Thursday, 31 May 2007

'Madeleine Cops Use Psychics...'

The Goddess of New York

Here at The Daily Behemoth (and its Big Sister) we are blessed with a small, but highly discerning audience of readers and co-explorers. This comes from one such soul, my good friend Michael of Seattle:

'Hi Ben, lovely update at BTB. Pulling pirates, clipper ships, goddesses, missing children and killer viruses together into some sort of meaning is a rather amazing feat. Even more amazing is that I find myself nodding along.

My favorite "goddess cube" is this one: The Fifth Ave Apple Store in NYC. A perfect cube, seemingly lit from within by the "pure white light", the bitten apple, the fruit of the tree of knowledge, Sophia, Wisdom, Reason, Cybele?. It is flanked by a fountain on either side, perhaps representing the goddess rising between two (former) towers. The cube leads to an underground space, and from this picture, it looks almost lit by an internal sun.

For some reason, I'm reminded of the film "Things to Come" by H. G. Wells.'

Thanks, Michael!

For more on 'Things to Come', another of the predictive-conspiracy 'fictions' in which we are presently taking an interest, click here.

And whilst we're on the subject of inspired contributions from readers, I'm just going to reproduce a little something from Brian, author of The Newspaceman. This was left as a comment to my recent article, Greenwich Layer Cake- and offers a plausible-sounding explanation for the Skull and Bones' veneration of the number 322.

'On 22/3/1312, 'the pope gave to the commission of cardinals for approval the bull to supress the Templars in Vox in excelso'. This was 'on the grounds of the general welfare of the Church and by Apostolic ordinance'.

He provides more numerlogical detail for this, including a reference to pi, but as a non-mathmatician I admit to finding even the simple mental arithmetic involved in numerology baffling. But for those with a left-brain bias, please do check out the comments page and see what you can decode.

There's more on 322 and the Order here.

Monday, 28 May 2007

Can you connect the dots?

Anybody else think this is rather a strange photograph?

Two other things to ponder as well. At 8am this morning, according to Sky News, some two hundred commercial radio stations in the UK simultaneously broadcast the Team McCann theme song: 'Don't You Forget About Me' by Simple Minds. (As if we could.) And now the Madeleine case is being highlighted to promote the microchip: right on cue. Click here

Some powerful energies are uniting around this story... Not satisfied with roping in the Beckhams and J K Rowling, now other super-celebrities with a point to prove have entered the ring. Gordon Brown is reported to have forged 'an instant connection' with fellow Scot Gerry McCann- which renders the latter highly suspect in my eyes- and now Prince Charles and even the Pope are involved too. Following the pilgrimage to Fatima on May 23, and a scheduled audience with Benedict XVI next wednesday, this is shaping up to be some of the best publicity the Vatican has received in years.

And, am I paranoid... Or is there something distinctly occult in the below? The Madeleine... and the Royal Arch?

Britney and Marilyn

An old story here, from May 9, which somehow- not being a regular Star reader- I managed to miss the first time round. I hope Freeman Fly is watching...

Britney to Duet with Marilyn

Thursday, 24 May 2007

Vox Populi

You didn't let me down. Here are a selection of the responses I received to my call for suggestions of conspiratorial fictions, in which parapolitical realities nestle uneasily amidst futurist absurdity. I have several suggestions of my own to follow, but for the time being let's turn the stagelights up and hand the mic to the drunken, semi-lunatic crowd... (You know I don't mean that.)

I hope to make this a regular feature, so should anything below provoke further rumination please let me know.

My good friend SB makes the following suggestion, which will be familar to readers of Icke's Tales from the Time Loop:

'I wonder if you have seen the movie Monsters Inc.? Its a Disney Pixar movie about a corporation called Monsters Inc. which scares children, extracting energy from them in order to power the monster's world...I think children's movies and literature are really pushing the theme of inter-dimensional bad guys who feed off our energies...'

And from the flamboyant pen of BTB regular Michael:

'This idea, the myth of underground denizens, from H. G. Wells, Edgar Rice Burroughs and on, it does have a certain creepy and even romantic fascination, I admit... Even the bible mentions them: "And every creature which is in heaven, and on the earth, and under the earth..." Rev 5:13.

'And lets not forget the Matrix, with it's underground "Zion".'

The tireless Todd Campbell, who has his own blog, Peering Through, breaks from the pack with 'an odd little sci-fi novel from 1898 called Edison's Conquest of Mars' (conceived as the sequel to 'War of the Worlds', apparently.) This, Todd reliably informs me, 'includes reptile-like Martians and a 40 foot tall woman from Ceres.'

He also offers the following, which I have not yet had time to look up myself- so if anyone would like to do so on my behalf and let me know what riches lie therein, feel free.

We will probe the further reaches of the postbag tomorrow...

Sunday, 20 May 2007

The Spray Guns of Brixton

Ah, sweet punk rock.
Joe Strummer... The Guns of Brixton.
The Future is Unwritten.
The blinding Julien Temple EP.
No tribal hierolgyph exerts so great a fascination
Than the punk's raw mohican: semiotic strata etched in its depths.
'You lookin' at me?'
(Scorcese says the soundtrack to Raging Bull was inspired by the music of The Clash: the sound of London at night.)
Travis Bickle, who burned as the reborn ISMAIL AX, sweeping the scum off the streets.

Like a half-buried folk memory,
a symbol of an ancestral world that refuses to go quietly.
When dance music declared the death of the Diggers and their Tolpuddle rant,
punk underwent its reformation;
and at Strummerville the two camps would fuse in symbolic fashion.
There too the same, ancient stream coursed just out of sight.

And why do I keep seeing Banksy placed before me?
The guerilla in epitome, making an object trouve of his environment. Anarchist and artist are almost the same.
The Glastonbury thorn that simmered at Strummerville, the obstructor Doherty and the Albion Rooms, Banksy's global wall:
united in spirit- an ancient cri de coeur.

Wednesday, 16 May 2007

Boy Wonder Returns...

An interesting little something caught my eye over at Red Ice Creations yesterday. This is the 'astonishing' discovery that the famous Glasgow Necropolis- so famous, in fact, that I had never actually heard of it prior to reading the linked article- is none other than a giant (37 acre) Masonic symbol. Apparently, the expert who has stumbled upon this electrifying revelation did so only after years of 'painstaking study' at Glasgow University; which is a shame because from the sound of things I could have saved him the blood, sweat and tears by simply stating what by all accounts appears to be the supremely obvious. 'Those entering the graveyard pass over a bridge, by an arch, through two pillars and up a hill, on a journey from west to east,' writes journalist David Leask of the Glasgow Herald, whilst 'the monument to Walter Macfarlane, Glasgow's Victorian king of cast iron, looks like a Royal Arch, the emblem of the fourth degree of Freemasonry.' Add to these the frequency of Egyptian-themed memorials, compasses and squares a-plenty, and the fact that 'all the main players in its planning were Freemasons'- and we might be forgiven for wondering why nobody clocked on sooner.

But perhaps such churlishness is unwarranted. Perhaps the jammy researcher was merely the serendipitious recipient of a vision that could barely have been intuited much more than a decade or so ago, except by the eye of an initiate. After all, there has probably never been such attention focused on Freemasonry- its origins and off-shoots- as today: not even in the age of Captain Morgan and the Anti-Masonry Party. By dint of which, what was once obscure and arcane seems now rather obvious; as the combined efforts of an army of dedicated researchers starts to impact mainstream perception.

But whilst we could spiel almost endlessly on this subject, what piqued my interest and provoked me into returning to my keyboard was the following scintillating factoid, embedded towards the end of the piece: 

'The cemetery features prominently in Alasdair Gray's 1981 novel Lanark. The eponymous hero of the book is swallowed by a huge mouth which opens in the ground of the city graveyard and leads him into the hellish subterranean world of the Institute, where the population lives on human flesh.'

Cursory Wiki-research suggests this to be a most fascinating book, details of which I have neglected to peer into too deeply because I intend to read it. But the brief synopsis above should suffice to prick us, as it closely resembles the reptilian meta-narratives proffered by David Icke and others as an accurate guide to reality. In developing these ideas Icke has repeatedly indicated that science 'fiction' (or its sister-genre, fantasy) has oftimes been the mouthpiece for truths considered too shocking to be conveyed in other media. Long have I felt this aspect of Icke's research to be one of the most fascinating; and have often toyed with the idea of compiling a definitive resource wherein all such fictions can be logged. (A project I hereby inaugurate.) Any assistance with what might end up being a Herculean labour would be greatly appreciated. What I am looking for are examples of those 'fictions' in which consciously or otherwise the conspiratorial meme is evoked, in particular anything resembling the reptilian thesis.

We have already considered the example of the Hellraiser series: which I alluded in my Rosslyn article, before the baton was seized by Jake Kotze for his excellent Cuboid Stargate video. Judging from the thumbnail account of Lanark given above, it would seem that Alisdair Gray's imagination inhabits a not dissimilar sphere to Clive Barker's lunatic muse. Both works depict imaginative realms, one subterranean, the other inter-dimensional, inhabited by monstrous denizens who cannibalise human flesh. The fact that Alisdair Gray makes Glasgow Necropolis the gateway to his subterranean hell throws up the tantalising possibility that he was drawing a thinly-veiled comparison between the activities of the subterranean Institute with those of Freemasonry. Such criticism is also- in my opinion- implicit in the Hellraiser series, not least because the murderous Cenobites, as Barker christens his protagonists, spend a large part of their time worshipping a giant rotating obelisk... And we know about that particular symbol, and its ubiquity in certain fraternities.(1)

These are many other examples we could mention. Icke has himself made mention of 'The Coming Race' by Edward Bulwer-Lytton; and it is surely the result of its new found cache with the NEXUS crowd that the book has recently been reprinted. Also admired by Icke is the John Carpenter film They Live and the popular TV series V. Sociologist Michael Barkun examines popular comic book scenarios of the 1940s and 50s for the origins of the reptilian virus: in particular The Shaver Mystery, printed in the science fiction magazine Amazing Stories. In that case the subterranean beings- whilst not explicity reptilian- betray many of the antisocial behaviours we now associate with them: sexual violence featuring prominently, and the generic desire to rule the world.

Also claimed as an accurate guide to the multi-dimensional universe, and the infiltration of our reality by malevolent forces, is the Dagon mythos of H.P Lovecraft. This, in turn, inspired the publication of the Simon Necronomicon by Avon, the same publishing arm which put out Anton La Vey's The Satanic Bible to considerable effect. Very interesting is the fact that, since its publication, the Necronomicon has (in some quarters) been invested with a gravity that belies its youth, and the various incantations and invocations to 'The Dark Ones' contained therein have been the entry point for hundreds of thousands of metalheads into the mysterious world of the occult. Whilst we might sneer at their credulity, we acknowledge the creative power involved in such a collective working. Whether the Necronomicon concept was an ingenious invention of Lovecraft, or a genuinely ancient document, the 'Simon Necronomicon' is undeniably a modern invention; and does not even manage a particularly successful synthesis of the Cthulu legend. Nonetheless, we write it off as a mere hoax at our own cost, because regardless of its origins the reptilian gods it evokes are real. Whether they existed beforehand is a moot point, but they certainly do now: the book's popularity has created them.

There are hundreds of similar examples in which fiction has come to assume the status of fact (and who am I to argue with that attribution?) I will be logging all such examples I fall across in the pages of this blog; but should anybody reading this care to contribute to the project, please contact me at the following address:

Thank you!

1: The name given this obelisk is Leviathan: a word which immediately evokes Thomas Hobbes and his philosophical work of the same name. This highly influential tract, written in 1651, argues that only a social contract and the rule of an absolute sovereign can avert the anarchy of 'all against all': the pessimistic state of nature in Hobbes' political philosophy. As such, wrongly, the book has occasionally been identified (by conspiracists with literary inclinations) as an early blueprint for the New World Order. The famous frontispiece, an engraving by Abraham Bosse, perfectly illustrates his ideology: as the once and future King- the machinery of the super-state- emerges from the collectivised minds of the masses.

Interestingly, this is the same image that Alisdair Gray- an artist as well as a writer- bases the frontispiece for the fourth book of his own Lanark upon. In this case, the figure protrudes from a landscape which looks as though it was modelled upon the Glasgow Necropolis.

Saturday, 5 May 2007

Lady in red brings abrupt end to US-Iran gala dinner date...

From today's Independent:

'It was billed as a chance for rapprochement between two countries - Iran and the United States - which have been estranged for almost three decades.

The distinguished guests had gathered for a beachside gala dinner on Thursday evening in the Egyptian Red Sea resort of Sharm el-Sheikh. Such events are where the real business of diplomacy is often done - in this case on the sidelines of a conference on Iraq attended by foreign ministers of 50 countries.

The hosts had put on a feast of langoustine and beef, served with wine at the Sheraton hotel. A violinist was playing background music from the stage. Enter the Iranian Foreign Minister, Manouchehr Mottaki. The first thing he noticed was that he had been seated at the same table as the American Secretary of State, Condoleezza Rice. Opposite her, in fact.

He then noticed the violinist, who was dressed in a long red evening dress and wrapped in a stole. Moments later - before Ms Rice arrived - he flounced out.

Was it because of the "scantily clad" violinist in the sleeveless red dress, as the Iranians are said to have complained?

Was it because of the seating plan, after the Iranians had made it clear that the Foreign Minister was not ready to talk to the head of the American delegation? Or was it the alcohol on the table?

The incident left other guests at Ms Rice's table, including the British Foreign Secretary, Margaret Beckett, bemused.

"I don't know which woman he was afraid of, the woman in the red dress or the Secretary of State," State Department spokesman Sean McCormack said wryly yesterday.'

For the complete story, go to:

The Scarlet Petal

You know my thoughts on the matter. Certain individuals with an unconscious affinity for the archetypal world of symbol. I call these the bloodline.

The Mirror described the flowers as orange, whilst in The Mail they were red. But according to The Star- in the paper edition, at any rate- scarlet was the colour. Later, for the online edition, this was mysteriously changed to red.

Goddess. Breasts. Flowers. Scarlet.

Anyone care to comment?

Thursday, 3 May 2007


Down in Albion
They’re black and blue
But we don’t talk about that
Are you from round here?
How do you do?
I’d like to talk about that

Talk over
Gin in teacups
And leaves on the lawn
Violence at bus stops
And a pale thin girl with eyes forlorn

Gin in teacups
And leaves on the lawn
Violence in dole queues
And the pale thin girl behind the checkout

If you're looking for a cheap sort
Set in false anticipation,
I'll be waiting in the photo booth
At the underground station
So come away, wont you come away
We can go to
Deptford, Catford, Watford, Digbeth, Tuebrook
Anywhere in Albion

Yellowing classics
And canons at dawn
Coffee wallahs and pith helmets
And an English song
Oh Reebok classics
And canons at dawn
Terrible warlords, good warlords
and an English song

But if you're looking for a cheap tart
All glint with perspiration
There's a four mile queue
Outside the disused power station

Now come away, won't you come away
We'll go to
Satsworth, Senford, Weovil, Woomoyle, Newcastle
Anywhere in Albion
Anywhere in Albion
Anywhere in Albion
Anywhere in Albion...

Wednesday, 2 May 2007

The Chelsea Blues...

Something else which caught my eye today was the sad death of Philip Carter, honorary vice-president of Chelsea Football Club in circumstances which strangely mirrored the demise of the former vice-chairman Matthew Harding eleven years ago. Both men died in helicopter crashes after having watched their team play (and lose) important cup ties. Both men were flying Twin Squirrel helicopters; and in both cases, the pilot and three male passengers were also killed. To top it all off, Philip Carter and Matthew Harding had known each other and had, in fact, been good friends.

Now this would merely be a tragic case of lightning appearing to strike twice were it not for the addition of one other detail which, with all due caution, I now submit for your attention. There is a persistent urban legend concerning Chelsea FC, which attributes to a certain very notorious gentleman the dual achievement of aligning the club's famous ground, Stamford Bridge, and designing the team's strip and colours.

A gentleman by no means unacquainted with the web of wyrd, nor with the strange (and occasionally) terrible synchronicities which seem to bedevil the paths of magicians, and swirl around their haunts for generations.

Now guess who that certain gentleman might be..?

For more on the Chelsea legend, see,,1257166,00.html

For more on the death of Philip Carter, see