*Wha? Whaddaya mean I fucked that up? Who the fuck are you, and what in the fuck do you know about what is or is not, fucked up? /me snorts*
Err…I mean, Greetings Dear Reader. I am still Mr. Slimey and I’m still filling in for RooBeeDoo and her Dolphin assistant Clicky, both of whom may in fact be vacationing somewhere in España. I’ve currently no proof to substantiate this claim, but maybe they’ll provide photographic and/or some other evidence upon their safe return.
*Ya know, at a cursory glance, she appears to be both bipedal and reasonably agile/mobile. Why exactly she’s crawling around on all fours is…mysterious…*
It appears that there is indeed a need for this 3rd part, but let’s let the lady take over at this point, and she can steer us in the direction of wherever it is we need be.
*I dunno, Clicky… /flicks lighter… I had started writing a post on the John Lamb Lash video talks… /shakes lighter… New format… /flicks lighter… He’s got a Limey companion now, called Ginny… /shakes lighter again… I’m enjoying the Anglo-Yank combo… /flicks lighter… Reminds of a sumfin’… /gives up and rummages through handbag…*
Not sure what Part 3, Cade thinks we need, Dear Reader…
* /rolls eyes… Oh okay, Clicky… /finds working light… *
The Hierophant In The Womb
“expounder of sacred mysteries,” 1670s, from Late Latin hierophantes, from Greek hierophantes“one who teaches the rites of sacrifice and worship,” literally “one who shows sacred things,” from hieros “sacred,” from PIE root *eis-, forming words denoting passion (see ire) + phainein“to reveal, bring to light” (from PIE root *bha- (1) “to shine”). In modern use, “expounder of esoteric doctrines,” from 1822.
This morning my good friend Shiny posted me a story link on MEROVEE, over in the Red universe, Dear Reader…
‘“I believe the elephant may have been trying to ingest wood charcoal,” said Dr Varun Goswami, WCS India scientist and elephant biologist.
And the reason the scientists think she’s taking up smoking, Dear Reader?
‘The charred lumps of wood can also serve as a laxative to the pachyderms who are able to consume it in the wild after forest fires and lightning strikes.’
*/grins… And Shiny posted it in the Red ‘Excretion’ universe of MRS REGN? Priceless… /puffs merrily…*
“divination by smoke,” c. 1600, with -mancy“divination by means of” + Latinized form of Greek kapnos “smoke,” which is of uncertain origin, perhaps a non-Indo-European substrate word that also produced Lithuanian kvapas “breath, smell,”kvepiu, kvėpti “to gasp, breathe,” Latvian kvept“to smoke, smell,” and perhaps Latin vapor.
That’s as far as I got, Dear Reader. It is a “very great fact”, as John Lamb Lash might say, that elephants never forget…
Reich-ous Hitler lost his War, Dear Reader. So if Lashy is correct in his telling of the Sophia Correction narrative, it rather begs the question:
Q: If Adolf had the whole fucking planet on his side, how in the hell did he lose?
A: Could it be?
Nah! It’s not like tobacco is associated with a goddess or sumfin’…
‘And at the spot where they had burned First Mother’s bones, there grew another plant, broad-leafed and fragrant. It was First Mother’s breath, and they heard her spirit talking: “Burn this up and smoke it. It is sacred. It will clear your minds, help your prayers, and gladden your hearts.”
‘And First Mother’s husband called the first plant Skarmunal, corn, and the second plant utarmur-wayeh, tobacco.
‘“Remember,” he told the people, “and take good care of First Mother’s flesh, because it is her goodness become substance. Take good of her breath, because it is her love turned into smoke. Remember her and think of her whenever you eat, whenever you smoke this sacred plant, because she has given her life so that you might live. Yet she is not dead, she lives: in undying love she renews herself again and again.”’
Two things happened this week. One with little mainstream media coverage…
… And one saturated…
That’s quite enough for now, Dear Reader. Locking up the LoL for tonight before we get arrested… Have a Song 😉
Thanks for having me 😀
That’s all there is for now, and there ain’t no fucking more.
It’s time for you and all your parts, to hit the fucking door.
Get your seated ass de-planted, and get your knees unbent.
Put some swagger in those hips, just in time for end of Lent.
The eggzit is where you’re headed, head there now and soon.
Or else I’ll chase you out with my….say, where’d I put my broom?
Seriously…I’m not fucking around…get gone.