The Quonset Hut

Solstice.....sun/still...latin.
Is where the story of jesus origonates from, and Mithras, and horus.
The sun stays still for three days, then arises again.

The "pinch point" is the cubic heart centre point they call a black hole.
Kevin

kevin wrote:Yesterday was the solstice.
See if You can see how such a TIMEing relates to this link?
http://thelamplight.ca/schematicoftime/researching3.htm
You will need to read through the pages, and then try to consider how the solstices and equinoxs fit into the patterning described .
Kevin

kevin,

Interesting link to say the least. I am NOT done reading it. For some reason, it is a bit long and I don't want to just speed read it, I did that at first. Some things caught my attention and I put the brakes or should I say, reduced my speed.

I hope to read it in full and comment later, but the one thing I totally agree with is perception. Not all perceive the same which brings to mind the three blind men describing an elephant by touch.

Mikado

Mikado,
I make hundreds of sets of dowsing rods from white covered coat hangers.
It is akin to talking to the blind ,as You try to describe and explain about dowsing.
I give them freely to anyone who's interest is peaked.

We have more senses than meets the eyes though.
Kevin

Horus it is, Hobbit.
Well then, so be it (haha !).

When I was 18 years old, a friend of mine – my best one – asked me to go with him to a “session” with a Palmist, a renowned guy, name of “Professor Horus” (check the Net, if you find the coincidence hard to believe), who was an old man (he was just 67 or so, but to me then he seemed like Methuselah) who had for decades read the hands of several national and international “high-profile” persons. His “office”, actually, had lots of pictures of him side by side with them. Some I recognized, from politicians to actors to footballers. Most, I didn’t.

Peter (that’s my friend’s name) was obsessed with the subject and afraid to tackle it by himself. So one day, after we having had many previous conversations about his intentions, he just asked me if I would tag along, riding shotgun, so to speak, for he had scheduled “ a session”.

Since he said the magic words to any guy living off a father’s allowance - “I’ll pay, if he charges you” - that did it for me.
I tagged along.
Sure, why not ? I said, since was amused, to say the least, by his curiosity. Your money, your foolishness, I remember saying to Peter.

Well, the old fart was a very sober man. Nothing like I expected. Three piece suited and quite meticulous. No drama whatsoever, a plain office full of books on shelves and pictures, like a lawyer’s. He would die the next year, as things go, but I was naturally unaware of that.

Which was one of the reasons – not the only one, though – why I broke his balls.

One other reason was simply because I was cocky about myself and liked to break balls for sport.
Another was because after something like half an hour of listening to his auguric “divinations” over Peter’s future , I was fed up with the whole thing. And, anyways, to me and my cockiness, he was nothing but a charlatan, a trickster, a urban gypsy, a circus dweller missing his tent and crystal ball.

Being fed up as I said I was, and willing to rock his boat, I asked him : “So, tell me if I may ask, were you born with this “ability” (I remember stressing the word) or did you learn it, like, study it from some Master ?”

He looked straight at me, just smiled and asked if he could “read” my hand. “Your Left one”, he said.

So there I was, moving from a backside armchair to a chair alongside my friend facing his desk, while saying to him “Sure, as long as that doesn’t mean me paying you a thing, I’m here for the ride” or words to that effect (more than a couple of decades gone by, so I don’t recall exactly), to which he again just smiled and answered “I don’t want your money, just your hand”.

Well – wow - that was a surprise, I thought, and you owe me, Peter, I just saved you some cash, I also thought.

He took my left hand and stretched it. Looked at it for a couple minutes, pulling apart a finger here and a finger there. And then said “Hmmmm”. Stretched some more, now sideways and then backways, and after a while, again hummed “Hmmmm” … a humming which, to my irritation, was one time too may for me. “So, you see anything there besides my blisters, Professor Horus ?” (again stressing the word “Professor” and even smiling a bit while at it) for I had been mowing my parents lawn and sawing some pine branches for an extra cash on top of the usual monthly slot, and that greed of mine had left its marks on my hands.

He looked at me and gave a nod, answering with a curt “Yes, lots”.

So, okay - I thought - I’ll bite, and said “What ? what do you see ?”

“None of your business” he answered “it was just for my curiosity” and with that he let go of my hand.

I pressed on – “Say what ? so you saw “lots” (drawling the word) but you will not tell me what about it ? Is this the time I’m supposed to offer you money, Professor ? (took my time, I remember very well, saying “Professor” with disdain oozing out of it).

“No” he replied with a bored sigh (or so it registered with me) “this is the time where you will remember me offering you a way out, and you accepting it. You will, will you not ? Accept the way out ?”

“Out of what ?” I asked him, puzzled and really annoyed by all the hocus pocus.

“Out of your future” he just said.

I looked at him, took my time thinking (I don’t remember about what, but I’m sure it was just a looking and thinking thing, as in biding my time) and told him : “Go fuck yourself, Professor”. Very quietly. No outburst at all, just a matter of fact statement. And then got up and left the man’s office.

Never saw Horus again and next year or so he was dead. And I never figured what the hell he was talking about, on that afternoon of 23 December 1986.

Now, this is the interesting part, and sorry (if you’re still reading this, that is) for all the moves up to here ….

Why – now and then – does this nag me ?

Well, one, because Hobbit and his “horus” reference obviously triggered something (of all times today) and two, mainly because, incredible as it may seem to say – and it does seem – because what I then heard Horus say about my best friend’s future was close to a blueprint to what came to happen, namely, the fact that he would marry three times, and lose his best friend between the second and third marriages.

Which he did.
Marry three times, and lose me (or me him) after the second.

Now, did he marry three times because that was meant to be or because, say, the “Professor” told him he would ? And did we fight after his second breakup (a four year old kid from the first marriage and a 3 weeks baby from the second being the reason, far as I recall it, for me punching his face after a yelling match and him punching mine in turn) because we both remembered the “Professor” and his prophecy, or because I was truly mad at his callous selfishness and him raging at my sanctimonious preaching ?

And all that pondered, pardon my French, what the fuck was “the way out” of my “future” that fucking wheezer was talking about ?



Go figure this shite out.

LouisP,
Your prof.Horus was not looking at Your hand with His eyes, but with the eye of Horus.
I am a diviner, via the palms of My hands, it's where information flows in/out of.
My hands are full of nodules from My Viking ancestory.
Dupuytrens, Celtic.
Kevin

At long last ....

Mr. Bond and his Walther PPK are back.

Am counting the days to see something more besides this teaser : https://youtu.be/GvQJbF2CXLQ

I've been working myself raw.
I've been sustaining a said unsustainable stance, and proving sayers wrong.
I'm still alive, and kicking.
And Enjoying the Fight.

That said,

Hope you guys - all of you - have been faring well !

I'll be back, soon as these mothers around me drop dead for good.