Friday, 31 May 2019


“Eöl was brought to Turgon’s hall and stood before his high seat, proud and sullen. Though he was amazed no less than his son at all that he saw, his heart was filled the more with anger and with hate of the Noldor. 

But Turgon treated him with honour, and rose up and would take his hand; and he said: ‘Welcome, Kinsman, for so I hold you. Here you shall dwell at your pleasure, save only that you must here abide and depart not from My Kingdom; for it is My Law that none who finds the way hither shall depart.’ 

But Eöl withdrew his hand. ‘I acknowledge not Your Law,’ he said. ‘No right have you or any of your kin in this land to seize realms or to set bounds, either here or there. This is the land of The Teleri, to which you bring war and all unquiet, dealing ever proudly and unjustly. I care nothing for your secrets and I came not to spy upon you, but to claim My Own: My Wife and My Son. Yet if in Aredhel your sister you have some claim, then let her remain; let the bird go back to the cage, where soon she will sicken again, as she sickened before. But not so Maeglin. My Son you shall not withhold from me. Come, Maeglin Son of Eöl! Your Father commands you. Leave the house of his enemies and the slayers of his kin, or be accursed!’ 

But Maeglin answered nothing. 

Then Turgon sat in his high seat holding his Staff of Doom, and in a stern voice spoke: ‘I will not debate with you, Dark Elf. By the swords of the Noldor alone are your sunless woods defended. Your freedom to wander there wild you owe to my kin; and but for them long since you would have laboured in thraldom in the pits of Angband. And here I am King; and whether you will it or will it not, My Doom is Law. This choice only is given to you: to abide Here, or to die Here; and so also for your son.’ 

Then Eöl looked into the eyes of King Turgon, and he was not daunted, but stood long without word or movement while a still silence fell upon the hall; and Aredhel was afraid, knowing that he was perilous. 

Suddenly, swift as serpent, he seized a javelin that he held hid beneath his cloak and cast it at Maeglin, crying: ‘The second choice I take and for my son also! You shall not hold what is mine!’ 

But Aredhel sprang before the dart, and it smote her in the shoulder; and Eöl was overborne by many and set in bonds, and led away, while others tended Aredhel. But Maeglin looking upon his father was silent. It was appointed that Eöl should be brought on the next day to the King’s judgement; and Aredhel and Idril moved Turgon to mercy. But in the evening Aredhel sickened, though the wound had seemed little, and she fell into the darkness, and in the night she died; for the point of the javelin was poisoned, though none knew it until too late. 

Therefore when Eöl was brought before Turgon he found no mercy; and they led him forth to the Caragdûr, a precipice of black rock upon the north side of the hill of Gondolin, there to cast him down from the sheer walls of the city. 

And Maeglin stood by and said nothing; but at the last Eöl cried out: ‘So you forsake your father and his kin, ill-gotten son! Here shall you fail of all your hopes, and here may you yet die the same death as I.’ “


Thursday, 30 May 2019

The Celestial Ship of the North

After The Earth was used up, we found a new solar system and hundreds of new Earths were terraformed and colonized. 

The central planets formed The Alliance and decided all the planets had to join under their rule. 

There was some disagreement on that point. 

After The War, many of the Independents who had fought and lost drifted to the edges of the system, far from Alliance control. 

Out here, people struggled to get by with the most basic technologies; a ship would bring you work, a gun would help you keep it. 

A Captain's goal was simple: find a crew, find a job, keep flying.

“ Production came to an end on Buffy, Season 3 [1999], and over my Summer vacation, I was reading The Killer Angels, about the survivors of Gettysburg, and it immediately made me think of the Millennium Falcon. 

You know, as most things do.

As the more advanced cultures become more homogonised and spread out into the other worlds where life is tougher and people are more diverse, there's conflict. 

I was dealing with the idea of a Civil War, and the idea of rebuilding people who had lost The War - this is something that is a big part of American Fiction.

There's very little American Fiction about the people who won The War, about The North, the people we all like to be identified with, we're all interested in The South because they lost, and we love Losers.

The forming of The Alliance causes a power that is so great that there's no way it can justly rule over The Entire Universe, and so I'm dealing with the people on The Fringes who're saying  :

'You Don't Belong Here, You Don't Belong on Our Soil, 
Yes, You Guys are Progressive, 
You've Got Great Medicine, Incredible Healthcare Plan, 
You've Got Freedom of Religion, 
You've Got All These Great Things 
We Don't Have That Stuff, 
Some of Our Customs are Arcane, 
Some of Them, Maybe, a Little Barbaric -  

But We Have a Right to Be Ourselves.'

And that's where the Utopian Vision stops, because whenever you create some kind of Utopia you find something ugly working underneath it."

— Joss Wheedon


It's a small, disreputable place, doing a brisk but low-key business. Most of the people here are probably up to something they don't want other people to know about. The dark wood and clutter suggest a Western space, but it is definitely multi-cultural: a bellydancer makes her way about the room, and everyone's mode of dress is diverse -- though none is too fancy.

We follow a BELLY DANCER's undulating belly through the space, coming to a table with three people sitting at it. ZOE and JAYNE are more or less facing us, MAL has his back mostly turned. The three are concentrating on a game we can't see.

Those who look carefully will spot the bellydancer's hand as it slips Mal a piece of paper, which he slips in turn into his pocket.

(to Mal)
Your move.

Camera ARMS UP to see the game on the table is Chinese Checkers. Mal moves.

That's a bold move.

I live on the edge.

Zoe makes a much better move.

(to Mal)
Nice work, dumbass.

I've given some thought to moving
off the edge, it's not an ideal
location... might get a place in
the middle...

A toast!

The VOICE is surly, loud. Trouble waiting to happen. As it speaks, Mal turns back towards camera and we see him in closeup. Calm, assessing the danger.

ANGLE: The guy who spoke, LUND. A drunken dick, holding court at the bar.

A toast. Shut up! Quiet, I'm, I
got words. I'm say, this is an
asspishus day. We all know what
day it is...

ANGLE: The gang. Mal is stone-faced, Zoe the same. They clearly know where this is going. Jayne has no clue.

Suspicious? What day is it?

A glorious day for all the proud
members of the Allied planets.
Unification Day! The end of the
Independent scumbags and the dawn
of a new galaxy! Yeah-huh!

He downs a shot.

Mal is grabbing his empty glass, rising.


Just feeling the need for a drink.

(not paying attention)
What month is it?

Mal moves to the bar, far from Lund.

(in Chinese)
< Can I have one more glass of Ng-
Ka-Pei, please? >

Lund, naturally, sidles up to him.

You gonna drink to the Alliance with me?

Mal looks at him, looks away.

Six years today... The Alliance sent the browncoats running, pissing their pants.

Mal is not biting. He gets his drink, tosses a weird looking bill on the bar.

Your coat's kind of a brownish color...

It was on sale.

He drinks.

You didn't toast! You know, I'm thinking you're one of them. Independents.

And I'm thinking you weren't burdened with an overabundance of schooling. 
So why don't we just ignore each other till we go away?

He turns back to the bar. Lund pursues.

The Independents were a bunch of inbred, cowardly pisspots shoulda been killed off a every world spinnin'.

Mal turns, ready for the fight.

Say that to my face.

I said, you're a coward and a
pisspot. Now what're you gonna do
about it?

Mal smiles casually.

Nothing. I just wanted you to face
me so she could get behind you.

Lund spins and Zoe SWAPS him with the butt of her sawed-off. He goes down.

Mal and Zoe smile grimly at each other as she holsters the weapon.

Drunks are so cute.

Suddenly, seven GUYS stand up, seeing what happened to Lund. They are not wearing colors like Mal and Zoe's.

(continuing; in
< Oh, this is a happy
development... >

Zoe turns, sees the coming fight.


ANGLE: Jayne: Sits, unconcerned.

Hey, I didn't fight in no war.
Best of luck, though...

Fine. Lets do this.


Mal goes flying through the front window -- only it's not glass, rather an ionized field that CRACKLES and REFORMS after he passes through.

He rolls in the dirt, stops. Looking up, he hears the sound of fighting within -- we might notice at this point that the sky contains THREE MOONS, one so close it looks like another planet on the horizon.

Mal shakes off the punch, pulls out a transmitter.

(into transmitter)
Wash, we got some local color happening... a grand entrance would not go amiss...

Zoe comes flying out the door, takes two others with her, giving them hell.

Mal rises, helps her put them down.

Is Jayne even awake --

Three guys come backwards out of the bar, driven by the table Jayne is wielding. Another comes behind and he elbows him into dreamland without even looking back. Jayne is an incredible fighter.

Our gang ends up side by side, facing an angry bunch of at least ten guys. We might notice our three backed up at the EDGE OF A CLIFF.

Well, there's just an acre of you fellows...
(to Zoe)
This is why we lost, you know: superior numbers.

Thanks for the reenactment, sir.

Lund forces his way through the crowd and pulls his gun. This changes things. Our gang look at each other.

Them ain't kosherized rules...

Others pull guns (even though they feel odd about it). Our gang don't yet.

I'm thinking someone should put you down, dog. 
What do you think?

I'm thinking we'll rise again.

It is at this moment that SERENITY rises from behind the cliff, dwarfing our combatants.

Wind rips through everyone, the assailants starting back in fear (and grit in their eyes). 
An amplified voice (WASH's) comes over a loudspeaker:

Every man there go back inside or we will blow a new crater in this little moon.

Lund and the others back off, grumbling but cowed.

ANGLE: Behind our heroes.

The airlock door opens and our gang step onto it from the cliff face.


The doors shut behind them. Mal and Zoe head upstairs as Jayne wanders off, saying:

Damn yokels can't even tell a transport ship ain't got no guns on it.
"Blow a new crater in this moon..."


Mal and Zoe are entering the bridge as Kaylee is coming up the hall behind them, grease on her face and some unidentifiable ship part in her hand. She's thrilled by the drama.

(to Wash)
Nice save.


How are our passengers?

They're fine. What happened? Was there a terrible brawl?

(eyeing Mal)
Oddly enough, there was.

You getting my wife into trouble?

What? I didn't start it. Just wanted a quiet drink.

Funny, Sir, how you always find yourself in some Alliance-friendly bar come U-Day, looking for a
"quiet drink."

See, this is a sign of your tragic space dementia. All paranoid and crotchety, it breaks the heart.

Well did we least make a contact?

Mal smiles, produces the piece of paper handed him by the bellydancer.

Ladies and menfolk, we got ourselves a job.

He hands the paper to Zoe.

Take us out of The World, Wash.
(looking ahead)
Got us some crime to be done.


As it blasts past camera, heading out of the atmosphere.


Do you get scared coming to work at the White House?

No. I mean, we're bystanders, basically, and we work around a lot of people who routinely put themselves in harm's way-the Secret Service and the military. 

You know, the protection detail? 

They practice a thousand different scenarios for a gun: who tackles the president, who opens the car, who's covering the perimeter, and there's one guy whose job it is to stand in front of the bullet. 

Not get the shooter - stand in front of the bullet. I've seen him do it.

Do you ever think about quitting?

[hesitates for a moment, and continues] 
Well... my, uh... my mother wants me to. 

My family members have a habit of, uh, dying before you're supposed too. 
So it's just me and my mom now and... 
You guys know I guess, that I got accidentally shot a little bit or something at Rosslyn. 
So, she'd like to see me in the private sector. 

But I tell her my government salary may not be a lot, but I still make more than the guy whose job it is to stand in front of the bullet, so how do I tell him I'm quitting? 

So she made me this box that I'm supposed to keep in the trunk of my car, and it's got a super-powered flashlight, five gallons of water, and a transistor radio, and some first aid. 

But she keeps thinking of things to add to it. She'll call and say, uh, 
"I found that cap that Dad got Joe Pepitone to sign for you on your birthday. 
You wore it to school every day in the seventh grade. 
You want me to send it to you so you can put it in the box?" 

Josh has trailed off a bit, and stops for a moment, looking sad and serious. 

He looks around the room for a moment. He starts up again, livelier.

So... I'll say 
"Yeah, Ma, let's put it in the box." 

Josh gives a little chuckle. He walks over, leaning against something by the wall.

So anyway, I... I don't know against who, and I don't know what it's going to look like,  but one of these days we're gonna have a big win, and for a lot of us who've seen what we've seen, we're not leaving till we do. 

I'm gonna be here six presidents from now, in my office, Wile E. Coyote and a map.

Time Suit, Go!

Mason Lang: 

“I remember looking at the Liberty Bell in Philadelphia when I was a little kid. 

That's what I love about illusions; they're right up there in front of you but somehow you don't see them... until suddenly you do... and I saw that I lived in a world where the symbol was more important than the reality. 

Where the menu was supposed to taste better than the meal. 

They're bombing planet Hollywood... those terrorists know exactly where the power lies. 

None of it's real. 

Kennedy was a good man. 

Nixon was a bad man. 

Is that true or is that just what we've been told is true? 

Half of the stars in Hollywood are gay pretending to be straight... 

(Walt Disney) was a shit. 

The moon landings happened in a studio. 

The America I thought I lived in was a trick; I'd only ever really seen it on TV, in comic books and movies... especially movies. 

The Rosicrucians who built this country wouldn't know where they were if you brought them here, would they? 

Not until you showed them Independence Day. 

That night when I pissed down over Manhattan, I saw time. I saw time itself... 

America has been in a declared state of national emergency since March 9th, 1933, giving the president powers to suspend freedom of speech and take control away from all communications media at any time. 

Who cares? Bruce Willis is here to save us all. The more I looked, the less real America became. 

And the less real it became, the stronger it got. 

Planet Hollywood.

One of their agents said to me... "however things turn out, you'll be working for us." 

That's what I was hoping he'd say. 

When they discover that the liquid processors in the decoy time suit work, they'll have to call me. 

I'll have to give them all my technology. 

They haven't quite figured out how to fight the wars of the 21st century yet... too bad. 

My homeopathic processors will be standard military issue by 2005. 

I've already installed trapdoor access into all of those systems. 

By 2012 I'll have control of the entire western military industrial complex.“

Wednesday, 29 May 2019


"There's a Korean word, Han, I looked it up. 
There is no literal English translation; 
It's a State of Mind; of Soul, really. 

A Sadness; a Sadness so deep no tears will come. 

And yet still, there's Hope. "

Imperial Recruitment Officer :
What's your name, son? 

Han :

What's your name, son?
Han what?
Who are your people?
I don't have people.
I'm alone.
Proceed to transport ID 83 for
the Naval Academy at Carida.
Good luck, Han Solo.
We'll have you flying
in no time.

Read more:
Imperial Recruitment Officer : 
'Han' what? Who are Your People? 

Han :
I don't have people. I'm alone. 

Imperial Recruitment Officer :
Han... (TYPING
Solo. Approved. 
Proceed to transport ID 83 for the Naval Academy at Carida. 

Good luck, Han Solo. 
We'll have you flying in no time.

BARTLET [to Jai] 

I'm sorry to say I cannot let you defect. 
Do you understand me? 

[Jai's playing slows right down

You have to keep playing. 

[Bartlet now sits on the piano stool next to Jai

There's an important nuclear agreement being worked out. 

Do you understand my English?


I try to stay, you arrest me?




You give me back to them. 

BARTLET [emphatically
No. Freedom means choice. 
You must decide which is the most responsible course. 

You know Korean word 'Han'? 


[the Korean handlers walk over to Jai and Bartlet

I could practise the fingering every day for the rest of my life, I'd never be able to play it like that. 

It is... this. 

 Jai begins playing softly and mournfully.

Saruman of Many Colours

For I am Saruman the Wise, Saruman Ring-maker, Saruman of Many Colours!'

I looked then and saw that his robes, which had seemed white, were not so, but were woven of all colours, and if he moved they shimmered and changed hue so that the eye was bewildered. 

‘I liked White better,' I said. 

‘White!' he sneered. 'It serves as a beginning. White cloth may be dyed. The white page can be overwritten; and the white light can be broken.' 

‘In which case it is no longer white,' said I. 'And he that breaks a thing to find out what it is has left the path of wisdom.' - Gandalf

Exactly as Expected

Monday, 27 May 2019

Thor Was Something of a Yorkshireman

E:  Sir, I come as emissary of the Prince of Wales with the most
    splendid news. He wants your daughter Amy for his wife.

H:  Well his wife can't have her! Outrageous, sir, to come here with
    such a suggestion! (stands up angrily) Why, sir, or I shall take off
    my belt and by thunder me trousers will fall down!

“The whole point about Odin was that he had the Right but not the Might. 

The point about Norse religion was that it alone of all mythologies told Men to serve Gods who were admittedly fighting with their backs to The Wall and would certainly be defeated in The End. 

‘I am off to die with Odin’ said the rover in Stevenson’s fable, thus proving that Stevenson understood something about the Nordic spirit which (Nazi) Germany has never been able to understand at all. 

The Gods will fall. The Wisdom of Odin, the Humourous Courage of Thor (Thor was something of a Yorkshireman) and the Beauty of Balder, will all be smashed eventually by the realpolitik of the stupid giants and misshapen trolls. 

But that does not in the least alter the allegiance of any free man. 

Hence, as we should expect, real Germanic poetry is all about heroic stands, and fighting against hopeless odds.”

- C.S. Lewis

Sunday, 26 May 2019


“Akron Daraul, in his History of Secret Societies, traces the Illuminati back to the Ishmaelian sect of Islam, a quasi-Sufi organisation which used sex-and-hashish to program higher states of consciousness. Louis Culling also trance Crowley’s magick tradition back to medieval Sufis  who were contemporaries of, and presumably influenced by, the Ishmaelians. Francis King, the leading (non-paranoid) occult historian of our time, quotes official Ordo Temple Orentis documents, written either by Crowley or under Crowley’s supervision, which claim that O.T.O. was founded by Mansur el Hallaj, a Medieval Sufi saint.

The Sufis have always claimed to be in communication with Higher Intelligences, just like the early Gnostics, from whom many historians believe Sufism derives. A Sudi philosopher, Idries Shah, in a book of strange parables called The Dermis Probe, says his purpose is to illustrate “some of the peculiarities of thought in the country which is today’s world, seen by its inhabitants and by those who call themselves visitors.”  (Italics added.)

As soon as the Fool entered the belief-system in which the Illuminati were Sufis living in the Western world and continuing this millennia-old contact with Higher Intelligences, the phenomenon inserting his life adjusted itself to support this theory. He had a weird experience with a Sufi.

My son Graham went to Berkley to Berkeley to visit with friends for the summer. He was supposed to phone to phone, home once a week, but of course he didn’t always do so. One day, I got a lecture engagement at the First Unitarian Church in Berkeley and Arlen asked me to try and find Graham and  insure that he was not in any trouble. Finding one 14-year-old-boy in a city the size of Berkeley is not easy, but after my lecture I tried wandering around, hoping my ESP would click into action and direct me on the right path.

Greg Hill, Bill Broadbent and I wandered into Tilden Park, watching some clowns perform. Graham was not in the crowd, so I wanted to move on. Bill insisted that we wait. The Shaman became interested in one particular clown, Parcifal, recognising some of his stunts as Sufi exercises to activate higher-circuit consciousness.

The Sufis are notorious for disguising themselves as clowns, but this was the first time I had actually seen it done.

“That guy’s a Sufi,” I said to Greg and Bill.

After the act, Greg went up to Parcifal and asked directly, “Are you a Sufi?”

Parcifal turned. “Are you also on the Path?” Parcifal rejoined.

“No,” Greg said, indicating me, “he said you’re a Sufi.”

Parcifal turned. “Are you on the Path?” he asked.

“Well, I’m on some Path or other,” I said. We got into a rap about Sufism and the Western occult tradition and how both link up with Gnosticism and the Egyptian mysteries. Finally, the Father said, “I have to leave. I’m looking for my son.”

The Father walked about ten paces and saw Graham sitting in Hardcastles restaurant on Telegraph Avenue.

“We’re going back to Telegraph,” I told Bill and Greg.

The trip took a half-hour. When we arrived, Graham and two friends had just entered before us. Graham was not in Hardcastle’s when I saw him there. The Oracle had seen across time as well as across space.”


Well, he was Borderline for a while —
Then he crossed The Border.

Jordan Peterson - Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD)

Loyalty really isn't high on your list.

Oh, is that right? I'll have you know I am damn loyal, dumbass.
(crosses her arms)

(walks slowly, painfully toward her)
You betrayed me. You are betraying me now, even as we are talking.

(raising her voice)
Because you never have any confidence in me.

No, because you have no soul.

I would if you had confidence in me.


"By his own approximation, Bob assassinated Jesse James over 800 times.

He suspected no one in history had ever so often or so publicly recapitulated an Act of Betrayal.

Bob always challenged the allegations of cowardice... but Charley seemed to agree with them.

He spoke of Mrs. Zee James as certain priests might The Madonna, and composed long soul-describing letters to her, begging her forgiveness... 
none of which he mailed.

Charley Ford became all that his countrymen wanted an assassin of Jesse James to be."

Friday, 24 May 2019

Lump of Vanity

“It is a whore!...

My wife, my dear good wife, took this girl soon after, sir and put her out on the highroad. 

And being what she is, a lump of vanity, sir... she thinks to dance with me on my wife’s grave!"

Ronald Reagan was a Rescuer

 “His experiences as a Lifeguard left him with a sense that he could rescue those in need.

In The Movies, he played 
The Hero who came to The Rescue
He felt that he was playing himself.

As President, 
The World was his Stage, 
The Script was his own —
And the possibilities for Rescue, were ENORMOUS.

 The Detente Treaties, 
had the deeply reckless effect of reducing the tension, 
whilst increasing the danger of Global Thermonuclear Warfare between the Superpowers.

“Reagan was NOT AFRAID of The Monolith — 
I Think He Felt Jimmy Carter Was, 
I Think He May Have Thought Gerald Ford Was.

Reagan was NEVER AFRAID of The Soviet Union — 
and he hated it, very much.

So the only powerful, negative emotion he’s had in his life 
was this animus against this Totalitarian System…"