Apocalypse Tonight: Where the Machmen Meet

Vogue, who've been at the forefront in driving the Pearl meme this year, are featuring guest-editor Beyonce Knowles-Carter for their September cover. And lo and behold, Mystery BeyBalon took the opportunity to crown herself with Garlands. 

Secret Sun readers expect nothing less.

Yes, the cover is so fabulous I could die in a rosary, die in a rosary. I'm sure Conde Nast is hoping it will move some units, since the legendary publisher seems to be circling the drain as of late. 

Common complaint among legendary publishers these days.

But that rough home truth didn't dissuade The Daily Beast (created by one-time Conde Nast golden girl Tina Brown) from fishing for clicks with a mind-numbingly stupid article that argues as fabulous as this special is, "it's an insult to journalism." 

Why? For reasons. Something-something "real journalism," whatever the hell that means anymore.

I'm no expert on the topic but I doubt too many people buy Vogue for its muckraking investigative journalism. And I wouldn't be surprised if The Daily Beast weren't circling the drain themselves.

Some of the interior photography is certainly in our little Secret Sun wheelhouse as Mystery BeyBalon tries on a whole host of outfits brimming with the usual pseudo-occult suggestion.  

Just as the cover image mirrors Isis as described in The Golden Ass, that little hairpiece there could be a nod to Trans-Mithras (better known as Lady Liberty) or to Hecate, goddess or witchcraft and sorcery. 

Then again, it's all rather redundant these days, isn't it?


This is fairly hilarious-- the close election in Ohio's 12th District (there's that 12 again) is being blamed on some google-eyed hippie geezer running as a Green. Joe here has staked out a number of opinions on various issues but he's apparently also a Star-Child (and quite possibly a big Billy Meier fan).

I'd vote for him.

Speaking of the usual crypto-occult symbolism a friend sent this this shot of a Justin Timberlake concert. Notice the twinning, subtle OA and implied Square and Compass.

Less subtle is this aerial view of the Jehovah's Witness European headquarters. Pretty funny stuff. Is this the usual Crypto-Masonic wibble-dibble or have the Witnesses been read in on the Lyra thing?

Cast your vote in the comments.

This little logo (for a woman's mixed martial-arts league) is a riot of clashing signifiers. You have the Soviet red and gold star, the Phoenix and Invicta, a common Roman epithet for Sol and/or Mithras. 

I'll have to look into this outfit. See what this is all about.

Speaking of Garlands, Sir Paul the Undead chose the 49th anniversary of Abbey Road to actually cross Abbey Road. A rather odd time to hold a photo op, no? 

Maybe he's down with the emergent archetypal dominants. If anyone would be, it'd be the one-time Cute Beatle.

Now we hear that Orange is the New Black Magic actress Ruby Rose (known around these parts as "Ruby Stars Are Ruddy Rose the Pearly Dewdrops") has been cast as the new Batwoman. 

I actually bought the hardcover collection of the "new" Batwoman's origin (on account I'm a big fan of the artist, who also drew Promethea for Alan Moore) but it was one of the dullest, most inert comics I've ever read. I've read more interesting take-out menus.

Well, best of luck to CW anyway.

Speaking of The Red and the Black, not only is Beyophomet rocking the Garlands and the Orange in the new Vogue, she's also modeling her some Masonry. Shockingly audacious and surprising, isn't it? I may have to lie down until the palpitations stop.

In any event, the Great Game brings us to our next item...

The Future is Freemale

The Freems scored a PR coup the other day with their announcement (on Lammas, of all days) that transwomen could Freem. Or that transitioned members could continue to partake in Freemly activities, I'm not exactly sure.

I'm sure this is a purely altruistic move and has nothing to do with the "Divine Feminine" as depicted in countless Freemish works of art or "the Great Work" of "Perfecting Creation" and returning Mankind to its "Golden Age," as described by ancient writers such as Hesiod and Plato. So a job well done, Freemers.

That's Mankind, by the way.  

In a separate and totally-unrelated story, scientists are creeping ever-closer to full asexual reproduction and are learning new ways to create life without the use of sperm or eggs.

Now they're using stem cells to conjure up the coming alien-hybrid race to  manufacture these alien zygotes do so, reportedly not out of necessity but simply to troll Pat Robertson.

Turnaround is fair play, I guess.

As well as Transgenic hybridization. Don't know if these chimera experiments are being conducted in train cars parked in West Virginian yards or not. 

My gut says yes.

The Future is Female (give or take)

Speaking of the Divine Feminine, the producers of the new Terminator sequel released a still with its female stars (also on Lammas). Original star Linda Hamilton will be returning as Sarah Connor.

Incidentally, Linda Hamilton was the star of the Beauty and the Beast TV series back in the 80s., co-starring Ron "Hellboy" Perlman. 

That's not John Connor by the way. That's "Grace" played by Canadian actor McKenzie Davis. I'm not familiar with them but I don't really get out to the movies much anymore.

Bonus factoid: Sarah Connor was played by Game of Thrones' Lena Headey in the Terminator TV series.

Shortly after the Masons announced trans members were welcome, Variety coincidentally put out a special Trans Hollywood issue, featuring Chaz Bono, Laverne Cox and some other person on the cover. The articles are all available on their site.

Finally, the Real Doll folks have premiered a new line of bloke sex dolls called "Gabriels." How stunningly shocking that a robot meant to replace blokes is named after an Archangel. 

What exactly are the odds? Astronomical.

But look out, fellows--not only does Gabriel stay rock-hard all night, he's also programmed to regale his owner with stimulating conversation.

I mean just look at this model; I'm sure he can sweet-talk his mate with charming anecdotes about countless weekends spent detailing his Escalade, his rad new bench-press techniques and his favorite Ed Hardy shirts.

The new Gabriels are multi-lingual as well. Currently they speak English, Spanish, French and Douchebag.

I'm sure they'll be a big hit with the ladies. 

In much the same way Playgirl magazine delighted its female audience.

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