Hot News ~Mme. Sossostris MIA With Bad Boy Crowley!

Mme. Sososstrus, the lady who never spells her name the same way twice, out and about, before going missing in action, with “Bad boy” Crowley.

Dear reader, I don’t want you to be too alarmed, but I must inform you that our beloved Mme. Soss, who we met recently at her energetic and ectoplasmagorific seance session, and have quickly grown to love in that special way one reserves for ones’ cult leader, has gone missing in action.

Where we first met her; it seems there was an Akashic record generated from the seance, which you can click on the above image, to attend in that dimension, if you weren’t one of the lucky few to attend it at the original “Teeny Tiny Theatre” productions house

She’s a bundle of energy, so we have come to expect all kinds of energetic feats from her, but this one seems to be to be beyond the precipice, in terms of courting danger.

A missive left in my bedroom wardrobe, transmitted, like most of Mme. S’s missives, etherially, via automatically channeled communications, has arrived. Two actually. The first was an “Out of Office” message, in response to my request, last Friday, that she author the first issue of my Newsletter for me, since I would be too busy editing my blockbuster novel, in preparation for its release into the wilds of Amazon, shortly. That didn’t worry me too much, and I had my new secretary, Q, run up a short editorial piece for the maiden voyage of said newsletter, as Plan B. He’s good with plans, though I have to admit, I wondered whether he’d get it sent out on time, since he’s missed quite a few deadlines before, I noticed (I hired him mostly for his tea making abilities). I wasn’t too worried at first, and must admit, was thinking mostly of myself, rather than Mme. S’s safety, as I was unaware at the time of who she was spending the weekend with,and where she was headed. Imagine my shock, then, upon being informed, when my new secretary delivered the tea things to my study, as I set about my evening’s work, editing “The Q Affaire” for publication, and, while taking my first sip of his rather well made tea, (surprising, since I have rather severe doubts that Q is Irish, as he claims, so the tea should not be that good) that the rumour was Mme. S had been planning to abscond for the weekend with the abhorrent Mr. Crowley, a right little demon, if past rumours are anything to go by (and many do swear by rumours). This Mr. Crowley, though technically deceased, is said to be very much still at large in the spirit world, and always circling, seeking out upstanding women to corrupt utterly. Q had won the confidence of Mme. Sossostrus, who is always putty in the hands of men who can wink charmingly, or tell pretty stories of the intellectual or poetic type, I noticed, and apparently she confided in him her weakening resolve in trying to resist Crowley’s Bad boy charms, before her disappearance.

I can hardly bear to think about it still, the shock on reading the missive shown above, that materialised in my wardrobe this morning. I had to get Q to decode it, before I could make any sense of it , but it’s clear she’s in over her head with Crowley, and was lucky to be able to convey a message to me without being detected via remote mind-reading, or penetrating insight of some other magical means, by the cunning Crowley with the silver tongue, that tempted her to travel abroad, with him her only escort. A poor choice, which one would think she might have spent longer pondering, since even the destination set all sorts of spiritual alarum bells ringing in the head. I largely blame myself, I must say, for leading her astray, and I see Crowley as merely a spirited opportunist, who leapt at the open portal when he saw his chance to jump on Mme. S, who he’s fancied getting his claws into for a while now, according to herself. Why am I to blame? Well, I was talking about volcanos a lot recently, and ziggarats, and Tarot, and generally going into the mystic a bit, and Mme. Soss gets easily enthused by such topics. Indeed, she dropped by several times to hold impromtu meetings of her new cult, The Order of The Heart, at my hearth, and, between the fire, and all the talk of volcanos, not to mention sacred shrines with snakes interred underground, and slithering about as shapeshifting rivers and Garden of Eden dwelling tempters, I fear the temptation was all to much for her adventurous side, and she gave in to her hedonistic impulses, and travelled to the volcano with him. Yes. That’s right. They went to the volcano together. I have a feeling she won’t be the same woman when she returns, but she’s full of surprises at the best of times, so we probably won’t be able to tell. I imagine she will though, even if it takes a while for the full story to emerge. I mean, would you be able to talk about it, straight after you had a week away at a volcanic eruption with the bold Mr. Crowley? I wouldn’t think so, somehow.

Update: She’s back. I’m glad of that, because not only was I worried about her getting a bit too close to the action, in Iceland, but I was also getting worried she might be too far from it, since she’d promised to edit this weekend’s edition of the Newsletter, and make herself available at the launch of the new TarotTime Team , over at the Etsy shop. She swept in yesterday, in fine fettle, ready for more fun, and soon the *ESQ method Tarot service was announced, in our snazzy new poster that Q threw some glitter and glue at, all available to initiates and non-initiated alike, at an out of this world low price. I even threw a coupon in the basket for new customers, I was in such a good mood, after being let use the glitter glue gun for a while. Mme. Sossostrus assures me that having glue stuck in your hair just makes the readings more auspicious, and downright fun, which sounds right to me, since anything Mme. S gets involved in always ends up being a lot of fun.

The TTT Team’s ESQ method is an ancient Kookistani Tarot technique, taught by Mme. S’s “Order of the Heart” one-woman cult Hermetic Order . A triad of initiates reveal your past, present, and future lives, if you cross their palms with silver (or any currency Etsy accepts). Claim your reading here (money off coupon available for misers)

Mme. Sossostrus plans to update us further, in the Newsletter editorial, regarding what new things she learned in her travels last weekend, as well of a reminder of what we new initiates have learned to date, by means of another podcast this weekend, featuring her best bits (oh, I do hope we are up to it, but I’m by no means confident we will be!), as well as belting out the weekend Newletter for us. She’s all heart, that woman. You can order your Newletter here, if you can handle it. First issue guest authored by Q!

Mme. Sosostrus ~Divinely Pr{o}postrous

Have you met the divine Mme. Sosostrus yet? She’s preposterous, and yet…..such fun. She’s quite the character, and seems unable to pronounce, let alone spell, her own name. Still, she has all this weird knowledge, she claims, from these Kookistani people that nobody else seems to have heard of. She’s pretty vague about their whereabouts, but Mme. S lives half way up a local mountain, with a troop of Capuchin monkeys for company, and only ventures abroad down the town, on Alice the bike, when out of Uisce Beatha, apparently, or when there’s a chance of some silver crossing her palm. Oh, there’s a piano half way up there, too, which, by her own account, they gather ’round in the evenings, to knock out a tune or two on.

We’ve heard her singing, unfortunately, at a recent seance we had. As a writer, I seek out these Kooks, to help me cook up new books, and Mme. S was quite the hoot, as she literally threw herself into finding the ghost myself and Mr. Poxley-Warner dreamed up. With all this free entertainment, and barely containable mirth, we almost forgot teeny Foxley Poxley’s wailing for the evening. The only dark spot on the ectoplasmic spectacles was the fact that that Donna Emerald beat me to making art out of the pig’s ear that Sosostrus made of the performance, by publishing a play of her own. The pigeon post must have been intercepted, or some malicious spirit put the evening’s entertainment gossip about via secret twitching curtain coded signals, or teatime tattling, down the local cafe. Still, there’s a book and several dramatic paintings in it still, I suspect. Plenty of time for clearing up the mouse remains from the cooker, too. One can’t rush art, and she’s such an inspiration.

This will be available as a podcast soon.

We Scare Because We Care!

I was in the mood for a movie matinee, it bein’ Friday and all. I’d had a monstrous week, and needed a good laugh to restore me, so this animated favourite came to mind immediately. Full of tips with how to deal with the monsters we all have to face, and even make friends with some of them. Lots of helpful tips on what to do when a  monster  screams in your face, or a chameleon suddenly reveals his true colours for you to see (they are rather grey underneath all the flashy costumes  they wear to blend in, apparently).  If you are plagued with monster visits, and all else fails, bear in mind that they are far more scared of you than you should ever be of them; to rid yourself permanently of them, carry out the 2319 manoeuvre. This move is a monster’s worst nightmare come true, and guarantees that they’ll run back to the  closet they emerged from. You have to keep your socks on in bed for this one, but I think you’ll agree, it’s a small price to pay!

Click on image to play Monsters, Inc. movie, or click on highlighted text below image.
Hint: It’s a free movie site, so you’ll have to be as quick to shut down the ad windows that open before the movie will play, as you would be to slam your closet door on Rotten Randall here.

Ancient Fnordic Meme Culture (exciting new finds!)

 

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Free Illuminatus Trilogy Download (Robert Shea, Robert Anton Wilson 1975), and free Principia Discordia Download

 

This reblog of the week explores the Fnordic Culture of the Discordian Tribe of Eris. My own recent digging around has unearthed a few old but new gems, including this scroll of wisdom, shown below, describing how the Aani myths relate to the chaotic origins of Discordia, and the legends of Eris, the Goddess of strife and thingimy-bobs of a messy nature, described first by the fed-up philosopher Richard Dawkins, which blossomed into the later memes of the post-post-classical meltdown period. Confused? Good. You are starting to get the fnord of the thing. Read on, for further illumination.

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Tudismocroned blog – :::Aani Memetized Chaos

Bonus material to further melt your mind: Schrodinger’s Cat summary

Discordian YouTube Connections? I’ve often suspected there’s a large area of cross-over, but never been able to definitively prove anything. And just look at the bother one can get into, speculating on things without proof. Defango recommends Tarl Warwick‘s (Styx hexenhammer666′s) book on Occult Memetics on a recent video. Interestingly, Tarl Warwick is also the editor of this little tome. He must be a busy guy, as he is also running for the position of Governer of Vermont this year. How fnordy is that. If you are worried about demon infestation issues from reading the Grimoire, you could stick to the Discordian version, which you probably won’t catch demons off, unless you consider a fit of the giggles evil.

Callypian Grimoire
Good book for rainy days

TheGrandGrimoire
The Grand Grimoire, Edited by Tarl Warwick

Sigh. I’ll probably never get to the bottom of the entanglements of ideas that criss-cross through meme culture. Meanwhile……..

My New Job, and a Meeting With Mr. Mesmer

I just got a new job, which I am pretty excited about. For some strange reason I couldn’t get along with anyone in the last post, and the job before that too. They wouldn’t even give me a reference, but I told my new boss I was disabled, and they would be discriminating against someone with a learning disability, Tourette’s Syndrome, and a mixed black heritage, and they gave me the job, ‘cos I threatened to sue. It would be a cushy number, if it weren’t for the people I have to meet. God, how I hate people. All my experiences with them are very odd indeed. What’s their bloody issue? Now f$ck off, and stop bothering me. Can’t you see I’m on my break?

 

…..and other stuff.

Glaciers

John Grant’s ‘Glacier’. A great song about pain. This post is dedicated to Dave, my best bud, who put me on to John Grant’s stuff. Now follow me, you b*stard.

Here he is with the Czars, singing another one I love, ‘Angel Eyes’. He brings different layers of meaning to the original.

He can be awfully funny at times, when he is not depressed. Try this out. Bet you know one of these types.

If you love him as much as I do, here’s a whole album for you. Cool.

 

Sunday Night Fever

Hey groovy guys and gals. It’s Sunday night and I feel like getting ma groove on. Sunday’s a day for chilling out and gettin’ the good vibes goin’, and after doing some Tai Chi with a friend in the morning, and taking a nice stroll in the woods in the afternoon……..

Athena and Winnie sketch
Athena and Winnie Walk in the Woods Donna Emerald 2018 #TheWhiteGoddess

I curled up with a good book, and guess what, I fell asleep, as so often happens on a Sunday, when one has had such a busy week. I love nodding off with a book in my hand.

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Q Luther Blisset Photo Donna Emerald

 

 

 

 

 

 

I was in such a good mood when I woke up that I thought a little dance around the living room was in order after dinner. I came across this great tutorial, and I thought I’d share it with you here. So kick off your shoes, and let’s see how MC Hammer does it, then we’ll try it ourselves. Funky, funky.

You got it, baby. You is busting out those moves now, and tearing up that dance floor. You are ready to earn your place with the all time greats of Soul Train. Get up! Look out for Chaka khan in this top 10.

Sunday Sermon, anyone? Secret Jesuit Teachings

The greatest cross in the world is to be without a cross’. These are the words of the famous Jesuit preacher Bishop Fulton J. Sheen, a popular lecturer on a wide range of topics. Bishop Fulton’s humour  and knowledge on a wide range of insightful topics made him popular with Sunday Catholic TV audiences in the 50s. His series of shows begins with a sermon on

‘HOW TO PSYCHOANALYZE YOURSELF’

Bend the knee, pull up a pew in the comfort of your own home, and get ready to take notes (or just write the best jokes down; you’re allowed laugh in this chapel), because I guarantee he will hypnotize you with his riveting sermons. Or just switch channels and watch cartoons instead.

The Big Movie

Ok, so Christmas is over, and the cheesy decorations are down. The extra pounds and broken resolutions are all that remain. But you can still loll about on the weekends in your pyjamas, and if it looks like it’s not going to stop raining ’till June, never fear, ‘cos the internet’s here.

When I was a kid ‘Now, Voyager’ was one of my favourite ‘girl’ movies, the sort of movie I used to always miss the first few minutes of on Saturday afternoons, when my big brother used to try to switch the station on me, and I used to silently hope there wasn’t a cowboy movie on the other station. The heroine in this one had an even tougher time with her mum than I had with my brother, and I was delighted with the twists and turns of the story, which is shown in full below. Leave your brain in the off position and enjoy the afternoon matinee. As for you lads out there, leave that button alone.
Click here to see movie

bette-davis-on-crawford
Image: reneelouise21.wordpress.com

 

Favourite  moment: “Don’t ask for the moon – we have the stars.”

Read Bette Davis’s story here

 

Book at Bedtime

sleep

Heading to bed with your mug of Ovaltine? Finished that novel and looking for something to snuggle up with. You can’t beat a chuckle at bedtime, and David Sedaris tells some of the funniest stories out there. Here are ten of the best.
Listen to David Sedaris’ stories online

Too sleepy even for that? Not ready for bed, but up for something different? Garrison Keiller is one of the funniest guys out there, and his radio show,  ‘A Prairie Home Companion’ is a modern classic, full of nostalgia for a way of life lots of us never knew.

Click this link to listen.

Nite, nite. Sleep tight.