Current Events: “What’s in a name?” High-jacking the power of words & associations, by MIKE EYE

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What’s in a name? Before the new millennium, I never thought much about the power of names. I hadn’t any idea that there could be so much extra baggage metaphysically attached to someone’s name. Just like how now-a-days, you can embed the track name, number, and genre in one MP3 song file, unnoticeable attachments are quantumly combined with the actual phonetics, pronunciation, and association of the names of people, places, and even things. 

For example, when I say the word “ISIS?” What’s the first thing that comes to mind? Do you immediately think of the lovely Greek Goddess of fertility? I used to, until the media purposefully sabotaged the word “ISIS,” forevermore associating it with a group* of misled, brainwashed barbarians with chips on their shoulders in just the same way Donald Trump has sabotaged a group* of our country’s representatives known as the Republican Party. By the exploitation of names and what they’ve come to represent. 

When referring to the militant group*, “ISIS” is the name chosen by the media to be used across the board, and it stands for the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria. Now, anyone who’s done just a little bit of internet research knows that, not only does this militant group* NOT refer to themselves as ISIS, but are trying to expand their territory and terror worldwide, as I understand, as we have seen with what’s happened in Paris, Brussels, and our US. I’m pretty sure all US media is owned by one person, that’s why all the news stations have exactly the same formats and stories and times. This One person, “hidden behind the curtain,” cleverly avoids the stigma of the group* mind and is left undisturbed. By insisting on using the majestic, compassionate name of ISIS, goddess of fertility, to independently describe this insane militant group,* who represents the opposite notion, the media has been using the simple and powerful, effective psychological phenomenon known as reverse psychology on us, and through constant repetition on many dimensional levels. Not to mention the media has forever tainted the essence of one of my favorite heavy metal bands, ISIS.

That leaves us with two other names publicly used to supposedly represent the same evil terror group*. For one, the government has never referred to this group* as ISIS, preferring to call them ISIL. This acronym stands for the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant, the Levant being much more land than just Syria. But still, from my understanding, I thought that this “terror group,*” whatever they should be called, wanted to take over a good part of, if not the entire world, and perversely murder any person who didn’t “submit to Islam.”

Which brings us to the other “name” describing this “terror group,*” the “Islamic State,” which, besides articles online, I have seen this term being used on public television, and is the name that the group itself prefers to be called, if I am not mistaken. It’s more than just the first “I” and “S” in ISIS; their purposeful omission of precisely WHERE their “Islamic State” IS in it’s name is very curious. I imagine they may be trying to let the world know that what they stand for and who they believe in, and what they do, is actually Islam, the name, and everything it represents. President Obama has spoken multiple times about how he thinks what “ISIL” stands for is indeed NOT what true Islam is about, so now we have a HUGE general mass miss-understanding of what the fuck “Islam” IS, so much so that Trump, should he be president, would implement “a complete shutdown of Muslims entering the United States” and blacklist the so-called “Vanilla Muslims” at Home who “haven’t been radicalized yet” and start heavily psychotronically surveying all of these Muslim Americans as well as resident aliens (not to mention anybody with any diagnosed psychological disorder), as if doing that could actually solve the problem of what he calls “radical Islamic terrorism,” or what Obama might call “acts of terror.”

Now, I hate to quote Rush Limbaugh here, I don’t care much for his views, but here is a quote from him that describes a great example of what, really, “is in a name.”

“I think [President Obama]’s got a different audience for the term [ISIL]. I don’t think he’s talking to the American people. I think he’s talking to Iran. We just heard Walid Phares say that Obama’s linkage here is not to oppose ISIL because Iran supports ISIL, and it’s all to do with the sectarian violence between the Sunnis and the Shi’ites and the fact that Iran capitalizes on the sectarian violence, does not want it solved because they hope to end up controlling the entire Levant — uh, sorry — region. Didn’t mean to say that.”

Even if Limbaugh is not correct with what he’s saying here, he’s still convinced millions of people that he is, or at least has supplied enough suggestion to arouse conspiracy theorists.

So what’s in a name? Literally more than you can Imagine. -MIKE EYE

 

 

 

*group : Never forget the power and terror of the “group mind,” a real phenomenon:

 

“Whenever such continuity of attention and feeling has been brought about, a group mind, or group Elemental, is formed which with the passage of time develops an individuality of its own, and ceases to be dependent for its existence upon the attention and emotion of the crowd that gave it birth. Once this occurs, the crowd no longer possesses the power to withdraw its attention or to disperse; the group Elemental has it in its grip. The attention of each individual is attracted and held in spite of himself; feelings are stirred within him even if he does not wish to feel them.

Each newcomer to the group enters into this potent atmosphere and either accepts it, and is absorbed into the group, or rejects it, and is himself rejected. No member of a group with a strong atmosphere, group mind, or Elemental (according to which term we prefer), is at liberty to think without bias upon the objects of group concentration and emotion. It is for this reason that reforms are so hard to bring about.”

—Dion Fortune, Applied Magic

MIKE EYE’S THOUGHTS ON CURRENT EVENTS ARTICLE, LET’S DISCUSS: LED ZEPPELIN’S COPYWRITE CASE OVER ALLEGED INFRINGEMENT

EVER SINCE THE FIRST TIME I LISTENED TO THE SONGS OF LED ZEPPELIN, I knew that there was something very serious, very special going on with this music….

Source: MIKE EYE’S THOUGHTS ON CURRENT EVENTS ARTICLE, LET’S DISCUSS: LED ZEPPELIN’S COPYWRITE CASE OVER ALLEGED INFRINGEMENT

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MIKE EYE’S THOUGHTS ON CURRENT EVENTS ARTICLE, LET’S DISCUSS: LED ZEPPELIN’S COPYWRITE CASE OVER ALLEGED INFRINGEMENT

MIKE EYE’S THOUGHTS ON CURRENT EVENTS ARTICLE, LET’S DISCUSS: 

LED ZEPPELIN’S COPYWRITE CASE OVER ALLEGED INFRINGEMENT

 

EVER SINCE THE FIRST TIME I LISTENED TO THE SONGS OF LED ZEPPELIN, I knew that there was something very serious, very special going on with this music. It did not take me long to realize the magic of Led Zeppelin, which to me was clearly identifiable in their song and album concepts, and I soon realized what was actually happening during the experience of listening to their music. I’ve always thought that most of, if not all of, Led Zeppelin’s back catalogue can be found in the Akashic Records. Now, that does not mean I think the guys from Led Zeppelin “stole” in any way chunks of epic songs from the Akashic Ether, but rather created them in our time, here, and naturally transmitted it to the Akashic Records, in a sense, to be readily accessible to any version of Led Zeppelin in other universes, in different times. I’m pretty sure the spirits of Page, Plant, Jones, and Bonham are “super souls,” so to speak, always sure to transmit to the infinite number of Led Zeppelin member-incarnates spawning in different places and different times for the countless versions of them everywhere. I suspect that the souls of the band members were deliberately seeded to exist together forever, ensuring that their human incarnate counter-parts would always be able to synchronically find each other and mince minds, always coming up with the same epic compositions that, I believe, may in fact be a tiny chunk of the Akashic Records indeed. But the “presence” of the actual band members alive on planet, tapping into their own sacred space, would widen the reception of their own main signal.

 
And that’s why I found it incredibly peculiar and familiar to hear about this lawsuit against the remaining members of Led Zeppelin for supposedly ripping off the groovy lick in their monumental Stairway to Heaven. It’s laughable, actually, I think to myself, I’m kind of surprised something like this hasn’t happened already (?!). It’s not that I think our modern-day Earthly version of the Led Zeppelin members are ripping anything off anybody, it’s that I believe this other band who supposedly came up with the Stairway lick first, “Spirit,” was actually so incredibly psychedelic and “tuned-in” so to speak when they played their music, that they were actually tapping into the Akashic Ether and somehow able to access the Spirit Bodies of the souls of Led Zeppelin. I’m sure plenty of bands in different timelines have been able to tap into it before; I tend to think the style of the song compositions and specific musical melodies (not to mention lyrical content) of the songs of Led Zeppelin, being transmitted from and to the Halls of the Akashic Ether, are extraordinarily sacred, and are an important element in the overall meaning of our existence. That’s why it was so hard for Page, Plant, Jones, and Bonham to resist filling the shoes of demigods when they started to realize that that was in fact what they actually were.

 
Now that being said, it comes as no surprise, and is rather truly interesting, as well as amusing, to learn that old Led Zeppelin bootlegs exist that contain content from indie label “Akashic Records.” And the other “tuned-in” band who was tapping into the Ether and heard from it the original recorded version of “Stairway to Heaven” was called “Spirit.” I mean, come on. With “Spirit’s” song with the similar lick from Stairway” being called “Taurus,” I Imagine the archives of the Led Zeppelin back catalogue chunk of the Akashic Ether was, at that time, situated in, or being transmitted from, the Taurus constellation. In the ‘70’s, the “stars” of Led Zeppelin toured around in their own private jet, a Boeing 720, that was called the “Starship.” Trippy, indeed. -MIKE EYE

 

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☆ 24. (MOTHER MAGDALENA GIVES BIRTH TO AN ABOMINATION)

 

 

(MOTHER MAGDALENA GIVES BIRTH TO AN ABOMINATION)

 

 

Story Snippet #4 / from MIKE EYE‘s / The Aqueous Transmission

– from EPISODE FIVE / Chapter 24 –

 

 

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[chapter TWENTY-FOUR]_____________________________________
LINA AND RITA, NOT TO MENTION PART OF MANDORLA, NOW FOUND themselves in complete Darkness.

The mystical pond could not be seen.

Nothing could be seen.

It was mostly stale-ass dead silence in the air, as the terribly bewildered Magdalena suddenly got choked up, became still, and came to a nervous hush, remaining trapped in place.

And Magdalena’s precious Mandorla did not cry.

She could not cry.

In an atmosphere of pitch-black, Magdalena, who surely did not scare easily, started to whimper and her long elegant legs again began flailing about in a fluster, her back still locked into place in the air three feet above the surface of the space of Fucked-Earth that was beside the pond now as gloomy as could be.

And then, abruptly abandoning the attempt to break herself free of whatever held her, still in Darkness to the degree of Death, the Mother quickly then focused all of her attention upon her long-awaited most precious just below her, who, she now noticed, was not making the slightest bit of noise whatsoever.

“My precious!!” she exclaimed whole-heartedly, but panic-stricken.

Magdalena reached down in between her dangling legs to feel a super soggy umbilical cord hanging out of her that was pulled slightly Southward by gravity, separating her labias ever more apart from one another as the serpent twine swung fro and to leisurely, a baby-sized weight at the end of it, swaying forth and back like a pendulum predicting a path most unpromising.

Lina gasped!

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And ever-so-slowly, the Full Moon gradually returned to light up the muggy sky and desolate landscape with a renewed soft, subtle glow as the Mother prodded her oozing vulva meticulously.

But the Moon did not shine nearly as bright as before.

It didn’t seem like it could.

Mother Magdalena shot her Head skyward to behold the new Full Moon revisited: it was burning Blood-Red with an hallucinogenic hazy melting fuzz blistering around its seamless circumference.

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When she brought her Head back down to look beneath her, the Mother saw her most precious Mandorla hanging from her umbilical cord that remained attached to the placenta that was still stuck inside her uterus. A steady stream of blood from the Mother’s vagina was splashing into the messy mix, dousing the dangling Mandorla at the end of the spirally gut-like tube of intimate linkage, putting on a most horrifying bloody show dimly lit by the new brooding dark scarlet Lunar phantasm of stellar Fucked-Earth symmetry.

The faint, fiendish luster of the new blood-red Full Moon, subtly reflecting off the mystical pond, was shining the eeriest tone of macabre repugnance upon this vile horror-show nightmare image of the gory Mandorla, who swung gently in stony silence from the potent, sick fruit that remained lodged inside the deplorable Mother Magdalena.

Below her, just beyond her gaze downward, Lina caught sight of Amrita lapping up the crimson life-juice that was dripping daintily off the dangling, slowly swinging baby, which presented quite the atrocity of a spectacle. She instantly felt ill.

Unexpectedly, the grip that held Magdalena then let go, and the Mother fell fast toward her lovable android friend beneath, just missing Mandorla, landing ungracefully upon a substantial gathering of thick, lukewarm, slowly-flowing blood.
Her immense pain and anxiety had turned to utter numbness, and the Mother now felt nothing.

She gazed curiously, lovingly at her newborn on the ground beside her who looked horrid in the soft scarlet haze of the new Harvest Moon. There seemed to be some kind of debris all over the newborn’s body as well as on her face.

The deathly black baby was on her side, motionless, silent, and bathed in blood.

Magdalena’s gaze followed the length of Mandorla’s umbilical cord which extended out from the baby’s bellybutton and over the soiled ground, leading into her throbbing vagina.

And the Mother was too horrified, too struck still to notice how immensely repulsed she actually was at how insanely revolting Mandorla was in her appearance.

Lina lay unfettered in her own foul mess for a quiet, confused moment.

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Then, she made her way closer to her silent newborn. That’s when she froze in astonishment, her mouth dropping wide open in total shock.

The baby was grizzly, having a thick coat of brown hair that was disheveled with damp, blood-caked licks of it swirled into its splotchy skin. It’s face was regrettably deformed and as ugly as could be, with jagged bumps of inhuman growths poking out of unassuming places.

And her precious remained silent. So Deathly Silent.

Yet the baby’s promising Heart still pumped. Her chest still drew in breaths of air, albeit arrhythmic breaths at that, and of air that was most spoiled.

Lina became angry now, and her intense physical pain returned to her with nausea, her Eyes widening with disgust as she glared at Mandorla in unnerved Horror.

The Mother then initiated a most highly emotional display of prolonged piercing screeches sprinkled with sodden snivels and moans that nearly blew her lungs out and surely reached the heavens as well as the core of the planet. Such a disturbing display this was to her — and One that the lovable Amrita simply would not discern; there is a good chance, in fact, that the robot may’ve shut down entirely at this very moment had it been engineered to execute a reaction to a human behavior so complex.

A brusque breeze then abruptly struck the dark sky with sharp gusts of post-apocalyptic squalls that were sprinkled with indiscernible prickly pieces of ashen inexplicables.

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After the initial panic, Lina then unsuspectingly swayed herself into supposedly seeking out the sullen support of Solaria, never coming to see that it was in fact the supremacy of the spirited Lachrylon that she was secretly summoning subconsciously at this time.

During the following drawn-out instance, Magdalena found herself making raw, gorge-governed Love with short, nervy breaths to the disdainful air whirling around her distraught body, Love that was most candid, excruciatingly tender, intensely emotive. Lost deeply within her most painful sentiments exemplified, she felt as if she had just dropped a hundred pounds, becoming instantly anorexic as she desperately fucked the sky, arms spread out so wide, her precious deep-space, soul-sucked tears blinding all vision with a drowned-out nightmare pulsing in her Mind’s Eye.

Magdalena then suddenly remembered that the placenta was still stuck inside her.

The Mother abruptly picked up her newborn and brought the baby’s naval to her mouth, promptly tearing into the umbilical cord viciously with her teeth as she started chomping away at it. Shuddering hard, a disturbed Lina was now seeking to separate herself fast from the uncanny surprise that was her bundle of joy.
Upon separation of the cord from the Mother, Mandorla slowly opened her Eyes, and, upon doing so, gradually brought daylight to Fucked-Earth as if she was somehow able to summon the Sun with her newfound Liberation.

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Rita crept forward, its shiny face covered in blood.

“My, oh my!” said the bot.

Lina was already looking skyward in stunned bemusement.

“Wow,” she remarked, “I can’t believe it…”

As the scenery slowly became brighter and brighter, the Mother felt better and better. The bold glimmering of her torso as well as from twenty-four inches Above her Head had dissipated, but her magical golden dress of Sun-woven photon fibers reappeared upon her body, illuminating itself more and more as it soon got to be brighter than ever before. -MIKE EYE

Visionary Fiction Database – Visionary Fiction Alliance

CHECK OUT THE ENTHRALLING PAGES OF OTHER VISIONARY BLOGGERS.

http://visionaryfictionalliance.com/visionary-fiction-authors/

Solstice, Sabbats and England Event — 13:20 FREQUENCY SHIFT

Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts. … There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature — the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after winter. —Rachel Carson, Silent Spring Solstice and Equinox are points for heightened […]

via Solstice, Sabbats and England Event — 13:20 FREQUENCY SHIFT

#3. It’s finally time for the Last Godhed’s Conscious Mind to Astral Projekt his Subtle Sirian Soul Synced to his Human Body Out to the Sacred Seduction with Safety and Seclusion from within his Secret Southpole Homeland

A few moments following this exhibition, the Mother and the twelve of her closest, having instinctively heeded the suggestions made by the Shade of Fletcher Munsin, had quickly combined to form a massless shimmering, flying Metatron’s Cube — an alternate guise of her silvery space pod – and without any further delay, had shot toward Andromeda to then have, along with her High Sisters, the most Earth-shattering Revelation.

From there forward, the mindful mystic would continue to remain intimately bonded most considerately with his Shadow as the High Sister conjunction fastly approached the Sacrificial Lamb of Man following their Heady Revelation, proceeding to then abduct him, taking him to an undisclosed, most secluded, and otherwise inaccessible cryptic crypt to begin tempting the ill-fated man.

It would be here within the depths of these shady caverns, at a location Superunknown, that the Mother would begin proudly eliciting her ‘Snake Charmer for Godheds’ for to put Fletcher Munsin in the mood.

Source: from EPISODE NINE/chapter 36 of MIKE EYE’s the aqueous transmission

☆ 36. It’s Finally Time For The Last Godhed’s Conscious Mind To Astral Projekt His Subtle Sirian Soul Synced To His Human Body Out To The Sacred Seduction With Safety And Seclusion From Within His Secret Southpole Homeland

 

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____E  P  I  S  O  D  E    N  I  N  E :____
T   h   e     L   a   s   t     G   o   d   h   e   d

☆   Story snippet #3   ☆

of MIKE EYE‘s The Aqueous Transmission

“…Let us be ashamed and put on the perfect Man, and separate as He commanded us…”

—from Chapter 9, The Gospel According to Mary Magdalene

 

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[c  h  a  p  t  e  r    T  H  I  R  T  Y – S  I  X]__________________
REMAINING LOCKED ONTO THE VIBRANT, HIGHLY RESONATING personal Mandala he had intrinsically constructed to breathe into with his Mind’s Eye, the safely secluded Al Rodnam was now fully engaged in the essential, most mindful process of vigilantly holding with all his strength the form of his Shadow, Fletcher Munsin, as it approached the Andromeda Biodome with the Head Hankerhawks of Bry Dellows for the second time in the same day.

The first time that the High, illuminated formation of elite sisters had approached the Biodome of Andromeda was several hours earlier, and it had held the purpose of providing to the High Sisters a most relevant revelation that would just as fastly bring them back to Fucked-Earth and straight to the site of their key target — the vital familiar and attractive subject who’s present location had become instantaneously delivered to their Oversoul Consciousness Identity upon the sisters’ collective exposure to that very Revelation at the Andromeda Biodome just prior. They, as the frozen liquid-light frequencies of the Metatronic Cube Collective, would now be lulled to the precise patch of geomantic terrain via their joint psychic and cellular activation, whereupon glimmered obscurely the holographic projection of the oh-so-long sought-after Fletcher Munsin, wrongfully assumed by the High Hawk Sisters to be the very last Godhed remaining across all the Fucked Land.

From the instance that prompted that initial flight to the Andromeda Biodome, the last great guru Godhed Al Rodnam had been metaphysically retaining his Shadow’s physical and abstract form to enigmatically appear at the edge of Bry Dellows, patiently waiting for the illuminating conjunction of High Hawks to have their revelation and return to their homeland village. This very holding of the exquisitely enticing Fletcher Munsin’s revealing form was the most critical conjunction that all the sisters of Bry Dellows had been Unconsciously awaiting throughout their lifetimes. The High Hawks were so compulsively overcome by having been abruptly internally guided toward the focal shimmering projection straight subsequent to their Andromeda Biodome Truth Revelation that they noticed not now how curious it may or may not’ve been that the subject of their seeking was now suddenly present so very close to their Home, and not somewhere else. Somewhere hidden.

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The mighty mystic Al Rodnam, as wise and powerful as he so was, had been unable to become aware all his own of precisely when he was to initiate his commanding facilitation of Fletcher Munsin, and so was ultimately obliged to hold off doing so until an official sanction from noble Nammu of Europa, the little ultra-perceptive dolphin hailing from the orbit of the mighty Jupiter. Little Nammu would remain still for a time, patiently poised at the bottom of the tranquil pond at the South Pole Homeland which was unaffected by a Time Continuum, the One beside where the mindful mystic was unwearyingly entreating upon the surfacing of the little European to finally deliver to him the Earth-shattering message.

The message that it was time.

And that that time had finally now come.

Just prior to the commencement of his holding the form of his Shadow, noble Nammu had abruptly swam up to the pond’s surface. Attributable to his Cetacean origin, Al Rodnam was able to interpret the Sonar broadcasts transmitted to him from loyal little Nammu. The little European indeed held encoded within her DNA and cellular memory the Divine Right Time that had Now Come, and it aligned with the Live Divine Blueprint of Humanity that incorporated within it identical multidimensional Consciousness structures, fluxing and interacting amongst themselves and itself with all sorts of many varying energies while reaching outward all the while. The time had now Come for the mighty power of this actuality to actually straight-away come into accordance with the precise moment upon which was the little curious interstellar dolphin’s destined duty, and that, she Knew well, was to deliver the message to Al Rodnam, the transmission of which was to be the actual action that would so ultimately allow the Mother and her twelve closest to initially head to Andromeda for the first time that day.

During that exact instance, just as Al Rodnam was reacting to the Word of little Nammu by starting to summon forth his Shadow, the incessant Blood-red Full Moon Curse of Mandorla upon Fucked-Earth abruptly disappeared, instantaneously shutting out most of the light shining over the doomed planet.

The mindless, incessant clatter of the sickeningly overpopulated Loombugs was abruptly taken up several notches, their frantic frolicking over the planet’s surface increasing immensely. Just as suddenly, Mandorla’s Blood-red Full-Moon Phantom-lock was replaced by a waxing white sliver that held a different, far less obtrusive sway over the expiring planet.

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A few moments following this exhibition, the Mother and the twelve of her closest, having instinctively heeded the suggestions made by the Shade of Fletcher Munsin, had quickly combined to form a massless shimmering, flying Metatron’s Cube — an alternate guise of her silvery space pod – and without any further delay, had shot toward Andromeda to then have, along with her High Sisters, the most Earth-shattering Revelation.

From there forward, the mindful mystic would continue to remain intimately bonded most considerately with his Shadow as the High Sister conjunction fastly approached the Sacrificial Lamb of Man following their Heady Revelation, proceeding to then abduct him, taking him to an undisclosed, most secluded, and otherwise inaccessible cryptic crypt to begin tempting the ill-fated man.

It would be here within the depths of these shady caverns, at a location Superunknown, that the Mother would begin proudly eliciting her ‘Snake Charmer for Godheds’ for to put Fletcher Munsin in the mood.

After the High Hawks had all tantalized Fletcher Munsin for a substantial amount of time within the mysterious, clammy caves, they advanced in their Holy Commission, transporting the hapless Lamb of Man to the Andromeda Biodome to at last utilize the colossal, sacred structure for its predestined proper purpose — for the long-awaited, most heavily symbolic Sacred Seduction and Sperm Extraction of the presumed last Godhed on Fucked-Earth which, as it comprised the combination of both the essences of Al Rodnam and his Shadow, Fletcher Munsin, would ultimately help conjure forth the first, most significant Space-Grain.

And the rest would be history. Repeating history.

Repeating history.

Upon arrival at the outerspace biodome, the Mother, her twelve closest, and the hapless Fletcher Munsin all promptly exited the silvery space pod into the breathable atmosphere of the deep-space structure most massive, the sly Hawks so coming to launch their be-charmed Sacred Seduction of Fletcher Munsin, upon whom they beset as their Host, a tingling sensation starting to crawl up the back of the lowly man’s neck, his throat completely dry, the sisters creeping closer like daddy longlegs. Meanwhile, Al Rodnam — the bona fide last-remaining Godhed with a ‘boner-to-hide’ — would attempt at all costs to sustain the vigilant High Communion he Now Kept with his Shadow’s Form throughout the duration of his own celestial milking, continuing to conduct all throughout the span of the spading a steady, mindful contemplative Intention while remaining securely concealed in the Immortal South Pole Homeland from whence the very Quintessence of Man sat abidingly in certain safety and seclusion.

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Throughout the entirety of the intense, brutal, kinky treatments of Fletcher Munsin during the forthrightly outlandish Sacred Seduction and Sperm Extraction orchestrated by Mother Magdalena, Al Rodnam experienced — and aided his Shadow in enduring — every life-long-lasting instance of the critical Sick Act that seemed to never end. And although Al Rodnam knew roughly what to expect of all this highly hormonal hyperactivity, the sheer atrocity of the caliber of brutality elicited by the Sacred Seduction at the Andromeda Biodome made even the great guru himself shiver slightly at times.

Immersing himself with Fletcher Munsin Intimately, and with every fragment of everything that was occurring at the Biodome of Andromeda, the great, most heedful, mindful mystic continued to maintain his High Concentration on it all, keeping his sharply developed Wise Mind focused fully and simultaneously upon three things: the experience, as his Shadow, Fletcher Munsin, of the Act being committed to him by Mother Magdalena; that was one. The wellbeing of his Shadow, Fletcher Munsin; that was two. And the third thing was to maintain the upkeep of a thoroughly Lucid Vision of the High-density intricacies of the complex sound and light patterns of the particular Mandala he had brought forth as Light Symbol Codes to aid his breaths to make the other two connections possible.

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Although challenging even for the Great Godhed, his part in all of this had been transpiring relatively well, the High thoughts of the old man helping to keep Fletcher Munsin willing to believe in himself and able to endure the most Passionate, most necessary sanctified exploit that would be required of the guru’s destined sacrificial counterpart.

And then, becoming lost momentarily in the whole general feel of High Suffering brought on by this High Sacrament, Al Rodnam, Seeing steadfastly through his Shadow’s Eyes, suddenly received an incredibly Lucid, particularly bright Vision of Fletcher Munsin’s face reflected back at him most ghastly and gruesome, flashing predominantly inside his Mind’s Eye with dire, greatly annunciated articulations. And slowly the pain started to be felt by the Godhed as well, although to a much lesser degree. Al Rodnam flinched only slightly then. What was wrong? he thought.

The old man slowly came to realize that the Mother had perfectly pierced her Holy Scepter straight through his Shadow’s skull and directly into his Third Eye.

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After dispelling the Wicked Intent meant for his Shadow to crumble over, Al Rodnam quickly channeled those Evil images he then saw through his Shadow’s Three Eyes into milder emotions he felt Fletcher Munsin could tolerate. The Last Godhed smiled then, promptly astral-projecting a Vision of his own Face with that smile into Fletcher Munsin’s Third Eye to reassure him.

This would help Fletcher Munsin to just barely endure the worst of what was still to come from the Mother’s most persuasive mistreatment.

Just barely.

Al Rodnam was already mulling over the tricky task he had planned immediately following the Mother’s sadistic Sacred Seduction. He knew that the time was fast approaching for him to finally depart from his Sacred South Pole Homeland of Immortal Earth and advance through the stargate at the bottom of his peaceful little lake, down within the cool waters of which noble Nammu had been staying. This would teleport the mystic to the lush, ever-thriving domain of Amrita’s Immortal Inner Earth Underworld, depositing him at the very bottom of the mystical lake that Magdalena and her High sisters would visit exactly every twenty-eight days to rejuvenate their essences. From there, Al Rodnam planned to then travel a short ways to the portal entry that would transport him back to the edge of the dusky Bry Dellows upon present-time spoiling Fucked-Earth.

And finally, the last Godhed knew that he must then make it, however he could, through the abandoned sludge-scattered, trash-ridden radioactive ruins of a Fucked-Earth on the brink, high-tailing it as fast as he could all the way to the mystical pond of which the original Aqueous Transmission had taken place more than a few decades prior, in due course to be taking place again.

R i g h t   t h e r  e ,   s t r a i g h t   I n t o   t h e   m y s t e r i o u s   d e p t h s   o f   t h e   m y s t i c a l   p o n d ,   w a s   t h e   a c t u a l   L a s t   G o d h e d ’ s   F i n a l   D e s t i n a t i o n .  -MIKE EYE ☆ ☆

#2. Incendiary Ajna of a One Magdalena to Ignite High Psychic Union with Solaria

> > from the pages of The Aqueous Transmission….

…Fixed in an endless reverie‭, ‬a blank expression on her face‭, ‬Magdalena’s Ajna chakra had become fully stimulated‭, ‬and blood now gushed outward from the gash in her forehead‭, ‬bursting through the bandaging‭, ‬squirting all over the inside of her helmet’s transparent dome‭, ‬completely obstructing her view with a crimson flush‭. ‬Proving that she could not be disconnected in any way from the almighty nexus now communicating with her‭, ‬the triple optics of the Mother then pierced through the ruby veil of her helmet’s dome with activated brainwaves of eternal intent‭, physically ‬parting the obstructing splattered blood outward from three small‭, ‬perfectly rounded areas of the blood-soaked dome around her Head‭, ‬correlating to her three beams of vision…‭‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

https://mike33eye.wordpress.com/writing-sample-2/

Source: Incendiary Ajna of a One Magdalena to Ignite High Psychic Union with Solaria

The Aqueous Transmission, a novel by mike eye

“Assuming the contour of a fully illuminated Metatron’s Cube, the glowing orb of light comprising the thirteen Wicked women set celestial sail, gathering together the willpower to try traveling along the mangled psychelectromagnetic waves of a dying Earth. But with this New Light, this Higher Consciousness activation triggered by the deliverance of noble Nammu of Europa, the glowing orb-cube was able to traverse swiftly and easily over the spread of geological expanse like never before as it envisioned its own presence beyond the conditioned singular stance of the more simplified separate Sister, and so coming to catch a Hallowed Vision of the near future…”

Source: The Aqueous Transmission, a novel by mike eye

“Visionary Fiction” is Modern-day Psychedelic, Esoteric Folklore

MORE AND MORE READERS OF EXCITING STORIES EVERYWHERE ARE LEARNING ABOUT VISIONARY FICTION. Because of our current day and age, a whole boat-load of wondrously adventurous individuals who grew up reading deep, thought-provoking sci-fi and fantasy novels that seemed to break genre barriers via their tone and lasting implications now officially have a whole new genre to flock to. Officially recognized under the BISAC (Book Industry Standards and Communications) subject heading FIC039000 FICTION / Visionary & Metaphysical, this “new” (but very old) genre is now a market. Who would’ve thunk?

Source: “Visionary Fiction” is Modern-day Psychedelic, Esoteric Folklore

“Visionary Fiction” is Modern-day Psychedelic, Esoteric Folklore

MORE AND MORE READERS OF EXCITING STORIES EVERYWHERE ARE LEARNING ABOUT VISIONARY FICTION. Because of our current day and age, a whole boat-load of wondrously adventurous individuals who grew up reading deep, thought-provoking sci-fi and fantasy novels that seemed to break genre barriers via their tone and lasting implications now officially have a whole new genre to flock to. Officially recognized under the BISAC (Book Industry Standards and Communications) subject heading FIC039000 FICTION / Visionary & Metaphysical, this “new” (but very old) genre is now a market. Who would’ve thunk?

magic_book_by_mar_ka

Although Visionary Fiction is technically a subgenre of Speculative Fiction, which is a subgenre of Genre Fiction, the scope of what the visionary stories entail cannot be categorized. And even though Visionary Fiction is now its very own Speculative subgenre, that does not necessarily mean that it cannot also be Horror and Fantasy and Sci-Fi, which have all been designated subgenres of Speculative Fiction all their own. For that matter, I have also always thought that any subgenre of “Genre Fiction” can also be “Literary.” And although the industry doesn’t yet recognize this, it is indeed still reassuring that the confines of the labels of Literature are expanding due to the evolving consciousness of the modern-day individual reader/writer. This itself is a result of the hardening Noosphere. (See The Law of Time’s explanation of the Noosphere.)

Analyzing Visionary Fiction (VF) any further starts to irritate the third eye’s subjective cornea. VF, although extremely heady, is not psychological fiction because of the established inexact science of psychology of which any type of psychological or mainstream fiction piece is inherently based. Also, any Sci-Fi or Fantasy piece is not usually regarded as VF unless it has additional underlying multidimensional significance. And any spiritual or religious fiction is not technically considered Visionary because it is based on an already established set of laws. The point of VF is to stir emotions in the heart of the reader. As the Visionary Fiction Alliance (VFA) states, “If the focus [of a VF story] is active with the spiritual power generated and motivated from within the individual and flowing outward to positively affect the environment, it is visionary fiction.” (See the VFA website.) Even “metaphysical fiction,” although not officially, remains separate from VF in that the metaphysical book is usually based on the story whereas, as according to artist Talia Newland, “in visionary fiction the expression of the philosophy is more important than the story.”

Literature is evolving alongside our personal group consciousness. This fact not only gives us great hope for the future (with the emergence of my as-yet-to-be-published The Aqueous Transmission), but as well allows us the joy of understanding the vast significance of certain tales of yore, which until now has remained mostly cryptic. In addition, because of our ability to interpret them differently, a current re-read of some of our favorite epic mythic tales will now surely be received under a new light. You’re likely to find that, yes, the works of a few certain legendary authors did indeed break the boundaries of genre before the rest of us did.

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