It's the End of the World As We Know It (and Larry Fine)

Hey, giant extraterrestrial demons on the roof of the most prestigious museum in the western hemisphere? Sure, why not? Go for it. I mean it is 2018, right? 

Take a good long look, my friends. You're looking at the future. 

Don't worry, they come in peace. Don't he look peaceful? A regular pussycat.

Now, the future faith is being rolled using two very powerful tools of persuasion and/or coercion; the arts (particularly public art) and intersectionality. And the piece in question-- titled We Come in Peace-- is the creation of Huma Bhabha, a female-identifying Pakistani artist who works with recycled materials. And who I'm going to go out on a limb and guess is maybe not real into guys. 

Perfect. Just perfect. You couldn't script it more perfectly.

So let me just warn you folks now, if you're planning a trip to the Met and you fail to regard this charming little display here with the sufficient degree of reverence, you can bet your bottom Bitcoin you'll not only be seen as a Philistine and a religious fanatic but that there's a laundry list of -isms and -phobias you're probably guilty of as well.  

I mean, we looked at your Twitter feed and you don't seem to be suitably angry about the evil, wicked Russians endlessly plotting to destroy our democracy and our way of life. And we understand you weren't all that enthusiastic about the Syria bombing either. 

And I didn't want to have to bring this up, but our people at your credit card company informed us that you never ordered your pussy-hat or your evil-eye gloves. I really hope that's some kind of computer glitch somewhere. For your sake.

Is there something you'd like to get off your chest? Like now? 

First-time-last-time offer here. 

Don't worry, We Come in Peace helpfully provides an example for you to follow when facing the hideous giant demons our Space Brothers. Because the Vegas our Space Brothers love you and care about you and the planet.

Aren't you grateful to the Angels Who Watch our Space Brothers? 

Sure, you are. We all are. 

We're more grateful together.

I mean, you're not like one of those Golden Dawn Nazi Christians who knocked down our infernal master Semjaza the Phylax statue, are you? 

What? The Golden Dawn are Hellenic pagans who hate Christianity? 

Hey now; what did we tell you about that mansplaining? Shut up and listen already.

Don't run; I love you.

I mean, you have a nice job and a nice house. It would be a cryin' shame if something terrible happened to all your nice things and your kids ended up working in our, uh, secret movie studios, don't you think? 

You don't want the local Antifa freedom-fighters showing up at your front door with aluminum baseball bats and a five-gallon bottle of industrial drain cleaner, do you? 

Of course not.

So fall to your knees and repent, if you please. Don't forget to wear your Orange. I'm sending you a text reminder now.


Oddly enough, We Come in Peace not only coincides with the onset of the Lyrids and Beyonce debuting her newest alter-ego "Beyophomet" at Coachella, it also ties in with the latest "let's make those kooky Christians look insane and dangerous with some made-up bullshit" psy-op.

And this time it's Nibiru that's bringing on the doom. I'm not going to go into the details here because they're all intentionally stupid, these alleged preachers of doom are the usual ridiculous shills no one's ever heard of and it's nearly impossible to find anyone but YouTube bots that actually believes any of this crap.

I mean, they roll out all these clowns and they all perform like trained snake-handling monkeys and everyone just shakes their heads and rolls their eyes in disgust. It's the old tried-and-true Westboro two-step, that zany disinfo program that works like gangbusters every time.

I mean, what the hell kind of expert on the apocalypse runs around making these kinds of predictions and doesn't cite a single Cocteau Twins song to back up their prophecies?


That's how you can be absolutely sure these shills are all full of shit.

But by sheer coincidence, April 23rd coincides with the peak of the Lyrids and mirrors the 9/23 "Beauty and the Beast" alignment we've spent so much time analyzing together.

But then again maybe this latest fake-Apocalypse scare is meant to inoculate everyone against, y'know, the actual real Apocalypse.  I mean, Megiddo seems to be an ever-present possibility with the nonsense going on in Syria and we have stories like that to process. 

And this map here is a record of all the earthquakes in the Ring of Fire in the past month. I should remind everyone that the temblors in question seem to be inching their way up the Richter scale with every passing day.

And it also seems like we've been seeing an awful lot of near-misses out there in space these days as well. This latest one reportedly came barreling towards us out of nowhere and is said to have astronomers totally by surprise. Allegedly.

And we keep seeing these crazy blizzards well into springtime. And despite the reported melting in parts of Antarctica (which were reported as being to be the result of underwater volcanoes) the Upside Down seems to have gotten a record amount of snow in the same time period we're being told it's all melting away into the sea.

Maybe the world will end in ice after all.

And if this isn't an omen, I'm not exactly sure what is. Interesting times we live in. Sadly.


The Cinderella sports story of the year is the incredible rise of the Vegas; the Vegas Golden Knights Vegas, that is. This expansion team burst out of nowhere to the playoffs, so to commemorate their remarkable ascent, the Trans-Mithras at the New York, New York casino was endowed with a Vegas jersey.

Now you know these guys mean business. So you have to root for them. 

Don't let us go finding out you didn't root for them, now. Hear?

Do check out the Vegas' little ritualistic mystery play, though, which has to be a first for pro hockey. Though I'm guessing it won't the last.

The Vegas so far have power over the Angelic Kindreds in the first round of the playoffs, because it was given to the Vegas to make war with the powers and principalities, and overcome them. 

In other playoff news, the Templar Bay Lucifers are beating the New Caesarea Satans in the usual kind of power struggle Tartarus is notorious for. 

Kind of like The Sopranos, just with pitchforks. Place is a fucking zoo.

Since a Red Dragon would be a bit too on the nose, the Vegas use a gila monster as their mascot.  Equally smelly and toxic, but more family-friendly.

Make sure you root for the Vegas. We'll be monitoring your Internet traffic. For your own protection.

A reader sent me this poster- this year's San Diego County Fair actually has a "Paddock Stage," which is headlining country singers Jason James and Lee Greenwood. 

I mean, what do you say at this point? Just rub our noses in it, why don't you?


A lot of readers have recommended Requiem to me and I finally got a chance to binge on it. And I must say it's terrific. It's essentially a six-hour 70s folk-horror movie, just minus the poor production values and period cheese-flutes. 

Top-rate and filled with spicy angel-magicky goodness. Well, angel magick, at least.

The cast is as terrific as you'd expect, though I must say I didn't recognize Tara Fitzgerald for quite some time. She's still a perfectly fine-looking woman, just not the irresistible manic-pixie cupcake she was back when The Simpsons was still funny.

If the name doesn't ring a bell, Fitzgerald's first big role was opposite Hugh Grant in Sirens.

Remember Hugh Grant? Remember the 90s, when everything wasn't fucking terrible? Misty water-colored memories. Could it be that life was oh-so-simple then?

And as everyone who reads this blog should expect by now, there are some juicy little clues as to who this series might actually be based on. I mean, hypothetically. 

And perhaps to make sure you do (hypothetically) the director burns a lot of screentime on this poster here, which has the two main character's promoting their concert (on 4/4) at "Royal Elizabeth Hall," ostensibly a portmanteau of Queen Elizabeth Hall and the Royal Festival Hall at the Southbank Centre in London, where the exteriors seem to be filmed. 

And where, of course, Our Lady gave her only solo concerts ever, during the London Olympics in 2012.

And even though the Matilda Gray looks suspiciously like Yolandi Visser (or at least her haircut does), her musical partner looks not entirely unlike a similar, real-life figure's musical partner... you can see here. Viewers will also note the Beauty and the Beast parallels in Requiem as well. 

Remember that Our Lady made an appearance with a similarly-beardy musician at Royal Albert Hall last year, on the first day of Leo and exactly 100 days before the Freemasons held their tercentenary there.

But as it happens, the interiors for "Royal Elizabeth Hall" weren't shot at the Southbank Centre but at St.David's Hall in Cardiff. 

Which just so happens to be across the street from the House of Fraser. 

What are the odds, folks, what are the odds.

And of course "Saint David" is rendered as DewiSant in Welsh. 

So "Royal Elizabeth", "David-Saint" and the "House of Fraser?" That's what we're talking about here?

I guess we are.

By a sheer stroke of mathematical randomality, Matilda Gray dons a metallic, scoop-necked gray dress for her appearance at Royal Elizabeth, in much the same way Our Lady, Queen Dowager of Sibyls, wore a metallic gray dress at her appearances at the Royal Festival Hall. 

Do note the bunch shoulder-upper arm stylings. Or that Tilly is wearing metallic gray and white in the concert poster.

Details. They're everything.

Anyway, it will all make perfect sense to you in the end. I won't spoil it for you but I'm sure a lot of you can guess.

Further, Requiem all centers on a creepy old mansion in a remote town in a Celtic nation, which couldn't help but call to mind Lennox Castle (where MKULTRA-like experiments were performed on mental patients and "wayward girls" in the 70s) or even Boleskine House.

Boleskine House being the notorious Loch Ness stomping grounds of crazy old Aleister Crowley and later one James Patrick Page.

Crowley having purchased Boleskine from the Fraser family.

Oddly enough, Boleskine was originally built to annoy the notorious Simon Fraser, AKA Lord Lovat AKA Frasery Fraserson, the Archduke of Fraserville. Which is kind of weird way to annoy someone.

I'll show that fackin' hurdie! Why, I'll build me a wee hunting hame on Loch Ness! Show that munty tube who's gaffer! Och!

As you might recall Simon Fraser-- or rather, his headless body-- made the news at an interesting time recently.

Lord Lovat's wife was named Bessy, incidentally.

But her headstone reads "Elizabeth Fraser."

Providing it's still standing.

And as fate would have it, another famous resident of the Loch Ness area made the news recently. On Friday the 13th, no less. 

Or no Ness.


Things have been so crazy I plumb forgot to observe the fiftieth anniversary of 2001: A Space Odyssey. I wasn't quite sure what more I could say about it but I'm sure I'd find something. So until I can sit down and work that all out let's just cut to the really important stuff.

The Elizabeth Fraser stuff.

Let's start with the fact that 2001 and "Pearly Dewdrops' Drops" share a birthday. 

As we'll see, there's a very interesting reason this should be so, and not just the fallen angel-alien-Anunaki angle, either. 

But wouldn't you just know it? Even though the cinema classic was released when Our Lady was just a wee wane, there's a FLAP (Fraser Locality Alignment Pattern) with 2001 as well.  

Or as well there should be.

And that's that the Uptown Theatre (where 2001 debuted) is right down the street (give or take) from the Fraser Mansion. 

Big deal, right? I mean, there are probably at least a couple other Fraser Mansions in the world, right? Or something.

Well, if that weren't enough, the Fraser Mansion is itself right down the street from the ritzy "Elizabeth's Gone Raw" restaurant and the Senate Building offices of one Michael Davidson, Attorney at Law.

So there's that name again.

And as the Fates demand, "Elizabeth's Gone Raw" is a Vega restaurant.

And apparently a rather Orange Vega restaurant at that.

I'm sorry, did you really think it actually ends somewhere? No. Never. 

It never ends.

Now, I said "Pearly Dewdrops' Drop" might be the most terrifying song ever recorded. However, I've come to realize it's prophesying--with alarming specificity-- something that already happened. So it's still rather unsettling, but for different reasons.

But the fact is, that given the Sibyl's obvious track record, "Five Ten Fiftyfold" is in fact the most terrifying song ever recorded. Even just a cursory glance at the lyrics points to that:

Wheezing and Sneezing
Tenfold it blew apart
It halved it in half
And went gushing gust wind

Why does that unsettle me?  Because of this:

Plus this....

Am I crazy to wonder if the Sibyl isn't prophesying a weaponized flu virus ("tenfold it blew apart"), going airborne ("went gushing gust wind") and killing half ("halved it in half") the world's population? 

Well, I am crazy, sure. But perhaps for different reasons. Let's just hope this one's a bit further off in the future. 

But then again, there's this little Rockefeller project here:

It halved it in half
And went gushing gust wind

Wheezing and sneezing and
Sneezing and wheezing and
Sneezing and sneezing and
Wheezing and sneezing and
Sneezing and wheezing and...

Five ten fiftyfold
Five ten fiftyfold
Five ten fiftyfold

Five ten fiftyfold

Jesus. I mean, listen to the track. It's like a time machine with a built-in TR808 and Memory Man. If you think prophecy sessions with the Pythia or the Cumean Sibyl were even remotely different--well, except for the electric guitars and drum machines, granted--you need to do some reading. 

More on this later. Because's there's the customary Fraserian tell that points directly to the H5N1, or avian flu, virus. 

Two, actually. Maybe three. Let's just say two and a half. Pray for us, Our Lady!

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