Uranus stops, moves backwards, retreating from the intensity of contact with Pluto, backing off of the low spark of high-heeled boys, but the friction is about to turn into fiction. UFOs emerge as holographic thought forms throughout the British countryside in a Piscean summerscape of unrelenting rain, casting a grey scrim across the sky, ripe for the theater of heaven to open right on time, the opening ceremonies of the Olympics are just around the corner. As Jim Morrison once said, “Let the ceremony begin.”
Mars is like a bullet train powered by a fuel cell of zealous redemption. We’ve gotten our shit straight with Mars in Virgo for nine months of preparation and gestation. Next week, it opposes Uranus and quares Pluto. Oh yeah, how about a little Mercury Retrograde? Did I mention today is Friday the 13th. Take a moment and say a prayer for Jacques DeMolay and that the ancient revenge on our consciousness be abated by the invocation of eternity and the peace that comes at great price–sacrificing your illusions at the altar of surrender.
Let’s talk Olympics. I was taken to task by a longtime reader and actually sacked by her due to the fact that I was not dealing with the XXX games with enough fervor. She believes that the games won’t get past the opening ceremonies. She might be right. Shimon Peres just canceled his stay for them. Sometimes its not who comes to the party, but doesn’t that’s even more telling. What do we know about these games? The brilliant young researcher Rik Clay met a tragic and early demise shortly after he began peeling back the myriad of esoteric layers associated with the various venues as geomantic tributes to fallen gods of other times. He had stumbled upon a grid of unholy geometry. We all owe him a great debt of thanks.
My friend Ellis Taylor has been tracking world events leading up to the Olympics as part of a greater pattern of occult momentum, using 2012 and the illusion of linear time as a techno-grid of perpetual enslavement in time. If you have not been following Ellis around this, you need to. He has a brilliant newsletter that he puts out to support his work. And, he’s a great and loving guy.
Since Rik and Ellis have broken ground on XXX, the web is abuzz with the utter bizarreness of the games. Missile turrets rest on rooftops throughout London. There are expected to b over 14,000 troops on the streets. They’ve had some “terrorists” already nabbed as a sort of pre-crime activity, a sub-conscious sublingual slipped in between football scores and page two knockers. So people are already thinking and primed along these lines. Programming. Meanwhile amidst the spectacle of these games, Jubilee and the royal wedding, LIBOR cracks open and portends to make Madoff’s caper look like chump change. Nothing distends the belly of the beast like more toxic debt.
Meanwhile the vice of austerity tightens in Spain and tens of thousands take to the streets in epic protests. But you’d never know, unless you hang out with me and my FB friends that pass this stuff around like candy-coated communion wafers. Big things are happening but you have to pay attention.
In my newsletter, I noted that at the start of the opening ceremonies, Perseus will be low on the horizon in the sky. Perseus is of course the first of the hero gods and the founding member of the twelve Olympians. Hmmmm. Twelve Olympians . . . . Can you say astrology? Perseus would then become Aries, so theoretically, Aries/Perseus, god of war/hero opens the games in his descent from Olympus. Let the games begin!
The opening ceremonies are, ahem, unique to say the least. The great Danny Boyle (Trainspotting, Slumdog Millionaire) is orchestrating them. It starts with a return to druidic England, transporting an English countryside, straight out of the mists of Avalon, with a scaled-down-version of the Tor right into Olympic stadium. Since England seems to be high on Blake at the moment, this would be the equivalent of “innocence” in the Blakean cosmology. This version of England is edenic, pastoral and dreaming in a primal unity, unblemished the ravages modernity and the poverty of the human spirit. Well that changes in act two.
Channelling yet more Blake, Boyle re-animates England’s “Dark Satanic Mills” in place of the slumbering druidic paradise. This is where the athletes, the elite physical blood of the planet will take part in the procession, coursing through the center of what looks like a bombed out planet, strewn with the flotsam and jetsam of the industrial age. Girders and beams are painted everywhere to symbolize the base metals of creation, the scattered remains of a covert alchemy, turning the lead of labor into the gold of dynasties. Zoom out a bit and they appear to be a network of scars across a darkened world.
Then we have the obligatory obelisk masquerading as a giant chimney. Then there’s what appears to be a black madonna at an angle resembling a trine across from it. Cutting through is the serpentine path of procession. There’s other stuff in there as well; gears and machinery that put England on the map, as well as a giant Capt. Hook head on a coil, springing up from an oversized bed as a tribute to Peter Pan. Okayyyyyy.
This would all fall into Blake’s mode of “experience.” From innocence, to experience, to imagination. The games themselves would theoretically be the act of imagination, the crowning achievement of an esoteric algorithm, a secret code for a very uncertain future. And who will sing us into that future? Why none other than Ian Iachamoe aka Percy Thrillington, aka The Fireman, aka Sir Faul himself. Yes, how could we not have a Gemini appear when Jove in the heavens above has donned the Janus mask of comedy and tragedy?
McCartney will sing, “Hey Jude.” One interpretation of Jude is St. Jude, one of the apostles, the one you pray to during the hardest and most difficult of times. He is often depicted as having his head enflamed in holy fire, a symbol of illumination. Of course, there’s Judas, the so-called betrayer. Jude also references “Judea” and the English have been on a Blake kick lately, especially as it relates to Blake’s “New Jerusalem” which was reverently sung at the royal wedding.
Is the XXX Olympics the consecration of the New Jerusalem? If so, what happens to merry olde London town? Does the old have to be destroyed to make way for the new?
On a darker, metaphysical plane, where ancient occult practices get a technological makeover, there are those that believe these Olympics are designed to capture soul energy. From the bizarre structure that looks like human DNA encased in some sort of ectoplasmic web (which supposedly imbued with some form of technology to convert emotion into energy) to the psychic drama of the games themselves, the possibility to tap into soul energy, via emotional channels is there. Is that what these Olympics are all about?
Is it about America’s vestal virgin, hurdler Lolo Jones, who has her solar return (8/5) on the day she’s supposed to qualify for the 100 meter hurdles, her race? Jones has a Sun/Moon opposition (Leo/Aquarius). The fixed polarity might have something to do with being 29 and still being a virgin. She’ll have Saturn crossing over her Pluto in Libra on race day. Maybe in a fit of passion she’ll succumb to the temptations of the flesh in the Olympic village and scuttle the dark plans to use her as a symbolic sacrifice (if you can believe the internets).
If you need to know anything about the Olympic village, its that they stock them with more condoms than power bars. Perhaps it would be one instance where a merciful act of God would manifest in the flesh as one of Lolo’s weaker moments and save the world.
Maybe its about Oscar Pistorious, aka “Blade Runner” the first trans-humanist Olympian, using his springy ortho-prosthetics in lieu of feet to race in the 400 meter really for Brazil.
Then there’s “The Project Blue Beam” angle and the fake alien invasion, or maybe, just maybe, its channeling other Grecian deities like Prometheus, stealing fire from the gods in the guise of the Olympic torch itself, defiantly re-enacting the epic run to marathon and the announcement of some superior species that also happens to be our creators. I mean who brought the Olympics to you anyway? Mere mortals?
What do I think will happen? Well, aside from a lot of weirdness and human drama, I don’t think anything apocalyptic will take place, though if it does, I would look to the 2nd with the Full Moon in Aquarius. This, ironically would match-up with Jones’ own Sun/Moon opposition.
In spite of 200,000 casket liners supposedly on hand, I think its essential for them to have their closing ceremonies, which will be orchestrated by Es Devlin, who conjures up stagecraft for the likes of Gaga, Jay-Z, Kanye, and Muse. I don’t think they’ll let this opportunity pass them by and London in flames would crimp that party.
Lastly, Brazil is the next stop on the Olympic circuit and Brazil is the new Atlantis. The World Cup along with the Olympics will be Brazil’s coming out party.
So, I have done my job here or at least I’d like to think so. I’ll tell you this though. I’d be careful about watching the Olympics with all of the channeling and programming going on, you might just have your soul sucked right out of your eyeballs (just kidding).
But the real star of the show is the Sun, which just launched an X-Class flare in our direction, flinging complex arrays of neutrinos and solar plasma across the solar system, switching on our DNA, activating the real God particle. Things are happening, trust me. I’m seeing old scars dissolve in the spiritual heat of the inner light. Deep, painful patterns and complexes are melting like waxen trolls, holographic totems that have dwelt under the bridges of our pain for eons. Its happening and while the noise and chaos of dollar collapse and the rumble of war stir at the near boundaries of conscious awareness, that is not the real story.
Its really more akin to the “good news” as Christians say when referring to end times and the arrival of the savior. Its coming, hell, it might already be here, but it may not show up the way you think. I’m witnessing miracles on almost a daily basis and we’re reaching the point where dissipative structures are dancing in diffusion, passing electric joy from the solar godhead, from porous membrane to pourous membrane. We’re becoming natural agents of bio-luminescence. That’s why it all seems so dark at present. Hang in there, be brave and don’t sign any major contracts during MR, especially in the very fixed sign of Leo. I’d like to personally thank everyone that has been contributing. Its inspired me to write even more. Check out the latest radio show as well, with the amazing Sonja Grace.