1. Beautiful and desirable as Babylon you are Ishtar. Long and lithe, tapered and refined, all is perfected in sculpted curves, revealing two hovering globes, floating freely, in endless fields of anti-gravity. Forever you are risen, and received, always in pleasant conversation, with the Stars, that are many, and different.

    • Silly girl, Fatima, Joan of Arc? Here’s one for you:

      Chapter 59
      Michelle had what looked to be a very heavy, very old, elongated oval door mirror propped up by a chair at the left foot of the queen sized bed. It was framed in wood that was painted gold. I was told to never touch that mirror. Further back beyond the foot of the bed were the dresser and a large single piece mirror that hung above it on the wall. The walk in closet on the right side of the bed also had mirrors on its sliding doors. There were polished brass lighting fixtures placed around the room randomly. The polished brass would reflect the images in the mirrors. The brass would sometimes show the wrinkles in the bed sheets reflected from the mirrors in the likenesses of Austin Osman Spare paintings. Hideously misshapen creatures engaged in orgiastic revelries and struck fantastic poses. If you messed the sheets up the polished brass would reveal different images. Many of the images were clear enough to have taken photographs of although I never did. There was nothing ambiguous about them. Some of the reflections in the brass were as detailed as Spare’s paintings themselves.
      Up to a quarter of Michelle’s hair would at times rise straight up like something was gently lifting it. Sometimes a network of tiny blue sparks would appear in the hairs that were standing. Her hair would usually rise during intercourse particularly when she was on top facing and straddling me from a kneeling position. It usually occurred at night when we had ingested cocaine but not always. Whenever this phenomenon would occur Michelle exhibited praeterhuman intelligence. When it happened sexual sensations were amplified and my ejaculation increased. It was as if something was draining me, prolonging my orgasm. These manifestations would last for hours and Michelle would say personnel things about me that no other human would know. She talked about having met my father and being sent to me by him. Some of what she was saying was outright bullshit but much of it was true. She seemed to know every sexual fantasy I had ever had and she would talk about them in detail as she tried to reenact them in the bedroom. She did not know about Rosarium Philosophorum or any of the death and orgasm parts. Those seemed to be blocked from her and she knew she was missing information. She would become frustrated, frequently interrogating me while we were having sex. Sometimes she would get angry and conduct furious conversations to the mirrors complaining about having to be with me.
      She had little memory of any of this during the light of the day except if we were still having sex from the night before. If the orgasmic succession remained unbroken the phenomena could occur at anytime of the day or night. Sometimes I would try to trick her into revealing the origin and intention of the praeterhuman intelligence. She always maintained it was Lilith. When I tried to question her as to her childhood and her experiences with her mother her memories seemed jumbled and she was evasive. She talked about a staff engraved with some kind of letters that she said resembled Masonic ciphers that I had showed her from Manly Halls ‘Big Book.’ The staff made her mother very powerful within her coven. She also told me that when she was young she had been drowned to the point where she washed up on a Florida beach lifeless and had to be resuscitated by emergency personnel. After the incident her mother had become furious with her and beat her.
      One afternoon the sun was shining through the windows on a brilliant summer day but the room appeared to grow ten times brighter than it already was. Michelle scrambled over me and jumped out of bed on the left side. She had a panicked look in her face. With her palms upturned and her arms slightly extended in front of her toward the mirror on the floor she said “But I didn’t tell him anything!” The light in the room grew even brighter and she fell to the floor naked. Her eyes rolled back showing only the white. She began to froth at the mouth. I jumped out of the bed to help her. All the while the light grew blindingly bright. I was suddenly overcome with overwhelming fear.

      • Beklager, jeg er verken den sorte eller hvite Maria eller hennes dobbeltgjengere Fatima, ei heller Maria Magdalena, og boken om Joan eller Jean D’arc har jeg ennå ikke i mitt bibliotek som ikke er like svulmende som ditt. Men hvis du kaller meg for dum så vet jeg jo at det virkelig er du som snakker. Du hadde en flott designerdame med like flotte støtdempere. Er du heldig krysser du hennes vei igjen, ja, så hun kan bøye seg ned igjen foran deg og knipse ned andre sengeutjo som måtte konkurrere om plassen. Hun fikk ikke grått hår eller blått fordi du var for løs på avtrekkeren i din lengsel etter å ha full kontroll på senga? Uansett, nå har jeg jo hilst på henne via din beskrivelse, men hva heter moren til dama di med tre ansikter?

  2. Jack This was a report straight from the Animal Channel, LOL.

    Maybe you have found your second calling…haha.

    Like they say: it is never too late to turn the page.

    Anyway, it was interesting…and I get it…it is getting harder to concentrate on things that with every day lose more and more meaning and previous potency.

    Happy Ishtar to All

  3. Lol, well if I wasn’t friggen Mike Kay exactly who would I be?
    Personally, I love the Ishtar theme.
    Also, I friggen hate movies. I can’t waste my time watching louts misrepresent my history on the big screen. Now if someone else wants to watch jews pose in swastika shirts, please, go right ahead, but I literally have an endless list of things I’d rather attend to.
    My next piece doesn’t have any citations either.
    Hoping to wrap it up tomorrow.