Kinght Owl speaking with Valya at 0111 hrs
It is what it is,
A kind Owl,
33 degrees North of South,
East of West,
Smack dab in the middle
Of all the rest.
-Ilya
May, 2010
28
May 10
Gift for the 13th Apostle
Well… you made a delicate impression on me last night… further deepened my conviction of your fluid strength.
Artemis was in her full glory wearing a sheer red robe through the city haze, and Zeus was lacerating the land with playful rage, or was it Thor? But your eyes sparkled like a snake in the jaws of a wolf.
I have a gift for you:
I give you a box wrapped with exquisite handmade Japanese rice paper from the northern mountains.
Scripted on the paper in pure black ink are delicate scrolls painted with a brush made from the softest unicorn hair bristles. The scrolls are a language without logic, liminals into trellised unconscious cauldrons.
The box itself is made from aged and seasoned ash wood salvaged from the wreckage of the Spaniard seabird that brought the Black Irish ashore, bearing red black and white standard at mast.
The box is lined with handwoven Venetian velvet cut from the hidden Medici mushroom robe…still holding its perfume of teak wood and blood incense in the darkened chamber of illumination form that fateful night.
And inside this box you will find your gift: You.
-Iliad Alexander Terra
28
May 10
Gravitas
Socio-political gravitas! with logarithmic implications…
Multiply or Divide to achieve result using the paradigm of constructed formations.
Fall into formation or disengage from formation to achieve requisite flow of social patterns forming fluid dynamic symbols.
Inform or dis-inform, coalesce or disperse using culture and pleasure-pain-based logos mechanisms…
27
May 10
Quantum 12
Rebuttal:
M,
I like J.F., but he’s only one side of this proverbial 12-sided coin.
You do bring tremendous value and I appreciate it.
But you bring more: a passion and conviction that will project with our target audience. This is why you have a section of your own on this periodical and it’s well suited for your approach.
As for your input please never stop. I have high regard for your opinion but at the end of the day we will have to move the show forward. We can’t stay on one node forever. It’s a fast moving project and increasingly so.
Target audience: yes! disgruntled patriots.
But also: the inquisitive, the playful, the lost and the hopeless. The master and his slaves and the manipulators in the cave.
…The expats and outsiders looking in, and anybody whose pulse quickens when the truth is revealed.
And truth is not only political. It’s subliminal, metaphysical, farcical and anything in between. And it certainly is not according to their version only, nor yours, nor mine.
Above the Executive Branch is the Board of Directors. Above it are the torn pieces of the constitution and the preamble, held as currency bait for the hapless masses, and above all that are the umm, Nephilim?
And well the more you look at it the more it becomes molecular and then quantum.
Quantum 12, the apostles, the zodiacal clock, the rhythm of the moon, and the dance of the new Sun. Where do you draw the line on the propaganda and accept the rest as truth?
Not meaning to sound off the beaten path, but the harder you look at what you’re shown, the less it makes sense.
Conspiracy theory my foot! If you disagree with them, well then, you’re a kook or a conspiracy theorist…
So we probe. Is there even a sovereign nation? Are nations vestiges of a syntax that is outmoded? Is the the State sovereign over the Indivi-dual?
Let’s have conspiracy theorists and conspiracy busters.
Let’s have a Tea Party and then turn around and have a Coffee Party and then go to the terrace and have Mushroom Party and dance with the Pope, while the tea-baggers gag!
It’s not about the media nor about information — why in the heck must we fall “in formation” to begin with? Whose form is it anyhow? Form? Nor is it about the truth because that presupposes existence of a lie. “I am” does not contain dualities in its dialectic.
However, it is about a razor-blade to the eye allowing the third eye to see what is unseen!
Your job is to examine patriotism and its use. Dig deep and create that razor-blade, cut to the core, see what you find…
OK I’m sitting here on my ass in a dive eating crap before a date with a Russian killer.
-Ilya
17
May 10
Beauty and Three Sisters
God's whisper, 1800 hours, May 17th 2010
a true story…
YESTERDAY:
God moves over waters, like a whisper.
In the morning a squirrel crossed my path, and stood in the middle of the road. I had to swerve to avoid it.
Half a mile further another squirrel crossed my path, it stopped in the middle of the road. I had to swerve once again to avoid it.
I was startled, this had never happened to me before.
It crossed my mind that if it were to happen a third time, I would take it as a sign.
A mile further down the road, while passing a road named Three Sisters, a third squirrel crossed my path, and likewise stood in the middle of the winding road. I had to swerve once more…
Valena: “Jesus wanted to die; Judas needed to kiss him.”
Ilya: “Yes, and Pontius Pilate should not have suffered such guilt. The Master was right.” The words had not left Ilya’s lips when it occurred to him that his own “Judas” had liberated him, that he had carried his own cross…and that now at last the beatitude of the world entire had begun to grace him. Inadvertently Valena had given him a gift, she had asked for light but ended up given radiance instead…
BEFORE:
Valena: “I would not have stopped to ask you guys for light…the last person I asked for light, was a person who was on the 12th floor in a meeting with two other guys in the only building that did not collapse in Port-au-Prince, a Creole from Chantilly. The energy that person was emitting was the answer to the previous question I had…that building did not collapse only because that person was there, not the other way around.”
TODAY:
I woke up early this morning to diffused light. The blinds were pulled up and I could see outside.
Not more than five feet away from my window, in the drizzle, stood a deer, looking through the window… looking at me.
I slowly propped myself on my elbow and stared at her in wonder.
She maintained my gaze in that manner for nearly fifteen minutes, broken only momentarily when she lowered her head to nibble on blades of wet grass a couple times.
Mil: “It’s Totemic, in the rain, it’s clear communication…”
I: “Celtic, Runic?”
4 girls, 1800 hours May 17th
AFTER:
I deiced to venture out with the guardian of memories, bearer of witness, Mr. Canyon Terra, and search for dappled stars in the raindrops. He feasted on moist shoots of tall grass…
I: ” There is no joy better than a dog running through tall grass…”
Dad: As he lay dying in his deathbed, with a hint of smile, “If only you’d be so fortunate” – 2001
-Iliad Alexander Terra,
May 17th 2010
Mr. Canyon Terra, Knight Templar, guardian of witness, May 17, 2010