Was this a wedding or a gaslighting on a scale heretofore unseen? Yeah, I realize these events are usually ubiquitous and tinfoil-chewingly irritating, but I don't know. There's something off about this one.
I mean, Prince Henry taking a bride on the anniversary of King Henry beheading his consort? That strike anyone as a bit odd? Aren't these Windsor types supposed to be obsessed with symbolism and protoc...
OK, this is going to be some hit and run Synchromysticism. There's a lot to sort through and I don't have a lot of time so let's do this. Feel free to expand and expound in the comments section. I'll try to revisit this story if I can spare a few. But yeah, this thing just keeps on shootin' out the synchery, so much so that I wonder what we're really seeing here. I get the feeling it's going somewhere weird and dark.
Just a few items to review. I'm sure you're all tired of this story already but there was a very interesting peek behind the curtain amongst the festivities that we need to look more seriously at. More on that soon.
But in the meantime, you got your prerequisite Mermaids and your de rigeur Masonry. Seriously, start getting used to this stuff.
All right, this bullshit again. I was planning to do a post about the anniversary of Chris Cornell's death but here we are. I don't have a lot to say about this that isn't being said already, mind you. The only thing that caught my eye about this latest tophet-party was how it speaks to the total confusion of symbolism and semiotics we're all drowning in as the entire planet tiptoes towards the ultimate psychotic break. Plus, the syncs. Or variously, the "syncs." Plus, the witchcraft.
Sheesh, so much is going on I'm really falling behind. And tomorrow is the anniversary of Chris Cornell's death. So I think I'm going have to pick up the pace a bit for the next couple of weeks just because there's so much information we need to wrap our heads around, so as to get a handle on exactly what's going on all around us in these very, very strange times. I've got a Soundgarden mix running as I write here, only because I'm not existentially depressed enough already. Just in case you want to play along at home.
I don't know, do we owe folks like Hal Lindsey and Harold Camping an apology? I mean, we have a situation in which a game-show host is actually President, high-ranking Catholic clergy are cavorting with mind-controlleddegenerates celebrities dressed as Scarlet Women under the watchful gaze of an alien demon, and now the Third Temple US Embassy has been moved so as to straddle the border between the divided halves of Jerusalem. Oh, plus the whole event was expedited by a scion of the family that owns the notorious 666 Fifth Ave building. I mean, remember the days when we saw all these self-anointed prophets as hucksters and lunatics instead of insightful analysts with an unfortunate tendency to jump before the snap? Good times.