I Am A Tragic Genius

“Sucking the genius out of generosity.”

Bob Dylan

I believe I have identified three writers sitting next to my grandmother, Mary Magdelene Rosamond. Left: Arthur K. Barnes. John K. Butler, and Norbert Davis, holding gun.


Last night Christine Wandel titled me a ‘Genius’. It was like a dagger to the heart. I have been escaping from this – crowning……of thorns; for it is my undoing. After posting my utterly tragic-genius  letter I wrote to Lillian, I had to admit what my sister Christine, had admitted, on several occasion – that ‘I am the source’ of her success’ and, I am a genius! Lillian and Rosemary knew Rosamond ripped me off, they preferring to say;

“You were her John. You prepared her way!”

My grandfather, Royal Rosamond, prepared my way. With my posts on the Grail and the Priory de Sion, that preceded Dan Brown, I am carrying on the tradition of the Black Mask authors. So what Jesus and Mary were, or, were not married, and began a lineage of artists and art collectors! What is this to you? Will this Holy Blood line of the Merovingian’s go into the 23rd century? Note the energy around my head, and coming out of solar plexus. Don’t you know who I am – yet?




It is extremely more difficult to love a woman, than render her image – as a woman! I exuded GENIUS in my relationships with women. CW was my lover in 1967. When I was seventeen my mind BLEW out of all restrictions! I was conjuring, not painting, not writing, not being, being, pure magic! I could hardly do anything at all. What was the point? I was pure TRAGIC! I understood what the tragedy of life is! It is not being recognized for who you really are! This is why the Seer told me;

“People come into your being and take, take, take. You are powerless to stop them. I do not know why.”

When you KNOW YOURSELF, an incredible energy flows from you, and surrounds you. It is not  matter of WHAT you know, for we are not WHATS. We are not WHO? Some of us, are liken to Greek Gods. Some of us are like Jesus. Some of us are not like Jesus. You are of the world, and you are not in the world……..when YOU ARE……a genius.

Christine Wandel described our first meeting.

“What is this?” she said to herself when Keith and I came walking down the path to the house on 13th. St. Her and Keith had met two year earlier when she was attending Mills College on a Academic Scholarship. She did not recognize my best friend. She was her Leo focusing on her prey. She had to have me. Keith was Rosamond’s lover.

Christine exudes intelligence. She grew up on Beacon Hill. She met Peter Shapiro who was attending UC Berkley at a dance. He had formed a band and was playing the college circuit. Peter grew up in Boston. His father is Ascher Shapiro. I JUST GOOGLED Ascher, and am blown away. I cut and pasted part of my post on Pynchon and Woodstock.


“For the first 25 years of his career, Shapiro’s research was focused primarily on power production, high-speed flight, turbomachinery and propulsion by jet engines and rockets. He was a member of the Lexington Project, which helped to evaluate nuclear-powered aircraft. During that time, he invented a nuclear aircraft-propulsion system. Soon after, he directed the Atomic Energy Commission’s Project Dynamo, which evaluated nuclear energy as a pmotential source of civilian electricity production.”

CHRISTINE JUST CALLED as I was about to goodle Dylan’s album ‘Love and Theft’. I told her I just blogged on Ascher who she knew.

“Good! About time he get some recognition!”

Christine has been pointing out the prophetic line in Dylan’s album that was released on 911, and recorded before the event that left a deep grove in the minds of all New Yorkers. I am going there and will record our Seer Session for prosperity. We will demonstrate what it was like to grove to Bobby. We will throw the I CHING. There might not be a future. I told Christine I have not been able to SEE INTO THE FUTURE for the last three years. With the election of New York Trump, our fate might be sealed. All he wants to talk about is rockets and nuclear bombs. He thinks he is a genius. He is not! That is OUR problem!

I found Leonardo’s painting Salvatore Mundi ‘Savior of the World’. The Merovingian’s were buried with their crystal ball. Christine’s father gave her his crystal ball.


In ‘That Last Temptation of Christ’ a young girl pulls the nails out of the Savior on the cross, and he sires a family. The more I wanted a child, the more the Hunts aimed my daughter at Rosa Mundi so that family can touch genius – that I can not own a taste of!


This truth is taking us to FINIS MUNDI.

I can no longer ignore this image of my daughter holding up her temptation to me. Is this


My daughter did not want a father. Her mother had taken LSD and had a vision of her as the female messiah. She was out on a mission to find Rosamond so her mother can save the world. They really fucked everything up – as planned?

Jon Presco


Near the end of his life, an elderly Jesus calls his former disciples to his bed. Peter, Nathaniel, and a scarred John visit their master as Jerusalem is in the throes of the Jewish Rebellion against the Romans. Judas comes last and reveals that the youthful angel who released Jesus from the crucifixion is in fact Satan. Crawling back through the burning city of Jerusalem, Jesus reaches the site of his crucifixion and begs God to let him fulfill his purpose and to “let him be God’s son.”

Jesus then finds himself once more on the cross, having overcome the “last temptation” of escaping death, being married and raising a family, and the ensuing disaster that would have consequently encompassed mankind. Naked and bloody, Jesus cries out in ecstasy as he dies, “It is accomplished!”, in realisation that he has saved the soul of man. The screen flickers to white and the sound of triumphant bells tolling.[4]






Pynchon has to be the Minotaur simply because he is not good looking enough to be Dionysus. This genius of American Literature could not die a drunken womanizer. So, he sent his lover out of the Labyrinth to capture Dionysus, and bring him to center of the Labyrinth in order to meet her, Ariadne, the love of his life.

King Henry built a labyrinth at WOODSTOCK in order to put Fair Rosamond Clifford at its center. Henry claims he descends from the Kings of Troy. He was one of the most educated men vfgin the world. He built a zoo at WOODSTOCK, and out panthers within. There are three PANTHERS on his shield, and the shield of his father, Godfrey de Anjou. Queen Eleanore follows a RED THREAD to discover Rosamond so she can murder her, because…..she wanted it all!

In Pynchon’s book The Crying of Lot 49 is the red clue of Ariadne and Rosamond. This story parallels my autobiography ‘Capturing Beauty’ that is inspired by Rosamond’s labyrinth at WOODSTOCK. My late sister, Christine Rosamond Benton is the embodiment of Ariadne and Fair Rosamond. She is the spitting image of the woman in the top photo. She is the Woman Who Wants It All – like men want it all! She wants her cake and eat to. She is the woman who could not stand to be in the shadow of her narcissistic lover, the most charismatic god-man that ever lived.

When Mary Ann put V in my hands, a Author was born. My novel ‘The Gideon Computer’ is unfinished, because it began to come true, and, I had to get sober if I were to finish it.

About Royal Rosamond Press

I am an artist, a writer, and a theologian.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to I Am A Tragic Genius

  1. Reblogged this on Rosamond Press and commented:

    I Am Touching The Godhead. Putting is threatening to destroy the WWW.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.