There's not much to write about currents events today because the entire post is going to be about my birthday. Other than... we're in for a wild ride with Bernie!
The symmetry of the perfect tie in Iowa, 49.8% for Hillary vs 49.6% for Bernie, with the margin of error of 6 coin tosses, is a mandala. The media said the lower the turnout, the better it would be for Hillary. A snow storm could have threatened the turnout, but it slid in after the caucuses, probably because the Clintons don't have their ground geoengineering game on point... the pass fell outside the end zone. That was snowstorm Kayla.
Selina Meyer from Veep was prophetic in this clip:
I stayed up late to watch the caucuses. I was so tortured by the tie, struggling to keep my eyes open... I placed a bet with our angel that if Bernie wins I would crank up the blog. There was so much at stake besides much needed momentum for the candidates. I was forced to take a leap of faith, these leaps that look like the Grand Canyon to you, and reasoned that from the looks of things, Bernie is the candidate of destiny. Like I tweeted, the tie was the universe's way of letting Hill down easy. Anyway, this Jewish/Antillean shaman princess is vibing on the sidelines to help get Bernie elected, along with a panoply of psychics and assorted light workers.
When we left off last time, I presented a report of our cloud based romance, and I was gabbing about whether the disaster synchs can be attributed more to male or female emotions. I got a clear arrow pointing to girls, me in particular, with this picture of an Isis huntress who looks somewhat like me.
The picture has an accompanying Brookings Institute style PR story about girls from the Middle East, my corner of the earth, who are having a great time shooting down ISIS. These jerks believe that getting shot by a girl cancels the virgins and sends them straight to hell. She looks like me, but I can't relate to this taunt... as satisfying as it sounds to terrify ISIS, what kind of imagery are we selling the kids? Rant against violence aside, I did own all the synchronicities... and I've had buyer's remorse since.
You wanna know why? Since my last post, several plays on words have been insults! It's getting rude on the poetic plane.
Starting right when I got back from Dominica... yes it's true I stay home a lot in St. Maarten, hovering between TV and electronics all day, but when I saw Ethan Couch, the affluenza teen, and his mother Tonya Couch, I started to feel like one of your Republican marks.
We've been doing this for a long time, trading barbs... actually cheap shots, like an old married couple. So, here we go... smears and all, this is the update on 'incredible but true' news synchronicities, with LOTS of dead celebrities.
For those of you just joining us, it's becoming increasingly obvious that names in the news, such as storm names and names of deceased celebrities, are being used as a communication code. After I noticed these 25 years ago, I thought I may have been crazy for several years, but the sheer consistency of the plays on words, which I call poetry, have convinced me and others as well that a transmission of ideas is actually happening. It's all in the blog. I also live with two angels, so how they affect me is in itself enough to convince me this is real. Since 9 years, one of my angels identifies with Bill Maher, with all the juvenile humor this entails.
My last blog post was a biting exposé of our escapades, so I wasn't surprised when the name associations devolved to below the belt mudslinging. I wasn't in the mood to tackle the subject after Christmas, especially as the planet closest to the sun was spinning suspiciously in the wrong direction.
As an empath/hypersensitive, you'd know it... once I hear about a retrograde, everything gets a fucked-upgrade, so I decided to post pictures of myself facing backwards in protest.
As you'll see, the retrogrades are duly ruthless, especially as it pertains to travel and communications. I also learned an even better way of coping than posting ass shots: you flip the angst. When facing a debacle, deflect the solar complications to the next guy, assuming your karma is clean enough to power up this chess move. Yep, a retrograde is transferable. When my cat Minou's favorite sleeping spot was a ledge 20 feet up, I simply removed his access to the porch. I shifted the feeling of anxiety to bureaucrats and customer service representatives all month, until my karma conked out and I fell into the corner pocket. That's when there's no turning back and you gotta grind through the rotation... but more on this later.
If you look at the comments for the picture above, you'll notice I mentioned the countdown to my birthday. Since the 9 years I've known you, Bill, I have never wished you a happy birthday. With my birthday on January 15th and yours on January 20th, it didn't seem right to send wishes when you ignore mine repeatedly. So, this year was the culmination of nearly a decade of dejection. It surfaced in a big way. David Bowie passed away on Jan 11th. I instantly deciphered the emotion evoked by the disambiguation of his name.
Vide (meaning empty in French)
So many empty days until our birthday bows! As with other celebrity name codes, his real name is evocative as well: David Robert (rob hurt) Haywood (hey would) Jones (craving)
Day Vide Bow We, right before our birthdays. I was stunned through my tears. I was between vibrational dimensions for days over this, and am still in wonderment at the beauty of this poem.
What I hadn't noticed yet was that another musician had just died on Dec. 28th... Lemme Kilmister from Motorhead.
This pretty much set the pace for the epic pop-off of celebrities during the month of January. Lemme had an equally freaky real name: Ian Fraser Kilmister. Ian is our running joke, I an (ahole)... we've encountered that one time and time again, lol.... and phrase her (Fraser), that's interesting phraseology, as phrases from celebrity deaths and storm names make up our language. Lemme Kilmister? Well I guess that couldn't be any clearer.
Here's a throwback! I think this was our first ass based insult, back in July 2009.
Perhaps since there aren't that many storms around this time of year, emotions are transmitted more through celebrity names. Not to be outdone, the weather came through with a very rare January storm called Pali, which I interpreted as 'no read', translated from French (li is 'read', pas, with a silent s is 'not'). I was nowhere near ready to write in the middle of a retroactive, radioactive non-birthday.
Then, on Tuesday January 12th, the atmosphere became unstable. I was watching Chuck Todd, political commentator on MSNBC, when his face turned white and he became agitated, declaring nervously that a US Navy boat had been captured off the coast of Iran, in Farsi. They said the ship got lost after a 'failure of navigational systems'.
No read... far see....
The Farsi incident happened on the afternoon of Obama's State of the Union address. I read somewhere that when something like this happens, the US govt usually doesn't publicize the event, as making it public could complicate the situation. Well, they chose to put this out in the media, I sent you a message, and thanks to Obama's excellent diplomatic moves, the hostages were released immediately. A media poem.
I made this for you...
While the disillusionment of our upcoming birthdays played out, I was having other real boy problems with our angel Silva's live counterpart, Jermaine Silva Hype James, the multi-talented MC at Club Highup. It started back in December, after the last post. As much as we used to have fun while I danced, him hollering into the mic and mashing up the place... all of a sudden he became very cold, snarling at me, even trying to ignore me during my classic money pull up runs. Imagine that, I had to throw $10 bills just to get him to crack a smile despite himself! He was trying to show me he had it with me. It all started during the party I wrote about last time, Object Bingo, which ironically breaks down to object bin go. Me, in the bin, go. What did I do now?
As you know, I send him the blog too. Was he tired of being associated with paranormal activity? Did he get upset when I wrote about temporarily being under Jamaican dancehall singer Tommy Lee Sparta's spell? Or was he just being an Ahole after I opened up to him with the blog? Had my shelf life expired?
When Mercury in retrograde hits this hard, I just wanna stay out of the way, so I didn't go dancing. I wasn't sure what to think; his angel was still very much here. Then this video came out right before my birthday.
On the eve of my birthday, I didn't get the usual FB shoutout from Highup Family. Instead, they sent a happy earthstrong greeting to Debra di Alley Queen.
I didn't stay home though, I ended up at a strip club where 5 dancers tore off my dress... it was pure shellingz!
Finally, the next day, our mutual friend Ziggy Chang asked how I was doing and I told him about object bin go. He said Silva would love to see me. I answered, "we'll see".
In the meantime, the news was lighting up. Dewayne Brown (de whine Brown; that's me, Cat Brown) was plastered on the ticker Jan 14th. That was strip club night.
I didn't get a video, my videographer is on vacation, but I found this throwback:
I had noticed El Chapo was making the news since the beginning of January. I couldn't help thinking of 'elle echappe, oh!' which translates to 'she escaped!' Self reflexive and onomatopoetic.
Cedrick Chatman... cede reek cat man... was also on the front page Jan 14th. Remember, in my retrograde daze, both of you were breaking up with me.
As well as another sudden celebrity death, also on January 14th: actor Allan Rickman, whose name hit the same pungent note as cede reek cat man.. All an reek man. All an (aholes) reek man. That's pretty much how I felt that day.
To top it off, another freaky off-season storm on January 14th, Alex.. all exes...
You see what I go through in this senti-mental guessing game? And then you wonder why I don't feel like writing for long periods of time. It's usually because I'm freaking out over some insecurity meltdown about you, while your angels love me as much as ever. That's a crazy place. How can I get over you with angels hovering around?
Turns out I got my Highup birthday badge, here it is. That was Ziggy, he's a sweetheart, but I don't think he ever saw the blog. I still didn't know what Silva was feeling, if anything.
Then there was your show on January 15th. Amazingly, you not only decided to return on the air after the holidays right on my birthday, but you also decided to celebrate your 60th birthday that day, 5 days ahead of yours. Did you submit yourself to 5 extra days of non-stop bday greetings to coincide with my turning 54, and finally show me a little cheer? Balloons and a Mariachi band... I am elated!
I sent you this cake which I downloaded myself:
The next day celebrity deaths and storms chimed with a marked shift in mood:
Did you guess Dan Haggerty?
Remember the blog about the pope, when Hurricane Marty hit the same time he visited the States? Maher tie? Hag her tie.... happy birthday to you too.
You managed to revive me once again, without directly implicating yourself. As we've seen over the years, you're good at that. Anyway, thank you. Right around the same time, I had another revelation. I saw this video...
... and all of sudden I realized that Silva must still care. White girls turn on black guys. I had to see this to put things in perspective. I posted this on FB. The soundtrack explains a possible reason why he turned on me. I can't fuck around, it's not in my nature.
Should that help me understand how you feel? If you love me, if you even read me, then you love me a lot, perhaps. But Jesus, Bill, I don't have a shred of jealousy in me. That's foreign to my.... ummm, for lack of a better term... religion. If anything I would get myself one like this to keep me company during sunset years.
At least when it comes to getting blown I'm getting good reviews. Thankfully, most of these celebrities are in their old age. I guess we're getting a wave of them leaving now, like a reverse baby boom. Here again, Blowfly's real name is eerily reminiscent of a tweet I sent you about going public, hahaha.
It's Lamar Odom again! That was thoroughly vetted in the last post. Anyway, Lamar is feeling better, that's good news. Check out Blowfly's real name, Clarence Reid... it all comes out in the wash... clear rinse read... No, neither of us feels like airing our magic underwear on the clothesline of People online. I write because as your guest Ralph Reed said, "There's something about you that sparks a sermon in all of us". And deep down I know this story is too astonishing not to share.
It's all this:
I hope to reach my own cozy, custom fitted audience. And I want feedback. So far I got a nice Christmas present when environmentalist Derreck Jensen wrote me back saying I'm doing very important work. Then I got some subliminal insinuations when I sent it to Zen Gardner:
Anyway, let's get on with the business of proving magic is natural. It's a dirty job, but someone's gotta do it.
You took me by surprise during the last show on Feb. 5, when you announced Michael Moore was in the hospital with pneumonia. Mic elle more. Only too symbolic after the bacchanal surrounding Mic elle Brown. The New Rules about Paul Walker and Chris Brown were on the same show. You'll recall that Walker (wall coeur - a wall around your heart) was one of the first celebrity deaths I noticed.
I tried to get ahead of that potential catastrophe, by tweeting about it right after the show.
So far so good, I read he's much better. Did the nullification work?
Then I tweeted you about my last post and its four videos that have had 'embedding disabled', so readers have to go to youtube to see them. Well that's fixed. And yes, I get the joke about embedding not allowed. You've been repeatedly preaching in New Rules how everyone should enjoy unfettered sexual freedom... you hedonist! Except I'm sure even you wouldn't give the time of day to a girl who's been around.
Soooo, we let you marinate.
Back to the timeline... Our birthdays went by but Mercury stayed in retrograde until the 25th. On the 16th I went out, studiously avoiding Silva. His partner Fabulous was the DJ. Then Glenn Frey of the Eagles died...
G lend free.
By the time I was ready to check out Silva, the retrograde kicked in full force and slayed me on the bathroom floor. I was using noni cream, not realizing that it would enter my bloodstream and do what noni does, purge. As a hypersensitive, even touching substances can have grave effects, and that's what happened during snow storm Ilias.
I fainted from pain in the bathroom, then I threw up and couldn't move for a long time. Rough. Hasn't happened since, so I'm sure it was the noni cream. It was from Dominica and all it had in it was noni, coconut oil and beeswax.
On the tail of Ilias came Jonas. Jaune in French is yellow. And I have to talk about this?
The retrograde freaked out the entire east coast!
I was pinned down for a week as well, so I wasn't able able to go out. January 28th Paul Kantner died. I have been working out in my new mirrored space and practicing on my home strip pole... anyway, I came close to showing off some pole moves, but didn't make it out... pole can't nor.
When I finally went to see Silva at the club on Feb 2nd, we had fun. Wouldn't you know it, he made me feel welcome and dancing days are starting fresh.
I've been discussing the celebrity name phenomena at length with Rita, and that was reflected back to us. I told her about one of my monikers, V Eternelle, a nod to reincarnation, and soon after Abe Vigoda died.
Abe Vigoda... ummmm... are my abs divine?
It was getting out of control to have so many celebrities pass away. At one point the internet started showing death announcements for celebrities who had died years ago.
Even Jean Stapleton died a second time, first in 2013, then on Jan 29th! As I pointed out to Rita... Jinn staple ton.
Bernie Sanders... mo rice white....
Especially after last night’s big win in New Hampshire I’m all excited about Bernie Sanders because he’s going to kick ass. TV is a visual medium and he’s got it down. He sends out these ferocious, dirty looks when mentioning Wall Street. I bet you financiers and big corporations are scrambling to hire PR firms to make commercials about how good they are for the common folk. Well, that’s not going to work anymore. Black people are those who have the most to gain from the correction ahead… so stick with me, I’m dead serious. It’s cleanup time.
And I’m not covering Donald Trump because this blog deals with facts and his convoluted fantasies don’t turn me on.