Q’s always on his phone, up to something, and you’d think he’d have been happy enough, posting away for me, about “The Q Affaire” book, now that he’s been promoted from Tea Intern (Q insists he’s a “Tea Operative”, but whatever). No, tho’, that’s not enough to keep him out of mischief, and he’s back recruiting boymen, down on the boards, and little boys too, for his Stoneage troll training farm, not so cleverly disguised as a puzzle. I told him. I said, Q, you start this nonsense up again, with your rubbishy recycled bits of things the magpies dropped in the bushes, I’ll be pulling out your tentpoles, and you can go pitch your droopy tent in some other kindhearted fool’s garden. I’m not helping you train little boys how to steal real men’s identities, before they’ve even got their first girlfriend.
Maybe they have some chance of meeting a nice girl, if they don’t hang out with you, and become trolls, but I know I don’t want them doing what you did, “borrow” a decent man’s identity, to chat up a decent woman, then threaten her with an army of trolls, when she finds out what a sad little boy you are.
He wasn’t happy; but he sees me as a mother figure (I know, it’s complicated), so he looked suitable chastised, with tears welling up in his likkle eyes, at the thought of being tent-pegless, and having to make his way down the river of no return, to camp in someone else’s mommie’s garden. Kids. Whattaya gonna do? He’s out in the tent, sulking, with a big pile of “Punisher” comics, from the Stoneage, to keep him happy. They’ve even got puzzles in the back, which should keep him going tonight, when he’s no internet to post on the boards from. I shall be keeping an eye on my “Tea Operative”, as I don’t trust him in business ventures, if he’s not grown up enough to behave himself. Shame. He’s actually a pretty good secretary (sips tea). Maybe there’s hope for him, He tore off one of the incriminating puzzle posts, and ate it, to destroy the evidence, and I helpfully tore out the other puzzle page , so he wouldn’t choke on the rest.
I also had to give him THE LOOK. It ain’t easy, being an employer and a mommie, to Q. When he’s finished his comics, I may eventually return his phone, but only if he’s a good boy.
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A is for apple, b is for balloon, but what is Q for? Well, there have been a lot of queer guesses about the recent origins of the 17th letter of the alphabet, and to some it’s still just a letter. To others it’s a whole way of life they don’t want to lose. A kind of modern tradition, with a lot of symbolism involved. But where did Q come up with all these symbols, is the Question?
One of the answers that might strike you as having some clout is Qabalah. What if Q stands for Qabalah? Now, hear me out. I know Q pretty much put himself forward as a traditional Christian, holdy-handsy type, who enjoys singing around the campfire in kinship with like-minded clean-livin’ Jesus believers, before trooping off to a giant sleeping bag together. Their dream, if we believe what they told us, is about the defeat of the evil Cabal by the forces of the “goodies” troops, who have boots firmly planted on the ground, worldwide, led by the good ol’ USA, who are so superior to everyone else, in, well, everything, really, having both an awesomely rich culture and deep historical roots, that the rest of the world is dreadfully jealous of. Luckily for the rest of us, they often get involved in wars in other countries, to help bring democracy to them. Kind of a “Call of Duty” thing, for them.
They were fully backed up, too, by General Flynn‘s digital army, Trumpeting out the good message like happy Tweety birds, in a new dawn chorus. Poor ol’ feller unfortunately may now have to repurpose his Defence Fund as a Dementia Fund, given that he’s not able to remember this happy Christian family moment, when he pledged allegiance to Q. Let’s pray he recovers his memory, as he might take up naked surfing, or somethin’, next. I suppose he could order a few pairs of shorts, assuming he’s let roam free, still, with his name and address printed on them, like the lady at the right of the picture has done, and the lady in the middle, to remind them who the president is (was) and where they live. Smart thinkin’, there, if it runs in the family. I don’t think it’s officially dementia until you can’t remember your bank account no., tho’, and I’m betting the ex-gen can-can. Personally, I’m surprised this photo was taken in the States, because previously I was under the impression that Americans only wore items with their clubs, counties, or country in big letters on the front, while abroad, in case Dementia or Alzhiemers set in while on a European holiday (Europe can do that to you).
The whole Q thing is right in line with a Qabalistic vision, though, with plenty of nodding to theosophy, and Steinerism, when you look into it a bit more, because the Illuminati that Q followers are so obsessed with were very much a feature in much of the lore about Qabalistic studies as well. Imaginations pretty much started running amok on the fantasy end of things, right after the Jews were unceremoniously ejected from Spain, in the 15th Cent., for being Jewish, and scapegoating became a popular way of blaming everyone for your own sh1t you didn’t want to own, long before that, with a rich historical tradition of scapegoating to be discovered in lots of different cultures, throughout recorded history. The Qabalah’s origins are as obscure and shady as Q’s, after he hi-jacked the 17th alphabet letter for his good vs evil fairytale, and are difficult to unravel and examine, because of the mix of influences, between popular culture and mythological/historical references. The number 17, for example, turns up lots of places, and it would be a little Discordian to think that all the things in the real world that these numbers point to, in Qabalistic terms, have a correspondence. Yet, some of the things do actually have people in common, and points of similarity between them, and it bugs me to have to admit that we may never know who started the whole Q larp, since there were so many involved, and the various strands form a veritable spider web, which I’m betting those who originally thought up the concept, are quite glad their prey got tangled up in to the point of not being able to see their way clear to disentangling the sticky mess. Many would like to have their guts for garters, at this stage, and I’ve never been a fan, since that time Q threatened to send his army after me.
Some strands, like religious and Qabalistic style numerology, worked into elements of Q’s online posts, added the air of mystique and fun puzzle elements that a sheep might want to put together of a dull evening, with the rest of the flock, while not really seeing what the whole picture looks like, when you are standing a bit further back from it, and aren’t a wooly headed sheep. The posts work on creative, associative type thinking, rather than logic, which ruins the appeal altogether, to the flock (trust me on this; I’ve had my head figuratively bitten off, by Q, for arguing logically with him, over some of the sillier points he made). You can read about the more humorous bits in my new novel, “The Q Affaire”, out on Amazon, if you prefer to read about ridiculous arguments, rather than be in them.
While Q didn’t exactly claim his posts were channeled through the prophet Abraham, or anything like that (Q, make outlandish claims, as if?), some of the literature his ideas were probably based on doesn’t exactly have a terribly reliable provenance, unless you see narratives as equivalent to the realities they signify.
Carrying out Qabalistic studies are a bit like reading the bible; if you are taking it too literally you might be doing it all wrong. It’s a creative tool for thinking, and Q uses it like that, but treats it like a big joke. The whole thing turned into a kind of “Infinite Jest” that doesn’t go away, as long as there are enough people taking it seriously. Really, someone should write a comedic novel about it; oh, wait, they have. I did, didn’t I, and I got quite a laugh out of writing about Q, having hung out with him for a while, and seen how he thinks, and the funny notions he gets? He likes a good book, I know; the bible I’m not so convinced about, given his behaviour, despite all his protestations to the contrary, but I remember how annoyed he was at my revealing his top secret code, developed around the book “The Neverending Story”, which he insisted I’d no permission to repeat. This, even after I pointed out that the “code” appeared at the back of the book, and he was even more annoyed when I pointed out that the writer was clearly influenced by Buddhism. He wasn’t having that. Perhaps that didn’t fit in so well with his less public beliefs? He didn’t say. I know he’s keen on Freemasons, mind you, so perhaps they just compare notes on concrete mixes, when they are having a natter. They don’t tend to tell the more mainstream Christians that, ‘cos why cast pearls before swine/sheep (although I’m no longer convinced there is such a thing, as I understand it, anyhow, in the US)? I suspect it’s angels on your shoulders, snakes underfoot, or nothing at all, over there. At one level, it seems rather pagan, but unconsciously so, if you get me. Same symbols, same hysteria, only no Wicker Man.
Q might have a well developed sense of humour, when it comes to laughing at others, who he refers to as “sheep”, in a joke that revolves around mirror reversals that he loves, but doesn’t always let on about…you see, the sheep he’s really referring to are the ones who believe him without questioning logically anything he presents as fact. The fact that most of his followers, while excellent at following him, were pretty useless at following any logical trains of thought, to analyse the nonsense they were force fed, to grasp that they were the ovines being referred to, not the “normies” they were encouraged to despise, along with the evil, baby eating/trafficking/sacrificing deep state Cabalists.
How hilarious, then, would it be if Q followers not only had to swallow the bitter pill of Q’s storm being a washout, but the further irony that Q wasn’t exactly the sort of Christian they thought he was? Mind you, they were given hints that there was a lot more dark than light about, in the shadow of Q, what with all the talk of hangings and lynchings that even the most Christian of followers didn’t seem to balk at. Satan would be shocked, and delighted, to see how Q kept the fires of hatred stoked up, in good Christian hearts.
Mirror reversals are one of Q’s Qabalistic tricks. Opposites, you see, are how the Qabalistic worldview works. Opposite polarities, bumping up against one another in a big clash, then transforming into something new. So, it’s perfectly OK, if you’re Q, to say you’re a Christian, but be into death and apocalypse because out of the destruction of something, comes something else you really want. And if you’re Q, you’re the goodie, so you are on the first boat ascending into the heavenly new world that awaits, and to hell with the sheep. They were just lambs to the slaughter, in the service of good. The means justify the ends, and all that jazz. I guess you have to be in an apocalyptic cult to appreciate how joyous thinking about that sort of thing can be. All the same, they did work rather hard to present themselves as the “goodies”, rather than the “baddies”, those QAnons.
Oh, great. The Apocalypse has arrived.
It sounds a bit unscientific, this theory, what with apocalypses and sheep running about to escape being rounded up for a nefarious agenda, which only starts with the fleecing of assets, but wait up, because there are numbers to back it up. Proof. There’s even a special clock, which was further proof that it was an exquisitely designed mechanism that even the divine watchmaker would have been wishing he’d thought up himself, or at least not have had to work through earthly agents to set in motion. More reflections of the perfection of the above, into the waters of the earth below, on the face of the ticking clock of time, which bound Q to Trump in perfect, zero delta synchronicity, when they were really getting their mojo working.
It was pure magic to watch, when the apparently meaningless numbers and letters conjured up from Tweets and Qdrops created a Qabalistic correspondence of meaning, which totally escaped the flock, to the point where even Q’s “These people are stupid” phrase, no matter how many times repeated, didn’t sink in as having any possible reference to them. They just consulted their Gematria calculators online, and marvelled at the miraculous way their God was setting about putting the plan to hang and lynch folks of their choosing, into action, through them. Glory be. It’s good to be good. It’s also very nice to have scapegoats; people who do things so evil that you can feel great about hating them, and venting your own inner demon in their direction, thereby casting it out of you.
I didn’t make it to the end of the next video; I doubt even Gen. Flynn would manage to, on his most forgetful days, so don’t feel you have to wade through the whole thing to get the idea that you can pretty much throw anything at Gematria, and it sticks a variety of associative ideas together, in a psychoanalytic free-association type logic-free party for the mind.
The video above does demonstrate how Q thinking works, though, doesn’t it, pathetic as the results are, in terms of logical”proof” of anything, and it’s the same sort of associative thinking used in Qabalistic meditations, used for forging and exploring spiritual associations, on the paths that criss-cross the 10 nodes on the Qabalistic tree, describing the polarities in creation, echoed down below, on the earthly realm, from the spiritual, ideal realm above. The problem is, if you abandon logical thinking, you can end up almost anywhere, including the loony bin, if you aren’t careful. Perhaps this is just creative thinking, and a fanciful narrative over a bowl of whatever you like to put in your pipe of an evening, but some of the Q people took their wildest ideas quite seriously, was the impression I got, when they got the hump at people laughing at stuff like this, which is pretty tame, compared to some of the things I’ve heard Q followers say. At least flat earthers aren’t obsessed with blood and guts. They stick to being odd and irritating, rather than frightening and aggressive in their beliefs. Anything goes, though, when logic does, as anything’s possible, once the modern definition of science is chucked out.
Qabalistic study was not used for logic, really, at all, in our modern definitions of the term, but the Q posts, and the decoders, wanted to pretend it was all about logic, for them, while throwing random numbers into the thing, as though they had meaningful connections with the logical realm. The sheep loved the game, however, as it made the boring old field they were in rather more exciting, what with all this hidden stuff that you could scare yourself over, and go running around with the other sheep, baaahing about it. They’re still missing their shepherd Q, and the old herd, but the solution to missing something you didn’t have is pretending you did, and hanging onto the past, pretending it’s still a thing, when it isn’t. Logic, proof, justice, religion, shepherds, don’t count on any of them, if you don’t want to be a very disappointed and abandoned sheep, at the end of the day.
Last week, he was my temp. intern, helping out with the tea making, while I was editing the book, in the evenings. Now it’s hit the Amazon shelves, he’s given himself an upgrade, and let himself into a few of my social media accounts into the bargain. Still, there were some nice surprises, on launch day, including a recorded Q message. He may be a secret agent, but he’s coming out of his shell a lot. This book has done wonders for him, I tell ya!
I gotta hand it to ol’ Donna. When she sets her mind to something, she does it. For a little slip of a thing, she seems to have some big ideas about herself. Now take me (and I know you would like to – wink!) as an example; my big ideas about myself are all founded on the reality of my being an incredibly capable undercover agent. Donna’s ideas are founded on, well, Donna thinking, which I’ve never been able to fathom. This new book, though, may well provide the insight that months and months of intensive undercover surveillance failed to reveal. It’s funny as all hell, too. I wish she’d made me laugh this much when she was putting me through hell the first time.