Showing posts with label Merlin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Merlin. Show all posts

Monday, 20 February 2017

The Grey Magician


Gray magic (also spelled magick) is magic that is not performed for specifically beneficial reasons, but is also not focused towards completely hostile practices.



It is seen as falling in a continuum between white and black magic. It is also called neutral magic

“A single shaft of light fell from the roof and illuminated a black slab of obsidian like an altar at the centre of the hall. There was a figure standing in front of the slab, silhouetted against the light. As the king’s cortege crossed the floor, their footsteps echoing back at them, the figure stretched out its arms in greeting and stepped backwards into the pool of light.

The king caught his breath in disbelief. 

‘Merlyn! Against all hope...’

The wizard smiled impishly at his aged royal pupil. ‘I see you’ve been killing people again, Arthur. Another fine pickle you’ve got yourself into!”

**********

“A once and future king?’ complained Merlyn. ‘Dear oh dear, I thought we’d given up all that nonsense.’ He shook his head of unruly red hair in irritation. ‘Isn’t enough ever enough?’

Arthur raised himself painfully from the side of the chair where “they had sat him. He slammed his gloved fist against the carved arm. ‘You gave your word!’

‘I most certainly did not! You’ve been listening to those minstrels again. They always exaggerate.’

‘Teeth of Heaven!’ A series of coughs tore up from Arthur’s aching lungs. He pushed away the queen who moved in to tend him and wiped the fresh blood from his mouth himself. 

‘You are never here when I have need of you, Merlyn.’

The wizard shrugged and smiled weakly, revealing the laughter lines on his avuncular face. ‘I can’t be everywhere at once.’

But there was still mischief behind his eyes. And he still looked younger every time he returned.

Arthur rested his head back on the side of the chair. He looked around the dark ribs of the King’s Hall ship that Merlyn had cultured for him long, long ago in the vat-cellars of the High Tagel. The consoles bleeped quietly as they awaited his instructions. Always ready to jump the stars or outfly the swiftest ornithopter.

‘Ten years of war have we suffered. My wife and friend are lost to me. The alliance of the Round Table is broken.
My kingdom is slipping away. The land dies.’

‘Morgaine has grown in power. She will destroy us all with her black arts.’

‘I doubt that. Arthur. But it may be a long struggle.’

‘I thought I had lost my tutor too. And then you return against all odds, but only to snatch away my remaining hope.’

‘Oh, don’t be so gloomy. And never trust people who make prophesies.’

Arthur lifted his eyes in disbelief. ‘But you do naught else!’

‘It’s one of my more annoying habits.’

The High King of the Thirteen Worlds gripped the arms of the chair and struggled to rise. 

He cursed as his knees buckled under him. The dead armour was cumbersome and he was too weak to move against it. He sat back temporarily defeated. But he would find a way.

He missed Lancelot. 

And he longed to see Guenever again and ask for her forgiveness.

Merlyn took a salve-sponge from one of the queens and began gently to wipe the mud and blood from the aged king’s face.

‘My dear Arthur, I think it’s time I came clean with you.’

‘Excalibur,’ he muttered. ‘Where is it?’

‘You see it’s all very well calling me tutor, but I can’t even begin your education until I find out how all this ends.’

To Merlyn’s surprise, the king appeared to rally from his misery. ‘So it is true then,’ he said eagerly.”

‘True? Why? What else have the minstrels been saying?’

‘That you live your life backwards.’

‘No, no, no!’

From his tatty embroidered Afghan coat, Merlyn tugged a floppy hat of brown felt. 

He flailed it into shape as he tried to contain his annoyance. Around its brim, the saffron Katmandu bandana was creased and tangled. A pair of finger cymbals tinkled to the floor. ‘My life may be rather haphazard — in a temporal sort of way. But I cannot predict the future...’

‘You deny it yet again!’

‘Of course I do! And you know that.’

‘So you cannot say the hour of my death.’

The wizard smiled inwardly that the old king could still beat his tutor into a corner. He looked forward to beginning the young king’s education. But there seemed no way to convince his old friend that time was passing.
All things had their time and that included the time to let go of what you loved.

“I shall rise again,’ continued Arthur. ‘There is no question. I decree it. And I shall see Morgaine defeated.
And you, Merlyn, I rely on to see me win through!’

Merlyn’s twin hearts sank. ‘I’ll see what I can do, my lord,’ he said quietly. ‘It may already be in hand.’

The king grunted. Satisfied at last, he leaned back into his chair. ‘And find my sword too.’

There was a movement in the shadows at the back of the hall. One of the queens, Bellangere of Orlamande, lifted Excalibur from the cavity into which it had been peristalted by the ship. She carried the ancient sword with reverence toMerlyn.

‘But there is no scabbard,’ she said.

‘I’m sure it’ll turn up again some time.’ Merlyn held the sword for a moment, recognizing the filigree ganglia systems worked out in the hilt and the blade.

‘I am hight Escalibore,
Unto a king fair tresore.’

‘Thank you, your majesties,’ he said gravely. ‘Your part in this will be remembered.’

The three attendant queens bowed low to him. Then he turned to present the sword to its true master.

The king was already sleeping. A new serenity drained the aching weariness from his face. His breathing steadied.

The queens watched Merlyn carry the sword, symbol of the High Kingship, to the central control console. He found the key input socket that he had grafted into the obsidian unit, because he remembered that long ago he had found it there in the future. He slowly, ceremonially, lowered the blade into its place.

‘So my once and future friend, the Night Watch begins.’

The huge amethyst in the hilt glittered momentarily with fire. The gentle hum of the ship pitched up a degree.

“High King Arthur shifted in his sleep. ‘Thank you, Doctor,’ he muttered through his dreams.”

Excerpt From: Platt, Marc. “Battlefield.” 
Target Books, 1991-08-14T07:00:00+00:00. iBooks. 
This material may be protected by copyright.









by ALEISTER CROWLEY

AUTHOR'S NOTE

This book was written in 1917, during such leisure as my efforts to bring America into the War on our side allowed me. Hence my illusions on the subject, and the sad showing of Simon Iff at the end. Need I add that, as the book itself demonstrates beyond all doubt, all persons and incidents are purely the figment of a disordered imagination?
London, 1929.
A.C.

Thursday, 2 February 2017

For the Scabbard is Worth Ten of the Sword



KING ARTHUR had fought a hard battle with the tallest Knight in all the land, and though he struck hard and well, he would have been slain had not Merlin enchanted the Knight and cast him into a deep sleep, and brought the King to a hermit who had studied the art of healing, and cured all his wounds in three days. Then Arthur and Merlin waited no longer, but gave the hermit thanks and departed.

As they rode together Arthur said, 'I have no sword,' but Merlin bade him be patient and he would soon give him one. In a little while they came to a large lake, and in the midst of the lake Arthur beheld an arm rising out of the water, holding up a sword. 'Look!' said Merlin, 'that is the sword I spoke of.' And the King looked again, and a maiden stood upon the water. 'That is the Lady of the Lake,' said Merlin, 'and she is coming to you, and if you ask her courteously she will give you the sword.' So when the maiden drew near Arthur saluted her and said, 'Maiden, I pray you tell me whose sword is that which an arm is holding out of the water? I wish it were mine, for I have lost my sword.'

'That sword is mine, King Arthur,' answered she, and I will give it to you, if you in return will give me a gift when I ask you.'

'By my faith,' said the King, 'I will give you whatever gift you ask.' 'Well,' said the maiden, 'get into the barge yonder, and row yourself to the sword, and take it and the scabbard with you.' For this was the sword Excalibur. 'As for my gift, I will ask it in my own time.' 

Then King Arthur and Merlin dismounted from their horses and tied them up safely, and went into the barge, and when they came to the place where the arm was holding the sword Arthur took it by the handle, and the arm disappeared. And they brought the sword back to land. As they rode the King looked lovingly on his sword, which Merlin saw, and, smiling, said, Which do you like best, the sword or the scabbard?

 'I like the sword,' answered Arthur. 

'You are not wise to say that,' replied Merlin, 'for the scabbard is worth ten of the sword, and as long as it is buckled on you you will lose no blood, however sorely you may be wounded.

So they rode into the town of Carlion, and Arthur's Knights gave them a glad welcome, and said it was a joy to serve under a King who risked his life as much as any common man.


Wednesday, 1 February 2017

CAMRMERL - The Campaign for Real Merlyn

"a head of unruly red hair"


"tatty embroidered Afghan coat"


"floppy hat of brown felt"

"saffron Katmandu bandana"


I know whom thou seekest, for thou seekest Merlin; therefore seek no farther, for I am he.

You that are watching
The gray Magician
With eyes of wonder,
I am Merlin,
And I am dying,
I am Merlin
Who follow The Gleam.

The days of our kind are numberèd. The one God comes to drive out the many gods. The spirits of wood and stream grow silent. It's the way of things. Yes... it's a time for men, and their ways.

The best thing for being sad … is to learn something. That is the only thing that never fails. You may grow old and trembling in your anatomies, you may lie awake in the middle of the night listening to the disorder of your veins, you may miss your only love, you may see the world around you devastated by evil lunatics, or know your honour trampled in the sewers of baser minds. There is only one thing for it then — to learn. Learn why the world wags and what wags it. That is the only thing the mind can never exhaust, never alienate, never be tortured by, never fear or distrust, and never dream of regretting.

Look upon this moment. Savor it! Rejoice with great gladness! Great gladness! Remember it always, for you are joined by it. You are One, under the stars. Remember it well, then... this night, this great victory. So that in the years ahead, you can say, "I was there that night, with Arthur, the King!" For it is the doom of men that they forget.

Anál nathrach, orth’ bháis’s bethad, do chél dénmha. *

* "The Charm of Making", an incantation repeatedly uttered by both Merlin and Morgana, is in an Old Gaelic dialect which translates to: 

"Serpent's breath, charm of death and life, thy omen of making."





“A single shaft of light fell from the roof and illuminated a black slab of obsidian like an altar at the centre of the hall. There was a figure standing in front of the slab, silhouetted against the light. As the king’s cortege crossed the floor, their footsteps echoing back at them, the figure stretched out its arms in greeting and stepped backwards into the pool of light.

The king caught his breath in disbelief. 

‘Merlyn! Against all hope...’

The wizard smiled impishly at his aged royal pupil. ‘I see you’ve been killing people again, Arthur. Another fine pickle you’ve got yourself into!”

**********

“A once and future king?’ complained Merlyn. ‘Dear oh dear, I thought we’d given up all that nonsense.’ He shook his head of unruly red hair in irritation. ‘Isn’t enough ever enough?’

Arthur raised himself painfully from the side of the chair where “they had sat him. He slammed his gloved fist against the carved arm. ‘You gave your word!’

‘I most certainly did not! You’ve been listening to those minstrels again. They always exaggerate.’

‘Teeth of Heaven!’ A series of coughs tore up from Arthur’s aching lungs. He pushed away the queen who moved in to tend him and wiped the fresh blood from his mouth himself. 

‘You are never here when I have need of you, Merlyn.’

The wizard shrugged and smiled weakly, revealing the laughter lines on his avuncular face. ‘I can’t be everywhere at once.’

But there was still mischief behind his eyes. And he still looked younger every time he returned.

Arthur rested his head back on the side of the chair. He looked around the dark ribs of the King’s Hall ship that Merlyn had cultured for him long, long ago in the vat-cellars of the High Tagel. The consoles bleeped quietly as they awaited his instructions. Always ready to jump the stars or outfly the swiftest ornithopter.

‘Ten years of war have we suffered. My wife and friend are lost to me. The alliance of the Round Table is broken.
My kingdom is slipping away. The land dies.’

‘Morgaine has grown in power. She will destroy us all with her black arts.’

‘I doubt that. Arthur. But it may be a long struggle.’

‘I thought I had lost my tutor too. And then you return against all odds, but only to snatch away my remaining hope.’

‘Oh, don’t be so gloomy. And never trust people who make prophesies.’

Arthur lifted his eyes in disbelief. ‘But you do naught else!’

‘It’s one of my more annoying habits.’

The High King of the Thirteen Worlds gripped the arms of the chair and struggled to rise. 

He cursed as his knees buckled under him. The dead armour was cumbersome and he was too weak to move against it. He sat back temporarily defeated. But he would find a way.

He missed Lancelot. 

And he longed to see Guenever again and ask for her forgiveness.

Merlyn took a salve-sponge from one of the queens and began gently to wipe the mud and blood from the aged king’s face.

‘My dear Arthur, I think it’s time I came clean with you.’

‘Excalibur,’ he muttered. ‘Where is it?’

‘You see it’s all very well calling me tutor, but I can’t even begin your education until I find out how all this ends.’

To Merlyn’s surprise, the king appeared to rally from his misery. ‘So it is true then,’ he said eagerly.”

‘True? Why? What else have the minstrels been saying?’

‘That you live your life backwards.’

‘No, no, no!’

From his tatty embroidered Afghan coat, Merlyn tugged a floppy hat of brown felt. 

He flailed it into shape as he tried to contain his annoyance. Around its brim, the saffron Katmandu bandana was creased and tangled. A pair of finger cymbals tinkled to the floor. ‘My life may be rather haphazard — in a temporal sort of way. But I cannot predict the future...’

‘You deny it yet again!’

‘Of course I do! And you know that.’

‘So you cannot say the hour of my death.’

The wizard smiled inwardly that the old king could still beat his tutor into a corner. He looked forward to beginning the young king’s education. But there seemed no way to convince his old friend that time was passing.
All things had their time and that included the time to let go of what you loved.

“I shall rise again,’ continued Arthur. ‘There is no question. I decree it. And I shall see Morgaine defeated.
And you, Merlyn, I rely on to see me win through!’

Merlyn’s twin hearts sank. ‘I’ll see what I can do, my lord,’ he said quietly. ‘It may already be in hand.’

The king grunted. Satisfied at last, he leaned back into his chair. ‘And find my sword too.’

There was a movement in the shadows at the back of the hall. One of the queens, Bellangere of Orlamande, lifted Excalibur from the cavity into which it had been peristalted by the ship. She carried the ancient sword with reverence toMerlyn.

‘But there is no scabbard,’ she said.

‘I’m sure it’ll turn up again some time.’ Merlyn held the sword for a moment, recognizing the filigree ganglia systems worked out in the hilt and the blade.

‘I am hight Escalibore,
Unto a king fair tresore.’

‘Thank you, your majesties,’ he said gravely. ‘Your part in this will be remembered.’

The three attendant queens bowed low to him. Then he turned to present the sword to its true master.

The king was already sleeping. A new serenity drained the aching weariness from his face. His breathing steadied.

The queens watched Merlyn carry the sword, symbol of the High Kingship, to the central control console. He found the key input socket that he had grafted into the obsidian unit, because he remembered that long ago he had found it there in the future. He slowly, ceremonially, lowered the blade into its place.

‘So my once and future friend, the Night Watch begins.’

The huge amethyst in the hilt glittered momentarily with fire. The gentle hum of the ship pitched up a degree.

“High King Arthur shifted in his sleep. ‘Thank you, Doctor,’ he muttered through his dreams.”

Excerpt From: Platt, Marc. “Battlefield.” 
Target Books, 1991-08-14T07:00:00+00:00. iBooks. 
This material may be protected by copyright.


The 13th Man

He has many many names. 
But in my reckoning he is Merlin.

Hmmm...?
When I say run, run,
I've reversed the polarity of the Neuton flow, the TARDIS should be free of the force-field now.
What?! Not even the Sonic Screwdriver can get me out of this one....
Definitely Civilisation.
On with The Motley!
Evil, evil since the dawn of time (and somewhere else The Tea's getting cold (I can't stand burnt toast)),
Yes!! These SHOES!! They fit PERFECTLY!! Bring me knitting.
[Am I having a mid-life crisis...?]
FANTASTIC!!
What? What?! What?!?! No, no, no.... Don't do that.... Allons-Y!!
Come along, Pond - Don't be a monk.
It's Doctor Disco, here. I don't hug - they're attack eyebrows.



I know whom thou seekest, for thou seekest Merlin; therefore seek no farther, for I am he.

You that are watching
The gray Magician
With eyes of wonder,
I am Merlin,
And I am dying,
I am Merlin
Who follow The Gleam.

The days of our kind are numberèd. The one God comes to drive out the many gods. The spirits of wood and stream grow silent. It's the way of things. Yes... it's a time for men, and their ways.

The best thing for being sad … is to learn something. That is the only thing that never fails. You may grow old and trembling in your anatomies, you may lie awake in the middle of the night listening to the disorder of your veins, you may miss your only love, you may see the world around you devastated by evil lunatics, or know your honour trampled in the sewers of baser minds. There is only one thing for it then — to learn. Learn why the world wags and what wags it. That is the only thing the mind can never exhaust, never alienate, never be tortured by, never fear or distrust, and never dream of regretting.

Look upon this moment. Savor it! Rejoice with great gladness! Great gladness! Remember it always, for you are joined by it. You are One, under the stars. Remember it well, then... this night, this great victory. So that in the years ahead, you can say, "I was there that night, with Arthur, the King!" For it is the doom of men that they forget.

Anál nathrach, orth’ bháis’s bethad, do chél dénmha. *

* "The Charm of Making", an incantation repeatedly uttered by both Merlin and Morgana, is in an Old Gaelic dialect which translates to: 

"Serpent's breath, charm of death and life, thy omen of making."




Monday, 31 October 2016

Rufus

King John Plantagenet


Red Hair is associated with True Royalty.

It is associated with the bloodline of the last of the Neanderthal Augments.

Human-Neanderthal Hybrids.

Earth-Gods created via genetic, psychosurgical and vivisectional augmentation by Space Gods.

Men like Arthur, Conan, Richmond or Aurakles.


Rufus 
" The nature of God and the Virgin Birth--these are leaps of Faith. 
But to believe a married couple never got down
That's just plain gullibility! "

Henry Wriothesley, 3rd Earl of Southampton, 
in the Tower of London in 1603, 
attributed to John de Critz. 

A small painting of the Tower of London is shown in the top-right background, above the Latin words: In vinculis invictus (“in chains unconquered”) Februa 8 1600; 601; 602; 603 Apri. 

The arms of Wriothesley (Azure, a cross or between four hawks close argent) are shown on the cover of a book lying on the windowsill before the cat

A woman's face with nature's own hand painted,
Hast thou, the master mistress of my passion;
A woman's gentle heart, but not acquainted
With shifting change, as is false women's fashion:
An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling,
Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth;
A man in hue all hues in his controlling,
Which steals men's eyes and women's souls amazeth.
And for a woman wert thou first created;
Till Nature, as she wrought thee, fell a-doting,
And by addition me of thee defeated,
By adding one thing to my purpose nothing.
But since she prick'd thee out for women's pleasure,
Mine be thy love and thy love's use their treasure.

Phenomelanin (as opposed to Eumelanin), associated with blonde hair, blue eyes, green eyes, fair skin and Red Hair is "a Mutation" of the Melanin producing human gene.

Redheads are Mutants.

"For me, personally, it's brunettes.

But redheads are the wildcard...."

David Lynch

No, it's an extremely thoughtful and insightful question, and Lynch's answer is extreme important and informative.

You notice, when he asks the "silly" question, there is some patchy laughter from one or two members of the audience (who think its stupid), but not from Lynch, (who knows that it is not). It only SOUNDS stupid.

He acknowledges the premise of the question, and then gives a serious answer, so the question itself is anything but stupid. And this of course is well known.

The fact that he uses women of different hair colour as avatars for various archtypes and aspects of the human psyche and the collective unconscious as expounded by Jung, most notably The Angel and the Dark Lady (often known as Liliith, the heavenly pariah FIRST wife of Adam before God created Eve from Adam's own flesh).

When Ben Horne first arrives at One Eyed Jacks, he greets Blackie by quoting (in full) Shakes-Spear's Sonnet 18, which is the first in the series of Dark Lady sonnets, which form an extended communication with the author's own Dark Heart, an acceptance and indeed love letter to his own potential for mischief, destruction and malice.

So when he asks him "Blondes or Brunettes?", the actual meaning behind the question and what he is answering is "Which do you find more enriching to your life? Virgins or Harlots? Do you seek purity or richness?".

People get into a lot of trouble, both psychically and psychologically, when they seek to deny that they have at least the potential for darkness within themselves and seek to distance themselves from immoral, even evil things that they have done, rather than accepting it as a part of themselves that they must comes to terms with.

This is the basis for all trauma (or Garambozia) - Leland Palmer cannot come to terms with the fact BOB used him to rape and murder his own daughter (and cannot live with himself), whereas Laura Palmer *can* admit to her shrink that her rough, incestuous sex with BOB was the best she had ever had, even *after* she realises who he is, and ultimately she is able to forgive him and allow BOB to murder her, which also saves Ronnette's life, allowing MIKE the opportunity to pull her clear from the old train-car. 

Which is why she get to go to Heaven, whilst Cooper is still stuck in the Lodge, unable to accept or get to grips properly with his own Dark Side - who is out there in The World, having hijacked his body, doing who-knows what with it, whilst he remains trapped in denial. When he first sees his Other Self, the corruption in his own soul inside The Lodge, his first response and reaction is first to avoid it, then to run away from it.

Meaning, of course, that it catches up with him (as always it must), overpowers him and consequently assumes complete control over his life and his entire existence. Not realising that when there is nowhere to run to, and no chance to escape or get away, running away is to admit defeat. Because he faced the Dweller on the Threshold of Life and Death with imperfect courage.

Only through acceptance can there be hope of victory - or, as Prince said, " I got 2 sides, and they're both friends."


Now, here's the thing about his answer, and why it's important and will affect your life as well as mine : almost every significant female character in Twin Peaks, other than Laura and Maddie has red hair - and as anyone who has ever dated one or been close to one will tell you, the old folk wisdom about their possessing a  firey nature is more than just an Old Wives' Tale - something about their personalities and their behaviour strongly suggests that they are somehow connected to something wild, mysterious and exotic.

Now, if you go onto the Smithsonian Website and look through the section on Human Origins, they will now tell you that red hair is recessive gene that is not found in early hominids or pre-humans, but *is* found in Neanderthal DNA, as a mutation which occurred after the species divergence occurred between pre-modern Cromagnon  proto-humans and Neanderthals - thus, in areas where there was cohabitation occurred, interbreeding and hybridisation occurred between pre-modern humans and Neanderthals, and red hair is the proof that that took place.

For that reason, and sue to the fact that the gene itself is recessive, red hair (amongst white people) has traditionally always been associated with high nobility and royalty right up until the present time - it seems to have been something that began around the time of the Norman Invasion,  several of the Plantagenet kings were noted for their red hair and ferocity, as well as Anne Boleyn, Elizabeth I and Oliver Cromwell.

Prince Harry to is second in line to the throne after his brother and Prince Charles, and he is a redhead - which is exceptionally interesting due to the fact that none of the Windsors are, and his mother certainly wasn't. She was a pure natural blonde. He's also known for his temper, or used to be, he seems to have calmed down a great deal in recent years.

Why is this important? If you read Graham Hancock's book Magicians of the Gods, he provides an excellent summary and overview of the wealth of geological evidence that exists and is now available for the global cataclysm and devastation which we now know appears to have occurred aound 12,600 years ago at the end of the last great Ice Age, at the end of the Younger Dryas Period. What APPEARS to have happened is that during a period when the permafrost of the polar ice cap extended down over much of North America and nearly all of Europe, the Earth was struck by a comet or comet fragment which exploded on impact or superheated the atmosphere, flash-thawing the oversized ice-cap and flooding everything, nearly everywhere, permanently raising the sea level and leaving countless previously inhabited regions of the planet submerged until this day.

One of the last places affected, and when surviors and refugees  of the disaster and were able to settle and regroup was the Pacific Northwest, and North America generally. This is whythis area is so strongly associated with the Moundbuilder Civilisation and it's remains and earthworks, the remains and skeletons of a race of Giants (such as Paul Bunyan, referenced by the Cohens in Fargo), and Native America creation mythology, with their oral tradtion, going back tens of thousands of years, of a far older race of giant men who came from afar, a wise and  noble race that became extinct, but taught them many things.

After getting shot, Agent Cooper is visited by the Lodge Spirit in the form of a Giant, who offers him information and declares his firm altruistic desire to prove him with help and give him the assisstance he requires in order to resolve the mysteries of Laura Palmer and succeed in solving the case.


Now, here's the thing about his answer, and why it's important and will affect your life as well as mine : almost every significant female character in Twin Peaks, other than Laura and Maddie has red hair - and as anyone who has ever dated one or been close to one will tell you, the old folk wisdom about their possessing a  firey nature is more than just an Old Wives' Tale - something about their personalities and their behaviour strongly suggests that they are somehow connected to something wild, mysterious and exotic.

Now, if you go onto the Smithsonian Website and look through the section on Human Origins, they will now tell you that red hair is recessive gene that is not found in early hominids or pre-humans, but *is* found in Neanderthal DNA, as a mutation which occurred after the species divergence occurred between pre-modern Cromagnon  proto-humans and Neanderthals - thus, in areas where there was cohabitation occurred, interbreeding and hybridisation occurred between pre-modern humans and Neanderthals, and red hair is the proof that that took place.

For that reason, and sue to the fact that the gene itself is recessive, red hair (amongst white people) has traditionally always been associated with high nobility and royalty right up until the present time - it seems to have been something that began around the time of the Norman Invasion,  several of the Plantagenet kings were noted for their red hair and ferocity, as well as Anne Boleyn, Elizabeth I and Oliver Cromwell.

Prince Harry to is second in line to the throne after his brother and Prince Charles, and he is a redhead - which is exceptionally interesting due to the fact that none of the Windsors are, and his mother certainly wasn't. She was a pure natural blonde. He's also known for his temper, or used to be, he seems to have calmed down a great deal in recent years.

Why is this important? If you read Graham Hancock's book Magicians of the Gods, he provides an excellent summary and overview of the wealth of geological evidence that exists and is now available for the global cataclysm and devastation which we now know appears to have occurred aound 12,600 years ago at the end of the last great Ice Age, at the end of the Younger Dryas Period. What APPEARS to have happened is that during a period when the permafrost of the polar ice cap extended down over much of North America and nearly all of Europe, the Earth was struck by a comet or comet fragment which exploded on impact or superheated the atmosphere, flash-thawing the oversized ice-cap and flooding everything, nearly everywhere, permanently raising the sea level and leaving countless previously inhabited regions of the planet submerged until this day.

One of the last places affected, and when surviors and refugees  of the disaster and were able to settle and regroup was the Pacific Northwest, and North America generally. This is whythis area is so strongly associated with the Moundbuilder Civilisation and it's remains and earthworks, the remains and skeletons of a race of Giants (such as Paul Bunyan, referenced by the Cohens in Fargo), and Native America creation mythology, with their oral tradtion, going back tens of thousands of years, of a far older race of giant men who came from afar, a wise and  noble race that became extinct, but taught them many things.

After getting shot, Agent Cooper is visited by the Lodge Spirit in the form of a Giant, who offers him information and declares his firm altruistic desire to prove him with help and give him the assisstance he requires in order to resolve the mysteries of Laura Palmer and succeed in solving the case.


Now, here's the thing about his answer, and why it's important and will affect your life as well as mine : almost every significant female character in Twin Peaks, other than Laura and Maddie has red hair - and as anyone who has ever dated one or been close to one will tell you, the old folk wisdom about their possessing a  firey nature is more than just an Old Wives' Tale - something about their personalities and their behaviour strongly suggests that they are somehow connected to something wild, mysterious and exotic.

Now, if you go onto the Smithsonian Website and look through the section on Human Origins, they will now tell you that red hair is recessive gene that is not found in early hominids or pre-humans, but *is* found in Neanderthal DNA, as a mutation which occurred after the species divergence occurred between pre-modern Cromagnon  proto-humans and Neanderthals - thus, in areas where there was cohabitation occurred, interbreeding and hybridisation occurred between pre-modern humans and Neanderthals, and red hair is the proof that that took place.

For that reason, and sue to the fact that the gene itself is recessive, red hair (amongst white people) has traditionally always been associated with high nobility and royalty right up until the present time - it seems to have been something that began around the time of the Norman Invasion,  several of the Plantagenet kings were noted for their red hair and ferocity, as well as Anne Boleyn, Elizabeth I and Oliver Cromwell.

Prince Harry to is second in line to the throne after his brother and Prince Charles, and he is a redhead - which is exceptionally interesting due to the fact that none of the Windsors are, and his mother certainly wasn't. She was a pure natural blonde. He's also known for his temper, or used to be, he seems to have calmed down a great deal in recent years.

Why is this important? If you read Graham Hancock's book Magicians of the Gods, he provides an excellent summary and overview of the wealth of geological evidence that exists and is now available for the global cataclysm and devastation which we now know appears to have occurred aound 12,600 years ago at the end of the last great Ice Age, at the end of the Younger Dryas Period. What APPEARS to have happened is that during a period when the permafrost of the polar ice cap extended down over much of North America and nearly all of Europe, the Earth was struck by a comet or comet fragment which exploded on impact or superheated the atmosphere, flash-thawing the oversized ice-cap and flooding everything, nearly everywhere, permanently raising the sea level and leaving countless previously inhabited regions of the planet submerged until this day.

One of the last places affected, and when surviors and refugees  of the disaster and were able to settle and regroup was the Pacific Northwest, and North America generally. This is whythis area is so strongly associated with the Moundbuilder Civilisation and it's remains and earthworks, the remains and skeletons of a race of Giants (such as Paul Bunyan, referenced by the Cohens in Fargo), and Native America creation mythology, with their oral tradtion, going back tens of thousands of years, of a far older race of giant men who came from afar, a wise and  noble race that became extinct, but taught them many things.


After getting shot, Agent Cooper is visited by the Lodge Spirit in the form of a Giant, who offers him information and declares his firm altruistic desire to prove him with help and give him the assisstance he requires in order to resolve the mysteries of Laura Palmer and succeed in solving the case.

The Virgin Queen’s Other Secret…

by Peter Merlin Cane
In the last half of 16thC England there were to be found two ladies of immense wealth. Both had auburn hair they styled in similar ways, both had a long aquiline nose, both had a lower lip a little stronger than her upper, both had a passion for pearls, and both were called Elizabeth. Put all their portraits together and it is hard to tell one from the other.
A collection of portraits of Elizabeth I and Elizabeth of Hardwick
A collection of portraits of Elizabeth I and Elizabeth of Hardwicke
One lady needs no introduction – she was the Virgin Queen. The other was Bess of Hardwicke, born around 1527, and raised by a family of minor gentry in Derbyshire. Her early history is undocumented, and what is known of her family’s history before she was born dates solely to evidence provided by her brother in 1569, when he was providing reasons for his right to bear arms.
What is known is that she married four times: the first, undocumented, was to the 13 year old heir to a neighbouring estate. She married him most likely in 1543, but he died the following year. Then on 20 August, 1547, nine months after the death of King Henry VIII, she was married – remarkably well above her station – to the illustrious Sir William Cavendish, Treasurer of the King’s Chamber, who had made a fortune as an official of the Court during the Dissolution of the Monasteries.
Sir William Cavindish, possibly by John Bettes, 1544
Sir William Cavendish, possibly by John Bettes, 1544
In 1553, with the death of Edward VI, Cavendish’s means of acquiring his wealth came under scrutiny, and having been closely associated with the Seymours, and with Lady Jane Grey (who got her head chopped off for claiming the throne after Edward VI’s death), he lost his position at court, and was accused of embezzlement. He had tried to stay the right side of Edward’s staunchly Catholic successor, Mary I, but given such unfortunate associations, he was no longer in favour. He and Bess had eight children together, though, before he died on October 25th 1557, just one month after the startling birth of Robert Tudor.
On Mary’s death in 1558, the new Queen Elizabeth restored Bess Hardwicke to Court, and again – rather remarkably – made her a key Lady of her Bedchamber. Soon after, Bess fell in love with Sir William St Loe, a good friend of the new Queen who had aided her when her life had been in danger, and who she had made Captain of the Guard, and Butler to the Royal Household – key positions ensuring her personal security.
Sir William St Loe
Sir William St Loe
The two were married in 1559, but in 1561, a serious problem emerged. Bess was the friend of Frances Brandon, the mother of Lady Jane Grey who had been executed by Mary for claiming the throne in 1553. According to the will of Henry VIII, on Lady Jane Grey’s death, her sister Catherine had become second in line to the throne, next after Elizabeth herself. Elizabeth wanted her to remain a spinster, thereby reducing any threat to her rule, but in total defiance of the Queen’s wishes Catherine secretly married into the powerful Seymour family. Bess distanced herself from the marriage, but hid the news from the Queen, who, when she found out, flew into a rage, and sent her to the Tower.
Lady Catherine Grey
Lady Catherine Grey
After seven months Elizabeth relented, and let her go home, but Bess and Sir William had no children together, and soon after, in 1565, he died under very suspicious circumstances. Bess thus became one of the wealthiest women in the country, with an annual income equivalent to around £14 million in present day terms. The Queen forgave her at this point, and she returned to court once more, only to find that the tutor to her sons had been spreading slanderous rumours about her. The nature of the slander was suppressed, and the Queen was so upset by what he had been saying that she ordered him to suffer public corporal punishment, a most vindictive punishment for someone of his rank. His slander must have been serious indeed.
In 1567 Bess again married, and again inexplicably far above herself, to the Earl of Shrewsbury, the richest nobleman in England.
Rowland Lockey 'The Earl of Shrewsbury' 1580
Rowland Lockey ‘The Earl of Shrewsbury’ 1580
On the 2 May, 1568, Mary Queen of Scots fled from Scotland and sought refuge in England, to the consternation of the Queen. Mary had a claim not only to Scotland, but to the English throne as well, and could not easily be disposed of, being a Queen in her own right. Elizabeth summoned the Shrewsburies to court, and entrusted them with one of the most important roles she delegated to anyone in her entire reign: that of keeping Mary Queen of Scots prisoner, and preventing her from conspiring against her. This the Shrewsburies loyally did for the next sixteen years, until 1584, moving home to another of their estates each time a plot to rescue Mary was discovered.
Rowland Lockey 'Mary, Queen of Scots' 158
Rowland Lockey ‘Mary, Queen of Scots’ 1585
In 1574/5 a serious situation developed involving Bess’s daughter, Elizabeth. The girl met, fell in love with, got pregnant by, and then married Charles Stuart, the brother of Mary Queen of Scots’ former husband, Lord Darnley. Like Darnley, Charles was the son of the Countess of Lennox, who herself was the daughter of Margaret Tudor, Queen of Scotland – and daughter of King Henry VII of England. Bess had married her daughter into the Royal families of both England and Scotland without the knowledge or permission of the Queen, and she and the Countess of Lennox were both promptly consigned to the care of the Tower of London.
Lady ARabella STuart, c.1590
Lady Arabella Stuart, c.1590
By January 1575 she was back home, though. Her daughter Elizabeth and Charles Stuart were expecting their first and only child, Arabella, and under the terms of succession, Bess felt Arabella had a good chance to succeed Elizabeth on her death. To that purpose, she began casting about for a suitable husband, and after a while came up with the infant Lord Denbigh, the son of the Earl of Leicester and the widowed Countess of Essex… She could hardly have contrived to upset the Queen more: the Earl of Leicester, after all, was the Queen’s former love, Robert Dudley… and so summoned to London by the Queen, Bess was likely invited to consider a third stay in the Tower. Judiciously, she assured the Queen of her loyalty, and took no further part in trying to arrange a marriage for Arabella, whose future the Queen took under her own wing, and the infant Lord Denbigh promptly died, pruning any future growth to that disconcerting branch of the family tree.
Bess turned instead to the construction of a home worthy of a future Queen of England… Hardwicke Hall… and thus came to be known as Bess of Hardwicke. In the meantime, though, another problem had emerged: Bess became concerned at the amount of time Mary Queen of Scots and her husband were spending together, and tried to resolve the matter by becoming Mary’s constant companion, spending months on end together with her, engaging in talk and much needlepoint.
After a while, though, Bess became aware that her husband was being unfaithful with one of her serving wenches, indeed, catching him in flagrante delecto. Rumours began circulating that the serving maid was not the only object of Shrewsbury’s attention, and that Mary Queen of Scots had not only taken his eye, but that she had already secretly borne two children by him.
The Queen was horrified, and Bess was summoned to Court, and swore on her knees that the news of Mary’s inappropriate children was totally untrue, and signed a declaration to that effect. Elizabeth seemingly accepted this, but the Earl of Shrewsbury blamed Bess, and the two separated, never to be reconciled. Mary, Queen of Scots was removed from Shrewsbury’s protection, and executed after the Babington Plot in February 1587, and Shrewsbury died in 1590, making Bess – most improbably, considering her apparently humble origins – the richest woman in England after the Queen. And still, even by 1590 she remained the double of the Queen, with the same red hair, the same nose, the same lips, and the same love for pearls… as this portrait dated 1583 tells:
The Countess of Shrewsbury
The Countess of Shrewsbury, Bess of Hardwicke, c.1580
But there is far more here than readily meets the eye. If we progressively darken her face and increase the tonal contrast, we find a bombshell written in the faintest of brushstrokes. In just one sentence, the painter explains all the many inexplicabilities of Bess of Hardwicke’s life.
Detail of Bess's face, from the 1580 portrait of her
Detail of Bess’s face, from the 1580 portrait of her
Sesso 25’ he says across her forehead, then on her temple ‘nata 26’: …sex in 1525, born in 1526. And from her other temple beneath her eye, the traditional declaration that she was the ‘Figlia de’… 
The artist is writing in Italian, and about to tell us who her parents were.
Detail of Bass's face, showing her true family origins
Detail of Bess’s face, showing her true family origins: click on the picture to enlarge it.
‘Sesso 25, nata 26, figlia de’, he continues… ‘Henry VIII’ and ‘Anne Boleyn’. 
Bess of Hardwicke was the first daughter of Henry VIII and Anne, back in the early days when she first joined the court as lady in waiting to Catherine of Aragon. 
Bess of Hardwicke, named after Henry’s mother, was the elder sister of Queen Elizabeth I.
That is why she could come from obscurity to the court of Edward VI, and how she came to marry the Treasurer of the King’s Chamber, Sir William Cavendish. That is why she fell from grace under the reign of Mary I in 1553, and why in 1558 Elizabeth chose her as a key Lady in Waiting. Bess could be trusted. This was how it was she could marry the Captain of Elizabeth’s guard, Sir William St Loe, and how it was she could meddle in the dynastic politics of Elizabeth’s court and not only survive but be forgiven and then return to court. It was how she could marry the richest nobleman in the Realm, the Earl of Shrewsbury, and how he could be trusted to keep Mary Queen of Scots safely captive for 16 years. It explains, too, how she could then again meddle  with the line of succession by marrying her daughter into the English and Scottish royal families – and once again survive and be forgiven. It explains too why she was the spitting image of the rather the illustrious Virgin Queen.
But how could a mere artist know all this? Well, he signed that portrait of Bess Hardwicke, Countess of Shrewsbury. He signed it on her ruff, using the name ‘Robert Tudor’. The artist was Elizabeth’s son, and the Countess of Shrewsbury’s nephew. He would have known, for sure, what his mum and aunty were up to.
But our story is not yet done… This was not the only portrait of Robert’s aunt that art history considers significant: there is another painting we must look at, too, one holding yet another surprise…
(to be continued)