The Second Victorian Age or the Victorian Misogynists Who Spayed the Wives of Windsor…

Just Look at Pepper Mouth, Giving Away the Plot.

For 70 years Queen Elizabeth II has ruled with an iron fist and bullied her family’s every generation. The only persons not so bullied are the third generation after her. She bullied her sister, simply because women are programmed to bully, mistrust and go to war against each other. Most of all, Elizabeth now gratefully departed, can no longer be feared and the truth of who she has always been: insecure, vengeful, manipulative, can, with callous candour, be discussed.

HRH Princess Margaret

HRH Princess Margaret, Countess Snowdon was infinitely more talented and beautiful than her. In the second Elizabethan age women fared miserably once in the orbit of this insecure, compromised Queen. Every woman who came within her orbit at the Court of St. James, was rapaciously preyed on and rendered spent… ravaged… spayed. Margaret was more talented and more beautiful and why should be able to take her lover, Captain Peter Townsend? For openly, intimately touching Captain Townsend at HM The Queen’s coronation, ‘her,’ coronation was enough to cause the young Queen Elizabeth II to canter and overrun Margaret until she was captured and fully spayed. Margaret would never be allowed to have her true love after that. She was left to live a life of debauchery and very slow immolation of spirit, thanks to a mere woman having offended Queen Elizabeth II, the Victorian misogynist.

HM Queen Mary, Queen Consort 26.5.1867 Rabbit 8.4.1 = 4

Elizabeth’s stubbornness was forged by a domineering mother, HM Queen Elizabeth, Queen Mother and paternal grandmother, HM Queen Mary, Queen Consort, who was even more intransigent in her steely, stubbornness. Queen Elizabeth II was brought up, nurtured by a mother who had been groomed by Queen Mary, whose psyche was that of the 19th century European royalty, who saw themselves god-anointed to rule over the world’s inferior, unsightly masses. Elizabeth was groomed by Queen Mary, who died less than three months before Queen Elizabeth II’s coronation on June 2, 1953.

HM Queen Elizabeth, Queen Mother 4.8.1900 Rat 4.3.4 = 11 (Same as Meghan, Duchess of Sussex)

More than anything, after the disaster of King Edward VIII’s abdication, all that mattered to both HM Queen Mary, Queen Consort and HM Queen Elizabeth, Queen Consort was that HM King George VI’s heir was groomed to be as unwaveringly conservative as possible. HM King George VI was a weak man whom his mother and wife readily manipulated. The cannibalising monster that HM Queen Elizabeth II became was forged in the manipulations and 19th century perspectives of HM Queen Mary, Queen Consort and HM Queen Elizabeth, Queen Consort.

Wallis & Edward Duke & Duchess of Windsor

Exotic and glamorous, Wallis apart from being a divorcée was also an American. Unlike aristocratic English families from the colonial eras, the Windsors did not to have this American marry in when they were wealthiest of all in the land. However, a threat she most certainly was. Groomed was HRH Princess Elizabeth of York to loathe Wallis and she was keenly instructed in the way Wallis had to be treated if the Royals were to retain their exclusivity and air of thorough Britishness, sensitive as they already were of their German heritage. Both HM Queen Mary, King Mother and Elizabeth, HRH Duchess of York deeply resented Wallis Simpson and saw her as nothing more than a loose woman, who could never be Queen Consort. That is why on becoming HM Queen Elizabeth, Queen Consort, both Queens saw to it that Wallis and Edward VIII were banished from the kingdom; they used the compromised HM King George VI to send Wallis and her shadow off to Bahamas as Governor. Of course, as they were permanently banned, long after HM Queen Mary, King Mother died in 1953, HM Queen Elizabeth Queen Mother and Queen Elizabeth II saw to it that Edward VIII and Wallis stayed ostracised, slowly withering away in France To the very end, Edward VIII (1972) & Wallis (1986) remained ever spayed and neutered by the Victorian misogynists: HM Queen Mary, Queen Consort, HM Queen Elizabeth Queen Mother and Queen Elizabeth II.

HM Queen Victoria 24.5.1819 Rabbit 6.2.3 = 11

Of course, it does go without saying that intergenerational troika, this Victorian hydra sat atop the slithering head of the original misogynist, HM Queen Victoria. She was too consumed with empire and ruling, subjugating the heathen peoples of the Dark Continent and beyond, enslaved or otherwise. She really had little time to plot and scheme as her descendant troika whose intergenerational bond cemented the Victorian misogynist ethos, which became perfectly and skilfully realised in Queen Elizabeth II. HM Queen Victoria had no connections to HM Queen Elizabeth, Queen Mother and Queen Elizabeth II but they were ably groomed by HM Queen Mary, King Mother who, of course, knew and had far better relations with HM Queen Victoria than HM Queen Alexandra, Queen Consort of HM King Edward VII.

HM Queen Alexandra 1.12.1844 Dragon 1.3.2 = 5

HM Queen Alexandra had little time or use for HM Queen Victoria. She would have found Queen Victoria maudlin and to be avoided at all costs. With an energy body of 1, HM Queen Alexandra had more than enough to handle with the Prince of Wales, her husband, the future HM King Edward VII. Too, it was a cultural divide that could never be bridged. For her part, Alexandra knew to stay clear of HM Queen Victoria as she would have found her mother-in-law’s energy body of 6 a energy sap. To that end, she busied herself with horses, which HM Victoria protested – all the more reason to ride to the hounds, her burgeoning brood and a husband who was a womanising handful. HM Queen Mary like HM Queen Victoria was a Rabbit and thus would have avoided Queen Alexandra as much as the latter avoided Queen Victoria. To that end, Queen Mary found favour in Queen Victoria and toadied up and morphed into Victoria’s favoured. Where she did not have good relations with Mary, she was comforted in her senior years of having Mary’s constancy and doting to count on. Mary modelled herself on Queen Victoria and therein were rooted the Victorian misogynist.

HM King Edward VII & Alice Keppel

Of course, with King Edward VII’s womanising, came Alice Keppel whose more successful courtesan descendant would cannibalise her competition, Diana, Princess of Wales, to eventually be crowned HM Camilla, Queen Consort. HM Queen Mary wanted to purge the monarchy of the licentiousness that had flowered for almost a decade after HM Queen Victoria’s death. If anyone was capable of righting the moral compass of the Victoria Age, it was HM Queen Mary, Queen Consort. The 15 years left to HM Queen Alexandra, King Mother’s life were passed being shunned and eclipsed by HM Queen Mary knew her to have been disfavoured by HM Queen Victoria. Also, HM Queen Mary, Queen Consort had not time for HM Queen Alexandra, King Mother as the latter was physically incapacity as a result of one of her pregnancies and this HM Queen Mary born in the year of the Rabbit would have shunned and found decidedly unroyal.

HM Queen Mary King Mother, HM Queen Elizabeth II, HM King Charles III & HM Queen Elizabeth Queen Mother

Though HM Queen Mary may well have been no reanimation of Queen Victoria’s persona, she certainly modelled herself after Victoria in her bid to remove all semblance of the libertine decade brought on by HM King Edward VII’s reign. HM Queen Elizabeth, Queen Consort was thoroughly groomed by Queen Mary and as such, HM Queen Elizabeth II was groomed by both her mum and paternal grandmother.

HM King Charles III & HM Camilla, Queen Consort.

Though this may be the start of the second Carolean age, it still is chiefly the continuation of the Second Victorian Age, begun by HM Queen Mary, Queen Consort, through her devotees, HM Queen Elizabeth, Queen Consort, through Queen Elizabeth II and her son HM King Charles III, who in turn had been well-groomed by HM Queen Elizabeth, Queen Mother.

There certainly are perks to being king. From the beefy equerry to the convenient living arrangements.

La Duchessa d’Alba & HM Camilla, Queen Consort

Talk about Diana’s revenge. Why share a home with that when you have got the finest cut in the land? It is, indeed, good to be King.

Diana, Princess of Wales

Having thoroughly dispensed with HM Queen Alexandra King Mother, HM Queen Mary King Mother, HM Queen Elizabeth Queen Mother and Queen Elizabeth II for almost the next century would rule the second Victorian age with just about every woman who joined or were on the periphery of the Court of St. James, fast becoming yet another spayed Windsor wife. HM Queen Alexandra, Wallis, Duchess of Windsor, HRH Princess Margaret, Countess Snowdon in true Victorian fashion, denied having her true love close at hand with Captain Peter Townsend shipped off to Belgium. Diana, Princess of Wales would not conform; she was expected to be the corseted ideal conformist Princess of Wales of the second Victorian age. She couldn’t… she wouldn’t and it came at a price to her. Thus she was literally cannibalised by the Victorian misogynists embodied by HM Queen Elizabeth Queen Mother and her daughter, much favoured by HM Queen Mary, Queen Elizabeth II.

Diana Princess of Wales & Dodi Al-Fayed

Diana, Princess of Wales, of course, was disruptive. The role she played in the second Victorian age, was to be the deluge which would so disrupt the status quo that she would end up breaking the dam and unleash the flooding tide of the Age of Aquarius as we move violently away from the Age of Capricorn, which the United Kingdom more embodied than any other nation. Diana, Princess of Wales was the very antithesis of the second Victorian age woman; Queen Mary would never have approved. She was too headstrong, too much indeed, like HM Queen Alexandra, King Mother.

Diana Goddess of the Hunt Who Disruptively Ushered in the Age of Aquarius into the British Monarchy

For that troika of Victorian misogynists, HM Queen Mary, King Mother, HM Queen Elizabeth, Queen Mother and Queen Elizabeth II, Diana, Princess of Wales was easily preyed on. She was not a starchy Capricornian icon; she was filled with wanderlust, adventure, compassion and possessed of that most bizarre quality for the Victorian misogynist, idealism. The EIIR was ruthlessly pragmatic and a consummate realist. She did not care nor give a damn about the little people; however, she knew history and she knew that she had to have them eating out of the palms of her hand rather than telling them to go eat cake. With that hat, bag, shoes, brooch, gloves and the right beguiling smile, her persona was in place and out the doors she went to keep the little people in their place, fawningly obedient and worshipful. Modern, easy, breezy, Aquarian Icon, Diana, Princess of Wales was a threat of the highest order to the cossetted, fixity of the Second Victorian Age ruled over by the Capricornian misogynist that troika of Queens who ruled over weak, compromised men and strong women whom they readily hunted, preyed and destroyed if they so much as betrayed signs of modernity, openness and change.

HM Camilla, Queen Consort

They knew Camilla Shand was a mistress and though she had been with child, she was therefore readily malleable, easily controlled and used as they saw fit. You give up the lovechild and in time, if you keep your damn yap shut, you will be handsomely provided for. Well, can you imagine the old camera-scorned’s luck, Diana, Princess of Wales conveniently meets a violent end and voilà before you can wipe arse, there is she, sans doily mind you, being fawned over, though, the slithering Carolean rat keeps her locked away at Ray Mill. How’s that for revenge; certainly not for Diana, Princess of Wales. Truthfully for Diana, Princess of Wales’ supporters focussed here and now, it is divine justice that HM Camilla Queen Consort never gets her lover in the end. This is a life expired and put to rest, about which Diana, Princess of Wales’ soul could care less.

Camilla Crassly Ridicules Inuit Throat Singers

Just look at this woman in action; how she managed not to have been devoured by HM Queen Elizabeth II and the men in suits (courtiers) is a testament of her power over them with the seismic secret and power she levelled over their heads. Just imagine if Meghan, Duchess of Sussex were to have behaved like that when touring a commonwealth nation and openly ridiculed its culture?

If that were not bad enough, after having flown from London, HM King Charles III and HM Camilla, Queen Consort were met by dignitaries at Edinburgh airport. HM King Charles III deplaned first, followed seconds later by Camilla. HM King Charles III spent little time interacting with Scottish First Minister, Nicola Sturgeon, who when she tried engaging Camilla overlong, the Queen Consort simply abandoned the welcoming party and took to sit in the Rolls Royce where she remained for over a minutes, whilst Charles continued greeting the dignitaries. It was a rude affair and on taking to the car, HM King Charles III simply walked past Camilla, sat and exchanged words with her. Never mind Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, Catherine, HRH Princess of Wales would never in a million years have done that, regardless how much she hisses at HRH Prince William, Prince of Wales in public.

HRH Princess Anne Princess Royal 15.8.1950 Tiger 6.5.2 = 4

Born a blood princess, HRH Princess Anne, Princess Royal naturally escapes all hyper-scrutiny and is never tossed to the Fleet Street abattoirs. I would not be surprised if this woman were not a warrior soul. The monarchy is at the apex of a military complex. Anne as a Tiger woman, like her late mother Queen Elizabeth II is squarely focussed in her duty to the crown, which is supported and protected by the military in its every manifestation. She is solid and all about defending the flame.

Catherine, HRH Princess of Wales

The evolution of Catherine has been unique and thus most interesting to observe. I never thought that she should have ever worn her hair down, which she did at the start of her duties as a senior royal, to all three military occasions on the calendar: St. Patrick’s Day and distributing shamrocks and the photo call with the Irish Guards, trooping the colour and Remembrance’s Parade at the Cenotaph in White Hall. On becoming mother, and future King Mother, Catherine’s style changed dramatically and thereafter, it was always hair gathered up at those three important rites in the military calendar.

What Catherine, HRH Princess of Wales should never ever once have done, was given ammunition to her detractors, who are a real power faction, the courtiers. Her open intimacy with Ben Ainslie, her open perpetual rowing with HRH Prince William, Prince of Wales, her husband, have been serious misjudgements on her part. Should the day ever dawn that William, regrettably, decides he has had enough and asks for a divorce, the most aggressive attack on Catherine will come from courtiers. No matter what, the Sovereign is to whom the courtiers are in service and the thousands of royal householders and courtiers will viciously commence a feeding frenzy on Catherine; being broadsided like that would be a most rude awakening for her. At such an eventuality, she would be as irrelevant to them as Diana, Princess of Wales proved on her divorce from HM King Charles III. They do not care; their jobs are more important than who is the Sovereign or heir’s wife – that Diana, Princess of Wales’ expulsion made perfectly clear. Sadly, Catherine did not reflect on this and realise that she could suffer a similar fate for giving her dormant detractors, the courtiers, ample ammunition with which to work.

Catherine, HRH Princess of Wales

In due course, when it pleases both William and the courtiers/persons in grey, Catherine will find herself being fed on as if by famished piranhas; they will be vicious and merciless – that is, in the event of an eventual separation and divorce of two Princes and Princesses of Wales in say 50 years. The Queen certainly kept a trained eye on all Windsor wives just as keenly as she did her gee-gees; she never dare touch Catherine as she is William’s task companion with infinitely more powerful Michael Overleaves than either Queen Elizabeth II or HRH Prince William, Prince of Wales.

Sarah, Duchess of York 15.10.1959 Pig 6.7.4 = 8

I always remember that Christmas at Sandringham when attending church, Sarah, Duchess of York wore a blue turban with a crown-less broad-brimmed, grey-white hat. As seen on TV, she was larking about and displaying behaviour that is not within the tenets of the the second Victorian age’s misogynists. At the time, HM Queen Elizabeth Queen Mother was still alive and of course, the Queen and her decisions are both decisive and merciless. Sarah’s numbers can be summed up by the song sung at the end of the musical, Spamalot “Always look on the bright side of life.” Just keep chipperly plugging away and somewhere over the next hill will be Valhalla. Spayed, where the hell was Sarah to run off to? Besides, as we now know, they wanted her kept within the grounds of Windsor Castle because they knew damn well that she was controlled there than being off to America, running her damn mouth.

Victorian Misogynist Controls the Narrative

What an absolute crock of shit. An utter sham at trying to boldly lie before the world. Perhaps, the idiots of the island kingdom will buy it but no one else is either obliged or have to tolerate this insult to intellect. Queen Elizabeth II is damn well storming out of a meeting, in which a blasted American commoner told her to remove her garter gown. Of course, anyone conversant with the layout of Windsor Castle would know that she was not headed to the photo shoot but storming from the photo sitting to her quarters. “How dare she damn well speak to me like that?” Human civilisation does not comprise over 8 thousand worlds scattered across 5, 863 star systems; rather, it is but one world in one star system. There are no damn secrets and there are two things that never lie: facts and a camera. I know someone who lived and worked for years in London as a commonwealth diplomat, who on numerous occasions met with The Queen. Over dinner one night, this diplomat dismissed The Queen as “crass, cheap and absolutely nobody.” This person, based on social status in their commonwealth country, only ever callously speaks the truth.

Final CurtainQueen Elizabeth Second Victorian Age’s Penultimate Misogynist

In a mere twenty-four hours, The Queen had the narrative changed and was obsequiously afforded grovelling apologies. Just imagine, The Queen has always had the ability to call off the dogs, whether it is with Diana, Princess of Wales, Meghan, Duchess of Sussex or Sarah, Duchess of York. What that episode with Annie Liebowitz reveals, is that The Queen willingly allowed the Fleet Street abattoirs to feed on female members, chiefly wives, of the monarchy to maintain control over and abuse of these women, the wives of Windsor. It is the most insidious form of misogyny imaginable; these women for not being in the Victorian mould were possibly recruited so that the misogyny and abuse of strong independent women could be engaged and fostered. Indeed, it is as if a history of ritual abuse of women was actively engaged in across the span of the second Victorian age.

Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, formerly, Margaret Beaufort, Tudor Dynasty Matriarch

Just like that, a simple silhouette, no royal pearl necklace. No jewellery… nothing. Just her effortless elegance, that foundation of African melanin and numerology, which attest to the fact that the camera is more besotted with her than anyone else in the Windsor dynasty. Just by being there, she was the most photographed and best dressed. Most of all, just by being there, she had won. Meghan, truth be told, was pissing on old pepper mouth’s grave. Meghan proved the one strong woman who was not felled by the Victorian misogynist, Queen Elizabeth II. Though HM The Queen and the courtiers have succeeded in perpetuating the racist notion, via the Fleet Street abattoirs, that Meghan is the angry Black woman until the day that they address the blackamoor brooch incident who really cares?

The Most Important Asset to Possess When Incarnate Is Intellect; Diana, Princess of Wales Was Dangerous. Feared… She Was A Liability That Had to Be Dealt With

Do not for a nanosecond buy into the lie that The Queen and the rest of the Court of St. James would have you believe, Diana, Princess of Wales was not crazy. Diana, Princess of Wales was one of the shrewdest women to have wedded into the House of Windsor. She was feared and most of all, they knew that she knew her power. That Victorian misogynist, Queen Elizabeth II, empowered by her mother HM Queen Elizabeth Queen Mother, made the smothering spaying of Diana, once she had performed her royal duty as child-bearer, their number one objective. There is positively no way that The Queen was going to give Diana, Princess of Wales a divorce settlement that would allow her to live a comfortable life. She was being fed to the dogs and told to go make your way, after all, Jacqueline Kennedy did it. Go find yourself a billionaire! Smarter than the lot of them, Diana went out and got herself a Muslim with whom she would start a rival dynasty after having converted in due course. Trust an artisan soul (Diana, Princess of Wales and Meghan, Duchess of Sussex) to take the fight to her enemies.

TRH Prince & Princess of Wales, TRH Duke & Duchess of Sussex

What chance in hell did Meghan, Duchess of Sussex have, when already the Court of St. James had dealt with her kind before, in the form of Diana, Princess of Wales, and convincingly dispensed with her with vulgar finality? Just look at the way TRH Prince & Princess of Wales are looking at Meghan as though she were easy prey. Throughout, Meghan looked on edge, utterly uncomfortable. This was all for the Waleses’ benefit and no one else, of that Meghan was fully aware. To be fair, HRH Prince William, Prince of Wales did pick up the phone and call his brother, Prince Harry inviting him and his wife, Meghan, Duchess of Sussex to join him and Catherine, HRH Princess of Wales on the walkabout at Windsor Castle’s long walk. William did not need HM King Charles III’s permission and he certainly did not care what the courtiers would possibly think.

HM King Charles III

Now HM King Charles III has decided that if TRH Duke & Duchess of Sussex are good little banished problems then he just might afford their children royal titles, which is their birth right. What in essence the King is implying, is that there is a strong likelihood that the Sussex children will not be afforded titles. So though they are legitimately royal born children, just like Alexandre Grimaldi-Coste, Prince Albert II of Monaco’s lovechild, the fact that Alexandre has a Black mother was reason to decree that Alexandre would never be in the line of succession or be afforded royal titles.

Louis Ducruet, Jazmin Grimaldi & Alexandre Grimaldi-Coste

Louis Ducruet, Princess Stephanie’s son and Alexandre’s cousin, on the eve of the former’s wedding with Alexandre’s step-sister, Jazmin Grimaldi, who is also of illegitimate birth by a Caucasian American. You are not good enough to be royal or engage in royal engagements because you are born of a Black woman that it all it means. Of course, the Belgian royals fully accepted as one of their own, an illegitimate daughter who was found to be genetically one of their prince’s children.

Crown Prince Pavlos of Greece, Princess Charlene of Monaco, Crown Princess Marie-Chantal of Greece & Prince Albert II of Monaco

Prince Albert II of Monaco with his South African-born wife, Princess Charlene, who clearly sticks around to collect her $10m annually before having her lawyers announce divorce proceedings, is a keen reminder of how racism saturates all of European society. Clearly, Princess Charlene cannot abide being trapped a nanosecond longer than is possible. What sweet revenge for Diana, Princess of Wales not only is HM Camilla, Queen Consort having to sleep alone at Ray Mill whilst King Charles III is at Highgrove, most definitely not alone – seriously, do you really think that Ivar Mountbatten is the only queer in the House of Windsor?

TRH Prince & Princess of Wales, TRH Duke & Duchess of Sussex Westminster Hall

As the final photograph of The Queen callously betrays, at the end of the day, she had become without her hat, handbag, brooch, pearl necklace, gloves and that perfected self-deprecating smile a study of the spent Victorian misogynist. Stripped, she was as if the Wizard of Oz exposed. She spent her life projecting the image of the great unifier, building a legacy of commonwealth inclusivity and togetherness with her willing to bet £35m on the creation of the Sussexes, an interracial couple whom as BBC’s Anita Rani stated on their wedding day, ‘we like her as she can look a little bit Indian…”

HM King Charles III at St. James Palace
HM King Charles III Signing Documents in Northern Ireland

As these two episodes with HM King Charles III illustrate, this is not someone who gives a damn about what Americans or Blacks think. They all know that HRH Princess Michael of Kent was being racially harassing of Meghan, Duchess of Sussex by wearing the blackamoor brooch, yet they dug in their heels and had a hissy fit about these ‘stinking’ Americans, ‘stinking’ Black-Americans being so ridiculously obsessed with race. Meghan and Harry complaining about Princess Blackamoor’s racist attack, HM King Charles III, HRH Prince William, Prince of Wales, HRH Philip, Duke of Edinburgh and The Queen would have reacted precisely as Charles behaved about a mere pen, its placement and or functionality.

The Queen (L) February 2022, (r) May 2016

That blasted flat-arsed racist woman, Princess Blackamoor ought never to have set foot within spitting distance of the Sussexes at their wedding; however, as a form of protest, there was sat her fetid flat arse at St. George’s Chapel on May 19, 2018. After the platinum jubilee coup where Princess Blackamoor was sat even better than the Wessexes, now that The Queen has crawled into her casket, sans crown, shadow and spitefully malignant ego, that racist, Eurotrash, reptilian hybrid was no where to be found sat ahead of the Sussexes at The Queen’s funeral at Westminster Abbey or St. George’s Chapel Windsor.

The Queen’s Victorian Misogynist Persona

One evening when living in Cabbagetown, Merlin had friends over for dinner; they were a smart professional couple from the U. S. west coast – they thankfully were not theatre folk. He was a banker and she, formerly an actor, was now a psychoanalyst. I always remember her talk on fame based on her professional observations. Fame said she, was worse than being a drug addict or alcoholic. Her perceptions were revolutionary. According to her, once famous one was straitjacketed into a life of fixity where the known and accepted persona could little change. Regardless how the famous person’s persona actually resembled one’s true nature or not, you were relegated to living a life that ultimately as you aged, you would grow to resent. She used the example of famous film actors being unable to stay in the game as the camera’s vulgarity dispensed with them.

The Queen’s Victorian Misogynist Persona-Consumed

I remember at the time, she used HM The Queen as a prime example of someone who was locked into being ‘the queen’ and that’s that. Well as her cancer consumed her from within, there were signs that all the years of being the penultimate Victorian misogynist, were exacting its toll on her. Indeed, such persons said Merlin’s actor friend turned psychoanalyst were always the most embittered towards the end of their lives as they, in essence, had never been free. Even when at Balmoral being one of the people as the locals eulogised The Queen, it was still never her true self. That’s a lot of energy, a lot of Maya. All that spaying of royal women who threatened the Victorian misogynist’s beau idéal and all of them: Princess Margaret, Queen Alexandra, HM Camilla Queen Consort, Sarah, Duchess of York, Diana, Princess of Wales, Meghan, Duchess of Sussex were fed to the Fleet Street abattoirs and excruciatingly spayed. Yet, Diana, Princess of Wales, Sarah, Duchess of York and Meghan, Duchess of Sussex fought back. HRH Prince Henry, Duke of Sussex was neutered, his military honours stripped because The Queen was being vindictive in the extreme. For that TRH Duke & Duchess of Sussex fought back and relocated away from the kingdom without the Victorian misogynist having any access to their children.

Courtiers: The Defenders of the Flame

Why indeed should Archie and Lilibet be subjected to racism from the royals or courtiers when The Queen, HM King Charles III and HRH Prince William, Prince of Wales made it perfectly clear that they are not a racist family? Indeed, Prince William may well be right but the courtiers are another matter. They rule and they do by way of leaking everything and targeting those they do not approve of; from Diana, Princess of Wales, Sarah, Duchess of York to most definitely Harry and Meghan. All that Victorian misogyny for having lived long enough, was with karma’s irreverence undone. Courtiers are ruled by the number 9. They are archly conservative, discriminating, scheming, dangerous and the very heart of deception, betrayal and intrigues. These people will be the first to start squawking on the death of The Queen, the second Victorian age’s misogynist.

Minor Royal and courtier, HRH Princess Michael of Kent aka Princess Blackamoor

They will character assassinate the Sussexes far and wide but never once will they be heard to discuss the blackamoor brooch incident. Truth is, they would have been wildly celebratory at the blackamoor brooch incident. Courtiers are advisers and as such, senior palace/royal household staffers with long seniority. They are also minor royals and the relations/descendants of minor royals from prior sovereigns’ reigns. They are not going anywhere. The leaks come from them and they would have been given license to racially harass Meghan, Duchess of Sussex once newly engaged Meghan joined the family. There has not been and never will be an investigation into the racial harassment that Meghan suffered at the hands of Princess Blackamoor and all the other courtiers scattered across all royal households.

Charles & Camilla and Charles, his Equerry & Camilla

Never will these royal sycophants divulge the dirt they know about the Sovereign or its direct heirs; this is why HM King Charles III and his equerry, William and Rose and Catherine and Ben will never be discussed or leaked to the Fleet Street abattoirs.

The Waleses & Rocksavages at State Funeral of Queen Elizabeth II

What these courtiers do not realise is that they reveal themselves in the post funeral attack on Meghan as having been the ones referred to by Meghan, Duchess of Sussex during the Oprah interview in 2021 as denying her doing anything or affording her the help that she sought when struggling during her mental crisis. Do keep in mind that Catherine may well have made Meghan cry because at the time, William had been having an affair with Rose Rocksavage during Catherine’s pregnancy with HRH Prince Louis of Wales.

TRH Prince & Princess of Wales and Catherine & Ben

Indeed, what the courtiers do not realise, is what a horrible, racist light in which they present the House of Windsor. It it extremely important to keep in mind that senior members of the House of Windsor may very well themselves not be anti-Black racists but certainly, Princess Blackamoor and her open racist attack has thusly tarred and feathered them. That is damage which has precipitated many predominantly Black commonwealth nations to begin the process of removing the Sovereign as their head of state.

TRH Duke & Duchess of Sussex Officially Putting the Past Behind Them

All the pain and abuse that Victorian misogynist The Queen had inflicted was returned her way. As she tried to spay an American, a Black American, along came another American, Virginia Giuffre, holding her to ransom, in essence, because she – though the Governor of the Church of England – had a lovechild, HRH Prince Andrew Duke of York, with Lord Porchester. Indeed, Diana vanquished for having been felled by the last of the Victorian misogynists, was ultimately avenged as Harry accepted the £35m wedding then left the kingdom with Black American bride, Meghan Duchess of Sussex, thereby putting an end to The Queen’s disingenuous bid at sustaining her commonwealth legacy with the Brown and Black peoples throughout the commonwealth. How fitting that the last photograph of The Queen had her standing, broken, aided by a walking stick whilst a roaring fire triumphantly danced to her rear.

HM King Charles III

What does it really matter? HM King Charles III may or may not issue letters patent, thereby affording Archie and Lilibet the titles of Prince and Princess. Honest to god, the Sussexes are doing just fine. Conveniently, the Victorian misogynist, The Queen, consumed herself after a decades-long campaign of spaying and even murdering Windsor wives. How can anyone lay blame at Meghan, Duchess of Sussex’s door when Sarah, Duchess of York and Diana, Princess of Wales had been equally spayed and ravaged? One of the reasons why it has been especially hard for Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, is that for having lived a life of ‘passing’ she radically transitioned overnight to being the most racially preyed on Black woman in history and that cannot be easy. Obviously, The Queen cannot be said to have had no part in any of these campaigns, especially so when each Windsor wife was subjected to campaigns that were alarmingly similar in tone and execution.

TRH Duke & Duchess of Sussex Exiting Westminster Abbey at The Queen’s State Funeral

The Sussexes got fabulous material for the Netflix docuseries with the death and state funeral of The Queen. The Sussexes don’t need the Windsors, just look at them, HM King Charles masquerading with that beard of his, who seems blissfully unaware that sporting invisible doilies does not, in the slightest, lessen the fright. Now, HM King Charles III no more desires her than he did Diana, Princess of Wales at the start of their wedding; too busy him spending quality time with his equerry.

Catherine, HRH Princess of Wales

Catherine, HRH Princess of Wales, bless her, was the only one who escaped the Victorian misogynist archetype’s rapacious talons, which reigned for near a century through three queens. Though she certainly displayed that misogyny with Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, it certainly would be good if she were to lay to rest that voracious misogynist archetype that has plagued the Queens of Windsor and terrorised the wives of Windsor. Only time will tell. In the meantime, she will go on being headstrong and holding her own against pugnaciously stubborn HRH Prince William, Prince of Wales. Theirs will be the gap generation reign where either the second Victorian age ruled by the misogynist archetype finally concludes and the House of Windsor moves into the age of Aquarius or it does not and that would be regrettable. Then again, if not Catherine, HRH Prince George of Wales does possess a fourth number of 5, which looks to be one part libertine and nine parts scandals all around – that auspiciously is an Aquarian archetype if ever there was one.

History is a respecter of no one. History, indeed, will not be kind to Queen Elizabeth II. She embodied the Victorian misogynist to perfection. This was an approach that was fostered by HM Queen Mary, King Mother, who then groomed both her impressionable daughter-in-law, HM Queen Elizabeth, Queen Mother and her favoured granddaughter, Queen Elizabeth II. The second Victorian age will hopefully be well and truly concluded with the passing of Queen Elizabeth II. The emotional and mental wreckage that this Queen effected in the lives of the wives of Windsor can not be overstated. Truth be told, she was, in the true Victorian sense, the anti-feminist Queen. Women who were not in direct line of succession to the throne, simply did not matter to MLK Queen Elizabeth II. As a matter of fact, I would even go so far as to state that not since the reign of HM King Henry VIII did royal wives, Tudor wives, fare so badly as the wives of Windsor. HRH Princess Margaret, Countess Snowdon, Camilla Shand-Parker-Bowles, HM Queen Consort, Diana, Princess of Wales, Sarah, Duchess of York and Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex. They were all bullied, abused and even murdered, forced out by divorce or banishment by way of the Fleet Street abattoirs with the tacit consent and machinations of the courtiers and Queen Elizabeth II herself.

Casket of Queen Elizabeth II

With her passing, the end of the saturnian, militarised, warring age of Capricorn passes within the British monarchy; though the transition will be chaotic, here’s hoping that the transition to the age of Aquarius within the British monarchy well and truly marks the end of the misogynistic second Victorian age.

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Heineken Jazzaldia 2018, San Sebastian Spain

Vocals – Cécile McLorin Salvant

Piano – Sullivan Fortner

Bass – Paul Sikivie

Drums – Kyle Poole

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

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©2013-2023 Arvin da Brgha. All Rights Reserved.

I Remember… Plus, Dream of Queen’s Passing.

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.

So in a bid to kill the hot rumour of Billy going next-door for the real honey pot, the same blasted media sycophants who sang Meghan’s praises on the announcement of the engagement in 2017, Dan Wootton and Piers Morgan and others, course-corrected and were let loose on Meghan, Princess Henry of Wales by none other than William with the tacit agreement of HM The Queen. Naturally, The Queen would go along with the media smear of Meghan, Duchess of Sussex as all Sovereigns are above reproach and should never ever be sullied by British tabloid media; besides, HM The Queen had her own reasons.

Well off to the pound with you, BBB (Bastard Bourbon Billy) for raiding the Savage Rock chick inn. And wouldn’t you know it, just like his Bourbon father, Billy goes off and breeds with another man’s wife. That precisely is why he has been made to relocate to Adelaide ‘Dog Pound’ Cottage with only one of his two daughters in tow. Some consolation that; Bastard Bourbon Billy was not allowed to ditch the family embarrassment, Damien, for the Bastard Princess of Norfolk.

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 “Rushied,” every one of these snake-bellied bigots would never once move their hideous lizard lips to say a single word against Meghan… and Harry.

Honest to fucking god, what is little flat-arsed, soot-lunged, adulterer going to say that she is not racist and she never made Meghan cry? Yeah, right… just like she never refused to shake hands with some blasted bipedal simian bitch in Jamaica. Sooner or later, every dog will not only lick itself but will also eat its vomit and never ever, should you be either shocked or surprised by that. It is in the nature of dogs to do so, just as it is in the nature of far too many Whites to hate, lie and vilify Blacks for positively no fucking reason. Of course, they will ever say they have nothing to do with slavery and may even glibly apologise in their best insincere “fuck you, get over it” banter as when William did just that in Jamaica and again at the unveiling of the Windrush sculpture at Waterloo Station. It means absolutely nothing when you know that this is the same dolt who had the temerity to protest, the day after the Oprah interview aired, claiming, “We are very much not a racist family.” Seriously, were it not for the subjugation of Chinese and Indians and the gross enslavement of Black Africans, Britons today would be no better off that miserably poor-as-fuck Albanians.

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.

https://dreampoetica.com/2022/08/01/tea-time/

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.

Queen Elizabeth II Oil on Canvas 9.5 x 6.0 Inc Lucian Freud ©2001

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, Duke of Sussex, Major Jonathan Thompson, Duchess of Sussex & 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 & Duchess of Sussex’s parting so long to his Commander-in-Chief.

Lightness of Being Photo Lithography 45.25 x 44.7 Inc ©2007 Chris Levine

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!

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.

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Gerald Clayton in Concert July, 2021

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

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©2013-2023 Arvin da Brgha. All Rights Reserved.

Tea Time!

HM The Queen. 21.4.1926 Tiger 3.7.7 = 8

All sevens can see beyond the veil and they are always without exception very refined, reserved and do not do uncouth nor drama. Why is that you ask? At the core of their being, such persons are callously amoral – they do not care… they do not empathise. So then let’s peer beyond the gullible small-islanders’ inability to look beyond the rigorously maintained façade of the major players of the BRF and, in particular, relative to the Duke & Duchess of Sussex.

Diana, Princess of Wales 1961 <O> 1997

Why would HM The Queen take so long to present after Diana’s death? She did not give a damn, the woman was an inconvenience and she was not going to honour her by appearing before the little people, who clearly loved Diana above all others in the kingdom. She detested Diana. She also had to come to terms with the fact that Diana was eliminated and clearly a lot of atoning had to be done to eventually face the public. Her appearance with the windows of Buckingham Palace open was a cold, ugly affair. Don’t ever forget, PM Tony Blair had to beg HM The Queen to come forward and address the very pained public.

HM The Queen’s Tribute to Diana, Princess of Wales

Apart from this utterly saccharine speech, there were moments captured of HM The Queen outside Buckingham Palace on the family’s return from Balmoral. Whilst Charles, William and Harry attended The Queen and HRH Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh, the Queen’s reaction to the grieving subjects was a cold nasty affair. There was one point where someone reached out to her in their moment of grief and despair at Diana’s death and she simply shuddered and moved on with a smile that was the fakest most mechanical movement of facial muscles imaginable. Regardless what she said in that speech, this is the same woman who did absolutely nothing as Diana emotionally and mentally fell apart whilst the rest of the BRF and staffers abused Diana. Of course, it goes without saying, Diana was struggling with the fact that she was not loved and they all knew that Charles and Camilla were true lovers – especially if that child sequestered in Australia is the adulterers’. Nonetheless, they could, none of them: HM Queen Elizabeth, The Queen Mother, Charles, Philip, Anne and the entire ghoulish cast, have given two fucks how mightily Diana suffered. Tough!

Diana, Princess of Wales & Dodi Al-Fayed

Regardless what one may think of Mohamed Al-Fayed; there is very little to suggest that the man was just a grieving father. He had the means to have had the truth of the matter rigorously investigated. The classist, racist British establishment and the BRF did not want the disgrace, as they perceived it, of the mother of a future king of the realm being wedded to an Arabic, moneyed Moslem whom they thought of as being too brash and having bought his way in, when in fact he was not especially wanted. There was a price to pay.

Dodi Al-Fayed 17.4.1955 Goat 8.3.5 = 7

Dodi and Diana had two numbers in common, 8 & 7. For both of them, theirs was a 7 in the fourth position; this placement of 7 is more often than not the sign of public assassination – and not just merely assassination. Numbers do not lie; Mohamed knows the truth. Besides, as a father, he would have had countless dreams after Dodi’s passing in which he would have been enlightened as to what really took place and who the source of the assassination order would have been. The Duke of Lancaster would not have been unaware.

Duke & Duchess of Sussex, St. Paul’s Cathedral June 03, 2022.

Just remember, what is past, is present, is future. Everything that the Sussexes are being put through, is precisely what Mohamed Al-Fayed experienced from the British Establishment, aristocracy and BRF. Of course Mohamed Al-Fayed certainly had no qualms about telling them all to go to hell and did, as well he should have. They crucified his son for having the temerity to seek to join the BRF by proxy.

Mohamed Al Fayed 27.1.1929 Dragon 9.1.4 = 5

They would have been spied on by Mi5 and CIA and obviously, the very day that Dodi went out and purchased a 700$k engagement ring for a known expectant, Diana, Princess of Wales, they incredulously perished in a car crash. Of course, Diana survived; however, she was not meant to have survived so she was then put down. It takes a copious dosage of morphine or whatever else they did, to have Diana finally stop being a goddamn pain in the arse. Never forget that she had provoked their ire by producing a firstborn with decidedly Bourbon markers. In all of this, of course, was Mohamed Al-Fayed whose numerology coupled with his wealth, assured that he did not give a damn and called it as he saw it, which is to say that he was and remains spot on about what went down.

Diana, Princess of Wales

Diana’s appalling treatment by the senior royals, of which HM The Queen was keenly aware, was savage in the extreme. One should not be in the least surprised that Meghan, a Black American self-made woman with more charisma, intellect and eloquence than the slovenly broodmare who gave birth to the blasted freak, Prince Damien, was racially preyed on and driven out of the kingdom. Good fucking god, how in high hell do you explain that hideous woman, Princess Michael of Kent being at Meghan’s wedding after she had worn the blackamoor brooch to The Queen’s Christmas lunch, 2017. She then was sat closer to the Prince & Princess of Wales (Camilla rightfully should be called the Princess of Wales because she literally cannibalised Diana, Princess of Wales; calling her Duchess of Cornwall is too good – she should be labelled as what she is) and the Duke & Duchess of Cambridge at The Queen’s platinum jubilee service of thanksgiving at St. Paul’s Cathedral on June 03, 2022 than even the Wessexes, whilst the Sussexes were sat across the aisle and behind the Wessexes and next to the disgraced Duke of York’s two daughters and their admirable spouses. All this would have been with the tacit approval of HM The Queen, yet I certainly hope that the Sussexes do not see the monarch as being in any way an ally of theirs; she is not.

Lord Snowdon, Princess Michael of Kent & Mark-Francis Vandelli

Per the ubiquity of a fly on shit, there has been Princess Michael of Kent aka Princess Blackamoor, partout. She was forever holding holier-than-thou court in the royal box at Wimbledon 2022 as if the point needed to be stressed further, beyond the seating at St. Paul’s Cathedral on June 03, 2022. But lapping it up in spades, she most certainly was. Less than a month prior, there was Lord Snowdon, who sat like the Kents, close to the Cambridges and next to that aesthetically challenged buffoon with the mannish spouse, and on leaving St. Paul’s Cathedral, made a point of completely ignoring the Sussexes as they waited at the top of the stairs for their ride. Snowdon, at the time, snickered and went to chat up the clown, who had been seen embraced and his loyalty assured by William recently photographed for effect, hugging him, as they smugly telegraphed to the world their collective snub of the Sussexes. Of course, there sat Snowdon in the royal box at Wimbledon, who had been found being intimately same-sexed, which male royal never does, sat next to that blasted classist boor, minor TV thespian and snob, legs crossed and his mangina’s anal verge likely just-so softly plush for being filler-saturated. Of course, it goes without saying, his plush bussy was also likely waxed and bleached. Charmant. Sooner or later, Princess Blackamoor will crawl the frig into her casket and when she does, she most definitely will rot the fuck in hell with Idi Amin sat on her god-fugly face – the vile racist swine. Rule number 1, you don’t like Black people… fuck you! As Merlin once remarked, “What good is Black rage if it’s kept in a Ming vase on the mantel?”

Martina Hingis & Duchess of Cambridge at Wimbledon

As if it were not enough to drive home the fact that the Cambridges are really hyper-obsessed with putting that BBD – no, not big Black dick, Black Bitch/Diva, Meghan, in her place, Catherine just had to invite Martina Hingis to the royal box. Not as if she had won multiple grand slams at Wimbledon or something, like the Williams sisters.

Prince William day after the Sussexes’ interview with Oprah Winfrey aired.

Of course, Hingis was notorious back in the day to have alleged that there was no racism in tennis and she had no clue what the Williams sisters and their father were going on about. Always, the racists give themselves away by readily opining about the non-existence of racism.

Lady Gabriella Windsor-Kingston

Princess Blackamoor’s daughter who always looks like the sporty buffoon’s very mannish wife’s twin brother who’s recently fully transitioned. Surprise, surprise, though Princess Blackamoor feigned approval, in the end her ambiguous-gendered spawn came to her senses and married a perfectly sensible WASP, rather than the Dravidian, who though not Black, is not White.

Olivia Bentley

Of course, the only one who was both elegant and the epitome of class, was the very stylish, acerbic Olivia Bentley of Made in Chelsea, who obviously does not hang around with grifters whose baby daddy has of late been dropping soap and being somebody’s bitch. This was at the recent service of thanksgiving for a loved royal confidante.

Michael Fagan

So strange this tale and, of course, whatever you want to believe of what was said to have actually occurred, you are free to so choose. Asking for cigarettes is certainly telling.

Philip, Anne & Elizabeth.

Here’s a little insight into HM The Queen’s amoral 7thness; she returned to London from Malta, gave birth to HRH Princess Anne, Princess Royal then returned to Malta sans new-born mere days later. Naturally, it was the nannies’ duty to care for the new-born. Why should any Queen have to be a mere mother, indeed. Back to Malta she returned to her favoured stallion.

Of course, 8 years later after some obvious froideur, along comes what would in her tenth decade prove her own nightmare and Jeffrey Epstein’s prized blackmail, sex-crazed royal addict, whose second offspring bears an uncanny resemblance to the much favoured steed, Porchy.

As with Mohamed Al-Fayed, the Windsors and their organisation have got all the power to act like a unchallenged crime syndicate. Just as Mohamed was dismissed by the media as being a cuckoo, grieving old man for asking pertinent questions at the death of his son, Dodi Al-Fayed and his new love, Diana Princess of Wales, so too they have managed to have Meghan, Duchess of Sussex eviscerated in the media. Too bad for them though that they do not control American media and Meghan is an American and has power players in her corner who will always matter. Just look at the power of the Windsors. Lady Colin Campbell has never been able to write a biography about the Duke & Duchess of Cambridge. Obviously, this is because Prince William, a tempestuous stubborn customer, has made it perfectly clear to all the royal rota hacks and more importantly all the heads of the book publishing houses that there is to be no permission or approval of biographies of either him or his dull-as-dishwater wife with an equally violent temper.

Eleven years into their marriage and the only biography to have been written about either the Duke or Duchess of Cambridge has beenWilliam at 40″ by Robert Jobson. Lady Colin Campbell writing her scathing tomes on the Sussexes is all about income stream for her. In the long term, she is hoping that this puts her in favour with the Cambridges, who see her for the gutter-sniping fraud that she is. Just think about it, the Poundland Countess, with her very own castle, has never written a book about Camilla, Charles or William and Catherine. How free is the press in the kingdom, if one cannot write about some members of the BRF? As such, it is a land of flagrant propaganda and little else as the pantomime rolls from one generation to the next as it has from one millennium to the next.

Moreover, when it pleases the Windsors and the firm to be oversaturated in the media, there is always a sacrificial lamb proffered. Diana was never liked by her husband, even less so by his mother, who knew all along that she was a convenient cover for Charles’s dalliances and Australian-disposed baggage, all of which would be conveniently covered up with Diana being skewered in the media. There are two things that the modern BRF do with predicable élan: royal weddings, which sell the fairy story and then the scandals follow thereafter. Charles and Diana, the wedding of the century, followed soon thereafter by Sarah, Duchess of York being fed to the Fleet Street abattoirs. Of course, as we have now come to see, “Fergie” was the initially proffered lamb, as it turns out, it was so much smoke and mirrors to cover the Wales’ toxic sham of a marriage, which was coming fast undone.

Lady Colin Campbell

There is a part of me that secretly likes this woman because at the end of the day, she is Jamaican and there is only one word which does not exist in Jamaican patois… shy! Guaranteed, you will laugh loudest when with Jamaicans!

Lady Colin Campbell Books:

Publication Order of Standalone Novels

Empress Bianca(2008)It’s been pulped and I’ve a copy

Publication Order of Non-Fiction Books

Lady Colin Campbell’s Guide to Being a Modern Lady(1986)
Diana in Private(1992)
The Royal Marriages(1993)
A Life Worth Living(1997)
The Real Diana(2005)
Daughter of Narcissus(2009)
The Untold Life of Queen Elizabeth, The Queen Mother(2012)
The Queen’s Marriage(2018)
People of Colour and the Royals(2019)
Meghan and Harry(2020)

Voilà! Not a single biography of adulterers Charles & Camilla. So too none of Prince Philip, HM The Queen, HRH Princess Anne, Princess Royal and, of course, none of either William and Catherine, together or alone. How in high hell can the most deliciously scathing biographer of the realm not once have put pen to paper and written from Porchy to Rose Hanbury and all the juicy tea.

Penelope Knatchbull, Countess Mountbatten of Burma

Furthermore, where is that biography of Prince Philip and Penelope, star-crossed lovers? Indeed, Penelope Knatchbull, Countess Mountbatten of Burma was not only well-sat at the Westminster Abbey service of thanksgiving for HRH Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh but also, she was the only non-Windsor family member in attendance at HRH Prince Philip’s funeral in April 2021, ‘trusted confidante’ of the late prince as she was… take a sip dears. God only knows, it is not as if, Lady Colin Campbell has another 50 years of living and writing to go; certainly, the recent passing of the elegant Lily Safra should have given her pause. Stop inciting hatred for dollars on YouTube and get to writing! Just look at the wealth of material: Porchy, Penelope, Camilla, Tampon-Prince, their Australian-sequestered love child… and obvious others.

Meghan, Duchess of Sussex & Henry, Duke of Sussex

Speaking of biographies… I will not include herein a picture of his fucking ugly face; however, suffice it to say, no other group are possessed of need to incite anti-Black racism as are some Jews, in particular Ashkenazi. Of course, such persons are always, as is the cultural norm, readily believed and their word seen as divine law. As I am Afro-Sephardic, I could not give a goddamn whom so fuck-all takes offence. This man has written a scathing biography, which is lauded in all quarters because god only knows, not only does he clearly walk on water but he obviously farts Skittles.

15/9/1984 Rat Henry, Duke of Sussex 6.6.1 = 4

4/8/1981  Rooster Meghan, Duchess of Sussex 4.3.4  = 11

6/5/2019 Pig Archie Harrison 6.2.5 = 4

4/6/2021 Ox Lilibet Diana 4.1.6 = 11

In numerology there are no lies… as in dreams. There is perfect synergy between Harry’s and Archie’s numbers, just as the same is true between Meghan’s and Lilibet Diana’s numbers. According to one of many lies being peddled by this charlatan biographer, who is just loving inciting more hatred for Meghan for having stepped out of her pre-ordained line – some people – Meghan could not have been born in 1981 and clearly is possibly as old as 46. Well, I have run the numbers and each child will numerologically have at least 2 numbers as the parent with whom they have a parenting bond. Obviously, as with Archie & Harry, Lilibet Diana would have to have been born with master number 11 like Meghan for there to be that harmony. Also, Lilibet Diana would be born with master numbers when it is so closely bonded a family; it is literally them against the Windsor’s world, which is considerable.

Meghan, Lilibet Diana & Mrs. Misan Harriman and Kids

4/8/1981 Rooster Meghan Markle 4.3.4 = 11

4/8/1975 Rabbit Meghan Markle 4.3.7 = 5

4/8/1976 Dragon Meghan Markle 4.3.8 = 6

4/8/1977 Snake Meghan Markle 4.3.9 = 7

4/8/1978 Horse Meghan Markle 4.3.1 = 8

4/8/1979 Goat Meghan Markle 4.3.2 = 9

4/8/1980 Monkey Meghan Markle 4.3.3 = 1

Archie, Harry, Meghan & Lilibet Diana

The only numbers which makes sense vis-à-vis Lilibet Diana’s and Harry’s, for that matter, are those of August 4, 1981, year of the Rooster. That leaves Meghan with master numbers of 11, which always denotes a life of destiny and such people are incredibly astute, come fully prepared for the journey ahead. If Archie and Harry are so simpatico, then clearly Lilibet Diana would have to be equally simpatico with her mum, Meghan and that she is to a mum born, August 4, 1981. End of discussion. Of course, like Orly Taitz herr Schmuckface just knows that for having his head so far up god’s ass, he speaks/writes the truth. Well, of course, the children do not exist; they are invisible, Meghan was never pregnant, it was a pillow. And on and on and fuck-all, on and on.

Boris Johnson Bigoted Warts And All…

Of course, he it was who had some rather bigoted choice observations, unsolicited, of President Barack Obama. But enough about vile buffoons, biting off infinitely more than they can chew – the Skittles-farting clown. This is the thing about some Jews, they are always being given a pass when they are racially predatory towards Blacks. And this is where BRF-sanctioned, character assassination biographer du jour, who has already been called out for having appropriated persons quotes and used as sources and warped their quotes in his vendetta against the schwarze shiksa, proves himself just another anti-Black racist. As though, only Jews are supposed to have ever experienced persecution, just as with Tina Brown (not Jewish), Mr. Schmuckface writes a 300-page plus book and never once mentions Princess Michael of Kent’s blackamoor brooch, which has been the biggest exposé of the racism to which Meghan, Duchess of Sussex was subjected. Since then as if to drive home the point, that blasted flat-arsed, hideous Rhino-legged racist swine, Princess Blackamoor, has been upfront and prominently placed at every opportunity.

Just Who Made Who Cry, Definitively Answered

Honest to frigging god, do you think that herr Schmuckface would have written a biography about a Jewish fiancée of Harry’s, who had been subjected to anti-Semitism when a minor royal showed up at HM The Queen’s Christmas lunch, wearing a swastika brooch and claiming not to have known that it was offensive and in this hyperbole, claiming that it was a Hindu cross brooch. Though it is true and even an Ethiopian and Navajo cross, we all, the world over, know that a damn swastika is a symbol of hideous anti-Semitism. Herr Schmuckface is a vicious coward; he knows that all he has to do, is go out there and say that Meghan made Catherine cry and that settles it. He is after all a Jew – it must be so. He is a damn bigot and a liar. The proof that Catherine made Meghan cry is validated by her behaviour at the March 2020 Commonwealth Service of Thanksgiving at Westminster Abbey. Catherine had been rude to Meghan in the lead up to the royal wedding about the bridesmaids’ tights. Catherine is an insecure woman, who was threatened by Meghan’s greater charisma, intellect and eloquence. The proof that Catherine made Meghan cry, is validated when she came up to take her seat at Westminster Abbey and though Meghan waved her right wrist that was placed on a her lap as she pointedly smiled at Catherine, Catherine refused to look at or acknowledge Meghan. At that point, the world was convinced that Meghan had made Catherine cry, which is all the more reason, Catherine deliberately ignored Meghan to perpetuate the lie, thanks to Camilla Tominey’s exclusive warped version, in the Daily Telegraph in November 2018, of what occurred after the Sussexes’ successful first tour in the South Pacific.

Catherine Meeting Jews at Buckingham Palace Garden Party

Most of all, Catherine is a White female who happens to be prejudiced towards Blacks – energy body of 9 – and she does not give a damn that it came to this. She will be Queen Consort and has given birth to the future sovereign… she does not have to give a damn what anyone thinks. To hell with the yank imposter and a Black one at that. Catherine, William for that matter, favour Jews and she has time and again demonstrated unease around Blacks, though, at this point, she has been made aware that optics are more important than personal bias. End of discussion.

Prince Damien holds court with his racially predatory kin

Just like that yenta, Angela Whiny-whatshername, and Tina Brown, there must never be any discussion of anti-Black racism with regards the BRF’s senior and minor titled royals. They have gleefully torn their flat arses in the negro from Compton’s face since that day in December 2017 and as recently as the thanksgiving service at St. Paul’s Cathedral on June 03, 2022, yet there is no connection to racism neither are the BRF racist. Just like Tina and the two Jews in question, the time is long past to stop cutting HM The Queen slack. She has been aware of this hideous racism all along and done nothing; indeed, it has gone on like a bad joke month after month, after month. The best way to condone repugnant behaviour is to ignore it and do nothing about it. Herr Schmuckface has lied about who made whom cry and he has a serious credibility issue when he runs his ugly head off in excess of 300 pages and never once mentions the blackamoor brooch; talk about a clear-cut case of bias. To hell with the lot of these BRF-bought or purely sycophantic biographers.

Listen to Catherine in the background; in the original version – long scrapped from YouTube – she accuses the amateur photographer of having stalked them and seen recently doing so. All this triggers William who is her task companion as well as the ordinal partner in their pairing. The poor man doesn’t stand a chance, she said that he was there and that is that. Of course, it behoves William to at all times have security tracking with them… anywhere… at all times. There are no excuses. William sounds so vulnerable and pained; it is also an image of the Cambridges that must not be seen. When you are going to go to such great lengths to demonise your own brother and his Black wife; you cannot have it both ways. At the risk of stating the obvious, it takes two hands to clap.

TRH Duke & Duchess of Cambridge, 2011

Now we come to the modern age, and time to throw another fairy story wedding. William was finally presented to the realm and as stupid can only be expected to do stupid, there was he got into the carriage and sat with his back to the horses and then remained sat whilst his new bride entered the carriage. Neither his brother nor father sat their arse down until their new wife was sat in the carriage – no uncouth, unaware dolts, Charles & Harry. Of course, from day one, the Cambridges openly rowed in full view of everyone on the ride back to Buckingham Palace and again on the balcony, they hissed at each other. Far be it from the blind to have taken notice of anything so obvious as truth. Of course, this wedding occurred long after the inconvenience of Diana was dealt with once and for all and she was put down… truly off to the abattoir she was sent and conveniently so in a tunnel where none of the many street level surveillance cameras could have caught anything.

TRH Duke & Duchess of Sussex, 2018

Now the fairy story needed to be updated and the Windsors prove themselves progressive and inclusive; the Commonwealth after all is not exclusively Caucasian. It is one thing to talk the talk but you have got to be able to walk the walk. As HRH Prince Charles and Doria Ragland returned to the quire after having signed the registry, there was HRH Prince William openly ridiculing Meghan and her culture before her mother, Doria. This he also did before his embarrassed father, the Hollywood players across the quire aisle, HM The Queen and the entire world. When the Sussexes proved too popular and eclipsed the Cambridges, the bigoted Cambridges had to sabotage the Sussexes. As in the past, after a fairy story wedding, time for scandal. Without a sacrificial lamb delivered to the Fleet Street abattoirs, the pantomime and the Windsors lose their lustre… their very appeal. What better way to annul the very existence of the Duchess of Sussex and her marriage into the BRF, start a campaign to vilify and demonise her. Of course, though not dissimilar to North Korea in its jaundiced coverage of the Windsors, the Fleet Street abattoirs keep offering too much grizzle and shank. All this, as was the case with Sarah, Duchess of York and her fall from grace, is to cover the scandals within the thorny marriage of the Cambridges.

Interesting isn’t; then again, there are no coincidences. The official portrait of the Cambridges has Catherine wearing a green dress. The night that actor, Will Smith slapped comedian Chris Rock, his wife, Jada Pinkett Smith was wearing a green dress with yards of train. Green is the negative colour of 9/toxic energy; Jada has four 9s in her numerology. Catherine was not comfortable, sat next to Meghan in the royal box at Wimbledon and thus wore green and had her sister-in-law sat between her and her sister, Pippa Middleton-Matthews. Persons with 9 are more toxic, bitchy and vile for wearing green. Catherine studied art history and she knows the vibration that clothes and jewellery effect; she is subtle, vicious but does not go unnoticed by those with eyes to see. Green, of course, represents nature, life, moss, arboreal splendour and its negative aspect is reflected in all things that are venomous, acidic, toxic.

Duke & Duchess of Sussex & Oprah Winfrey
Margot Robbie Accepts for Brad Pitt 2020 BAFTA Awards

What these sorry saps did not factor into the equation, was Meghan collecting her rock, Harry, and saying, “life is not a dress rehearsal and I don’t do Prissy. Let’s get the hell outta here!” Like Sarah, Duchess of York, Meghan was supposed to have stuck around and been walked all over by the BRF and Fleet Street. And this is why the Sussexes have won, from HM The Queen on down to that blasted buffoon, to say nothing of the many dalliances exposed and whispered about.

Just as William did not attend Wimbledon on the same day that Lord Snowdon was sat his Athenian arse next to the minor thespian put-through, so too he is very careful to never have James Middleton show up at Wimbledon and definitely not sat in the royal box whilst he is there. Naturally, one would not want to have persons start entertaining the thought that James has been ridden like a prized polo pony for many moons now. There is a reason why, James is kept safely out of reach, if only to pop up time and again, doing his best Saint Francis of Assisi… a right sissy that one… to be sure. So as much as they would like to have wanted the Sussexes about being shat on by Fleet Street and the rest of the realm, to serve as foil for the Cambridges’ fractured, messy marriage – exhibit Prince Damien for one – they have got no end of thinly veiled scandals percolating just below the surface.

Duke & Duchess of Sussex Enter St. Paul’s Cathedral, June 03, 2022

What the whole debacle in St. Paul’s Cathedral on June 03, 2022 revealed at HM The Queen’s platinum jubilee service of thanksgiving, is how weak the Windsors are next to the Sussexes. The Queen deliberately did not attend because she wanted to have the Sussexes embarrassed before the world without her being present and looking as though complicit. What… no shit, pigs don’t fly! She has spent the better part of ten, eight in an official capacity, decades pulling the wool over the eyes of the somnambulant clowns of her island realm but few else are duped by her and her clan’s antics. Why even go so low as to have the Sussexes sat where they were but then to top it off, just as her being at the Sussexes’ wedding, Princess Blackamoor was sat within fart-sniffing distance of the Prince & Princess of Wales as well as the Duke & Duchess of Cambridge. They have no power; when the Sussexes exited the island sanatorium, the Windsors lost their power to thoroughly fuck with and manipulate them. They have upped their attacks by having a spate of biographies printed; however, everyone of them fail to mention the blackamoor brooch incident because, clearly, all these biographers are sanctioned and directed on how to focus the narrative of the runaway slave, Meghan. To not mention the blackamoor brooch incident and Princess Blackamoor’s subsequent prominence, does one thing and one thing only; it exposes the fact that the Windsors are die-hard racists. All the nonsense of Commonwealth unity is a damn farce.

Reptilian Spawn, Prince Damien Born to Toxic 9 Energy Body Mother

Don’t you worry your sweet little head, you’ve got scandal aplenty with Prince Damien chomping at the bit to get on with life and cause you no end of dread and embarrassment. As for Prince Damien, two other royals had a fourth number of 7 and they were both assassinated: Diana, Princess of Wales (1/7/1961 Ox 1.8.7 = 7) and Lord Louis Mountbatten, Earl of Burma 25/6/1900 Rat 7.4.5 = 7). It is very possible that either of his parents will choose to have Prince Damien put down for being a royal pain in the arse; it is what they do and have always done.

HM The Queen at 96

HM The Queen’s reign has been possessed of her amoral nature; it has had a cycle of abuses that show utter disregard for human decency, compassion, as well as, both emotional and mental wellbeing. During her reign there has been one consistency, no care for senior royals wellbeing if they are not in line to be future sovereign. From HRH Princess Margaret, her sister – whose emotional and mental health she ruined by her ruthless inconsiderateness. Not just her having abandoned the new-born HRH Princess Anne to return to HRH Prince Philip in Malta, in later years, she would turn a blind eye and allow the utter abuse of Diana, Princess of Wales who had been simply used for approved heirs, to say nothing how Sarah, Duchess of York has been abused and kept around like a despised corgi just so that one can kick it at every opportunity.

Do Drink Up… Backstory Time.

Lady Diana Spencer & Camilla Parker Bowles, 1980

Diana was not a stranger to them. As the preceding photograph attests, seven years into her marriage to Andrew Parker-Bowles, (who incidentally was also a lover of HRH Princess Anne, Princess Royal), there was Camilla, clearly having an affair with HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales, whilst grooming Lady Diana Spencer to be Charles’ approved concubine; how not unlike Ghislaine Maxwell was the very married Mrs. Camilla Parker-Bowles. All of this, HM The Queen would have been intimately aware of and clearly approved of. So a barely legal, Lady Diana Spencer was being squired, groomed and proffered by Camilla who by that point had sequestered her lovechild with HRH Prince Charles to the colonies in Australia. Obviously, HM The Queen had a direct hand in the lovechild being removed from the scene; there are simply some scandals that cannot be tolerated. The scandals that spring from the Fleet Street abattoirs do so with the royal seal of approval by none other than HM The Queen.

Diana, Princess of Wales & King Juan-Carlos de Bourbon

Diana, for being a mature soul artisan, was no pushover. She was a quick study, when she saw that she was merely a convenient, acceptable womb and that Camilla, her handler, would never stop meddling in her marriage to Camilla’s true lover, like any artisan-soul worth their adventurous, dramatic salt, Diana went off and engaged in revenge lust with the continent’s biggest royal lothario. That dalliance is precisely why HM King Juan-Carlos of Spain, father of Diana’s lovechild, was disinvited at the last minute to the royal wedding of HRH Prince Charles of Wales and Lady Diana Spencer. What was HM The Queen to do at that point, Charles & Diana were already set to be wedded and she, after all, had long abandoned Philip and been besotted and sired by Lord Porchester – and you can bet that she did not give a goddamn what anyone thought. As Charles ignored and carried on with Camila immediately after his wedding, Diana simply resumed relations with King Juan-Carlos and a pregnancy was expected so who would be any the wiser. Meanwhile, she knew damn well that as Queen, she could rip off Porchy’s clothes and mount him on the Buckingham Palace balcony at trooping the colour and not a single damn fool on the island realm would have seen any such thing. Period.

Royal Wedding, Duke & Duchess of York, 1986

Well, of course, Porchy’s boy, HM The Queen’s favoured lovechild was going to have a full 5-star wedding at Westminster Abbey. Another royal wedding, means more tourists after all and more merch income. Pretty soon, though, the fairy story started turning into an abundant flock of lambs for the Fleet Street abattoirs. Toe-sucking and pretty soon, Fergie was cast into the wilderness; not in direct line for the throne anyway, which afforded her to be diversionary scandal. Then faster than a sneeze, there was Diana making perfectly frigging goddamn clear that she was done playing along or playing nice. Never mind that before Penelope Knatchbull, there was HRH Princess Alexandra of Kent, yet HRH Prince Philip made it perfectly clear that he did not ever want to see Sarah, Duchess of York in the same room as him after her divorce. To that end, she was not invited to William and Catherine’s wedding and Meghan and Harry insisted that she be at their wedding; however, she was sat across the quire aisle from the rest of the royals. Incidentally, the Sussexes should not have been surprised at their placement at St. Paul’s Cathedral on June 03, 2022 as this was what HM The Queen decreed. Nonetheless, HM The Queen also made sure that Princess Blackamoor was placed close to the Waleses and Cambridges at St. Paul’s Cathedral on June 03, 2022.

James Hewitt & Diana, Princess of Wales

Diana started taking lovers. Naturally, to toss off Diana and begin her character assassination at the Fleet Street abattoirs, HM The Queen in a move to protect and avenge her honour, has the notion of HRH Prince Harry being Diana’s lovechild with James Hewitt floated. What a very convenient arsenal to draw on, as she was so intimate with this development two decades early with the lovechild with Porchy; simultaneously, it goes a long way to make the notion of Charles & Camilla more feasible in future, which like a turtle she has managed to live to see that PR rebranding of the adulterous Camilla the Ghislaine Maxwell-like groomer and Charles the Tampon prince. Naturally, James Hewitt was just another lamb proffered by HM The Queen and her syndicate, to protect Prince William’s true parentage and thereby get back at Diana for having fucked with not just Charles & Camilla but herself, HM The Queen, by fucking HM King Juan-Carlos of Spain. Of course, in due course as Charles was off loving Camilla and many male lovers, Diana, Princess of Wales wasted little time, taking lovers married or not as has always been the royal way.

After HM The Queen went out and had her lovechild with Lord Porchester, who turned into a real karmic tsunami, Philip for near five decades openly lived a life of passion and companionship with the very married Countess of Burma, Penelope Knatchbull. Just like Porchy’s lovechild, they do as they please and do not give a damn what the little islanders think. Of course, Philip lived to see the day that he was avenged for having been humiliated by a lovechild being in line to the throne ahead of his daughter, HRH Princess Anne, Princess Royal.

Of course, well before there was the very married Penelope Knatchbull, Countess of Burma, there was HRH Princess Alexandra of Kent, HM King George V’s granddaughter and daughter of HRH Prince George, Duke of Kent. Princess Alexandra’s numerology: 25/12/1936 Rat! 7.1.2 = 1. Philip’s affair with Princess Alexandra is what caused the rift in the sovereign’s marriage which resulted in HM The Queen’s affair with the Porchmeister and eventually their passion produced the rather barrel-hipped porchfest, Prince Andrew who exposed the lust and passion that produced him in the debauched affair that saw Jeffrey Epstein, Ghislaine Maxwell and Virginia Roberts-Giuffre being more than tangential bit players and infamous persons known the world over, one to whom they had to pay hush money. This is where it now gets interesting, after Andrew’s birth there was no going back and soon it was Penelope Knatchbull, the very married Countess of Burma with whom Prince Philip was passionately consumed. Penelope’s numerology is most interesting: 16.4.1953 Snake. 7.2.2 = 11. Both women are 7 energy bodied, you can’t get more amoral than that – they can also see dead people, auras et al. The more excitingly fascinating of the two royal mistresses of Prince Philip’s would hands down be Penelope; she has master number 11. These persons are inordinately charming and incredibly powerful and exceptionally gifted in the sexual arts. Moreover, Penelope is born in the year of the Snake; they can be monstrous, which is why Chinese traditionally avoided having babies in the year of the snake for fear that they would give birth to a female. For Princess Alexandra, a Rat, she was just in it for the adventure and with amoral 7 energy body, it was damn great sex and she was not going to not get her fix. Again, it is what the royals have always done.

Harry & Meghan Engagement Interview BBC

One of the most important things that HRH Prince Harry said in his engagement interview, occurred when he corrected BBC host, Mishal Husain by stating, “Or they think they know!” If HM The Queen wants the realm to know, it will be filtered via the abattoirs on Fleet Street. Everything else will be smoke and mirrors and the standard, “Never explain. Never complain” rules the day. Indeed, when you’ve much to hide, so say you.

Royals and their lovers indeed. HRH Princess Margaret, Countess Snowdon 21/8/1930 Horse 3.2.6 = 11

Margaret was possessed of master number 11; she did not give a living shit and said and did as she pleased. She was also innately talented and exceedingly charismatic. She had three lovers of note and only one of them did she share 2 numbers in common. This would have been her one true love, Peter Townsend (22/11/1914 Tiger 4.6.3 = 4). Peter, however, was divorced and his wife was still alive, which means that as the Governor of the Church of England, HM The Queen could not have sanctioned Margaret’s marriage to her true love and divorced spouse. With two numbers in common, it is very likely that there was a high degree of past-life connection between Margaret and Peter Townsend. He was shipped off to Belgium so that she could not have her star-crossed lover on the side. As karma would have it within ten years of Margaret being bitterly separated from Peter Townsend by his relocation to Belgium, Prince Philip was ploughing Princess Alexandra and before the decade was out, HM The Queen had her lovechild with Lord Prochester, HRH Prince Andrew, Duke of York and we know damn well how all that karma turned out, Epstein, Maxwell, Roberts-Giuffre. All the more reason why it was callous in the extreme to have dispatched Peter Townsend to Belgium. Margaret could have wedded whomever and kept Peter as lover, open or otherwise; this after all, is what both HM The Queen and Prince Philip did… it is what the royals have always done.

Margaret having been told to suck it up and get on with living, then settled for Antony Armstrong-Jones, 1st Earl Snowdon. It is hard to see what had these two walking down the aisle, unless Antony Armstrong-Jones (7/3/1930 Horse 7.1.5 = 4) was hung like a prized steed. Margaret and Antony did not a single number in common share; she had to have kids and if he loved being pegged by strap-on or cock, he would not have been the first royal male with same-sex proclivities. Finally, having had enough of playing at happily married, Margaret dispensed with her pegged hubby and cut to the chase. She took Roddy Llewellyn (9/10/1947 Pig 9.1.4 = 5) as her lover. She needed to be well-ploughed and often and when that is the order, no one fills the role better than a Pig. Pigs are loud, lusty, sexually obsessive souls who will happily fulfil themselves and partners as often as possible. Soused on drink and nicotine all Princess Margaret wanted was damn good sex and that is just what Roddy would have provided. Like the Earl Snowdon, Margaret and Roddy had no numbers in common. At 17 years Margaret’s junior, Roddy was merely a throbbing sex toy and knew his role.

Please, Switch to Elderflower; It Is Most Soothing…

Catherine Bullies William at James Bond Premier

Catherine has mastered the art of cussing behind clenched teeth whilst smiling that ever-present smile of hers. Her 9 energy body here is toxic in the extreme and that is why for most of the time, William’s face is warped into a pursed-lipped silence. William is a submissive; he is a bottom who loves being bullied by his wife and it is part of their psychosexual dynamic. Catherine is a dominatrix. Who again made whom cry?

Look at the Froideur Between Cambridges at No Time to Die Premier

Catherine peppered William with abuse common to dominatrixes whilst smiling and looking his way; just look at her exasperation at the 40 second mark. On arriving at the top of the stairs, Catherine looked across to William who had still not made it up. She cuts the eye at him and does not give a damn who the world over noticed.

Bottoms Up! Now we learn where best fake-toothed, bald, submissive Billy likes to wear his crown jewels! If that is not rich…. of course, it has always been there. You can even see it in the way Catherine triggers William in the clip of them out bike-riding and encountering an amateur photographer. Of course, William’s mum, Diana, Princess of Wales was 1 energy-bodied and that is the sign of the dominatrix/bully. I have also known four women along life’s journey and everyone of them had men whom they utterly controlled, emasculated and pussy-whipped their every breath. Heck, two of those women, with energy body of 9, loved using a strap-on on their lovers/partners.

#PrinceofPegging

Perhaps, indeed, he loves being pegged by James Middleton, Earl of Insolvency. Again, William’s fourth number is 5, it signifies male sexual fluidity, submissive behaviour, sexual excess, sexual scandal; furthermore, William is moving centred and all such persons are highly sex-focussed individuals. 5 represents excess – excessive submission. All this has happened throughout the history of the royal family; now, we live in an age where very little goes unnoticed.

Just look at William in both photographs on separate occasions; his lips are pursed and he is self-contained, emasculated and submissive. William is also jealous as hell but there isn’t a damn thing that he can do about it. A woman loves whom she loves and that’s that! Meanwhile, Catherine (9/1/1982 Rooster 9.1.3 = 4) does not waste time in telegraphing her heightened sexuality when focussed on Ben; she is all over and into Sir Ben Ainslie (5/2/1977 Dragon 5.7.4 = 7). This has been going on at least since 2014 and always, no one ever makes mention. In light of what we know about Prince Philip and HM The Queen, in this generation, we also do have a parallel dynamic. Catherine has made it perfectly clear, time and again, that William is a goddamn irritant. Not to be overlooked, is the fact that Dragons and Dogs do NOT get along; there is no way that William would ever feel comfortable around Ben and will be consumed with jealousy rather than not with regards Ben; Catherine intuitively knows this and plays it up even more. Make no mistake about it, there is more than flirting at play here. What’s poor Willy to do but go self-peg or cocksuck a couple of fags (British version or is that a pun?).

Catherine openly flirts with Ben and what does it say about their relationship when he adjusts her helmet; it is the most bold display of their intimacy. Of course, on the day of this Commonwealth invitational sailing event between Britain and New Zealand – Britain won – Catherine could not have bothered nor would she have dropped the sailing event, to attend Wembley Stadium with her husband, William, whilst the ladies England team squared off against Germany in the Ladies Euros 2022 finals, which they won. There was William alone and unattended by his wife, Catherine, who was in Plymouth openly flirting with her very intimate friend, Ben Ainslie.

Sir Ben Ainslie and Wife, Royal Box Wimbledon 2022

More important for Catherine was spending sportive quality time with Sir Ben. Well, of course, Sir Ben is married but so too is Penelope Knatchbull and Princess Alexandra wedded when they were the open lovers of Prince Philip’s, HM The Queen or no queen, to say nothing of the rest of humanity. But did anyone ever notice or write biographies and harp on as though the sky were imminently about to collapse?

Honestly, though they only have one match numerologically, there may be a strong past-life history between both Ben & Catherine or they may well be entity/cadre mates; either way, she is a warrior and all warrior souls whether male or female are very highly sexed persons, for whom there is never any shame in their game when they want to be sexually satisfied. Catherine is no different and she has the perfect partner. More sex workers and street walkers are warrior souls than any other role… so you know.

You definitely do not see Catherine ever looking this downright maudlin when in the company of Sir Ben Ainslie. “Lady sings the blues. She’s got it bad…” Sing it Billie Holiday. You wait, Billy, she’s gonna peg you good. Take a sip and breathe dears… exhale; isn’t Elderflower superb?

William is an insipid, foul-tempered man-child, who does find ready support in the court buffoon, whose wife is as equally dominant as is Catherine. He, too, likely does love being pegged. This could have been such smooth sailing; however, you just had to go tempting karma by being nasty little upfront racists towards Meghan, Duchess of Sussex. Now that she is gone, you’ve blown your cover… from Prince Damien to personal preference on how to wear the crown jewels, are truly unmasking.

It’s Okay, Take A Minute…
The Camera Never Lies!
Marquess & Marchioness of Cholmondeley, Earl & Countess of Rocksavage, Houghton Hall

If you going to reincarnate and work as a team on a life devoted to stewardship, this remarkably august pair would be as fine a blueprint as you could hope for. I don’t know if they are task companions or essence twins but what I do know, is that they are without doubt august mature souls with a strong past-life history. They do a remarkable job of not just maintaining an estate, Houghton Hall, they have handsomely adapted it to survive and thrive in modern times.

David 27/6/60 Rat 9.6.4 = 1 Marquess & Rose 15/3/84 Rat 6.9.4 = 1 Marchioness of Cholmondeley

All four of their numbers match; this is a bucolic reward incarnation for both and it has to do with a lifetime, which was chosen at the level of soul because they had richly earned/deserved it. As the 7th Marquess of Cholmondeley his 9 energy body is vastly different to Catherine’s. For one, he was born into the aristocracy and for another a woman with 9 energy body is vastly more acerbic, predatory than a male with 9 energy body; Catherine was also not of aristocratic birth, which only steeled her 9 energy body’s exoskeleton. Rose’s 6 energy body means that as also of aristocratic birth, she is all about being grounded, family-focussed and eschewing drama. This couple so get each other that it would not be surprising if they regularly finished each other’s sentences, experienced a strong degree of telepathy, most definitely communicate rather actively in dreams and when they are together can effect magical stillness when in a room. They are quite remarkable. Life is a business; they get it and run a business they do. As any good rat knows, life is about balance and duality. They indulge and when they play, they lose themselves.

Cambridges & Rocksavages

Much has been whispered at tea about this pairing of couples. Honey, I don’t read tea leaves. I am inclined to believe that Catherine wanted Rose frozen out, simply because Catherine is a warrior soul and all warrior souls are quick to do battle, anywhere, anytime, with whomsoever with enemies real or imagined, many of whom prove the latter. Catherine, as with Meghan, is easily threatened. In this case, Rose’s aristocratic birth would be reason enough to look to freeze her out.

The Rocksavages are mature souls and as Rats, they could give two frigs about trifling drama; they are far too sophisticated to get caught up in that. They are aristocratic; one does as one has always done. It is the spouse’s duty to accept and live with it or suffer the consequences. William’s fourth number of 5 means that as there has been smoke, and copious amounts, I might add, I say there most definitely is a raging fire… hey, blame it on climate change.

Fortnum & Mason Elderflower Tea

Wasn’t that sublime? It’s remarkably elegant and sensual. I find it also induces the most languorously lucid dreams. Always good to take the time for tea. Cheers. Speaking of dreams, I think the link to this dream almost 30 years ago, is a fitting metaphor for how the BRF, Fleet Street and the island realm dwellers relate to the Sussexes. Don’t, like the dog in this dream, be like the aforementioned: BRF, Fleet Street and island dwellers of the realm.

Go on, let them yap… soar higher still.
Buster at My Birthday Dinner

Saturday past, as it is a holiday weekend here, my spouse and I crated Buster and took him to my sister Pandora’s. There we had too much Moet, can you possibly ever have too much champagne, and had an early birthday dinner with luscious raspberry-covered cake ahead of my 62nd on Tuesday. 2/8/1960 Rat 2.1.8 = 11. Buster sat on the desk, looking out the window because since Pandora and hubby moved back to town from Ottawa, her two cats – mother and daughter – can’t seem to make heads or tail of him. Buster scurries about and now it’s gotten to the point of a hiss there, a hiss here. Either way, he calms himself by taking to the window and gazing up at the Aura condominium, which towers higher still than those across Bay Street.

Miles Davis Quintet, 1964 Live in Milan

Miles Davis – Trumpet

Wayne Shorter – Saxophone

Herbie Hancock – Piano

Ron Carter – Bass

Tony Williams – Drums

Ron Carter 4/5/1937 Ox 4.9.2 = 5

As this is the 65th anniversary of Ron Carter’s career as Jazz bassist extraordinaire, I thought this concert a fitting tribute. Jazz is the magical language of Black love and spirituality. From Emmett Till to George Floyd, honestly, how can you possibly expect us to suffer the repugnant affront of you, seeking to cancel Jazz, cancel Black culture by your grudging ubiquity? You will never do.

One of these days, Buster’s gonna catch a pigeon.

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

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©2013-2023 Arvin da Brgha. All Rights Reserved.

The Best-Laid Plans of 9s!

Thomas Markle Sr. 18.7.1944 Monkey 9.7.7 = 5

Plus ça change… Oopsie, can’t make it to the wedding. Look whatta want, I’m just a wuss and afraid of flying. Let’s pull a health scare.

Along come these two racially obsessed jackasses, fully convinced that they are right in treating Meghan, Duchess of Sussex as though she were a fugitive from Justice for which they intend to get the ransom. Oh wow, look at that, on the eve of travelling to be hosted by these two blasted cretins, big wussmeister pulls another health scare and goes and hides in his corner. Meanwhile, to save face, Lord George Nonesuch talks grandly of all the things that they had in store for wussmeister numero un on his arrival for HM The Queen’s platinum jubilee celebrations. Really, Lady Rotherqueer, like somehow you were going to get that blasted fat coward to be sat next to the Duke and Duchess of Sussex at St. Paul’s Cathedral.

St. Paul’s Cathedral, London England

Equally, Lord George of Nonesuch was blithering on, horrid acting and all, about all the places little Tommy fat-arsed was going to be wined, dined and entertained. One of the topmost ducal families… And so fucking what? And is that ducal host a grandson of Sovereign as well as son of the future Sovereign and brother of another future Sovereign? No, well see here ducky, who gives a fuck?

Thomas Markle Sr. on YouTube

Let’s make this perfectly clear, never in all your scheming, will you ever get either the Duke or Duchess of Sussex to meet with that man or have their children exposed to such an obviously compromised, sorry excuse for a man. Family my ass. As Tommy fat ass has illustrated, sooner or later we all shed skin and move on. Trust you me, two hundred years hence, when you and that pompous Jackass of trifling import, are long gone, historians will be callous with the truth.

HRH Princess Michael of Kent, Blackamoor brooch December, 2017

Contemporaneously, all the Sussexes detractors bleat on ad nauseam about Meghan, Duchess of Sussex having played the race card. None of these persons ever comment on the blackamoor brooch. In writing alleged royal biographies they dance around the issue and never mention it. Somehow, it is of no import. The reason for HRH Princess Michael of Kent having worn the blackamoor brooch is because her son, Lord Frederick Windsor, one of HRH Prince William, Duke of Cambridge’s closest familial bonds, is married to a British Jew who works in Hollywood as an actor. It is that connection to Jews in Hollywood that resulted in the blackamoor brooch having been worn to HM The Queen’s Christmas Lunch in 2017, weeks after Harry & Meghan officially announced their engagement and at which Meghan clearly was present. That was to let the American negro know that the Cambridges did not approve of the union and clearly had given their consent to attack the Black American fiancée of the Duke’s younger brother, HRH Prince Henry of Wales as princess flat-arsed, rhino stumps viciously masqueraded before the world’s media and those in Hollywood that she was doing as was directed.

TRH Prince & Princess Michael of Kent, Sophie Winkleman (Lady Frederick Windsor) & Lord Windsor

Always, connect the damn dots. So close are the Cambridges to the (Kents) Windsors that William elected to have his two children, HRH Prince George of Cambridge and HRH Princess Charlotte of Cambridge enrol at the same school in Battersea at Lord Frederick and his Jewish wife’s. That speaks to the racism in Hollywood – again, if 9-1-1 had no happened, Halley Berry would not have won a best actress Oscar in 2002, which has yet to be repeated – especially so when Viola Davis absurdly won best-supporting actress Oscar for Fences, a role which was a lead actress award-winning role on Broadway.

Duke & Duchess of Sussex, Archie & Lilibet (in utero)

Why indeed should Meghan have stuck around and been racially abused within the vipers nest of the royal households? Instead of addressing the blackamoor brooch and the obvious ongoing racially predatory harassment to which Meghan had clearly been subjected, before and after her marriage to Prince Harry, Tina Brown spends her time sourcing her throwaway biography, speaking to of all persons, Thomas Markle Sr. Why not interview HRH Princess Michael of Kent and ask what possessed her to have done such a racially hostile thing as choose to wear the blackamoor brooch and who exactly had put her up to it? That maudlin yenta, Angela Levin who can’t ever seem to keep her yap shut denigrating the Sussexes, has never seen fit to challenge the obvious racism to which Meghan was subjected. Lord only knows coming on strong, like Orly Taitz sans lipstick is herr Bower, skewering the schwarze without, quelle frig-all surprise, touching the blackamoor incident and the obvious racism to which Meghan was subjected within the royal households and the British tabloids before and most especially after her marriage to Prince Harry.

Ragtime Scott Joplin

Incidentally, the soul which was incarnate as Scott Joplin was recently incarnate and again Black American and was the musical genius, Prince.

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

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©2013-2023 Arvin da Brgha. All Rights Reserved.

To Hell With You!

Thomas Markle Sr. 18.7.1944 –

On Sunday, May 22, 2022, the Sussexes were featured all over Daily Mail because the Duke had played polo at the Santa Barbara Polo Club. Whipped into the usual hateful frenzy, there were more than eleven thousand comments filled with hatefulness, lies and ridicule.

Meghan, Duchess of Sussex interview with Oprah Winfrey

Two days later, it has emerged that Thomas Markle Sr. has suffered a massive stroke and these same hateful people are insisting that Meghan, Duchess of Sussex should go visit her father. Are you frigging kidding me? The articulate Duchess of Sussex made it eloquently clear to Oprah Winfrey, during their March 2021 interview, that she has lost her father. I cannot state enough that anyone possessed of master numbers of 11 (yours truly included) do not waver when they take a stand. Just think of Kim Kardashian, going after her sister and violently slapping her. Kim has master numbers of 11; she is the star of that show. One does not eff with master-numbered persons. Period.

Duke & Duchess of Sussex May 22, 2022

Somehow, Meghan was supposed to be emulating actor, Julia Roberts in the film, Pretty Woman simply for wearing an outfit that was similar to one worn by the character during the film. Has it occurred to these jackasses that there is no outfit that any woman could ever wear that would not be comparable to one previously worn by any other woman? There is no reason why the Duchess of Sussex should visit her father, who has suffered a life-altering stroke. If she were to, her vile detractors would say that it was all a PR stunt to try and look sympathy. If she does not, she would be said to be vile and heartless. To hell with Thomas and to hell with the 11k, who were ready to stone the duchess days earlier for attending the polo. Meghan owes neither Thomas nor them sweet bugger all.

Daddy my ass!

Time to take care of Daddy!” No dumbass, the time is long past for you to have taken care of your damn self. Stop being pissed on by that fetish-prone, perished kiwi fruit, Lady Rotherqueer herself, whose racial animus for the Black duchess will have him stop at nothing. Let him and his racist ilk fund Thomas Sr.’s recovery; god only knows, Thomas is better off to them alive than dead as they stop at nothing to racially prey on the most hunted fugitive from White racial justice in history, Meghan, Duchess of Sussex. Doria Ragland has her health because she has been a dignified and loyal parent to her daughter, Meghan, Duchess of Sussex. Thomas Markle Sr. will never meet his grandkids, Archie & Lilibet; he forfeited that privilege for betraying his own daughter. I might also add that he would never have behaved towards Meghan as he has, if her mother was also White. To hell with him.

Harry Archie Meghan & Lilibet

Go on, scoot. You’ve betrayed your own child. Your soul’s had enough of your embarrassing grandstanding… time’s up. Crawl the frig in your casket, there is no love for you!

Kiss and Say Goodbye!
Thomas Markle Sr. 1944 –

Then, again, just as at the time of the royal wedding in May 2018, this could be another staged health emergency by the clearly disturbed blackmailer and biggest petty conman ever. If the Duke & Duchess of Sussex were to meet with Thomas Markle Sr. whilst he is incapacitated, he would immediately turn around and run to the media, further vilifying them and making demands. Since he has dismissed a blood prince as an idiot, I don’t see how he can expect anyone from HM The Queen to Harry & Meghan to take him seriously or time-waste with his totally untrustworthy hide. He is a bitter scumbag and serves no discernible purpose in the lives of any member of the royal family, especially so the Duke & Duchess of Sussex. Most of all, his current health emergency is an obvious ruse to entrap the Sussexes; however, Thomas Sr. is the one who is stupid enough to believe the likes of Lady Rotherqueer’s transparent schemes, not either Sussex.

I Don’t Love You Anymore!

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

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©2013-2023 Arvin da Brgha. All Rights Reserved.

Oh Bugger Off!

Just look at this transparent campaign for hosting the Oscars in 2023… Every two nanoseconds, this snivelling weasel is gum-flapping about Will Smith. So good of you to criticise the Academy’s decision to have only meted out a decade-long ban on Will Smith and to not have taken away his best actor Oscar, 2022. Better yet, how about your green card be taken away? You do not stand a flying chance in hell of hosting the Oscars in 2023. That job goes to the very gracious and truly American – we know that Blacks don’t factor for you Britons – Chris Rock, who has conducted himself with the greatest tact and maturity, which is far more than can be said for yet another opinionated Briton with an alarmingly racist perception of Blacks. Does this little runt honestly believe that Whoopi Goldberg, who does have some clout in the Academy, is going to have Chris Rock passed over in favour of a mere foreigner whose isle of boars have proven themselves rabidly racist… Meghan & Harry, Duke & Duchess of Sussex and their vilification come to mind. Perfectly capturing the zeitgeist of the boorish White Briton, what does this snivelling little bigot do, as vilifying Meghan, Duchess of Sussex was so successful for them, he takes on not just Will Smith but attacks Jada Pinkett Smith for a health condition of hers, all whilst parading all the American awards this ungrateful race-baiting coward has collected along the way for being holier than though and merely for being White rather than not – as all Britons know, racism is America is good business for them. It has allowed them to sneak in on safari and clutch some prize game: Emmy, Oscar, SAG, TONY et al.

Listen to that vile sophist, who naturally is possessed of 9 in their numerological makeup and of course considers it perfectly okay to cast aspersions on Blacks… well, because one can. It/They are so fabulously, fantastically fake. Sat there in their poundland begot Castle Goring; how they must thank their stars that Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, the most reviled Black woman on the planet, has appeared on the timeline, affording their pretentious hide a new income stream as it/they peddle in racist hate, lies and innuendo. As if it were innuendo to state of ‘them’ madam Poundland themself, an obvious man. Then this cross-dressing, big-handed man has the gall to be inferring that Meghan is not really a woman but likely a hermaphrodite – you seriously cannot make this specious fare up. Naturally, the pregnancies were fake and there was clearly surrogates involved; furthermore, Meghan was a yacht girl, it/they boldly assert. Usually, to be a successful yacht girl, you have to be pussied and yet there is no evidence that Meghan was kicked to shore, for proving a hermaphrodite masquerading as a woman on the yacht circuit, as alleged by the racist boor it/themself on their money-scamming YouTube soapbox; however, go right ahead, spreading their innuendo and lies to your gaggle of racist boors as there is never a fabricated lie that isn’t soon become plain-as-irrefutable-fact truth. Just listen to the lies it/they speciously drool whilst carefully speaking so as to not have it/their teeth come unglued. That’s right, said the unpussied one themself, who managed to fool someone into marriage on the proviso that they wait until marriage to get at one’s pussy. Well that didn’t last long and since they still couldn’t breed naturally, trots off on its hind legs and acquires two boys and not girls…. no wonder they never talk about paedo Andy…

Time and again, they keep dripping with specious innuendo about Meghan, Duchess of Sussex based on their royal source. Key in all their posturing BS is the imperious royal. Not once does that Poundland Lady-My-Ass shyster ever utter, ‘British Royal Family’ because it/they no more know any BRF member than any Black person, whom they falsely claim to discuss Meghan with, has time to waste their spit on this hideous, racist opportunist. Her royal is yet another ancien royal who happens to be Russian. No matter how this Drag Race reject blab, it/they need to explain how possibly Meghan, Duchess of Sussex used the race card?

Let’s then review facts… The featured Rhino-legged hybrid wore the infamous blackamoor brooch to HM The Queen’s Christmas lunch in 2017 at Buckingham Palace. This brooch is as offensive to all Blacks, Meghan, Duchess of Sussex included, as much as if Meghan were Jewish and Madam Rhino-hooved had sported a swastika – this I ought to know for being also of Sephardic heritage. Meghan, claimed in the 2021 Oprah Interview, the appalling racism to which she and Harry, Duke of Sussex were subjected – that’s four years after The Queen’s 2017 Christmas lunch. The offensive brooch-wearer was not strapped into a wheelchair the past 40 years, drooling on herself without a frigging clue; rather, she spent much of the 80s 90s jetting to NYC during the jet-setting social seasons, which means that there is no way that the pompous minor royal could not have been conversant with the racist offense the blackamoor brooch would provoke.

If after the Oprah interview, pompous Fraulein Rhino wore said blackamoor brooch as a defiant fuck-you to the Sussexes for speciously alleging that the BRF were racist when they weren’t, then one could justifiably allege that Meghan used the race card. Deny racism all you want but rather elegantly enraged, Meghan, Duchess of Sussex was sat with Oprah and by merely eloquently stating fact, caused Commonwealth member states to begin the process of divesting themselves of the Crown. Of course, to send an immediate signal, Barbados bypassed a referendum and simply speed-tracked the process of becoming a republic and by year’s end, voilà, Bajans said, ‘Sorry, we have no time for this BS.’

Sarah Vaughan Midnight Sun

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

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©2013-2023 Arvin da Brgha. All Rights Reserved.

Why Catherine’s Got It Bad…

As Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge and HRH Prince William, Duke of Cambridge are task companions, this would be an especially challenging lifetime for her. You will encounter your task companion during the course of your reincarnational journey more often than any other soul. Your task companion is never the same soul type as you are, and you are always in the same entity, whereas your essence twin will never be in your entity, though the same soul type as yours, but in an entity within one’s cadre.

Catherine is a fifth mature warrior soul whilst William is a 6th mature scholar soul. Task companion are always close in soul age but the relationship is always a tense one simply because you are paired with a soul whose circuitry is vastly different to yours, thereby leading to lots of misunderstanding, impatience and trust issues. It is always a working relationship. In this incarnation, obviously it is a working relationship; they are to navigate a royal dynasty after having been massively eclipsed by HM The Queen, whose reign for being so long has done just that.. a very tough act to follow. For another, HM The Queen’s reign has seen massive damage done to the monarchy, thanks to the dramas of her family and even prior to her reign – as per HM King Edward VII’s infidelities. The infamous clip from BBC’s A Berry Royal Christmas in 2019, unmistakably validates that theirs a very caustic affair.

What is plainly obvious since her trip to Denmark, Catherine has had some expert minor plastic surgery that’s afforded a firmer more tight look that I call her Jubilee face; and there will be lots of extra smiling to do this platinum Jubilee year. First noticed on her Denmark trip, Catherine has developed an involuntary twitching at the right corner of her mouth and a compensatory lip-pursing has resulted. Further, her right eye which has always been smaller, darker and brooding, appeared unusually puffy with bags in the corner towards the bridge of the nose, especially so when she was in Denmark. Apart from the fact that the photograph above is ridiculously air-brushed, it does allude to the surgical tweaking that Catherine had recently undergone.

Both possessed of 9 in their numerology, TRH Duke & Duchess of Cambridge are not only self-toxic; they are also immensely self-toxic as a couple. 9 is the number of rejection – such persons reject others and in the process self, thereby rendering themselves toxic/self-toxic. Scholars are the most difficult souls to get along with, most especially when theirs is a chief feature of stubbornness, which William’s is. Fault-finding, difficult and never liking change; all scholars are notoriously prejudiced in perspective. They do not like change of any kind, the other, that which is different. Both William and Camilla, future Queen Consort are scholar souls; I rather suspect that the senior royal not named by Prince Harry, Duke of Sussex during the Oprah interview, is either one of these two scholar souls. Just look at the Cambridges row on the ride from Westminster Abbey and whilst on the balcony at Buckingham Palace on April 29, 2011, their wedding day.

I think it is further revelatory that Prince Harry declined to issue a statement when recently, HM The Queen declared her approval when stating that it was her wish that in due course, Camilla, HRH Duchess of Cornwall would be Queen Consort when HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales accedes. Notice, too, that now that HM The Queen has given her blessing to Camilla becoming Queen Consort, she is now photographed rather glowingly with photos tightly airbrushed. One other thing to note about Camilla, HRH Duchess of Cornwall, she is mid-cycle mature-souled – as for that matter is Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, though, Meghan is an artisan; artisan souls are more often than not vastly misunderstood and way more shrewd than the average customer. Diana, Princess of Wales was a second level mature artisan soul. The mid-cycle reincarnational level only ever occurs during the mature soul cycle and it takes on average a single lifetime, though, it is not uncommon for it to take two lifetimes. The mid-cycle mature soul age exclusively occurs between levels 3 & 4 of the mature soul cycle.

Though the British media and now world media have engaged in the most odious sexism, pitting women against each other, the obvious racism notwithstanding, what people do not realise is that despite Meghan, Duchess of Sussex obviously having it really bad, just as damagingly, so does Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge have it bad. She did not ask to become the great white hope in the hideously racialised pitting of her against her sister-in-law – whether or not they personally get along which is no one’s damn business but tabloid media’s. No matter, how Meghan is vilified, demonised objectified by the most specious, egregious click bait tabloid stories, just as equally unfavourably is Catherine unrealistically portrayed.

Apart from the fact that Catherine is archly self-toxic, one would be a damn fool to not realise that her elevation as the great white hope comes at a cost. As Catherine is said to be the perfect princess, the most elegant, poised, never putting a foot wrong and pure class, the fact remains that the world over, everyone has become blinded to Catherine’s pain, which is only to Catherine’s detriment. Just as Meghan claimed in the Oprah interview that she was in exquisite pain during Archie’s gestation, so, too, with Meghan’s vilification and banishment from royal life, Catherine has grown in exquisite pain.

Again, as Meghan said during her Oprah interview, there is a complete misalignment between what one sees of the royals and what the reality of whom they truly are. Further, there is complete misperception between the reality of the British royals and what the kingdom’s somnambulant bigots in their collective psychosis choose to perceive. The video above is yet another perfect example, by looking at the comments, it is obvious that people simply choose to see what they want to see. This video is a perfect example of how Catherine’s exquisite pain is perpetuated. She and her husband are scuffed at, ignored and rudely dismissed by HM The Queen, yet it is obvious from the comments that all these sycophants care to perceive is the elegance, class and truly regal comportment of Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge. The Queen literally snaps at HRH Prince William, Duke of Cambridge and dismisses them as milquetoast and positively none of the kingdom’s fawning subjects perceive the truth of the interactions.

HRH Prince William like every scholar soul with a chief feature of stubbornness does not fake his ennui for being saddled with Catherine, the perpetually gurning boor of whom he is so clearly, terribly bored. One gets the sense that William is long resolved, ‘as soon as granny goes, there will be an announcement in Parliament of our separation and inevitable divorce.’ Scholar souls are cold and ruthless like that; more assassins and guns for hire are scholar souls than not – as a rule, scholar souls don’t do emotions.

Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge St. Patrick’s Day 2022, Commonwealth Thanksgiving Service 2022 & Belize 2022.

If this were to eventualise, you can be assured of two things: the kingdom’s walking dead would not have seen it coming and, somehow, they will look to blame the marriage’s dissolution on Meghan, Duchess of Sussex. Of course, more painful than not separating and legally divorcing, is remaining married but emotionally divorced, of which there clearly are signs, a decade on from the Cambridges’ wedding.

In this rather revelatory clip, after HRH Princess Charlotte of Cambridge sticks the tongue at the fawning zombies, much as Prince Harry had done 3 decades earlier, look at Catherine in action. She is presented with the wooden spoon in the 2019 inaugural King’s Cup royal regatta and as all persons with energy body of 9 reject everyone, she nudges the spoon from the presenter’s grip and rids herself of him. Next, when the female sailor is invited to the stage by emcee Dan Snow to be awarded her bottle of Taittinger champagne, Catherine aggressively cuts her off and gets between the award-winner and her husband, HRH Prince William. This moves betrays Catherine’s warrior forthrightness; additionally, it betrays Catherine’s shrewd approach to managing her man and his roving eye and dick. Of course, during their closeness, at no point does William look remotely comfortable and he certainly does not physically acknowledge Catherine’s presence.

Last Autumn, at the world premier of yet another formulaic James Bond 007 film (yawn), the two senior most royal couples were in attendance. Once again, there was much reptilian hissing between the Cambridges; their lives are theatre and they have a very keen sense of stagecraft. THR Duke & Duchess of Cambridge arrive at the Royal Albert Hall and greet HRH Prince Charles and Camilla, HRH Duchess of Cornwall. Soon enough, the Cambridges start, or likely continue their rowing from the car ride in, hissing at each other and the hostess in black, sheer maxi soon takes off as she overhears their rowing. Catherine keeps looking at William, who looks down, keeps his distance from her and, of course, she is perpetually gurning. She is though never smiling, she is speaking through clenched teeth in that manner which she has skilfully mastered. As the 2 senior most royal couples mount the first flight of stairs outside the Royal Albert Hall, Charles followed by William went to their right and talked to the royal military personnel lining the stairs. Following suit, Catherine chatted with the personnel who flanked the left side of the stairs.

Meanwhile, Camilla simply made it to the top of the stairs and awaited them for the obligatory photo call. Finally, on arriving to join the senior royal couple, Catherine looked and noticed that William was nowhere on the stairs to join them; she cuts her eye at William and sighs wearily in a public display of the obvious froideur between them (35th to 45th seconds). To cover the awkward impasse, Catherine quickly begins chatting with Camilla, HRH Duchess of Cornwall at which point William finally comes and joins them. Though on the outside of both duchesses, William soon has Catherine get out of the way and go stand on the outside of him. Of course, it was the correct protocol; however, if there were no tensions between them, William would not have used the opportunity to rudely put Catherine in her place and have her move.

What I positively love about this video, is that there are freeze frames, close-ups and slow motion moments wherein you get the gist of what is truly taking place. You see as they walk the red carpet that not only does Catherine flash William an icy glance but she is clearly hissing at him as they row as per usual. As they are at the top of the stairs for the group photo with the senior royal couple, the Waleses, William is observed, looking at Catherine intently with pursed lips whilst she turns to him and as they walk away from the camera, turns her head away and towards William to better hiss at him.

Even when William came to stand next to her, Catherine brushed him off as though fixing the cape of her gown. Catherine then skilfully recovered to make it look as though she had not expected William to be there.

Currently, on Jubilee tour of the Caribbean, sporting her Jubilee face, Catherine had me eagerly waiting as she never disappoints come St. Patrick’s Day. For all warrior souls, without exception, clothing is uniform; it is integral to how they approach all life – they are going into battle. For a fifth mature warrior soul, St. Patrick’s Day, Trooping the Colour and Remembrance Ceremony at the Cenotaph are three times annually when Catherine can be expected to be a warrior soul in her element. All warrior souls whether male or female are always well turned out for every occasion. Sat amongst the Irish Guard, for Catherine at soul centre, this is a very fulfilling, spiritually grounding experience. What I found telling this year is that there were no photos of Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge downing a pint of Guinness with the troops. One sign of the strain in their relations has always been the hyper animation that Catherine exudes when they drink during a royal outing. William ever becomes clipped, starchy and as though horrified that at any second, she may prove embarrassing. Of course, a hearty drinker is a soul with serious issues to drown by drink.

Catherine’s mental health is fragile at best and unlike the Sussexes, she is trapped. She is held hostage by the racist boors of her island kingdom, who have rabidly made of her, the great white hope. Like every warrior soul, Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge is a fighter and the fact that she has a personal need of power and in perseverance mode, guarantee that by hook or by crook, she will survive. If William does not divorce her, either one of them as they are task companions, is quite capable of eliminating the other. All the signs are there and of course well after the fact, the obsequious biographers will opine at length at how they were ever aware of the strains of the Cambridges’ relationship. Naturally, to have covered up the rumbling fault line in the Cambridges’ marriage, the British tabloid media went to town on the American negro, blackamoor brooch and all – all the while protesting, claiming themselves very much not a racist society – in hopes that just somehow, the unthinkable could not be happening again.

Oh my god, can you just imagine if Meghan, Duchess of Sussex were to have walked ahead of her blood royal prince, as indeed she did many times, Prince Harry, Duke of Sussex? Mais voilà, there were no such comments of outrage at Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge breaking protocol. Could it also mean that Catherine was just fed up, being around HRH Prince William, Duke of Cambridge and thought to escape his toxicity; scholar souls can be rather ennuyant, truth be told. It seems from the second photo of their royal tour of Belize in celebration of HM The Queen’s platinum jubilee that Catherine is seething/hissing, yet again, as she walks ahead of William and he tries to stay her temper by placing his hand on her back. They certainly don’t seem to be in a good place. All that aside, Catherine – warrior to the core – sartorially excels in the elegant, sapphire blue lace Jenny Packham, which handsomely sets off her engagement ring, formerly owned by her mother-in-law, Diana, Princess of Wales.

Prince Harry, indeed, was quite right to break the cycle and take wife, Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, son Archie, plus guy and Pula and clear the hell out of that out-of-control car (famille Windsor) from speeding headlong into the tunnel of the cursed island’s pantomime. Sorry, said Meghan, but I am not about singing the blues. Catherine’s got it bad and don’t nobody sees her pain…

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

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©2013-2023 Arvin da Brgha. All Rights Reserved.

Indeed, What of Edward & Sohpie?

Yes, indeed, as she is Sovereign and could not care less about optics, why did HM The Queen favour Edward & Sophie rather than the toxic twosome, TRH Duke & Duchess of Cambridge? Let’s compare their numerology to other royals.

HRH Prince Edward Earl of Wessex

10/3/1964 Dragon 1.4.6 = 11

Edward’s got master numbers. Like Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, Edward is possessed of master numbers 11. Such persons do not for a nanosecond tolerate anything that goes against their spirit. They simply walk. Meghan, collected Prince Harry and moved continents rather than be in line of fire of the very toxic (9) Cambridges and I might add, as it now appears, the future Queen Consort, Camilla, HRH Duchess of Cornwall. Edward, of course, did not complete his military trainer; he simply put his foot down and walked away – it was not for him and he was not doing it. That’s what master numbers of 11 persons do… as I am quite intimately aware, moi – 2.8.1960 Rat 2.1.8 = 11.

Sophie, HRH Countess of Wessex.

20.1.1965 Dragon 2.3.6 = 11

Well, will you look at that! If there is a couple who are coasting through royal life, unaffected by major stress, it would be this couple. Both Edward & Sophie have master numbers of 11. The rest of their numbers are also rather simpatico. She would have made a great actor or artist; they perfectly understand each other, get along quite harmoniously and have a really good laugh at everyone and everything without being malicious. Just look at the way the Wessexes laugh with HM The Queen as she has just rudely dismissed TRH Duke & Duchess of Cambridge. I might also add that I do not know the Michael Overleaves for either the Earl or Countess of Wessex.

They know all the secrets but know to keep their damn mouths shut; this would be reason enough why HM The Queen favoured them in the preceding video clip whilst telling off and dismissing the Cambridges and their kiss-ass disingenuousness.

Lord Ivar Mountbatten

9.3.1963 Rabbit 9.3.4 = 7

This weekend I looked at all 3 episodes of “Keeping Up With The Aristocrats” and rightly called it – two persons definitely possessed of 9 in their numerology, Lord Ivar Mountbatten and Princess Olga Romanoff. Not surprising that Ivar would be close friends with Prince Edward and his wife. Both men for one are gap-toothed, which means that in their immediate past life would have been Black. For another, their numerology are rather simpatico and they share the same extended family. Clearly, in their immediate past life, both Edward and Ivar were great friends, comrades, family – you always seek out the ones with whom you enjoyed great relations.

Ivar and his dignified husband, James Coyle

So wonderful when any two souls find each other in this vast universe; and what a beautiful union theirs is. Keenly observant of their inter-dynamics, I remarked to my equally keen numerologist sister, Isha, that without doubt both Ivar and Princess Olga are possessed of 9 in their numerology. As with Princess Olga, though being socially aggressive, Ivar will do that high-brow laugh that is nine parts playful border collie, biting at the ears of other dogs simply because it can, simply because that is a distinction of aristocratic classism. With Olga, it is more bilious and, of course, she is friends with that vile, arriviste Colin Campbell themself.

Princess Olga Andreevna Romanoff

8.4.1950 Tiger 8.3.9 = 2

What I love about this photograph of Princess Olga, is how deftly it betrays her unenviable dilemma – quite simply, she is burdened by the baggage of her heritage. Hey, all is choice; she chose to be reborn into that milieu. True to her energy body of 8, she has swanned through life rather arrogantly, expecting to be spirited off by a wealthy, and possibly titled, suitor. Ha! I loved episode 3 of “Keeping Up With The Aristocrats” where Olga is set up with the Guggenheim, visiting from the Carolinas. Olga is guarded, aloof and engages that utterly disdainfully snobbish toff laughter. You just know that she doesn’t give a damn; he is not only not man enough but he is also Jewish, which you can bet does not tick off any box of hers – she does have a lifepath of 9. She would no more marry him than she would an eligible Black prince from Africa. That 9 means that from birth, Olga has been groomed or at least her lifelong been focussed on being a blasted snob – and just look where it has not gotten her. 9s are self-toxic and Olga is no exception. Hers is not an enviable hand, indeed. She also keeps company with that third-tier arriviste snob Colin Campbell.

Olga and Colin.

Colin Campbell

7.8.1949 Ox 8.7.3 = 9

Naturally Colin and Olga would find favour in each other, both are lugubriously hanging on to some semblance of royalty that is tenuous at best. Naturally, their 9 is what fuels this pitiable myopia; this, of course, would make them the most virulent snobs going. Certainly, to put it charitably, they are entertainment of a sort. Only persons possessed of 9 would pass a life, being so obsessed with time-wasting pursuits.

Alexandra Sitwell

24.3.1958 Dog 6.9.5 = 2

Yes, she has got a 9 but it is in the easily disguised second position – that of the mind. Alexandra’s 9 is mooted by an energy body of 6 – compassionate and loyal and 2 in the fourth position which leaves her remarkably creative and gracious. All about gracious living and no appetite for drama. She does not have to be a snobbish boor when she is possessed of inordinate charm and grace. I would really love to have included here the masterful portrait by Nicky Phillips of the Sitwell women: Alexandra, Penelope, her nonagenarian mum and daughter, Rosie.

Emma Thynn, Marchioness of Bath

26.3.1986 Tiger 8.2.8 = 9

Here is another masterful Nicky Phillips portrait this one of another English aristocrat. Emma, too, has a 9 in her numerological makeup; however, with two 8s, she would not be singing the blues, like Princess Olga and Lord & Lady Gerald Fitzalan-Howard of “Keeping Up With The Aristocrats,” when it comes to running a successful home. Emma is one very tough, enterprising capable customer; there is no way that she was not born to rule and Longleat House is not exactly a dump.

Lord & Lady Gerald (Emma) Fitzalan Howard

As neither’s birth stats are readily available on the Internet, I would rather not make assumptions. That aside, they are an endearing couple of humans and Emma’s Kim Kardashian remark is reason enough to favour her. With more than a passing resemblance to Merlin, I am willing to bet that Lord Gerald is a late-mature to possibly early old-souled scholar. Most definitely, he is your older soul scholar; vibrationally, the resemblance to Merlin is rather uncanny especially as he wore a Panama hat – it would be truly jarring for me if he wore a Panama hat and errantly dragged on a marijuana joint, the resemblance is that strong.

Just off the tail-end of Black History Month, most of which I spent listening to Jazz 24/7 at full blast whilst daily doing a BHM tribute on my Insta-thingy, I had intended to add some Jazz to this post and I do believe that going forward, I shall do same for all posts. Why? Because Jazz does not have its frigging roots in Klezmer! This some damn fool had the frig-all temerity to declare several years back on JazzFM and boy did I get fuck-all vituperative when calling the station and screaming how dare they insult Black culture… as well I would. For another, gosh but I love being Black and it is amazing to me that when Jazz is 24/7 being played in my home that some Jazz recording has never been featured in each blog. Of course, when this blog began, it was all about dreams and mostly dreams of Merlin after his passing, which will have been 33 years ago this November; the blog has evolved as it has but last January, I dreamt of Merlin so I shall explore that dream in coming blogs… Be well, be swell and I trust that these dreams of mine have immensely enriched your journey…

https://www.instagram.com/arvin_da_brgha/

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

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©2013-2023 Arvin da Brgha. All Rights Reserved.

Truth Callously Reigns!

Truth, like the Sovereign, HM The Queen, ever callously reigns supreme. HM The Queen does not give a damn what it looks like. She is Sovereign. William and his wife are vile damn fools and they have seriously pissed her off and clearly HM The Queen neither gladly suffers fools nor is given to being disingenuous. Look at the interactions in 2020, at a time when HM The Queen was made fully aware, the extent of the Cambridges’ vindictive, sadistic, racially predatory behaviour towards the Sussexes. Look at them leaning in, feigning obsequiousness and ageist condescension. HM The Queen is not to be played the fool. The Bourbon dolt leans in and HM The Queen gives him a good saucy tongue-lashing, whereupon the praying mantis, who likely regurgitated (that goiter-like neck suggests as much) does her bit of ageist condescension whilst bowing and scraping. Seeing that HM The Queen has no time for his BS, William takes off and soon after, the mousy, über-gurning, chain-smoker exits stage left… as well she should… scatter y’r rass! HM The Queen having had no time for the Cambridges, instead focussed on and smiled at the Wessexes to the Cambridges’ rear.

Catherine and her task companion, William, appeared at least 150 years off the mark on the Timeline. Their psyche is possessed of the same perspective as royals back then. They are from the late 18th to early 19th century and belong nowhere else; yet here and now, thrive they do. As captured here, there is something cold, vicious, calculating, pernicious and downright shit-disturbing about her; all of which is betrayed by her energy body of 9.

No matter how her royal household sycophants, lisp, scheme and get good ole sporty Kate all dolled up, making her look for all intents an androgynous crossdresser, like she has charisma, or lack thereof, Catherine though can best be described as saturnine. Certainly, she is devoid charm, style, elegance and sheer megawattage star power that was Diana, Princess of Wales’s birthright. Cold, leathal, calculating, vengeful and a right piece of work.

The video at the start of this blog, like the clip from the BBC’s A Berry Royal Christmas, illustrate what a frightful, mind-control state the yank-hating commoners of the United Kingdom possess. Their opinions are formed, largely by the tabloid media, which of course does the bidding of various royal households. Obviously, the royal household with the greatest vested interest in shaping public opinion is the Cambridges’ royal household centred at Kensington Palace; they are the future of the modern monarchy in the 21st century.

As HM The Queen’s Platinum Jubilee is upon us, during which time she may well expire, Catherine has had to get fully camera ready. These past eleven years of grinning like a semi-feral hyena has taken its toll. I was genuinely concerned on her recent solo trip to Denmark. Catherine was frail, unsure and not her usual self. There were times from her mannerisms that she appeared mentally fragile, even exhausted. What was really telling was her fingers and mouth experienced minor involuntary seizures. With regards the latter, I think it is because she has obviously had some minor though needed plastic surgery – noting wrong with that, too.

In this photograph, Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge has been so finely tweaked that she looks almost passingly like Queen Letizia of Spain. Fine lines are gone. Most telling of all from that February 23, 2022 visit in Denmark, Catherine’s right eye, which has always been a dark affair, was fuller and there is a puffy bag in the inner corner of the eye, suggesting that the swelling there has yet to fully subside. Either way, she looked as good as one can expect a mature warrior soul to look. Her coat dresses are always spot on; clothing is battle-ready uniform for all warrior souls, male or female and in that regard, Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge is no exception.

During that trip, Catherine seemed too tightly wound, she looked almost fragile as though on the cusp of collapse from the mental strain she endures for being future Queen Consort. Just because the racist commoners of the United Kingdom obsessively hate Meghan, Duchess of Sussex that does not mean that, somehow, Catherine is immune to the strain and stress of being ‘trapped’ in a role with which she is not especially happy. We have seen examples of this strain in the Cambridges’ marriage time and again.

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

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©2013-2023 Arvin da Brgha. All Rights Reserved.

Pink Chair I & II

Within days of George’s 44th birthday on February 9th, 1990, I had been to his McCaul Street loft, which looked east to the buildings lining University Avenue. There, on the top floor’s tiny balcony, we would retreat for some privacy, late at night and suck each other off with his son spying on us… ever he spied on us and it became a definite source of one of our many volatile breakups that George wanted to watch whilst his son and I fucked. I am not about doing anything that I find repugnant. George’s son’s legs are ridiculously bizarre; the space between the knees and ankles inordinately short – he also has too much gum for my liking. Did not matter to me that he was very thick and big; I was not playing. End of discussion. In any event, that winter, after George and I had riotously fucked with his son’s conspicuous silence in the open loft definitely indicating that we were being spied on, I fell asleep whilst George, thoroughly, noisily ploughed right, went to shit and shower, which was always alone and a very lengthy affair. On exiting the bath, as I soundly slept, awaiting my turn to shower, George grabbed his polaroid and took several snaps of me in his sole pink armchair as I remained sheathed in a used full and droopy condom.

By the time that George would present me with the iconic, masterful serigraph, he and I were not then on speaking terms on conclusion of the work. Months earlier, in November 1989, Merlin had passed and as George made it perfectly clear that he did not want to be in a committed relationship, I walked away. He was, of course, pissed but I was not getting the support I felt that I then needed. Truth be told, the relationship with George was ideal, I could no more have given two fucks about his friends anymore than they did me. George was totally controlling – energy body of 9 – and in that way, I was his muse and a great fuck; this left both his family and friends off limit – of course, there was obsession with his son, which meant me fulfilling his fantasy. Not happening. So as I did not play along and began taking lovers of my own, as George wanted to celebrate my life in the event that I, soon after Merlin, perished of AIDS – at that point, I still had not gone out and taken an HIV test; I was simply then too solipsistic to have been any support to Merlin who was then slowly dying of AIDS. So not able to bring himself to name the serigraph after me, it became Pink Chair; of course, for his friends, it was a great dig at me whom they thought of dismissible and an utter non-entity. Of course, I never said more than two words to anyone at that point in my life – that is, if I did not think you worth my time why bother saying fuck all?

For the next three years, George and I saw each other on and off. During that time, I was rapidly self-exploring. Of course, at the core of it all, there was the one ritual that grounded me, each day as I went to bed, I closed my eyes and smiled, knowing that on awaking, I would recall a plethora of dream experiences which before sleep, I could not readily have fathomed. Each morning I woke up, grabbed the tape recorder and began audiocassette recording my dreams. For this reason, as it had been a promise made to Merlin, I had no desire to be in a living relationship. No, I do not want to meet your fucking family, most definitely do not want to be caught dead, wasting a nanosecond of my time, listening to your loser friends and their redundantly specious regurgitated anecdotes – been there… fuck that. With Merlin’s passing, I had found a new groove: go to a few bathhouses, fuck a couple or a couple dozen hungry bottoms, head home by bike and listen to either classical or Jazz and get on with reading, writing and looking forward to travelling to the next art exhibition or Jazz concert and, of course, collecting art.

At one point, George moved out of his McCaul Street loft and with his possessive son remaining at the loft, this opened the way for us to get back together. This, of course, was not without its angst. One evening, I was hellbent on ploughing George to the hounds but he kept on begging off and finally blew up at me and told me to fuck off and, perhaps, he wanted to fuck his brains out with someone else. Are you fucking kidding me? No need to sit about when possessed of that irrational cocktail of obsession, passion, lust and mistrust. With regards his sexual activity, George always lied… I knew this. The first time that he had lied, I noticed the tell-tale sign – his right index finger and middle finger would involuntarily quiver and he would always try to cover it by rubbing his right index against his right nostril. Whenever this occurred, he would always get up and walk away to try and better cover up the physiological quirk. As ever, nothing escaped my eagle-eyed perception.

That night, unable to sleep and more importantly being robbed of valuable dreamtime, I got up and hopped on my bike in the middle of a bitching winter’s dead of night. George, who then lived at 62 Austin Terrace, had me pedal like mad in the biting cold and after locking my bike down the hill, made it up to 62 Austin Terrace, which stood right at the northeast corner of Bathurst Street and Austin Terrace. Truly possessed, I hopped onto the mountain ash tree and began scaling the damn tree as though at 0300 on a cold winter’s night with a street lamp nicely illuminating things, my being a black male, climbing a leaf-bare tree in the Annex, was a perfectly natural thing to be doing, among other illogical considerations. The lights were on in the bedroom; alas, he was not being ploughed by someone who was not me. Of course, George always spoke in his sleep and in one of his little pernicious moves, days earlier as I ploughed him good, he let out someone else’s name whilst pretending to be more asleep and or drunk than he was. Of course, seven years of being the lover of an award-winning director, Merlin, I knew fucking bad acting toute de suite.

There were clothes on the bed that were not George’s but he could not be seen. Undaunted, I scaled and scraped my way down the tree with simian ease, passion-possessed and made it up Bathurst to the rear of the property where I scaled the slippery stone side of the hill and made it atop the garage where for walking across packed, crunching inches of snow, found George being plough on the large draught table in his study. I was beyond livid but wanted and gotten definite proof to slap down his lying when confronted. His response was, of course, feigned indignation at my having had the temerity to spy on him. As with all passionate lovers, that entangled, drama-rife bit of Sargasso was soon traversed to calmer seas. Months later, we got in from dinner, sat down for a drink at his Austin Terrace apartment and laughed and savoured our cognac, after having been out shopping in the early afternoon to choose a new frame for Pink Chair. As ever, George wanting to be plough long and hard, listened to Haydn’s Paris Symphonies – ever, I favoured the London Symphonies. I had just returned to Toronto after amour fou absolu had attempted to steal a dozen pieces from my art collection, among which was Pink Chair.

By March, 1993, I was hanging out in Washington D.C. with Bahamian relations when for walking out on my host, would meet Yuri, the most thoroughly consuming S&M bottom. This, of course, was at a time where all I did was crawl bathhouses partout, ever on the prowl, as finally I had discovered my metier with Merlin’s passing. S&M was the right groove at the right time in my life. So as I crawled predatorily the halls of yet another bathhouse, this one on the edge of a military base in the U. S. capital, I was hotly pursued by Yuri as my swagger and riding boots were just what and more his wildest dreams were in search of. We fucked for several hours, he professed his love and we returned to his place just southwest of Dupont Circle in Foggy Bottom that was the epitome of house proud faggot and way too minimalist for my liking. Alas, we went to his bedroom, which had a bed that was custom-built and made to service his every S&M whim. We were insatiable and it was just right. I looked past his drinking and excessive use of poppers, which second hand ever left me with a splitting headache, he had an actual freezer in which he kept handled bottles of vodka and the salacious bottom with the thick Russian accent was all mine.

Soon he took me to dinner, presented me a ring and demanded that I move to America and his position as lawyer in a queer law firm would allow me to live without the worry of working and the ideal Daddy to come home to. A city full of museums, he had season tickets to Kennedy Center and just a short flight to New York City for more culture and art, it was not very hard to say yes. Soon we went looking at places as I came down every other weekend from Toronto; we dined out and did all the things he had not before. On the off weekend, he had to himself with friends and family, which I made it perfectly clear were a non-negotiable in our relationship.

No sooner than having brought down choice pieces of art and much of my wardrobe as we chatted daily three to five times, I was returned that Sunday evening to no calls or calls going unanswered. Finally, that Thursday evening, he coolly answered the phone and wanted to know what I was bothering him for as, said he, he thought that he had made it clear that it was over between us. Perhaps, I was in denial but now he was with Tyrone who had a big 11.5 inch cock that he just couldn’t get enough of. Putting my master numbers to good use, I morphed and pulled out personalities 33, 47 and 56, all the while not so much as appearing remotely upset. Soon, he was answering the phone whilst being ploughed by Tyrone. Alas, my diamond cutter charm wore him down; we did after all have concerts to attend at Kennedy Center. So fool him, he accepted as Tyrone was going home to Philly for his mama’s 50th birthday – as if I could give two point five fucks.

Returned to Washington, I charmed him though he was wary and mistrustful – his guilt not mine. Finally, he gave in and we had one last S&M session. Tied up, he stood upright in the leather bedding with black bath sheets everywhere to catch his piss as I ploughed his arse, exposed by the thick leather chaps, rough, long and hard. I then slipped beneath the bed and got out the duct tape purchased earlier at Heckenger’s across town – everyone in the neighbourhood knew him and I had no intentions of anyone tipping him off. The hood zipped tight, revealing only his eyes and mouth, I smeared half a dozen strips of the black tape across his lizard-lipped cocksucker mouth and left just enough room for him to comfortably breathe.

As the opera fag neighbours below were in that evening, I turned up the music – Maria Callas CDs on the Denon stereo system – really loudly and pulled his big-boned body from the black leather sheets and hauled him by the harness through the 2100 square foot duplex apartment to the living room, took the strap to him as well he loved it; however, this was not about him, left him slumped and seated on the floor and quietly and meticulously cut my fucking art from the god fugly gaudy gold frames, into which the fucking racist moron had placed my stolen art, 12 pieces in all, including Pink Chair. Having returned my art into the tubes, in which they had months earlier been brought down from Toronto, I called my ride and with lots of time to spare its arrival, I hauled the blasted fool – who to that point had royally pissed off at least half my known 72 personalities, to his large bathroom, where clad in leather from head to toe, I heaved his bulky body – his legs and hands bound as he loved it during play, over the side of the tub, ripped out his butt plug, squatted down, violently ripped off the duct tape, replaced it with my gauntlet sheathed left hand whilst riotously fucking him hard. Hissing into his right ear, still hammering away at his ravaged mangina, ‘you fucking thief… what does that make you. That’s right, you’re a fucking nigger and don’t you ever forget it.’ Slamming the bathroom door shut behind me, my head ached from all the poppers he did. Coolly, I went to the freezer and got the handled bottles of vodka there, where else but America, and slowly undid his suit so that his welted body beneath could really sting from the vodka’s cold, unforgiving bite, after shoving his whimpering body into the tub. When I was done emptying all his vodka on his shivering, enraged body, I straddled his wet body below in the tub and whilst standing on the edge pissed and relieved my bladder which since removing my stolen art from his walls had been straining for release.

From there, I hightailed it to New York City and stayed a few days at Valerie Pringle’s only brother’s West 16th Street walk-up where I grounded anew by going to all my favourite museums by day and crawling the village in riding boots, making further conquests, which usually began whilst gyrating and face-fucking on the tiny dance floor down the mirrored winding stairs at the historic Stonewall Inn. Returned to Toronto with my art, over dinner at a tiny Spanish restaurant off Yonge Street, after we had taken Pink Chair to be framed, raising a glass of red, I winked at George and said of the vanquished amour fou, the best way to piss on a fool’s grave, is to do so before they actually are dead and buried. Dinner was beautiful and with that, we returned to his apartment at 62 Austin Terrace and George was no end of happy, reaching back and holding on to my riding boots, his arse high in the air, as I ploughed and staked my claim to his heart centre as never before.

‘What the fuck are you calling me for?’ On my return to Toronto, I lethally hissed down the phone at the racist boor in Washington D. C.. ‘We have no business together. Obviously, all you can handle, is nothing more than 11 IQ points. Let’s make this perfectly fucking goddamn clear, since your HIV status – that’s right, I have known all along, precludes you making it across the border, you will stay the fuck where you are and get over it. You’re a fucking thief.’ He then violently demanded that I return ‘his’ art and be man enough to bring it back. ‘What the fuck has AIDS and poppers done to your fucking pea brain? Bitch are you fucking nuts? You are dead to me. Shit, I already pissed on you… you are as good as fucking dead! Cutting him off as he launched into his foul, drunken nigger this, nigger that, I boomed down the phone into his gutted soul, ‘Hang it up! Hang it the blasted motherfuck up! Now! Go on, hang up your fucking phone now. You fucking drunken diseased rat. Now! Hang it the blasted motherfuck up now! Hang it up! Finally, the line dropped, collapsing his weak sobbing. A bottom to the core, he never dare dialled my number again.

Also, at 62 Austin Terrace, I announced to George that I had accepted a job offer in Vancouver and would be leaving in mere days. George was devastated as he felt that he was being abandoned for not having been fully engaged in a committed relationship. In the end, not long after I was happily ensconced in Vancouver’s West End, that George visited. We had some of our best sex deep into the musky wholesomeness within the woods of Stanley Park, lorded over by centuries old Sitkas. There in the dead of night, George buried his left cheek in the mud, held on to my riding boots as ever he loved to as I ploughed and took us both to beyond the edge of ecstasy. George’s first visit to Vancouver – there was a second, was passed going to galleries, having an early dinner, likely on Davie Street, going home for a nap before getting up late at night to go do that most primal of deeds, fucking surrounded by the sublime beauty of nature.

On the eve of Bob Marley’s birthday – a very brightly, crisply cold Friday in 1999, my wife and I emerged in full African garb onto Saint Laurent from Montréal’s palais de justice accompanied by George and my sister, Pandora, both serving as witnesses. That evening at our lovely Cote des Neiges home, the four of us were joined by a lovely Jewish boy from Hampstead. George and I were reunited after too long on the cusp of his 53rd birthday and among other things, we warmly celebrated his upcoming birthday. The evening was beautiful. Five years later, my wife and I relocated back to Toronto as both our fathers experienced health crises. My first visit to George’s Borden Street penthouse was beautiful, the view looked north to one of my favourite high-rises in the city; it is a deco affair at the northwest corner of Spadina & Richmond Street West. I am always reminded of Merlin and New York City where we met and how much he loved the architecture of 1930s New York City. Paris, my wife, and Pandora were invited to dinner in the late afternoon.

George seldom hung art about his homes, and rarely any of his; there was one however which moved me the moment I walked into the room. Who is it, I asked, to which George laughed and said, ‘it’s you, of course. It’s the companion to Pink Chair… it is Pink Chair. Back in 1987 when we first met, George had asked me to sit at his loft on Brock Avenue in the Queen West Queen neighbourhood. As a result of our carnal passion, George experienced a new creative drive; he became more creatively focussed and produced more. George’s attack was dazzling and he created with feverish speed. He was always grateful for that time, he was not yet 41 when we met and for him, it proved the mid-life crisis he needed. It was great, too, because Russell, a lover of his, had slowly been dying of AIDS and I became the anchor that kept him focussed here and now.

I was invigorated by this second Pink Chair, which had been completed in 1992 but which he had never shown me. Finally, George and I met separate of my wife, Paris, who has since transitioned and become Denver, for dinner at his Borden Street penthouse condo. Even though I had become a portly little cock-bottomed, short-breathed eccentric with age, I still wanted to return to being George’s muse and, of course, lover. As ever, we dined on another exquisitely prepared meal, which featured a George staple – asparagus and another sublime sauce with the right accompanying wine. At this dinner, however, George began opening up and told me of a murder at University of Toronto where he taught printmaking; it was a murder, George shared, for which he was a major suspect. For the next couple of hours, I watched George come undone as he talked of how unrelenting the authorities were in surveilling him. At one point, as he slumped in the chair across the table from me, George sprang back to life and said that he wanted to apologise; said George, all the years of hearing me speak of the insidiousness of racism and the effects it had on one’s wellbeing, he had dismissed and for that he wanted to apologise.

George trembled at times and he seemed to age before my eyes. Keenly, I kept a raptor’s gaze fixed on his every move. Never once throughout that dinner did I fail to look out for George’s right index and middle fingers’ movements; they never once quivered. George shared that he was terrified of sleeping because he constantly suffered nightmares of losing everything with his being pinned with the murder, going to and dying in jail. George said that he constantly felt as though his every action was being monitored, analysed to discern whether he was the murderer or not. Getting up, I went and knelt at his side at the dining room table and held him, hugged him. I let him know that I was there for him. Slumping forward, George hugged me and dissolved in tears, we both cried. I cried because I realised that there was no way that George could ever be passionate again; there could be no sleepovers – he talked constantly during sleep.

George and I never met at his condo again. Walking away that evening, I was struck by how neutered and consumed with fear George had become. At one point during dinner, with his back turned whilst cooking dinner, one of my notoriously loud sneezes exploded. Though George had heard that loud explosion countless times before, he responded as though a high speed train had unexpectedly zoomed past. George and I seldom spoke by phone and rarely emailed after that dinner. As a matter of fact, apart from meeting twice to catch a movie, we only saw each other whenever I turned up at Dr. Tsang’s. It was one of these visits – whenever I went to the doctor’s, George happened to have been there, George shared that he had cancer. I was stunned. Over time, George’s stomach became more distended, his look more wounded and what pained me most, was how much he remained as if possessed, thanks to having been a major suspect in the murder of a colleague.

After dinner, as I made to leave and we hugged long and hard, we then looked at Pink Chair, another of his masterpieces, George kissed me and said that whatever happened, it was mine; George wanted the piece to eventually become mine but for now, he was holding on to it because it reminded him of the passion we shared and how intensely I had inspired him to create and drove him, drove each other mad with the passion we shared. Getting down to Borden, I was so immensely drained at George’s despair that I walked with bike a block south to Adelaide, hailed a cab, securely tucked the bike in the trunk and silently wept on the ride home. I got in, lit beeswax candles everywhere, listened to Haydn’s Paris Symphonies, then had an extra hot soak in the tub with rose petals and Epsom salt, smudged my home afterwards with sagebrush, crawled into the pyramid, gathered crystals and upped my frequency whilst collapsing through the labiate folds of sleep’s sweet, welcome embrace. George died a dozen years after my return to living in Toronto from Montréal, and all attempts to acquire Pink Chair have proven unsuccessful. A lover scorned… indeed.

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

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©2013-2023 Arvin da Brgha. All Rights Reserved.