I have always admired this Queen, Margrethe II, and it never failed to impress on me that she is possessed of three 7s. That’s a powerhouse. Thus it was that during her New Year’s message when she announced that she was going to abdicate on January 14, 2024, the 52nd anniversary of her ascension, I wickedly howled then exclaimed, “And that is how you whack a piñata!” Despite that little battyfaced fabulist in the Fisher Price château, spending 25 minutes talking readily fished filler on Google, I knew without doubt Margrethe II’s reason for abdicating – the Danish constitution forbids the monarch from divorcing!
Crown Princess Mary of Denmark, breaks down in public whilst in New Zealand
So as the beautiful Crown Princess Mary had a meltdown in New Zealand over the Christmas break after being humilated by that orbital minor aristocrat with big dreams inspired by Queen Camilla, at all of three 7s, Margrethe had other ideas. No, indeed, unlike her recently departed third cousin, HLM Queen Elizabeth II, Margrethe II had no intentions of having her beloved grandchildren (Crown Prince Christian, Princess Isabella, Prince Vincent & Princess Josephine) endure the mental/emotional stress of a divorce’s fallout. Like a truly shrewd/amoral woman with first number of 7, Margrethe II signed the abdication papers at the Danish Parliament, got up, her grandson, Crown Prince Christian handed her, her cane and with that she announced, “God Save The King” turned and walked out, all before King Frederik X could sign and thus officially become king.
Trying to force a divorce by calling the paparazzi and masquerading the morning after in Madrid
Two libidinous piñatas whacked with the stroke of a pen. No need, lovely Mary to feel dispair and break down in public, Margrethe II has got things in control. Margrethe II was Queen for half a century; she’s got balls and knows her power. No protracted drama in the tabloids of cheating, scandals, separation, divorce and a possible remarriage replete with mariachi band for aspirant Danish Camilla.
King Frederik X & Queen Mary, January 14, 2024, Copenhagen
So before you could fan yourself and throw some serious side eye, Conchita deleted her social media presence within days of Mary rightfully taking her place in history as Queen, not having been divorced and dispensed with à la Diana, Princess of Wales to be replaced by a Camilla full of fillers. In short order, Margrethe II signed those documents, grabbed her cane and declared, ‘Now get out there and make my grandchildren’s mother, Mary, your Queen!” Damn right, Margrethe II does not run a pantomime.
George, Louis, Catherine & King Charles III at Sandringham, Christmas Day, 2023
Speaking of piñatas getting whacked… On Boxing Day, (December 26, 2023) I awoke from a rather lucid dream that was brief but potent; it was the last dream before awaking that day in late afternoon. In this the final dream, I came to where there was a couple engaged in kinky sexual play. Initially, the couple’s identity was not readily discernible as I came to in midstride into a bedroom where the couples heads were closer to me and down. Over the bottom’s right shoulder, the top partner’s head was buried whilst aggressively ploughing the bottom whose hands were bound to the bedposts with head turned away to left; the bottom was clearly gagged. The room was dimly lit and sparsely furnished. Ritualised, the couple hardly made noise, save for the bed’s motion; it was rough play.
Rough Play Bed
Abruptly, the top got from the bed and it proved to be Catherine; she would stilettos, a glossy PVC black bodysuit and wore a rather large-headed, upturned strapon. Aggressively, she took her leave of the room with William, #Peggalicius, remaining in bed spent. Prior to that, I had come to in another dream encounter with Catherine. This time, I onlooked as she arrived on what I assumed was Mustique where traditionally the family vacations at the home of the late Princess Margaret. This, though, was much too heavily trafficked; there were lots of yachts in the crystalline waters. I decided that for such a private island, there were too many super yachts here. Could it be St. Thomas U. S. Virgin Islands; however, there were no cruise ships. Not until several days later, in mid-January did the dream’s locale make sense. I then realised that the dream undoubtedly was set in St. Barths.
I swooped down from onhigh, after having arrived in an intensely lucid flying dream. I alighted and as I walked unobserved, I knew that my astrally projected dream body remained invisible. I strode along after a party of about eight persons. I continued on as the party was well removed from the noise and play of the wealthy persons about. There was a tall woman in a colourful muumuu, wearing a broadrimmed straw hat, large shades with blonde hair that bobbed at her shoulders. Stunned was I as I watched the overweight woman, once in a large private suite, get out of a fatsuit, toss aside the blonde wig on the bed, revealing that it was Catherine in disguise. She then came outside to a walled courtyard where a riot of creaping bourgainvillea blooms crowned the awning, affording shade and privacy. She sat in a long white lounge chair, wearing large predatory black shades whilst firmly speaking to someone on the large white phone; her tone was raspish, vile… predatory.
As with the preceding dream, it was dreamt on the eve of the73rd birthday of Prince Charles, the Prince of Wales in November, 2021. Readily, I committed the dream to this blog as I instinctually knew that HM The Queen would pass within the coming year; the following early September, 2022, she passed. There would be little credibility to the dream if I were to have shared it after The Queen’s passing. I awoke and knew straight away that I had to share the prophetic dream. So, too, were these sequential dreams of Catherine, Princess of Wales on Boxing Day, 2023, possessed of the sense of knowing and they were dreams which presaged things to come.
Top to Bottom: Centuries Old English Oak, Cedar of Lebanon at Althorp House & Millennial Yew
The next dream of a senior royal occurred just a couple of days after New Year’s Day, 2024. Since becoming sovereign in September, 2022, it was the first dream had of King Charles III. It is not uncommon to dream of persons with whom you have past life history that was positive; if they happen to be famous and thus recognisable from the waking state in the dreamtime, it is rare. Most times, such persons may well be alive but unkown to self and therefore a mystery though familiar in the dreamtime. This dream was one of high moment. HM King Charles III wore the most glorious saffron robe that was not golden and it draped on the zingy grass after him.
Just as in the above dream entitled, “Come on, Let’s Go For A Ride!” All the trees here as in that park were perfectly shaped into topiary tuning forks. They were massive on the order of the giant redwoods of the American northwest; however, here these trees easily were thrice as tall as those ones. The air was pure and inordinately oxygen rich. There were only three types of trees in the dream as represented above: oaks, evergreens and yews, each a colassal trunked column whose branches halved and towered upwards forming perfect tuning forks. I had been in this place before, though, never with Merlin. I had been measurably gliding along drinking in the super negative ions of the place, upping my frequency in the process. I had thrown open my eyes and seen King Charles III coming towards me. Immediately, his exposed hands did not betray the thickened fingers of the waking state; they were long digits that were fluid, sensitive… creative. His age here betrayed his agedness of spirit; King Charles III is a seventh level mature warrior soul – Prince Archie, by the way, is also seventh level mature but a priest soul. They are both the oldest souls of all the senior royals whose overleaves I am aware of. These three majestic arborial species were triple-rowed and along a wide path that easily was wider and longer by ten times than both Windsor Castle’s and Blenheim Palace’s long walks.
Buster Meditating in Pyramid flanked by three George Hawkens, A Bill Reid & A Henry Moore
Comfortably ensconced in my trusty pyramid and lucidly self-aware, I began upping my vibration, drawing in the power and frequency of the trees about me. Swirling about me, the energy soon took on hues of blue-white light, which I directed upwards and outwards whilst King Charles III stood comfortably distant. The light grew more intense, the power more potent until effortlessly my lids fluttered and I awoke with the crystals still in place at the chakra points which rarely they remain during sleep.
Harry & his pa, Charles and his darling boy
Days later, as I looked at live TV, Prince Charles’s former communications secretary, Kristina Kyriacou, said on ITV, “No one could make Prince Charles laugh louder than Prince Harry could…” At that moment, you could have heard a pin drop; no one was better placed to have known this. Indeed, half of King Charles III’s healing was doubtless affected as Prince Harry walked into the salon at Clarence House and they greeted each other, “Hi pa” “Oh my darling boy,” they hugged and both lost tears. Nothing else, not the fabulist bullshit of that battyfaced crossdresser or the other royal experts whether outed by Archie Manners or not – they are all the fucking same… blithering, snobbish, bullshit artists.
EE BAFTA Awards Statuets
Talk about guilty conscience. Just looked at the 2024 EE BAFTA Awards and darling, I honestly had no clue that the shitty li’l racist island’s BAFTAs was specifically an awards ceremony for Blacks. Naturally, as #Peggalicious is president of BAFTA, the #EtonianPoofter has seen fit to fight back against the family having been categorically outed in Omid Scobie’s Endgame as dire anti-Black racists – as if it were not readily obvious at Prince Harry & Meghan’s wedding. Of course, going by those dreams, King Charles III would turn out to be stricken with cancer, hence the giant yew trees in the energy transference dream encounter – extracts from yew bark is used in cancer treatments. Of course, what better way to be rid of the otiose #Middledumb zombie but to push for a divorce. Naturally, as all is slight of hand with The Firm, Catherine has been mysteriously ill and indisposed for a least several months – has she been embalmed and The Firm awaiting the right time to stage the news and disposal. As per the dream, I rather suspect that whilst at Sandringham at Christmas, #Peggalicious violently demanded a divorce, #Middledumb the mute dominatrix, fled to Bucklebury and hightailed it to St. Barths by private jet, in cropped blonde wig and fatsuit no less, where for now, she is staying put with 80m£ worth of missing royal jewels.
HM King James I & his lover, George Villiers the Duke of Buckingham
Christian Jones, the Duke of Buckingham & Norfolk and Peggalicious besotted & Incandescent
Certainly, I cannot see them offering #Middledumb more than 40m£ to go away. Naturally, she has taken flight, not wanting to suffer the same fate that befell the eternally beautiful, Diana, Princess of Wales. It most certainly will be interesting to see if in due course, #Peggalicious makes Christian Jones, Duke of Buckingham & Norfolk; King James I certainly set the tone when making his lover, George Villiers, the Duke of Buckingham.
#Middlemuted Missing but is she missed?
Is it piñata whacking time one wonders?
At the one hour & twelfth minute mark of this landmark live performance in New York City on December 4, 1992, Diana Ross performs the best rendition of Strange Fruit since Billie Holiday. And what a stellar assembly of Jazz musicians it was!
Liner Notes:
Arranged By [Music Arranged By] – Gil Askey [The BIg Band], Alto Saxophone – Frank Wess (tracks: 15 to 18), Justin Robinson (tracks: 15 to 18) [The BIg Band], Baritone Saxophone – Gary Smulyan (tracks: 15 to 18) [The BIg Band], Bass – Ron Carter (tracks: 15 to 18) [The BIg Band], Drums – Grady Tate (tracks: 15 to 18) [The BIg Band], Guitar – Ted Dunbar (tracks: 15 to 18) [The BIg Band], Piano – Barry Harris (2) (tracks: 15 to 18) [The BIg Band], Tenor Saxophone – Jerome Richardson (tracks: 15 to 18), Ralph Moore (2) (tracks: 15 to 18) [The BIg Band], Trombone – Garnett Brown (tracks: 15 to 18), Slide Hampton (tracks: 15 to 18), Urbie Greene* (tracks: 15 to 18) [The BIg Band], Trumpet – Gil Askey (tracks: 15 to 18), John Longo (tracks: 15 to 18), Jon Faddis (tracks: 16 to 19), Roy Hargrove (tracks: 15 to 18), Stanton Davis (tracks: 15 to 18) [The Band], Alto Saxophone – Justin Robinson (tracks: 1 to 10) [The Band], Bass – Ron Carter (tracks: 1 to 10) [The Band], Drums – Grady Tate (tracks: 1 to 10) [The Band], Guitar – Ted Dunbar (tracks: 1 to 10) [The Band], Piano – Barry Harris (2) (tracks: 1 to 10) [The Band], Tenor Saxophone – Ralph Moore (2) (tracks: 1 to 10) [The Band], Trombone – Urbie Greene* (tracks: 1 to 10) [The Band], Trumpet – Gil Askey (tracks: 1 to 10), Jon Faddis (tracks: 1 to 10), Roy Hargrove (tracks: 1 to 10) [The Sextet], Drums – Grady Tate (tracks: 11 to 14) [The Sextet], Piano – Bobby Tucker (tracks: 11 to 14) [The Sextet], Tenor Saxophone – Jerome Richardson (tracks: 11 to 14) [The Sextet], Trombone – Garnett Brown (tracks: 11 to 14) [The Sextet], Trumpet – Gil Askey (tracks: 11 to 14), Jon Faddis (tracks: 11 to 14) Executive Producer – Diana Ross Leader [Music Director] – Jon Faddis Producer – Ben Sidran ____________________________________________________________________
Rage! Especially at a time like this, rage is the passion one feels at you having the audacity to speciously claim that Jazz has its roots in Klezmer… live on-air! You just know that faster than a sneeze, I was manically dialling up JazzFM and vituperatively emasculating the little fabulist fraud. You can squat all over the culture all you want; however, you are to Jazz what wings are to ostriches. Seriously, what do ostriches know of flight? More to the point, eagles do not give a goddamn that ostriches have wings. The audacity of you as one, enraptured by the language of Jazz, stratospherically soars twenty thousand feet above the oddity of you stealing, squatting… noise-making! Happy Black history month. Jazz, above all else, is the spiritual manifestation of that intensely enriched Black history!
Spike Milligan Presented with Lifetime Achievement Award, British Comedy Awards, 1994.
Also, at the 1994 British Comedy Awards, hosted by Jonathan Ross, Neil Simon and his then wife and a rather ravishing Maureen Lipman, who hysterically buries her face into the table, among other luminaries. Of course, Spike’s biting humour came a year after Caligula II’s salacious recorded utterances were published, thereby setting the tone for the coming Second Caligulan Age. After having made it perfectly clear to Prince Harry that he did not want ‘her’ (Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex and Harry’s wife) at Balmoral at the passing of HLM Queen Elizabeth II, Catherine The Princess of Wales was left behind so that it would not appear as though Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex was being targeted.
As ever, Incitatus comes between Caligula II and his Courtesan Queen
Alas, as with the royal pantomime, there are no secrets and sooner or later the truth surfaces. The shitty little grovelling bastard, Caligula II, with his male lover ubiquitously two steps behind him and always closer to him than his Queen, had his coronation on Prince Archie of Sussex’s fourth birthday so that Meghan would seemingly have the excuse of not attending to be with her son on his birthday – god only knows human children cannot fly intercontinentally before the age of ten.
Incitatus
The lover masquerading as manservant/bodyguard. What bodyguard/servant sits behind the King in the royal box? What bodyguard/servant stands at the coronation, clutching his white gloves, hands looking as unbruised and delicate like those of a pampered male lover? Indeed, whereas Her Late Majesty Queen Elizabeth II favoured four-legged equine fare as royals have a keen affinity for horses, Jonny is nothing more than Caligula II’s three-legged Incitatus. Together, all alone at Highgrove House, whilst the fugly beard drinks and reads at Ray Mill House, what exactly do you think that they get up to? Clearly, they aren’t crocheting doilies for her to cover her fugly mug. Look at the way the manservant/lover disrobed Caligula II in the Abbey, for all the world to see, with a seductive delicacy that the toadying power-mad stud knew, would later be praised as the grovelling little bastard, Caligula II, begged to have Incitatus give it to him good… yet again.
Lucille Bogan Singing Caligula II & his Manservant/Lover through their all-night boogie
How like a three-legged Incitatus, this beauteous equine specimen is possessed of beauty to beguile any man; this Incitatus provokes the same passionate response as her racing steeds did HLM Queen Elizabeth II. These powerful rulers, drunk on power and too old and powerful to give a goddamn what the world thinks, want nothing but the best, get nothing but the best. I rather suspect that this rotation of lovers, conspicuous or not, is why Michael Fawcett was put out to pasture. No longer able to canter and stud between the royal sheets, Michael well past his cum-shooting prime, was callously replaced. This, of course, occurred in stages. This kilted Highgrove House ‘Grey’ served his apprenticeship by being within HLM Queen Elizabeth II’s orbit, effectively gaslighting the kingdom.
“Well, will you look at that, he’s got his lover sat right here in the royal box,” HRH Prince Richard The Duke of Gloucester must have thought as he peered across at the kilted Incitatus in their midst.
Naturally, at Her Late Majesty’s passing, kilted Jonny moving into position behind Caligula II, would not be cause for rumour. There was Incitatus ‘sat’ in the royal box behind Caligula II at his first Remembrance celebration at the Royal Albert Hall in November, 2022 as Sovereign/God/King/Caesar relished his reign as Caligula II at the dawn of the Second Caligulan Age. How many times before leaving to join the dog-faced beard on duty in service to the little bothersome people, did Caligula II engage in some lusty groping up kilt and heavy face-fucking then doing so on returning and being alone in his quarters with the Highgrove/Clarence House Grey stallion, virile with masterful stamina whose prostate has not yet begun to enlarge?
Caligula II & Michael Fawcett
Indeed, just like Angela Kelly was thrown to the dogs, so too did Caligula II have Michael Fawcett put out to pasture, redundant and spent his prostate enlarged. After having waited all these decades, Caligula II flexing his talons has been rapaciously vile, including, evicting Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex and his marvellously articulate and elegant wife, Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex from Frogmore Cottage. Just as well as they were paying 18 times as much in annual rent than that barrel-hipped paedophile with the carrier Porchester scoliosis gene at Royal Lodge, which is infinitely larger than the Sussex-renovated abode to which the now American habituated royals fled, to escape the racial animus of the now Waleses and their sycophantic royal household staffers.
Water colour of Sandringham House by HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales, King Charles III
Never mind Caligula II’s watercolours, how many nude portraits of his prized three-legged Incitatus exist in various stages of tumescence? These indeed are the tableaux well worth seeing than these genteel, fluid, jolly gay attempts at creative genius, which look more becoming of his gin-sodden grandmother, not the lunatic one, the maternal one.
Caligula II
Yes, indeed, this truly is the Second Caligulan Age, right down to the three-legged Incitatus. Debauched, buggered and besotted, fatty fingers Caligula II is drunk with power but most of all drunk in lust, as the little grovelling bastard night and day yearns for his coveted Incitatus.
Diana, Princess of Wales
First he had his wife, Diana, Princess of Wales murdered as he never could stand being in her presence. She was too beautiful; she was competition. Indeed, there could only be one Queen, never two. He needed a beard, an inconsequential confidante who was neither competition nor remotely loveable. Just someone to masquerade as the epitome of the beau idéal spouse. Of course, with Earl Mountbatten stage-managing all this mid-century pantomime, it all seemed to be going so smoothly. Then the sodomite got blown to bits for being a predatory paedophile of the poor inconsequential peasants’ little boys or so he thought. Thereafter, his acolyte, Caligula II, has had to very impatiently stage-manage his pantomime with far too much interference from his Tiger mother, HLM Queen Elizabeth II, with whom he could never, as a Rat, have enjoyed anything beyond grudging relations.
Restored Ugly Duchess. The Courtesan Queen
The Courtesan Queen was the ideal partner after Diana’s murder; such a spouse would have no qualms about not cohabiting when she knows that the very smell of women makes Caligula II grossly uncomfortable. Get a blithering idiot who is forever fidgeting, breaks protocol at every turn and someone of moderately keen acting skills, who does know just-so, how to behave in public and makes sure to be rude and dismissive of the untouchable non-Whites.
Queen of the Blackamoors
Deliberately, the Queen of the Blackamoors is not the centre of the frame, rather she is to the side and the mantel filled with possible blackamoor candelabras, is the photograph’s focal point.Openly ridiculing Inuit throat singers, brushing off Scottish First Minister Nicola Sturgeon, brushing off Maori dancers performing haka, fidgeting with hair as crown is placed on head at Westminster Abbey. Why pray tell must you aesthetically prey on us? Go on then, stick your hand out and call your broom; you’ve long overstayed your welcome.
The Dying Queen
Impatient with having to play second fiddle to the old death-evading crone, did Caligula II also have her knocked off? Send her to Balmoral and make sure she doesn’t come back after the summer break. She got a good send off at the Platinum Jubilee, no need to let her slip on by; before you know what, Caligula II would have to be planning for the old crone’s Oak Jubilee. Besides, HRH Prince Philip The Duke of Edinburgh, whom he truly feared, was gone. Caligula II was free to do as he pleased, without being berated by Philip and reminded of what a damn failure he is.
Perhaps, that is why I dreamt of her passing on the very eve of Caligula II’s birthday in 2021; the prophetic dream was also indicating, who would be the cause of her death. HLM Queen Elizabeth II was found face down on the floor in the morning of September 8, 2022 by staffers. Look at that final photograph of the late Queen, the back of her right hand is almost blackened as though she was on intravenous drugs and likely morphine. Trust you me, if like Tiberius he had to suffocate his mother with a pillow, Caligula II would not think twice. Caligula II is the oldest soul member of the senior royals whose Michael overleaves have been channelled and as such, he has a depth of complexity and what would seem like amoral resolve that would incite fear in everyone in that family.
John Hurt as Caligula I & Sian Phillips as Livia in I, Claudius
Two days later, HLM The Queen was found face down, dead in her bedroom. Had she been assisted or simply overdosed by Caligula II, who was done waiting forever? Diana after all was murdered. How like Caligula II, after having forced Queen Elizabeth II to speciously claim that when the time comes, she would like Camilla, the Courtesan Queen, to be known as the Queen Consort, not have had the old crone discourteously sent packing, much like Angela Kelly. Just as one would expect nothing less from Caligula II’s namesake, there was that fidgeting adulterous misanthrope, being crowned Queen not quite 8 months later. Queen my ass!
Incitatus disrobes Caligula II
Ageing Caligula II was done waiting, with his abusive pa dead and gone, time to dispense with the old crone. A Saturn Return earlier, Caligula II was openly ridiculed throughout the kingdom as at the British Comedy Awards of 1994; thus his soul was corrupted. Wounded at being the butt of the kingdom’s jokes, Caligula II damn well had to lash out. For now, Caligula II couldn’t wait for his kilted lover to disrobe him before the world and rub him the right way behind the screen with the holy oil. In all of this, his heir of Bourbon blood, has his statuesque son stand next to the sibling of his love child with his mistress, Countess Rocksavage, whose queer husband lives fulltime in Paris with his male lover, whilst they served as pages carrying his step granddad, Caligula II’s ermine robe.
Though he was with a group of 12 and 13-year olds, a very tall 9-year old HRH Prince George of Wales performed handsomely on the day. L-R Lord Cholmondeley (13), Prince George of Wales (9), Nicholas Barclay (13) & Ralph Tollemarche (12).
That’s right pepper mouth souce his ass.
After he and Caligula II had yelled and screamed at Prince Harry at the Sandringham House summit, as we now know, thanks to Prince Harry’s SPARE, there was The Late Queen Elizabeth II being a real pepper mouth, telling off William as he and his inarticulate, racist wife were the architects of the Sussexes’ departure from the kingdom; not of course were they acting without the tacit approval of Caligula II and his kilted lover, Incitatus plus the fugly beard, the Courtesan Queen.
Caligula II 14/11/48 London
Michael: Caligula II is a seventh-level mature warrior. Caligula IIis in observation mode, with a goal of acceptance and attitude of pragmatist; Caligula II is in the moving part of intellectual centre.
Caligula II’s body type is Mercury-Saturn.
Caligula II’s primary chief feature is stubbornness, secondary is self-deprecation.
Caligula II has an incarnate warrior essence twin with no plans to meet and a discarnate priest task companion, who does exert considerable influence on him.
Caligula II‘s casting, which is virtually the same as Robert Bateman’s, is entity two, cadre four, greater cadre 16, pod/node 404. Caligula II is second-cast in a fourth cadence, entity four, cadre four, greater cadre 16, pod/node 404.
*These Michael Overleaves were channelled by a channel in the original Michael group who was part of the composite Jessica Lansing in the Michael books by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro. I worked with her for 2.5 years before her passing in the late 90s. She dismissed all Michael channels as fraud save two, one of whom I have worked with over the years. As these overleaves were not requested by myself, I do not know past life connections to either Merlin or me.
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Caligula II
Caligula II happens to be the oldest soul of the senior royals whose overleaves to date have been channelled. I do not know the soul ages of the following royals, senior or minor: HRH Princess Anne, The Princess Royal, Tim Lawrence, Captain Mark Philips, Zara Tindall, Mike Tindall and their three issue, Peter Philips, Autumn Philips and their two issue, Prince Andrew, Duke of York, Sarah, Duchess of York, HRH Princess Beatrice of York, Edoardo Mapelli Mozzi and their daughter Sienna, HRH Princess Charlotte of Wales, HRH Prince Louis of Wales, HRH Prince Edward, The Duke of Edinburgh, Sophie, HRH The Duchess of Edinburgh their issue, Lady Louise of Wessex and James, The Earl of Wessex. I could very well see HRH Princess Eugenie of York being warrior-souled as for that matter, both Princess Anne and her daughter Zara Tindall. Princess Eugenie’s very strong numerology and her being born in the year of the Horse, would have her call bullshit on Prince William, The Prince of Wales in a heartbeat. Warriors tend to be wary of scholars and of course, as is obvious with Catherine, The Princess of Wales, Eugenie is the dominant partner in her marriage to Jack Brooksbank. All warriors regardless of sex, will be the dominant partner in their relationships. Also, the fact that she is rather close to and loyal to warrior soul, Prince Harry, would suggest Princess Eugenie being warrior-souled if not an entity mate of the late QEII, Harry and Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex.
Caligula II
As it is territory with which I am only too well familiar, being seventh-level mature, makes Caligula II the most complex, volatile, vicious and feared royal. Caligula II’s latter day Milonia Caesonia – of no discernible couth and as Seutonius prophetically described ‘neither beautiful nor young,’ the Courtesan Queen, is no match for him; she also happens to be a third mature scholar soul – same age as Meghan. This is why the Courtesan Queen is always seemingly so shell-shocked, forever fidgeting and never knowing whether coming or going as her circuitry is so perpetually jammed by his reptilian hissing. Caligula II & Peggalicious both have goals of Acceptance but with chief features of Stubbornness, which means that they are never fully at ease and are given to being snobbish boors who are inclined to being prejudicial, to all out racist. Clearly, the jury is not still out on this; the truth of who these two are, is plainly obvious. Incidentally, Prince William, The Prince of Wales is sixth mature Scholar and the only other channelled royal, who is older-souled than Prince William, is HRH Prince Archie of Sussex, who is a seventh mature Priest soul with rather mellow older-souled overleaves.
HLM Queen Elizabeth’s casket is lowered into the royal vault at Windsor Castle
One of the main takeaways from the Sussexes’ interview with Oprah was how many times, they went to great lengths to point out that HLM The Queen was always so good and accessible and was very inviting and encouraging of American thespian, Meghan into the family. After having buried both the obstacles to his power, Philip and Elizabeth, we now see that Caligula II having been the true power behind Elizabeth’s reign and certainly so by the time that Meghan came along. It is obvious that Elizabeth sanctioned Harry’s marriage to the Black American; however, had Elizabeth died within a couple of years of Diana, Princess of Wales’s murder, Prince Harry likely would not have been allowed to marry Meghan. It is highly improbable that either Caligula II or his Courtesan Queen would have sanctioned a royal marriage between Prince Harry and the Black Yank, Meghan. With Queen Elizabeth II removed from the scene, everything became fully focussed and there could be no mistaking where the palace machinations originate.
TRH Prince William & Catherine of Wales
Yes, the now Waleses played their part; however, they are so caught up in their own war of the Waleses that they were not the main catalyst for Meghan becoming a ‘non-working royal’ which of course is a fabricated term as there is simply no such damn thing. With Meghan having left the kingdom and levelled the very damning charge of suffocating racism against the House of Windsor, though the royals have lied and protested a bit too much, the fact remains, the flat-assed, pretentious eurotrash boor did wear a blackamoor brooch to TLQ’s Buckingham Palace Christmas lunch in 2017. Though Prince William weakly protested, by claiming a double negative, he readily outed his family and royal households as the racist boors that they are, Caligula II though has been viciously vengeful towards Meghan, for having revealed their ugly truth. Consequently, Caligula II has been working overtime to gaslight the commonwealth’s Blacks that all is well with the House of Windsor with regards race. Well Clearly Rihanna, a baroness in her own right, was not buying their lie and there went the Sovereign as head of state of Barbados within a year of Elizabeth’s death and just after I had had that rather prophetic dream of Queen Elizabeth II’s passing on the eve of Caligula II’s 73rd birthday in November, 2021.
Caligula II, HRH Prince Andrew, The Duke of York & HRH Prince Henry, The Duke of Sussex
Three pivotal men in the House of Windsor are born in the year of the Rat and with all such males, there will be trouble afoot on the home front. Caligula II is born in 1948, his brother Prince Andrew with whom he does not get along and then Prince Harry, his son, who, like Caligula II, is also a warrior soul. You can always count on warriors to add fire to any drama. Both Caligula II and Prince Andrew have 5 in the fourth position, which brings with it sexual infamy and usually something to do with homosexual scandal and more often than not sex with minors directly or by association. Prince Andrew is guilty of the latter and Caligula II is guilty by association with Jimmy Saville and his same-sex proclivities have been known for decades. A friend of Merlin’s went to school with Caligula II so I do know what I know. Caligula II 14.11.1948 Rat 5.7.2 = 5. Prince Andrew 19.2.1960 Rat 1.3.1 = 5 and Prince Harry 15.9.1984 Rat 6.6.1 = 4. Prince Harry is a completely different kettle of fish to his father, Caligula II, and uncle, Prince Andrew. Though, I do not know Prince Andrew’s Michael overleaves, I rather suspect that he is not an older soul than either his brother or nephew. The Late Queen Elizabeth II, Caligula II, William & Catherine TRH Prince & Princess of Wales are all possessed of a chief feature of stubbornness; this leaves them all with the inability to embrace change and to admit to being wrong. They are also all supreme shit disturbers. Of the principal royals: the Late Queen, Caligula II, Camilla, William, Catherine, Harry, Meghan and Prince George, Prince Harry along with Prince Philip are the only sceptics, which means that both warriors (Philip is a fourth mature warrior) see straight through all BS and call BS and will wage war until the last man drops. Prince Harry is assured that he is right. Prince Harry has a goal of growth and his secondary rather than primary chief feature, is stubbornness, which means he will not settle for any injustice and being told that truth and justice cannot prevail against all else. With the Late Queen, Prince Philip, Caligula II, Catherine, William all having a chief feature of stubbornness, they have/had no desire for the media/Fleet Street abattoirs to be challenged as it could bring about change that could prove disadvantageous. All persons in stubbornness do not like change, including a Black woman, a Black Yank marrying in.
Diana, Princess of Wales & Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex
Quick departure. To be seventh mature soul (Caligula II – warrior) is like an old soul to a sixth mature (Prince William – scholar). The vast wealth of knowledge and awareness between soul levels is just as vast as that between a young soul and an old soul. Of all the royals, what makes Prince William so difficult is that he is in the intellectual part of moving centre. All the others whose overleaves have been channelled, are in the moving part of intellectual centre. There are only two exceptions: Diana, Princess of Wales and Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex. Both are artisan souls, Diana second mature and Meghan third mature – the latter same soul age as the Courtesan Queen who is a third mature scholar. What made both Diana and Meghan such a problem for the senior royals, is that both are in the moving part of emotional centre. This is the greatest disposition for a truly gifted actor. Meghan has an emotional intelligence that stratospherically towers above all the other royals. This similitude to Diana, Princess of Wales, his mum, is what apart from the fact that they are entity mates, would have attracted Prince Harry to Meghan. She is uncannily similar to his mum and Prince William would also have found this unsettling.
Diana, Princess of Wales & Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex
Both Diana and Meghan were born to be senior royal women fully equipped for the modern age of meet and greet, exceptional charisma, and be exquisitely photogenic; this is what artisan souls do best and it helped enormously that Meghan had acted. The camera equally loved both women; additionally, Meghan had mastered the art of being on. Sadly, as baroness Marie-Christine demonstrated, the island kingdom dwellers were not prepared to have their millennia-aged iconography corrupted by descendants of the enslaved, certainly not Caligula II, the little grovelling bastard.
HLM Queen Elizabeth II
The Queen was a realist with a goal of dominance, she would not have feared Meghan marrying in; HLM The Queen would have perceived the union of Prince & Princess Henry of Sussex as advantageous to the Crown. HLM The Queen knew Meghan to be an asset with great appeal to the commonwealth; she also knew her at soul centre as Meghan, Harry & HLM The Queen are entity mates. However, The Queen’s heirs and Catherine did not see it this way. Prince Harry marrying Meghan was seen as a betrayal by Caligula II, Courtesan Queen & TRH Prince & Princess of Wales.
Baroness Marie-Christine, Princess Michael of Kent
That flat-arsed woman and her uncouth open racial attack on Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex, was obviously the tip of the iceberg of abuse to which Meghan was being subjected within the palace, from the royal households and other principals, not just Prince William and Catherine, The Princess of Wales. As is plainly now obvious, Caligula II and the Courtesan Queen also played their part in sabotaging Meghan’s royal life. Because the principal players all possess(ed) a chief feature of stubbornness, their handling of this incident would prove catastrophic for the House of Windsor with nasty repercussions. Straight away, they should have seen the importance of Meghan far outweighed that of the Prince & Princess Michaels of Kent. If anyone is truly non-working royal, which is a fabricated term to racially ostracise Meghan, it is baroness Marie-Christine, the Eurotrash pretentious boor, who is in the same league as the Jamaican fabulist of obvious gender treachery. Baroness Marie-Christine and her husband should simply have been evicted from Kensington Palace – like Caligula II has callously done The Sussexes from Frogmore Cottage – and made to live offsite somewhere in Mayfair or elsewhere, just as Caligula II has done Angela Kelly. There was no greater value for dollar to the monarchy of the Prince & Princess Michael of Kent over the Duke & Duchess of Sussex – age, diversity, charisma and appeal. Nonetheless, Meghan was too great an affront to the stubborn-focussed Elizabeth II, Caligula II, William and Catherine, Meghan instead simply had to go.
HM Queen Elizabeth II
The time to have acted was swiftly, decisively, back in December, 2017 and not let things fester in the hope that the exposed anti-Black racism of senior and minor royals would simply go away. Of course, when it all came undone, they began blaming that problem ‘Yank’ and talked crap about “recollections may vary.” The hell they don’t! Every Black in the commonwealth diaspora saw the blackamoor brooch worn by Baroness Marie-Christine and our hearts sank, knowing the sheer hell to which Meghan clearly was being subjected. Guilty as all hell of having made Meghan’s life living hell, all the major principals chose to go with their chief features of stubbornness; they simply ignored the little negro Yank (Meghan) and began clawing at every well-placed Black in the island kingdom and their shadow. Of course, what had been done to Diana, Princess of Wales was being meted out to Meghan – let her self-destruct.
Princess Margaret, Countess Snowdon & King George VI’s Equerry Captain Peter Townsend
Recently, I was invited to a lovely Sunday brunch in one of the ubiquitous much-too-tall condos – 58th storey suite with views south to more condos, blocking any chance of seeing Lake Ontario – 46% of all construction cranes in North America are in Toronto. Invariably, talk turned towards the House of Windsor. One guest, Alexandra, was a charming, flame-haired, ancient beauty, well into her tenth decade, began casting light on the Late Queen whom, she assured us, no one truly knew. Born in Rhodesia, like all moneyed Whites, her family had a farm in Africa… charmant. In any event, eventually, she would move to South Africa and when Nazi sympathiser, President P. W. Botha appeared intent on race war or genocide, she and family left Cape Town and settled in Toronto.
Trooping the Colour, Horse Guards Parade early 20th century
Her only husband would recently die during the Covid pandemic. Though she also had Covid, she has survived and lived on, being pleasantly eccentric with a razor sharp wit, crystalline memory and the warmest blues eyes. Her father had been high up in the military and his family had served the monarchy for the last two plus centuries. Thus it was that she travelled from Rhodesia each June, for two months, in London. They took in the trooping the colour ceremony, the Royal Ascot and visited relations who lived equally baronially.
Buckingham Palace Garden Party early 20th century
She attended garden parties at Buckingham Palace when a teen; there, she met both Princesses Elizabeth and Margaret, her contemporaries, the latter being much more handsome than her sister, she authoritatively stated. Then talk turned to what a not pleasant character the late Queen was. As the story goes, the royals had hectares next to her colonial family’s hectares in Rhodesia and it was there that Princess Margaret was sent by the Queen and whilst waiting, told that the dashing King’s equerry, Margaret’s lover, Captain Peter Townsend, would not be joining her in Rhodesia after all. Townsend had been banished to Belgium instead and that was that. Well, my darlings, according to the fascinating guest, Margaret had a complete breakdown of operatic proportions, screamed, wailed night and day and ran about naked and set fire to one of the houses on the vast estate. Obviously, the Queen was well familiar with Margaret’s temperament so had sequestered her in the colonies where her expected breakdown would be well out of reach of the London media.
Meghan, Harry & Prince Archie Vancouver Island, Canada
Said Alexandra, if it proves a problem, simply ship it offshore with talk of things getting well soon, only to have the rug pulled out from under the disposed bother. What Meghan and Harry were put through, in being shipped off to Canada, was simply the late Queen, doing as she had done before. Rather insightful indeed; she was adamant that the whole affair had been handled disastrously. Said the marvellous raconteuse, the pompous Marie-Christine – Alexandra haughtily referred to the racist boor as baroness, never princess – should have been sent packing off Palace grounds. Harry and Meghan, said she, were the only hope of saving the empire (rather than commonwealth), which of course is what it truly is, nothing more than rebranding to keep up with the times. Margaret, said Alexandra, had never recovered from how the Queen had betrayed and punished her.
Princess Margaret 21.8.1930 /\ 3.2.6 = 11. Meghan, Princess Henry 4.8.1981 /\4.3.4 = 11
One thing that should be noted is the similitude that exists between both Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex and HRH Princess Margaret, Countess Snowdon. Being possessed of master numbers has a two-fold quality; with the good comes the bad. In both person’s case being possessed of master number 11 brings with it great talent but also great trial. Whereas HRH Princess Margaret was a talented pianist with a great singing voice, so too is Meghan a great actor who is exceptionally articulate. Master number 11 speaks of great fame; what it always brings, is great jealously to the point where one risks being maligned and sabotaged by others rather than of one’s doing. HLM Queen Elizabeth II sabotaged HRH Princess Margaret because she was too sparkling and brilliant.
If it looks like aubergine, it is not a cucumber! Let those with eyes see. Catherine & Ben
So, too, the woefully inarticulate Catherine, HRH The Princess of Wales, who spends inordinate time with The 1851 Trust clearly obsessed with Olympian Ainslie’s oar, had her task companion, HRH Prince William, The Prince of Wales with tacit support from Caligula II and his neither beautiful nor young Milonia Caesonia, The Courtesan Queen engage in an ongoing campaign of sabotaging Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex’s persona and image. I think that there may well be an element of karmic payment at play here; consequently, it could simply be karma being created, based purely in jealousy and racial animus. At the end of the day, Catherine clearly is now merely Rose’s understudy as Diana, Princess of Wales was the Courtesan Queen’s; either way, Catherine will always be King Mother. Moreover, unlike the chatelaine of Haughton Hall, Catherine is never mistaken for an alpaca.
Duke Ellington
As we got from the table and began prepping for bridge, which by the way, I do not play, the host began playing Jazz at which, Alexandra chimed in and began telling of her friendship and correspondence with Duke Ellington. Truly, Alexandra is a living link to history.
TRH Duke & Duchess of Sussex’s Royal Wedding & St. Paul’s Cathedral with Incitatus
Naturally, the Late Queen and her two heirs, all with chief feature of stubbornness, thought that there was no big deal in Baroness Marie-Christine, after having racially attacked Meghan, attending the Black woman’s historic royal wedding. Adding insult to injury, the same Eurotrash, anti-Black racist minor royal – who kept two black sheep she named Venus and Serena, was sat well ahead of the Sussexes at the June, 2022 Platinum Jubilee service at St. Paul’s Cathedral, and the Sussexes sat immediately ahead of Caligula II’s three-legged, eavesdropping Incitatus.
HRH Prince Harry The Duke of Sussex & HRH Prince William The Prince of Wales
Prince Harry has a chief feature of arrogance, which is the sign of someone who is truly and innately shy; incidentally, this is why he finds the paparazzi so very intrusive and unsettling, along with the role that they conveniently played in Caligula II’s murder of his mum, Diana, Princess of Wales – this is genuinely triggering trauma for Prince Harry. Prince Harry’s chief feature, which emerges during one’s late teens – one is never born with chief features – famous persons with chief feature of arrogance are always fearful and feel themselves exposed and acutely vulnerable. At 12, Harry would have felt utterly exposed and overwhelmed with a sense of vulnerability, which would have been triggered by his mum’s murder and the obvious press intrusion. William, for being older, responded to Diana’s murder by shutting off everyone who is not within his inner circle’s orbit. Persons with chief feature of stubbornness are almost fanatical about not having their sense of order disturbed in the slightest by anyone or anything. These are rather tight-minded persons.
Prince Harry The Duke of Sussex & Meghan The Duchess of Sussex
What’s more, Meghan, Prince Harry’s beautiful, elegant, gifted wife, has a chief feature of self-deprecation, which acts internally and sees one being far too accommodating and apologetic when being picked on and abused. This is readily discernible in the text exchange between her and Catherine, The Princess of Wales, shared in Prince Harry’s searing memoir, SPARE, which incidentally could only have been written by a royal with an attitude of scepticism, Prince Harry. Persons with the attitude of sceptic (Prince Harry – and incidentally, yours truly) do not fear anyone. Such persons will take the fight to anyone in a quest to defend the truth and veracity of anything that one holds dear.
The Waleses & Sussexes Windsor walkabout, 2022
If you think that Caligula II is not racist then do keep in mind that Prince Harry, as outed in SPARE, demanded that his father, Caligula II, cease referring to his wife, the Black Yank, as that woman. Then, though this in no way excuses their own anti-Black racism, William insisted that the Sussexes join him and Catherine on the Windsor walkabout in September, 2022 after The Queen’s passing; at the end of the day, William is Diana, Princess of Wales’s son and he has a goal of Acceptance, which is precisely what such a person would have done. People who do not have a chief feature of stubbornness find such persons the most acutely uncomfortable to be around, this is why that day, Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex genuinely looked fearful around William and Catherine, who with their 9 numerology are extremely difficult to have to suffer, especially when such persons have made an enemy of you and told lie after lie after lie.
Cressida Bonas attends royal wedding of TRH The Duke & Duchess of Sussex May, 2018
Had Prince Harry married the very acceptable White Briton of impeccable pedigree, Cressida Bonas, none of this racialised madness would have unfolded. Of course, true to form, once having been confronted by their racism, the three major senior House of Windsor royals, Queen Elizabeth II, Caligula II and William, Prince of Wales dug their heels in and, in essence, defended Princess Michael of Kent’s racist attack on The Duchess of Sussex. The Sussexes were shipped off to Vancouver Island then whilst there, the 5 Sovereigns gauntlet dropped during The Queen’s 2019 Christmas message broadcast, which was their response to the Sussexes wanting time out and a likely apology, which would never ever happen – fuck you, you do not count!
HM The Queen Christmas Message, 2019 – The Five Sovereigns
That was the betrayal of the Sussexes which was tantamount to Princess Margaret being shipped off to Rhodesia only to be hoodwinked when instead of joining her later, Captain Peter Townsend her lover, was exiled to Belgium. What they had not anticipated after the Camilla Tominey lie that Meghan made Catherine cry, was that Meghan would lay down the law to Harry and say, “I want out now and you are coming with me!” Stupidly, these people actually thought that she would stay there and take it.
Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex, Meghan The Duchess of Sussex & Oprah Winfrey
Of course, with an attitude of scepticism, Prince Harry saw every member of the House of Windsor for the vile creatures they were with regards to racism. It is plainly obvious that with only two more Christmas messages left to go, the Queen was not only terminally ill with cancer and dying but Caligula II was Regent, calling all the shots, and was fully supported by his equally racist son, William, The Prince of Wales both of whom have a chief feature of stubbornness. I think that it is plainly obvious the senior royal whose identity Prince Harry chose to protect during his sit down interview with Oprah Winfrey, with regards Prince Archie’s skin tone and what having a negro grandson would look like. Shock. Horror. Dread!
Rose Rocksavage (white dress with black trimming and bow) Williams’s lover at Caligula II’s coronation
It was Prince William, who declared when congratulated on Prince Archie’s birth that he was already an uncle to the coalmining muggles of his bothersome wife, who inconveniently stands in the way of he and Rose, Countess Rocksavage living blissfully ever after. Naturally, after the sit down interview with Oprah Winfrey on CBS in March 2021, Caligula II, who was Regent in all but name, decided to begin the full retaliatory campaign of, “We are very much not a racist family.” To that end, at Prince Philip’s (fourth mature warrior who happens like Harry to be a sceptic but with a chief feature of stubbornness) passing, Caligula II went all out on the ‘token negroes’ campaign, part of which was letting the kingdom become used to the notion of a slimmed down monarchy.
Baroness Benjamin of Beckenham, Baron Boateng of Akyem & Wembley + Baroness Scotland of Asthal
Thus it was that Prince Philip’s service of thanksgiving at Westminster Abbey, had the BBC’s Huw Edwards feature three exceptional token negroes of Caligula II’s. Trotted out were they as a show of the royal family’s inclusiveness and the fact that they could not possibly be racists; after all, recollections do vary. What other response could there have been by persons in denial but betray their guilt in the process?
Soprano Pretty Yende, Ascension Choir & Baritone Roderick Williams
Well Along comes Caligula II’s coronation and there were more token negroes embalming massa’s guilt complex no end. Seriously, where were all the token negros at the Late Queen’s Diamond Jubilee celebrations? Certainly, there were no such persons visible at William & Catherine’s snooze fest nuptials at which they rowed all the way from Westminster Abbey to Buckingham Palace.
Baroness Amos of Brondesbury, Rev. Hudson-Wilkin Bishop of Dover & Baroness Benjamin of Beckenham
Always ready to cakewalk and shine for massa, there was Baroness Benjamin again more proudly rigid as though like Prince William, she were similarly pegged, who’s recently afforded the none too unaware the Freudian slip of being in high heels – quelle surprise ça. There was the empire’s largesse being bestowed on commonwealth third-tier fare like Baroness Benjamin, who along with Baroness Amos of Brondesbury and Rev. Rose Hudson-Wilkin Bishop of Dover filled out Caligula II’s quota. All three carried symbols of might and oppression that effected the ancestors’ enslavement andthe concomitant racism that endures to this day.
Baroness Fenty of Bridgetown evicts Caligula II and his clan
Astutely aware, a real baroness, Baroness Fenty of Bridgetown, got on the phone and seized the opportunity to throw off the yoke of empire. After Oprah’s interview of the Duke & Duchess of Sussex, in short order, there was Baroness Fenty, telling the world that the shitty little bastard, Caligula II, would never be sovereign of Barbados. Callously, Baroness Fenty saw to it that the handover of the British flag would be at night, thereby excluding the fugly duchess from the ceremony. More importantly, the process was expedited by scrapping a referendum and declaring oneself a republic well before The Queen could be discovered face down on her bedroom’s floor at Balmoral House. That, indeed, is how a real baroness, Baroness Fenty of Bridgetown, conducts herself. Like a true Queen, Baroness Fenty of Bridgetown made it perfectly clear that no one on her island kingdom of Barbados would ever bow to the little grovelling bastard, Caligula II.
Courtesan Queen with protective brolly & bag to ward off the repugnant heat/Natives
Of course, if the handover ceremony were at daytime, the god fugly Courtesan Queen would have attended with her convenient brolly and handbag whilst scaring the natives. Her crutches to hand, they would have afforded her an excuse for not shaking hands with said otiose bastards, much as she dismisses Inuit throat singers, and New Zealand singers performing a haka.
Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex at Caligula II’s coronation attired head to toe in Dior
Nasty, little libidinous Caligula II of Athenian disposition, as common as White queers partout, wanted that Black woman nowhere near him and his realm. Thus not only was Prince Harry told ‘that woman’ was not invited to Balmoral but Caligula II saw to it that it would not occur as Catherine, The Princess of Wales was made to stay behind, which automatically precluded Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex attending – at least this was the outward cover story. Naturally, as Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex happened to have been in Britain at Queen Elizabeth II’s passing, she could not have been banned from the funeral. However, nasty little racial predator Caligula II had the Middleton in-laws attend his coronation sans their spouses so that Harry attending alone, would not look as obviously a snub of Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex as it was. Coward to the core, Caligula II saw to it that his coronation was on Prince Archie’s fourth birthday, conveniently, outwardly affording Meghan an excuse not to attend and the media another excuse to blame Meghan for not attending.
Caligula II Being Crowned: Oh my darling Boy, kiss me… Oh yes!
Indeed, the little grovelling bastard has grown drunk with power and proven a foul racist boor. Of course, with mummy and pa well out of the way, Caligula II can rule unchallenged with his pegged, fisted and miserably wedded accomplice, equally possessed of racial animus towards Blacks. Fatty-fingered Caligula II has quite effectively whitewashed the House of Windsor of the Black Yank. Caligula II has not in the least unconsciously painted a royal portrait as he would have it. With deft attack, Caligula II has employed a patina that slavishly strives to suppress any palimpsests of disturbing aspects of the empire’s past.
Doria, Harry & Meghan, Diana, Princess of Wales & Jack Spencer, 7th Earl Spencer
Dearest HRH Prince Archie & HRH Princess Lilibet of Sussex not to worry, you’ve got the most wonderful and loving parents, Harry & Meghan, a loving grandmother whom you know, Doria, who loves her special flowers in you. You’ve the most ravishingly wonderful guardian angel, granny Diana, Princess of Wales and great great grandfather, Albert ‘Jack’ Spencer, The 7th Earl Spencer. Don’t sweat the small stuff, every mighty oak will always have withered, dead branches, lightning ravaged and seared… spent. Forget about them, you’ve the most loving branches whose acorns you are and you will carry that love, adding your enriching branches whose acorns will thrive for millennia to come.
Karma Knows Nothing of Mercy: Caligula II Pelted With Eggs & Boos, York, November, 2022
Long millennia after the debauchery and sloth of the Second Caligulan Age, the little grovelling bastard, Caligula II, will never be fondly recalled but risibly dismissed as the inimitable Spike Milligan rightfully did.
Looking Southeast from Sentinel Hill into Vancouver’s Stanley Park, West End and City.
ACT ONE
Mere days after having relocated to Vancouver on a job transfer, I bumped into Ken, very late at night at the Club Vancouver bathhouse. Our spirits purred on rekindling positive past-life associations. Of course, he wanted to know if I would like to join him at his place, his lover was there, and thus began a magical relationship with two very beautiful souls. The drive through Stanley Park lazily drifted from bucolic and then into what proved the most magical journey to the top of Sentinel Hill. There their glass-walled living area, for sitting highest on the hill, gave a commanding view of Stanley Park beyond Lion’s Gate Bridge, the West End and the rest of Vancouver. At the time, I was staying at the funky Niagara Hotel a block away on the same street as the Club Vancouver on West Pender Street.
Niagara Hotel 435 West Pender Street, Vancouver
Readily, I accepted their offer, after a night of wanton passion and exquisite pleasure. I was having very bad luck in scoring a place that I wanted. I would call up and make appointments and finally on presenting, not having sounded a thing like I looked, Black, the place had just suddenly been rented out. I wanted to live in the West End and nowhere else. Finally, Les, Ken’s remarkably handsome of spirit lover found me a place when posing as my partner and getting the place into which we would be living, chiefly myself. The things one has to do at times to get by in what is supposed to be a civilised world. In the meantime, I spent almost three weeks living with them and it was both memorable and pleasurable.
Though they wanted me to live with them and take over their basement, which was the back of the house on the slope that made it anything but a basement, I declined the offer. I had moved out to Vancouver with my art collection and had had my home in storage since months after Merlin’s passing in November, 1989. I needed to breathe, to grow, to have my own space and walk about in open capes, naked in a pair of six-inch, black patent leather stilettos whilst listening and singing along to either Jazz or opera. Though, I moved out, I spent most free weekends with them, going for long hikes in North Vancouver’s foothills, walking around the seawall in Stanley Park, making dinners together and most of all, having great threesomes to the most glorious music.
Where Ken was soft, warm and laid back, Les was though diminutive, a towering force of nature. His was laughter that I had never nor since encountered. It was truly operatic and like great music, it was possessed of positively no bile or hostility. Les’s laughter was a pure, unfiltered distillation of his beauty of spirit. Learned and fluent in multiple languages, apart from being the chief librarian at UBC, University of British Columbia, he was also of note in Vancouver’s choral societies. Always there was great music, creating the just-so magical ambiance in their divine home. Nowhere in the universe was more harmoniously zen than a dinner party at Les and Ken’s Sentinel Hill home in November, when it had been raining almost imperceptibly for the last 3 to 6 days as is often the case in autumn. At such times, there would be mist rising off the crowns of Stanley Park’s stately Sitkas as autumn set in and winter was never going to be no less than 10 degrees Celsius.
878 Gilford – Top Two Windows on Left Were My Suite
Les knew a wealth of persons and many from Vancouver’s well-heeled Gay community; they were all music lovers. On Sunday mornings, after we had been in bed a tangle of arms, tongues and legs doing what wanton sinners do best, we would go for a hike in North Vancouver’s foothills. Ken and Les always said hello to everyone encountered on their walks. This one Sunday morning, there was a very handsome, dark-haired man, taller than Ken and me, who was ruggedly handsome in spades. As it was obvious that the attraction was mutual, he leaned in and kissed me then invited himself to dinner later; nothing is ever more sexy than confidence.
1915 Haro Where Pedro & I Watched Gianni Versace Funeral Coverage on CNN, July 1997.
Pedro became a casual sexual partner; for one thing, he was legendarily hung like the famed Rubirosa if not more so and the girth on that bad boy… Lord Jesus. We saw each other whenever he happened to be in town. He had expat South Africans from Cape town, who lived on the Sunshine Coast to the west of West Vancouver whom he visited from time to time and another couple who lived in the British Properties; most definitely, that meant that I was neither invited along nor could give two fucks about being in the presence of such blasted dreck.
Sunshine Coast British Columbia
As I was then living in my own apartment in the West End, we would get together whenever he was in town and phoned wanting hot mansex as he liked calling it. His watch was the first time that I had seen a Panerai and loved it and he always smelled good; dark piercing eyes were free of guile as he forged into his late 50s with a sexual stamina foreign to most men 30 years his junior. Once after intense fucking, we talked afterwards and remarking about aspects of his colouring, I asked him how many people ever asked or even knew that he was of Black blood. According to him, no one ever had before though he shared that his maternal grandfather was light-skinned Black Brazilian with one of the many names that attest to Brazilian colourism.
British Properties West Vancouver
That grandfather had been the result of a love affair of a local doctor and the family had gone to great lengths to protect his Black heritage and it was facilitated by his having been an only child. The fact that I had broached the subject had left him always calling whenever he was in town. He also found it widely fascinating that each time that he slept over that I awoke, grabbed a tape-recorder and began bringing forth my dreams; Pedro shared that it was a gift that his mother had and was always convinced that it came from her maternal grandfather’s bloodlines.
Sting, Anna Wintour, Trudie Styler, Karl Lagerfeld, Diana, Princess of Wales & André Leon Talley.
In late July, 1997, I was packing up my West End home with days to spare before moving to Montréal. At the time, Pedro and I sat around on the floor, propped up against boxes and trucks, looking at CNN as the funeral and all the circus around Gianni Versace’s murder unfolded over a couple of weeks. Pedro was talking about how dangerous persons like Andrew Cunanan, Gianni’s murderer, were. He thought that it was bad news to not stick within a tight circle of known and trusted friends and lovers. In any event, at the time, we were watching reports of Gianni’s funeral when Pedro began speaking of Diana, Princess of Wales. According to him, she was secretly seeing a very wealthy Arab and Muslim and it was likely that they would marry. The only thing, at the time, I remember about the names that he mentioned, was Khashoggi; apparently, whoever Diana was seeing, was the nephew of Adnan Khashoggi’s and his father was an obvious billionaire. Pedro said that not only would they be married but Diana, would definitely convert to Islam and bare him children as a way to get back at the royal family. Said he, they had deliberately given her a divorce settlement that was way less than she ought to have received. He said it was because The Queen was both cheap and spiteful.
This left Diana, Princess of Wales in a position, much like Jacqueline Kennedy, Pedro stated, of having to marry for money to maintain the lifetime to which she ought to be kept, much as Jacqueline marrying Aristotle Onassis. Pedro thought that The Queen was a vile, nasty person. Then Pedro said, sadly for Diana, they will never let her get away with it and definitely not twice. When asked what he meant by twice, said he, Diana realising that Charles did not love her and was with Camilla, had an affair with the King of Spain and it resulted in her firstborn not being fathered by Charles. They will sooner kill her than have her marry a Muslim, convert to Islam and set up a rival dynasty. Diana is daring enough… but also stupid enough, said he.
Diana, Princess of Wales Funeral, 1997
Exactly a week later, after watching the funeral with Pedro in my Haro Street, West End apartment, I was on a plane flying to Montréal and almost spat out my tea when the clown behind me requested of the attendant, “de thé, s’il te plait?” The male attended curtly shot back, “du thé, Madame…” Four years later, I was returned to Vancouver, chiefly to buy Haida art, attend pow wows, see Ken and Les and of course my oldest friend, who lives in Victoria and who in an illustrious past life was the painter, Sir Anthony van Dyck. It goes without saying, there were long nights of reckless abandon spent in Stanley Park, the world’s largest bathhouse au bois, getting lewdly carnal – as I had with Pedro; many were the times I found him there, not realising that he was in town. After having made some good art purchases, I spent time with Ken: Les was away at the time of my visit. When we dined one evening as I spent three days at their new North Vancouver condo and I mentioned how strange it was that just about everything that Pedro had said about Diana, Princess of Wales a month before her passing, was eerily almost prescient.
Althorp House, August 2022
Ken told me that was because Pedro was the lovechild of a Spanish duke with a South American actress and he had also, for years, been the lover of another Spanish duke. Ken assured me if anyone would know high society gossip, it would most definitely be Pedro; also, said Ken, Pedro knows and always speaks the truth of high society goings on. Ken confirmed that Pedro had shared that Prince William was not fathered by Charles but King Juan Carlos, adding if anyone ought to know, it would be the very well-placed lover of a relative of the King’s. As we dined on a cold soup and the most exquisitely prepared salmon, Ken was a sublime cook, Ken said, ‘Of course, she was murdered. Diana, did not take her enemies as seriously as obviously they took the threat of her. Nothing will ever come of it. She was put down by The Queen and who is going to prosecute The Queen. “Precisely,” I replied. Ken, of course, I would learn from his lover, Les, when we first met was of Polish nobility and it showed in spades. Ken was not a snob but he was well-bred as West Indians say; more than that, after dinner Ken and I took to bed and he performed magic better than most. Holding his head in place, I writhed facedown in the pillow as Ken’s tongue feverishly kept pace with my twerking, pleasured arse.
Clueless. Conceited. Stubborn.
ACT TWO
Actions filmed betray the truth, every time… Just look at that blasted clueless man! There is not a sage soul who has ever incarnated, who would not have gotten into that carriage and stood there, open his chest, raise his chin and gallantly extend his gloved hand to his new bride and duchess, future Queen Consort, future King Mother then sit after she was sat. Instead, we get blissfully self-absorbed, selfish, totally unaware and conceited as all fuck, Bastard Bourbon Billy, sitting with his back to the horses, then not only does he completely ignore his new bride and sit, barely helping her in, but he keeps pushing her dress off his uniform when she was finally sat. Never once did he think to stand up and assist, welcome his wife into the carriage. And just remember, he is sixth mature, all persons living sixth mature lives are ever bereft of drama all of their own creation thanks to their self-karmic issues for one.
Just look at this woman, born with coalmining soot lining her lungs, which explains her addiction to cigarette-smoking, openly shunning a Black woman. This occurred during her first royal tour to a predominantly Black commonwealth nation, the first in her nearly twelve years of marriage. Lord only knows, it would not have happened if she and her racially predatory husband had not driven his brother and his Black wife out of the monarchy; they would have been tasked to undertake those utterly detestable tours to the wretched, overpopulated dirty people regions of the commonwealth. She recoils by flicking her hair and standing back when the Jamaican minister of sport reaches out to take her hand. She then defensively holds her hands together and actually pulls back her hands rather than take the cabinet minister’s hand. Catherine then reluctantly saves face, and still holds her fingers together, thereby allowing the forthright minister to take her left forearm. Next, she shoves her held left forearm at the cabinet minister when wrestling her arm away from the otiose, undesirable, Black thing’s sullied hand. None of this racist bigotry, as you can well imagine, was once mentioned, discussed, and afforded multiple articles by the vile British tabloid press.
Kiss-Arse Bigot
Numbers never ever lie. Catherine’s energy body is 9. She would not be her bigoted self if she had not reacted that way to the Black Jamaican cabinet minister. Protocol my arse! You do not see her behaving that way towards Jews and she certainly didn’t stand there at the Buckingham Palace garden party and hold on to her umbrella with both hands whilst grinning her disingenuous, fuck you, fake-as-all-hell smile at ‘them.’
Just look at these blasted ninny goats; how quickly they fall into line and like the media hacks in North Korea, whatever BBB (Bastard Bourbon Billy) decrees when going nuclear, they readily change tune and do as commanded. His reign will be a nasty business, scandal-saturated to the gills, what with that fourth number of 5. If that woman, who seems incapable of reading the room and sensibly taken leave with Philip, were to live to be 106 years, which is not impossible, by then Charles will have long passed without having acceded and at age 50, you can damn well bet Bastard Bourbon Billy would gladly eliminate her and justify it as revenge for his mother, Diana, Princess of Wales, having been murdered by her. It is what royals do, what royals have always done. Needless to say, the somnambulant of the island realm would never question the obvious, as most definitely they did not at Diana’s assassination; instead they audaciously claimed that Prince Philip and the MI6 were the ones who had Diana murdered and not HM The Queen.
Princess Blackamoor with the Two Black Sheep Named, Venus and Serena
Just look at them: Dan Wootton and Piers Morgan, speaking truth about Princess Michael of Kent, at the announcement of Harry and Meghan’s engagement in November, 2017, which would come to pass as she stepped out wearing the blackamoor brooch the following month, yet there was no investigation into allegations of racism within the royal family or royal households.
Princess Blackamoor in blackface (Obviously, I am no photoshop wizard)
Princess Michael of Kent wearing the blackamoor brooch is no less racist than if she had turned up that Christmas lunch at Buckingham Palace in blackface. Somehow, these fools the world over would like you to believe that there was nothing racist about the brooch and once again, Blacks are being overly sensitive and paranoid. When it pleases HM The Queen to act that she does, as when she tore her arse in the kingdom’s face and insisted that her lovechild, Andrew, escort her into Westminster Abbey at the service of thanksgiving for the life of the Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh.
Houghton Hall Sat Next to Anmer Hall, Norfolk.
So in a bid to kill the hot rumour of Billy going next-door for the real honey pot, the same blasted media sycophants who sang Meghan’s praises on the announcement of the engagement in 2017, Dan Wootton and Piers Morgan and others, course-corrected and were let loose on Meghan, Princess Henry of Wales by none other than William with the tacit agreement of HM The Queen. Naturally, The Queen would go along with the media smear of Meghan, Duchess of Sussex as all Sovereigns are above reproach and should never ever be sullied by British tabloid media; besides, HM The Queen had her own reasons.
Adelaide ‘Dog Pound’ Cottage
Well off to the pound with you, BBB (Bastard Bourbon Billy) for raiding the Savage Rock chick inn. And wouldn’t you know it, just like his Bourbon father, Billy goes off and breeds with another man’s wife. That precisely is why he has been made to relocate to Adelaide ‘Dog Pound’ Cottage with only one of his two daughters in tow. Some consolation that; Bastard Bourbon Billy was not allowed to ditch the family embarrassment, Damien, for the Bastard Princess of Norfolk.
Look At Risible Control Freak, Bastard Bourbon Billy Getting Pussy-whipped by Ben Ainslie’s Lover.
Who pray tell the fuck are you, to go pulling away from the hand of the Jamaican Minister of Sport and you think there is nothing for it? Soot-lunged arriviste! At the end of the day, we all shit and piss and crawl into a casket, by whatever means ours or someone’s doing. That said, you don’t like Black please, please go lie your tired arse on a beach somewhere in the Sun, get cancer and crawl the fuck in your casket. Ever, I will be most fuck-all indefatigable in my support and defence of Meghan, Duchess of Sussex and her family: Prince Henry, Duke of Sussex, Archie Harrison, Lilibet-Diana and Doria Ragland.
Not that she could give a rat’s arse, for there she was for all the world to see, being Big Ben Ainslie’s yacht girl. Whether being a goddamn bigot with the Jamaican minister of sport or openly flirting with the knighted yachtsman, she knows damn well that just like with Meghan, she will never be held to task for her conduct. After all, Meghan has been reduced to the most ridiculed, reviled, hated fugitive from justice for having had the temerity for marrying Diana, Princess of Wales’ son. To illuminate Meghan, Duchess of Sussex’s words as she articulated during her interview with Orpah: if you love Catherine, you don’t have to hate me and if you love me, you don’t have to hate her. Well, sadly, that is not how the White tribe’s collective psyche works. There always must be a threat to defend oneself against and there is always an evil in the world, which never ever could be oneself, regardless what the empirical evidence indicates.
Diana, Princess of Wales Adorned In the Spencer Tiara
To paraphrase Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, if you love Diana, Princess of Wales, you don’t have to hate William and Catherine; conversely, if you truly love Diana, Princess of Wales, you don’t have to hate Harry and Meghan.
Please Standby, The Palace Diaries Are Yet to Be Published
Meghan has now emerged as the most reviled, hated and lied about woman in human history. The fact that she is Black is no coincidence and certainly, the fact that she had the audacity to call Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge a liar on Oprah, along with all her other enablers, was the declaration of war. Thus far, myopic British media have no awareness that their reach is not total in America and at the end of the day, when Meghan does speak her truth, very few Americans are going to want to countenance a royal family and Britons whom they damn well dispensed with 246 years ago.
Henry, Duke of Sussex
Every day, there is another story, in which these venal arse-wipes… every single last one of them, go on bleating on and on about Meghan, telling every lie imaginable and inciting anti-Black racism, go on and on and blasted motherfucking on, making a liar, failure, clown of both Meghan and Harry. Fuck every last one of you. The easiest thing to do on this planet, is to tell a lie on someone Black. As ever, one will be believed and there will most certainly never be any repercussions for doing so. If there was ever a single possibility of finding oneself “Nick Berged/Rushdied,” every one of these snake-bellied bigots would never once move their hideous lizard lips to say a single word against Meghan… and Harry.
Honest to fucking god, what is little flat-arsed, soot-lunged, adulterer going to say that she is not racist and she never made Meghan cry? Yeah, right… just like she never refused to shake hands with some blasted bipedal simian bitch in Jamaica. Sooner or later, every dog will not only lick itself but will also eat its vomit and never ever, should you be either shocked or surprised by that. It is in the nature of dogs to do so, just as it is in the nature of far too many Whites to hate, lie and vilify Blacks for positively no fucking reason. Of course, they will ever say they have nothing to do with slavery and may even glibly apologise in their best insincere “fuck you, get over it” banter as when William did just that in Jamaica and again at the unveiling of the Windrush sculpture at Waterloo Station. It means absolutely nothing when you know that this is the same dolt who had the temerity to protest, the day after the Oprah interview aired, claiming, “We are very much not a racist family.” Seriously, were it not for the subjugation of Chinese and Indians and the gross enslavement of Black Africans, Britons today would be no better off that miserably poor-as-fuck Albanians.
Archetypes: A Happenin’ Joint on Spotify.
A strong woman walks and does more than survive, she damn-well thrives. Most definitely, she does not keep breeding, to keep an adulterous man and thereby end up with superfreak numero un, Damien, that’s who. That’s right, Karma does not lie. You no more want to be near the ailing Queen by moving to Adelaide Cottage, than does The Queen want your fake arse anywhere near her. You are both equally treacherous and despise each other in equal measure, the world has long seen this and even before Meghan appeared on the scene.
As that blasted island kingdom is clearly overrun by semi-feral hyenas en chaleur, it has long become evident to anyone not obsequiously rimming the royals’ collective arse that the predators have moved from fox hunting to nigger hunting with fever-pitched intensity; when is being racially predatory not sport for Whites who choose to be so focussed and engaged? Everyone of these pretentious boors are ever ready to gnarl and bark at Meghan. Just look at that god fugly oxygen thief, talking shit about why give them (Meghan and Harry) oxygen? How about you crawl the fuck in your casket. People talk and all she ever was for many a Hollywood moon, was just another casting couch whore. Don’t recall her having received an Oscar. She has been more jizzed on than a urinal cake in Penn Station during cruisy evening rush hour. Let’s make it perfectly fucking clear, any jackass and his shadow is ever ready to openly hate Blacks, please know that we are not all prepared to sit by idly and suffer your hideous arse or bullshit. If for a nanosecond people do not think that this constant open animus against Meghan, Duchess of Sussex is not racially motivated and, more importantly, that it does not affect the lives of Blacks going about their daily business, you are truly not focussed in this reality. Rimming Warren Beatty like a drunken manwhore at a bathhouse and where pray tell the fuck were you in Shampoo or Heaven Can Wait That’s right, just another cumrag at a Hollywood circle jerk. All that pouting and vamping for just as many decades as Liz and it never got you a blasted Oscar. Just like Princess Blackamoor, both raising your rabid rear right leg and whizzing par-fucking-tout. Please just stop with the BS about Diana told you when exiting Harry’s Bar that she just had lunch with the most boring king in Europe; either you know bugger all or it was another attempt at throwing shade. Either way, what does it matter, your you-know-what smells like a crate of rotten oranges and your shadow is beyond bored, having to suffer you being a fugitive from your casket 1.5 decades and counting. Go on, take a clue from Lilibet, stop stealing oxygen and crawl the fuck in your casket. Not a single goddamn acting award because there are no awards for casting couch whores and a damn Golden Globe has as much cache as a frigging BAFTA.
Sharon Osborne – The Talk
This woman got her arse booted from an American talk-show where all she ever did was cuss off Meghan in her typically racially predatory, poseur Toff British bully persona. Just won’t do. For one, one of her co-hosts was Julie Chen Moonvez, whose husband, Les Moonvez was the CEO of CBS. These things matter and the whole culture of Americans associated with showbiz, though both Moonvez were no longer associated with the show and network by the time of Osborne’s departure, it still had an impact. The fact is, Sharon and Ozzy became social pariahs as Americans simply have no countenance for Britons playing holier than thou and treating Americans like crap.
Yet another displaced otiose Briton, Cara Delevingne squatting in America as though either welcome and doing nothing more than taking jobs from Americans. Just look at this blasted crack whore and you can bet your bottom dollar for not being Black, she has managed never to have had a run in with the local constabulary.
HM Queen Elizabeth II 21.4.1926 Tiger 08.9.2022
ACT THREE
I began writing this blog as the 25th anniversary of Diana, Princess of Wales assassination approached and because it had me revisit that time leading up to her death, when I was relocating from Vancouver to Montréal in late July, 1997. I also wanted to address the unrelenting, racially predatory hunt of Meghan from all quarters and watching Vanessa Feltz that smug sow, who seems so pleased as muddied swine that she was getting Black cock that she just couldn’t help turning her racial hatred in Meghan’s direction. First of all, no honey, fucking a nigger makes you a goddamn nigger; in case you’ve not noticed niggers and Blacks have nothing in common but what would you know? As if? There is not enough money on this planet to pay a Black man to piss on you… blasted sow. Thankfully, Holly Willoughby took her to task as she sat her fat, flat arse all over Meghan’s name. Her mea culpa of sorts occurred days later as she broke into the most transparent display of crocodile tears as she announced on-air the passing of HM The Queen. Nigger please! The other trigger was that washed up casting cough whore spewing off; how ungrateful are this ever burgeoning ghetto of Brits in Hollywood that one then has to be reminded of their stinking racial animus towards Blacks when the casket fugitive mouths off.
Here’s is the link to a dream of HM The Queen’s passing on the eve of HM King Charles III’s birthday in 2021. With The Queen’s passing, especially so after HM King Charles III’s speech to the kingdom, you could sense that there was a deep vibrational shift begun within the realm.
With The Queen’s long overdue departure, things can now open up and with Catherine and William now becoming Prince and Princess of Wales, they don’t need any longer to feel the gross insecurity and prejudice that saw them run to the Fleet Street abattoirs and have Meghan slaughtered at the tabloid altars. Some strange white voodoo that… but it damn well works that’s for frigging sure.
The Grand Canal With Santa Maria della Salute Looking East Towards the Bacino
Oil on Canvas
50 x 80
1744 Canaletto
Provenance: Royal Collection Trust, St. James’s Palace
Will you just get a load of that Canaletto in St. James’s Palace throne room? Phenomenal!
HM King Charles III First Speech on Death of HM The Queen
As HM King Charles III made it clear, Harry and Meghan are focussed overseas. So please by all means, now that you are Prince and Princess of Wales with just as fractious a marriage as Charles and Diana’s were, please do shine and show the world what megastars you are as you are, after all, royal rather than celebrities. Get out there and show the world your uneclipsed love; maturing into expected titles is not a sign of a successful marriage. William will always cheat and as Diana and her adultery were outed in a get-back by Charles, don’t expect Catherine’s whoring with Ben to be touched with a titanium javelin anytime soon. That’s the really sad part because thanks to the iron-fisted reign of Elizabeth over the family rather than firm, Windsor men sadly are all castrati in varying degrees.
I do believe that had HM The Queen exited the stage long ago, likely before Meghan’s arrival on the scene, ‘Megxit’ would have turned out differently or simply not have eventualised. As it is, yet again, here was another example of The Queen turning her back and not giving a damn, stubbornly she even dug in her heels as if to protest the claim of racism against Princess Michael of Kent by deliberately having her attend the Sussexes wedding and this after having Angela Kelly, snubbing Meghan for a tiara fitting. Then on their return to court for the Jubilee celebrations, Princess Blackamoor was sat close to the former Prince and Princess of Wales (Charles & Camilla) and the current Prince and Princess of Wales, (William and Catherine). Go on, go run up and down the planet, grinning your best “fuck you, die” smile with HM King Charles III, serving as new peace envoy.
As the seating at St. Paul’s Cathedral during the Platinum Jubilee revealed, it was all about HM The Queen’s stubbornness. She saw nothing wrong in what HRH Princess Michael of Kent did in wearing the blackamoor brooch to her Christmas lunch in December, 2017. As far as The Queen saw it, Meghan was offensively ungrateful. £35m spent on the Sussexes’ wedding and an expectation of conducting the overseas commonwealth tours that the then Cambridges had no desire of undertaking. Look at Catherine, HRH Princess of Wales in the preceding video. She turns around, sees where the Sussexes are sat and says wow, which was a comment on the stern impertinence of HM The Queen.
Duke & Duchess of Sussex with Oprah Winfrey
Do not ever underestimate the power of Meghan, Duchess of Sussex and her astute awareness of her power. Her appearance on Oprah was all strategy. Meghan plays the long game. When she mentioned the threat of the slimmed down monarchy and Archie and Lilibet not being afforded their HRH status when The Queen passes and the Prince of Wales becomes HM King Charles III, it was an implicit threat. Meghan at any time has the right and can and will reveal what really went down that precipitated their departure and this the monarchy fears more than anything else. As long as the tabloid media keep braying and vilifying her and Harry, only steels her resolves.
HRH Prince Archie of Sussex, Harry, Duke of Sussex & Meghan, Duchess of Sussex
Meghan had to mention that as it was a threat to the family and Sovereign. If HM The Queen were to pass after Charles, which has not transpired, Meghan was making it clear that she fully expected William would never afford her children this honour. Also, should Charles survive his mother, there was no way that he would want the devastation of Meghan going nuclear with her truth and not the lies proffered by the media on the HM The Queen and Cambridges’ behalf. Well, Charles is king and her children are now HRH Prince Archie of Sussex and HRH Princess Lilibet Diana of Sussex, the first royal princess of the UK born in America.
News9 Australia Camilla Tominey Waleses & Sussexes ‘Mind Completely Blown!’
So just as I was wrapping up this blog as it is well into September, the car pulled up at the Cambridge Gates at Windsor Castle and out stepped TRH Prince & Princess of Wales accompanied by TRH Duke & Duchess of Sussex. Naturally, Camilla Tominey who broke the story back in November, 2018 of Meghan having made Catherine cry, which began the white-hot opening of Nigger hunting season, was called on by News 9, Australia to comment on the Wales, Sussex Windsor Castle, long walk walkabout.
HM The Queen has died and now a new era, a course correction is begun.
I rather love this commentary by ITV’s Chris Ship and company. They have always been deferential and professional in their coverage of the Sussexes.
At the end of the day, this reunion and public display of entente cordiale could not have occurred whilst HM The Queen lived because she was damn set on avenging herself of Meghan, whom she perceived as truly ungrateful. Meghan took a stance and was right to have done so. There is positively no way that royal householders were not being racially predatory towards Meghan as Princess Blackamoor gave them license to be openly racist towards Meghan. Fact of the matter is, when you have wronged someone, it bears heavily on your conscience and it is never the wronged person who makes an overture seeking resolution and restitution of your integrity, which had been violated. William texted Harry because William and his team fed the Sussexes to the Fleet Street abattoirs to protect the former Cambridges’ marital scandals. It was a betrayal and has mightily upset Harry as much as it has because he was wronged. She is an American. She is Black and they will all of them, household staffers, be rude towards here. Even Angela Kelly was in no way reprimanded by HM The Queen when she did not show for a tiara fitting with Meghan during build-up to royal wedding in May, 2018.
HM The Queen tells off HRH Prince William, Duke of Cambridge, December, 2020
This is HM The Queen rudely dismissing the then Duke & Duchess of Cambridge because she damn well felt like it. Obviously, neither the then, HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales could have acted as they wished, along with the then Duke & Duchess of Cambridge, with regards to the Sussexes, as long as The Queen was being punishingly cruel towards the Sussexes. I always thought it odd how, despite outward appearances both Harry & Meghan spoke rather highly of The Queen. Whatever HM The Queen was during her prime, at the time of Meghan’s marriage into the family/firm, The Queen was older, stubborn and likely already sick with bone cancer as has been disclosed on her passing. And please don’t blame Meghan for fuck-all anything. When The Queen turned 90 in 2016, she suddenly developed a large sore on one of her shins; it was a going concern for just about everyone. That clearly was an early sign of her cancer, which was long before Meghan appeared on the scene.
This Lucian Freud oil on canvas perfectly encapsulates HM The Queen. All the world’s a stage and the longer you stay onstage without properly reading the room, you soon turn Icarus and lose altitude. Soon or later, if you stay too long in any game, you end up looking like Wayne Newton and just as clueless. Old, grasping and cancerous, Elizabeth was less patient to keep up the façade of the sweet, little old lady with the heart of gold – I never bought it. Nonetheless, when you are damn cheap as all hell, look what pittance Diana, Princess of Wales was afforded in her divorce settlement, you are going to be really pissed when you spend £35m on a goddamn bride only to have her runaway within two years. Indeed, you are going to be pretty damn pissed, and feed her to the Fleet Street abattoirs, you damn well will. Truth be told, in the parlance of the deposed, buffoon Semite, Meghan proved the most expensive prize paid for a slave, who then turned around and ran away in under two years. Goddamn it, that kind of money, Elizabeth can justify spending on the gee-gees but damn well not a bloody slave. Meghan was bought to work the Pickaninny circuit of the predominantly Black commonwealth nations – heaven only knows the 9-centric former Cambridges now Waleses were intent on doing no such thing.
Viscount Severn, The Duke of Sussex, Major Jonathan Thompson, The Duchess of Sussex & The Duke of Gloucester.
The Queen racked with cancer then showed her hand by having Princess Blackamoor sat close to Charles & Camilla, William & Catherine and ahead of the former Wessexes now Duke & Duchess of Edinburgh. Indeed, there were the Duke & Duchess of Sussex sat directly ahead of Major Jonathan Thompson, The Queen’s equerry as spy or whatever, who temptingly kilted is now HM King Charles’s equerry – oh what savoury tea this. Just look at the racial predatory hyena in the blue pillbox hat, ain’t nothing like the height of Nigger hunting season… vraiment.
Meghan So Desperately Needed That Hug, Just Look At Her Hands Holding On
Love Heals All Wounds… Amelka Hugs Meghan, Duchess of Sussex Soothing Her Soul
Not only were the Sussexes booed at St. Paul’s Cathedral in June, 2022 but it was tough watching Meghan being denied by the locals along the long walk at Windsor Castle on September 10, 2022; they refused to either acknowledge her or shake her hand. Then the most incredible thing occurred, Amelka asked Meghan for a hug and stated after to media that she wanted the Duchess to know that she was welcome in the United Kingdom.
Duke of Sussex’s Tribute to HM The Queen at Archewell Website
Duke & Duchess of Sussex’s parting so long to his Commander-in-Chief.
Well Darling Elizabeth, look at that, you proved human after all and crawl into your casket you most damn well have. Well, guess what, you already conceded defeat by the spiteful seating and walk of shame at St. Paul’s Cathedral at the Platinum Jubilee thanksgiving service, which cancer and or cowardice had you miss out on, as Harry and Meghan were sat as they were and that was that… all that over £35m. Of well, guess what, Meghan won and will be sat at Westminster Abbey, on Monday, September 19, 2022, alive and thriving.
Come On Everybody, Time to Shake Your Tuchas!
Queen Elizabeth II Statue Winnipeg ManitobaCanada Day, 2021
Well, you fail to adapt and move with the times and before you know it, audience admiration fast turns to ridicule. No! It was not just a damn brooch, for crying out loud, it was a racist attack. To have done nothing, was to have condoned both Princess Blackamoor’s actions and that of the royal householders. Where was the investigation into racism from minor royals and royal household staffers?As is obvious, Rihanna was not amused by the blackamoor scandal and the way it was unsatisfactorily addressed and just like that, you, Elizabeth were removed as constitutional monarch of Barbados. Indeed, you were not the only Queen.
Last night, on the eve of HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales’s 73rd birthday, I dreamt the most spectacularly lucid dream in long decades. In the evening of Saturday, November 13th, 2021 when I don’t even know the lunar phase and have not audio-cassette recorded my dreams since 1997 when then living in Montréal, I simply had to share this dream. I awoke from the dream being saddened that I had to come to so soon.
HM Queen Elizabeth II
Since then, of course, as of today, September 8, 2022, it is obvious HM The Queen, Queen Elizabeth II is on the cusp of passing, so I reissue this here. Similarly, after having published this in November, 2021, I did recall that there were on a high hilltop a mighty army of bagpipes creating a most glorious sound.
At once I was come to in the most lucid dream set on the astral plane. Astral plane dreams are possessed of lighting that is uniquely found there and nowhere else. Vibrationally, it always feels in such dreams as it does between 0400 and 0600 with the intensity of this magical time being closer to 0500. In any event, I was in the midst of a flying dream above what can only be called the boulevard. It was a street wider than any in the waking state. The focal point of the dream, in this astral metropolis of at least 3 billion souls, was the gates to an ancient church, which was set back from the boulevard at the end of a long narrow straight pathway. It was exactly as the Anglican Church in the parish of St. Anne in Sandy Point St. Kitts. It was a church which was millennia old and all along the path to the foreboding wrought iron gates were clergy – all male – of the Anglican faith. As at the Anglican church in Sandy Point on either side of the pathway between the church and the gates were graves with the most ancient tombstones imaginable. There was a lone grave which was open, the earth on either side black and rich. There were clergymen at the grave concluding their business. As I alighted and took my place along the boulevard, HM The Queen walked alone in a green crew neck woollen dress; it was the same colour as a young artichoke, green fig or green guava. She carried no handbag. There were no corgis; about her neck was a single strand pearl necklace which was so ancient that its nacre had become diffused, time-yellowed and on the very cusp of looking like browning rotting teeth. She was reserved and poised and as the rear of the giant Rolls Royce faced the gates of the church and cemetery, she walked around to the right rear door and entered; her hair here was beginning to grey but predominantly brunette. There was no foot person to open the door. She got in and was seemingly in her late forties to early fifties, which is more in keeping with her soul age, that of being an early mature slave soul.
Myself for not being an astral plane habitué, had the ability to fly on the astral plane and, of course, though the habitués themselves could, they of custom chose not to. I was for being an observer referred to by the habitués as a visitor. On exiting the grounds – just as in the Sandy Point, St. Kitts arrangement, there was a crescent in which the massive Rolls Royce sat with its rear facing the open gates to the cemetery and church. The car carrying the arrivée Sovereign was expected and eventually did turn right onto the ridiculously large boulevard where the astral plane throngs along the boulevard’s route were as claustrophobically packed in as it must have been at St. Paul’s Cathedral for the Duke of Wellington’s funeral. Here the atmosphere was electric.
What had initially drawn me to this marvellous place, was the distant sound of several bugles, playing the rouse. I knew instantly what it meant. On my arrival, there were hills all around this sector of the astral plane metropolis; this seemed to a very layered astral plane London where different epochs in the city’s history simultaneously co-existed. On one particular wooded hill were the largest stags imaginable – they looked almost sentient whilst regally standing in small mobs. They had majestically arrived to the top from the other side, stood there for a long while then en masse sat down to onlook. Along the route, there were the most massive black steeds and when they walked and stood along the route, they were buried in the astral landscape such that the underside of their bellies were submerged.
The arrivée astral plane habitué Sovereign was then taken on a celebratory parade. The wood was an exquisitely polished oak that framed the exterior of this astral plane version of the Rolls Royce that seemed to have been from the late 1920s to early 1930s. On pulling out onto the boulevard the slow-moving single vehicle motorcade turned right and went down to the shorter arm of the boulevard. Along the right, as it were, of the boulevard and on either side were the most opulent, massive astral plane replicas of each and every stately home in England. The closest house on the right on leaving the cemetery was Blenheim Palace This astral plane version was easily 30 storeys tall and at least 15 millennia older than its waking state counterpart; I suppose that they were this massive as they served as suites for past Dukes of Marlborough as with Blenheim Palace. Even the stately houses which were demolished at the end of the empire, which saw families that didn’t marry robber baron Americans to stay afloat, were here represented. Longleat House, Althorp House, Highclere Castle, Knole House, Hampton Court Palace, Kensington Palace, Mapperton House, Waddesdon Manor, Wilton House, Castle Howard, Chatsworth House; you name it, they were all here behind wrought iron fencing and they stood side-by-side without massive ground anchoring each. This astral plane Blenheim Palace counterpart had sapphire-blue cupolas at the towers and center; every astral plane counterpart was here replete with sapphire-blue copulas. The walls of each house on the astral plane was made of marble that was time-yellowed, betraying the multiple millennia it had existed on the astral plane. Just as the skyscrapers on New York City’s Avenue of the Americas from 42nd to 57th Streets are tall and easily in excess of 30 storeys, so too was each of these astral plane counterparts for familiar English stately houses.
All along the route, which was teeming with astral plane habitués, there were different sections that towered up for several storeys. Directly opposite the gates to the church and cemetery from which the astral habitué Sovereign Elizabeth II emerged alone, was regally sat Sir Winston Churchill; he was surrounded by all the astral plane habitué Prime Ministers who had served HM The Queen. Here, there was a section reserved for astral plane-focussed English aristocrats; one recognisable such habitué was Gerald Grovesnor, 6th Duke of Westminster. At no point, however, did I ever see the following habitué relatives, HRH Prince Philip Duke of Edinburgh, HM Queen Elizabeth Queen Mother, HRH Princess Margaret, Countess of Snowdon or Diana, Princess of Wales. Constantly, persons were arriving to take their place, even when the parade was begun. This dream was so vivid, so electric, so lucid that the stimuli was so overwhelming that I times, I had to alight to ground myself. Indeed, at times, it proved laborious to try and fly where the amount of stimuli and the outréness of this astral plane milieu proved overwhelming on my ability to stay aloft to project myself whilst astrally projected into this utterly rhapsodic dream. As this dream was set on the astral plane, there were astral plane habitués here who wore the dress of the age in which they lived when incarnate. I readily assumed that these were past-life personae with connections to HM The Queen from past lives.
As I soared in flight into the astral plane air some three storeys above to get my bearings, I saw a phalanx of swashbuckling courtiers, progressing down the boulevard to take their place. They had all the swagger and style of dress as King Charles I in the masterful van Dyck tableau, Charles at the Hunt, which hangs at Musée du Louvre. They walked down the boulevard which housed the stately houses on either side, and well ahead of the habitué Sovereign’s Rolls Royce, which glided along the boulevard as if in bucolic slow-motion.
Still, there was a section of the immensely long boulevard which seemed as if longer than New York City’s Fifth Avenue, which on either side housed waking state visitors who were in attendance. Naomi Campbell, who was recently made Commonwealth ambassador to replace the Duke and Duchess of Sussex on their departure from royal duties, was here present. She was there in an enclosed section where all the waking state guests were kept. Also notable was fellow supermodel Kate Moss. I found it utterly fascinating to hear Ms. Campbell speaking in flawless Jamaican patois as she was gobsmacked by the beauty of this astral plane ritual. Taking a break from the laboriousness of dream flight in this particular dream, I had sought refuge in the glass enclosed stands where incarnate persons were focussed. These stands existed opposite each other across the ridiculously wide boulevard.
Once returned to flight I soon realised the immensity of the life that HM The Queen had lived. Here along the astral plane boulevard, on which I suppose that the Circus Maximus was modelled, were habitués who had lived during HM The Queen’s long life and reign and who had immensely admired her. These spanned the range of human civilisation with not just every racial stratum of Commonwealth member states but all other humans who had so immensely admired this extraordinary human being. Here were astral plane habitués from the 1930s, 1940s, 1950s, 1960s, 1970s, 1980s, 1990s, 2000s, 2010, 2020s. From her earliest years of being the much admired Princess of York to becoming the young Sovereign and onwards, there were adoring astral plane habitué admirers. Absolutely everyone was here represented. It was simply overwhelming to see so many tens of millions of persons focussed in one place and all experiencing rapture at the arrival of someone in whom they had focussed much of their admiration, respect and love. This was a truly remarkable dream.
Pushing of again and exploring more of the unique dreamscape, I flew slowly in the opposite direction of the habitué Sovereign’s parade down the boulevard lorded over by palatial astral plane counterparts to known English stately houses. In one section there were humanoid creatures whose look suggested that these were animals which were long extinct long before animals were documented in earnest. One particular creature was pure white with liver spots markings. This large-headed male was singing whilst perched on a floating dais. Cloaked in a white ermine robe, the three to four thousand pound male creature sang with a range that went from whale song to counter tenor bravura. His voice was simply healing. Light seemed to emanate from beneath his skin and in varying intensities based on his emotions. His performance was so powerful that I had to alight again just to gather my energy reserves as flying does take considerable focussed energy.
Further along the boulevard, as every corner of the Commonwealth was here richly represented and this was a celebration of the life of the arrivée Sovereign, there were African women in colour garb, singing and dancing with jubilation written all over their cul-de-sac of the astral plane. From time to time, feeling the spirit one or more African woman would step into the boulevard and let their spirit jubilantly soar whilst in trance from singing and dancing their souls out.
The further along the boulevard one explored in flight to the left of the cemetery gates and to which the arrivée Sovereign had yet paraded, I explored whilst flying. Eventually, the lone Rolls Royce would come past a section of the boulevard where the astral plane habitués though humanoid, had heads that were akin to those of many gods from the Egyptian pantheon. Still, there were those who closely resembled Kiwi bird-headed humanoids. As astral plane-focussed dreams go, this contingent of totemic beings was not that unusual a sight. When the arrivée Sovereign’s motorcade of one turned to return and tour past the cemetery, I took to the air again and this time soared higher than usual. This enabled me to fly more swiftly than when lower to the electrically charged activity along the boulevard’s route. I returned to the far end of the boulevard to a stately house which sat at the end. Inside this royal residence, there truly was a battle royal underway. At the centre of this feud was Meghan, Duchess of Sussex. Here, her voice was a booming commanding business. She was powerful and was settling scores. When she spoke, the walls of the stately house cracked, glass and art flew off the walls. Eventually one of the stately house’s cupolas cracked and eventually collapsed. It was a noisy, violent business.
The last time that I had dreamt of an astral plane-focussed dream wherein the past was being prosecuted, involved the recently passed Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis and Maria Callas. That, too, was a battle royal where scores were being settled. That dream is as follows:
*As per the urgency of this dream, I rather suspect that HM The Queen may already have passed by the time of the 2021 Remembrance Service at the Cenotaph; however, London’s hotels would have to be cleared of the Veterans and tourists before the death announcement would be made.
Dreams are the poetic expression of the soul. 