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 at 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.

On the Knocking at the Gate in Macbeth (A Truth Convoy Halloween Horror Story)

Denise Matteau Truth Convoy gay jewish nazi cults

Some of my readers will remember Truth Convoy. She isn’t easy to forget, as she’s the lady that haunts YouTube’s dankest corridors, looking for folks to spook. These days, she seems to be the only one spooked, as she awaits a knock at the door of her Interior Castle, and rather like the drunken porter in Macbeth, the final knock may come when she’s sleeping, as it did, one afternoon recently.

Truth Convoy apartment
Truth Convoy’s first “Knock at The Door” livestream

The original livestream “Knock at the Door”, with a second of the same name up now, after the first being set to private, was a doozy, and 30 people got to hear the Halloween tale she told the Elderlemon Care person that called to her door to investigate claims of moldy walls and cockroaches, within the dark castle’s interior. In fact, we got a glimpse of one of the wee beasties, scampering up the wall, in alarum, when the stream went live suddenly.

The dead awoke from their drunken slumbers, and the rusty door hinges squeaked (well, not really, but I’m keeping to the spooky Halloween theme here), and the invader was held off from entering, ’till another day, with this tall tale (and, according to Truth Convoy, afterwards, a request for a warrant), before shuffling back inside, to get dressed, and set the stream on Private. I’ve summed up the wonderfully entertaining Halloween horror story told by Denise, here, in an abridged version, since it’s gone now, and you mightn’t have been able to follow it well, in the first place. What’s really scary is that I can follow her fancy horror stories at all, but she’s been telling the same story, with new actors, regularly. The plot features gay jewish nazis, forced abortions, and murder. Classic Halloween horror. Denise never disappoints, with her imagination.

My retelling of Denise’s story, the Halloween abridged version

If you are a glutton for horror, you may wish to hear the unabridged version, which is quite an old story, retold with embellishments, from a 2010 forum post, that she came across again recently, and still stands by. We learn about the secret “forced” abortion she insists the gay nazi cult carried out, for their evil pineal gland harvesting purposes, and her own simultaneous pregnancy, which may well have yielded two extra pineal glands for sale for the cult, for all I know, since Denise didn’t specify whether the con-joined twins were joined at the head, or elsewhere. Denise, of course, used to be in a kidney donation cult herself, so she’d be an expert on all the gay nazi cults’ shady shenanigans. Here’s the rambling tale, told by the cult lady herself. She’s not mad, she points out, although she’s a habit of calling anyone who questions her stories mad, telling us again what we heard her tell the visitor at the door, that she did have a stay in an asylum, all expenses paid, curtesy of her family, once, after a “nervous breakdown“. I wonder did they have internet there, to help relax her (ahem)?
This is not fit viewing for the childer, and there is some doubt that Denise’s daughter actually lived with her after her tender years, as Denise was only married for five years, and was displaying paranoia that the daughter’s teachers were out to kill the daughter, even while she was a very young child……..so yez will have to click on the image, to be transported into the mind of the spooky Ms. Matteau, for the full horror, in this tragi-comedy of horrors.

“When She Still Lived” https://youtu.be/wJ9OAPrWAmM

I’ve added a nice picture of Denise’s daughter’s besom (witches broomstick) on the left there, because, apart from the cockroaches and mold, her kitchen sink didn’t look spooky enough for Halloween, I thought, although she threw pretty much everything but the kitchen sink, into her story, pulling out all the stops, to get the verbal boot in, on her imaginary enemies, from down all the years, and all the dead ends of her dank and murky maze of memories ( I know – Shakespeare, I ain’t, but I sure give Proust a run for his money, with the length of my sentences, wha’?). Sadly, neither the broom nor the daughter exist any more, with the daughter having killed herself (not been murdered by the gay nazi cult, surprise, surprise, as Denise claims), and the broom literally gone up in a puff of smoke, as this photo was taken at a consecration ceremony by her pals in the coven, and published on her memorial page. It’s now taken down, probably Privated because of Denise inadvertently drawing attention to its existence , while pushing the murder story, and trying to hide the fact that it contained a suicide letter, and other letters distributing her items from her Wiccan altar to her pals. That didn’t fit in with Denise’s Christian lady image she was pushing on her channel at the time, nor her murder plot, but in a stroke of audacity she claimed the grave (which, I discovered from the memorial page, featured a slab with a pentagram on it, as well as a curved indentation from being run over by a lawnmower) had been desecrated by Satanists, and casts another friend she calls David Coagn (no such surname exists, in the real world, that I can find) as a jewish gay nazi murderer she owed money to, at the time of her “murder”. Riiiiight.

In a stoke of crazy genius, and that chutzpah she’s so well known to display so frequently when under pressure from murderous gangs, bent on taking down ordinary decent American families, she tried to put the imaginary dagger in my hand, and say I’d blood on my hands for the murder, abortion(s) and broom stick carrying, instead of taking ownership of the entire plot as her own work of theatrical tragedy, using items from her daughter’s and her own biographies as the raw ingredients, and her own persecutory fantasies to add some extra gore. Her Halloween fake dagger points at a lot of people, as she plays Pass the Pumpkin with it, going way way back in time, in her imaginative story, to link many entirely unconnected characters, accusing them all of murder, and it makes for a hilarious bit of theatrics, on her channel, as she plays the victim, constantly, while attacking others, then uses her own daughter’s dead body as a shield, to protect her against criticism. Reality, though, sometimes comes knocking at your door, reminding you that the outside world can intrude on your delusions, and plots.

Let’s hope Truth Convoy has some more convincing tales to tell, if she hears knocking at the Gate again, and has to run to hit the “Go Live” button on this livestream, up for a few days now, just waiting, because she points out that if she’s not quick about getting the bathrobe on this time, they might “crash the door in”. Perhaps she’s just being dramatic, in the spirit of Halloween, or perhaps we’ll get another exciting chapter in her Halloween story, yet. If not, the stream might stay up, as she says she finds it handy, as she’s too poor (oh, the poor ting!) to afford a high tech security system for her paper thin and funkily filthy front door. She would buy one if she had the money, she points out, in a subsequent livestream, looking meaningfully into the camara at us, in her best helpless, harmless, cookie baking elderlemon role. Perhaps she’ll flog some of her home-made stage jewelry, instead of having to beg for it, as Truth Convoy’s Wednesday nights are sales nights, online, but I’m not convinced the potential clients might like the look of the brown stones in those earrings, if they start to move, on delivery. Oh, the horror.

Denise, three days on from the first “Knock on The Door” livestream, is out of the bathrobe, and in her best moo-moo and chakra-calming stage jewelry, and up at all hours of the night (though, like many a keen thespian, not so keen on mornings), as she seems to think she may have visitors at any moment, and wouldn’t want to leave them waiting for more than a moment. We in the audience wait with bated breath, too, in anticipation of the plot getting even more convoluted, and impossible to follow, with the introduction of more characters.

https://youtu.be/NDRxMXYbXv8

The dramatic tension is building nicely, on the darkened stage. Will it be a cliffhanger, like this longest-ever up YouTube livestream, or will the story move along further?

Already, she’s adding new touches, with me being added to the gay nazi cult as a regular paycheck receiving employee, mentioned in an im-por-an’ court case, which sadly, or perhaps happily, like the rest of her “proofs”, she doesn’t produce for us, but leaves to our own imaginations, clearly thinking they are as fertile as her own. I wonder am I supposed to be on the pineal gland shipping end of things, or installing bugs, or what? I’m slightly more unsettled, ‘tho, by the discussion of my Irish troll underwurs, by Denise, on her subsequent video, than these puzzling details, because of the gay end of the cult, and Denise’s recent big girl crush on little ol’ me. I doubt I even have a suitable gay nazi costume to throw on, for that Halloween party, if she invites me. Perhaps the gay nazis are a bit of a psychological projection, when the truth is too horrible to imagine ( am I the Alice B. Toklas to her Gertrude Stein, in her mind, with all that claiming to be “channeling” me, and all that wondering about whether I was getting my underthings bunched? Yikes!). No wonder I wear trousers, and not skirts, when out and about, as these gay nazis are circling everywhere in the ether, trying to get their hands on your body parts, particularly at Halloween, it seems (is paranoia catching, do you reckon?), and they sound a fright. Happy Halloween, dear reader. Enjoy the tricks and treats.

Gertrude, on the left (like Denise, the ex (?) communist) and Alice, on the right. Me, I’m off to the side hehe. https://www.brainpickings.org/2013/04/30/alice-b-toklas-meets-gertrude-stein/

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!)

 

IlluminatusTrilogyCover
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.

trudischromed image
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……..

The Benevolent Hammer

Sometimes the truth must be hammered home, and when one is part of the Truth Community on YouTube, there are a variety of approaches. Being a content creator myself, with a fairly new channel up, I have to think carefully about how I can get the truth out there to my viewers. While thinking about the best way to do this, I formulated a plan which, I think you will agree, is both simple and brilliant. The following livestream informs my viewers of what direction I intend to take on my channel.

Brilliant idea, isn’t it? Just say ‘Yes, Donna’.

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.

book
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.