The harvest of fools (the sacrifice – part 3)

The use of the word ‘fool’ in this article comes from the image in this tarot deck & as I’ve been told that a picture paints a thousand words, I set before you an image of a lively, inexperienced youth setting out on the path of adventure.

The baby shows us that there is much to learn. The woman, symbolic of the eons old female role – removed from the path of growth & adventure & tending to the needs of others. 

Had we not been mis-led down that path so completely, perhaps millions of fools would not have died.

I use of the word ‘fool’ in this article with respect,
to indicate
youthful & inexperienced boys
those who believed their commitment was valued
as a sneaky little device to trick your mind,
albeit briefly,
out of it’s programmed belief
heroic soldiers & sacrifice‘.

Figures vary, but going by wiki, twenty million people died in ‘The Great War’ of 1914-1918. That’s five times the number of people who live in NZ or one third of the population of the UK – either way my brain can’t comprehend it. Of these, over 9 million were fools:






It may seem like a long time ago, a thing dead & buried, & indeed until my attention was drawn there I thought so too.

British military historian Lyn MacDonald referred to 1915 as:

the Death of Innocence‘.

… & indeed the list of atrocities that bombarded the human psyche that year are something we cannot comprehend. A toxicity grasped the world & squeezed the innocence out of it. I believe that war was a ritual of initiation for the events that are unfolding so rapidly today, & that both the human psyche & that of this planet were in some way shattered or fractured back then. We are the descendants of that generation, their stories flow through our veins.

These articles which I have grouped together under the heading of the Sacrifice have taken on a life force of their own. The initial impetus came from being revolted by a statue called …

 … ‘the Sacrifice’ in the ANZAC memorial in Sydney. Over the last few weeks I felt a strong tug to look at war memorials of WWI. Before I go further I must say at times I feel like I’ve bitten off more that I can chew on this theme & there’s only so much I can point out, so please feel free to go browsing yourself.

My intuition says that there’s more to war memorials than we have been herded into believing. Prior to WWI, memorials to the ‘military dead’ were very rare indeed. Military successes were sometimes recorded (as in Arc de Triomphe or Nelson’s Column) but the dead fools of old (wars) were simply shovelled en mass into unmarked graves.

I’m told told that war memorials were ‘called for’ after the war, but I’ve been wondering if this was not as it was supposed to be. Looking at the colossal size & scope of some of these memorials leads me to feelings of hypocrisy. One of the ways that today’s media likes to induce guilt, is by labelling us as a throw-away society – well excuse me but… never in human existence was this more truly so than on the the battlefields of WWI, where human beings were today’s equivalent of paper towels – tear off, mop up & throw away.

Mention WWI & most people have a vague knowledge of trench warfare, poppies & names like Flanders & the Somme. Historians talk ‘knowledgeably’ (& endlessly) of battles & tactics – for myself I can only give my humble intuitive opinion that it’s all a mighty load of bollocks. I would call the stupidity of that war criminal, if there wasn’t a sense of ‘planned bungling’, a sense of something …

drawn out …

prolonged …

set up’.

I got this feeling when I looked at Gallipoli & it turns up again on the ‘Western Front‘.

If the German command had been able to choose a single stretch of their five-hundred mile front on which to beat an Allied offensive, they would have chosen to meet it on the Somme where their line was virtually impregnable.” ~Lyn MacDonald (Historian)

If WWI was a ritual of initiation or sacrifice on a worldwide scale then it needed to be brutal, prolonged & savage enough to carve a deep wedge into both the human psyche & that of the land. After the war what better way to keep that wedge open than with huge monuments placed on the sites of horrific bloodshed, their sheer size & magnitude an ongoing thorn in a raw wound.

The Great War saw the advent of ‘technology’ on the battlefield – machine guns, devastating fire power & poison gas, enough to mop up (kitchen towel analogy) thousands of fools in minutes & decimate the land.

The fields of Belgium & France were force fed a diet of the blood & bones.

A belief found in many societies throughout history, is that the soul of a person remains in their bones after death. They were considered sacred & believed to have great power –

Elisha died and was buried. Now Moabite raiders used to enter the country every spring. 21 Once while some Israelites were burying a man, suddenly they saw a band of raiders; so they threw the man’s body into Elisha’s tomb. When the body touched Elisha’s bones, the man came to life and stood up on his feet.

The care & tending of bones was of great concern;

8:1 At that time, saith the LORD, they shall bring out the bones of the kings of Judah, and the bones of his princes, and the bones of the priests, and the bones of the prophets, and the bones of the inhabitants of Jerusalem, out of their graves:
And they shall spread them before the sun, and the moon, and all the host of heaven, whom they have loved, and whom they have served, and after whom they have walked, and whom they have sought, and whom they have worshipped: they shall not be gathered, nor be buried; they shall be for dung upon the face of the earth.

Wandering around the internet further I found mention of Assyrian Kings who would hold the bones of their enemies up to sunlight as the worst possible punishment that could be inflicted on them. From earliest times bones have been used as amulets & charms & for magic.

So I have been wondering if our ancestors understood bones a lot better than we do, & if the soul really could reside within them. Who’s to say that we do actually shuffle off this mortal coil, perhaps we sleep within our bones & merely dream of bright lights, tunnels & pearly gates…

I think the blood & in particular the bones of a generation of fools impregnate the lands where they died, with vibrations of fear, hate & anguish. So is it by accident that a great portion of these are embedded in Belgium which houses the seat of both the European Union and NATO. Indeed Belgium has been called the Cockpit of Europe because more battles have been fought there than any other country – there is perhaps a great deal more to this area than we currently understand.

Lets take a look at some WWI memorials that we have been commanded to honour.

This little beauty (I’m joking) is the Douaumont Ossuary in France. A memorial that contains the bones of 130,000 unidentified French & German fools who died on the battlefield during the Battle of Verdun. The erection in the centre is colossal.

The Battle of Verdun lasted for 300 days during 1916. It was considered the greatest & lengthiest battle in the history of the world, fought on an area less of than ten square kilometres & causing over 700,000 causalities (dead, wounded, missing) – that’s a lot of kitchen towels.

Through small windows [in the ossuary], the remains of unidentified soldiers can actually be seen filling small, windowed alcoves around the edge of the building…The tower is 46 meters high and has a panoramic view of the battlefields. The cloister is 137 meters long and contains 42 alcoves. The tower contains a death-bell, ‘Bourdon de la Victoire’, which is sounded at official ceremonies and the lantern of the death (WTF) which shines on the battlefields” (wiki).

Does this perchance sound a little ritualistic – I know I would not wish a the skeleton of a fool I had loved, to lie in this closet.

War memorials are big business now, there are companies who specialise in tours ‘a la sacrifice’… please note the only charge for this trip is a mind that is willing to wonder.

Our next stop is the British Menin Gate Memorial located at the eastern exit of the town of Ypres (now called Ieper).

Ypres interested me. The town was decimated. In truth I think it deserves a whole article on it’s own, but for now this must suffice. I wondered about this town being expunged from the face of the earth. Something about the the Cloth Hall cried out for attention.

Over 5000 years ago the Egyptians named it [linen] “woven moonlight“, due to its very singular beauty… Art works from that time depict the progression from the harvesting to the treating of flax, to retting, hackling etc as a sequence of ceremonial actions. Linen was considered to be a symbol of purity.

In Ovid’s “Metamorphoses” the Egyptian goddess Isis is addressed as dea linigera which means the Linen Goddess. The linigeri (wearers of linen) were the priests belonging to the Isis cult in Rome”  Link

The truly gigantic Cloth Hall overlooks the Market Square, the political and economic heart of Ypres.

So we could perhaps say that the Cloth Hall was the goddess heart of Ypres. I think the land itself in Belgium & Northern France is somehow very important.

There were three Battles of Ypres, and as any good little follower of fairy tales knows, three is the magic number – the hero/heroine is the third offspring & must overcome three obstacles to achieve their destiny. The third Battle of Ypres is also known as Passchendaele, perhaps re-calling to mind the Passion of Christ (& echoing his threefold temptation by Satan & his thricely denial by Peter).

At 125 meters in breadth, with a 70-meter-high belfry tower, the Cloth Hall recalls the importance and wealth of the medieval trade city … In less enlightened times, cats, … were thrown off the belfry for reasons that are not clearly understood. Today, a jester commemorates this act by tossing stuffed toy felines from the tower during the triennial Cat Festival

Friday the 13th …is actually the High Holy day of the goddess Frigga … On Friday the 13th she came down and gave a coven of 12 Northern Witches a cat so their coven would total 13

And Frigga, Isis, Mary are merely names
Transient veils of the hallowed womb

Interesting then to also find the the patron of Ypres is Our Lady (Mary) of Thuyne (a sort of palisade fort) – bringing Mary, together with Isis & Frigga in the town of Ypres.

To return to the Menin Gate Memorial, we find it is a triumphal arch built at the eastern exit of Ypres, one of the main roads to the front line. It was designed by Sir Reginald Blomfield, built by the British Govt & opened in 1927. It’s inner walls are encrusted with the names of over 50,000 missing fools.

 On completion, we are told, the Menin Gate was found to be too small to contain all the names of the missing & so an “arbitrary cut-off point of 15 August 1917” was declared.  15th August coincidentally being the feast day of the Assumption of Mary aka Our Lady of Thuyne/Isis/Frigga.

Every evening at 8.00pm since 1928 (apart from the German Occupation during WWII) traffic is stopped & buglers play the Last Post.

That’s one hell of a remembering.

Introducing that absolute must have for all Rememberance services – the blood red poppy, seen here pouring through the roof of Menin Gate – did they fall or were they pushed?

The Menin Gate is just one of many memorials whose walls contain the names of tens of thousands of fools whose bodies were never found – yet I wonder how much that matters symbolically? In Romeo & Juliet, the fated heroine learns that there is a lot more to a name than she originally thought …

… a name does matter.

Our ancestors may have been a whole lot wiser than we are allowed to be today. There were many societies who believed that to know the name of someone was to ‘have power over them‘, ‘to know something intimate about them’. For this reason people often had two names, one they were known by & a sacred name they kept to themselves.

Because names are oft repeated – how many people do you know called say Tom, Dick (I think that one is probably dying out) or Harry?  Likewise with surnames – Smith, Jones, Robinson?  So it’s quite likely that one or both of your names are recorded on memorial walls somewhere in the world. I can’t help but wonder how much the energy of our names are hijacked or used as just one more method of control. To check the power of a name just notice your reactions when you hear someone call out your name, even if they are not referring to you. Names are magic:

Isis had decided that she would find out the secret name of her father Re, the sungod … To know his name would bring her equal power to him

Ok everyone back on board & lets head to Vimy Ridge Twin Towers errr sorry I mean the Canadian National Vimy Memorial.

This vast memorial inscription commemorates 66,000 fools who did not return to their homes at the end of the war.

The Battle of Vimy Ridge began on 9th April, 1917 which was Easter Monday & in true Easter timing it ran for 3 days. It was a military offensive against the German Sixth Army.

The names of 11,285 fools whose bodies were never recovered are carved into the walls & the same number of Canadian trees & shrubs are planted in the 250 acres of land that surrounds the monument. It took 11 years to build. It rests on 11,000 tonnes of concrete. The towering pylons & twice life-size statues contain almost 6,000 tonnes of limestone which took one year to transport …The pylons are each 30 metres high.

Behind all those interesting numbers lies a strange dream by its Canadian sculptor, Walter Seymour Allward –

he dreamed the Great Memorial well before the government competition was announced. He saw the huge twin pillars commemorating those who spoke French and those who spoke English, the allegorical figures with downcast or uplifted faces, and in the valley beneath the work of art, the flesh and bones and blood of the dead stirring in the mud. And then the dead themselves emerged like terrible naked flowers, pleading for a memorial to the disappeared, the vanished ones… those who were unrecognizable and unsung. The ones earth had eaten, as if her appetite were insatiable; as if benign nature had developed a carnal hunger, a yawning mouth, a sinkhole capable of swallowing, forever, one-third of those who had fallen. A messy burial without a funeral, without even a pause in the frantic slaughter.

In one of the innumerable books I’ve browsed through over the last few weeks I found a strange statue of a half naked women in an unusual pose. I was rather surprised because of the amount of holier than thou material I’d waded through regarding sacrifice & I found it hard to link …

… this image, with that.

Further browsing lead to more images, this one …

… is France apparently…

while this lady …

“Canada Mourning”, is so deeply upset she fails to notice the downward drift of her nightdress.

It has been suggested that the statue is a reference to traditional images of Mater Dolorosa (the Virgin Mary in mourning)

May I suggest the word ‘bollocks’?

I think the likliehood of a woman mourning like these images is pretty slim – I’d give it about the same odds as a guy getting his tackle out a a funeral. For me it reinforces the idea that these memorials are so ‘sacred’ that no one even thinks to question what might be behind them.

I’m sure there are many who would inform me that this is art, but these statues make me uncomfortable. I’m sure that had they lived, the majority of the 66,000 fools, would have thoroughly enjoyed these statues. But this is about sacrifice & gruesome death & I have to wonder what the sum of grief, guilt (inspired by memorials) & sexual arousal might be?

What energies might it attract?

You may recognise this visitor from 2nd June, 1940

Interesting little read here.

That ends the voyeristic part of the tour. We head now to the Somme for the last leg of this journey.

In an incident reminiscent of celebrations-kicked-off with-a-fireworks-extravaganza, the Battle of the Somme was ushered in at 7.28am on 1st July, 1916 by what was at the time, the two biggest manmade explosions in history. One of these, Lochnagar Crater, was created by 60,000 lbs of Ammonal explosive –

The whole earth heaved and flashed, a tremendous and magnificent column rose up in the sky. There was an ear-splitting roar drowning all the guns, flinging the machine sideways in the repercussing air. The earth column rose higher and higher to almost 4,000 feet. There it hung, or seemed to hang, for a moment in the air, like the silhouette of some great cypress tree, then fell away in a widening cone of dust and debris.” – 2nd Lieutenant C.A.Lewis

Lochnagar Crater is one of the few remaining visible wounds to the land.
It is a massive 300 feet wide & 90 feet deep.
It attracts 300,000 visitors a year.

I find this image disturbing –
just what energy is being ‘re-called‘?

The last & largest Memorial to the Missing on this tour, is Thiepval Memorial to the Missing of the Somme.

A massive arched structure that dominates the local countryside. Made from bricks & stone in a colour combination I seem to be finding with more & more frequency – red & white.

Unveiled in 1932.

Actually I wonder what that is about – this concept of unveiling – & if we should not perhaps read that in the opposite way – a symbol of the wool being pulled over our eyes, rather than lifted.

Being ignorant of architecture, I must defer to the more knowledgable who seem to concur that it is an amazing structure:

When viewed on one of the principal axes, the Thiepval Memorial can be appreciated as a composition of open arches, yet when seen from an angle, up close, it seems intimidatingly solid, with cubic masses of masonry building up on alternate axes to create a vast, pyramid-like structure” ~Gavin Stamp (The Memorial to the Missing of the Somme)

From other angles, however, it resembles a pyramid or ziggurat


The most famous ziggurat is, of course, the “tower of Babel

Thiepval’s walls hold the names/souls of around 73,000 fools whose bodies were never found.

In front of the Memorial lie 600 graves –300 crosses for French fools & 300 gravestones for the English. It was opened on the 31st July 1932 – the same date that saw the grand opening of Passcehndaele in 1917 – the death/feast day of St Ignatius Loyola.

One thing that bothers me about these memorials is the time, planning & expense that went into them, when the lives of millions of fools were throw-away – since using the paper towel analogy earlier in this article, I have not been able to use them without thinking of those so ‘liberally sacrificed’.

The whole ‘memorial thing‘ began, I’m told, with a man with a long name – Major General Sir Fabian Arthur Goulstone Ware, KCVO, KBE, CB, CMB founder of the Imperial War Graves Commission (IWGC), to record the whereabouts of graves:

As the war continued, Ware became concerned about the fate of the graves after the war. With the help of the (then) Edward, Prince of Wales, in 1917, he submitted a memorandum on the subject to the Imperial War Conference. On 21 May 1917, the Imperial War Graves Commission was created by a Royal Charter, with the Prince of Wales as its President and Ware as its Vice-Chairman

The IWGC recruited three of the most eminent archtiects of the day to design it memorials & cemetries:

  1. Sir Edwin Lutyens (Thiepval, The Cenotaph at Whitehall)
  2. Sir Reginald Blomfield (Menin Gate)
  3. Sir Herbert Baker.

I feel that knighting grants royalty, an ownership of the knightee (as well as their achievements) – that would make war memorials the property of the crown. Where would that leave the names or bones of the fools?

These men created huge memorials plus the standard form of military cemetery.

The rectangular headstones so well known these days were the creation of Lutyens. He also envisioned the altar-likeStone of Rememberance  found in all the best Commonwealth cemetries:

that it shall take the form of one great fair stone of fine proportions, twelve feet in length, lying raised upon three steps, of which the first and third shall be twice the length of the second; and that each stone shall bear in indelible lettering, some fine thought or words of dedication“(from the Memorial to the Missing of the Somme-Gavin Stamp).

Sounds like rather jehovian proportions to me.

There was a (human) outcry against the cruelty of not letting families have a say in the burials of their loved ones – in fact the exhumation of bodies from foreign lands was prohibited. A heated parliamentary debate in May 1920 crushed all opposition when it was decided that once a man had enlisted, his body, alive or dead, belonged to the King.

The Cross of Sacrifice was designed to add an apparent Christian element to what was perceived by some as rather pagan memorials & cemetries.

It to has an interesting design, consisting of an octagonal stepped base, supporting a tall stone cross upon whose face is fixed a bronze sword.

If you’ve made it thus far thanks for sticking with me.

I first got interested in War Memorials when I saw the Sacrifice at the ANZAC memorial in Sydney.

There are some things in this world that have been painted so ‘sacred‘ that we see them only as we are told to. Well now I’ve opened my eyes enough to look at memorials & what they symbolise & why they’re there. It’s really a huge topic & I can only touch on a few right now without wearing out my keyboard & your goodwill.

We have learned our history lessons well – a convincing thread has been woven through the last hundred years & tied with a bloody bow. We are told of man’s inhumanity to man & we’ve been given memorials to remind us lest we forget’. Our neighbours are forever a threat to us, the savage nature of the human simmers just below the surface.

We’ve also been told that it was the World Wars that allowed women new freedoms & responsibilites – I’m going to suggest differently.

Long before WWI, women were starting to open their eyes & seek a needed freedom. The women’s sufrage movement began around the mid 1800’s. Now because men & women belong to the same human race, an awakening in one sex would surely have coincided with some change in the other. It is my suggestion that WWI & its partner WWII were at least partly created to delay & warp the partnership of the sexes which is striving to manifest in these times.

War memorials carry the masculine energy of hundreds of thousands of fools – could it be that they are energetically plugged into the ‘earth mother’ to keep open a wound male v female that needs to heal?

In the book Divine Beauty by John O’Donohue, he suggests that the landscape, the first beauty of the earth has been waiting for centuries for the recognition & witness of the human eye. He quotes Rilke:

Perhaps we are here in order to say: house
bridge, fountain, gate, pitcher, fruit-tree, window…
To say them more intensely than the Things themselves
Ever dreamed of existing

O’Donohue continues:

How can we ever know the difference we make to the soul of the earth? Where the infinite stillness of the earth meets the passion of the human eye, invisible depths strain towards the mirror of the name. In the word, the earth breaks silence. It has waited a long time for the word. Concealed beneath familiarity & silence, the earth holds back & it never occurs to us to wonder how the earth sees us. Is it possible that a place could have a huge affection for those who dwell there?…We tend to think of death as a return to clay, a victory for nature. But maybe it is the converse: that when you die your native place will fill with sorrow.

Are these not beautiful thoughts. If O’Donohue is right I would surmise that the architects of war & suffering understand these ideas all too well, & that partnership of land & human (just as with human & human) must be repelled at all costs in order to retain their bloody control.

When originally writing this article I lost half of it – it left me literally shocked. I know that you who are reading this will have suffered far greater traumatic shocks in your life, somewhere I have read that shocks cause lesions in the brain – you know how it feels & you know the importance of recovering from it. What would four years of incalculable shocks have done to our great grandparents & the earth they lived in?

World War I is really outside the awareness of most of us who are alive now. It has been transformed via movies, historic ‘fact’ & the industry of Rememberance into an heroic myth. Coincidentally (yeah right) other great changes happened at the same time. 1917 saw the Russian Revolution, another radical destruction & rebirth & the US became a new focal point of the world… and last but not least one of the greatest inventions for the control of humanity was taking it’s baby steps towards meglomania – the movie industry.

I really don’t know whether 2012 is worth the hype, but certainly control is the game now & there is the feeling of a rush towards a final showdown – if this is the case then I think the titles WWI & WWII are a tad misleading and in fact what we’ve been experiencing is more like a hundred years war that began in 1914.

I leave you with thought from Divine Beauty:

Fashioned from clay, we carry the memory of the earth. Ancient, forgotten things stir within our hearts, memories from the time before the mind was born. Within us are depths that keep watch

~  ~  ~

This is an updated version of an article I wrote a couple of years ago. Tomorrow, in New Zealand, it is ANZAC Day – our ‘Memorial Day’ – as all the poppy propaganda appeared in the streets I mulled over the idea of re-posting.  A skype comment left by my friend & country-mate Fitzy today, decided me:

ANZAC day tomorrow. Idiots will celebrate feeding babies to a demon, yay! How fucking patriotic. Drives me nuts

I double-checked that it was ok to use Fitzy’s words …

[10:31:22 p.m.] Alex Robinson: you feeling brave?

[10:32:03 p.m.] fitzy: Not lately. Apathetic maybe…

[10:32:18 p.m.] Alex Robinson: gonna throw you under the bus

[10:32:36 p.m.] fitzy: Awesome. Sounds great.

[10:33:24 p.m.] Alex Robinson: check this out then

[10:33:32 p.m.] fitzy: Will it hurt?

[10:33:42 p.m.] Alex Robinson: its …  dangerous

[10:33:48 p.m.] Alex Robinson: “This is an updated version of an article I wrote a couple of years ago.  Tomorrow, in New Zealand, it is ANZAC Day – our ‘Memorial Day’.  As all the poppy propaganda appeared in the streets I mulled over the idea of re-posting.  A skype comment left by my friend & country-mate Fitzy today, decided me:

ANZAC day tomorrow. Idiots will celebrate feeding babies to a demon, yay! How fucking patriotic. Drives me nuts”

[10:34:07 p.m.] fitzy: Yep. I stand by that.

[10:34:12 p.m.] Alex Robinson: cool & groovy

[10:34:21 p.m.] Alex Robinson: we’ll go down together so to speak

[10:34:29 p.m.] fitzy: Neat!

[10:34:37 p.m.] Alex Robinson: :)

[10:34:43 p.m.] fitzy: What species venerates war?

April 24, 2012. Uncategorized.


  1. Max replied:

    My great-grandfather fought in both WWI and WWII. I’ve never had the chance to talk with him about his expierience, neither I further asked my grandfather what his father told him about war. Their relationship were difficult anyway.

    Movies are the way of today to imprint a stylized image of war into our heads. Modern media probably replaced fancy looking uniforms in this context.

  2. transcenddesigns replied:

    Absolutely beautiful post once again Alex,
    these memorials you’ve shown are simply astonishing,
    and yet fit right in with this whole picture-puzzle that’s been pieced together over these past years by yourself and the brave others who decided to forge a path of truth
    (Kephas, Rebel, Kyle, Tiki just to name a few friendly notables… : )

    I couldn’t help but think of the 2 nearest parks to us here in NJ that newly unveiled their ‘911 Memorials’ this past year, complete with a wretched I-beam directly from the site… : P

    one can be viewed here:,r:9,s:0,i:89

    anyway, thanks again for a wonderful HERstory lesson,
    I much rather prefer Herstory to History anyday… : )

    btw that bit about Hitlor is such a red flag how he had to protect that place,
    it’s amazing how much of this stuff has been swept under the carpet all these years,
    thank you for helping to ‘hold these old bones out in the Sun’…

    Be well…

  3. alex replied:

    Alex! Your name and mine. Wonderful thoughts. We have a lot of WW I memorials here in the part of Germany where I live as well. I live in hills, but I drive in about 25 minutes (depending on the traffic) to the Rhine. On clear, non-chemtrail days, I can see the mountains in Rhineland-Palatinate respectively in the south the Vosges in Alsace (which used to be a part of Germany back then, the Elsass as we say). My Grandmother had to hide in the basement in 1945, the town Bruchsal where I went to school and still work was completely destroyed March 1st 1945.

    Anyways. I really can’t stand these ugly monuments. We don’t have large ones here, this one is in the village next to mine

    Also Unteröwisheim in front of the catholic church

    In Oberacker, another little village here

    Looks like a phallic symbol. These things are sinister and the people who design them are (for me) black magicians.

    Thank you for your great blog, I really love how inspiring your thoughts are! And I always love to hear you on a radio show as well :)

  4. alex robinson replied:

    Hi Max
    I’ve heard that those who were in the war seldom talked of their experiences – makes me wonder what they originally thought about memorials i.e. before the propaganda of remembering was sold to them.

    WAR = RAW but movies made (spot)light of them.

    very best to you

    Thanks Brad
    Cheers for the pics – there seems to be so much effort put into getting us to go back & back & back into the past – to remember = to ‘recreate’ a done deal – what use is there in that to us? As an artist you will know what a killer to creation, that is. I can’t help connecting this to the fucked up notion of forgiveness – another method that pretends interest in the present & future, while chaining you to that past, because you are left chasing the illusory notion that forgiveness is a doable or even worthwhile, activity.

    The one thing that we are not supposed to do is drop this baggage & move on, thus methinks that just might be the most important.

    Btw thanks so much for your comment at tiki’s site, I just didn’t want to go back there again & cramp his excellent style.

    very best to you

    Hi alex also :]

    Thanks for the images – yes aren’t they ugly! I’ve yet to see something that isn’t repulsive to the eye & heart – there’s an intensity & heaviness to them that is extremely unsettling> ‘Black magic designers’ is a good way to call it.

    When I first started questioning them I was pretty nervous, expecting a backlash because it’s not something you are allowed to question, there was almost a feeling of being treasonous. Yet if we don’t question, does that make us accomplices to the wiping out of millions of paper towels, err sorry I mean, soldiers?

    Ok then … I’ll be on Talkshoe 42 minutes on May 1st if you want to listen in :]

    very best to you

  5. Dennis replied:

    I view the war 1 footage on the military channel on occaison, always makes me sad. What an introspective on wars, true and truth. Thank you. This world needs many more like you. Shine forth, Dennis

  6. alex robinson replied:

    Gracias Dennis

  7. Mick replied:

    This is long, but pertinent:

    In a further myth, non-Buddhist Tibet itself appears as the embodiment of Srinmo (Janet Gyatso, 1989, p. 44). The local demoness is said to have resisted the introduction of the true teaching by the Buddhist missionaries from India with all means at her disposal, with weaponry and with magic, until she was ultimately defeated by the great king of law, Songtsen Gampo (617-650), an incarnation of Avalokiteshvara (and thus of the current Dalai Lama). “The lake in the Milk plane,” writes the Tibet researcher Rolf A. Stein, “where the first Buddhist king built his temple (the Jokhang), represented the heart of the demoness, who lay upon her back. The demoness is Tibet itself, which must first be tamed before she can be inhabited and civilized. Her body still covers the full extent of Tibet in the period of its greatest military expansion (eighth to ninth century C.E.). Her spread-eagled limbs reached to the limits of Tibetan settlement … In order to keep the limbs of the defeated demoness under control, twelve nails of immobility were hammered into her” (Stein, 1993, p.34). A Buddhist temple was raised at the location of each of these twelve nailings.
    Mysterious stories circulate among the Tibetans which tell of a lake of blood under the Jokhang, which is supposed to consist of Srinmo’s heart blood. Anyone who lays his ear to the ground in the cathedral, the sacred center of the Land of Snows, can still — many claim — hear her faint heartbeat. A comparison of this unfortunate female fate with the subjugation of the Greek dragon, Python, at Delphi immediately suggests itself. Apollo, the god of light (Avalokiteshvara), let the earth-monster, Python (Srinmo), live once he had defeated it so that it would prophesy for him, and built over the mistreated body at Delphi the most famous oracle temple in Greece.
    The earth demoness is nailed down with phurbas. These are ritual daggers with a three-sided blade and a vajra handle. We know these already from the Kalachakra ritual, where they are likewise employed to fixate the earth spirits and the earth mother. The authors who have examined the symbolic significance of the magic weapon are unanimous in their assessment of the aggressive phallic symbolism of the phurba.
    In their view, Srinmo represents an archetypal variant of the Mother Earth figure known from all cultures, whom the Greeks called Gaia (Gaea). As nature and as woman she stands in stark contrast to the purely spiritual world of Tantric Buddhism. The forces of wilderness, which rebel against androcentric civilization, are bundled within her. She forms the feminine shadow world in opposition to the masculine paradise of light of the shining Amitabha and his radiant emanation son, Avalokiteshvara. Srinmo symbolizes the (historical) prima materia, the matrix, the primordial earthly substance which is needed in order to construct a tantric monastic empire, then she provides the gynergy, the feminine élan vitale, with which the Land of Snows pulsates. As the vanquisher of the earth goddess, Avalokiteshvara triumphs in the form of King Songtsen Gampo, that is, the same Bodhisattva who, as a monkey, earlier engendered with Srinmo the Tibetans in myth, and who shall later exercise absolute dominion from the “Roof of the World” as Dalai Lama.
    Tibet’s sacred center, the Jokhang (the cathedral of Lhasa), the royal chronicles inform us, thus stands over the pierced heart of a woman, the earth mother Srinmo. This act of nailing down is repeated at the construction of every Lamaist shrine, whether temple or monastery and regardless of where the establishment takes place — in Tibet, India, or the West. Then before the first foundation stone for the new building is laid, the tantric priests occupy the chosen location and execute the ritual piercing of the earth mother with their phurbas. Tibet’s holy geography is thus erected upon the maltreated bodies of mythic women, just as the tantric shrines of India (the shakta pithas) are found on the places where the dismembered body of the goddess Sati fell to earth.
    In contrast to her Babylonian sister, Tiamat, who was cut to pieces by her great-grandchild, Marduk, so that outer space was formed by her limbs, Srinmo remains alive following her subjugation and nailing down. According to the tantric scheme, her gynergy flows as a constant source of life for the Buddhocratic system. She thus vegetates — half dead, half alive — over centuries in the service of the patriarchal clergy. An interpretation of this process according to the criteria of the gaia thesis often discussed in recent years would certainly be most revealing. (We return to this point in our analysis of the ecological program of the Tibetans in exile.) According to this thesis, the mistreated “Mother Earth” (Gaia is the popular name for the Greek earth mother) has been exploited by humanity (and the gods?) for millennia and is bleeding to death. But Srinmo is not just a reservoir of inexhaustible energy. She is also the absolute Other, the foreign, and the great danger which threatens the Buddhocratic state. Srinmo is — as we still have to prove — the mythic “inner enemy” of Tibetan Lamaism, while the external mythic enemy is likewise represented by a woman, the Chinese goddess Guanyin.

    • alex robinson replied:

      Brilliant information Mick – not so long ago I read some ideas about how Buddhism does not like women, perhaps that should be read as does not like ‘the feminine’ – but then it seems like we could take that & spread it across all religion, they all seem to fear the feminine.

      Maybe it has nothing to do with the ‘deadly/chaotic/demonised’ aspect that has been so artfully crafted upon the female, but rather ‘her’ (we’re talking balanced/healthy female here) ability for creating, caring for, uniting & humanising.

      Really great info, thanks!

  8. Johnny replied:

    Hmm, the angle of your ANZAC photo lends to the sun the appearance of a rusty circular saw blade about to inflict even more distress to the seemingly already aggrieved supine figure.

    Symbolism – should just file it upright in the waste basket.

    Greetings from Canada,

  9. alex robinson replied:

    ‘Unpleasantly’ well spotted John:)

    & as you are from Canada … Kyle Hunt sent me this link today

    best to you

  10. Mick replied:

    O the laughing priests of Babalon, holding forth their sigils of power. Yuk!

    Anyhow, another quote which states how things are under the beguiling veneer of modern ‘reality’. Nothing has changed in thousands of years, technology being no more than sorcery. Not saying it’s intrinsically bad, it’s just what energy you use:

    “If human history is dependent upon the will of supernatural beings in the ancient view of things, then it is a necessary conclusion that humans cannot influence history directly, but rather only via a religious “detour”, that is, through entreating the gods. For this reason, the priests, who could establish direct contact with the transcendent powers, had much weight in politics. The ritual, the oracle, and the prayer thus had primary status in ancient societies and were often more highly valued than the decisions of a regent. In particular, the sacrificial rite performed by the priests was regarded as the actual reason whether or not a political decision met with success. The more valuable the sacrifice, the greater the likelihood that the gods would prove merciful. For this reason, and in order to be able to even begin the war against Troy, Agamemnon let his own daughter, Iphigeneia, be ritually killed in Aulis.”

    Generally, women make the most powerful sacrifice.



  11. alex robinson replied:

    Hmmm (& hello) Mick … If women make the most powerful sacrifices perhaps we can also make the most potent changes.

    Iphigeneia was a stupid woman from what I have read – i.e she gave in to being sacrificed instead of following her correct role of being a life giver. There’s way too many tales of dead heroines for the good of mankind – I remember falling for a tale of a WWII heroine called Violette Szabo – now I wonder why so many dead women & why were their deaths made so commendable & dramatic?

    very best to you

  12. Mick replied:

    Hi Alex, certainly women can make the most powerful changes, that has been proven time and again. The point I was trying to make is that within our manipulated history it is the female energy which is used to propagate a corrupt reality. We live in a world of sorcery and deception, which hasn’t changed since at least 4000BC. I’ve just been repeating what you have been saying.
    I have sympathy for Iphigeneia, as I reckon she was trapped with no way out. We shouldn’t impose modern values, should we?
    A good example of a heroine who died young, and who received unwanted fame, is Grace Darling. She was certainly potent when it counted.

    Much Respect


    • alex robinson replied:

      Hello Mick
      Thanks to corruption of language, concepts & thinking you have provided an array of ideas that could be read as containing ‘hostile intent’ from a female perspective.

      Alternatively I might feel that I said the wrong things & now need to apologise & explain.

      Instead I send hugs & no words at all, other than these.

  13. Mick replied:

    Oh, I didn’t mean to offend or insult. I think there is hostile intent against the feminine on a fundamental energetic level, and that is being used as a power source. I should have clarified my own thoughts rather than just posting quotes.

    Hugs gratefully received and reciprocated :-)

  14. matshanley replied:

    Memorial Day weekend in the States:
    Something something something HEROES.
    Something something something SACRIFICE.
    Something something something OUR FREEDOMS.
    All weekend with this shit!

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