aggression mode with a goal of dominance.  A sceptic, Pablo was in the moving part of intellectual centre. 

Pablo’s body type was Venus/Saturn. 

Pablo’s primary chief feature was exalted arrogance and the secondary greed fixated on accomplishments. 

The fragment Pablo is second-cast in the second cadence; Pablo is a member of greater cadence four.  Pablo‘s entity is six, cadre one, greater cadre 6, pod 404. 

Pablo’s essence twin is a warrior and his task companion a scholar who was known to him. 

Pablo’s primary needs were: expression, freedom and security. 

There are 3 past-life associations with Arvin and 1 with Merlin.  (January, 2018)  ­­­­­­­­­­__________________________

The Japanese Galleries, The British Museum

Returned to the hotel, I quickly fell into sleep’s welcome embrace. As is habit, I dreamt rather lucid dreams, especially so for being in London. Among those eight dreams in 3.5 hours was a rather lucidly awakened encounter with Prince William and his wife; she was cool, tense and disinterested. I had a distinct impression that her mood was more so to do with their state of affairs than myself or anyone else for that matter. The three of us were the only persons. Catherine who had been stooped to the moist, wet ground was planting clippings. She declined to look when William called after her announcing, “Look who’s here.” When she finally stood up, being clipped, dismissive and took leave of more so him than me, William placed his left palm on the small of my back, caressed me with his left thumb; throughout the dream, I could very intensely smell him. He was calm, centred and without the trappings of his waking persona – numerology, chief features and centre. William is an older soul – sixth mature, who like every one in acceptance was gracious and civil – his father, King Charles III is also in acceptance. I awoke and ventured by taxi to an evening with Vanessa, Clive and two of their four sons. It was a very emotional evening and none of the past 42 years of rich memories, family life and subsequent generations would have unfolded had I not acted on spirit and dreams which assured me that I had to set up Clive and Vanessa on a blind date, a lifetime ago.

St. George’s Chapel, Windsor Castle

Moments after having spent a good two minutes in reflection, head bowed, facing due north, I quickly took this photo looking eastward. I was not the first to have arrived in the line at Windsor castle on day four, but as everyone ventured towards the castle’s staterooms, I turned westward and briskly walked towards St. George’s Chapel. There was an American family who’d never been before. On entering, they turned right, as I turned left towards the great west doors, en route to pay homage. After a few words with the crimson-garbed cleric, I bowed and meditated. Suddenly, the first dream had of the recently passed Elizabeth II lucidly mushroomed in my mind. The dream reanimated about me as I watched myself walk towards the transitioning astral plane habituée and placed a garment about her, keeping her warm, honouring her richly ennobled life.

King George VI Memorial Chapel (DailyMail)

I came to as the American family, having erroneously wandered off to the Albert Memorial Chapel approached. I took leave, allowing them to visit with the large black Belgian marble slab with bronze inlays that marks where Queen Elizabeth II, Elizabeth, her mother, George VI, her father, Margaret Rose, her sister and Philip, her husband are together entombed. Simple, elegant… poignant.

Freedom. George Michael 1990

Naomi

Well before noon and I was returned to London where I alighted in South Kensington. Small, intimate and the two films that accompany the exhibition leave no doubt in one’s mind that Naomi is a Queen. If weight considerations were not a concern, I would have purchased a few coffee table books from the exhibition. I listened to George Michael’s Freedom for the rest of the afternoon until taking a nap. This tiny exhibition infuses the Victoria & Albert Museum with intense beauty and style.

Campbell, Naomi 22/5/1970 London, England

Michael: This fragment is a second-level mature artisan – third life thereat.  Naomi is in caution mode with a goal of rejection.  A realist, she is in the moving part of emotional centre. 

Naomi’s body type is Saturn/Mercury. 

Naomi’s primary chief feature is arrogance and the secondary stubbornness. 

The fragment Naomi is fifth-cast in the sixth cadence; she is a member of greater cadence four.  George’s entity is two, cadre four, greater cadre 7, pod 414. 

Naomi’s essence twin is an artisan and her task companion is a sage. 

Naomi’s primary needs are: exchange, expression and freedom. 

There are 6 past-life associations with Arvin and 4 with Merlin.  ____________________________________________

Andy Warhol & Jean-Michel Basquiat. Michael Halsband 1985

Next stop, I was off downstairs at the Victoria & Albert Museum to be thoroughly consumed by the staggering creative legacy of pieces from Elton John & David Furnish’s art collection. Truly arresting and brilliantly impressive, Fragile Beauty is a masterful exhibition. In light of Quincy Jones’s recent passing, the constrictor enrobed Nastassja Kinski photographed by Richard Avedon proved even more captivating. Why have I yet to get the hype over The Beatles? George Harrison and his vibe, I fully get. Hey Jude will ever be a touchstone, but them as a ‘thing’ remains for me utterly elusive. Billie Holiday captured in song proved more captivating than I anticipated. Some shots brought back memories of living in New York City in the early 1980s. Always found Keith Haring’s pheromones off-putting; he moved in the same art circles as dancer turned designer and lover, Attila Isaksen. Smiled at the memory of Attila and I, watching through a skylight Robert Mapplethorpe engaging in S&M at a loft in Chelsea. Our one sexual encounter was intense; I felt overwhelmed by the inordinate looseness of the man. On two occasions he had been leaving the S&M loft upstairs as I came bounding up the stairs to the second storey loft below his friends’. The third time this occurred, he rushed into the loft after me and our tryst was a noisy, feverish business; it was obvious that he was taken by my explosive kinetic energy. The exhibition’s photograph of Mapplethorpe reveals a possessed ghost of the dazzling persona I had encountered in late 1982; clearly, at the time of the photograph, he was being consumed by AIDS. By far, the best photograph of Malcolm X is part of the Elton John & David Furnish collection.

Trial proof of Self-Portrait: Reflection. Lucian Freud 1996

There could be no doubt why the pilgrimage was undertaken. This Lucian Freud exhibition of prints, though, not disappointing, was not the soul-stirring rapture that was the Francis Bacon exhibition at The National Portrait Gallery. I had been hoping to see Kai, Bella and other more notable works. The whippet Hugo was, without doubt, the highlight of the exhibition… at least for me. Feet sore though manageably so, I was returned to Russell Square and a dream-filled nap with one very memorable flying dream.

Freud, Lucian 8/12/1922 Berlin<O>20/7/2011 London

Michael: This fragment was a fifth level mature priest – third life thereat.  Lucian was in observation mode with a goal of dominance.  Lucian was a sceptic who was in the moving part of intellectual centre. 

Lucian’s primary chief feature was stubbornness and his secondary chief feature was that of impatience. 

Lucian had a Saturn/Mars body type. 

Lucian’s casting is in the fourth position of the fourth cadence in the sixth greater cadence.  He is a member of entity six, cadre one, greater cadre 7, pod 414 – Lucian is an entity mate of both Arvin and Merlin’s. 

Essence twin for Lucian is a priest and his task companion is a slave. 

The three primary needs for Lucian were: exchange, freedom and power. 

There are 17 past-life associations with Arvin and 14 with Merlin.   __________________________________________

The Tales of Hoffmann. Royal Opera House

Ah the magic of theatre. Naturally, as the house lights go down, Merlin always falls into my mind. I loved the fantastic elements of the Offenbach opera; so very rich, pandimensional and dream-like. A good seat was mine and adding to the experience was, the man in his early 30s sat next to me. He was possessed of that yearning so common to us the tribe of men. A Briton, he seductively danced as he had since boyhood with his chums. I sat comfortably engrossed in the opera, but was ever mindful of his arm and leg gently, with increasing tension, caressing against mine. By act three, he was sat arms folded his index and middle finger gently caressing my arm. Neither of us had moved from our seats during the second intermission; the date, copine, épouse whomever did leave whilst I sat deeply engrossed in my phone. Rhythmically, his thigh muscle flexing, thus he kept up the dance’s intensity. Though he proved arousing distraction, I was still disturbed after having visited with Vanessa and Clive, the latter clearly not much longer focussed in this world.

The Farnese Hercules. Royal Academy of Art

Last full day in the city where in the 18th century I enjoyed a life (male) at court as a musician. Always indeed, it is good to go home. I was returned to the Royal Academy of Art to finish off my tour of the place. There were, three days prior, too many kids screaming their lungs out. Satisfied, I then crossed Piccadilly and indulged in putting together an F&M hamper of goodies just in time for the holidays. Returned home, I read and rested up for the night ahead.

Tosca, Royal Opera House, Covent Garden

Round two and back for more! Returned was I for a glorious night of Puccini as the most beautiful production of Tosca unfolded. Gloriously improved seating; good to feel the orchestra fully washing over me. This performance was riveting and its staging and design were stellar. During my return from the first intermission, I looked up to where I was sat the night prior. My yearning seat companion leaned forward in his seat to peer down at me. The dance ever endures. The sets were marvellous.

Royal Opera House, Covent Garden

The second intermission and I went outside to make a phone call. Whilst admiring the monstrous Rolls across the street and whose grill is visible in the right corner of the preceding photograph, a concert goer approached and declared that he was alone. Did I smoke? No. Would I like some company afterwards; I had almost forgotten how cocky I used to be when young. My phone buzzed; there was my cue. Silently, I returned across the street and pleasurably relaxed into my seat for Tosca’s final act. Midway through the curtain call, I made a dash for the exit and hung out just inside the stage door for about half an hour then made it to the Covent Garden tube station… alone. Yes, my darling, à la prochaine, London!

Jones, Quincy 14/3/1933 <O> 3.11.2024

Michael: This fragment was a fifth-level mature artisan – third life thereat.  Quincy was in the power mode with a goal of dominance.  A sceptic, Quincy was in the moving part of intellectual centre. 

Quincy’s primary chief feature was arrogance and the secondary stubbornness. 

Quincy’s body type was Venus/Mars. 

The fragment Quincy is second-cast in the first cadence.  Quincy is a member of greater cadence four.  Quincy is a member of entity one, cadre one, greater cadre 4, pod 129. 

Quincy’s essence twin is an artisan and the task companion is a sage. 

Quincy’s four primary needs were: expression, adventure, power and communion.

There are 6 past-life associations with Arvin and 11 with Merlin.  _______________________________________________

Quincy Jones & Orchestra

Jazz pour tous

©1961 Belgium

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You are to Jazz what wings are to an ostrich; what the fuck do eagles care that queer, unaware ostriches have wings?

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©2013-2025 Arvin da Brgha. All Rights Reserved.

The Rat King!

Harry 40th Birthday Prince Harry and Here’s to Your Fifth Decade!

Windsor, Henry 15/9/1984 London, England

Michael: This feisty fragment is a fifth-level mature warrior – fourth life thereat – to his sixth-level mature brother, William.  Henry is in the power mode with a goal of growth.  A sceptic, Henry is in the moving part of intellectual centre. 

Body type is Mars/Saturn. 

Henry’s primary chief feature is arrogance and the secondary stubbornness. 

The fragment Henry is first-cast in second cadence; he is a fragment of greater cadence three.  Henry’s entity is one, cadre six, greater cadre 7, pod 418 – Henry is an entity mate of his paternal grandmother, HM Queen Elizabeth II. 

Henry’s essence twin is a warrior and he has a scholar task companion. 

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

There are 9 past-life associations with Arvin and 5 with Merlin. 

Past Lives of Note:

Michael: There is long standing rivalry between Catherine and this fragment. Fought in many wars together, 14 past lives of note between Catherine & Henry.

            1. This fragment was also present in the 13th century Khan lifetime as the first cousin of the scholar William. He (former Henry) was disruptive at best and had difficulty following orders with a primary chief feature of self destruction and a secondary of greed fixated on independence.

His (former Henry) view of his cousin’s preference of male company was negative at best, and he continues to have strong viewpoints of what he considers moral. Of course, at this time, Henry is working through 4th internal monad issues and has chosen a partner, Meghan, similar to his mother, the late Diana, Princess of Wales through efforts to provide protection that he was unable to do when he was young.

            The fragment who is now Catherine was a soldier (male) in the Khan lifetime who also disapproved of this warrior’s (Henry) behavior. Catherine was incidentally a lover of the fragment who is now William, hence the triangulation of this trio.

            We will concur here that there are many complexities between the principals in the royal family which is not unusual given their mature soul status at this time.

            2. This warrior and his previous relationship with the mature artisan Chelsy Davy of Southern African descent were married and ruled the island of Tonga during a constitutional crisis and reorganization in the 1800’s – King George Tupou I. His temperament was much calmer than it is today due to the choice of acceptance and stoic.

            3. Member of a large sailing expedition under the command of Cortés. Spanish. (former Henry) Was cast overboard when he refused to comply with implementing rules of conduct.  Died of hypothermia.

*Dec, 2023.

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Context: Coupled with his numerological two 6s, Harry is power mode and a sceptic. He is a very shrewd and deeply complex human. One thing that I have come to know, is that apart from the fact that all gap-toothed Whites having been Black in their immediate past life, when such persons have two such 6s, which has to do with being focussed on their familial iconography, such persons always display a deep affinity towards Blacks. The other prominent gap-toothed White with two 6s who has that abiding affinity towards Blacks is Madonna; they have major issues with familial iconography – Papa Don’t Preach, Like A Virgin, Like A Prayer et al. Madonna, of course, had been Blues/Jazz singer/songwriter, Bessie Smith. There are other famous gap-toothed Whites who were Black in their immediate past life, who are not necessarily focussed with Black culture as such. They are model and actress, Lauren Hutton and the riveting, handsome actor, Willem Dafoe. Harry’s affinity and deep empathy for Blacks is reflected in his having started Sentebale in Lesotho with Prince Seeiso of Lesotho. I will always remember seeing Harry dance in Jamaica and a friend with whom I watched TV before dinner, clapped, laughed and declared, “That Boy’s got soul!”

Ciccone, Madonna Aug 16 1958 Michigan

Now, for Madonna Louise Ciccone, who was also very well-known in her immediate past life, as Bessie Smith, the “Empress of the Blues.” 

This fragment was, in her most famous life, however, the composer of many madrigals and operas, the forerunner of today’s 12-tone compositions, Claudio Monteverdi. 

The voice has always been this warrior-cast sage’s favourite instrument, whether the fragment was writing for it or performing with it, but the fragment has also danced and acted on most of this world’s stages at one time or another. 

A consummate performer and a shrewd judge of the way the world works, this fragment likes nothing better than to know she has caused a shockwave to reverberate around the globe. 

Madonna Louise is a sixth level mature sage in the observation mode, with a goal of dominance, a cynic in the moving part of emotional centre. 

She has a Lunar/Venus body type. 

Madonna’s primary chief feature is arrogance, with a strong secondary of stubbornness. 

This fragment was third-cast in her cadence and her cadence is fifth in the greater cadence.  She is a member of entity six, cadre four, greater cadre 41, pod/node 414. 

A fragment of this entity recalls acting with the fragment who is now Madonna Louise on the Greek stage 1800 years ago and being completely in awe of his, at that time male, talent; also, at that time, this fragment was a seventh level young soul sage and the fragment of our entity was a sixth level old soul and a sage-cast king. 

We would not exactly brand Madonna Louise as androgynous, since she uses every feminine wile she can possibly bring to bear.  All three of these fragments: Madonna, Prince and Michael Jackson, have a very high percentage of yin energy as compared to yang energy. 

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I do believe that the channelled information touched on the life at sea with explorer Cortés for Prince Harry because it was also a reference to one of the 9 past-lives where we were known to each other. In this past-life dream in 1989, Prince Harry would have been not yet five years old and thus he was though vaguely familiar also not readily discernible. I identified with him, assuming that it was me in a past life, but it clearly was not the case. I would have been aboard ship at the time when Harry in that past life was thrown overboard. Clearly, the rules of conduct had to do with the sexual mores of the crew, to which Harry stubbornly objected having to do anything about. The dream follows…

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The fourth dream then found me about a large, hangar-like dormitory area.  As a matter of fact, it seemed like a prison because it was very dark and wooden all about – below deck of a large ship. Somehow, one had the sense of Elektra Munk-Ejoonhoè being about.  Too, there were lots of Hispanic – Latino, youth about.  Jorge Delacruz was there and on seeing him, I enthusiastically reconnected with him.  I decided to see him later.   

Then a man came and sat where I was and when he had, he had come over and he had on a dark coat.  He had bags of fruit and there was a large light-green fruit, like really large green grapes – like the ones you get in Paris. Then he had two other bags – those bags that have got slits in them so that the contents in the plastic can breathe.  He had dark and green grapes.  I asked him for some whilst we sat about.   

As he was sitting there eating, I bent over to his right ear and said, “Why don’t you come on and let me give you a blowjob.  I’ll suck you off and make you feel real good.” 

However, in fact, I had said this to Jorge Delacruz and he had said, “No.  No.  There is no technique.  I once got in trouble because only a woman can know how to do it.  I once got a nickname for getting into stuff like that which is why I’m in trouble. Now I’m only with ladies.  You know, there are times when these ladies can get to me, I was caught with a younger girl.”   

He then went on about all this personal demonic stuff.  I was saying, “Come on.  We can go across there and then inside there in that room.  There is that room where nobody goes into.  We can go in there.” 

So finally, we did go across the way.  This was after Jorge had been in a scuffle with some other guy who had on a pretty t-shirt. There was also a guy there with a fat arse.  He wore red shorts and top and he was holding on to the guy telling him, “Don’t go get mad, don’t go get mad.  Man don’t go get yourself into trouble.  Lord I love you too much.”

Most of these were Spanish guys and they were all Gay.  They were in a larger dormitory area in which I had been earlier.  Guys were on top of guys frottaging and carrying on. As a matter of fact, their play was quite affectionate and loving.  There was a little guy on top of a big guy and he was very paternal. I found it rather nice and interesting to have observed them.  There was so much machismo to this group of men.

What ended up happening was that I progressed to the scene wherein I went into the little area up towards what would be the bow of the ship.  I was in there with Jorge and wanted to give him a blowjob. Though I went off that way to be with Jorge, yet a part of me was separate – I was astral-projected.  So naturally, I was able to go up above deck and look at the ship whilst still privately being alone with Jorge.   

This was a large wooden ship with sails and it was out to sea.  At the time, it was dark like in the night but coming on to daytime. I looked into the sea and it was greenish, heavy and as if molten liquid.  As the ship sailed through it, it made no furrows because the water was so heavy and molten. The ship almost did not create any waves.  Seemingly, the large ship merely glided through the ocean.  There were just little circling pools of water where the ocean was organically green.  I was up on a raised part of the deck towards the front of the ship’s bow. 

Way down at the very front of the ship, on the right side, was a man and he had a fishing line and he was fishing.  He was an older White.  Every now and again, the little fish would leap out of the water as he fished. He got the anchor and I knew that when he threw it in the water, the rope that it was tied to was in the room where my primary dreamer self and Jorge now were in the midst of having frisky relations.   

I was somewhat concerned but anyway remained unmoved.  He tossed the anchor that looked like a bucket.  The unusual-looking anchor was large and the rope had knots with wood along it so that you could walk up these wooden strips like a ladder.  Overall, it was rather interesting. He tossed it in and the anchor, however, pulled him in.  There was so much rope, it kept on going down, down and further down into the calm ocean; that was when I realised how far out to sea we were.

I then was concerned for both the man and myself in the room where the rope originated.  I was afraid that we would be exposed as I gave Jorge a very energetic blowjob. Was the rope going to catch amongst our feet and drag us off? I was frantic about the older White who had gone overboard whilst fishing.  I thought, My god what if he gets attacked by sharks or such?

I was indeed quite concerned.  The older White never did surface for the longest time.  I was concerned that he was caught down there or attacked by sharks.  I was looking to see if there were any sharks in the water, but there weren’t any. The water was such a soulful green.  Too, it was so richly heavy, liquid and tranquil, I thought, Oh how beautiful to be on the ocean. I found it to be rather nice. I was wondering if he going to drown? Is this me drowning in another life, as it were?

Being there for the man and feeling great empathy for his dilemma, I was rendered catatonic.  Eventually, I did see him come up to the surface.  His face, however, never did break the surface of the water. He just seemed this large body of clothing and flesh that was floating just below the surface.  I thought, Oh dear… I guess it meant that he had drowned. I did not see any sharks about and was pleased at that.

At that point, I then progressed back into the hull where all the people were.  Jorge was coming out and I was with him.  Again, he got accosted and he was going to get into a fight situation. Now he was quite lean-bodied, wearing just underwear and a merino.  I saw his basket and I was quite attracted to him.  He was quite virile and boyish in that frame of body.

Virile, in the sense that he was quite macho and very much so into abusing people, if need be – in self-defense. He was being groped, sexually assaulted, by these lecherous Gays and he was exceptionally pretty indeed.

*I think that it is safe to say that this was a past-life dream experience.  The man who went overboard was, without a doubt, someone of note connected to me in a life where I was at sea.

**Long after the fact and so many channelled overleaves later, I suspect that based on how information in shared, when it is relevant to one’s arcana, the man who went overboard may well have been Harry in that past life where he served Cortés. I felt such empathy for his situation; he was clearly at odds with what his superiors charged him to undertake aboard ship. Life aboard was all about debauchery, licentiousness, all of which would have left the old man incapable of keeping order aboard the ship, nor was he much inclined to have intervened. END.

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Windsor, Prince William, Prince of Wales 21/6/1982 London

Michael: This fragment is sixth-level mature scholar – third life thereat.  William is in observation mode with a goal of acceptance.  A pragmatist, he is in the intellectual part of moving centre. 

William’s body type is Lunar/Mars/Saturn. 

William’s primary chief feature is stubbornness – death of his mother, Diana, Princess of Wales, was the triggering event and the secondary chief feature that of arrogance. 

The fragment William is third-cast in sixth cadence; he is a member of greater cadence seven.  William’s entity is four, cadre one, greater cadre 6, pod 208. 

William’s essence twin is a scholar and he has a warrior task companion to whom he is married, Catherine, HRH The Princess of Wales. 

William’s primary needs are: exchange, freedom and security. 

There are 6 past-life associations with Arvin and 3 with Merlin. 

Past Lives of Note:

Michael: Past lives of note include the following:

            1. This fragment was the second in command to the Khan of the Mongol empire and helped explore and deploy wartime strategies, a skill he had developed over time and throughout multiple incarnations. His expertise was that of a cartographer and he put to paper various “options” that could be utilized depending primarily on the weather.

He did not marry or have children and preferred the company of men. This past life occurred during the 13thcentury.

            2. Female, head of matriarchy, New Zealand. Fought against the encroachment by Cook, married to Tupaia (sic) and served to assist in negotiations with the invading forces, mid 18th century.

            3.  Henry IV of England. Highly influential in War of the Roses in his overthrow of the monarchy. Fought for his inheritances. The current warrior spouse, Catherine, was also present as Mary, his first wife. The fragment who is now his eldest son, Prince George, was his daughter, Philippa, who became Queen of Denmark, Norway & Sweden, in this life of note.  

*Dec, 2023.

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As Merlin is my task companion and a scholar; it is always good to have dream encounters with William. Regardless his persona in the waking state, like most scholars, he is fairly centred and serene. Always, without exception, he sits comfortably with legs gathered beneath him as is distinctly unique to males on the spectrum or as I recently discovered neurodivergent. He is never hostile and sometimes telepathic. The only other times he has not been thusly sat, was one dream of him on the eve of his mother, Diana, Princess of Wales’ violent departure – assassination, wherein he was asleep in bed. More recently, when he was having rough sex with Catherine where he bottomed and she used a strap on; he was pleasured rather than violated during their sexual play. Of course, this would be owing to his fourth number of 5, which is always about outré sexuality; that too would have harked back to the 13th century past life when serving the Mongol Khan and he was same-sex focussed. Though William has the great goal of Acceptance, it’s opposite or negative pole is Rejection/Discrimination. That means that with a mind set of 9, he would rarely be focussed in acceptance at this point in life, but a discriminating snob, and as we now know a blasted racist boor. The preceding photo of a young William is what acceptance looked like before it withered and was replaced by his hatefulness and he moved to a goal of Rejection.

Elephant mandala created by Merlin for his oldest friend

Incidentally, on the matter of sexuality, I must state that the whole business is rather queer to my perception. Men are perfectly attracted to men and if they weren’t, they’d not be human, as for that matter are women attracted to women. Obviously, a lot of that same-sex attraction is oftentimes triggered by past-life connections that are undeniable and magnetic. The notion of Queer men finding women sexually revolting, is absurd to me. Nothing beats honouring womankind by eating pussy like a famished gilt set loose in truffle patch… grunt, grunt. It is a man’s honour to make the Queen he sexually serves squeal! Alas, just as William when King Henry IV started the House of Lancaster, he seems now destined to start another royal House as he, rather than Harry, seems the obvious illegitimate. At the end of the day, the human body comes equipped four sex organs, your mouth, your anus, and what ever happens to be up front, which for far too many unstable souls is no longer an immutable proposition. Most of all, the fourth and most powerful sex resides between one’s ears; one would be amazed at the countless millions who die, never having known of their fourth sex. For all such persons, they are just goddamn zombies, who aimlessly breed out of season. As for those of us who wear our pussy between the ears, we are never fucked!

HM King Charles is, of course, like his son, Prince Harry, Catherine and the late, Prince Philip, The Duke of Edinburgh, a warrior soul; he is the oldest soul warrior of the group at seventh level mature. HM King Charles III is an entity mate of Canadian artist, Robert Bateman who is a seventh level mature soul, though, a king soul; the latter’s task companion is the mature warrior soul, Bristol Foster. George Hawken, who was a first old soul artisan when recently incarnate and a lover of mine, collaborated with Robert Bateman. Not surprisingly, Jonathan Yeo who masterfully captured the sanguineous essence of HM King Charles III in the official portrait is an entity mate of the King’s and Jonathan is a sixth mature scholar soul.

Windsor, HM King Charles III 14/11/48 London

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

Charles’s body type is Mercury/Saturn. 

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

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

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

Past Lives of Note:

            1. This fragment served as a primary advisor to King Henry VIII between the years 1510-1536. Male. Charles Brandon. Duke of Suffolk. Married into the royal family and was a close friend of the sage, HM King Henry VIII, who was third level mature at the time.

            2. Member of the Roman senate, 10 BCE. He was a leader and adjudicated trials as a magistrate known for being a bit heavy-handed and leaned in the favor of the wealthy. Assassinated by poison at an evening meal and still has an aversion to certain spices.

            3. A well-known calligrapher and scribe for the old king soul, Lao Tsu, 600 BCE. Helped to document what later became the Tao Te Ching. Very significant life.

*Dec, 2023.

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King Charles, of course, is born in the year of the Rat. 14.11.1948. 5.7.2 = 5. Like Prince Louis of Wales, he has an energy body of 5, and also has 7 but more importantly, 5 in the fourth position. Sexual scandal, debauchery and outré sexuality are the hallmarks. 5 in the fourth position is also in Prince Andrew, Prince William and Prince George’s numerological makeup. One of the wonderful things about British society is how, apart from being chiefly ruled by the number 9 – bullying, rapaciousness, superiority complex, it is also ruled by 5 and 2. 2 not only governs giftedness and creativity with a healthy dash of genius and eccentricity, it also rules a deep an abiding love for members of one’s sex; there is a keen yearning of men to bond with a trusted man/men. This is why the culture of the military, warfare and prison/punishment is so pronounced in British culture. It also, not surprisingly, governs the aristocracy for whom the rules of engagement do not apply as with mere mortals. Eton, Harrow et al are all institutions which foster this underlying manly bonding that marries loyalty with an abiding love – physicalised or otherwise. It is not coincidental that both 2 & 5 are present in the numerology of King Charles III, Prince William, The Prince of Wales and Prince George of Wales the future King George VII. George and William are especially close and always will be because among their strong past-life history, is that of King Henry IV (Prince William) & Queen Philippa (Prince George) when they were also parent and offspring who would become Sovereigns in their own right. As King Charles III has a goal of acceptance, this is why he has the sweetest, smiling soulful eyes, that warm hushed almost silent laugh and is ever approachable. Acceptance is the great goal and such persons radiates the love vibe, which Charles does as a late mature warrior soul on the cusp of being an old soul, likely in his next incarnation.

Let’s then explore the interactions of 5 & 2 numerologically and how it is explored by the upper classes in this cases, the British royals. Edward ‘Fruity’ Metcalfe was, like Louis Mountbatten, a man with whom King Edward VIII was deeply besotted. Edward ‘Fruity’ Metcalfe’s companionship was so indispensable that he was made King Edward VIII’s equerry, the one aide who spends more time with the Sovereign than anyone else – you can damn well bet that it was not owing to their passion for needlepoint! Both Edward VIII and Edward ‘Fruity’ Metcalfe had 5 & 2 in their numerology. King Edward VIII 23.6.1894 Horse 5.2.6 = 4. Edward ‘Fruity’ Metcalfe 16.1.1887 Pig 7.8.5 = 2. Knowing both the numerology and Michael Overleaves of hundreds of persons as I do, I can quite confidently state that Edward VIII would have been an aggressive, besotted bottom with Edward ‘Fruity’ Metcalfe… good God look at the feet on the man! What’s more, Pigs, such as Edward ‘Fruity’ Metcalfe, are the most horny, raunchy, loud fuckers. Yes please! No one is born White, Black, male, female, Straight or Gay. We are souls incarnate, pursuing the human experience in as many variables, with as many choices and options as all lives are chosen for starters. I don’t have 5 in my numerology but in speaking to other male 2s, one thing we all admit to, even the ones who are not ‘Gay’ is that we love the smell of a man, we love male energy and ever yearn to touch, bond, be intimate with a man. Religion and societal mores are all mindfuck. Souls incarnate will and must do as they choose as we are numerologically hardwired to do. Being possessed of 2, 5 or even both numbers do not mean that one wants to put on high heels and act as though every goddamn day is DragRace, it is perfectly possible to compartmentalise that aspect of self and be a perfectly full blooded tail-wagging pussy hound, who enjoys the companionship of a woman, wife and creating a family as is human… it’s all a manifestation of human civilisation.

Queen Elizabeth II 21.4.1926 Tiger 3.7.7 = 8

Windsor, HM Queen Elizabeth 21/4/1926<O>08/9/2022

Michael: This fragment was a third-level mature slave – second life thereat.  Elizabeth was in the perseveration mode with a goal of dominance.  A realist, she was in the moving part of intellectual centre. 

Body type was Venus/Lunar. 

Elizabeth’s primary chief feature was stubbornness and the secondary self-deprecation. 

The fragment Elizabeth is fourth-cast in the fifth cadence; she is a fragment of greater cadence six.  Elizabeth’s entity is one, cadre six, greater cadre 7, pod 418. 

Elizabeth’s essence twin is a slave and the task companion is a priest. 

Elizabeth’s three primary needs were: security, adventure and exchange. 

There are 6 past-life associations with Arvin and 4 with Merlin. 

Past Lives of Note:

Michael: Past lives of note include the following:

1. Daughter of Queen Victoria, named Alice. Devoted servant of the people through medicine. (nursing) Health was compromised due to exposure to many contagions.

2. Son of Malcolm, king of Scotland. David. Interested in business and promoting townships. Very powerful.  This incarnation was during the 12th century.

3. Two lives in South America. Not notorious by any means, but known for her intricate designs (Mexico, pottery and Chile, clothing) Her slave role life task had to do with practicality.

4. Roman senator. Dedicated to the people through passing laws that were more favorable through less taxation. This incarnation was during the 2nd century BCE.

*Dec, 2023.

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As Queen Victoria’s daughter, Princess Alice’s short life, to age 35, prepared her for the rather momentous journey in her next life, as Princess Elizabeth, daughter of the Duke of York, later King George VI. As her passing has borne out, this was a very phenomenal human being and a Sovereign who will remain unmatched for centuries yet. It is always exceptionally good to dream of this ennobled soul, to have dreamt of her imminent passing, will remain a highpoint dream of this lifetime, and for me that’s saying a lot! Elizabeth is a cadre mate of Prince Harry, Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex, Prince George, Doria Ragland, Prince Archie and Princess Lilibet. Regardless what relation someone is to HLM Queen Elizabeth II, if they are not entity or cadre mates, they will never have had a stronger heart connection to her than the aforementioned people. For example, King Charles in not only not an entity or cadre mate, but he is from an entirely different pod, 404. There is no way that The Queen would have been warmer or closer to Charles than to say, Prince Harry or Meghan; one just knows… we all do. Kindred spirit bond is immutable. Similarly, The Queen would instinctively feel closer to Prince George than to either of his parents, William and Catherine, The Prince and Princess of Wales. Further, the Queen with two 7s in her numerology was a superior empath and would most definitely have been able to observe persons’ aura; this, of course, like all 7s, she would never advertise. Though I don’t know their overleaves, if Pamela Hicks, Lord Louis Mountbatten’s daughter and Zara Tindall are both cadre mates (pod 418) of The Queen’s, she would have had a greater affinity for both rather than King Charles and Queen Camilla, who respectively are in pods 404 and 129 – they are not kindred spirits as it were.

HM Queen Elizabeth II
https://dreampoetica.com/2021/11/15/homecoming/: The Rat King!

Once more, I share the most uplifting dream which foretold The Queen’s passing and arrival on the astral plane. One of the truly most festive dreams in this lifetime.

Prince Philip 10.6.1921 Rooster 1.7.2 = 1

Mountbatten, Philip 10/6/1921<O>9/4/2021 Greece/Windsor

Michael: This fragment was a fourth-level mature warrior – second life thereat.  Philip was in observation mode with a goal of preferred dominance.  A sceptic, he was in the moving part of intellectual centre. 

Body type was Saturn/Mars. 

Philip’s primary chief feature was stubbornness – due to early death of a family member and the secondary subdued impatience. 

The fragment Philip is seventh-cast in first cadence; he is a member of greater cadence six.  Philip’s entity is one, cadre six, greater cadre 7, pod 408. 

Philip’s essence twin is a warrior and he has a scholar task companion who was known to him. 

Philip’s primary needs were: exchange, acceptance and power. 

There are 14 past-life associations with Arvin and 6 with Merlin.  _____________________________________________________

As I have had a relatively strong past-life connection with the Late Prince Philip, he has certainly been ‘solid’ in dreams. There is an immediate and strong connection; they have been far-ranging dreams and nothing extraordinary such that one would share herein. Again, like Prince Harry, Prince Philip had very strong overleaves, was also a sceptic and also is a warrior soul.

Windsor, Queen Camilla 17/7/1947 Pig 8.6.9 = 5.

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

Body type is Lunar/Venus. 

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

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

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

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

There are 10 past-life associations with Arvin and 6 with Merlin. 

*July, 2017.

Past Lives of Note:

            1. This scholar was also present in the Henry life of note, HM King Henry VIII, with her now husband Charles. She was his lover, clandestine. Promises made at that time to bring her “Into the light” (limelight) This promise was brought to bear in the current lifetime as it was not possible at the earlier time. She was maid to Queen Anne Boleyn, who was approving of the relationship.

            2. Similar to the theme just mentioned, this fragment followed behind the footsteps of Emperor Yuan, 3rd century CE. Her innate neutrality assisted her in being the “silent partner and support” of her husband.

            3. The *task companions Camilla and Charles have also accomplished tasks that include some of the following:

                        a. Designed habitat in Amsterdam, having to do with waterways that are still being used today.

                        b. Scribes at the Library of Alexandria prior to its downfall. Helped to preserve documents and catalog information.

                        c. They have created maps, charts of both land and sea, and these include trade-routes from Europe around the South African Cape.

d. Worked on military uniforms for both practicality and flare – late 18th century.

            4. Exemplary harpsichordist who accompanied the child prodigy Mozart. She was also a gifted vocalist and played 4 other instruments.

Dec, 2023.

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*One’s task companion is never the same soul type as one’s own; for instance, Charles is a Warrior soul and Camilla is a Scholar. The task companions is 99% of the time in one’s entity; there are times that the task companion may be outside the entity but within the cadre. Then there are cases such as Charles and Camilla where over the course of several lifetimes, during which time they shared positive experiences, there is an agreement made between both souls to be honorary task companions, as the two souls have found themselves a good fit, as it were. Charles and Camilla could only be honorary task companions as they respectively are in pods 404 and 129. Past-life example #3 explores those four times when they served as honorary task companions and accomplished much for the sake of society at large. Incidentally, as scholar souls are adept at being detached from their emotions, it is much easier for scholar soul Prince William to get along with scholar soul Queen Camilla than it is for warrior soul Prince Harry. Loyalty is the hallmark of warrior souls and there is no way that Harry could with William’s ease, compartmentalise the strong emotions, pain and public humiliation that Camilla (fourth number of 5) caused Diana, Princess of Wales, William and Harry’s mum.

Charles, The 9th Earl Spencer 20.5.1964 Dragon 2.7.9 = 9

Spencer, Charles The 9th Earl 20/5/1964 London, England.

Michael: This fragment is a fourth level mature scholar – second incarnation at this level – in the observation mode, with a goal of dominance.  A sceptic, Charles is in the moving part of intellectual centre. 

Charles has a Saturn/Mars body type. 

Charles’ primary chief feature is stubbornness and a secondary of arrogance. 

Charles is third-cast in the fourth cadence of the fourth greater cadence, he is a member of entity one, cadre six, greater cadre 48, pod/node 380 – he is an entity mate of Diana, Princess of Wales’. 

Charles has a female scholar essence twin, who has been known to him. Charles’ warrior Task companion is an incarnate elder statesman, living in South Africa. 

Charles’ three primary needs are: exchange, security and freedom. 

Charles has had 6 past-life associations with Arvin and 4 with Merlin.  __________________________________________________

Charles, The 9th Earl Spencer is as steely as they come. Not only is he an entity mate of artisan soul, Diana, Prince of Wales, that would also make him an entity mate of Dodi Fayed, who is also an artisan soul. Charles passionately gave his word before the world at his late sister, Diana, Princess of Wales’ funeral that he would protect William and Harry. Needless to say, William has no use for Charles Spencer. A sceptic, like Harry and Prince Philip, Charles, The 9th Earl Spencer will always be there for Prince Harry and his family; this is precisely why on Harry’s return to England to attend, Lord Robert Fellowes’ memorial service, Charles welcomed Harry to stay with him at Althorp, rather than having anything to do with the racist boors who rule the House of Windsor in Queen Elizabeth’s wake.

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Diana, Princess of Wales 1.7.1961 Ox 1.8.7 = 7

Spencer, Diana  July 1/1961<O>August 31/1997.

Michael: The fragment who was Diana Frances is a second level mature artisan and was in the passion mode with a goal of acceptance, a pragmatist in the moving part of emotional centre. 

She had a Lunar/Mercury body type. 

Diana’s primary chief feature was stubbornness with a secondary, not of self-destruction but of self-deprecation. 

Diana Frances was first-cast in her cadence and her cadence is fifth in the greater cadence.  She is a member of entity one, cadre six, greater cadre 48, pod/node 380. 

This fragment’s essence twin is a discarnate artisan and her task companion is a discarnate sage, both of whom are staying near her, waiting for her to become oriented to her situation. 

Here we had an artisan with drama in her casting but also with a very deep need to serve both the common and the higher good, which she did with grace, charm and a good deal of conviction. 

*Shared September, 1997

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The incomparable Diana, Princess of Wales, as is obvious, is an entity mate of both her brother, Charles, The 9th Earl Spencer and Dodi her lover. I do believe that based on her numerology 7 in the fourth position, also solidified by a second 7, she was assassinated. 7 in the fourth position is more likely indicative of a public figure who has been assassinated. Also, when such persons are eliminated, their violent death stuns and has a devastating effect on society. This was also the case for U. S. President, John F. Kennedy whose numerology was 29.5.1917 Snake 2.7.7 = 7. That’s a lot of 7s. He was too great a threat for the powers behind the throne, as it were, and thus was assassinated. Similarly, Diana was removed because she could not be allowed to start a rival court with a Muslim, bare him offspring whilst still the future King Mother. Based on dream insights gleaned, here is how I foresee this all playing out. William will groom Prince George to have a Jewish wife as his Queen Consort. She will in turn will insure that her firstborn is female, thereafter that future female Sovereign will choose a Jewish spouse thus precipitating a name change from the House of Windsor to what seems obvious – William’s choice of a wedding date, and his abrupt cancellation of his appearance at his godfather, the Late King Constantine II of Greece’s service of thanksgiving. At that point, well into the future, it will then be implied that William himself was never a Windsor anyway. The clues are all there, which is precisely why Nicky Hilton was wedded at Kensington Palace’s orangery. All this, further lends credence to the violent opposition to Meghan marrying in so high up the line of succession. The one thing that has always been obvious, is how thoroughly the mere mortals choose to be blind to the truth… facts after all are truth. History will see the eighteenth letter of the alphabet playing a key role in the name change. And you can bet your bottom dollar for all that displacing sea change, racist Britons, too fearful to cause offence, will readily look back in history and blame it all on Meghan… but, of course.

David Mirvish. Diana, Princess of Wales & Ed Mirvish 1991

Back in October, 1991, as part of my annual Toronto Symphony Orchestra subscription, I attended an Emanuel Ax recital. Thankfully, it was short and sweet as his diminutive stature left him bobbing about, which proved irritating for me. I got out of Roy Thomson Hall and noticed that there was a large gathering on King Street West just west of the concert hall on Simcoe Street at King Street West. Soon enough, on learning that Diana, Princess of Wales was at the Royal Alexandra Theatre to see Les Misérables, I hightailed it down the block then across King Street West to the north side and back easterly towards the theatre. I knew that with persons in wheelchairs just beyond the marquee that the Princess would make it for them as they eagerly waited to have an audience with her. I was floored when the Princess emerged from the theatre, there was a deafening frenzy of cheers, a blinding lightning storm of camera flashes. Eventually, she made to the wheelchaired persons beyond the barricades that kept the rest of us in check. She was steely, her eyes were phenomenally blue and doe-like. Dazzling, I was then completely won over when she made it eventually to her limousine. She sat into the car backwards, knees and ankles together, she then did the most graceful port de bras imaginable; she pushed off, swivelled and swung her legs and body into the car, all the while maintaining the elegant line of her long neck.

Diana, Princess of Wales at Toronto’s AIDS hospice Casey House, 1991

Years later, as a dear close friend, the first Gay friend with whom I never once had sex – truly remarkable, came by to help me get situated on my move from Vancouver to Montréal, we talked overlong about Diana, Princess of Wales as Graeme had been visiting me from Toronto at the time of her violent death. Graeme, who was the most truly Boteroesque man imaginable, was a stickler for facts and ever keenly observant. He shared that he thought it was pretty bizarre as he was a keen royalist, less so than his chum, Ms. Kitty Litter – local Toronto drag queen who in the unforgiving world of drag, was said to both smell and look like piss-sodden, shitty kitty litter! They had both attended every visit that Diana ever made to Toronto and were present at Casey House, Toronto’s AIDS hospice, and the Royal Alexandra Theatre and as I recalled, Diana, Princess of Wales once settled into her ride, did put on her seatbelt. Ms. Kitty Litter whom we called and consoled as he was an hysteric mess back in Toronto, swore up and down that there is no way that Diana would not have put on her seatbelt in that car… go figure. Sobbing, Ms. Kitty Litter blurted out, “Oh my god, they’ve killed our angel, I’m telling you. They’ve killed her!” Three years later, Graeme who lived alone with his mum, suffered a heart attack whilst reading the morning’s newspapers on the living room sofa, in tony the Beaches, in the city’s east end. For more than a week, Graeme’s mum left his body on the sofa and kept calling on him to wake up. Needless to say, the city’s social services moved in, as he had no children nor she relations, and took her into psychiatric care – neighbours had raised concerns about the lack of activity and a foul odour. Diana, Princess of Wales had an energy body of 1 and such people pay keen attention to details and are the most cautious, self-aware and leave nothing to chance.

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Dodi Fayed 15.4.1955 Goat 6.1 3 = 1

Fayed, Dodi 15/4/1955<O>31/8/1997

Michael: This fragment was a third level mature artisan – second life thereat.  Dodi was in power mode with a goal of submission.  A realist, he was in the intellectual part of moving centre. 

Dodi’s body type was Saturn/Lunar. 

Dodi’s primary chief feature was arrogance and the secondary mild stubbornness. 

The fragment Dodi is third-cast in second cadence; he is a member of greater cadence four.  Dodi’s entity is one, cadre six, greater cadre 48, pod 380. 

Dodi’s essence twin is an artisan and his task companion a sage, both of whom are discarnate at this time, though, they plan on reincarnating soon.  Dodi is an entity mate of Diana, Princess of Wales’ – there was a mutually facilitating agreement for “unconditional support.” There were 26 past-life associations between Dodi & Diana, Princess of Wales.

Dodi’s primary needs were: expression, freedom and security. 

There are 4 past-life associations with Arvin and 5 with Merlin.  _________________________________________________

Respectively, The Queen, Harry, Meghan are in entity one of cadre 6, which resonates with slave and priest soul energies which is all about a life that is committed to serving as well as doing so for a higher good. Similarly, Charles, The 9th Earl Spencer, Diana, Princess of Wales and Dodi Fayed are in entity one of cadre 6 of their pod, 380 to the others’ pod 418. There is positively no way that Diana, Princess of Wales and Meghan would not have gotten along. During their engagement interview with the BBC, Prince Harry said that Diana, Princess of Wales and Meghan would have been as thick as thieves in their ease of friendship and he was correct. One thing that is certain about Dodi, for being in the intellectual part of moving centre, there is no way that Diana and Dodi were not passionately involved. Moving centred persons are intensely highly sexed persons and by the time of their assassination, it is highly probable that they were already unofficially engaged, Diana, Princess of Wales was pregnant and it would have been the best fucking sex that both had ever had to that point in their lives. They are entity mates and sex with such persons is truly ecstatic. Furthermore, Diana, Princess of Wales with her two 7s would have definitely seen their aura during sex and there is no way that she would not have wanted to spend the rest of her life with Dodi. Good God they had had 26 past lives together to that point; they were in deep and nothing and no one was going to stop them except, of course, someone immensely richer than her in-laws and his family. Making deals with the devil, is precisely why the little grovelling bastard wailed as he did on seeing Diana, Princess of Wales’ lifeless body in the Paris hospital. He was truly horrified of what a mess he had made of things and how callously he had been betrayed by someone he thought he knew… someone who neither looked up to him nor considered him an equal.

Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex 4.8.1981 Rooster 4.3.4 = 11

Windsor, Meghan The Duchess of Sussex 4/8/1981

Michael: This fragment is a mid-cycle mature artisan in the tradition of the deceased mother fragment who was Diana, Princess of Wales – third life thereat.  Meghan is in the observation mode with a goal of acceptance.  An idealist, Meghan is in the moving part of emotional centre. 

Meghan’s primary chief feature is self-deprecation and the secondary of mild impatience. 

Meghan’s body type is Venus/Solar. 

The fragment Meghan is fourth-cast in the fifth cadence.  Meghan is a member of greater cadence four.  Meghan is a member of entity one, cadre six, greater cadre 7, pod 418 – she is an entity mate of both her spouse, HRH Prince Henry, The Duke of Sussex with whom she shares 20 past lives and also an obvious entity mate of Her Majesty, The Queen. 

Meghan’s essence twin is an artisan and the task companion a warrior. 

Meghan’s three primary needs are: expression, acceptance and expansion.

There are 4 past-life associations with Arvin and 6 with Merlin. 

Incidentally, this artisan has been a member of the British royal family twice before.  Firstly, as Margaret Beaufort, Countess of Richmond and Derby, she was the cousin of King Henry VI and mother of King Henry VII.  As such, she was the matriarch of the House of Tudor.  Her grandson was King Henry VIII and her great-granddaughter, Queen Elizabeth I. 

This artisan, Margaret Beaufort (former Meghan) in that lifetime was involved in the sacraments of the church, being included in the newly established college system.  She founded Christ College, Cambridge and was instrumental with the founding of St. John’s College as well. 

Secondly, she was HRH Prince Edward, Duke of York and Albany and younger brother to George III, whose father the Prince of Wales, HRH Prince Frederick died before acceding the throne after George II.  In that lifetime, the artisan (now Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex) was interested in military structure.  He, of course, died young of a then unknown illness but which had to do with dysentery. 

Comment on Megxit:

Michael: This is a complex issue and as noted there is a karmic debt owed by Harry to Catherine. As a warrior, Catherine expects strict loyalty from the scholar soul William, her task companion, and this position has influenced the separation at this time.

Catherine and Meghan have also been adversarial when they were members of an aristocratic family, China, 7th century. They each sought power and this discord was continued in a life in Portugal when they were married and the fragment who is now Meghan abandoned the warrior due to war time activities. (Meghan was then male)

Finally, there is strong dominance on the part of Catherine who now disapproves of Meghan’s “celebrity” and is distrustful of her motives. Warrior Harry is loyal to his spouse and this loyalty was part of the motivation for the move to America.

*Dec, 2023. 

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Both Diana, Princess of Wales and Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex are emotionally centred members of a very military family where such intensity of emotional intelligence is not the norm; both Diana and Meghan are in the moving part of emotional centre. Emotionally centred persons are usually focussed in the arts, are especially gifted dancers, singers and actors; however, what each one of them is, is the most gifted empaths. This is why Diana, Princess of Wales was deemed the people’s princess. They have the ability, for being emotionally centred, to create magic – they set the tone wherever they are, make you feel loved and can quite literally heal one’s spirit. Again, this is why during the BBC engagement interview, the very astute Prince Harry stated, “And the corgis took to you straight away, for the last 33 years been barked at and this one walked in and absolutely nothing, just wagging tail…” The Queen’s corgis recognised that Meghan was an empath; it is not something that you can fake. Also, the Queen with her two 7s would have clearly discerned the truth of whom Meghan was when presented at court by Prince Harry. The Queen would have keenly taken note of the corgis reaction, she likely would have seen Meghan’s aura which emotionally centred persons can ‘broadcast’ at will. Furthermore more spectacularly than any other senior member of the royal family, Meghan has Venus/Solar body type, which is rare in the extreme. Meghan is the real McCoy!

As Meghan was not unknown to Queen Elizabeth II at heart centre that is why she was allowed to walk in alone at her wedding as a Queen, King Mother of King Henry VII returned. It was a truly millennial moment of theatre as Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex walked down the aisle unaccompanied to the quire, returned as she was as the reincarnation of Margaret Beaufort, Countess of Richmond & Derby, Tudor Matriarch, King Mother, mother of King Henry VII, grandmother of King Henry VIII and great-grandmother of Queen Elizabeth I. Children fan yourselves!

Meghan channelling Margaret Beaufort… the lighting pure sublime theatre

And how like a true Queen, Meghan walked down the aisle at St. George’s Chapel, Windsor Castle one gloriously sunny mid-May Saturday at noon, truly momentous. It was not just a royal wedding, it was the most sublime theatre. As she walked alone in the nave, there were times, as in the photo above, where she was umbraed. She was as though Margaret Beaufort being channelled in the diffused light of the veiled past, coming forth to be celebrated as having been the Tudor matriarch, affording the world not just Henry VII her son, but larger-than-life, Henry VIII and the most phenomenal Sovereign, Elizabeth I, whose namesake half a millennium later would sanction this union of two entity mates of hers. Meghan’s overleaves in this lifetime are simply wonderful, for not only is she emotionally centred, but she has the great goal of acceptance – as do King Charles & Princes William and George; incidentally, so did Diana, Princess of Wales have the same great goal. It is the feel-good, how can I be of service to you, goal. Dogs, cats and even arboreal life react positively at all times to persons in acceptance. All the lies you hear by Britons about Meghan are just Britons being horrified that this woman would be reborn Black and expect to be accepted in their kingdom. Britons have proven themselves the ugly, drunken hooligans that they truly are; after all, they are ruled by 9 – bitchy, bickering, fault-finding, negative, biting, sarcastic, bullying, xenophobic and racist. Why the fuck would Meghan ever want to set foot in that hellhole? Meghan is a Queen in acceptance and she knows her worth.

Here was The Queen dancing with Ghanaian President Kwame Nkrumah, because she was human as was he and she also knew the optics for the health of the commonwealth if she were seen to be in service to them as well and not just to the United Kingdom. Thus it was that The Queen saw the advantage to her legacy of the ably Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex and her inordinately charismatic grandson, Prince Harry, fellow entity mates carrying on that work with the commonwealth to keep the healthy relations with the Crown and making the commonwealth politically, financially, culturally viable well into the next century. Then along came Catherine, William, Charles and Camilla filled with racist venom, spite, jealousy, aggression and off to work they went trying to vilify, demonise and exile Harry and Meghan.

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Prince George of Wales 22.7.2013 Snake 4.2.8 = 5

Windsor, George 22/7/2013 London, England

Michael: This fragment is a fourth-level mature king – third life thereat.  George is in the observation mode with a goal of acceptance.  An idealist, George, at this time (December 2019) does not yet have centreing. 

George does not yet have chief features. 

George’s body type is Jupiter/Mercury and a small tertiary of Venus. 

The fragment George is fourth-cast in the seventh cadence.  George is a member of greater cadence seven.  George’s entity is five, cadre six, greater cadre 7 pod 418. 

George’s essence twin is a king – they are likely to meet at a later date and also head of state.  The task companion is a warrior. 

George’s primary needs are: expression, power, security and freedom. 

There is a facilitating agreement with the father, HRH Prince William, The Prince of Wales, for training and preparation for ‘duties’. 

There are 4 past-life associations with Arvin and 2 with Merlin.  ­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­

Past Lives of Note:

Daughter of King Henry IV (William his current father), Phillipa of England, Queen of Denmark, Norway & Sweden – co-regent.

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Prince George is a king soul, which is the most rare of souls. He is an entity mate of Prince Archie’s – they likely had an agreement to be close and a support to each other. Your chief feature and centreing are not chosen until experiencing individuation and exerting one’s will against parental imprinting – teen rebellious years. George will always be especially close to his pa, William who has an agreement to thoroughly groom him towards becoming Sovereign in due course. A Jupiter body means that he will be taller than William and likely have issues with controlling his weight; George will be prone to being massive on the order of King George IV. That George’s primary need is expression means that he will likely be focussed in the arts in some way an actor, director, voracious collector or even a painter. Certainly, he will be damn good at whatever he chooses to become focussed on creatively in due course. George is a cadre mate of Meghan, Doria, Harry, The Queen, Archie and Lilibet – regardless how much he will be groomed to shun the Sussex family, they are family at the level of kindred spirits on the order of first cousins or even closer.

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Prince Archie 6.5.2019 Pig 6.2.5 = 4

Mountbatten-Windsor, Prince Archie H. 6/5/2019

Michael: This young fragment is a seventh-level mature priest – second life thereat.  Archie is in the perseveration mode with a goal of stagnation.  A realist, Archie does not yet have a centre. 

Archie, as can be expected, does not yet have chief features. 

Archie’s body type is Venus/Mercury/Mars. 

The fragment Archie is second-cast in the second cadence.  Archie is a member of greater cadence four.  Archie’s entity is five, cadre six, greater cadre 7 pod 418. 

Archie’s essence twin is a priest and the slave task companion is likely to be known at a later date. 

Archie’s three primary needs are: exchange, acceptance and communion. 

There are 6 past-life associations with Arvin and 7 with Merlin.  ­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­

This fragment does have a facilitating agreement with the father, HRH Prince Henry, Duke of Sussex to be his son; he also has one with the artisan, his mother Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex and it is that of parent/child.  All three, along with HM, The Queen are of course cadre mates. 

We would say that this inspirational fragment is likely to have some notoriety as would be expected and can serve to inspire others to cross perceived boundaries. 

The higher ideal has to do with unification. 

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Not only are Princes George and Archie entity mates for being in the fifth (sage) entity of cadre 6 (priest) but they also have two numbers in common, 2 & 5 which has much to do with loving persons regardless of their sex. Archie, of the Michael Overleaves done of the royal family has proven the oldest soul of those done – that is saying a lot. He is an older soul than HM King Charles III. Regardless the politics, I would not be surprise if George and Archie are not reunited as adults and remain in touch; they are after all entity mates. As such, they are both cadre mates of The Queen, Doria, Prince Harry, Meghan and Princess Lilibet. No one glows more radiantly than priest souls and an older soul priest like Prince Archie will be known for his remarkable wisdom and the beauty of his eyes. This will be especially enhanced as his mum, Meghan has a goal of acceptance and is an empath for being emotionally centred. Music, yoga and wholistic living will greatly appeal to Prince Archie. He will definitely give off a zen/guru vibe in later years.

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Princess Lilibet 4.6.2021 Ox 4.1.6 = 11

Mountbatten-Windsor, Princess Lilibet Diana 4/6/2021

Michael: This young fragment is a third-level mature sage – second life thereat.  Lilibet is in observation mode with a goal of dominance and has an attitude of idealist. 

Lilibet has neither centreing nor chief features at this time. 

Lilibet’s body type is Mars/Mercury. 

The fragment Lilibet is second-cast in the third cadence.  Lilibet is a member of greater cadence four.  Lilibet is a member of entity two, cadre six, greater cadre 7, pod 418.  (Adjacent entity, same cadre as her father, mother, grandmother, brother, Prince George and The Queen). 

Lilibet’s essence twin is a sage and the task companion a warrior incarnate at this time.  

Lilibet’s needs are exchange, communion, adventure. 

She has shared 8 past-life associations with Arvin and 5 with Merlin.

There is an agreement with the older brother for emotional support.

This fragment has been a revered performer in a recent past incarnation, primarily operatic but with some aspect of light entertainment. She was also present in several lives of note in European aristocracy (Italy and Spain)

*August, 2021.             

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Doria Ragland 2.9.1956 Monkey 2.2.5 = 9

Ragland, Doria 2/9/56 Cleveland, Ohio.

Michael: This fragment is a fifth-level mature slave – second life thereat.  Doria is in the perseveration mode with a goal of dominance.  A realist, Doria is in the intellectual part of moving centre. 

Doria’s primary chief feature is impatience and the secondary, stubbornness. 

Doria’s body type is Venus/Saturn. 

The fragment Doria is fifth-cast in the second cadence.  Doria is a member of greater cadence seven.  Doria’s entity is three, cadre six, greater cadre 7 pod 418. 

Doria’s essence twin is a slave and the task companion a priest who is known to her. 

Doria’s three primary needs are: exchange, adventure and power. 

There are 5 past-life associations with Arvin and 6 with Merlin.

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As is obvious, Doria is a slave soul – the most populous soul type at 25 per cent of all souls cosmically, is a cadre mate of her daughter, Meghan, son-in-law, Prince Harry, The Queen and both grandkids, Prince Archie and Princess Lilibet. Doria, as is obvious, has rather strong overleaves and is a study of poise and graciousness and she has the same slave soul vibe as her cadre mate, Queen Elizabeth II. All these persons, The Queen, Doria, Meghan, Harry, George, Archie and Lilibet are quite familiar with each other; they would have a very rich and varied past-life history. Now it is obvious why during their BBC engagement interview, Prince Harry said of Doria, “Her mum is amazing!” And that she certainly is; Doria, it cannot be stated enough, has truly regal overleaves.

Catherine, The Princess of Wales 9.1.1982 Rooster 9.1.3 = 4

Windsor, Catherine HRH The Princess of Wales 9/1/1982

Michael: This fragment is a fifth-level mature warrior – third life thereat.  Catherine is in the perseveration mode with a goal of growth.  A pragmatist, Catherine is in the moving part of intellectual centre. 

Catherine’s primary chief feature is stubbornness and the secondary, arrogance. 

Catherine’s body type is Saturn/Mercury/Venus. 

The fragment Catherine is fourth-cast in the sixth cadence.  Catherine is a member of greater cadence one.  Catherine’s entity is four, cadre one, greater cadre 6 pod 208. 

Catherine’s essence twin is a warrior and the task companion a scholar, her husband, HRH Prince William, The Prince of Wales. 

Catherine’s three primary needs are: expansion, power and expression. 

There are 10 past-life associations with Arvin and 8 with Merlin.  ­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­

Past Lives of Note:

Michael: This warrior has held positions of influence in three past incarnations.

            1. This fragment was present at the crucifixion of Jesu and served as an apostle known as Matthew in the not entirely accurate version of early history. He was considered evangelical but in our estimation this had more to do with this early young soul’s approach to life which had little room for compromise or discussion.

            2. Present at the beginning of the Fall of Rome by the Visigoths in the 5th century. Leader of advancing forces. Second in command to the sage Alaric I. Was wounded mortally by the fragment who is now Harry, The Duke of Sussex (karma) that has not been repaid fully and is part of the current debacle.

           3. Samurai. Japan, 1650. Skilled in the art of the bow and horsemanship. Crafted sword and weaponry. Edo period. As the Samurai prestige was reduced, this warrior became a respected diplomat who was adept in contractual negotiations.

The fragment who is now Princess Lilibet was present as his wife who died in childbirth (sixth child.)

*Dec, 2023.

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Launch fire!

Of the current group of royals, Catherine, The Princess of Wales is the most phenomenally powerful. She is truly a powerhouse. As we have ten past-life associations, I dream more of Catherine than any other royal. During her prominent Roman past life, I would most likely to have known her. At the time, I served Alaric I and was instrumental in affecting the outcome of the campaign for having been the one to have invented the giant scaffolds from which catapult firebombs were launched; were it not for those structures, the sacking of Rome would not so quickly have then succeeded. I have dreamt of this tumultuous period more than once. Very intense and ridiculously lucid past-life dreams. Past-life dreams usually begin when you are caught in a flying dream, always at night time and easily at least five thousand feet above the action way below; all at once, as though an eagle going in for the kill, one zooms down into unfamiliar territory. As you move from flight to being ambulatory, one shifts from one’s waking astrally projected current persona to that of the past life being visited. You enter the body of either the male or female former self and the action unfolds over which one has no control. These are always the most exciting dreams.

Windsor walkabout

Catherine has been the catalyst for everything that has gone down in the so-called Megxit. Her powerful overleaves have meant that long before The Queen’s passing, she operated as a rouge agent. Of course, she had license to because she is future King Mother and as such, the most important member of the royal family is Prince George and that would make his mother’s womb more valuable than was The Queen’s. Camilla never factored into any of this; she bore no royal offspring. Everything that has happened has been a testament to how women are groomed from birth to be of no support to other women. Moreover, warrior and king souls are always the dominant partner in any relationship, personal or otherwise. It does go without saying that the one doing the yelling in any relationship, does not have power. Based on her soul type and her phenomenally powerful overleaves, Catherine is a far more potent and powerful human being than is William. Catherine’s numerology only adds to her power. Catherine is also well aligned with the kingdom’s psyche. She has an energy body of 9 and the UK is ruled by 9. Catherine is also in the perseverance mode, with a personal need for power.

Anyone, regardless of race, was going to have a tough go of it for having married Prince Harry. Based on their past-life history in Tonga, Harry and Chelsy would have made a formidable team; however, I rather suspect that Chelsy is also a warrior soul in her own right. Most of all, once exposed to who Catherine is, Chelsy chose not to be subjected to that archly negative, dense energy bully, to say nothing of inarticulate arachnidan bore, Catherine. Also, there is easy, breezy, wonderful lovely Cressida. If Cressida is not an artisan soul, like Diana and Meghan then I don’t know anything about the Michael Teachings. Cressida may also, like Meghan, have a goal of acceptance. Either way, forget about driving Meghan to tears, Cressida would fast become a complete basket case for having to suffer Catherine and her attack dog, William. Absolute power corrupts each human who would ever choose to pursue such an Icarian life; Catherine is no different to all who previously have so chosen and there is always a waste of bodies in their wake.

Sixth mature lives, as is William’s are all about stewardship. In his case, he follows the example of his father, King Charles III in stewardship of the environment and nature, as per his conservancy work in Africa. Sixth level lives are all about paying back karma; in the process one can, as in all lives, create karma – this he certainly has been actively engaged in doing. Of course, William has done so at the behest of his dominatrix wife and task companion, Catherine. You will reincarnate more often with your task companion and form as many life experiences as is imaginable than with any other soul. Catherine and William are as solid as it gets. For Catherine, and for that matter Harry, she is living a fifth level mature life. Mature level lives bring on the drama and that they currently do so in spades in the House of Windsor. More of the brain is used from fifth level lives onwards. One is campaigning in focus in such lives. As is obvious, the very complex and strong-willed Harry is on a campaign to avenge his mum’s abuse at the hands of his family, the press and the firm. Catherine would have been better served had she been born aristocratic like, Alice Manners. She sent William into the House of Windsor to do the heavy lifting of being born and affording her access; she wanted a female life and at the time, a female firstborn would never be Sovereign. Catherine, however, does not have the polish and class sophistication to have addressed Meghan, returning to the royal family for the third time reincarnationally. Do not ever forget that Thomas Markle Sr. admitted that Jason Knauf had him attempt to sabotage Harry and Meghan’s wedding, by way of faking a heart attack and thereby pulling out of the wedding. Everything that has occurred has been instigated by both Catherine and William. She lied via the tabloids that Meghan made her cry. She has zero fuck-all credibility. Catherine does not have cancer; it is a ruse to cover for her facelift downtime. More importantly, it allows the stigma of having been outed by Omid Scobie’s exposé as royal racist, to go away. Just as Catherine & William got Thomas Markle Sr. to fake a heart attack to sabotage Harry and Meghan’s wedding, once outed by Omid Scobie, she then fakes cancer to engineer public opinion in her favour. Crying cancer also afforded Catherine the rallying support of the idiot isle of hooligans, who readily blame Meghan for having made their mumbling heroine sick. God only knows, Catherine’s self-toxicity could not have played a role, that is, if indeed she did have cancer.

Of course, there is serious karma between Catherine and Harry, very serious and she has chosen to strike at Harry by way of cannibalising Meghan. Regardless her powerful overleaves, Harry is a blood Prince, he is also a sceptic and there is no shrewder fighter than a sceptic. Prince Philip was also a sceptic. Such persons, myself included, are able to see all sides of everything, readily know our enemy’s every weakness and will keep score and never stop until scores are settled. What Catherine and William had not anticipated was Harry’s response to their racist abuse of his wife. Harry effectively said, “My wife is my life, fucking with Meghan happens to be fucking with me. You want Meghan gone? Cool. Then go fuck yourselves. We are out of here!” No matter how the royals and their Fleet Street goons spin it, Harry’s rebuttal against Catherine was swift, thorough, eviscerating to the very core of her soul and the response that they had never contemplated. With Harry and Meghan departed the racist Guglielean court, Catherine and William are left on the backfoot, gutter sniping via Fleet Street to no effect. “I may owe you karma, but you do not go after my wife, grow a fucking pair and come for me!” For Harry, anyone fucking with Meghan, is where he goes nuclear, because it also goes to the very core of his soul and how as a warrior soul, he has been bruised at not having been able to better protect his mum, Diana, Princess of Wales when she was being ravaged by Charles, the Firm, Camilla and their Fleet Street henchmen. Meghan has the most sophisticatedly evolved of spirit overleaves of the lot of the royals. She did not come into this world to do Jerry Springer. No matter how you throw shit at her and lie, that Venus/Solar body type means that she will always outshine Catherine from here to Alpha Centauri. Healing Harry’s spirit and bringing up two emotionally grounded and loved humans is her sole agendum; beyond that, Meghan really does not have time to give a fuck. Meghan has master number 11 and two 4s, she so does not give a goddamn!

The mature soul cycle is all about high octane drama; it is where old karmic debts are finally settled so that one can move on the groovy splendour of being an old soul. All these major players of the House of Windsor are not only mature souls, but they are all related at the level of soul and have a very complex and rich past-life history, some of which include having been members of the royal family. Far be it for mere mortals to ever take anything such as spirituality and soul histories into consideration. For the truly racist boors, Catherine and William, Meghan was straight out of Compton. Meghan’s Black heritage was a non-negotiable. Adversely, William and Catherine, in general, fawn over non-Blacks as this is the current vogue in Western civilisation. And Britons are the only group of Whites who will never ever admit to being racist and to have mightily gained from the enslavement and exploitation of Meghan’s ancestors. Somehow, King Arthur, in their make believe world, merely waved his magic sword and faeries flittered about their magical isle where the kingdom was suddenly populated by castles and grand homes far and wide. Fleet Street has no other job, but to do the bidding of the senior royals: Charles and Camilla, William and Catherine. Conversely, for not having been born an aristocrat, Catherine was not an inappropriate bride for William. Indeed, classist boors notwithstanding, Catherine was born to be King Mother and that she has admirably achieved. It would also do one good to see beyond façades. Sight being the most dominant of human senses, we ever need to take the time to look callously at everyone through less myopic, jaundiced lenses. Who is this person, are they a mind set of 9 or energy body of 9? Could it be that they are a young-souled sage who happens to be a cynic with strong warrior casting, plus warrior task companion? Is this a mature or baby soul slave or just another young soul with truly fucked up overleaves? It is always good to hang back and critically listen. If one takes the time, you can glean a great deal beyond mere tangential markers like race, skin tone, body type, socio-economics. Seriously, Meghan is not a grifter, who is out to ruin Harry then divorce him for another husband. No, Meghan is a phenomenal artisan with an impeccable reincarnational royal backstory, who has the most awesome overleaves. You cannot fake Venus/Solar body type that’s coupled with being emotionally centred – The Queen’s beloved corgis attested to that. The racially predatory boors on Fleet Street do not know sweet fuck all and what they do know – the state of William and Catherine’s marriage, they will never ever divulge for fear of being ruined. Again, Catherine is as power mad as she is embarrassingly inarticulate. She is petty, vengeful, jealous and fault-finding, which is precisely why The Queen hardly ever had anything to do with her. She does not have cancer anymore than Meghan made her cry. What Catherine does have, is a newly refreshed face, looking like grandma’s doily-covered brand new Naugahyde sofa, on which positively no one is allowed to sit.

Go Harry go! Play hard and go to court and lay waste to Fleet Street like Alaric I did Rome. Harry was then present and it was at that time during battle that he mortally wounded Catherine, who of course has a score to settle. Like every human owed karma, passion more often than not gets the better of the magnetic pull of karmic bonds and before you know it, you are creating new karma, which had never been part of the original plan. In Meghan, Harry, you have a Queen, wife, lover, partner and mother to your two beautiful children, both of whom are cadre mates. In *Nacho, a man of fierce loyalty, you have a true brother, a comrade-in-arms who will never betray you; Nacho is neither interloper nor racist boor. Happy 40th Sir.

Nacho Figueras 4.3.1977 Snake 4.7.4 = 6

*Nacho is a seventh level young soul Warrior on his third life thereat. He is in the power mode and in the intellectual part of moving centre. He is kingly cast in cadence, in entity seven, cadre one, greater cadre 7, pod 414, which would make him a warrior cadre mate of Merlin and mine as we are next door in entity six of cadre one.

Sing it Frank! Happy 40th Birthday Harry, you epitomise the very best of the indomitable human spirit. Shine on!

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You are to Jazz what wings are to an ostrich; what the fuck do eagles care that queer, unaware ostriches have wings?

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©2013-2025 Arvin da Brgha. All Rights Reserved.

Bitch! I Don’t Need Fucking Gaydar!

President Obama bestows the Presidential Medal of Freedom on Vice-President Joe Biden

What you would want to do, is take you, your teeth, your crossdressing beard, take your private jet and vaffanculo in Italia. Keep the usual tumescent fare in your mouth, but do keep Biden’s name out your fucking mouth! Ton blasted cul… Lèche! As I once turned to someone at a dinner party at Les Karpinski’s Sentinel Hill home in tony West Vancouver and eloquently stated with vituperative panache, “Bitch I don’t need fucking Gaydar, I have had a life in showbiz and I am quite confidently in the know on this one.” At the time, there was discussion about the sexuality of a film actor with whom Merlin had had an affair. When I shared what I knew of said subject, I was readily dismissed by yet another pinched, bigot of the lisping and cum-farting brigade as telling tall tales. Thank you, President Biden and Dr. Jill Biden for your service to America. For five decades of the highest civilian service of putting nation above self. Love, respect and history will always honour you for what you’ve done for the American people.

Lady Naugahyde’s new Joker face

Human civilisation comprises one planet in one star system; there are no secrets. Long years ago, I briefly worked in the theatre, and a friend of Merlin’s, I came to know; contacts like these, which are all about the best gossip to be had, are most assiduously curated. I happen to know that someone whose relative is a famous international plastic surgeon, who resides in Britain, is confident that Catherine had a facelift. It goes without saying that this is woefully obvious to anyone not a somnambulant, mere mortal on the Isle of Baby Reindeer. Truly bizarre how preventative chemotherapy can leave one looking, 173 days later, on the backend of a facelift.

Alleged cancer-stricken Catherine initiates kiss with Wimbledon champ, Barbora Krejcikova

Again, please explain to me which woman having or having had chemotherapy goes about initiating kisses with strangers whilst being immunocompromised. I have friends and relatives who have been in remission for years and would never think to handshake, let alone kiss, a stranger. Of course, this is the same workshy, charlatan, liar who after claiming Hyperemesis Gravidarum was known to have jetted off to Mustique and observed frolicking in the Sun with no signs of HG.

Walking the facelift at Horse Guards Parade, 2024

Just look at her on leg one of her post royal racist PR makeover. Looking for all the world like an aggressive-pussied femme au foyer; there was fraulein Naugahyde, swishing away as though arriving for a long afternoon visit at her gynecologist’s.

Catherine, the White Queen, is NOT racist as the White tribe attests

Then here she is, the lying, vile racial predator, who not only made Meghan cry but whose pegged and bothered illegitimate husband was curtly told by Meghan, “If you don’t mind, keep your finger out of my face,” putting in her only appearance at Wimbledon, the men’s final match. Like clockwork, she came in playing shy and demure, an act that she can deftly pull off for being of 1 mindset. Such persons, myself included, are not only lone wolves, but they genuinely do not like crowds, being on and all that. However, make no mistakes about it, this was about finally vanquishing the assault by a slave’s descendant of being a racist royal. Nothing infuriates and drives Whites to ready denial than being accused of being racially predatory anti-Black racist boors. But, you are darling, all nine parts, mumbled hissing, venom and aggression. There is positively no way in high hell that had Jasmine Paolini won the women’s championship that Catherine would have initiated a kiss.

Prince Harry & Meghan, The Duke & Duchess of Sussex at the 2024 ESPYs

Of course, two days prior, an ocean away, the slithering Lady Naugahyde looked on at the ESPY Awards and the call was made to fight back. Morning, noon and all goddamn night, they weaponise the media and her racist social media sycophants to vilify, demonise and have at Meghan. How exactly does it make the mumbling bore any less inarticulate than a pretty frock and fascinator make the Beard and Merkin’s cockeyed daughter any less ugly?

Prince Harry accepts Pat Tillman Humanitarian Award on behalf of the Invictus Games Foundation

Anyway, after their weaponised Fleet Street hacks’ febrile campaign to demonise Prince Harry for being this year’s Pat Tillman Humanitarian Award recipient, there was Harry, cool, suave and slaying in his Armani suit with, Meghan, the most elegant royal bride this century by his side. Graciously, he shot back at the same Fleet Street hacks who made of Mary Tillman an identical racially predatory boor as they have coached and handsomely paid Thomas Markle Sr. to be. By acknowledging Ms. Tillman in the same breath as a reference to his elegantly ennobled mum, Diana, Princess of Wales, Prince Harry temperately told the racist royals and their weaponised press to go fuck themselves.

One only has to look at the guests in the royal box at Wimbledon, 2024 to see the inscrutable way the Waleses taunt the Sussexes with their racism. Three separate days Baroness Marie-Christine attended Wimbledon and was ever given pride of place. The plan, of course, was for Catherine not to have attended the tennis championships altogether with The Duchess of Gloucester lined up to hand out the championship awards.

Naturally, the ever predatory and jealous Catherine could not have had Sophie, The Duchess of Edinburgh do the honours as she is more senior than, Birgitte, The Duchess of Gloucester. As Sophie is blonde and far better-looking than the older minor royal, she could not be tolerated to step in for Catherine. This gives further insight to how threatened Catherine was by Meghan being so senior a royal, Black with kids whose exoticism would have been a threat to the coverage of her children.

Day 12 and Day 14 of Wimbledon championships, the dates of the men’s semi-finals and final, Prince Michael of Kent, who is 52nd in the line of succession and his unabashedly racist wife, baroness Marie-Christine were in attendance. Always they were sat in the front row of the royal box and never on the fringe seats of the royal box where consistently, Earl Snowdon, Princess Margaret’s creative son is sat each year. David Armstrong-Jones, The 2nd Earl Snowdon is 25th in the line of succession.

On day 4 of Wimbledon, the grandparents of the future Sovereign, King George VII, Catherine’s son, were sat in the royal box. There sat Carole and Michael Middleton but once in Wimbledon’s royal box, yet the entitled, pretentious boor, baroness Marie-Christine, attended twice; she is not even wedded to a minor royal of note who unlike the Duke of Kent, his brother, does more royal duties. The 2nd Earl Snowdon is seen on arrival at Wimbledon’s royal box on day 12.

On days 6 & 14 of the Wimbledon tennis championships, there were Baroness Marie-Christine’s odd-looking son with the bizarrely deep-set eyes sat in the royal box. Naturally, for the DailyFail, they got maximum coverage and as the 53rd in the line of succession’s wife is Jewish, they were treated as though, he, rather than Prince Harry, were the Sovereign’s second son. Good god there were even photos of them at their wedding. Indeed, it is not enough to lynch Meghan at every opportunity, but it is as if their Jewish princess and her coke-headed hubby deserved to be made Duke & Duchess of South Kensington and moved into the unoccupied 21-room renovated apartment, next door to apartment 1A, the Waleses’ home at Kensington Palace. Her hubby is neither 5th nor 6th in the line of succession, yet there they are given coverage as though they are regularly on tour throughout the commonwealth, in service to King and Country. To whom pray tell is this couple’s existence important in the scheme of things that it warrants multiple photos, fawning remarks, replete with a photo of their ancient wedding as though it were a true royal wedding? I suppose in due course, Peggalicious can adopt the 53rd in the line of succession as his true brother, an adopted half-brother, and create a duchy for him as is the custom for sons/brothers of the Sovereign and future Sovereign respectively.

Now to the business of royal racism and using Wimbledon’s royal box to one-up Harry & Meghan, straight on the heels of their successful appearance at the ESPYs. Day 3 saw the ever glorious Maria Sharapova & her super cool hubby, Alexander Gilkes in the royal box. Others were not so lucky, like Marvin & Rochelle Humes, Jodie Kidd, Hannah Waddington and the always intoxicating, Emma Weymouth, Marchioness of Bath. This early in the championship, the big names are not out in force; furthermore, there was no need on the part of Peggalicious to eclipse Harry & Meghan’s appearance at the ESPYs.

Day 4 saw the grandparents of the future Sovereign, King George VII, Carole & Michael Middleton. The next day, 5, saw Oscar winner, Dustin Hoffman and wife, Andrew Lloyd-Webber recently installed as a Knight of the Garter and NFL Kansas City Chiefs champion quarterback, Patrick Mahomes & wife Brittany. They did not make it to the royal box.

On day 6, the royal box began the daily parade of sports luminaries, of which there were a few. Among the attendees was Sir Ben Ainslie whose suspicious closeness with Catherine, The Princess of Wales has seen him relocate to America, supposedly in preparation of the America’s Cup; but did it require having to sell his house, too? Also, in attendance, Chris Hoy. Cricketer Ben Stokes, an exceptionally handsome human and wife, Clare Ratcliffe. Gareth Edwards, Skater Jayne Torville along with Christopher Dean – not featured herein, Jos Buttler with wife. Rugby champion, Lawrence Dallaglio also in the royal box. Tennis great Mark Philippoussis also on day 6. Lastly, Peter Fleming was sat in the royal box.

Day 8 saw an actual royal in the royal box, Prince Albert II of Monaco with a female relative. Actor & philanthropist Lenny Henry with partner and Oscar winning actor, Mark Rylance all occupied the royal box.

Day 9th at Wimbledon saw the 28th in the line of succession, Lady Sarah Chatto and husband, Daniel Chatto. Michael McIntyre & Stephen Fry held court in the royal box. Also, in the royal box were Princess Beatrice & Edoardo Mapelli-Mozzi who’s commendably effected the princess’ blooming empowerment. On Stephen Fry’s other side was American actor, Lena Dunham. The other luminary couple in the royal box, actress Sienna Miller and beau, Oli Green.

Day 11 and the Wimbledon royal box was well attended. Queen Camilla & her handsome sister, Annabel Elliot sat front and centre at the ladies semi final matches. Also present was Bjorn Ulvaeus of ABBA fame attended. Camilla was sat between her sister and Deborah Jevans. Jemima Khan and actor Richard E. Grant were sat behind statesman, William Hague. After having been dumped by his wealthy sugar mama, Lindsay, Peter Phillips and his rebound fuck du jour were also present in the royal box. The Archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby and his spouse were also spotted in SW19. Elusive actor Keira Knightley attended with her rock musician hubby. Former Governor of Bank of Canada and Bank of England, Mark Carney attended and chatted with William Hague.

On day 12, the men’s semi final, Annabel Goldsmith held court; she is the mother of Jemima Khan and Zac Goldsmith who also attended, same day as his mum and not the day prior along with his sister. Elisabet Ebenstein accompanied the dry-witted actor, Hugh Grant. Edward Norton attended with his mum, as did actor Rami Malek attend with his mum-in-law. Shirley Bassey was wrapped in a shawl. Birgitte, The Duchess of Gloucester was present; I don’t believe that I’ve ever seen, Prince Richard, The Duke of Gloucester, her spouse, in attendance at Wimbledon. Actor Stanley Tucci attended along with Tristram Hunt. The men’s semi-final was fantastically gripping.

Day 13 and the ladies championship. The young Black Italian, automatically precluded Catherine putting in an appearance. Win or lose, she was not prepared to go handshaking or make like nice to another Black female tennis player, in this case, Jasmine Paolini, who frankly choked for making it to the big time.

My lovely sister, Pandora da Brgha, her hubby, James van Hammer and our doctor niece, Edwina de Lavallée, who jetted in from New York City attended the ladies final at SW19. Persons who attended but were not in the royal box: Zendaya, looking as ever chic and elegant. Also, in attendance was actor, Pierce Brosnan who made a rather commanding 007 in his heyday. I am not certain if Tom Cruise was sat in the royal box that day, though, he definitely was the day following. Hugh Jackman was sat with the ravishing Kate Beckinsale, who days later demanded that that little twat, Lady Windsor, the royal kiss-ass and Middleton lapdog, retract an article in the DailyFail, in which the lying guttersnipe and anti-Black racist with an arch animus against Meghan, was called out for telling lies on the actress, Ms. Beckinsale. The Fleet Street vermin never learn. Also, in the royal box were broadcaster, Trevor McDonald and entertainer, Cliff Richard. Back for more, was actor, James Norton, looking less formal than the day prior. Lastly, in the royal box were Darcey Bussell one of the Royal Ballet’s true gems of her generation and fellow dancer, Johannes Radebe.

Carlos Alcaraz & Novak Djokovic

Finally, day 14, men’s championship; sadly, Carlos Alcaraz’s good luck charm, King Felipe VI was not present. Over the years, I have come to truly love Novak Djokovic, despite his vaccine politics. Myself, owing to my spouse being 24/7 on oxygen, we both have to get the latest Covid shot and I wear multiple masks at all times when out my front door. So no more annual subscriptions to the BOTS – Ballet, Opera Theatre & Symphony, but I will make the odd exception then take every possible precaution; the alternative is simply not an option.

Catherine looked sensational in one of the two official Wimbledon colours. The gold earrings beautifully complemented the purple dress. There was one odd moment where, when briefly in closeup, her mouth did this involuntary square smile, which she neurotically covered by abruptly collapsing her mouth shut. This sort of quirk, I have witnessed after persons have recently had work done when the new tautness results is muscle twitches as the new normal is being adjusted to.

On the final day, the royal box was flushed with powerful guests. After the Sussexes triumph at the ESPYs, you knew that the Waleses would respond. Catherine was accompanied by Princess Charlotte, who like her mother seems to be a warrior soul. Warriors and King souls are always the dominant partner in any relationship/dynamic. Future Sovereign or not, Catherine’s overleaves validate her being the dominant partner in their relationship in this incarnation; William and Catherine are, after all, task companions. Though she has always reminded me of Wallis Simpson, you first have to die before reincarnating; that rules out Pippa Middleton-Matthews having been Wallis Simpson in her immediate past life, the latter passed in 1986 whilst the former reincarnated in 1983. Really good to see Andre Agassi at the men’s final. I remember when his rock star vibes ruled at the SW19. Julia Roberts was a big get for the royal box; this only validates the BAFTA president, Prince William, The Prince of Wales, using his clout to try and show up the Sussexes. Does he not realise that Julia grew up knowing Martin Luther King Jr.’s family and would never countenance the anti-Black racism that the Waleses make no bones about projecting to the world, despite their denials. Tom Cruise was definitely in the royal box on the final day of Wimbledon. Benedict Cumberbatch and his wife were also sat in the royal box on the Wimbledon’s final day. Rod Laver, the Australian tennis maverick was present; good to have seen him.

Supremacist Baroness Marie-Christine’s relations

As ever, the royal family’s racist Baroness Marie-Christine and her gang were in full force, acting as though they were senior working royals. Then again, their presence was all about taunting Harry and Meghan; never forget how utterly obsessed, racist and petty William and Catherine are with Harry and Meghan. Finally, it is always good to see London mayor, Sadiq Khan, who thankfully is not a chav-like, blasted buffoon like a predecessor of his, who whored as Prime Minister in a bid to keep up support payments for his brood with multiple women.

That’s right, Peggalicious, losers never win and “never coming home” proved true of the UEFA trophy and Prince Harry, who made it perfectly clear that he has no intentions of bringing Meghan and his children back to Britain anytime soon. Indeed, congratulations to HM King Felipe VI and the Spanish football team for having won the 2024 UEFA Championship trophy.

Prince Harry Tabloids on Trial ITV Documentary, July 2024

Despite Harry making it perfectly clear during a sit down interview for ITV’s documentary, Tabloids on Trial, which aired on July 25, 2024, the tabloids still cakewalk as though, they had no knowledge of the documentary.

Fabricated headline based nowhere in either fact or reality

Furthermore, as though Prince Harry is not now engaged in legal proceedings against the Daily Mail, they persist with attacking and lying about both him and his wife. Meghan’s numerology is 4.3.4 = 11. There is nothing wishy-washy about this woman; for Meghan, no means “fuck off, you are dead to me.” Of course, the next day, DailyFail then published an article that Catherine was going to be able to spend the long summer spell at Balmoral Castle. This suggests two things: her cancer treatment is going splendidly and more importantly, the Sussexes are snubbed because they cannot be allowed to be around Catherine after the ‘negress’ had speciously alleged that there were racist concerns about Archie’s skin tone and what that would mean and look like for the royal family. Catherine has never had cancer and this was used for two reasons, to eclipse her revelation as one of two royal racists and to allow her plastic surgery procedures results to fully heal.

Never forget that Charles will never forgive Meghan for having outed him as one of the two royal racists – which eventually Omid Scobie in Endgame did, during her sit down interview in March, 2021 with Oprah. This is why when The Queen passed, Meghan was not allowed to attend Balmoral, why she was not invited to Charles’ coronation and why he will never see her blasted little pickaninnies. Charles is a fucking petty, vindictive, racist boor. Above all else, we Blacks know that you can never, ever expect Whites not to be White. Omid is truly commendable in having exposed the two royal racists’ names. After all, Prince Harry chose to backtrack and state during his ITV interview with Tom Bradby at the press rounds of SPARE that his family perhaps unknowingly suffered from unconscious bias. Well, thank goodness Omid cleared that up for Harry and Meghan in Endgame, leaving no doubts as to whom those royal racists are, Charles and Catherine; of course, they can hardly be expected to be the only members of the House of Windsor who are anti-Black racist boors.

As predictable as flies on shit, along comes another Meghan thrashing in that shit-stained Fleet Street cumrag, DailyFail, gloating over the fact that the royals yet again have not wished Meghan a happy birthday. Master numbered persons are thoroughly dismissive of persons who do not count for fuck all, Meghan included. Next day, along comes yet another article, crowning the racist baroness Marie-Christine’s daughter-in-law for her birthday. Of course, said article also had throwback photographs of her wedding in a dress that looked like cheap silk curtains that are usually seen in photographs with linoleum-covered floors. Even on her birthday, there was our darling princess on the cover of Tatler – that ode to White classist British snobbery, being celebrated for her desirability over the likes of the American whose birthday it was the day prior. You certainly won’t be hearing Chelsea Handler, Bethenny Frankel, Sharon Osborne, Angela Levin, et al, bitching with unbridled hatred about how the untrustworthy bitch, whom they do not like, is not deserving.

Prince Andrew, The Duke of York

Let’s be very clear, the House of Windsor principals, Charles and William are letting the world know that they do not give a fuck about being perceived as anti-Black racists. By parading baroness Marie-Christine, she of the blackamoor brooch and the two black ewes named, Venus and Serena, they are telling the world that being anti-Black racist is not an issue. After all, this is a world where Apartheid existed in South Africa and the racism in Britain, from the ’70s riots in Brixton to the current racist attacks, the Sovereign(s) have not part lips, thereby showing their firm resolve that they do not give a living fuck. Tough! The fact of the matter is that Prince Andrew has all but been rendered invisible; he is not allowed to public functions as his exposed paedophilia is a source of embarrassment. More importantly, Andrew cannot be allowed to provoke the public’s wrath as to do so, will get people starting to talk about Charles’ association with Jimmy Savile, Gary Glitter and others who were/are known paedophiles. Mere mortals are readily played but parading racist baroness Marie-Christine and her ‘exceptional’ actress daughter-in-law who with her offspring were not problematic for the House of Windsor. Never mind that her kids are right little gubbiloutettes*, she is paraded front and centre and in the company of senior most royals as Charles, William and their spouses let the world know that they do not give a fuck about Blacks being butt hurt by their racism. Go fuck yourself is there staged response. Baroness Marie-Christine and her daughter-in-law do not end up at Wimbledon more than any other royals in the royal box in 2024, then turn up on the cover of Tatler if it were not sanctioned by Charles and William. William, of course, was quickly shielded way back when, as it emerged that he was doing cocaine in the company of baroness Marie-Christine’s son!

William & his horribly scraggly beard

Go on, you two, go out of your way to spite Meghan even more, by making your darling Jewish princess, The Duchess of South Kensington. If only one would read the fucking planet because in this post-October 8, 2023 paradigm, no one, having seen what – thanks to social media being at the epicentre of genocide, we have borne witness to, have long ago ditched what was a most suffocating jaundiced status quo. Go on, as Olivier a Montréal friend always sarcastically said in imitation of Oprah of Hollywood and its Brahminism, “You get an award! You get an award! You get an award!” Blasted murderous thugs.

Never mind Tom Cruise, what has Catherine had done to her face?

Again, please explain why this tactic was not taken on Catherine’s return after 173 days. There was that photo in Berkshire where her face was unusually bloated. At that time or since, any number of plastic surgeons could have been employed by the Fleet Street thugs and done an honest assessment of what work Catherine had done and by a number of leading plastic surgeons.

Instead, we keep to the line that she has cancer; of course, Tom Cruise can also be savaged as he is, after all, a mere Yank at the end of the day. I will say this much, as is clearly obvious, no amount of plastic surgery ever succeeds in glossing over the look of a hard-faced drunk. For her petty, racist obsessive grudge, which clearly extends beyond Meghan to now include Blake Lively, you can never fathom how petty these senior royals are.

Blake Lively for having provoked the wrath of the royals and their Fleet Street thugs, has found herself in hot water. Of late, she has been character assassinated, on a daily basis, with the DailyFail going to great lengths to show what a dishonorable person she is; all this because she made a quip about Catherine, The Princess of Wales when she was in hiding recovering from her facelift and not cancer as they have speciously alleged – there is no such damn thing as preventative chemotherapy. Let’s face it the House of Windsor has for generations had serious credibility issues.

She said what the hell she said and there is no reason for her to have turned around and obsequiously apologised when Britons do not give a goddamn about ‘Yanks’ and are having quite a go at eviscerating Blake’s character. Look at the campaign by British tabloids to have Blake cancelled for having given offence to their boring, inarticulate princess whom they damn well know does not have cancer but had a facelift and they fully understand, it was all a PR stunt. Blake is American, a proud self-made one at that; why should she be lynched by racist boors whom Americans defeated near 250 years ago. All this BS because the Waleses are toxic bullies and vindictive in the extreme. This headline is precisely why Blake’s SM presence is being swarmed by legions of royalist zombies hurling abuse at her. Don’t they realise that Blake is a core friend of Taylor Swift’s and her husband Ryan Reynolds will scrap with anyone in defense of his wife?

Farcical Misogynoir hatemongers

The Misogynoir Hatemongers’ Ball, an affair about as socially relevant as Pluto is to Sol. They peddle in lies, anti-Black racism and hatred and vilification of the first Black woman who broke a glass ceiling, in this case, marrying and bearing two children to the son of the Sovereign. Naturally, their stock in trade is to deny the existence or the legitimacy of Harry and Meghan’s children. Meghan for these vile trolls is no different to Michelle Obama, Dr. Jocelyn Elders, Vanessa Williams, Kamala Harris, Oprah Winfrey and many others. They are all firsts in their own right as Black women and for that, they are reviled, and no end of hatred and lies are told about them all. As Merlin said of bad productions like that masquerading on YouTube and elsewhere, “They may think it’s theatre but it is no more than farce!” Just look at it, lady my ass… Bitch you neither bleed nor breed!

Jumbie Fire

When I was a child growing up in St. Kitts with its French, English and most definitely mysterious African influences, there was the most fascinating event that occurred when I was an eight-year old boy full of laughter and most lucid dreams. A family which had relatives in the U. S. Virgin Islands and travelled there from time to time, then received a parcel, at the holidays as one does. These parcels are seen as major status symbols. Well, the most fascinating spectacular soon befell that family. At all hours of the day and with no regularity, there would be screams from the house and clothing and suitcases, thrown from the house into the yard. They would be ablaze with the most white-hot looking blue-white flame. The flames had the most peculiar smell, which I have never smelt since; oddly enough, the flames made no sound. The flame would last for several minutes soothing up the item(s) aflame and then abruptly the pyrotechnical oddity would suddenly cease with an abrupt plopping out of existence. There were times even whilst fully clothed, the family members would be set ablaze. As school children, my chums and I could not wait for recess to rush across the street and take in the spectacle of the jumbie fire*. There was no getting around the fact that there were unseen forces at such times when the flames were active. This only ever occurred within the confines of the family’s home and property. Then at the exact six-month anniversary, the ‘obeah*’ induced jumbie fires simply stopped. During the course of that time, the family lost its status with at least one member fleeing the island and going off (going crazy). The tale was that the family had provoked someone’s wrath and as a result they were obeahed and that was that. For these vile racist trolls, who relentless lie and racially prey on Harry and Meghan, what a pity that Meghan’s maternal family were not West Indians…

So you know that Catherine and William are nasty people, there was Catherine in Soho on the eve of the coronation, familiarly speaking for long minutes and taking selfies with the subject on the far right in the photograph taken at the hatemongers’ ball. That troll spends night and day online, inciting anti-Black racism against Meghan, which like all cowardly racist Whites, will be readily denied as having any basis in racism and besides they always have some fucking absurd anecdotes about their Black friends and, of course, like Blacks for Trump, they’ll always be some self-loathing fool glad to be within the clique by hating Meghan even more vociferously than most. William made an attempt to have Catherine stop speaking to said troll and move along. Finally, when the Waleses were returned to the Range Rover – duct taped sideview mirror and all – as they began pulling away, William could be heard reaming Catherine as she looked out the window, doing her usual, “Fuck you, I’m a rich White girl and I don’t give two fucks,” rictus smile. The photos were captured from TikToker London City Walks livestream that day. All those professional trolls are a testament of just how much we Blacks are obsessively stalked and hated by the racial predator. I cannot think of anything more base a displacement of humanity than to make money off someone you actively hate with consuming ugliness of spirit. Truly, not fit to piss on… except on their graves.

Kamala Harris

Well, will you look at that. Perhaps, in the pre-October 8, 2023 paradigm, Kamala Harris would feel obliged to choose Josh Shapiro as her running mate. Of course, from the word go, the misogynoir surfaced, with the same accusations as levelled at Meghan being regurgitated about Kamala. Then there was the all-out racist vitriol in the comments at English language Israeli newspapers online. The usual canards were ubiquitous: she is an anti-Semite. We know the Blacks hate us. We are all voting for Trump. Well, if you are going to be so selective, could it just be that Harris and Shapiro simply would never get along? Oxes (Josh) and Dragons (Kamala, and Walz, for that matter) do not make good business partners of any kind; their numerology is also at odds.

Joan Rivers Lies about Michelle Obama

Oldest trick in showbiz, as Merlin would say, how does a Jew be racist towards Blacks? Tell a lie and make a joke of it, “ha ha ha” and readily one is believed and, of course, it is true. Well, there is the little wingless monkey from The Wizard of Oz, rotting in hell and ugly the fuck as ever. Go fuck yourself, racist gilt! That, and never having found the time to pull a second best actress Oscar from high up your ass to award a Black actress, couldn’t possibly be reasons enough why Shapiro is not on the ticket.

Racist Briton not voting for Kamala. Truly shocked…

Treat people like shit, being racist boors and expect them to either forget or suffer you… In what world, pray tell, would this even make sense? Seriously, how does your boohoo grudge even matter? 70% of the American electorate, you are not. Straightaway, the markets went into freefall, and did anyone even give two fucks? It is after all SOP. The ugly grudge behind Joan Rivers’ ‘joke’ is that Michelle Obama, like Meghan is a Black woman and first – first Black First Lady and first Black to marry the Princely son of a then future Sovereign, and for that on this planet, she will be the subject of the most virulent misogynoir.

Vanessa Williams, first Black Ms. U.S.A winner, 1984

Just look at what happened with another first, Vanessa Williams. Vanessa having been the first Black Miss U.S. A. had to be cancelled. Her victory was an affront, and by whatever means, she had to be disgraced and fall from her Icarian heights. Near the end of her reign as Miss U. S. A., Penthouse magazine published nude photographs of Ms. Williams, which were grounds enough for her to have relinquished her title and be disgraced. Had this ever happened to any of her predecessors? Of course not. Had any of her predecessors modelled in the nude prior to having been crowned? This very likely had been the case, but there was no scandal to be had in thusly exposing a White Miss U.S.A. Penthouse publishing the photographs, was about letting Vanessa Williams know that all she was, was a cheap whore and not deserving of the Miss U. S. A. title.

Kamala, Meghan, Vanessa, Michelle Obama and many others, including Oprah. They will always racially prey on these trailblazing Black women and lynch them in the media and by any means necessary, especially if they can do so via sexual scandal. That is the ugliness of misogynoir. Another trailblazing Black woman is Dr. Jocelyn Elders; she was appointed by President Clinton as the first Black female Surgeon General of the United States and only the second woman. Her appointment was seen as controversial. Everything this woman said was met with consternation and ridicule as though she were an uneducated, unqualified, unemployed woman from the sticks, who had been appointed to the job as a prank. Eventually, Dr. Elders had to resign because of her comments on masturbation. It is not just a matter of NIMBY (not in my neighbourhood), but it simply is a matter of being lynched and disgraced for having made it into the history books. Of course, we are today arrived at a chilling moment where racist boors like that homo-repressed jackass, Ron DeSantis go around banning Black books and there is a White tribal campaign that would like to remove Black history from the American education system altogether. Please then stop insulting us by squatting all over Jazz; positively nothing is more repugnant than having Black culture thusly violated.

Jeremy Clarkson incites anti-Black racism against Meghan

Another example of DailyFail’s relentless campaign to defame and incite racial animus against Meghan. Jeremy Clarkson, that ugly racist White male asshole, launches a second attack on Meghan, criticising her baby shower in New York – five years on, and positively every comment becomes an excuse for racist mere mortals to rabidly regurgitate lies and indulge in racist animus towards Meghan, the Black woman who dared to shatter the mythos of their princely fairytale.

Harry, Meghan & The Queen royal ascot, June 2018

No assholes, the baby shower was a way to escape the surveillance and racially predatory hellhole of courtiers and the Waleses so that plans could be put in motion – one always needs a Plan B when possessed of master numbers. Clearly, for Meghan, the experience of life at court was insufferable. The Queen did as much as she could; however, both The Queen and The Sussexes knew that there was no getting around Charles and William when she was fast en route to the crypt at St. George’s Chapel. Like a true entity mate, The Queen knew the wisdom in bestowing her blessing on The Sussexes’ union, because with little time left her, there could be no lengthy courtship. The Queen knew that were she to die, neither Charles nor William would have sanctioned the marriage of Harry and Meghan.

Pimped by gangsta playa, Snoop Dogg

So many moons later, just look at the desperate for approbation, “we are very much not a racist family” go out and lasso Snoop Dogg. Do these clowns not realise that their racism is an open secret in Hollywood, Black Hollywood most of all? Baldy tryin’ to flex and as ever, coming up short. They are racist boors and people never forget the way you made them feel or the wrong you did to them and continue to as you persist with pimping out your Fleet Street whores on the Sussexes.

Ms. Thiel’s log cabin hussy, never goes tricking without her Maybelline

Goddamn those log cabin Christian Nationalist Fascists; first they wanted closeted Mike Pence a heartbeat from the Presidency. Now, they want this pretty-eyed crossdresser with eyeliner like Elizabeth Taylor’s on the ticket. Certainly, he is not gonna set off Gaydar before November 5. What this log cabin madness has brought to the surface, is the abiding open racial animus from White Gays towards Blacks. Naturally, as Kamala did not choose Pete Buttigieg, White Gays have been pissed. Twice I was openly verbally attacked in the Gay Village for merely being on the sidewalk with my bike en route to or from a store. Come 2025, I hope that director, John Waters is able to convince J. D. Vance to star as Martha in a crossdressing musical remake of Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? Kamala could not for being Black and female have chosen Buttigieg as a running mate. She would readily lose centrist, Christian voters for whom Gay marriage, lifestyles and politics are a compromise that they are not able to morally address as open-minded as they see themselves.

Lena Horne Believe in Yourself 1981 Tony Awards

Another incident occurred post-Kamala’s campaign kickoff, which coincided with the 77th anniversary of Merlin’s birth, as I stood in line waiting my turn at the depanneur. Without fail, bigots emboldened by whatever they’ve seen and said on social media or on TV, they head out into the world intent on being racially predatory. Sure enough, along came Karen number 1 billion, 8 hundred million, five hundred thousand and sixty-one; just shy of six feet, she vulgarly barked down at me, “Look buddy, I was in the line first, get out of my spot!” Slowly, I turned and looked, “Yeah you, I’m talking to you!” Naturally, as she is White cisfemale, no one said fuck all, which made it my turn. “Bitch your ass is flat for a fucking reason, go the fuck home and take more cock up your fucking flat ass. Do I look like I just ate a goddamn Rodney King sandwich for fucking lunch?” Born a West Indian, I rudely sucked teeth at her and soon it was my turn to ring in my purchases. Her little scene not quite going as she had intended, the racist boor began baying blah, blah, blah, over which I loudly drowned her out by reworking the lyrics with a coloratura coda of vocalese, “What a little sunshine wouldn’t do….”

Spiritual lightsabres and music to keep chakras, aura centred & fortified

The Asian male cashier, acting as though the vituperative contretemps had not occurred, nervously said hello then graciously wished me a good day, as I took leave – you’re damn right, it was a fucking good day. Every goddamn day I head out my art-filled home, I will experience racial aggression in varying degrees of intensity; that is simply the state of the world and both a world and personal truth. I am also acutely aware that every goddamn day on this planet, White males in alarming numbers are on every continent, having sex with minors without little to no repercussions or media the world over addressing this sexually predatory pandemic. Somehow, this 5’4″ Afro-Sephardic Queen is being treated as though I had just humped that lunatic racist boor’s fucking chihuahua. Da fuck? Thus, I came home and had Lena Horne’s magic repel that low-vibrational ghoul and her hideously dense energy the fuck off my aura.

Charlie Drinkwater & Doug Wilson, 1977

Charlie Drinkwater and Doug Wilson were two of the most gloriously idyllic friends and lovers from my youth. I met Charlie when I would sneak off to The Quest disco on Yonge Street after studying at the Metropolitan library on Yonge at Asquith, I would then hightail it down to Yonge and Hayden Streets, where I danced my heart out oftentimes with Charlie. They were the loving and most nurturing role models of mine. I was not yet eighteen, when I met Charlie and years later, I would meet Doug in about 1985.

Toronto Reference Library

Doug came to a garden party at our Cabbagetown home with a mutual friend, who had actually set up Merlin and me on the blind date that started it all. Doug and I looked into the other’s soul, said hi, kissed, purred and our past-life bond was reaffirmed. Charlie was the first person whom I kissed who smoked cigarettes; it took some getting used to. Charlie loved foreplay and a super kisser of the rarest kind, he certainly was. Doug was the most flagrantly idealistic, gentle-souled lover imaginable. It goes without saying that he is an entity mate with whom I have shared many past lives, our late 20th century encounter being the 36th, which is a lot. Charlie and I were sharing our 19 reincarnational association in fin de siècle Toronto. Charlie, like Doug, is an artisan soul in my entity. Doug and I had a robust, casual sexual relationship, which was always about the most soul-soothing intimacy imaginable. They protected me and watched out for me in a way that was not commonplace in the Gay community. They made me feel at home by having me contribute to their passionate activism by helping to make posters for the marches and demonstrations. Also, among my role models was the actor, Errol Ramsay; the Bajan was the sweetest most kindhearted human imaginable. Thus, quite jarring it has been for me with all these persons long passed of AIDS, to currently experience the open racist hatred from twentysomething and thirtysomething White Gays.

Two days running as I did errands on my bike, I was accosted by tall aggressive bottom-looking White Gays who predatorily approached me as I rode on my bike. One told me to get the hell off the sidewalk and out of the neighbourhood. The day following, the three Gays who likely lived in the Vaseline Tower in which the depanneur is situated, aggressively made for me. One of them shoved his hand in my face as I hopped on the bike to ride it off the sidewalk. It is a very wide sidewalk and there was no one save the three of them and a few others coming towards me, and at a distance to the three Gays’ rear. “Get off the fucking sidewalk!” There was so much hatred in his tone; of course, I knew that it likely was rage at Kamala Harris not having chosen Pete Buttigieg as her running mate, Ducking my head as his right index finger came at me, I broke and hopped off my bike, and shot back. “Yeah, you want some, come on, you fucking backward-pussied, ass-eating cunt! Come on!” “Keep off the fucking sidewalk,” he shot back as they kept walking away. As though he so much as owned the damn sidewalk. “Trump’s gonna win and too bad for you,” called the blond in the middle. “Becky shut the fuck up and crawl the fuck back in your Vaseline log cabin,” I called after them as they kept walking away. The level of animus and racist aggression has since July 21, when President Biden stepped aside, is palpable; I cannot begin to imagine what it must be like in America.

Winter Moon

Serigraph

32 x 32 Inches

Artist Proof: II/III

©2023 Susan A. Point

Provenance: da Brgha Collection.

Before he passed last August, my oldest friend and lover requested that I purchase a First Nations piece that I could use when meditating and on reflecting on his life and our abiding love. Sweet and blissful dreams my darling.

*Gubbiloutette – unfortunate looking. (Posh patois of creole origin; St. Kitts was both a French and English island).

*Jumbie fire – Jumbie is patois for ghost or occult/obeah phantoms.

*Obeah – patois for voodoo, the occult, sorcery.

Modern Jazz Quartet North Sea Jazz Festival 1982

Modern Jazz Quartet grooving the souls of the spiritually evolved.

Percy Heath – Bass

John Lewis – Piano

Milt Jackson – Vibraphone

Connie Cay – Drums

____________________________________________________

You are to Jazz what wings are to an ostrich; what the fuck do eagles care that queer, unaware ostriches have wings?

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©2013-2025 Arvin da Brgha. All Rights Reserved.

Redux: The Dreamer Awakens…

Shaman’s Staff

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.

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

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©2013-2025 Arvin da Brgha. All Rights Reserved.

Theft of the American Crown Jewels…

These are America’s Crown Jewels.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Broadway Actor, Audra McDonald

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

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

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

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

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

Perception Is All.

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

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

Queen Elizabeth II Sharing Racist Anecdote

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

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

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

Just look at her! Couchon…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Warriors of the High Country

Oil on Canvas

24 x 20

©2008 James Ayers

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

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

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

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

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

Samara Joy – Vocals

Ben Paterson – Piano

Felix Moseholm – Bass

Evan Sherman – Drums

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

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

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©2013-2025 Arvin da Brgha. All Rights Reserved.

Oh To Be Black & Jew

Al Jolson giving possible birth to the notion that Jazz has its roots in Klezmer.

Al Jolson Singing Mammy!

Though someone’s perception of you is no damn business of yours, it does though matter when it is a whole people’s deliberate intention to demonise, vilify and portray a people as goddamn fools.

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At the time of Henry and Meghan’s royal wedding, there was a dearth of Jews commenting on social media about their union. There were no Jewish celebrities opining about how they thought that it was great that an American, an American actress was marrying into the royal family. Nothing. Zilch. Nada. There is more to discern in people’s silence than in exactly when they are silent.

The Woman Is Fucking Nuts. Who Can Possibly Find This Remotely Appealing.
Mic Drop President Barack H. Obama

Sorry Sweetheart, you are an inarticulate, embarrassment. STFU and STFD, Basta!

Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge/Princess of Wales by Paul Emsley National Portrait Gallery London 2012

Now that the Sussexes, Henry & Meghan, have massively succeeded in articulating their truth in the Netflix and Archewell Productions co-production, which to date has had 241 million viewing hours, the dynamic has shifted. The war campaign has now entered a new phase. To date, it has been the toxic Royal Rota hacks and their plants/sympathisers in America who have been flapping their dirty yaps at Meghan’s expense. All the lies that they have hammered away at the low-browed, knuckle-dragging cultist of the island kingdom have been exposed to Americans and the rest of the world.

Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge/Princess of Wales Wearing Jenny Packham in Jamaica, March 2022.

Just look at this 9 energy-bodied, self-toxic boor; she is vile. Most of all, she is the most inarticulate, mumbling, sarcastic, bitchy socially displaced moron imaginable. Let me make it perfectly clear, you think it nothing to abuse Meghan to the nth degree because she, after all, is just a mere goddamn nigger – let’s get real. Well guess what idiots, ever will I be most fuck-all indefatigable in defending Meghan’s honour. All of this for the simple fact that she is a Black woman. There is no greater symbol of structural racism than the British institution of monarchy.

The Crypt Dweller Giving Her First Speech As A Royal & Desperately Trying To Sound A Right Toff

The United Kingdom’s recent half millennium was caught up in the savage pillage of empire from the Orient, across Africa to the Caribbean and North America at the heart of that vast imperial expansion was slavery, cheap dehumanised labour, to get sugar, cotton, spices and all manner of commodities back to the heart of the empire, London. Catherine, to be fair, dresses up nicely but beyond that, she is a hollow, burnt out, inarticulate, mumbling, blasted embarrassment.

Here is the mumbling inarticulate self-toxic, 9 energy body boor, trying to look professional and upping her game in 2021 after Meghan had breezed through and showed this bit of sodden cardboard, who seemed to think that she was being cast for the role of Sleeping Beauty, how it’s done.

Windsor, Diana, Princess of Wales  July 1/1961<O>August 31/1997.

Michael: The fragment who was Diana Frances is a second level mature artisan and was in the passion mode with a goal of acceptance, a pragmatist in the moving part of emotional centre. 

She had a Lunar/Mercury body type. 

Diana’s primary chief feature was stubbornness with a secondary, not of self-destruction but of self-deprecation. 

Diana Frances was first-cast in her cadence and her cadence is fifth in the greater cadence.  She is a member of entity one, cadre six, greater cadre 48, pod/node 380. 

This fragment’s essence twin is a discarnate artisan and her task companion is a discarnate sage, both of whom are staying near her, waiting for her to become oriented to her situation. 

Here we had an artisan with drama in her casting but also with a very deep need to serve both the common and the higher good, which she did with grace, charm and a good deal of conviction.

*One of the reasons why Diana, Princess of Wales felt so out of her depth amongst the royal family, is because she is from pod 380, most of the senior royals are all from the 400 series pods. She would have felt just as isolated as Meghan for being Black in a milieu where structural racism is deeply entrenched.

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The fact is, the roles of these persons are deftly validated by their behaviour and the choices that they have made to date. Diana, Princess of Wales was shy and guarded at the start of her reign as the most loved woman on the planet; however, when she found her feet, she was unsurpassed. Diana was an early mature soul artisan. Artisan souls bring a certain magical je ne sais quoi to whatever they are focussed, especially most alluringly so when female. Prime examples of artisan souls with this glamour effect and also persons who can magically articulate the message are: Marilyn Monroe, Martha Graham, Evelyn Hart, Whitney Houston, Ella Fitzgerald, Naomi Campbell, Judith Jamieson, Annette Bening, Billie Holiday and Natalie Cole. All these female performers add great death, delicacy, eloquence and beauty to their art, regardless the medium. The reason why Catherine does not have the charm and charisma that was Diana, Princess of Wales’s is because she is a warrior soul; besides her overleaves do not lend themselves to being soft and alluringly charismatic.

Windsor, Meghan HRH Duchess of Sussex 4/8/1981

Michael: This fragment is a mid-cycle mature artisan in the tradition of the deceased mother fragment who was Diana, Princess of Wales — third life thereat.  Meghan is in the observation mode with a goal of acceptance.  An idealist, Meghan is in the moving part of emotional centre. 

Meghan’s primary chief feature is self-deprecation and the secondary of mild impatience. 

Meghan’s body type is Venus/Solar. 

The fragment Meghan is fourth-cast in the fifth cadence.  Meghan is a member of greater cadence four.  Meghan is a member of entity one, cadre six, greater cadre 7, pod 418 — she is an entity mate of both her spouse, HRH Prince Henry Duke of Sussex with whom she shares 20 past lives and also an obvious entity mate of Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II. 

Meghan’s essence twin is an artisan and the task companion a warrior. 

Meghan’s three primary needs are: expression, acceptance and expansion.

There are 4 past-life associations with Arvin and 6 with Merlin. 

Incidentally, this artisan has been a member of the British royal family twice before.  Firstly, as Margaret Beaufort, Countess of Richmond and Derby, she was the cousin of King Henry VI and mother of King Henry VII.  As such she was the matriarch of the House of Tudor.  Her grandson was Henry VIII and her great-granddaughter, Elizabeth I. 

This artisan in that lifetime was involved in the sacraments of the church, being included in the newly established college system.  She founded Christ College, Cambridge and was instrumental with the founding of St. John’s College as well. 

Secondly, she was HRH Prince Edward, Duke of York and Albany and younger brother to George III, whose father the Prince of Wales, HRH Prince Frederick died before ascending the throne after George II.  In that lifetime, the artisan (now Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex) was interested in military structure.  He, of course, died young of a then unknown illness but which had to do with dysentery. 

Incidentally, in the current incarnation, Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex has suffered from gastroenteritis, which is related to the last-life health issues – this is the immediate past life and not that in 18th century when the artisan died aged 28.

*Two artisans, Diana and Meghan possessed of inordinate eloquence, star power and charisma. Both Diana and Meghan had/have a goal of acceptance; this is the great goal and all such persons have great appeal and are much loved. For less spiritually evolved souls, these persons with goal of acceptance can provoke suspicion and fear; they can even experience the opposite of their goal which is rejection and certainly, thanks to race and her unique role within the monarchy’s history, Meghan has proven a source of great fear and phenomenal rejection. She has mightily threatened the fair story and the White tribe’s sense of its superior blood’s purity and Meghan has caused many to feel truly displaced as their Caucasian blood/genetics is being threatened by the African/Black blood/genetics, which means no longer guaranteed blonde and blue-eyed offspring.

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Meghan, Duchess of Sussex Opening Remarks at One Young World Summit, 2022

Most of all, like Diana, Princess of Wales, Meghan, Duchess of Sussex is an artisan soul and also an early mature soul artisan. Regardless of what one projects onto Meghan, she possesses magical qualities, like Diana did, when she takes to a mic. For Catherine, a mic is Kryptonite. Full stop.

This Is The First and Only Royal Foundation Meeting/Interview with Meghan Participating

Meghan performed handsomely as one can expect of an artisan soul with a goal of acceptance and an actor to boot. However, as is obvious from Prince William’s posture and his having had the last word in the interview, he was hawkish and Meghan performed too well. She, as far as William is concerned, upstaged not just his mumbling idiot wife but he himself. How dare she upstage him when he has been groomed from birth to be the star? She was a damn Yank and a show-off, trying to act as though this were the Meghan show. What kind of institution is that which would misogynistically want a woman to merely be an appendage. In the modern age, one has to be on and represent. Charles as with Diana and William as with Catherine have to realise that there are times when it is important based on the chosen charities that the wife has to go off and engage and make speeches to drive both attention and funding to chosen charities. If you have a blithering idiot for a wife who merely goes out and shakes hands but cameras are not allowed inside to see what an embarrassing zombie the damn woman is, then what is the point? There is no value for money there. And you can bet that William would have overbearingly been giving critiques and directives to Meghan as to what she can and cannot say or do. I cannot state enough how difficult persons with 9 mindset are to deal with. They do not listen and they never take anyone’s counsel. They know and no one is good enough to tell them anything. Just imagine that degree of conceit being exalted in someone with tunnelled vision for having a stellium in their birth chart and groomed from the word go to be sovereign.

No matter how persons here and now arse-kiss the current heir to the throne, history, the final arbiter, will dismiss William as one of the most woefully inept sovereigns, who was out of touch and a difficult prick and a half. This photograph perfectly encapsulates who these two 9-energied persons are. He is from another age and time, full of self-import and entitlement and she just another fake, gurning White female who wants the world at her feet whilst not giving a living damn. No other couple on the world stage embodies the myopia of 9 energy than these two. He will not be acceding the throne in the age of HM King Edward VII or for that matter that of HM George V when good old HM Queen Mary maintained the social rigidity of the Victorian Age to the hilt.

The Queen has died and had no assurances that the realm over which she ruled, is going to be in capably fantastic hands of a regal couple who will be able to steward the dynasty through the remainder of the century. Having been to St. Andrews and acquired an art history degree by the time of her fifth wedding anniversary, Catherine should have proven herself an asset to the Crown. All she did was an introduction to an exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery about early photography, in early 2018, seven years into her marriage. At her disposal that archly lazy and socially discriminating boor has done positively nothing to uplift, inspire and proven herself a loved figure. Who gives a rat’s arse how insecure and rigid William is. Putting to good use her academic credentials, she could, by The Queen’s passing, have done three arts related televised shows per year. As arts patron of the Royal Ballet, she could have been ably assisted in hosting a television production, which would then be shown on one the BBC networks. Cameras would follow her around as she films a day at ballet rehearsals then at opening night she is attendant for a ballet like the Nutcracker so that children across the social strata are introduced to a world which could prove both inspirational and possibly lifechanging. That is a show that could then be sold internationally and those funds go to engage working class kids to become and be supported in pursuing careers in the arts. Similarly, another telecast could be mounted for the production of say the Royal Opera’s Marriage of Figaro.

Portrait of HM Queen Victoria With Her Family, Exhibition At Queen’s Gallery November 2018 Royal Collection Trust

Still another production could feature the young and capable academically accredited Catherine, giving a behind the scenes tour of some aspect of the Royal Collection Trust, which would in due course form part of the rotating exhibitions that move from the Queen’s Gallery, to Holyrood House and Windsor Castle. All that exposure garners more revenue as persons would come from across the globe to take in these exhibitions presented by the future Queen Consort, Catherine. Instead, she has supposedly been playing femme au foyer with a large staff of nannies and servants as though anyone is being fooled by the fact that their invisibility could be for no other reason than the couple being heavily engaged in their extramarital affairs.

This has never transpired because Catherine is too damn lazy and more importantly, William is far too snobbish to want to afford the little people access because such initiatives by Catherine would afford the social lepers, as his 9 mindset would see the little people, access to art to which they are not entitled. This same snobbery and bigotry is precisely why Meghan did not stand a chance. Working in tandem, of course, Meghan could have hosted similar telecasts which featured actors in rehearsal before the premier of a theatrical production. All this would usher in a time of great artistic activity, which would have its full manifestation during William’s reign and prove a hallmark of that era. That snobbery is why after the Grenfell Tower fire in June 2017, not far from where I was staying in Chelsea when visiting London that Summer, Meghan for 9 months worked with the ‘little people’ and produced the Together cookbook, for which she would have been resented by William and Catherine as it would be deemed to be showing them up.

Windsor, HM Camilla, Queen Consort 17/7/1947.

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

Body type is Lunar/Venus. 

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

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

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

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

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

*Camilla is an early mature soul, much as Diana and Meghan were/are. The mature soul cycle is where one makes/incurs a great deal of karma for fucking with others’ lives. This is what Camilla, the Courtesan Queen did in spades and what she has resumed doing with Meghan as she had with Diana, Princess of Wales. There is no greater conceitedly stubborn and interfering soul than a scholar soul. Camilla had a direct hand in Diana’s emotional distress and her eventual divorce which led in time to her being murdered. This has left the Courtesan Queen a very nasty piece of work and this you have seen acted out in her openly rude behaviour towards Blacks and taking lunch with known racists and attackers of Meghan at Mayfair’s Murano.

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Never mind Catherine, the real dynamic in all of this has been, all along both William and the Courtesan Queen. Both Camilla and William are mature Scholar souls. Scholar souls are the only souls which do not pair with another soul on a particular axis as for example: Slaves/Priests on the inspiration axis, Artisans/Sages on the expression axis and lastly Warriors/Kings on the action axis. For this reason, Scholars are very insular and do suffer from delusions and folie de grandeur; more often than not, they are archly prejudiced and like to put everyone and everything in its little box. Everything is anal retentively categorised into their rigid little boxes and they do not waiver on this purely arbitrary prejudicial perspective of theirs – each and every one of them. Also, as a rule, Scholar souls do not favour being Black and do not like Blacks – on the surface they prefer being in milieu and in societies where rather than the arts and creativity, knowledge is favoured.

Windsor, HRH Prince William Prince of Wales 21/6/1982 London, England

Michael: This fragment is sixth-level mature scholar – third life thereat.  William is in the observation mode with a goal of acceptance.  A pragmatist, he is in the intellectual part of moving centre. 

Body type is Lunar/Mars/Saturn. 

William’s primary chief feature is stubbornness – death of his mother, Diana, Princess of Wales, was the triggering event and the secondary arrogance. 

The fragment William is third-cast in sixth cadence; he is a member of greater cadence seven.  William’s entity is four, cadre one, greater cadre 6, pod 208. 

William’s essence twin is a scholar and he has a warrior task companion to whom he is married, Catherine, HRH Princess of Wales. 

William’s primary needs are: exchange, freedom and security. 

There are 6 past-life associations with Arvin and 3 with Merlin.

*Like Diana, Princess of Wales, his mother, and Meghan, William a scholar soul also has a goal of acceptance. However, unlike both women, he is moving centred; this means that he shoots his mouth off before thinking through things. He takes action without realising that he has not got a truly objective, clear overview of the issues in hand. Moreover, William was born with a stellium in his astrological chart which means that he can never clearly see the forest for the trees. His scholarly conceit means that he will act as though for being destined to be sovereign, he has a right to openly discriminate without a care in the world; this is what he engaged in at his brother’s wedding. William has become so corrupted that he is almost exclusively focussed in his opposite goal of rejection, which is what his campaign of opposing Meghan’s very existence is all about.  

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HRH Prince William, Prince of Wales & HM Queen Camilla, Queen Consort

As is obvious, Prince William is a sixth mature scholar soul. This is the most difficult level of any cycle, be it young, mature or old soul cycle. There is no peace for such persons and they can and often do create more karma than had been part of the life plan. In the case of William for being a scholar soul, he just had to be a shit-disturbing, conceited bigot and interfere in both his brother’s and his brother’s wife’s lives without a care in the world. I cannot express enough how very dangerous William is. More hired hands, more assassins and bullies are scholar souls than any other soul. There is positively no way that life within the institution was going to be smooth sailing for Meghan. She was too good to be true and most White scholar souls when they are prejudice will favour Whites, of course, and then Jews and Asians but almost never or very rarely Blacks – if the job requires they will go through the motion but they truly do consider Blacks not to be fully equal, fully human. Full stop.

There are two other very important parts of the puzzle to factor here. Not only are William and the Courtesan Queen on their third life at their respective soul ages; however, both scholar souls have the exact casting in cadence, cadence and greater cadence. They are both in the third (warrior/combative/interfering) position in the sixth (priest/megalomaniacal/Napoleonic/god-complex delusionality) cadence. As if all that were not enough, both though not pod mates (Camilla 129 and William 208) are also in greater cadence seven (king/dictatorial/bossy/abusive/vindictive). Of course, this would have left the Courtesan readily obsessed with fucking with Diana, Princess of Wales just as much as it has left William obsessed with fucking with Meghan, using his obediently pegged and bothered sex slave, Jason Knauf. Camilla and William are as though one and the same personality as they are singularly focussed on fucking with a more popular royal. Scholars are readily threatened by sages and artisans because both soul types are on the expression axis and have a ready wit, appeal and theatricality that scholars almost always find threatening as it highlights their own sense of dullness and lack of mass appeal and sexiness. Obviously, there are exceptions to all such basic personality types with regards to the roles; however, when you look at both Diana, Princess of Wales (Lunar/Mercury) and Meghan (Venus/Solar) body types both Camilla and William would respectively be threatened by each hugely more popular royal. Venus/Solar body type means that no matter how the collective consciousness tries to invalidate and demonise Meghan, more than all the current senior royals, she will transcend time and be the most powerful and popular royal from this age. People well into the future will be astonished that anyone had to endure so much bullshit merely for being Black and marrying into the royal family.

William and Catherine socialising whilst on duty. As a rule, Scholars souls are not touchy-feely types; this is why at times, Catherine has to be the one to initiate tenderness between them. Of course, this is totally opposite to the Sussexes who are warrior (Henry) and artisan (Meghan) souls which are very simpatico and when it works is a very dynamic, sizzling relationship with lots of touching and empathetic communion of souls. Whilst Catherine and William are task companions, unbreakable bond, Henry and Meghan are entity mates and would be deeply bonded and simpatico.

HM Queen Camilla, Queen Consort & HRH Prince William, Prince of Wales

The second oldest soul of the senior royals, William is at the difficult six level of the mature cycle. What makes William singularly problematic for the Windsor dynasty, is his chief feature of Stubbornness. The chief feature is the fatal flaw which causes one not to achieve one’s goal and leaves the life in disarray; it is also the most difficult chief feature to overcome. William’s stubbornness means that though he can be as charming as are all persons with a goal of acceptance, he does though almost exclusively come from a place of rejection the opposite of his goal. People in stubbornness are difficult, bullying and under no circumstances do they tolerate change or anything that is different – this cannot be emphatically stated enough! Under no circumstances did Meghan stand a chance with this difficult individual. There is never a single instance where William is photographed being warm and inclusive of Meghan, not whilst on the balcony at trooping the colour or at any other time. There is the infamous Christmas at Sandringham where when Meghan looked back to speak to William, he stopped turned away and began fidgeting with his scarf. It was a snub and was deliberate. Of course, for the White tribe the most powerful word when dealing with Blacks, to whom one owes enormous karma, is NO! Scholar souls are devoid emotionality and as they do not pair with any other soul type, they are loners and innately reticent snobs.

Simply Beautiful Jennifer Hudson Kennedy Center Honors Al Green 2014

Yes, you are Diana! Yes, you are Meghan! Simply beautiful, you are Diana and Meghan, and those who know nothing of beauty, fear you most!

Just as the Courtesan Queen scholar, Camilla made Diana’s life miserable and triggered her emotional and mental abuse, so too has the Pegged Bourbon lovechild caused Meghan emotional and mental anguish by having the Fleet Street abattoirs and the palace leakers, especially that nez brun queer, Jason Knauf, REJECT, demonise and racially lynch Meghan, leaving her the most hated Black woman in history. This notion that Catherine and William have played no role in the Sussexes’ departure is sheer bullshit. They are guilty as sin. Catherine would have hated and been rude and dismissive of Chelsy Davy and Cressida Bonas, especially like Meghan, Chelsy and Cressida are better looking than Catherine. Catherine is ridiculously insecure and her 9 energy body would have her bullying and treating any wife of Henry’s like a dog. Catherine is a displaced commoner, which is all the more reason why she would be power mad; she does too have a primary need for Power which is a mark of megalomania.

You Bring Me Joy, Yolanda Adams Tribute to Anita Baker, BET Awards 2018

Let’s send some love for both Diana, Princess of Wales’s beloved son, Henry and Meghan, Duchess of Sussex for the abuse they have endured at the hands of grudging, interfering, racist scholars. Sing it Yolanda Adams!

Windsor, HRH Prince Henry, Duke of Sussex 15/9/1984 London, England

Michael: This feisty fragment is a fifth-level mature warrior -– fourth life thereat – to his sixth-level mature brother, William.  Henry is in the power mode with a goal of growth.  A sceptic, he is in the moving part of intellectual centre. 

Body type is Mars/Saturn. 

Henry’s primary chief feature is arrogance and the secondary stubbornness. 

The fragment Henry is first-cast in second cadence; he is a fragment of greater cadence three.  Henry’s entity is one, cadre six, greater cadre 7, pod 418 – Henry is an entity mate of his paternal grandmother, HM Queen Elizabeth II. 

Henry’s essence twin is a warrior and he has a scholar task companion. 

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

There are 9 past-life associations with Arvin and 5 with Merlin. 

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Where Camilla saw Diana as too ‘showy’ and a threat that had to be eliminated – remember, more guns for hire, assassins and saboteurs are scholar souls than not, William also saw his mother and her emotionality as a bit of an embarrassment. Had Diana survived, he would have been just as cool towards her on becoming a parent as he was towards his father, HM King Charles III. Though HM King Charles III is the oldest soul senior royal, seventh mature warrior soul, like all such souls, yours truly included, they do not do drama and have no patience for confusion. Where it all gets interesting, is the other warrior soul in this mix, Prince Henry, Duke of Sussex who as a fifth mature warrior is going to be drama on an operatic scale which is precisely what is unfolding. Do not for a nanosecond think of Henry as a mental case, he is a source of deep fear for the senior royals as he has the shrewdest most Machiavellian overleaves; no matter what, Henry will triumph… know that. As he was Black in his immediate past life, Henry will fight to the last man standing in defence of his wife and children, persons of Black African heritage. Henry’s having been Black in his immediate past life is validated by his connection to Africa, Black Africa and his work with Prince Seeiso of Lesotho, his AIDS charity, Sentebale and deep connection to Botswana and the ease with which he has always been in his skin when in the company of Blacks, unlike William and Catherine who clearly cannot or choose never to mask their racial animus towards Blacks.

Fifth mature lives are all about being expansive and such persons do accomplish a great deal; coupled with that, Henry has a goal of growth. Such people do not stand still, they will be born of humble means and end up living on New York City’s billionaires row in a penthouse. They will be the first to sign up to go into space, the Moon or Mars; they are daring and will always take that leap of faith that others would think horrifying. Furthermore, Henry has an attitude of sceptic, this is the most complex and most powerful manner in which to be focussed intellectually. It is the attitude of the master strategist and as rigorously shrewd as a chest master. Regardless of how Henry is portrayed by the media, he is the most intelligent royal and infinitely more complex and smarter than both his father and brother; HLM Queen Elizabeth II knew this as hers was a goal of dominance and a realist, she saw everything and everyone as they truly were. This is why during the Netflix documentary Henry’s description of what happened at the Sandringham Summit, is precisely what would have happened, William would have been a yelling bully, Charles dithering and lying all over the map and the Queen relishing watching Henry come into his own in a most tense power struggle. Topping it all off, Henry is in power mode, these people are operatic in the scope of the lives they lead and they do accomplish much. They are able to attract into their lives only that which they desire. There is no way that Henry could remain a part of a dynasty, wherein his brother he knows to be both stupid and clueless. Most of all, William is an anti-Black racist and there is no way Henry would be able to either tolerate or support any such Sovereign. This was never about stepping away and abandoning The Queen, it was about telling his brother to go fuck himself – for a sceptic, Henry knows that his brother is an idiot and neither holding his tongue nor kowtowing proved an acceptable proposition to Henry. Also, Catherine and William are in the 200s pod series whilst HLM The Queen, Henry, Meghan, Prince George and Prince Archie are all cadre mates in the 400s pod series. The current Waleses do not get it and Henry was not prepared to stick around and tolerate the abuse or participate in his brother and his wife’s clown show: pegging, love children, philandering, perpetually rowing night and day. Thus far, the Waleses have been adulterous which has likely resulted in a lovechild between them, Damian with Ben Ainslie and a daughter with Rose, Countess Rocksavage. Mature souls prefer mating for life and running stable households, unless of course that mature soul couple are miserable with their partner as is abundantly clear with William and Catherine.

A House Is Not A Home Luther Vandross 19th NAACP Image Awards 1987

And above all else, we own the music, we bring the music. My eldest sister who now permanently lives in Nevis came to town in recent months, for having been in lockdown for way too long; she just wanted to get away. I was last in Nevis in 2000 to introduce my wife to the place who thought it was the most far out trip imaginable; personally, it is way too bright in the Tropics. I who have collected art since my teen years, have preferred working at night time and living with windows heavily draped at all times. With a collection that is more than 90 percent works on paper, I can ill afford to have my art being subjected to sunlight. All windows boarded up, affording me more space to hang art; besides, Sol is too damn bright and furthermore, it belongs the fuck outside. In any event, my sister began talking about family and who had gotten married, died and had babies; she is the encyclopaedic font of the family’s history. So then she began sharing all the chatter about Covid lockdown funeral etiquette, when she mentioned that she attended the funeral at which scary spice, Mel B. (Brown) of the Spice Girl gave the eulogy. That was news because I knew that only few persons were allowed to attend funerals. So Mel B. gave the eulogy for her beloved grandmother who happened to have been a cousin of my mum’s; my sister was invited to represent our family. So who aren’t you related to, my wife asked and off my sister went.

Meghan is Black so naturally out of the woodwork comes all this hate and animus from persons who have no business being in this lane.

Like seriously. Look METHenny what the fuck has this got to do with you and why are you being so goddamn ape batshit crazy? When were Black people jumping up and down and acting like the sky was falling when Al Gore announced his running mate, Joe Lieberman? Go educate your 20 million zombie followers all about the Falasha genocide in Israel. No, you don’t know about that? Why don’t you go back and stay the fuck in your lane, shut the fuck up and stay fucking lost? Honest to fucking g_d!

Then along comes this racist freak, Joanna Weiss. Hey Donkey, what gives? Hate Meghan all you want, it will never change the fact that Catherine is a blasted inarticulate dud. She is lazy and the only thing she is capable of doing, is working with toddlers because she is not expected to make speeches to persons sucking on pacifiers and wearing diapers. This need to make inroads into America, pushing this negative narrative about the Sussexes is transparent. Most of the persons engaging in this hate campaign are disproportionately Jewish. This woman’s article made positively no sense whatsoever; however, it is a known fact that once ‘one’ is being shrill about Blacks, one must be right. If no one can so much as look sideways in your direction why must you persist with always demonising, vilifying, racially preying on Blacks?

Jon Sopel BBC Presenter

Reporter throws back to Sopel in BBC studio on the day that the Sussexes’ firstborn was named; he smugly stated, I’ve a friend whose dog’s name is Archie. Smug born and bred little bigoted boor. Of course, there were no consequences for his vile remarks. What gives?

Constantly yammering away with the shrill hatred, inciting anti-Black racism and does so in the smug conceit that they will never be challenged for being Jewish. Yeah Tom, why don’t you, since you do not exclusively write royal biographies, turn your unbiased eye and tell the story of the Falasha genocide in Israel. That’s right, the forced sterilisation of Black Israeli Jews from Ethiopia who had their numbers reduced by 50% because they were Black and for no other reason. As for Angela Levin, she has seriously insulted the Sussexes in print time and again, whilst claiming to respect the House of Windsor. She has repeatedly referred to Henry & Meghan’s daughter Lilibet Diana as Lilibut. You fucking crass anti-Black racist Jew. Having grown up in the Caribbean with three maids with a very proud mother who fiercely instilled pride and inner fortitude in her six children; looking and sounding every bit my mum when displeased, I have been known to flatly shoot someone a look and brutally demand, Since when the fuck does being Jewish not make you White?

Adrien Brody Winning Best Acting Oscar 2003 Academy Awards

In 2002 Halle Berry became the first Black actress to win the Oscar for best actress. Chances are had 9/11 not occurred six months prior, she likely would not have won. Certainly, she had not been favoured to win. She grudgingly won and broke a Hollywood taboo; Black women are not good enough, beautiful enough, too beautiful to be threatening White actresses by winning a best actress award. To date more than a fifth of the best actress awards have been won by White British actresses; that’s right, an American award being afforded Britons instead of Black American women, or for that matter Latina American actresses to say nothing of other non-White actresses, Asian and Native American among them.

There she was dumbstruck with disbelief, gave a great speech but though that night the doors had been opened, up onto the stage walked Adrien Brody, grabbed her, stuck his tongue down her throat and sexually assaulted a Black woman before a global audience and thereby putting her back in her place and slamming the door, which ought never to have been opened, shut again. Adrien is, of course, Jewish and had any Black actor gone to the stage and done what he did to a White actress, to say nothing of a Jewish actress, their career would have been summarily lynched. Black men were lynched, murdered for looking at White women, accused of sexually assaulting White women, at times when in a different state at the time of the alleged assault, yet the ultimate double standard was being demonstrated. Adrien for being Jewish could do no wrong. At the time, as I watched the show live in Montréal where I then lived, the Jewish men at the party I attended were wildly celebratory and thought that it was a stroke of genius when Adrien did what he did. It was code, Adrien was telling Halle that all she is a damn cheap cinematic whore and should not have risen above her station. The clapping of the three Jewish males at that viewing party was hostile, degrading and lethally racist. There is positively no way that Adrien Brody would have taken to that stage, grabbed and shoved his tongue down Nicole Kidman’s throat thereby sexually assaulting her. That’s what you get for deferring to, fearing and never challenging persons who do not think your humanity of any worth.

Swing Low Sweet Chariot, Judy Garland Everybody Sing, 1938

Never let it be forgotten that this is how, you, perceive Blacks. End of discussion. How many biopics of Blacks displaying their creative genius in Jazz has Hollywood bankrolled? Precisely.

Tree I Planted At Age Seven In Back Garden in St. Kitts

When I was about six years old, at a time when I had multiple boy and girl friends in the neighbourhood, I had a rather rude awakening whose lessons have ever impacted on me. My then boyfriend was months older with the most beautiful smiling eyes and dimpled. We would always kiss when playing hide and seek and engage in intercrural sex, making passionate noises and kissing on the lips whist I’d breathlessly declare, “I love you, I love you, I love you, my darling.” One day, my childhood lover who passed last March, came by with a friend whom I had ever dismissed as an absolute oaf. He was dull, shy and frankly stupid. Could never be part of my little racy theatrical events and sexual romps. Then, my darlings, my dimpled lover had the shy oaf unsheathe the goods. In that moment my baptism as size queen was thorough. At once I fell to my knees and as though calling on past-life memories, the poilued and über thick beast was in my mouth. I was ravenous like a sexually ravaged nun. Before, I knew what next, life’s elixir shot warmly into my mouth. I got up, trembling and wanted this to not end. Oaf that he was, he quickly tidied himself. Imperiously, I dismissed my dimpled lover and callously told him that it was over between us; I had after all found love! I simply refused to speak to the dimpled scorned lover. He courted me, giving me a toy plane which I took but still demanded that he return with my throbbing bit of ecstasy. Days later, the little dimpled charlatan showed up at my house accompanied by his aunt with her embarrassing my mother when she demanded that her damn thieving son, return the toy plane that she had gifted her nephew. I was aghast. Naturally, I could not have blurted out that he was jealous because I had dropped her nephew for newfound, real, big loving.

View Northwest to Sandy Point from Brimstone Hill

Days later, as I made my way across the bridge to the grocers, I had been tormented with vile looks by my abandoned lover’s grandmother who sat on the stoop, smoking her pipe as West Indian women enjoying their senectitude are wont. Fearful of her, I managed to call out as one is expected to of elders, ‘Good afternoon…’ Faster than a bat at sundown, she shot back, “What? Fire your wayward lil arse. You blasted catamite!” I was so stunned and ashamed that I hurried to the grocers which by the time I arrived, I was crying my eyes out. The matriarch, whose granddaughter was a classmate and in time would become high commissioner in London, sternly told me that I was not to fear anyone. “Listen to me, you go back and let her know if she ever talks to you that way again, you’ll tell your mother!” Indeed. On my return instead of walking on the opposite side of the street, I paused and hissed at her, “You ever talk to me like that again, and I will tell me muddah!” She trembled and fell silent and that was that. I never thereafter lost sense of who I am and whose son I was. Fear no one could best describe my mum than anything else. Most of all, I learnt that day that shame merely gets in the way and is an utter waste of time.

And now, we eagerly await voraciously devouring its 400 plus pages and in the next blog, I shall give a most thrilling review of SPARE, Prince Henry’s ennobled defence of his and family’s honour. Go on Henry, justly tell them to fire their wayward arses, you are Diana’s son and wife of the very indomitable Meghan who previously was Margaret Beaufort.

Henry & Meghan, Duke & Duchess of Sussex, June 2022 St. Paul’s Cathedral

Dizzy Gillespie Quintet, Massey Hall May 1953, Toronto Seminal Live Jazz Recording

Dizzy Gillespie – Trumpet

Charles Mingus – Bass

Bud Powell – Piano

Max Roach – Drums

Charlie Parker – Saxophone

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Fuck you, Jazz is Black culture, the hell with you!

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

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©2013-2025 Arvin da Brgha. All Rights Reserved.

Ensouled Proboscis Simian Humans

These utterly stunning dream experiences occurred on Thursday, February 16, 1989, whilst the Moon transited both Cancer and my second house.

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I was on a street and just beyond the other side of the street was the edge of a cliff; it looked down into a distant valley.  It was very sunny out.  I was seated in front of a house. On my right was a man who had come home from work in a car.  He looked very Italian except that he seemed to be very hirsute – as though he had quite dark skin. However, on closer inspection, he turned out to be rather hirsute.  A little later on, he came outside again.  His neighbours were looking at him, kind of strangely, like they weren’t already accustomed to looking or reacting to him in a strange manner.

He sat down next to me outside, on the neighbouring bench to my right, both of us with backs to the neighbours.  He turned and looked at me and his face was rather ape-like. It was the colour black and his hair was quite different.  This man had a long widow’s peak and his face was literally the colour black.  It was quite ape-like.  He said nothing.  More than that, he seemed rather friendly and nice. Along that street, there were kids when a car had pulled up.  They were very teenage kids – all boys.  A boy came out further along and returned to join one of his companions.

Then it turned out that his companion was in a car that was black and seemed to move, as it were, on air-cushioned rubber wheels.  This black car of his was rather aerodynamic. After his friend took off, he then – this is the little blond timid guy – went over towards the cliff.  Directly in front of the hirsute ape-like man, who was seated to my right, the blond guy went into the bushes. The young guy turned out to have been his brother – that guy who looked like a twin of his or resembled a brother.  They hung out together and then he went moving on.

As he passed me, going from right to left, a friend of his was coming down the road.  The road had a curve in it and went steeply up a hill.  The hill, in fact, looked like the hill at Toronto’s Prospect Cemetery on the south side of Kitchener Street. His friend came down and he was wearing a helmet because he had been on some sort of vehicle.  He removed the helmet, carrying it in his right hand, as they greeted each other. Strangely, they greeted by grabbing each other around the hips and rubbed their crotches together, joked and laughed.  In essence, they engaged in clothed frottage.

I thought it interesting that two males would engage in open sexual play, however, this seemed the natural standard way of greeting in this culture.  Clearly, this was a sign that this was not exactly Kansas. I had the distinct impression that the twin blonds had gone into the gorge to do drugs.  As they were blissing out, only the crown of their golden mops was visible. They were using the very intense lushness of the rolling hills, in the valley way below, as a stimulant.  Everything here was so pronouncedly healthy, even the star that shined seemed more intense and pure than Sol. I carefully looked at some of the trees and realised that they were bonsai, furry, mossy centuries-old plants that seemed to hum at a frequency higher than their arboreal counterparts on Earth.

I was able to zoom into the plants in the valley way below and experience them in intimate close-up.  Of course, this I accomplished whilst remaining seated on the bench where to my right on another sat the über-poilu, intensely warm, handsome ape-like man. The helmet was the same black, light, metal-plastic alloy material as the car.  It seemed to have the ability to absorb the intense sunlight, which was not scorching, and cool the interior. The blond who greeted his Italian-looking helmeted friend – they were all, incidentally, the same hirsute ape-like stock as the jet-black man seated to my right – had patted the car as he moved around its rear into the road to meet his dark-haired friend. He had patted the car much like one would a trusted horse.  At that, the car had hissed and lurched to the road from its hovering stationary position a foot off the ground.

 Later on, in the second dream, I was still on the same street.  There were all these little kids.  They were on skateboards.  They came down about four, five, six, of them – little guys. One of them was Black.  He was quite light-skinned.  They were from a high social class.  They were very friendly and nice and I warmly interacted with them. However, they were quite reserved and it wasn’t as though they weren’t friendly.  As I was a stranger, for that reason, they kept me at bay. On the lower part of the street, where I was with them, it was clearly a cemetery.  As far as cemeteries go, it was quite different an arrangement.  It had quite large tombstones in it – monuments.

There was one woman there in black who was seemingly Italian.  She was carrying on; she was grieving by this one monument.  It had on it a very interesting design and some of the graves were fresh. I explained to them, the little boys, that this was where one went.  However, then one came back from there and was able to live a life again like they were now living. I explained to them in those terms, however, I did not force them to look at funerals.  People’s focus on funerals as the end and fear of death was the trap, I explained to them.

In this the third dream, I was under these hugely tall trees and was working at the time.  Clearly, I had been working for someone like Pete Wilkens or someone like him. I had left a shovel around.  The shovel had been left about and from a long, long time ago.  This was on the grounds of a park-like setting where there were lots of skeletons about. The skeletons were covered with a whole bunch of ants.  It was strange because it seemed as though the bones were the remnants of lunch and had just been eaten. They seemed like the skeletons for fish except that the head bone of the fish – skull – was quite flat. 

The head had three sides to it and the skeleton was again a narrow filament that had two identical spines that trailed the unusual-looking skull. The skeletons were quite white and were flexible like the white cartilage of a chicken breast.  There was a bunch of ants all over them. I might also add that these flexible, double-spined, fish-like skeletons were covered with ants that were quite feathery and lumpy.  These ants were almost like miniature tarantulas because they were so bulky, dark, rich and, in a way, nice to look at.

There was a shovel sitting about and I realised that I had left it there, when I worked last time which was some time ago, last season.  However, nobody had actually moved it because it meant that it was my responsibility to have moved it. So I ended up moving a couple of rakes – they were, in fact, more like pole saws.  When trying to clear the space, I took them from one area to the next. I must say that I was quite struck by the face of that particular man that I did see, whilst he sat on the neighbouring bench to my right, in the initial dream.  Even here in another dream entirely, I kept seeing him in my mind’s eye.

 The fourth dream found me going back to an apartment where Merlin and I were living together.  There were ants all about the apartment. I told him, “You have to get out and go away for a while so I can clean away the ants.” I then went about disinfecting the place and got rid of the ants.  I was even disinfecting beneath the floorboards… everywhere. Owing to his being full-blown with AIDS, I did not want Merlin being exposed to the harmful chemicals in the disinfectants.  That, certainly, could have resulted in horrific consequences on his vastly compromised immune system.

With the fifth dream, I was in a large department store.  There, I saw Isis da Braga who was there to buy a scarf.  At the time, I was with two males; it was a Gay situation. Owen Hawksmoor was talking to someone who had a very large nose.  The man to whom Owen spoke was Black.  He seemed like we vaguely knew each other.  He seemed, in fact, like Don Baxter. However, the face on this man was black and had hues of red in it.  Not the colour black but as Black people look.  More than that, such that it looked like the nose of an animal’s would like an aardvark or some such, the nose on this man was more like a snout. He wore white; both he and Owen did.  There was some function, that one had to go to, for which Owen had complimentary tickets.

These two people, whom Owen and I had encountered, were saying that they did not know where their complimentary tickets were.  I said that I knew I had mine.  Anyway, Owen left them and went back up a flight of steps. It was quite light out, up the staircase, as though there was a skylight hung high overhead.  Owen moved on and I went in search of Isis who had passed by.  She was quite embarrassed, in fact, at seeing me with my arm about a Gay person. She went in and picked up a scarf and the scarf was worth 52$, I think, because she was putting down the balance of the money – the other half – 26$.  She was there shopping. It was a black scarf and it had beautiful… the borders were red and green designs.  It really was quite nice.  I came and leaned on the counter and said hello to my sister.

She was reserved, cool and detached.  She turned to me and was beautifully made up and looked very young with beautiful, flawless, flawless skin. She spoke about the fact that she did not go shopping with me anymore.  She insisted that my accusation that she did not go shopping with me anymore because I was with men was not true. She was wearing a beautiful mustard-coloured jacket and a scarf about her neck.  Indeed, she was quite well-off.

*The thing about these unusually droopy noses is that they looked as though this was a race of extra-humans (extra-terrestrials) which had evolved from simian mammals who were descended from proboscis monkey stock rather than not.  It is a race of primates native to Borneo and the faces of those simians are rather human. This is how this man and others in this dream would appear.  However, it was more than that look.  END.

In the sixth dream, I was in an office that was like an indoor greenhouse.  If you like, it was a mausoleum rather than greenhouse.  It was sky-lit and there were a lot of caskets about.  Some of them had flowers and some of them did not. When you came in, you went down some stairs and into a more open area.  There you saw a burial crypt.  It was an indoor burial crypt.  There was a man about as well as a grand piano. Whenever the employees of the place came in, there was a woman standing about and she would excitedly say, “We have to go out, we have to go out.” I was with those little children, from the earlier dream, who were skateboarding and whom I had instructed earlier about the whole idea of reincarnation.  These children were mostly White.  We were also being hustled out of the place.

The woman then said, “What is he doing?  There is not another service.  Why is he trying to start up that piano?” The man at the piano was large and bent over and he looked somewhat out of place being there.  Before we could be ushered out of the place, I managed to run up and put some flowers – some yellow flowers, on one of the brown caskets that was there.

*He was inordinately tall and hence drooped over a lot.  Whilst seated at the grand piano, his towering height made it look as though an adult seated at a dollhouse piano.  Too, he was inordinately pale…  END.

As we were going out, the procession was coming in and people were being hustled in.  It was quite a fast procession.  I stuck around and tried to see the place and see why there was so much hustling. There and then, it turned out that I saw the casket.  It was very flat and plain and I thought, ‘Well why is it being hustled out?  If it’s a funeral why would the relations be so ecstatic?’ However, it turned out that because the burial box was so flat I thought it was going to be cremated.  It turned out, however, that it was for the office.  There was going to be a surprise party.

It was actually a cake.  It was covered up in wonderful, colourful wrapping paper.  There was going to be a celebration and those were all the workers from the company.  The atmosphere was quite nice and friendly.

 In this the seventh dream, I was in a very, very large and busy restaurant where I ordered myself a bowl of soup.  I was going to go upstairs to the bathroom but I had my bowl of soup in my hand. It was very Gothic-styled.  It seemed, in fact, like the inside of a château.  It was in the Gothic style except that the walls were rose granite – rose-coloured granite.  It was, however, rather smooth-surfaced. I then accidentally spilled my bowl of soup.  The waitress who had come to my aid was dark-haired – short, dark hair.  She looked like a dancer who danced with the Winnipeg Contemporary Dancers when I was living in Winnipeg – the one who was Lebanese and had had a back injury.

Anyway, this waitress went off and I was waiting there being quite embarrassed.  I was trying to rush to the toilet.  I asked someone where the toilet was and they said, “No, no, not upstairs.” It turned out that the washrooms were, in fact, to the rear.  So off I went to the bathroom and I was quite embarrassed. I tidied up myself and I came back out and my white cotton pants – nice, beautiful trousers; they were baggy but they came in tight and folded in a pleat at the end at the hem – were quite stained by the soup. It was a dark sort of pea soup.  A dark brownish fare, like a lentil soup, it was.  However, it was not like a lentil soup because it was red.

I was trying to ask this man to move, in order to get by him, en route to the washrooms.  There was a couple behind a man and they were very lovey-dovey. The man had to ask them to get up to let me get to the bathroom.  He did not want to get up or anything like that but he finally realised he had to get up.  So he basically moved and he was quite unusually blond. Everybody in this place was very unusual-looking.  They had extraordinary features about them.  They were excessively good-looking but they had an outstanding feature that made them seem Thothesque. Again, noses here were very long, droopy and bent over.  Their noses were almost beaklike in that sense.  That was the extraordinary thing about that jet-black skinned man, in the initial dream, as well as this blond man who had the same feature.

Humanoid with exact nose as this Proboscis Simian

These persons were all exceptionally tall.  They were each on the other side of seven-plus feet.  Also, they were so über-poilu, it made it look like they were either jet-black when Black or yellow-white for being blond. Finally, he did move and when I was leaving, I looked at him.  He was looking down at me because I was out of sorts, out of place, being there.  Standing before him, he really did tower over me. Clearly, these persons were EHs – extra-humans or ETs. Another person had come by and tidied me up.  He busily got me back to where I was seated.  Then he had mumbled something like,Why don’t you get out of here real fast?”

So I went out into the vestibule and I was waiting and waiting for the waitress to come by because I wanted to pay her for my bowl of soup.  I think it was going to be $3 or something like that. Isis just said, “Why don’t we just get out of here?” We were waiting out front and it was busy so I finally got out.  However, I was arguing and said, “That’s not the point of it.” I strongly felt that I should be paying my way.  So I thought to just go back and put down my money on a table somewhere – I would feel better. However, I did finally leave, after having been more or less harassed by Isis without having paid.  She was asking, “If you can save the money, why not save it?” that was her attitude.

When we were leaving there was a tall, enormously tall, man.  He was White.  Again, he had the same beaklike nose and there was something about his face that I found immediately sexual.  His face was intensely sexualised. I was going to indulge and not leave because I so wanted to explore this man.  However, Isis hustled me out of there.

Dream eight found me in the streets.  I was walking with a baby – a little Black baby who was light-skinned.  I carried the baby on my shoulders. It was rather nice.  This time, out on the street, it was dark out and it was night time.  This place we went to, that was quite busy, was bustling with lots of wonderful, wonderful people. It was very cosmopolitan here.  A brief dream it was too.

I next found myself in a ninth dream experience that had a great deal of uproar and tumult to it. There were figures in black who were part of some sort of religious sect.  These persons were just alarmingly fanatical. They were terrorists and they wore black.  They had some sort of insignia on their bodies.  As a matter of fact, they were looking for me; there was no mistaking that fact. I was in what would be Catherine Angelica Montpelier’s yard.  I was trying to hide out there.  There were, somehow, attempts to get me out. Then there was this truck which the people who were like security guards used.  I was told where to find them and where they weren’t.

So I went into this yard and it seemed like part of Catherine Angelica Montpelier’s property and the neighbourhood in Crab Hill, Sandy Point, St. Kitts.  However, it was differently set up here. There was an Indian-looking girl – Amerindian-looking and not Dravidian.  She, too, had a beaklike nose and I tried to explain to her, “Well look, you know I’m being pursued…”

“Oh yes!” further, she made reference to the fact, “Oh yes, you’re the one who killed Bob… or somebody.” Up on the roof was like Bob’s brother, whoever Bob was, but it wasn’t a name that I recognised.  His name was Bob, however; it was Patrice Wellesley, of all people, who was keeping a lookout. He was supposed to notify the guard-like people.  I intuitively knew that on the far side of the wall, of the place where I was hiding out, was a guy and a girl.  She had very long black hair and was quite militant.  They were looking out for me and talking.

I was telling the Amerindian-looking girl with the Thothesque nose, who was talking to me and dropping pieces of information, to just shut up and calm down, “You don’t need to say everything and carry on and on.” However, she still kept on blabbing away. I then managed to go around the side of the house.  She was with her sister and they were playing some sort of game.  So I thought to actually go around, to the front of the house, to ask her who her sister was. I then went around to the front of the house and there was her sister who seemed like Diana Nottingham – with whom I modelled at OCAD and did that pose with her at OCAD that Olaf Nordstrom had painted.

Anyway, she was quite wonderfully made up in whiteface.  As though she were a Kabuki actor/actress, she wore white pancake makeup.  She was, in fact, an actress.  She was waiting to go on and perform a role of hers. It was quite interesting because she was, in fact, filling me in on what was going on, “In point of fact Arvin, you know, basically someone died because in self-defence in a rumble with them… it was just a lazy man about town, an idler and a drifter.” He apparently ended up dying because, during some sort of attack on me, as I was defending myself he was accidentally killed.  As a result, I was on the run and there was a plot – the militant group was out to get me.

Immanuel Methodist Church, Sandy Point, St. Kitts

She told me that what I could do was go behind the Methodist Church in Crab Hill, Sandy Point, St. Kitts.  The place, however, was set out as if a mélange of Crab Hill, Sandy Point, St. Kitts and elsewhere. So she told me to go across the railroad tracks.  On coming around, I would be able to come home free to my home in Crab Hill.  However, she pointed out that all along the route there were the same guards – militant fanatics. However, I just had to play it safe.  She confidently assured me that they could be headed off.  I was grateful for her advice and took her directives to heart. Well, low and behold, the girl – the militant sibling – came around the yard and caught me.  When she caught me, I fled in escape.  I went and hid behind the wall. I am not referring to Diana or one of the two sisters who had been around the backyard but there were two other sisters.  These other two sisters were part of the militant group that was on the hunt for me.

The girl pulled out a weapon and it had a little blade on it.  It was quite deadly and I kept hiding myself trying to extricate myself out of the place.  I did so by holding up one of the sisters, in front of me, as a hostage. Someone got spliced in the left hand.  I don’t recall that it was me or if it was me, I simply did not feel any pain when attacked.  The vicious-looking wound had self-healed right away.  I had focussed my light energies on the wound and caused it to instantaneously self-heal. Anyway, I was able to push the sister onto them.  I then made my way around to the back of the house.  By this time, the brother was coming around the house from the other direction.

When I say I went around to the back of the house, it was where I had originally encountered the two militant sisters.  By that point, she had already called for help from the guardsman.  He was somewhat ecstatic as he came around.  However, this was my chance to flee. So I climbed over the fence and immediately there was a lot of plastic on and all over everything.  When I climbed over the wall it was, clearly, what in the waking state would be the very back end of the Methodist Church estate. It was covered with a heavy plastic and there was a lot of wood.  There was scaffolding everywhere.  I climbed along the wood and the sister – the white-faced, actor of the two sisters – had told me that I could get immunity by saying that I was coming to work on the grounds or some such.

Next, I crawled along the scaffolding and looked to my left.  However, this being a dream, it had semblances to being Sandy Point but it wasn’t really Sandy Point either. I realised that there were apartments, tiny apartments, which were glass-enclosed.  They were all quite in disarray.  People lived there but nobody seemed to be home. Here I was trying to make my escape and if anybody had seen me, of course, I would be squealed on.  Then I finally jumped down, out of the ceiling-like area, because there were crates and boxes and a straw-stuffed bed under me directly below the window. I came down to an open area and there I saw a much darker version of Artemis da Braga, my niece.  She was sitting wrapped with a telephone cord about her as she played with the phone. I greeted her but I did not want to get her excited because I wanted to flee the area.

Sentient Alien Land Rover

Next, in dream ten, I came out of this beautiful house and came out into a wonderful backyard.  Immediately, whilst there, I saw another of those vans.  There had also been a van in the earlier dream that showed how these people, the militant people, worked. They had a van and it had another little van on the inside when it opened up claw-like.  It appeared that the top and the bottom, the back rather, could open up.  Inside it revealed another vehicle that was covered in a brownish greasy goop. The most interesting feature of this entire affair was that, although they looked human enough, the militiamen were not human.  They were extra-human.  So too was the machine which, from its goopy fluids, was sentient. It was an EH species which they were using to capture and feed one to.  It seemed that the machine-like EHs were, in fact, in control of the militia-type EHs rather than the reverse.

It seemed more creature than a vehicle and, somehow, this was what I was supposed to be put in when captured.  These two Black men, who were guarding the house and who let me know that they were guarding the house, were saying, “Aha!  Now we’ve caught you.” You know, I thought about it and there was just no way that I was going to let them capture me. ‘I’ve got to get away,’ I thought. At the time, one of them was taking a pee – both these men were Black.  They were quite casual about having caught me.  They apparently were going to get their supervisor who would take care of me.

The supervisor came and he looked like the guy from Trinidad who had worked as a chef at the Underground Railroad Restaurant when, long ago, I worked there.  He did, at least, seem like that man. This man, who was their supervisor, was also Black.  He had the semblance, the air about him, of that chef but he did not so much look a great deal like him.  He was rotund and fairly light-complected. He lived in the house.  Rather, he did not live in the house but he was staying in the house as a caretaker.  I thought, ‘I’m not going to be captured.  I’m not going to be caught.  I can disguise myself.’

Rendering Self Invisible by Increasing Light Vibration

I immediately started accelerating my energies and, as a result, I was able to transform myself.  As I upped my frequency, I heard an increase in the universal hum. I looked down at the backs of both my outstretched hands, keenly observing the intense sunlight react to my skin in a glowing sizzling manner, until my aura intensified and became visible about my body. My aura’s light grew brighter as my skin actually glowed with increasing intensity.  It continued until the skin, throughout my entire body, was indistinguishable from the rest of the intense morning sunlight. When they went down the hill and came back with the guy, I was standing there right in front of the house.  It was this particular, large wooden house.

It wasn’t large, for being a bungalow, but the door was large.  This house was definitely not part of the landscape in Sandy Point, St. Kitts.  As I looked on, the guards came bearing the portly gentleman. I was aware from the way he – the supervisor, Zen sage – was talking that he was aware that I was there.  Perhaps, he could see me but the other two – the militant guardsmen – couldn’t see me. I realised what I had done: I had made myself light so that I blended in with the landscape and couldn’t be seen.  I had rendered myself invisible!

I then decided that I could further transform myself.  Next, I made myself into this little white piece of what seemed like string.  However, it was more like nylon.  It was like shiny waxed dental floss. Such that half way there was a loop in it, it was tied in a knot.  It was doubled on itself so that it was, I would guess, three to five inches long at the most. I obviously was astrally projected to another world where, rather lucidly, I was dreaming and interacting with extra-humans.  The dental floss-like string was the cord of light which keeps one’s astral body connected, to the waking state body, when astral-projected during sleep.

The Light Umbilical Cord Connected to Astral Body

Immediately, the caretaker guy took the cord – the wax-like cord – which was my transformed-dreamer self in his hand.  It was my astral body’s cord which was left rendered visible whilst I remained invisible. He began giving the two guardsmen a walk-through of the house in which only he should have been.  It was a house that was no longer lived in.  It was wooden all about and very organic. It was a house that allowed for natural light to pour in.  There was a skylight.  The house was low in the sense that it was dug in.  The house was built such that it was somewhat half-buried below the surface. In that way, it was kept cool because it was partly below-ground.  All about, on either side, as you walked in every part of this beautiful, sprawling bungalow were every manner of cactus.

These were cacti that were shaped like trees that had leaves.  Absolutely stunning and incredible, they enlivened the house throughout. He gave me a tour of the place with the two guardsmen, who could not see me, in tow.  As he walked them back to the front door he said, “So you see, he really couldn’t be here.  You go off and look for him.” He tossed me or what was my representation – the wax-looking string or my astral body’s umbilical-like cord of light – from his right hand sending it through a doorway of the house.  He then went about his business and showed them to the door and got rid of them. At this point, I rematerialised back to my regular dreamer self in this dream and I was able to let on to him that I knew that he knew of my being invisible.  So I called him, on another phone in the house, and I remained absolutely silent. I then telepathically shared my thoughts with him.  I inferred that I knew that he was aware that I was present in the house though invisible to most.  Of course, he knew that I was there but he was just not going to acknowledge my being friendly with him. The fact is that he knew that I was in trouble.  He was just trying, out of the goodness of his heart, to help me out.  However, he wasn’t going to befriend me or anything like that.

Sprawling Partially Submerged Bungalow

So anyway, on my own I began exploring this beautiful, beautiful labyrinth-like bungalow.  The walls of it were wooden.  It was a reddish wood like redwoods normally look.  It had a shiny hue to it because it was polished. I was talking about it to someone, later on in the dream, and it was in fact the same guy – the caretaker – who had accompanied me at one point.  I said it seemed like it was built by Frank Lloyd Wright and he said, “No.  Not really…” It seemed like it but it was a different style altogether; however, it was more or less like Frank Lloyd Wright.  Seriously though, it was a totally different style. So I went about exploring the place.  I went in this one room that was clearly a bedroom.  I opened the door and went in – it was a glass door.  I went in and on the left were shelves.

There were tiny, tiny, little cacti in pots and some of them were large and some of them were blooming.  They were heliotropically craning over to one side. This place had been abandoned for quite some time.  However, all the cacti in the place had managed to grow quite large.  They were big, bulbous, beautiful and wonderfully lifelike. The spread to the bed was turned down and discarded.  It had been left just as when last used by the owner.  There was a bulldog; it was not a live one but a statue of a bulldog. This person had a great deal of style and was quite successful.  I realised that the owner, the former occupant, was Black.  I saw the face and I can’t say that I can recall the face but, somehow, I got the impression that the face was a face of mine if you like.

Bungalow’s Debonair Former Occupant

It was interesting because when I saw the face that is basically the information that I got from looking at the face in the photo.  There was a tiny time-faded photograph of a face.  It was of a Black man. This was the sense that I got from it, that it was me, in fact. There were beautiful trousers about.  As well, there was a large armoire with tons and tons of beautiful, silk robes that I had worn in that life. They were worn around the house by the former occupant.  There were, on the bed, some clothes.  Too, there was a table beside the bed. Everything in this bungalow was very organic: the bed was very organic, the desk was and even the fixtures were very organic.  As well, the cloth was very organic – by organic, I mean that it wasn’t inanimate.

It was organic because it was lifelike.  More than that, it was organic because it was breathing.  That’s why it had lived so long because it was quite some time since last occupied by the owner. However, it was very much so still alive.  The sheet and bedding, on the bed, were woollen and greyish-coloured. The only reason why I had entered the room, in the first place, was I wanted to roam – to see if there were any signs of underwear… there was.  There was tons of underwear on the shelves behind me. I wanted to check and sniff his underwear, to see if he had masturbated.

Anyway, when I got into the room, that little adventure had totally evaporated.  For having seen the photograph, if you like I was quite interested in exploring the place and getting to refamiliarise myself with the place. The bedroom was just absolutely beautiful.  Off to the left, rather behind the shelves and straight ahead, was the closet and the bed was to the right of the door.

Down this long hallway that was sky-lit were the tables and tables of clothing.  There was a door past the shelves, on the left, and it looked into more and more clothes. I then came out of there and I went about exploring all over.  This time, I went to explore all the cacti in the place.  There were tons and tons of them. Shortly thereafter, I was joined by Carl Leroiderien, Merlin and someone else who seemed like Mario of Paris – Mario D’Agostino, however, it wasn’t him. I had a sense of Maxime Gascoigne-de Montigny being about and Carl Leroiderien had seemed like a custodian of the place.  Carl was a caretaker or curator of the sprawling bungalow which now seemed like an historic site. When he was excitedly walking everyone through the place, to show them the place, he was referring to the owner.  I was there but, again, none of these people had any awareness that I was there – not even Merlin.

He was sort of filling them in on who the owner was.  From what I could see, Carl was doing a good job of it. There were cacti that were tall.  There were also red ones.  There was one cactus that was tall and it had needles on it.  It had large, large leaves and two or three leaves like those of a royal palm’s. Most of it was like a palm tree but it was like a breadfruit leaf or some sort of leaf like a maple leaf – albeit an extra large maple leaf.  It was, however, cactus. Everywhere there were plants on either side of the skylight hallways.  The bungalow was a series of long halls that were all connected and veered off in different directions.

However, it was a house that had basically become a living garden such that it was organic.  The cacti truly were the lungs of the house.  The air was really nice and it was cool. The humans were able to live with the cacti because it was a totally self-sustainable dwelling.  As the light came in heliotropically sustaining the various cacti species, it added breath, depth and dimension to the space thereby making it equally organic. Too, because it was partially submerged belowground, there was a lot of moisture from underground that kept these plants alive.  The cacti were quite happy and they had grown so beautifully. It was as if they were bonsai cacti.  It was quite incredible how they were all over the place throughout the house.

Then I went down some steps to another open area of the bungalow.  Again, there were more cacti.  We moved off and came to an area where Carl said, “Oh let’s go downstairs, I can show you the basement.  You can see all these wonderful things.” When you looked out the skylight area, it was of the street, the pathway into what would seem Crab Hill, Sandy Point, St. Kitts.  So I immediately was afraid to be seen yet I was assured by Carl as he stilled my nerves telepathically saying, ‘Oh, it’s okay… it’s okay.’ I was concerned about the people, who lived across the street, reporting me to the militia-types.  There was bamboo, organic bamboo if you like, that was made into a fence. It seemed like the backyard of what was the neighbour’s house and they weren’t there.  I was told it was quite safe that it was okay.  The neighbours weren’t there to squeal on me.

Before you went down the steps, into this other area, there were all these beautiful, beautiful organic works that are quite common in the Orient.  For example there were many objets d’art. These were objets d’art which were beautiful temples and totems.  They were all made from the ivory of elephants’ tusks.  It was all beautifully detailed and in miniature – all the miniature designs were made of ivory. That was the sort of stuff.  This particular objet d’art was large.  It was square-shaped so that it wasn’t like an elephant’s tusk.  More like an obelisk, if you like, it was. They were more so little temples.  They were shrines and Greek temples if you like.  What was truly fascinating was how incredibly detailed they were though scaled down versions of the real architectural gems.

We moved on and now we came to an area that had nothing but wares.  There were lots of baskets everywhere because this was where the ornaments were kept.  They were all stored therein. Carl was the caretaker of these things.  He was quite familiar with every item and, again, there were bamboo basket-like wares and objets d’art. I was told that this was, in fact, like a wine cooler.  It was so delicately and intricately made.  Also, the item was collapsible.  It could open.  The objet d’art was like a valise and it could open up. Merlin went and opened it and was prying into it.  It had two African skulls or heads on it and it was quite beautifully detailed as a matter of fact.

We then moved on and came into the downstairs area.  This place was like a cellar.  Somehow, copious rays of sunlight made it to this part of the sprawling, multi-levelled bungalow. Even though we were further underground yet, somehow, the sunlight came in.  However, I soon realised that it wasn’t sunlight.  It was just this light that was white and somewhat diffuse. It was quite soft and nice to the touch.  Among the many stored wares, there was something that had a white bamboo-like coil.  This thing had a piece of string attached to it with two yellow sticks or shoots like chopsticks.

You could insert it and it was, in fact, quite sexual.  The Mario D’Agostino character immediately grabbed it up.  Whilst simulating sexual play, he was playing around with it. He was making noises filled with sexual innuendo and then said, “Umm, get undressed and put it on your cock because that’s what it’s made for.” Oh he was so happy to perform and went off to try on the item.

*Here now, some further comments set in the dream in the beautiful house.  Here, the atmosphere in this house was one of serenity and it was a reflection of that particular life that one had led whence the proprietor was Black. Tall and very erudite, he seemed a man of the world.  He was well-travelled.  He loved beautiful music and he had a collection of things in his bedroom that were totems from his travels. He was obviously tall because there were lots of khaki and white summer pants which all gave a sense of his height.  When I had first entered into the room, there was also a rack that I had bumped into. I hadn’t noticed it because it was suspended from the ceiling.  It was racked with leather suspenders and an enormous collection of belts: broad belts, narrow belts, as well, skinny belts.

There were all kinds of beautiful belts.  They were very expensive and they were also very organic and ancient.  They weren’t brand new any of them. It was all a reflection of the person’s spirit.  You never met the person but you knew the person through the house.  It was beautiful and wonderfully planned out. The sprawling, organic bungalow was so multidimensional; it went off in all these directions and avenues because that was who this person was in that lifetime.  In a box to call home, he was not contained or restrained. The organic house constantly veered off.  It had many apartments and veered off and had many cul de sacs.  There were areas where he could go and be removed from all the other areas yet be surrounded by plants.

At all times, he was surrounded by life itself and it was healthy… quite nice. Whilst at the restaurant having the lentil-looking soup, the reason for the extra-tall, obvious extra-human being impatient with me was more subtle than one may assume.  With their sophisticated proboscis, it is safe to assume that smell was the most developed of this extra-human race’s senses rather than sight as is the case for we humans. Likely, there was something very off-putting to my pheromone makeup which left the seated extra-human uncomfortable.  I don’t think that it was a matter of my race, Black, but my species, Earthly human, which made the über-poilu, blond extra-human uncomfortable.

As I was in his home world, he naturally felt put upon for having the unfavourable aspects of my pheromones anywhere near him.  At the end of the day, he was an incarnate ensouled fragment who is one of seven soul types and with the same selection of overleaves as any Earthly human.  Any Earthly human would have similarly responded to having someone of outré pheromone and species in their midst.  

A very serene dream it remarkably was.  END.

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Groovin’ High, Dizzy Gillespie 1955

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

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©2013-2025 Arvin da Brgha. All Rights Reserved.