Monday, 24 April 2017

BreXit : Fraternal Iceland

King Arthur II & Prince Madoc's voyage to America in AD 562

Zac Tudor

'G'
Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be





Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous,
By drunken prophecies, libels and dreams,
To set my brother Clarence and the king
In deadly hate the one against the other:
And if King Edward be as true and just
As I am subtle, false and treacherous,
This day should Clarence closely be mew'd up,
About a prophecy, which says that 'G'
Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be.

 


As I remember, Henry the Sixth
Did prophesy that Richmond should be King,
When Richmond was a little peevish boy.
A King, perhaps, perhaps,--

How chance the prophet could not at that time
Have told me, I being by, that I should kill him.?



Richmond! When last I was at Exeter,
The mayor in courtesy show'd me the castle,
And call'd it Rougemont: at which name I started,
Because a bard of Ireland told me once
I should not live long after I saw Richmond.




The German Mind and The Axioms of Gothic Thought

A letter of 5 November 1777 to Mozart’s cousin Maria Anna Thekla Mozart is an example of Mozart’s use of scatology. The German original is in rhymed verse "

"Well, I wish you good night
But first shit in your bed and make it burst.
Sleep soundly, my love
Into your mouth your arse you’ll shove."


Mozart’s canon “Leck mich im Arsch” K. 231 (K6 382c) includes the lyrics:

"Leck mich im A[rsch] g’schwindi, g’schwindi!"

This would be translated into English as 

“lick me in the arse/ass, quickly, quickly!”.

“Leck mich im Arsch” is a standard vulgarism in German. The closest English counterpart is 

“Kiss my arse/ass”.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mozart_and_scatology



Du musst amboss oder Hammer sein.
You Must Be Anvil or Hammer.
- Goethe


In modern German, "Lieber Hammer als Amboss" (Better to be the hammer than the anvil) is a fairly common proverb.



"In real life it is always the anvil that breaks the hammer, never the other way about."
-George Orwell 
"Politics and the English Language"


Sunday, 23 April 2017

Ape and Tiger in US Demand Fight, Says Jack London



Ape and Tiger in US Demand Fight, Says Jack London
New York Herald/June 29, 1910

Thrill of Combat a Passion of Race That Grew as Our Language Grew

Must Accept it as Reality of Nature

Sport of Prize Fighting a Fair One and Marks Development of Humanity

Eventually Will Cease

Mr. London Says Personally He Wants to See Battle So Bad it Hurts

Here is the problem. At 1:30 o’clock on the afternoon of July 4 two men, a white and a black, are going to face each other in a squared ring, elevated in the centre of a large arena. They are not going to try to kill each other. They are to fight each other, true, but the fighting will be done with natural weapons, and according to very rigid and restricted rules. They are to strike each other with their hands, and their hands only. No other blow will be permitted. They cannot wrestle with each other or throw each other down. The very area on which they are allowed to land their blows is limited. It is the upper portion of the body. From the waist down all striking is tabooed. Nor may a blow be struck when a man is off his feet. The fists, which are their only fighting weapons, will be encased in padded gloves that weigh one-third of a pound. A naked knuckle can cut and injure, and it is a thing to be avoided. A third man will be in the ring with them to see that all the rules are observed. He is the referee. His word is law. Whatever he says must be obeyed. If a man strikes a foul blow, the referee will immediately disqualify him and award the victory to the other man. The referee will watch closely, circling about the two men, sometimes speaking to them in a low voice, sometimes touching one on the shoulder and sometimes the other.

And what are these two men, with the padded gloves, the rigid rules and the referee, in the ring for? What is their desire to achieve? Simply this: By means of blows with their gloved hands to see who can put the other down on the ground, and put him down so hard that he will stay down for 10 consecutive seconds. And why do they want to do this? For honor and fame and a prize for $100,000.

It sounds silly on the face of it, doesn’t it? But when it is considered that from 15,000 to 20,000 men, paying each from $10 to $50 for a seat, will be in the arena to watch the two men, that millions of dollars will be spent on this contest, that men will journey from the uttermost ends of the earth to witness it, that the ablest journalists and cartoonists of the country will be present, and that it has been and will be for a week to come the one overshadowing issue of the whole United States, all to see which of the two men can put the other down for 10 consecutive seconds, why, it would seem to become a colossal silliness.

But is it such a silliness? Is it a silliness at all, when the pages of all the newspapers are daily filled with it, the only concession that a very large portion of the people of the country are interested in it? There is a reason for their interest, just as there is a reason for my interest, and why am I interested? In the next paragraph let me show you. But here let me stand up and announce that I am so keenly interested, so overwhelmingly desirous of witnessing this contest, that there are moments when sudden fears assail me, such as that the fight will not come off, that it may be prevented by some great earthquake or terrific cataclysm of Nature. Why, I want to see that fight so bad that it hurts.

This contest of men with padded gloves on their hands is a sport that belongs unequivocally to the English-speaking race, and that has taken centuries for the race to develop. It is no superficial thing, a fad of a moment or a generation. No genius or philosopher devised it and persuaded the race to adopt it as their radical sport of sports. It is as deep as our consciousness, and is woven into the fibers of our being. It grew as our very language grew. It is an instructive passion of race. And as men to-day thrill to short Saxon words, just so do they thrill to the thud of blows of a prize fight, to the onslaught and the repulse and to the exhibition of gameness and courage. This is the ape and tiger in us, granted. But like the man in jail, it is in us, isn’t it? We can’t get away from it. It is the fact, the irrefragable fact. We like fighting—it’s our nature. We are realities in a real world, and we must accept the reality of our nature and all its thrillableness if we are to live in accord with the real world, and those who try to get away from these realities, who by ukase will deny their existence, succeed only in living in a world of illusion and misunderstanding. These are the people who compose theatre panics, fire panics and wreck panics. They are so far out of accord with the real world that they can make no adjustment with it when the supreme moment comes.

It goes without discussion, so patent is it, that an audience composed wholly of prize fighters would never engage in a theatre panic. They would be too close to the real, too wide-seeing and clear-seeing and cool to stampede like a herd of brute cattle. The chance is that they would stay and put out the fire.

Another thing which merits pointing out is that our sport of prize fighting is a fair sport. It gives play to our ethical natures. No one can disbelieve this who has ever heard a fighter, guilty of a foul blow, hooted by an indignant and outraged audience.

Our sport of prize fighting is hedged with ethical restrictions. It is synonymous with fair play. It is different from the fighting of the jungle, of which it is a development. There is absolutely no fair play in the jungle fighting. So has man improved. By that much is he less red of fang and claw. By that much has he climbed up the ladder of life. Don’t rush his development too hard. He will climb higher.

The works of Jack London and other American journalists are now freely available at The Archive of American Journalism.

The Politics of Optimism



BARTLET
Sam.

SAM
Yes sir?

BARTLET
Why shouldn't I do it?

SAM

I think you should

I think ambition is Good. 

I think overreaching is Good. 

think giving people a vision of Government that's more than Social Security checks and debt reduction is Good. 

I think Government should be Optimistic.




Here's something interesting. 

In 1940, our armed forces weren't among the twelve
most formidable in the world, but obviously, we were gonna fight a big war. 

And Roosevelt said the U.S. would produce 50,000 planes in the next four years.

Everyone thought it was a joke. 

And it was.
 
'Cause it turned out we produced 100,000 planes.

 Gave 
the Air Force an armada that would block the sun.

LISA
Do you still have what you wrote that night?

SAM
About curing Cancer?

LISA
Yeah.
Read it to me. [sits]

SAM
"Over the past half-century, we've split the atom, we've spliced the gene, and we've roamed Tranquility Base. 

We've reached for the stars, and never have we
been closer to having them in our grasp. 

New science, new technology is making the difference between life and death, and so we need a national commitment equal to this
unparalleled moment of possibility. 

And so, I announce to you tonight, that I will bring the full resources of the federal government and the full reach of my office to this fundamental goal :

" We Will Cure Cancer by the End of This Decade. "

Wednesday, 19 April 2017

BreXit : The Grenadian Revolution



Bring me my Bow of burning Gold;
Bring me my Arrows of desire:
Bring me my Spear: O clouds unfold!
Bring me my Chariot of Fire!


I will not cease from Mental Fight,
Nor shall my Sword sleep in my hand:
Till we have built 

Tuesday, 18 April 2017

A Working Class Hero is Something to Be

And Then....


Iam The Anti-Christ.

Iam an Anar-kist.

Iam in a World of Shit. 

Jesus says do not change Jewish law. 
Paul says we do not have to obey those laws. 
The first Christians thought that Paul was the Anti-Christ. 
He did not know Jesus and was not with Jesus and his claims in biblical times were not accepted by Jews or Christians.




"You see, you don't know how much people need God. 

You don't know how happy He can make them. 

He can make them happy to do anything. 
Make them happy to die, and they'll die, all for the sake of Christ. 

Jesus Christ. 
Jesus of Nazareth. 
The Son of God. 
The Messiah. 

Not you. Not for your sake. 

You know, I'm glad I met you. 

Because now I can forget all about you. 

My Jesus is much more important and much more powerful."



GLOUCESTER
Now, by Saint Paul, this news is bad indeed.
O, he hath kept an evil diet long,
And overmuch consumed his royal person:
'Tis very grievous to be thought upon.

What, is he in his bed?

*****



RICHARD GLOUCESTER
Stay, you that bear the corpse, and set it down.

LADY ANNE
What black magician conjures up this fiend,
To stop devoted charitable deeds?

RICHARD GLOUCESTER
Villains, set down the corse; or, by Saint Paul,
I'll make a corpse of him that disobeys.

Gentleman
My lord, stand back, and let the coffin pass.

RICHARD GLOUCESTER
Unmanner'd dog! stand thou, when I command:
Advance thy halbert higher than my breast,
Or, by Saint Paul, I'll strike thee to my foot,
And spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy boldness.


******

RICHARD GLOUCESTER
They do me wrong, and I will not endure it:
Who are they that complain unto the king,
That I, forsooth, am stern, and love them not?
By holy Paul, they love his grace but lightly
That fill his ears with such dissentious rumours.
Because I cannot flatter and speak fair,
Smile in men's faces, smooth, deceive and cog,
Duck with French nods and apish courtesy,
I must be held a rancorous enemy.
Cannot a plain man live and think no harm,
But thus his simple truth must be abused
By silken, sly, insinuating Jacks?

*****

RICHARD GLOUCESTER
If I thou protector of this damned strumpet--
Tellest thou me of 'ifs'? Thou art a traitor:
Off with his head! Now, by Saint Paul I swear,
I will not dine until I see the same.
Lovel and Ratcliff, look that it be done:
The rest, that love me, rise and follow me.

*****

Enter a Scrivener, with a paper in his hand
Scrivener
This is the indictment of the good Lord Hastings;
Which in a set hand fairly is engross'd,
That it may be this day read over in Paul's.
And mark how well the sequel hangs together:
Eleven hours I spent to write it over,
For yesternight by Catesby was it brought me;
The precedent was full as long a-doing:
And yet within these five hours lived Lord Hastings,
Untainted, unexamined, free, at liberty
Here's a good world the while! Why who's so gross,
That seeth not this palpable device?
Yet who's so blind, but says he sees it not?
Bad is the world; and all will come to nought,

When such bad dealings must be seen in thought.

*****

KING RICHARD III
By the apostle Paul, shadows to-night
Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard
Than can the substance of ten thousand soldiers
Armed in proof, and led by shallow Richmond.
It is not yet near day. Come, go with me;
Under our tents I'll play the eaves-dropper,

To see if any mean to shrink from me.

Ungoliant


“...the echo of the music went out into the Void, and it was not void.” 

The Silmarillion, ‘Ainulindalë’


"Some have said that in ages long before she descended from The Darkness that lies about Arda […] in the beginning she was one of those that he corrupted to his service. But she had disowned her Master."

– The Silmarillion, 
‘Of the Darkening of Valinor’ 
Chapter 8



In the beginning was The Word, and The Word was with God, and The Word was God

The same was in the beginning with God. 

All things were made by Him; and without him was not any thing made that was made. 

In Him was life; and the life was the Light of Men. 

And the light shineth in Darkness; and The Darkness comprehended it not.


"Then the Unlight of Ungoliant rose up even to the roots of the trees, and Melkor sprang upon the mound; and with his black spear he smote each Tree to its core, wounded them deep, and their sap poured forth as it were their blood, and was spilled upon the ground. 

But Ungoliant sucked it up, and going then from Tree to Tree she set her black beak to their wounds, till they were drained; and the poison of Death that was in her went into their tissues and withered them, root, branch, and leaf; and they died.

And still she thirsted, and going to the Wells of Varda she drank them dry; but Ungoliant belched forth black vapours as she drank, and swelled to a shape so vast and hideous that Melkor was afraid."


J.R.R. Tolkien
– The Silmarillion, 
‘Of the Darkening of Valinor’ 

Chapter 8









"But still, she was there, who was there before Sauron, and before the first stone of Barad-dûr; and she served none but herself, drinking the blood of Elves and Men, bloated and grown fat with endless brooding on her feasts, weaving webs of shadow; for all living things were her food, and her vomit darkness.
The Two Towers





Only a Master of Evil, Darth...

Clash of Lightsabres


In retrospect, looking back from where we are are currently, that final exchange of words between the two former friends and brothers-in-the-spirit, seems actually kinda odd, meeting one another again after decades of estrangement following the rupturing of their friendship and journey along very differing paths - why does The Hermit address his as Da'ath, like as if that's actually his NAME, rather than  an honorific title conferred upon initiates to the Sith art, along with their secret magickal name, bestowed upon each new initiate upon the commencement of his apprenticeship by his Master.

Why would he address him as "Darth", when everyone else addresses him as "Vader", or "My Lord", especially given that he not only knows his True, Given Name, but also his true CHOSEN Name, conferred upon him by His initiating Master Tutor in the Black Arts of Sith Sorcery and Dark Side Magicks, in a supposedly intended-to-be completely secret and occult 30 second P-2 style ceremony, never before witnessed by any amongst the profane, non-Sith outsiders, anywhere in the galaxy in nearly a thousand years...

But seriously, NO-ONE else addresses him or refers to him  (or any of the other Sith Lords) as simply "Darth", at any other point, anywhere in the saga - and only Yoda and Obi Wan ever refer to him in his absence as "Darth Vader", when talking with Luke concerning his future, destiny, and his ultimate test of skill and fate.

Nobody else in the galaxy, other than his master is meant to know his Secret Sith name and title, and by naming his order of rank aloud, The Hermit is able to gain just enough power over Vader during their fleeting excuse for a final final duel as to seize the initiative, momentarily knock Vader off balance just sufficient to gain the  upper hand over him, surrender his flesh of matter and achieve a decisive non- physical victory over his former pupil turned Nemesis and Shadow-self. 

The Da'ath is the Dweller on the Threshold of the gateway between the worlds, between ALL Worlds, that lies at the boundary where Life and Death meet to come face to face with their own dark refection of one another, and all that lies beyond both Death and Life, Beyond Good and Evil, out in the higher (and lower) plains of otherwise emanation, and the Nine other  Realms connecting together out there in the beyond, elsewhen within the branches of The Tree.


I have been using Tolkien as well as Twin Peaks, David Lynch movies generally, Kubrick, the Tarot and Astrotheology lately as a structure and cosmological schema to relate to a lot of these ideas and notions on a conceptual and operational level for this kind of deep study work on the really heavy duty shit like the Da'ath, and in respect of that, I think you may find the Sillmarillion especially useful and helpful to get a proper handle on this rather daunting thing (which is deliberately occluded and typically hidden away and not even shown to neophytes, due to its raw potency and potential to unleash complete mayhem on your life if you are incautious or poorly prepared to take on such a challenging and taxing spiritual test of your True Will - as Deputy Hawk warns in Twin Peaks, if you attempt to pass through the Black Lodge of your own inner Shadow-Self and think you can try to come face to face with The Dweller on The Threshold armed with only imperfect courage, then it will not only see right through you, it will utterly annihilate your soul. 

To be able to ask, 
"How's Annie?"

But back to Tolkien, in studying the mythos of the Silmarillion, I immediately intuited and recognised when studying it for the first time what I had previously suspected for quiet a while before, albeit subconsciously, from viewing and reading his later (cosmologically- speaking), far more accessible works as a firmly asseted subtext in both The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings - that for Tolkien, he was able to use in his writing, the biology, lifecycle and habits of Giant Spiders as his way relating to and copy big his expressions and manifestations of Da'-ath intruding into our, limited 3-Dimenional  realm of matter and certain mundane varieties of energies, protecting down onto our perceptual plane from a higher dimensionality, making themselves noticed  and conspicuously present and just plain THERE to our limited sensory REALITY construct via monstrous, vivid  emanations that take on the full shape, aspect, behaviour and form of Giant Spiders (of various different real-world scales of size, menace and monstrousity)


There is a very clearly related and intenntionally done and alarming  dramatic episode that occurrs around 1/3 of the way into the main narratuve, which Tolkien goes out of his way for a third time to make it clear to the reader, this time in plain and unambiguous terms that the Spiders are ABE NOT an original or native element of either Old White-Bearded Father God's design and plan for creation, OR that of Satan, starting  out simply by just fantasising and imagining how HE might have gone about laying out the universe, in a was that was clearly  just simply  more than accessible and versatile in terms of applying different techniques for figuring out exactly how to live in it, understand it and relate to how all of so many disparate aspects of it might add meaning, texture and flavours to your soul, in various ways that were ideally simple, Labour-saving and made sense without excessive forays into the abstract or pretentious. [Kinda like that last part, huh?]

But yeah, the first Mamma Spider-Demon  is explicitly identified by Tolkien as being a non-created sentience composed of Dark Matter and yawning, gaping hunger to devour ANYTHING that is of either matter, or spirit, all lights and forms of energy, a Dark Destructor beastial Demon Goddess originating from the area which exists OUTSIDE, and beyond the created universe of God and its realms of  Titans, Giants , Olympians, Heroes, Fair Folk, Men and Halflings.

Relatively early on in the cosmology of Middle Earth, Tolkein's Satan, Melkor, also called Mogroth, Sauron's original mentor, master and predecessor, the FIRST Dark Lord of matter to walk and dwell in or upon Middle Earth (I.e., here, our 3-D material reality), had just been bound and punished for his wicked behaviour by his peers, The Valar (which basically correspond exactly to the 200 Fallen Angels of the Book of Enoch, the Chiefs of Tens bound to material existence by swearing together mutual curse or an oath that locked them into the realm of materiality), and Mogroth was able to effect his escape from their fortress stronghold on Middle Earth - and while he is sneaking around at the base of the mountain range upon which it was built, and swearing  to return and wreak a terrible vengeance upon his fellow archons for binding and imprisoning him in chains for the equivalent of three or four ages of The Earth - there, in a dark, dank corner, he discovers and reveals himself to the great spider Ungoliant (Da'ath, by my reckoning).

And she has the effect of striking Mogroth (Satan) speechless and dumb in mortal terror and horror to behold her and her ceaseless aching, gluttony to devour EVERYTHING, because Mogroth instantly realise and recognises in the embodiment and incarnation of Ungoliant that :

a) Being familiar with every aspect of creation (having been present there in person along with the other Valar at the moment of creation, and witnessed the making of the entire cosmos he knows that God didn't have a hand in creating Da'ath, born of The Darkness outside creation, beyond the cosmos.

b) Satan knows HE certainly didn't create the Da'ath, and 

c) Aside from just promising her riches and spoils of vast bounties in matter to gorge on and just pointing Her in the opposite direction, towards his enemies and Nemesises, he is completely incapable of controlling or even restraining her and her ceaseless need to devour and consume EVERYTHING that is of matter, including him and ultimately as a thing of the purest darkness, she would resort to endlessly consuming even herself. She can't be reasoned with, quietened or calmed, merely held back by promises of still greater feasts and rich people eating in return for forming an alliance born of mutual greed and appetites.

Monday, 17 April 2017

Gall


"Take thou this vial, being then in bed,
And this distilled liquor drink thou off;

When presently through all thy veins shall run
A cold and drowsy humour, for no pulse
Shall keep his native progress, but surcease:
No warmth, no breath, shall testify thou livest;

The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade
To paly ashes, thy eyes' windows fall,
Like death, when he shuts up the day of life;

Each part, deprived of supple government,
Shall, stiff and stark and cold, appear like death:

And in this borrow'd likeness of shrunk death
Thou shalt continue two and forty hours,
And then awake as from a pleasant sleep.

Now, when the bridegroom in the morning comes
To rouse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead:

Then, as the manner of our country is,
In thy best robes uncover'd on the bier
Thou shalt be borne to that same ancient vault
Where all the kindred of the Capulets lie.

In the mean time, against thou shalt awake,
Shall Romeo by my letters know our drift,
And hither shall he come: and he and I
Will watch thy waking, and that very night
Shall Romeo bear thee hence to Mantua.

And this shall free thee from this present shame;"


He Died for All Your Illogical Sins

Forgive me, T'layr. 
My logic is uncertain, where My Son is concerned.

"We are assembled here today to pay final respects to our honoured dead. 
And yet it should be noted, in the midst of our sorrow, this death takes place in the shadow of new life, the sunrise of a new world; a world that our beloved comrade gave his life to protect and nourish. 
He did not feel this sacrifice a vain or empty one, and we will not debate his profound wisdom at these proceedings. 

Of my friend, I can only say this: Of all the souls I have encountered in my travels, his was the most.... 

Human."


Commander Starfleet :
Now wait a minute. This business about Spock and McCoy...
Honestly, I've never understood...Vulcan mysticism!

Kirk: 
You don't have to believe. 
I'm not even sure that I believe. 
But if there's even a chance that Spock has an eternal soul, then it's my responsibility.
.
Commander Starfleet :
Yours?

Kirk: 
(nodding his head) As surely...as if it were my very own.


Ship. . . out of danger?

Kirk: 
Yes.

Don't grieve, Admiral. 
It is logical. 
The needs of The Many outweigh . . .

Kirk: 
-- the needs of The Few . . .

-- or The One. 

I never took the Kobayashi Maru test. Until now. 
What do you think of my solution? 

I have been . . . and always shall be . . . your friend. 
Live long - and prosper!



My Father says that you have been my friend. 
That you came back for me.

Kirk: 
You would have done the same for me.

Why would you do this..?

Kirk: 
Because the needs of the one . . . outweigh the needs of the many.

(Spock begins to remember
I have been and always shall be your friend.

Kirk: 
Yes. Yes, Spock.

Ship...out of danger?

James T. Kirk: 
You saved the ship. You saved us all. Don't you remember?

Jim...your name is Jim.

Kirk: 
Yes.

Easter Eggs




Every great magic trick consists of three parts or acts. The first part is called "The Pledge". The magician shows you something ordinary: a deck of cards, a bird or a man. He shows you this object. Perhaps he asks you to inspect it to see if it is indeed real, unaltered, normal. But of course...it probably isn't. The second act is called "The Turn". The magician takes the ordinary something and makes it do something extraordinary. Now you're looking for the secret... but you won't find it, because of course you're not really looking. You don't really want to know. You want to be fooled. But you wouldn't clap yet. Because making something disappear isn't enough; you have to bring it back. That's why every magic trick has a third act, the hardest part, the part we call "The Prestige".


 The audience knows The Truth. 

The World is simple, miserable, solid all the way through. 


But if you can fool them, even for a second... then you can make them wonder. 
And you get to see something very special. ... 
You really don't know. ... 

It was the look on their faces.

Pilate marvelled if he were already dead...
Mark 15:44

Death by Crucifiction typically took around 3-4 days, minimum;

Due to the Passover Holiday falling on the Sabbath, the longest Christ could have remained on the cross at Golgotha was 3-4 hrs before being taken down (by Joseph of Aramethia and his women) and placed in a prepared tomb (which was somebody else's), where he would lay undisturbed - to recover - for up to 3 days prior to burial.

Live in imitation of Christ - Commit PSEUDOCIDE.




Why would they not even bother to break his legs...?

DEATH BY CRUCIFIXION:

HASTENED by the breaking of the legs, so that the victim could not push up to take a good breath. 

John 19:32-33:  The soldiers therefore came and broke the legs of the first man who had been crucified with Jesus, and then those of the other. But when they came to Jesus and found that he was already dead, they did not break his legs."


If we to find the actual specifics of what really was said to have occurred in connection with the Crucifiction by working directly from the facts as related by the canonic gospels, it's quite apparent that whatever measure of agony and torment he was forced to endure, simply experiencing that alone wouldn't possibly have been cause enough for him to really be dead from what he went through over the span of a single Friday.

The Gospels are clear on this - Christ suffered on the cross for, at most, seven or nine hours, and had been taken down (dead), and ritually washed, cleaned, wrapped and buried in a borrowed tomb before sunset, due to the Sabbath commencing that night.

Death by the Roman method of Crucifiction was generally reckoned to occur usually around the fifth or six day, although survival for an entire week was not uncommon for strong and robust individuals to endure.

Hence the customary breaking of the legs to hasten death and ease the suffering of the condemned by their relatives, as an act of mercy.

Not desirable for those who still expected to have need of the ability to walk in the future, however.

He wasn't even in Roman custody until early Friday morning, and went through at least two trials and three legal hearings to determine his fate and sentence, plus his pre-sentence scourging, which probably was taking place around the same time Pilate offered his freedom to the mob outside, who chose to have him pardon Barabbas instead. 

So it would seem we could say that the need does exist for a Magic Nail Theory - how could all of this damage have been done by the means described in the time allowed? It just isn't feasible.

It just doesn't explain it - the explanation is not sufficient to the facts, and does not match the observed outcomes, so we need to seek a Higher Hypothesis for explanation of the truth.


40 There were also women looking on afar off: among whom was Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James the less and of Joses, and Salome;

41 (Who also, when he was in Galilee, followed him, and ministered unto him;) and many other women which came up with him unto Jerusalem.

42 And now when the even was come, because it was the preparation, that is, the day before the sabbath,

Superman Red and Superman Blue

 
Superman Red and Superman Blue

"Would I be The Man in The Box or The Prestige?"