FR
You know the Queen of Hearts
"Desperado", Eagles (1973)
Is always your best bet
We have now reached the final chapter in our exploration of the matrix loop — a journey that is, of course, far from exhaustive. With the Archons' favourite celebration just ten days away, we are invited to slow down, truly listen, and protect our energy by setting healthy boundaries. This is, essentially, the message delivered this month by the Queen of Hearts — an archetype of feminine intuition and embodiment of creative energy.
Sense and Sensibility
As you probably know, each face card in French card decks has a unique name inscribed in its corner, the origin and meaning of which, according to Wikipedia, are ‘uncertain’. The Queen of Hearts is therefore called Judith, probably in reference to the eponymous biblical figure who went to the enemy camp of Israel to seduce and behead the general of their armies, and bring back his head as a trophy.
It’s a far cry from the kindness and compassion this card is meant to embody — yet a perfect match for the Red Queen in Alice in Wonderland (named Iracebeth in Tim Burton's film adaptation) — a hysterical, castrating figure whose leitmotiv is, precisely, to chop off heads.
The Queen had only one way of settling all difficulties, great or small. 'Off with his head!' she said, without even looking round.
Alice in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll (1869)
Certainly, the Queen of Hearts' reasons defy her own reason itself. Her untimely cries of ‘Off with their head!’ come straight from an untamed heart (soul) disconnected from its knight (spirit), solely responding to the emotional prompting of the matrix without discernment, and ultimately losing her head in the truest sense of the word. She thus becomes a tyrannical hag, a cruel and inverted caricature of the Sophianic feminine principle so hated by her pseudo-creator.
The Red and the Black
Passion Red versus Rational Black: in the Grand Demiurgic Game, these two colours interact as positive versus negative polarities. The colour red represents emotions (loosh), but above all blood (memories). The colour black stands for death and the absence of light (information) — in other words, the disconnection from the Spirit.
In astrology, red is associated with Mars (momentum, impulse) and black with Saturn (restraint, inertia). In cartomancy and tarot readings, red suits represent emotional (water/hearts/cups) and material (earth/diamonds/pentacles) density, while black suits embody mental (air/spades/swords) and spiritual (fire/clubs/wands) planes, illusions of power and elevation.
The fake alchemy of the matrix is designed to make us believe these two poles are well balanced. Whereas, in reality, they are being pitted against each other: emotions versus reason, matter versus spirit, heart versus head. And in the midst of this colourful duel is the heart — both the stake, the instrument, and the battlefield.
Heartsnatcher
Behind its luminous facade, the heart is one of the most ambivalent symbols in the matrix. It embodies warmth, life and compassion — and is also the primary conduit for the emotional currents that fuel the system. The heart is an interface: a centre of resonance, memory and manipulation.
We were taught to idealise it, to make it the throne of our virtues, the seat of the soul or the gateway to the divine. But this imagery conceals a much more subtle mechanism of capture. For everything that moves or disturbs us, everything that stirs the ‘heart’ sends out an emotional wave — and that wave can be harvested.
Once I had a love and it was divine
"Heart of Glass", Blondie (1978)
Soon found out I was losing my mind
It seemed like the real thing but I was so blind
Behind its most religious representations — a flaming heart, pierced or crowned with thorns — lies the same process of enslavement: subjugating humans through emotion, convincing them that suffering for love is noble, then extracting energy from their devotion and willing sacrifice.
Thus, the exhortation to ‘open one's heart’ is not innocent. In an inverted world, such invitations become protocols for energetic consent: opening one's heart (soul, memory) also means opening the door to everything that wishes to infiltrate it. Entities from the astral plane (or their human relays) can do nothing without this tacit consent. Their strategy of predation relies on seduction, pity, compassion: all emotions originating from the heart, and which they know so well how to mimic.
Under the guise of benevolence, modern spirituality perpetuates this blissful openness: it deludes people into believing in an expansion of consciousness, when in fact it is merely a dissolution of discernment. The heart, then, no longer serves as a seat of life, but rather as a point of access.
The real trick is not to open up, but to create the conditions for mutual respect — the kind that recognises without enslaving, that perceives without allowing itself to be drained.
Castle in the Air
The heart cracks, the mirror shatters: illusions are reflected in the stained glass windows of the matrix castle. The promise of kingdoms — external, magnificent — has always been used to distract us from the only throne that matters: that of embodied consciousness. Every tale, every legend, every dream of a crown rests upon the same spell: to make us believe that sovereignty is to be conquered externally, when in fact it can only be found within.
I'm only a crack in this castle of glass
"Castle of Glass", Linkin Park (2012)
Hardly anything else I need to be
Fairy tales are not just stories for children: they are manuals for reverse enchantment. They teach us that sovereignty is to be gained through love, suffering or virtue, that one must ‘earn one's crown’ through a series of initiation tests that always follow the same pattern: denying self for recognition by others. All of these are subjugation programmes subtly cloaked in morality.
The castle, symbol of security and accomplishment, is often nothing more than a fortress of glass — a spiritual ego masquerading as an inner kingdom. Its ramparts are not guarded by peace but fear: fear of losing, fear of being alone, fear of being nothing without the reflections of the world. The Red Queen still reigns, under more modern guises: influence, validation, reputation. We continue to sacrifice our heads for an illusory throne.
Meanwhile fairies give out their conditional blessings: beauty, talent, charisma, intuition, fame. But in fairy tales as in the matrix, nothing is offered without something in return. Every ‘gift’ calls for a debt. The supposed white light magic often amounts to nothing more than a covert energy pact, an invisible chain tacitly signed.
The Return of the King
True sovereignty can neither be conquered nor received. It’s found in the silence before every choice, in the lucidity that cuts through false pacts, in the verticality that renders any external authority obsolete. To be sovereign is not to rule over others, but to stop serving any alien kingdom.
I am sovereign,
"Âme mnésique", la Pensine Mutine (2025)
Breaking my chains
Away from the Matrix
And its fake world
Sovereignty is neither a title nor a crown: it is a state of quiet lucidity, that of a heart reconciled with the spirit, which no longer needs to be open in order to radiate.
When the heart regains its natural authority, the game collapses on its own. Ultimately, the final task is no task at all — it’s simply a return to self.
© La Pensine Mutine. All rights reserved. Reproduction prohibited.
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