Knowing when to leave is key to perfect timing. Elizabeth was a mean, grasping, manipulative – it is the hallmark of slave souls – vindictive operator. It is good that she has finally taken leave. Elizabeth acted as though the crown was hers to wear for at least a millennium.
Just look at HRH Prince Richard, Duke of Gloucester incredulously peer across at HM King Charles III with his beefy equerry sat directly behind him in the royal box; of course, there was no room for the Earl and Countess of Wessex as a result. There was sat the Duke of Gloucester who with a look telegraphed, “Well, will you look at that! He’s got his lover right here in the royal box for the world to see. What must cousin Lilibet, looking down from above, be thinking? Major Jonathan Thompson is not even in uniform but crossdressing in civilian suit. Just look at him, a mere senior footman standing in the royal box and clapping away as though he were a royal spouse… Also, pay keen attention to the Duchess of Gloucester as she keenly eyes Catherine, HRH Princess of Wales. That look betrays the tectonic state of the Waleses’ marriage. One would think that the Duchess of Gloucester is eyeing up Catherine as she cannot believe the woman would have the nerve to sit there after openly flirting with Sir Ben Ainslie and telegraphing to all the world that they are fucking their brains out.
Indeed! Though the Fleet Street abattoirs are ill-inclined to betray the ugly truths of House of Windsor, rest assured that the American media, especially American tabloid media, could not care less. Of course, they have a vested interested in the Windsor dynasty as a second American woman has recently wedded and been met with undiluted hatred and rejection. Although, that rejection is decidedly racist, nonetheless, all Americans are Americans and will defend another over any foreigner, especially so when America fought and won a war to depose that very dynasty.
Darlings I’ve simply got to start ordering teas by the hamper… The Second Carolean era just keeps on giving…
This actor did a phenomenal job of bringing forth the true fire that was HRH Princess Margaret, Countess Snowdon’s. God, it was delicious theatre, watching her rip into her mean-spirited sister and giving it to her good when she called her on the fact that Elizabeth deliberately interfered in her life and caused her pain and ruin whilst never having done any such thing to her slutty daughter, Anne. As the Crown depicted and passingly implied, Princess Anne could have fucked Tim Lawrence in the open on a farm and no one would have noticed or reported it in the media. Her performance brings to mind that every actor who ever portrays HRH Princess Margaret must study Elizabeth Taylor in the Mike Nichols classic, “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” This is why in the earlier season of the Crown, the actor Helena Bonham Carter’s casting was wrong. She was stiff and hadn’t the passion or fire to convincingly project Margaret’s rage
The actor who played Queen Mary was perfectly placed. The scene was brief and a flashback that was of major import. Look at her, there she is dripping in pearls and finery as the Romanovs did. She gave the order for their murder and all because she waned the Romanov jewellery, coming to her. A truly vile character. Her inclusion beautifully sets up next season, which deals with Diana’s murder and this scene of Mary giving the order to have the Romanov’s murder, so she could get their jewels, establishes that no one should think otherwise when it comes to next season, Season 6, and Diana’s murder.
The producers and creative geniuses of The Crown Season 5 did their homework and boy did they execute masterfully, beautifully. This entire episode sets up what’s to come in Season 6, Diana, Princess of Wales’s death. By laying the groundwork and showing that because HM Queen Mary’s callous avariciousness, the Romanovs would be slaughtered just so that Queen Mary, who considered the Tsarina a rival, could get her hands on the Russian royals’ jewels. Queen Mary was a vile, ruthless Victorian misogynist who, of course, was Queen Elizabeth’s chief mentor. There can be no doubt that the late Queen Elizabeth viewed Diana, Princess of Wales as much a rival as Queen Mary viewed the Tsarina. For that, like Alexandra, the Tsarina, Diana had to be murdered for proving herself a damn threat. She ruined the fairy story by not playing along; most of all, she threatened the institution by preparing to start a rival dynasty with Mohamed Al-Fayed’s son, Dodi, a non-White Muslim.
Goodness me, whatever shall the little people think? Who damn well cares what they think? The royals do as they have always done!
Here, again, the casting of Netflix’s The Crown, season 5, is flawless. Nuanced and perfectly measured, both actors bring forth the appropriate amount of repugnant arrogance and conceited lack of awareness. Perfectly timed, as though murdered Diana’s revenge, Season 5 lays bare the adulterers’ vulgarity just as they accede the throne. King Charles III, the Tampax King with his two teddies – one inanimate from childhood, the other a virile, kilted, furry teddy that throbs and makes nights at Highgrove especially pleasurable whilst the failed future King Mother and Courtesan Queen languishes away at Ray Mill; one thing is plainly obvious, the Courtesan Queen does not crochet doilies at Ray Mill.
Having nicely set up the case for Diana, Princess of Wales having been murdered in the upcoming season 6 of the Crown, one other thing ought to be taken into account. In 1918, when Queen Elizabeth’s mentor, Queen Mary gave the order to have the Romanovs murdered, that would be signified by the planet Uranus – one dynasty overthrows or eliminates another. Uranus rules violent upheaval, revolutionary action and usually from one institution against another. As Diana, Princess of Wales was a most disruptive rebel, the only course of action left Queen Mary’s devout mentor, Queen Elizabeth II, was to eliminate the threat of Diana. Diana was about to marry a non-White Muslim and start a rival dynasty, which would have utterly eclipsed the Windsors not just at the Fleet Street abattoirs but world media.
Diana and Dodi died at Diana’s natal Pluto’s transit forming a square; that coupled with her fourth numerological signature of 7, meant very public and totally unexpected assassination. A Uranus return takes roughly 84 years, Queen Elizabeth reacted 79 years later as Queen Mary had to the threat of a rival dynasty, the Romanovs relocating to the United Kingdom – there is a five year window on either side for that Uranus return’s effect to be initialised. Closer to the exacting 84 years and Diana and Dodi would have had a wedding and begun a family that would simply have eclipsed Charles and Diana’s wedding as clearly Diana would finally have found true love. There is positively no way that the well-groomed Victorian misogynist, Queen Elizabeth II, would have tolerated any such affront to her dynasty, especially when Diana would have avenged herself by bearing step-siblings of the future supreme governor of the Church of England to a Muslim. The Windsor dynasty was violently preventing the eventualisation of a rival dynasty begun by Diana, Princess of Wales and one of an opposing faith.
Imelda Staunton as Queen Elizabeth II was sublime casting. She is pitch perfect and gets every nuanced idiosyncrasy right. As Elizabeth II is a mature slave soul, a sage soul in passion mode with emotional centring would be disastrous. Imelda may well be a slave soul herself.
Though a departure from season 5, I do feel that there needs be some commentary on the actors who played the major roles across the five seasons. Claire Foy was a major reason for the Crown’s initial success and gave The Crown the legs to become the seminal British royal family drama that it has become. She is diffident, economical and sublime. The complete opposite can be said for Olivia Colman, who is Olivia in every role she plays. She is crass, common and as conspicuously frightful and self-conscious as a damn ostrich.
As Princess Margaret’s casting is concerned, Vanessa Kirby was ravishing to look at; she had depth, emotional rawness when required and was utterly captivating to watch. Hers was a brilliant performance. Helena Bonham Carter was simply a toft playing a toft and Princess Margaret was never a toft; she was royal to the core. Clearly, Lesley Manville captures the essence of Margaret’s inner rage. Helena was supposed to have captured Margaret’s passion, debauchery and her creative brilliance and that never materialised.
As there is only one Diana, there is only one actor who has singularly, successfully captured the essence of Diana, Princess of Wales and not until Elizabeth Debicki in Season 5 of The Crown has this been achieved. Spot on, this actor’s portrayal is note perfect and as close to channelling Diana, as it were, as you can possibly hope for. Singularly focussed, she gives an award-worthy performance of rare brilliance.
Just look at this artist step aside and allow the very essence of discarnate Diana, Princess of Wales to move in and prosecute her case. This is a most brilliant performance, in a season teeming with stellar performances. There has never been a more successfully cast group of actors for any one season of this fantastic series.
I’ve a little Diana, Princess of Wales anecdote. The night of the preceding photograph in October, 1991, I was across King Street West at Simcoe Street at Roy Thomson Hall for an Emmanuel Ax recital. As I had seasons tickets to the Toronto Symphony Orchestra, I managed with plans for a hook up after the concert to attend. God only knows, I could never abide Emmanuel Ax’s too-short arms and legs as he bobs around the stool, trying to make keys and pedals. I have only ever had two favourite pianists whom I have seen live, Vladimir Horowitz and the scholarly high priest himself, Alfred Brendel (his Michael Overleaves will conclude this blog). Of course, for having met and loved Merlin, Glenn Gould has become a favourite, forming the perfect troika of inspiring classical pianists.
When the recital concluded, I made my way north along Simcoe Street to King Street West where I planned to go in search of some stimulating companionship. The placed was packed and I hadn’t a clue what was up. Finally, someone said that Princess Diana was at the Royal Alexandra Theatre, which was going to be letting out soon. Making my way west along the south side of King Street West, I stood opposite the theatre’s entrance and realised that it was no place to be. Gingerly, I made my way west along the street, made it across the intersection and began doubling back due east along the north side of King Street West. Charmingly, I bobbed and dodged my way until I was second row deep behind a diminutive Filipina, who stood behind he barricade in front of which was a conga line of persons in wheelchairs. Obviously, as this was the early 90s, cell phones were as yet ubiquitous and why I would have a camera for going to the symphony would be a gauche notion at the time. The sturdy-looking limousine pulled up and to my left, though I could not see, the doors to the theatre opened and impresario Ed Mirvish emerged with the world’s most photographed woman.
Never had I witnessed such a massive explosion of klieg fabulousness as that moment as Diana, Princess of Wales stepped away from her hosts and stepped into the marquee lights. She was tall, commanding and arrestingly beautiful. Eventually, when she made her way down the roster of wheelchair fans, she reached from time to time to the sheer pandemonium of squeals, cries, shrieks and outstretched trembling arms baring frantic trembling fingers. As nothing she said could be heard, I managed to clasp her hand, said “we love you more” as she worked the crowd like a pro. What struck me about her in that moment as the flashbulbs went off, like a million stars simultaneously going nova, was how steely, masculine, tall and warrior-like she was. In that moment, her striking blue eyes so focussed and direct, she with her statuesque singleness of devotion, was like a Maasai warrior aloft whilst dancing. Then my darlings, Diana, Princess of Wales, did the most phenomenal thing that left me teary eyed, she got to the limousine and as the passenger side rear door was opened, she got inside elongating her neck, whilst bracing her body on the car’s frame when swinging her knees together, feet together, pushing off from the metatarsals and swinging are rangy legs into the car in one of the most sublime port de bras witnessed. Well, you better believe that I was hooked to the core. Of course, to that point, she was merely the ultimate self-absorbed famous person whose motto seemed to be, “I’m a rich White girl, take my picture.”
Of course, four years later, Diana, Princess of Wales, now separated from the future, HM King Charles III, made it perfectly clear that she was in control and not the crazy wingnut that she and every artisan at some point or another will be dismissed as by the masses. Diana, Princess of Wales’s interview with Martin Bashir aired on the BBC on Guy Fawkes Night, November 5, 1995. That move will see her transcend history as someone who was infinitely more shrewd and astute than the mere mortals of her age were aware. Unlike Oliver Cromwell, Diana, Princess of Wales successfully prosecuted her case to the kingdom, the world and most importantly, history. Naturally, like Cromwell, her interview and the subsequent relationship with the Muslim Al-Fayed family would be deemed treasonous by the Victorian misogynist, Queen Elizabeth II, who just as ruthlessly and casually had her assassinated as her mentor Queen Mary had Tsarina Alexandra and her family a Uranus return earlier.
Mou Mou, the most gloriously well-written and acted episode of The Crown. At every turn, the actor who portrayed Mohamed Al-Fayed left me teary-eyed or smiling by his brilliant performance. He effortlessly captured every idiosyncrasy of the Mohamed we have come to know in the media. The actor deftly captured the essence of this endearing mensch with bravura and sublime impishness. It was the only episode that I immediately had to re-watch to both fall in love and get all the nuances that the teary fog of me had missed. Of course, there were many beautiful scenes but one which was rather telling is of The Queen sending her emissaries to have items of the Duke of Windsor’s removed from his French chateau. This shows the Victorian misogynist mentoring of Queen Elizabeth by Queen Mary – ever grasping and coveting all manner of material things. No care in the world for the Duke & Duchess of Windsor whilst he was living but the moment he passes, they are keen on the Duchess’s invitation to swoop in and claw at whatever they fancied… crass.
Indeed, in time, how could anyone possibly have expected HM The Queen, to have related to the Duke & Duchess of Sussex otherwise. She was groomed by the monstrous Victorian misogynist, HM Queen Mary to be shrewdly calculating, murderous if necessary, defender of the saturnal aspects of what being Sovereign entails. She and the rest of he senior royals could have behaved no differently to the Sussexes. Most of all, The Queen did not care to countenance any talk of racism being in any way associated with the House of Windsor. Just suck it up and get on with it, despite, the hideous open racial harassment from HRH Princess Michael of Kent, sporting the blackamoor brooch. Trust me, if she were to emboldened to go public with the racially predatory lynching of Meghan, you can bet that there was unrelenting, unfathomable racism within the royal family and the institution towards the Sussexes.
Could there have been a better cast member for this season, 5, of The Crown. This actor performed his role immaculately to the letter. The fluidity and communion of spirits between him and Mohamed Al-Fayed was successfully captured by both actors’ nuanced and elegant performances, even when Mohamed was being inelegant.
This actor, though similar in look, did not capture the essence of whom Penelope Knatchbull, Countess Mountbatten of Burma is. Above all else, with a energy body of 7, the late Prince Philip’s lover at her very core is a courtesan and would not only damn well do as she pleases but not give a damn who noticed. With a first number of 7, Penelope is almost mannish in her domineering energy body and would prove vastly intimidating for the late Queen Elizabeth II, who already had a secondary chief feature of self-deprecation which means that she would have serious self-esteem issues. Energy body of 7 and born in the year of the snake, the late Queen Elizabeth II was no match for this woman.
The role would have been better served if the actor, Gillian Anderson, who capably showed her mettle were to have been cast as Penelope. Ms. Anderson ensouled the very essence of the persona of Baroness Thatcher. A snake female, Penelope, with an energy body of 7, is the kind of customer who would take a riding crop and beat to death a mere mortal and get away with it; she would also not ever once think about the incident thereafter. All snake women possessed of an energy body of 7 are true courtesans; they are supremely amoral. Gillian would have the right steely comportment to deftly portrait the real Penelope, which may have positively nothing to do with the persona the public sees; and isn’t this almost always the case for famous persons?
Well, hold on tightly duckies, there is lots more to come. Season 6 of the Crown promises Diana’s murder. More than that, it should have flashbacks to the marriage of the Duke & Duchess of York as in penultimate seasons 7 & 8, the fallout of paedophilia allegations for associating with Jeffrey Epstein will see his cancer-stricken mother come undone. Of course, HM The Queen died aged 96; more importantly, she died 25 years after Diana, Princess of Wales’s murder. It takes 24 years for a grand Solar cycle to unfold and all self-karma, created when a karmic debt is initiated as in Diana’s murder, leads to the debtor’s self-immolation. Philip and Elizabeth slowly immolated as the avenging of Diana’s murder took its toll, Philip at exactly 24 years and Elizabeth II a year later. There are no coincidences and Time reveals all truth.
There can be no mistaking the fact that the structural racism, the case for which was made by HRH Princess Michael of Kent’s blackamoor brooch incident and Prince Harry’s memoir SPARE, nicely serve as ample source material for seasons 7 & 8. By then, all the tea with regards Catherine and Ben Ainslie, William’s Tampax moment, which has left him #PrinceofPegging to say nothing of Charles and his teddies one 70 plus years old and other other a virile furry equerry. Let’s also not forget Rose and her come-back pussy, which resulted in the then Cambridges being banished to Adelaide Cottage from Anmer Hall. Also, Camilla’s obvious racism should be highlighted by her need for a parapluie when touring the amongst the ‘darkies’ so that she doesn’t have to shake their hands, which explains why she did not go to the night time declaration of statehood in Barbados and her recent touching a Black girl’s sleeve rather than hold her hand. Then, too, there is the banishment and exodus of the Sussexes to America to successfully escape the hideous spitefulness of the next generation Waleses.
Brendel, Alfred 5/1/1931 Czech Republic
Michael: This fragment is a first level old scholar – second life thereat. Alfred is in the perseverance mode with a goal of dominance. A pragmatist, he is in the moving part of intellectual centre.
Body type is Lunar/Mars /Mercury.
Alfred’s primary chief feature is self-deprecation and the secondary stubbornness.
The fragment Alfred is fourth-cast in first cadence, he is a member of greater cadence two. Alfred’s entity is two, cadre five, greater cadre 6, pod 208.
Alfred’s essence twin is a scholar and his warrior task companion is known to him.
Alfred’s three primary needs are: exchange, communion and security.
There are 6 past-life associations with Arvin and 4 with Merlin.
As ever, Life is like a flying dream; if you look down, you’re fucked. Enjoy the ride and fear no one!
For 70 years Queen Elizabeth II has ruled with an iron fist and bullied her family’s every generation. The only persons not so bullied are the third generation after her. She bullied her sister, simply because women are programmed to bully, mistrust and go to war against each other. Most of all, Elizabeth now gratefully departed, can no longer be feared and the truth of who she has always been: insecure, vengeful, manipulative, can, with callous candour, be discussed.
HRH Princess Margaret, Countess Snowdon was infinitely more talented and beautiful than her. In the second Elizabethan age women fared miserably once in the orbit of this insecure, compromised Queen. Every woman who came within her orbit at the Court of St. James, was rapaciously preyed on and rendered spent… ravaged… spayed. Margaret was more talented and more beautiful and why should be able to take her lover, Captain Peter Townsend? For openly, intimately touching Captain Townsend at HM The Queen’s coronation, ‘her,’ coronation was enough to cause the young Queen Elizabeth II to canter and overrun Margaret until she was captured and fully spayed. Margaret would never be allowed to have her true love after that. She was left to live a life of debauchery and very slow immolation of spirit, thanks to a mere woman having offended Queen Elizabeth II, the Victorian misogynist.
Elizabeth’s stubbornness was forged by a domineering mother, HM Queen Elizabeth, Queen Mother and paternal grandmother, HM Queen Mary, Queen Consort, who was even more intransigent in her steely, stubbornness. Queen Elizabeth II was brought up, nurtured by a mother who had been groomed by Queen Mary, whose psyche was that of the 19th century European royalty, who saw themselves god-anointed to rule over the world’s inferior, unsightly masses. Elizabeth was groomed by Queen Mary, who died less than three months before Queen Elizabeth II’s coronation on June 2, 1953.
More than anything, after the disaster of King Edward VIII’s abdication, all that mattered to both HM Queen Mary, Queen Consort and HM Queen Elizabeth, Queen Consort was that HM King George VI’s heir was groomed to be as unwaveringly conservative as possible. HM King George VI was a weak man whom his mother and wife readily manipulated. The cannibalising monster that HM Queen Elizabeth II became was forged in the manipulations and 19th century perspectives of HM Queen Mary, Queen Consort and HM Queen Elizabeth, Queen Consort.
Exotic and glamorous, Wallis apart from being a divorcée was also an American. Unlike aristocratic English families from the colonial eras, the Windsors did not to have this American marry in when they were wealthiest of all in the land. However, a threat she most certainly was. Groomed was HRH Princess Elizabeth of York to loathe Wallis and she was keenly instructed in the way Wallis had to be treated if the Royals were to retain their exclusivity and air of thorough Britishness, sensitive as they already were of their German heritage. Both HM Queen Mary, King Mother and Elizabeth, HRH Duchess of York deeply resented Wallis Simpson and saw her as nothing more than a loose woman, who could never be Queen Consort. That is why on becoming HM Queen Elizabeth, Queen Consort, both Queens saw to it that Wallis and Edward VIII were banished from the kingdom; they used the compromised HM King George VI to send Wallis and her shadow off to Bahamas as Governor. Of course, as they were permanently banned, long after HM Queen Mary, King Mother died in 1953, HM Queen Elizabeth Queen Mother and Queen Elizabeth II saw to it that Edward VIII and Wallis stayed ostracised, slowly withering away in France To the very end, Edward VIII (1972) & Wallis (1986) remained ever spayed and neutered by the Victorian misogynists: HM Queen Mary, Queen Consort, HM Queen Elizabeth Queen Mother and Queen Elizabeth II.
Of course, it does go without saying that intergenerational troika, this Victorian hydra sat atop the slithering head of the original misogynist, HM Queen Victoria. She was too consumed with empire and ruling, subjugating the heathen peoples of the Dark Continent and beyond, enslaved or otherwise. She really had little time to plot and scheme as her descendant troika whose intergenerational bond cemented the Victorian misogynist ethos, which became perfectly and skilfully realised in Queen Elizabeth II. HM Queen Victoria had no connections to HM Queen Elizabeth, Queen Mother and Queen Elizabeth II but they were ably groomed by HM Queen Mary, King Mother who, of course, knew and had far better relations with HM Queen Victoria than HM Queen Alexandra, Queen Consort of HM King Edward VII.
HM Queen Alexandra had little time or use for HM Queen Victoria. She would have found Queen Victoria maudlin and to be avoided at all costs. With an energy body of 1, HM Queen Alexandra had more than enough to handle with the Prince of Wales, her husband, the future HM King Edward VII. Too, it was a cultural divide that could never be bridged. For her part, Alexandra knew to stay clear of HM Queen Victoria as she would have found her mother-in-law’s energy body of 6 a energy sap. To that end, she busied herself with horses, which HM Victoria protested – all the more reason to ride to the hounds, her burgeoning brood and a husband who was a womanising handful. HM Queen Mary like HM Queen Victoria was a Rabbit and thus would have avoided Queen Alexandra as much as the latter avoided Queen Victoria. To that end, Queen Mary found favour in Queen Victoria and toadied up and morphed into Victoria’s favoured. Where she did not have good relations with Mary, she was comforted in her senior years of having Mary’s constancy and doting to count on. Mary modelled herself on Queen Victoria and therein were rooted the Victorian misogynist.
Of course, with King Edward VII’s womanising, came Alice Keppel whose more successful courtesan descendant would cannibalise her competition, Diana, Princess of Wales, to eventually be crowned HM Camilla, Queen Consort. HM Queen Mary wanted to purge the monarchy of the licentiousness that had flowered for almost a decade after HM Queen Victoria’s death. If anyone was capable of righting the moral compass of the Victoria Age, it was HM Queen Mary, Queen Consort. The 15 years left to HM Queen Alexandra, King Mother’s life were passed being shunned and eclipsed by HM Queen Mary knew her to have been disfavoured by HM Queen Victoria. Also, HM Queen Mary, Queen Consort had not time for HM Queen Alexandra, King Mother as the latter was physically incapacity as a result of one of her pregnancies and this HM Queen Mary born in the year of the Rabbit would have shunned and found decidedly unroyal.
Though HM Queen Mary may well have been no reanimation of Queen Victoria’s persona, she certainly modelled herself after Victoria in her bid to remove all semblance of the libertine decade brought on by HM King Edward VII’s reign. HM Queen Elizabeth, Queen Consort was thoroughly groomed by Queen Mary and as such, HM Queen Elizabeth II was groomed by both her mum and paternal grandmother.
Though this may be the start of the second Carolean age, it still is chiefly the continuation of the Second Victorian Age, begun by HM Queen Mary, Queen Consort, through her devotees, HM Queen Elizabeth, Queen Consort, through Queen Elizabeth II and her son HM King Charles III, who in turn had been well-groomed by HM Queen Elizabeth, Queen Mother.
There certainly are perks to being king. From the beefy equerry to the convenient living arrangements.
Talk about Diana’s revenge. Why share a home with that when you have got the finest cut in the land? It is, indeed, good to be King.
Having thoroughly dispensed with HM Queen Alexandra King Mother, HM Queen Mary King Mother, HM Queen Elizabeth Queen Mother and Queen Elizabeth II for almost the next century would rule the second Victorian age with just about every woman who joined or were on the periphery of the Court of St. James, fast becoming yet another spayed Windsor wife. HM Queen Alexandra, Wallis, Duchess of Windsor, HRH Princess Margaret, Countess Snowdon in true Victorian fashion, denied having her true love close at hand with Captain Peter Townsend shipped off to Belgium. Diana, Princess of Wales would not conform; she was expected to be the corseted ideal conformist Princess of Wales of the second Victorian age. She couldn’t… she wouldn’t and it came at a price to her. Thus she was literally cannibalised by the Victorian misogynists embodied by HM Queen Elizabeth Queen Mother and her daughter, much favoured by HM Queen Mary, Queen Elizabeth II.
Diana, Princess of Wales, of course, was disruptive. The role she played in the second Victorian age, was to be the deluge which would so disrupt the status quo that she would end up breaking the dam and unleash the flooding tide of the Age of Aquarius as we move violently away from the Age of Capricorn, which the United Kingdom more embodied than any other nation. Diana, Princess of Wales was the very antithesis of the second Victorian age woman; Queen Mary would never have approved. She was too headstrong, too much indeed, like HM Queen Alexandra, King Mother.
For that troika of Victorian misogynists, HM Queen Mary, King Mother, HM Queen Elizabeth, Queen Mother and Queen Elizabeth II, Diana, Princess of Wales was easily preyed on. She was not a starchy Capricornian icon; she was filled with wanderlust, adventure, compassion and possessed of that most bizarre quality for the Victorian misogynist, idealism. The EIIR was ruthlessly pragmatic and a consummate realist. She did not care nor give a damn about the little people; however, she knew history and she knew that she had to have them eating out of the palms of her hand rather than telling them to go eat cake. With that hat, bag, shoes, brooch, gloves and the right beguiling smile, her persona was in place and out the doors she went to keep the little people in their place, fawningly obedient and worshipful. Modern, easy, breezy, Aquarian Icon, Diana, Princess of Wales was a threat of the highest order to the cossetted, fixity of the Second Victorian Age ruled over by the Capricornian misogynist that troika of Queens who ruled over weak, compromised men and strong women whom they readily hunted, preyed and destroyed if they so much as betrayed signs of modernity, openness and change.
They knew Camilla Shand was a mistress and though she had been with child, she was therefore readily malleable, easily controlled and used as they saw fit. You give up the lovechild and in time, if you keep your damn yap shut, you will be handsomely provided for. Well, can you imagine the old camera-scorned’s luck, Diana, Princess of Wales conveniently meets a violent end and voilà before you can wipe arse, there is she, sans doily mind you, being fawned over, though, the slithering Carolean rat keeps her locked away at Ray Mill. How’s that for revenge; certainly not for Diana, Princess of Wales. Truthfully for Diana, Princess of Wales’ supporters focussed here and now, it is divine justice that HM Camilla Queen Consort never gets her lover in the end. This is a life expired and put to rest, about which Diana, Princess of Wales’ soul could care less.
Just look at this woman in action; how she managed not to have been devoured by HM Queen Elizabeth II and the men in suits (courtiers) is a testament of her power over them with the seismic secret and power she levelled over their heads. Just imagine if Meghan, Duchess of Sussex were to have behaved like that when touring a commonwealth nation and openly ridiculed its culture?
If that were not bad enough, after having flown from London, HM King Charles III and HM Camilla, Queen Consort were met by dignitaries at Edinburgh airport. HM King Charles III deplaned first, followed seconds later by Camilla. HM King Charles III spent little time interacting with Scottish First Minister, Nicola Sturgeon, who when she tried engaging Camilla overlong, the Queen Consort simply abandoned the welcoming party and took to sit in the Rolls Royce where she remained for over a minutes, whilst Charles continued greeting the dignitaries. It was a rude affair and on taking to the car, HM King Charles III simply walked past Camilla, sat and exchanged words with her. Never mind Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, Catherine, HRH Princess of Wales would never in a million years have done that, regardless how much she hisses at HRH Prince William, Prince of Wales in public.
Born a blood princess, HRH Princess Anne, Princess Royal naturally escapes all hyper-scrutiny and is never tossed to the Fleet Street abattoirs. I would not be surprised if this woman were not a warrior soul. The monarchy is at the apex of a military complex. Anne as a Tiger woman, like her late mother Queen Elizabeth II is squarely focussed in her duty to the crown, which is supported and protected by the military in its every manifestation. She is solid and all about defending the flame.
The evolution of Catherine has been unique and thus most interesting to observe. I never thought that she should have ever worn her hair down, which she did at the start of her duties as a senior royal, to all three military occasions on the calendar: St. Patrick’s Day and distributing shamrocks and the photo call with the Irish Guards, trooping the colour and Remembrance’s Parade at the Cenotaph in White Hall. On becoming mother, and future King Mother, Catherine’s style changed dramatically and thereafter, it was always hair gathered up at those three important rites in the military calendar.
What Catherine, HRH Princess of Wales should never ever once have done, was given ammunition to her detractors, who are a real power faction, the courtiers. Her open intimacy with Ben Ainslie, her open perpetual rowing with HRH Prince William, Prince of Wales, her husband, have been serious misjudgements on her part. Should the day ever dawn that William, regrettably, decides he has had enough and asks for a divorce, the most aggressive attack on Catherine will come from courtiers. No matter what, the Sovereign is to whom the courtiers are in service and the thousands of royal householders and courtiers will viciously commence a feeding frenzy on Catherine; being broadsided like that would be a most rude awakening for her. At such an eventuality, she would be as irrelevant to them as Diana, Princess of Wales proved on her divorce from HM King Charles III. They do not care; their jobs are more important than who is the Sovereign or heir’s wife – that Diana, Princess of Wales’ expulsion made perfectly clear. Sadly, Catherine did not reflect on this and realise that she could suffer a similar fate for giving her dormant detractors, the courtiers, ample ammunition with which to work.
In due course, when it pleases both William and the courtiers/persons in grey, Catherine will find herself being fed on as if by famished piranhas; they will be vicious and merciless – that is, in the event of an eventual separation and divorce of two Princes and Princesses of Wales in say 50 years. The Queen certainly kept a trained eye on all Windsor wives just as keenly as she did her gee-gees; she never dare touch Catherine as she is William’s task companion with infinitely more powerful Michael Overleaves than either Queen Elizabeth II or HRH Prince William, Prince of Wales.
I always remember that Christmas at Sandringham when attending church, Sarah, Duchess of York wore a blue turban with a crown-less broad-brimmed, grey-white hat. As seen on TV, she was larking about and displaying behaviour that is not within the tenets of the the second Victorian age’s misogynists. At the time, HM Queen Elizabeth Queen Mother was still alive and of course, the Queen and her decisions are both decisive and merciless. Sarah’s numbers can be summed up by the song sung at the end of the musical, Spamalot “Always look on the bright side of life.” Just keep chipperly plugging away and somewhere over the next hill will be Valhalla. Spayed, where the hell was Sarah to run off to? Besides, as we now know, they wanted her kept within the grounds of Windsor Castle because they knew damn well that she was controlled there than being off to America, running her damn mouth.
What an absolute crock of shit. An utter sham at trying to boldly lie before the world. Perhaps, the idiots of the island kingdom will buy it but no one else is either obliged or have to tolerate this insult to intellect. Queen Elizabeth II is damn well storming out of a meeting, in which a blasted American commoner told her to remove her garter gown. Of course, anyone conversant with the layout of Windsor Castle would know that she was not headed to the photo shoot but storming from the photo sitting to her quarters. “How dare she damn well speak to me like that?” Human civilisation does not comprise over 8 thousand worlds scattered across 5, 863 star systems; rather, it is but one world in one star system. There are no damn secrets and there are two things that never lie: facts and a camera. I know someone who lived and worked for years in London as a commonwealth diplomat, who on numerous occasions met with The Queen. Over dinner one night, this diplomat dismissed The Queen as “crass, cheap and absolutely nobody.” This person, based on social status in their commonwealth country, only ever callously speaks the truth.
In a mere twenty-four hours, The Queen had the narrative changed and was obsequiously afforded grovelling apologies. Just imagine, The Queen has always had the ability to call off the dogs, whether it is with Diana, Princess of Wales, Meghan, Duchess of Sussex or Sarah, Duchess of York. What that episode with Annie Liebowitz reveals, is that The Queen willingly allowed the Fleet Street abattoirs to feed on female members, chiefly wives, of the monarchy to maintain control over and abuse of these women, the wives of Windsor. It is the most insidious form of misogyny imaginable; these women for not being in the Victorian mould were possibly recruited so that the misogyny and abuse of strong independent women could be engaged and fostered. Indeed, it is as if a history of ritual abuse of women was actively engaged in across the span of the second Victorian age.
Just like that, a simple silhouette, no royal pearl necklace. No jewellery… nothing. Just her effortless elegance, that foundation of African melanin and numerology, which attest to the fact that the camera is more besotted with her than anyone else in the Windsor dynasty. Just by being there, she was the most photographed and best dressed. Most of all, just by being there, she had won. Meghan, truth be told, was pissing on old pepper mouth’s grave. Meghan proved the one strong woman who was not felled by the Victorian misogynist, Queen Elizabeth II. Though HM The Queen and the courtiers have succeeded in perpetuating the racist notion, via the Fleet Street abattoirs, that Meghan is the angry Black woman until the day that they address the blackamoor brooch incident who really cares?
Do not for a nanosecond buy into the lie that The Queen and the rest of the Court of St. James would have you believe, Diana, Princess of Wales was not crazy. Diana, Princess of Wales was one of the shrewdest women to have wedded into the House of Windsor. She was feared and most of all, they knew that she knew her power. That Victorian misogynist, Queen Elizabeth II, empowered by her mother HM Queen Elizabeth Queen Mother, made the smothering spaying of Diana, once she had performed her royal duty as child-bearer, their number one objective. There is positively no way that The Queen was going to give Diana, Princess of Wales a divorce settlement that would allow her to live a comfortable life. She was being fed to the dogs and told to go make your way, after all, Jacqueline Kennedy did it. Go find yourself a billionaire! Smarter than the lot of them, Diana went out and got herself a Muslim with whom she would start a rival dynasty after having converted in due course. Trust an artisan soul (Diana, Princess of Wales and Meghan, Duchess of Sussex) to take the fight to her enemies.
What chance in hell did Meghan, Duchess of Sussex have, when already the Court of St. James had dealt with her kind before, in the form of Diana, Princess of Wales, and convincingly dispensed with her with vulgar finality? Just look at the way TRH Prince & Princess of Wales are looking at Meghan as though she were easy prey. Throughout, Meghan looked on edge, utterly uncomfortable. This was all for the Waleses’ benefit and no one else, of that Meghan was fully aware. To be fair, HRH Prince William, Prince of Wales did pick up the phone and call his brother, Prince Harry inviting him and his wife, Meghan, Duchess of Sussex to join him and Catherine, HRH Princess of Wales on the walkabout at Windsor Castle’s long walk. William did not need HM King Charles III’s permission and he certainly did not care what the courtiers would possibly think.
Now HM King Charles III has decided that if TRH Duke & Duchess of Sussex are good little banished problems then he just might afford their children royal titles, which is their birth right. What in essence the King is implying, is that there is a strong likelihood that the Sussex children will not be afforded titles. So though they are legitimately royal born children, just like Alexandre Grimaldi-Coste, Prince Albert II of Monaco’s lovechild, the fact that Alexandre has a Black mother was reason to decree that Alexandre would never be in the line of succession or be afforded royal titles.
Louis Ducruet, Princess Stephanie’s son and Alexandre’s cousin, on the eve of the former’s wedding with Alexandre’s step-sister, Jazmin Grimaldi, who is also of illegitimate birth by a Caucasian American. You are not good enough to be royal or engage in royal engagements because you are born of a Black woman that it all it means. Of course, the Belgian royals fully accepted as one of their own, an illegitimate daughter who was found to be genetically one of their prince’s children.
Prince Albert II of Monaco with his South African-born wife, Princess Charlene, who clearly sticks around to collect her $10m annually before having her lawyers announce divorce proceedings, is a keen reminder of how racism saturates all of European society. Clearly, Princess Charlene cannot abide being trapped a nanosecond longer than is possible. What sweet revenge for Diana, Princess of Wales not only is HM Camilla, Queen Consort having to sleep alone at Ray Mill whilst King Charles III is at Highgrove, most definitely not alone – seriously, do you really think that Ivar Mountbatten is the only queer in the House of Windsor?
As the final photograph of The Queen callously betrays, at the end of the day, she had become without her hat, handbag, brooch, pearl necklace, gloves and that perfected self-deprecating smile a study of the spent Victorian misogynist. Stripped, she was as if the Wizard of Oz exposed. She spent her life projecting the image of the great unifier, building a legacy of commonwealth inclusivity and togetherness with her willing to bet £35m on the creation of the Sussexes, an interracial couple whom as BBC’s Anita Rani stated on their wedding day, ‘we like her as she can look a little bit Indian…”
As these two episodes with HM King Charles III illustrate, this is not someone who gives a damn about what Americans or Blacks think. They all know that HRH Princess Michael of Kent was being racially harassing of Meghan, Duchess of Sussex by wearing the blackamoor brooch, yet they dug in their heels and had a hissy fit about these ‘stinking’ Americans, ‘stinking’ Black-Americans being so ridiculously obsessed with race. Meghan and Harry complaining about Princess Blackamoor’s racist attack, HM King Charles III, HRH Prince William, Prince of Wales, HRH Philip, Duke of Edinburgh and The Queen would have reacted precisely as Charles behaved about a mere pen, its placement and or functionality.
That blasted flat-arsed racist woman, Princess Blackamoor ought never to have set foot within spitting distance of the Sussexes at their wedding; however, as a form of protest, there was sat her fetid flat arse at St. George’s Chapel on May 19, 2018. After the platinum jubilee coup where Princess Blackamoor was sat even better than the Wessexes, now that The Queen has crawled into her casket, sans crown, shadow and spitefully malignant ego, that racist, Eurotrash, reptilian hybrid was no where to be found sat ahead of the Sussexes at The Queen’s funeral at Westminster Abbey or St. George’s Chapel Windsor.
One evening when living in Cabbagetown, Merlin had friends over for dinner; they were a smart professional couple from the U. S. west coast – they thankfully were not theatre folk. He was a banker and she, formerly an actor, was now a psychoanalyst. I always remember her talk on fame based on her professional observations. Fame said she, was worse than being a drug addict or alcoholic. Her perceptions were revolutionary. According to her, once famous one was straitjacketed into a life of fixity where the known and accepted persona could little change. Regardless how the famous person’s persona actually resembled one’s true nature or not, you were relegated to living a life that ultimately as you aged, you would grow to resent. She used the example of famous film actors being unable to stay in the game as the camera’s vulgarity dispensed with them.
I remember at the time, she used HM The Queen as a prime example of someone who was locked into being ‘the queen’ and that’s that. Well as her cancer consumed her from within, there were signs that all the years of being the penultimate Victorian misogynist, were exacting its toll on her. Indeed, such persons said Merlin’s actor friend turned psychoanalyst were always the most embittered towards the end of their lives as they, in essence, had never been free. Even when at Balmoral being one of the people as the locals eulogised The Queen, it was still never her true self. That’s a lot of energy, a lot of Maya. All that spaying of royal women who threatened the Victorian misogynist’s beau idéal and all of them: Princess Margaret, Queen Alexandra, HM Camilla Queen Consort, Sarah, Duchess of York, Diana, Princess of Wales, Meghan, Duchess of Sussex were fed to the Fleet Street abattoirs and excruciatingly spayed. Yet, Diana, Princess of Wales, Sarah, Duchess of York and Meghan, Duchess of Sussex fought back. HRH Prince Henry, Duke of Sussex was neutered, his military honours stripped because The Queen was being vindictive in the extreme. For that TRH Duke & Duchess of Sussex fought back and relocated away from the kingdom without the Victorian misogynist having any access to their children.
Why indeed should Archie and Lilibet be subjected to racism from the royals or courtiers when The Queen, HM King Charles III and HRH Prince William, Prince of Wales made it perfectly clear that they are not a racist family? Indeed, Prince William may well be right but the courtiers are another matter. They rule and they do by way of leaking everything and targeting those they do not approve of; from Diana, Princess of Wales, Sarah, Duchess of York to most definitely Harry and Meghan. All that Victorian misogyny for having lived long enough, was with karma’s irreverence undone. Courtiers are ruled by the number 9. They are archly conservative, discriminating, scheming, dangerous and the very heart of deception, betrayal and intrigues. These people will be the first to start squawking on the death of The Queen, the second Victorian age’s misogynist.
They will character assassinate the Sussexes far and wide but never once will they be heard to discuss the blackamoor brooch incident. Truth is, they would have been wildly celebratory at the blackamoor brooch incident. Courtiers are advisers and as such, senior palace/royal household staffers with long seniority. They are also minor royals and the relations/descendants of minor royals from prior sovereigns’ reigns. They are not going anywhere. The leaks come from them and they would have been given license to racially harass Meghan, Duchess of Sussex once newly engaged Meghan joined the family. There has not been and never will be an investigation into the racial harassment that Meghan suffered at the hands of Princess Blackamoor and all the other courtiers scattered across all royal households.
Never will these royal sycophants divulge the dirt they know about the Sovereign or its direct heirs; this is why HM King Charles III and his equerry, William and Rose and Catherine and Ben will never be discussed or leaked to the Fleet Street abattoirs.
What these courtiers do not realise is that they reveal themselves in the post funeral attack on Meghan as having been the ones referred to by Meghan, Duchess of Sussex during the Oprah interview in 2021 as denying her doing anything or affording her the help that she sought when struggling during her mental crisis. Do keep in mind that Catherine may well have made Meghan cry because at the time, William had been having an affair with Rose Rocksavage during Catherine’s pregnancy with HRH Prince Louis of Wales.
Indeed, what the courtiers do not realise, is what a horrible, racist light in which they present the House of Windsor. It it extremely important to keep in mind that senior members of the House of Windsor may very well themselves not be anti-Black racists but certainly, Princess Blackamoor and her open racist attack has thusly tarred and feathered them. That is damage which has precipitated many predominantly Black commonwealth nations to begin the process of removing the Sovereign as their head of state.
All the pain and abuse that Victorian misogynist The Queen had inflicted was returned her way. As she tried to spay an American, a Black American, along came another American, Virginia Giuffre, holding her to ransom, in essence, because she – though the Governor of the Church of England – had a lovechild, HRH Prince Andrew Duke of York, with Lord Porchester. Indeed, Diana vanquished for having been felled by the last of the Victorian misogynists, was ultimately avenged as Harry accepted the £35m wedding then left the kingdom with Black American bride, Meghan Duchess of Sussex, thereby putting an end to The Queen’s disingenuous bid at sustaining her commonwealth legacy with the Brown and Black peoples throughout the commonwealth. How fitting that the last photograph of The Queen had her standing, broken, aided by a walking stick whilst a roaring fire triumphantly danced to her rear.
What does it really matter? HM King Charles III may or may not issue letters patent, thereby affording Archie and Lilibet the titles of Prince and Princess. Honest to god, the Sussexes are doing just fine. Conveniently, the Victorian misogynist, The Queen, consumed herself after a decades-long campaign of spaying and even murdering Windsor wives. How can anyone lay blame at Meghan, Duchess of Sussex’s door when Sarah, Duchess of York and Diana, Princess of Wales had been equally spayed and ravaged? One of the reasons why it has been especially hard for Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, is that for having lived a life of ‘passing’ she radically transitioned overnight to being the most racially preyed on Black woman in history and that cannot be easy. Obviously, The Queen cannot be said to have had no part in any of these campaigns, especially so when each Windsor wife was subjected to campaigns that were alarmingly similar in tone and execution.
The Sussexes got fabulous material for the Netflix docuseries with the death and state funeral of The Queen. The Sussexes don’t need the Windsors, just look at them, HM King Charles masquerading with that beard of his, who seems blissfully unaware that sporting invisible doilies does not, in the slightest, lessen the fright. Now, HM King Charles III no more desires her than he did Diana, Princess of Wales at the start of their wedding; too busy him spending quality time with his equerry.
Catherine, HRH Princess of Wales, bless her, was the only one who escaped the Victorian misogynist archetype’s rapacious talons, which reigned for near a century through three queens. Though she certainly displayed that misogyny with Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, it certainly would be good if she were to lay to rest that voracious misogynist archetype that has plagued the Queens of Windsor and terrorised the wives of Windsor. Only time will tell. In the meantime, she will go on being headstrong and holding her own against pugnaciously stubborn HRH Prince William, Prince of Wales. Theirs will be the gap generation reign where either the second Victorian age ruled by the misogynist archetype finally concludes and the House of Windsor moves into the age of Aquarius or it does not and that would be regrettable. Then again, if not Catherine, HRH Prince George of Wales does possess a fourth number of 5, which looks to be one part libertine and nine parts scandals all around – that auspiciously is an Aquarian archetype if ever there was one.
History is a respecter of no one. History, indeed, will not be kind to Queen Elizabeth II. She embodied the Victorian misogynist to perfection. This was an approach that was fostered by HM Queen Mary, King Mother, who then groomed both her impressionable daughter-in-law, HM Queen Elizabeth, Queen Mother and her favoured granddaughter, Queen Elizabeth II. The second Victorian age will hopefully be well and truly concluded with the passing of Queen Elizabeth II. The emotional and mental wreckage that this Queen effected in the lives of the wives of Windsor can not be overstated. Truth be told, she was, in the true Victorian sense, the anti-feminist Queen. Women who were not in direct line of succession to the throne, simply did not matter to MLK Queen Elizabeth II. As a matter of fact, I would even go so far as to state that not since the reign of HM King Henry VIII did royal wives, Tudor wives, fare so badly as the wives of Windsor. HRH Princess Margaret, Countess Snowdon, Camilla Shand-Parker-Bowles, HM Queen Consort, Diana, Princess of Wales, Sarah, Duchess of York and Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex. They were all bullied, abused and even murdered, forced out by divorce or banishment by way of the Fleet Street abattoirs with the tacit consent and machinations of the courtiers and Queen Elizabeth II herself.
With her passing, the end of the saturnian, militarised, warring age of Capricorn passes within the British monarchy; though the transition will be chaotic, here’s hoping that the transition to the age of Aquarius within the British monarchy well and truly marks the end of the misogynistic second Victorian age.
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.
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!
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 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.
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.
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’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.
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?”
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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 been “William 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.
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
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
Diana in Private
The Royal Marriages
A Life Worth Living
The Real Diana
Daughter of Narcissus
The Untold Life of Queen Elizabeth, The Queen Mother
The Queen’s Marriage
People of Colour and the Royals
Meghan and Harry
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.
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.
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.
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
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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’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.
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, 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.
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.
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.
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 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?
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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 – Trumpet
Wayne Shorter – Saxophone
Herbie Hancock – Piano
Ron Carter – Bass
Tony Williams – Drums
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.
As ever, life is like a flying dream; if you look down, you’re fucked. Enjoy the ride and fear no one!
Diana, Princess of Wales & HRH Prince Henry, Duke of Sussex.
On the eve of what would have been her 58th birthday, I share a dream encounter with Diana, Princess of Wales. At the time of the dream, July, 1996, Diana was then incarnate and would be dead less than 14 months later. The dream suggested Diana, parenting a male child of mixed race heritage. Naturally, at the time of the dream, she was not then yet involved with Dodi Al-Fayed. Years later, whilst living in Montréal and transcribing the 250 audiocassette recordings of my dreams which spanned a decade, I happened on the dream. By the time of the transcription, Diana was dead and so, on poring through the dream I thought that the male child in the dream to whom Diana seemed a mother, must have been a child of hers and Dodi’s.
Fast forward twenty-three years from the dream in question and I am beginning to think that this exceptional male royal child was actually a dream of tuning into a future in which Diana was serving as protector of her beloved son’s own baby boy, Archie Harrison. The skull of the baby boy in the dream who seemed like a son of Diana, Princess of Wales’, is exactly shaped like that of Archie, Diana’s grandson by way of her son, HRH Prince Henry, Duke of Sussex with his black wife, Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex.
Alas, another dream encounter with Diana, Princess of Wales. This one would involve moving into a probable reality scenario which may well have eventualised had she not tragically died thirteen months after having had the dream.
*Then again, it may well have been tuning into a future which has now come to pass wherein, the interracial Sussexes have a male firstborn. END.
As with the dream of July 9, 1993, in which I would have a most rapturous astral plane encounter with task companion, Merlin, here too there would be lots of train travel. This means of transportation, I have come to realise is employed by the soul when one is questing and traversing the astral either to past, future or probable timelines.
In this case, I had clearly dreamquested to a probable and non-too-distant future for Diana, Princess of Wales. Sadly, it was not to be. Obviously, in this probable near-future astral plane dream, Diana, Princess of Wales was fulfilled and had gone on to start a second family and was mother to a rather precocious son; a son whom I might add was clearly at least fourth level old-souled.
At the time, it was Sunday, July 27, 1996 and the Moon then transited both Capricorn and my eighth house. The house of death wherein is posited my retrograde Saturn, gave interesting insights to things as they might have unfolded as others’ agendum precluded Diana, Princess of Wales’s life becoming more of an inconvenience.
*Then, too, as time has unfolded, this rather prophetic dream was actually tuning into a probable reality which has become the collective future of human civilisation and one which we enjoy today. Here’s to TRH Duke & Duchess of Sussex and their incredible baby boy, Archie Harrison. END.
Of course, at the time of these dreams, I was then resident in Vancouver’s West End. The dreams were audiocassette-recorded on tape two hundred and seventeen and to be found in volume XXII of the dream opus.
There was much sturm und drang in parts of the dreams as it mirrored the vicious tectonics, long after Merlin’s passing, being played out legally and otherwise with persons whom I am so glad to be finally rid of. Chief among them that STD-riddled, dominatrix poseuse and fag-hag to boot, who quixotically saw herself cast into the world to play Merlin’s protector and saviour – the dreams of lost village idiots… indeed.
At the end of the day, Merlin never liked her and rightly so considered her a damn idiot. At his passing, he had nothing to do with her; hence the fool spent the next two-plus decades being bedpan-changer of Merlin’s betrayers – a poor play at atonement that.
Enough about knock-kneed caribou roadkill; the journey endures. Besides, the bond with Merlin could never have been successfully broadsided.
Come now my magical darlings, mischievously sport that wry smile known only to kindred spirits, slip into a luxurious plié, take my hand and let’s have ourselves a delicious group flying dream. We are better for sharing this journey together; for your support, I love you more.
Whilst heading down a street in what was undoubtedly Toronto, in this the first dream, it was then daytime. The street seemed like the one just around the corner from the Underground Railroad Restaurant, on King Street West, to the west of Sherbourne Street – Frederick Street. Going down Frederick Street’s incline, I noticed along a back lane that there was a large building. Too, I noticed a great many persons from past workplaces. The building seemed to be an annex to the main workplace as I had known it.
One of the first persons whom I recognised was Milton Bloomfield. He was wearing a pair of dark blue slacks and powder-blue short-sleeved shirt. Excited to see him, I bounded over and went around to the back entrance. Immediately, I began seeing persons whom I had completely forgotten about. Indeed, some of these persons looked as though they were definitely astral plane habitués. In particular, one old White male had that outré habitué look to him. I was simply astounded to have seen some of these persons. Truth be told, I had not thought of so many of them long in ages.
‘How quickly we do forget,’ I thought.
Such a very pleasant discovery of things past, it turned out to have been. That aside, I resumed my search of Milton Bloomfield in earnest. Again, I saw him in the distance. This time he was walking away from me without having noticed that I was there. In the end, though it would have been nice to have interacted with him, I just didn’t see the point in going after him. On going around another corner, since I was amongst persons from the past, I had thought to go in search of Yaramé Snead. I went over by some machines which no longer exist, in the waking state, seeing that she would shortly have shown up at the start of her shift. I then saw her at a desk working away and hurried over to be with her.
Stooping down to her left and rear, I playfully called out hello to her. On turning and seeing me, her reaction had been low-key. I was surprised really as I thought that she would at least have been her usual boisterous self. Her hair was beautifully braided. Frankly, I felt putout as she seemed not the least bit pleased to have seen me. With that, not wanting to be more of a seeming bother, I wrapped up the visit. Since she had declined to have become engaged, I just couldn’t be bothered to have invested much energy in the encounter.
Part of the focus of this the second dream, a man and I were together and seemingly were lovers. Tall, he was a redhead; as such, he represented one of my more choice sexual partners. Somehow, this man was in showbiz. We were definitely lovers. Whilst looking at TV Rosie O’Donnell had made remarks about him that were rather cutting. Initially, I had thought that her remarks had been about Xerxes Hamelin. The joke had been a crude remark wondering as, to which sex Xerxes Hamelin was.
This was in reference to her having breast reduction surgery. As I did not appreciate the crass put-down of Xerxes Hamelin, I would abruptly take my leave. I then went indoors of a house which, here, was like moving from the veranda indoors of the Crab Hill house. A few persons were inside the house as I ranted, vowing to get that fat ugly dyke, Rosie O’Donnell. There also was much laughter as I added,
“And we all know that I’m wicked enough, to do just as I say. But first we’re going to sue her frigging Mickey ass.” But my lover didn’t want to go through with it, he was a showbiz lawyer. Snapping at him, I said,
“I won’t hear of it. I will not be cutting him or her any slack. Get her fucking ass! There is no way that that no-classed fool is going to insult Xerxes Hamelin and get off lightly. End of fucking discussion. We sue! During the show’s rehearsal when that joke came up around the production meeting table, she could have had the decency to say, ‘no way, I’m not doing that kind of humour’. Obviously, she fucking well didn’t.
“It’s not about the fucking money; she will learn a thing or two, when I’m done with her fat-retaining, tired-looking ass.” What really amazed me was how lucid and lived-in, in the body, I was. I was really killer mad and out to do battle, “There is positively no way that she’d have gone out there and made disparaging remarks about Jews. And if you can’t knock the fucking Jews, you sure the fuck can’t haul your tired grey arse out on a stage to knock Blacks. Just stop and think about it. If a Jew would have her head in a nanosecond, then so the fuck will I.”
After that, we went off together. My lover was ever quiet and reserved whilst I did much of the talking. In that sense, he energetically was much like Merlin. However, it definitely was not Merlin.
As we walked about, we ran into Diana, Princess of Wales, who had a little child on her hip. One had the sense that, after having divorced HRH Charles, Prince of Wales, she had gone on to start another family. Definitely, this third child of hers was a son. Apparently, she had always wanted a little girl but here she was with a dark-haired bouncing boy. Obviously, from the looks of things here, Diana, Princess of Wales was going to have more than one family.
One interesting feature was that the boy was born with almost a full mouth of teeth. I mentioned in passing that I guess if you end up grinning as much as she does, it would not be surprising to have newborns appear grin-ready. Too, the child was already able to say some words at birth. The child was exceptionally intelligent. The young son’s most interesting feature was that even at less than six weeks, he was able to follow conversations.
The eyes on this child were exceptionally old-souled and wise. Not the feigned coyness of Prince William was his demeanour. We were in a huge stately Bentley whilst the child sat on his regal mother’s lap. Diana, Princess of Wales sat on my left with my lover, a showbiz lawyer-celebrity, seated next to me. My lover was of British birth; he was a well-placed Londoner and terribly well-off at that.
He was part of the few in whom Diana, Princess of Wales confided and had done so during her divorce proceedings with the Firm. From the Bentley, we got into another car. Although he really didn’t need it, the precocious son was travelling in a basket here. This child perceptively was quite advanced for his mere few months of life. He represented hands down a case for reincarnation.
Though he could talk, especially for someone less than a year old, he was still rather stubby and full of baby fat. I took the rather self-aware child from Diana, Princess of Wales and headed for the car. I then didn’t know whether she would be sitting in back of the car with us. Considerately, I had opened the front door for her but she told me that it wasn’t necessary.
She then went into the back of the car at which point I returned her son to her. In all of this, the precocious son hadn’t uttered a word of whiny protest for having been separated. He had simply looked me in the eye whilst studying me and not, god forbid, because of something as absurd as my being Black. This woman, his mother, was rather a genuinely sweet-personalitied soul. Not your typical animus-charged, parvenu, New World wealthy snob, like heaven only knows so many North Americans, was she. After we had taken off, I had mentioned that I had heard Prince William – who now was much taller than her – was very well-hung.
Furthermore, he loved roughing it with all the little willing boys at Eton. This supposedly was hot gossip in those circles and which both my lover and Diana, Princess of Wales thought hysterical. She expressed great pride in having produced such a fine stud for the Firm. She mentioned that he had to start his studding practice sometime and far better that it be at Eton than with too many willing little girls the world over. Clearly, Diana, Princess of Wales had no desire to turn grandmother just yet. She was a very funny person with a distinctive snort-like giggle.
We then went into a store that was called something like Mayfair & Browne or something along those lines. A small, high-end department store it was.
*The warm blues here would suggest that it was, in fact, Fortnum & Mason. END.
Afterwards, we had attended the opening of Parliament where Queen Elizabeth II had naturally been present. The Queen had asked the House of Lords to stand and, at that point, they had drawn some heavy red drapes. At this point, there were rituals of an occult nature which were being performed. This had been the custom for centuries and had been nobody’s business. The few priests, who performed the rituals, spoke in an ancient tongue; olde English and Gaelic it would seem.
As part of the ceremony, the queen adopted a raspy, adversarial and tyrannical tone. She snapped at them as they spoke to her. Of course, this was to validate her absolute power as monarch. She had spoken by using the same ancient tongue as they had. Quite illuminating was all this for me. From where we all sat, the monarch sat opposite us at the far end of the stately hall. On the right was the House of Lords.
On the left, was the House of Peers where things were even more arcane and secretive. Clearly, there was much more wealth possessed by the members of the House of Peers than those in the House of Lords; for one, they wore more expensive fur-lined robes. Queen Elizabeth II then stood and put an end to the rituals. When the priests retreated, the curtains rose again and at that point members of both houses of Parliament rose to bow to her majesty, the queen.
The Queen now looked her usual stoical self. Next, a loud debate rang out in the House of Lords; this was the point at which bills were being introduced. All in all, this was a very noisy affair. This was the point at which my London-born lover was expected to have introduced my suit against Rosie O’Donnell. However, he was blowing cold on the issue and tried to back out of it.
What caused him to have hung back was the raucous fight that had broken out between two Lords on some point or other. In point of fact, they had been quite vituperative. Soon after, we took our leave of Westminster Palace. Diana, Princess of Wales was not seated with the rest of the royals. Nor, for that matter, was the more royally scorned Sarah, Duchess of York seated with the royals.
The ride to the department store was no more than ten minutes. Once inside, we had gone some escalators which took us to a cosmetics counter. The look was pretty much like a Clinique counter, though, I really don’t think that it was such. On seeing an extended member of the House of Windsor coming down the aisle towards us, my lover had dropped behind. The focus of my lover’s attention was a rather princely gentleman. He was young with full red lips but not was horsey-looking.
*This princely gentleman was, in fact, James Ogilvy – grandson of the dashing Prince George, Duke of Kent. END.
They exchanged pleasantries and it was clear that my lover was rather smitten with him. I didn’t though get the sense of him, Mr. Ogilvy, that he was Gay. From there, we kept going further down in the complex below street level. Each time that we had come off an escalator, we had headed to the left to get the next. This in turn had taken us down another flight. Eventually, we arrived at a level which was clearly part of the city’s sprawling Underground.
As we walked, there were two little birdlike, old English women whose slow amble gait had gotten me fast impatient. Finally, we managed to have pushed past them and gotten the train just in time. Here we had travelled at fantastic speeds. The trip was for quite some time and, somehow, it seemed as though they used magnetic conductors here in this civilisation. There was a sense too that we had been travelling several miles, at least 100, below the surface.
When finally we had arrived at our destination, we had gotten out into a labyrinth of tunnels which had eventually led above-ground in a Japanese city. We spent not very much time in Japan as it proved a stopover where we changed trains. Moving on, we had travelled on a futuristic-looking train. On board were two stylish, East Indian young women. Both were clearly tired for having travelled a lot and having crossed several time zones. A loud American was on board; she was an overweight woman. As can be expected, she talked aloud for everyone to notice her. She moronically complained about the trains not being aboveground and whined,
“I want it to be aboveground. There’s nothing to see down here. It’s all black and dark.” She said the word ‘black’ with the same customary loathing as she had applied to African-Americans her whole life. “Don’t they realise that there’re lots of tourists and we want to see. It’s so boring being down here in all this blackness.”
‘Such a fucking acculturated bigoted asshole,’ I thought. The train was painted white on the outside with lots of chrome and walnut finishing on the inside. Very comfortable, red leather seats throughout the interior; this was a truly posh experience. We had boarded at the front of the train. We pulled into a station, though, only briefly; the train took off again never having opened its doors. This time it took off in the opposite direction. By now, my lover and I were no longer travelling together; however, I did have a travelling companion with me.
On this leg of the trip, we had moved above-ground at one point where we had passed the most glorious stand of ancient old trees. They were ginkgoes that looked millennia-old. Each was easily in excess of 200 feet. I quite liked it here. Though the vista was beautiful, it didn’t last very long as once again we were below-ground whilst ploughing through the lurching labyrinth of tunnels deep in the earth.
At the end of the trip, we had arrived at a swank hotel which seemed to be in either Switzerland or Austria. From the hotel, my lover and I were reunited and began trying to get in touch with Diana, Princess of Wales. He wanted to write to her instead of speaking so had sent her a fax. Here we were a bit in the future, where everyone was automatically assigned their personal phone number with cell phone/fax.
*Truth be told, rather than a fax, it was a text. Of course, at the point of the dream texting was well ahead of its time. END.
No matter where one was in the world, regardless of the borders, the same phone number managed to get you. Interestingly, they were not excessive amount of numbers. He had sent her a fax (text) with his private number and had asked Diana, Princess of Wales to call him; he had wanted to lend his support in her divorce proceedings.
At one point, when we had been driving, Diana, Princess of Wales opened up and spoke about her divorce from HRH Charles, Prince of Wales. She said that it had left her feeling truly awful. At the end of it, the one thing that she had taken away was the sense that she felt greater empathy for what Blacks suffer globally. Said she, she had gone to a couple of stores to shop, after having been divorced, where the mere salesclerks treated her with scorn.
Nobody wanted to serve her as if she had even been hostile to them. Diana, Princess of Wales said that it had been so overwhelming that in one case she had gone rushing back to her car in tears. For no longer being a part of the ‘Firm’, the public simply treated her as an unfortunate laughing stock. Some clerks had been outright rude to her. She said that she couldn’t believe that anything could have made her so mad.
To have been denied was the most painful experience. They were so mean-spirited and spiteful she claimed. Her voice here was high-pitched and almost feverish when she expressed her rage at the injustices she had experienced. She said that the idea of racial animus that she has heard Blacks speak of, she could finally understand. Diana, Princess of Wales said that she had experienced something pretty close to it in the lack of civility that she had gotten from everyone. Intently looking at her large clear eyes as she spoke, I was much impressed by her remarks. She was rather ravishing-looking and was so in her element for being mother to this exceptional child.
*Long after the dream and as things played out, the male child whom Diana, Princess of Wales had parented in this dream was clearly fathered by Dodi Fayed. Of course, at the time of the dream, I hadn’t a clue of Mr. Fayed’s existence. The precocious boy had his father’s nose and brows.
Clearly, this dream was tuning into a probable reality which finally was not to be. The child was clearly at least fourth level old-souled and may well have been a king or if not warrior soul.
**More thoughts on this dream. The fact that the lawyer who proved a lover of mine in this dream was a redhead, is at this time, I believe, a reference to HRH Prince Henry, Duke of Sussex. As it is extremely rare that I would dream of the latter, it is not a surprise that he was translated here by my waking consciousness as anyone but Prince Harry. Also, in light of the fact that in marrying Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex, Prince Harry can be said to be an advocate of sorts for racial reconciliation with regards to the ties that the BRF historically have to the enslavement of Africans. Interestingly, that Diana, Princess of Wales should talk about having empathy for the racism that Blacks experience on a daily basis, is a dead giveaway. The theme of race and racism is a prevalent one where her son, HRH Prince Henry, Duke of Sussex is concerned.
For having chosen to wed an entity mate of his (HRH Prince Henry, Duke of Sussex) with whom he has a long reincarnational history and someone who has twice previously been a senior royal in the British Royal Family, is reason enough why the theme of race would be discussed and why Diana, Princess of Wales would be both empathetic and speak passionately about this issue. Naturally, throughout the dream she would be closely bonded with a firstborn male from another marriage; however, rather than being a firstborn of hers in a subsequent marriage, this older soul child would prove to be the firstborn mix-raced child of her son, Prince Harry, who was represented by the redhead lawyer/advocate who happened to be my lover. Indeed, Prince Harry can be seen to be an advocate for addressing and advancing racial dialogue and race relations. Similarly, that his firstborn son, Archie is a seventh-level mature priest soul would indicate someone whose focus in life will be about inspiring, uplift, healing and harmony… god only knows that is sorely needed at this time. END.
Straighten up and fly right! I love you more than you know…