Some music to calming the sweetener brow as we watched the huskies run, the wind to sky blew and the strangeness of anticipation overwhelmed my ever decreasing impulse to reaction. By chance I was waffling about the outlines of a new cosmic belief system being slowly fashioned and coming into view. How viewed in a certain light the Manson malarkey was a testing of the waters to see if USofA was ready yet for a Franckiinsteinian Sabbatean full on cleansing of the immediate Messianic horde. How Levenda’s new book blended tantric and alchemy for a clearer understanding of the whole transubstantive prima material malarkey. “So we’ll need to go and read all the original material in its original lingo then” quipped my Apiruapache audience. “Well I don’t think you or I will get into the bowels of whatever archive the chosen have allowed themselves to ononotate” then I remarked that the whole Laurel Canyon gumph was Phoenician admiralty and before I could give out about the observatory I heard those unforgettable words “When I was a lad I stayed in Laurel Canyon, at my uncle’s place, for a year. He was an arms dealer and his nympho wife couldn’t keep her hands off me no matter how much I protested!” I didn’t know until this morning that my audience is a major, major Doors/Morrison researcher. So we got side tracked into doubles/triples and the many Janus faced polioticians we are likely surrounded by unknowingly if what we know about multiple faked deaths of Nazis is even half the truth. I was going to get into the break away religion bit by steering back through Levenda again when he floored me with “ I remember sitting on the Bakerloo line over 30 years ago now and eyeing up a very attractive older lady sitting opposite me. Massive afro she had. So I looked at who she was accompanied by. Jim Morrison was looking at me.” FFS. Well that was it; I was about to embark on a detour into what Suspicious Deaths blog used to write about when all hell broke loose, the others had arrived and it was show time.
