Down here in Somerset, many of the birds are pairing and nesting, while the creamy curds of the May blossoms are already out on the boughs on the faery thorns. People are happily chirping away about the joys of an early Spring. However, that the season should be “early” is no random coincidence. If the Church was still in tune with the natural rhythm of the Land, as were the earlier Celtic monks, they would know that true Easter (named after the Saxon goddess, Oestre) should be next week because this season of celebrating fertility has always been on the first Full Moon after the Spring Equinox, which is around 1.00 am GMT on March 21st, this year.
We are all familiar now with the famous Tunnel from those who come back from the Realms of the Dead and recount their near death experiences. But another common factor in these accounts, and yet one that is little reported, is the overwhelmingly ecstatic feeling of love that surrounds them during their brief sojourn to the Other Side. And far from them coming under the harsh judgement of a Jehovah-type God who sternly weighs their “sins” in the balance, there is only a gentle self-assessment, which is often kindly supported by their ancestral spirits, that informs their view about whether or not it would be the wisest course to return into an often broken, and thus painful, human form, because their “appointments” on that rung of The Ladder of the Wise had not yet been met.
Many who return to This Side find that their new realisations cause their life to change, and they take up new interests – and sometimes new trainings and new professions – in order to better align themselves with their life’s purpose. This is all to the good. However, it is a little-known fact that one can reach the Other Side without going through the death experience, and it is by following a technique I call the Ecstasy of the Heart.
The magic of the Sovereignty of the Land has long been hidden from us by many means, screens and schemes, and one way of preventing us from dis-covering it has been to change the meaning of words. For instance, let us consider the word ‘history’. ‘History’ actually comes from the 12th century Norman ‘histoire’, which in that language meant ‘story’. Thus, when discussing ancient ‘histoires’ we are dealing with a story that may or may not be true. However, it doesn’t matter for our magical purposes because, as I always say, the only difference between mythology and history is that myths are true, by which I mean that “history” is usually written by the victors who are bound to put a spin on their recorded events, but “mythology” contains deep and eternal truths that always remain true.
And so by engaging with what we believe to be history is, in effect, entering cognitively into the fabric that made up the consensual reality of our ancestors, and no matter how much the transcribers and translaters have, over time, taken that fabric, and cut and tailored it into different suits, jackets and dresses, the mythological truth still remains evident, in the weave, to those who have the eyes to see it. Continue reading
In my last blog article, I described how the “Zionists” had stolen the clothes of the Jews. But I don’t want us to get stuck on that term when it comes to recognising this globalist enemy to the health, wealth and Sovereignty of nations. If we take a more zoomed-out view of history, we can see that they are masters of disguise and subterfuge in which they infiltrate the highest echelons of power in countries, in order to plunder the wealth of the indigenous peoples who they then turn into human shields and battering rams to fight in their war games, sometimes with each other. Their favourite weapons with which to weaken and enslave whole nations are drugs, pornography and debt – in other words, addiction.
These globalists have only been calling themselves Zionists since the late 19th century. They realised then that, although they owe no allegiance to any race or nation, it would be useful to have their own chunk of land from which to launch their expansionist operations into the Middle East, rather like having your own huge, stationary aircraft carrier on the shores of the Mediterranean.
Once we understand the codes in the great masterpieces preserved in the churches, abbeys and cathedrals, then it becomes clear that these symbols are a series of still-life tableaus forming a narrative about the alchemical process of the transformation of metals, with ourselves as the crude lead.
Each metal is assigned a god or goddess to encapsulate their qualities, and we can see these characteristics writ large in the classical Greek dramas featuring the gods and goddesses of Mount Olympus.
Where do we go when all the stories fail?
All the stories are failing. Fewer and fewer want to go and sit in big, draughty buildings with high ceilings – no matter how beautifully fan-vaulted – to hear them anymore. The picture below shows the purpose-made wooden pews of the 12th century church of St John the Baptist in Glastonbury, Somerset. Last week, they went to auction to be sold off to the highest bidder.
To the Druids, long before Christianity, Christmas was about the Birth of the Faery Babe, or Radiant Child. This is the story that I see being played out what other people call the Glastonbury Zodiac on the Somerset Levels, a 10-mile wide circular landscape temple where the “stars have fallen to the Earth” to create 13 giant earthworks – as the map shows below: