The ability to see the future, for real, is a terrible burden I have owned most of my life. You are always open to attack from just person who you let get close to you, and, then attacks you because they perceive you own a gift. There is a special energy about you that they want a taste of. Trying to destroy you, attaches themselves to you, so they can suck your gift away. They also were in need of attention.
An artist, writer, poet, prophet must put his WORK before the public. This is the part I never liked, because I go into a incredible trance when I create. I leave this world, and go to places very few know exist. I walked around in a daze in this town of Springfield, in a daze pulling up more images from the dialogue that came out of nowhere. Since I was a child, if I am found out while in this trance, my peer, and my parents, tried to hurt me. Kim Hafner and Chas Cunningham are the latest – Assaulters of Visionaries! I need to identify how they work, how they do it, so they can be stopped, and punished! Creative People have to open up, and leave themselves, vulnerable.
I had no idea the work of Ian Fleming was going to be a vehicle for my Psychic Gifts. I am a Seer. I soon saw that there was this Guessing Game going on about Bond 25. The Mass Mind was being fed from above, they allowed to play the Bond Game. I suspected they were being polled, in a covert manner. I had seen evidence of this in News Items about Bond Fan Clubs. One newspaper lifted a Bond drawing, done by a fan. Chas Cunningham was aware of this game, and was controlling it. When he saw my posts about me being kin to Elizabeth Taylor, he knew I would eventually get some attention from Roving Head in the Sky. This is why he banned me.
In April I posted on The Post Parade. I had to get some of my visions down. My head was overwhelmed with INSPIRATION. This post are PROOF I can see into the future. I state I am having a prophetic experience. This gift is rendered very important because I did not see the Pope coming to Ireland, and did not know until two days ago. When was this decided? Sure Francis knew how important his visit would be. He is trying to save the Catholic Church. What was going on in his mind in the last five months – should be made public! Francis needs to author an book. If he represents God and Jesus, then his inner thoughts belong to all the people. We need to see if God-Jesus instructed him. I am talking about a FULL CONFESSION the likes the Catholic Church has never known. For, God will find a way!
Blue McDonald was a devout Catholic radical who is transformed after Victoria pours ells down his gullet as if he were a baby bird. A new religion is forming. There has been a transformation. He is seen a World Hero. He goes on tour. In theory, he comes out on that stage in Dublin, and moons the Pope, who is concealing the truth, that he knew about the abuse of children.
John Presco 007
A SCOTTISH Orange Order parade planned to go past a Glasgow church where the priest was spat on and attacked on the Twelfth of July has been cancelled.
The march was due to pass St Alphonsus Church, in Calton today, but after a meeting between the council and organisers from the Grand Orange Lodge of Scotland it will now not go ahead.
Canon Tom White was allegedly called “fenian scum” by followers of the parade, spat on and lunged at by a man with a baton.
The Orange Order had condemned the attack and said none of its members were involved.
The Evening Times in Glasgow reported that there could have been protests had a march been allowed to go ahead this weekend.
Council leader Susan Aitken held meetings with police and council officials to discuss possible action and warned the local authority could re-route it.
The Royal Janitor
Call Me Blue
Blue McDonald paced back stage like a wild animal, or a mad-dog Gladiator who couldn’t wait to get in the arena and slaughter his first pack of cry-baby Christians. When the curtain opened a gap in the line, out he rushed to center stage. He now wished he had worn a larger collar because the blood was coursing through his neck arteries like a slege hammer. He yanked at his tie, and a button flew into the audience. Because of the spotlights, he did not witness the mad scrum for it. He had heard he was famous – real famous – but, he had not experienced that as yet. Thinking he had arrived, he now hears a crescendo of BOOS pouring down on him – like an avalanche!
“BLUE! BLUE! BLUUUUE!
“What the fook!” Blue uttered with a snarl, then started rushing back and forth on the stage, giving everyone in the front rows – THE BIRD!
“Feck you all! I knew it was a mistake to come to Brussels! FECK BRUSSLES! And feck you you belly-wog scum-sucking panty-wipe!
This made the audience boo that much louder, and now their were waves of laughter as they tought this was part of the show.
About to leap off the stage, Sergent McLean, the Grand Master of the Orange Lodge, rushed out and grabbed Blue’s arm.
“Listen you half-cocked limey. They are saying BLUE! Your name – moron! They love – YOU!”
“Throw us your shirt!” a young woman shouts!
“Take it off! cries two more beauties.
Blue ripped off his new shirt that was cramping his style, and tore it into shreds.
“Have at it ladies!”
But, this did not satisfy the ladies up front.
“Show us your bumm!” a cute dimples lass ventured, then blushed a bright pink. This was her first time she tried to be naughty and bold, it safe to do so after the Great Understand that Victoria gifted the world with.
“O.K. CAAAALM! Down. You’re beginning to make me fearful. At the end of the slide show I will unbuckle my pants.
“At your own pace Sweety!
Picking up the laser pointer and click. Blue presents one of the most famous photos of all time. He is on a paddy wagon with the defrocked Catholic renegade priest, Conrad Fitz-Willy.
“He was so crazy, they threw him out of Opus Dey. Thank God the camera moved before we saw his Willy Nilly! That’s me on the left!
“Now you all saw this one. THE most famous photograph in the world. What a skinny-ass runt I was. I’ve put on weight, hence!”
Now, here is a photo of my brother Lou with Victoria Bond. He is teaching her to ski in the Alps. This is the last photo taken of them, before the avalanche.”
Blue looks up at the black screen. This heartbreaking pic has not come up. He clicks the clicker a few more times, and, is now having another fit of fury!
“Fook! Ladies and gentleman, I cant’ pull up that image. Can I get some………?”
All of sudden there is a video of Victoria picking up her guitar.
“I dedicate this song to my dear friend Blue, and Lou, because their names are similar!”
Blue was shaken. He was not ready, and was trembling on stage. Just before Victoria struck her first chord, Blue shouted;
“This is for my late brother! I love you man!”
There literally was not a dry eye in the house, after Victoria’s beautiful frail voice sang the first three lines.
Rushing back stage Blue grabs the Searge by his sash, and with a look of total joy, shouts!
“They’re alive! That was no malfunction. Victoria taught me how to look for signs. She has a Guardian Angel. They are calling to me. We got to go back to Switzerland – NOW!
Blue and the Sarge rand ran out of the arena ignoring the chant for an encore! Their pounding feet in the hall, matched the pounding feet in the arena. It took Blue back to the time he first met Victoria. He exposed his bum to her, and she pulled the flute part of her contraption, and would have shoved it up his ass, if McLean had not stopped her.
“BLUE! BLUE! BLUE!
The Royal Janitor
The Eel Queen
After Victoria Bond was crowned Britain’s ‘Eel Queen of the Nile’ she didn’t know what direction her life had taken. The congratulations letter she got from the Pope, confused and alarmed her. As she took in the words of one of the most powerful men on earth, the hair on her arms stood up – and vibrated! This never happened before.
Dear Ms. Bond
I was just as surprised as you to learn there was a secret society called ‘The Sacred Order of the Eel’. It appears that many of the world’s religious mysteries are now being solved. Why no one considered it was an eel that adorned Cleopatra’s crown, is a dereliction of duty. That Alexander the Great was trying to corner the river eel market, makes perfect sense. Who knows how powerful you will become. But, let me remind you what the Roman slave said to the Triumphetor;
“All glory……is fleeting.”
It was right after this, that the Sea Leprechauns began to appear. They gave Victoria very cryptic messages that she assumed were warnings. Most of them were quite pedestrian. She suspected they were practicing on her, perhaps preparing her for some unseen event. While putting petrol in Greycloud, one of them ( he was wearing a fishing net) gave her some good advice.
“Et twood de ya a wood of goot to attend the Basel Guild parade!”
The next day, she went to see her travel agent, and one of these, things, was sweeping the walkway outside.
“What ever yet dood, dood not goat te Basel Infuct – RUN! Run lassie, as fast as you can!”
We are in Pure Prophecy. I wonder if I am like Jonah, being, God wants me to open my Bible to Revelations and tell my reader……..WHAT I SEE!
Tim responds to several of my posts from my old blog ‘The Bohemian Democratic Register, a name based upon the Eugene paper Joaquin Miller was the editor for. Mill befriended the Pre-Raphaelites in England. He might have met William Morris.
Mary Ann Thoraldsen owned a signed copy of Gravities Rainbow – with dedication. My ex-wife became friends with Thomas Pynchon, and his best friend, Richard Farina, at Cornell. She did a life-size portrait of Richard’s wife, and beloved Muse, Mimi Baez, the sister of Joan, whose song inspired me to do a life-size portrait of my wife, that got me put in handcuffs by a judge, who earlier captured two prisoners trying to escape from the Oakland Courthouse jail. He grabbed his gun out of his drawer, climbed out onto the roof, and ordered the down on the grown. This semi-nude was inspired by the story Mary Ann told me about her and Pynchon in Mexico. I told it in this blog, but, seeing any made up story, or idea, related to Pynchon, is as good as gold, I am saving it – not for a rainy day, but, goddamn it, I deserve a pay day. I almost went to Holland last year.
I have seen a lot of gunplay. Twice I played chess for someone’s life. The idea is to give your opponent a good game – and a victory! Then, the hostage…….is released!