The Tell-Tale Heart

You know the Queen of Hearts
Is always your best bet

"Desperado", Eagles (1973)

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.

© Cristofano Allori

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
Soon found out I was losing my mind
It seemed like the real thing but I was so blind

"Heart of Glass", Blondie (1978)

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
Hardly anything else I need to be

"Castle of Glass", Linkin Park (2012)

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,
Breaking my chains
Away from the Matrix
And its fake world

"Âme mnésique", la Pensine Mutine (2025)

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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Witch Hunt

The righteous rise with burning eyes
Of hatred and ill-will
Madmen fed on fear and lies
To beat and burn and kill

"Witch Hunt", Rush (1981)

It's pumpkin season again! What was once turnip season is now only used to refer to bad scripts and cowards in French. Like the 10 of Spades or its tarot card equivalent, showing a character lying face down on the ground, with ten swords stabbed into his back, October is a dark month, often filled with a sense of dread and foreboding. Known in occult circles as Red October, the month of harvest, bloodshed, stagnation and loss of control, ends with masquerades where people pretend to scare each other by dressing up as monsters, ghosts or witches in order to be on the safe side. But number 10 is also a symbol of transition, like a bridge between two worlds, since death, in the true sense, is nothing more than a transfer from one state to another. Furthermore, in the Lenormand Oracle, the 10 of Spades is paired with a ship sailing away towards unknown shores — a possible reference to Charon's boat?¹

Burn the Witch

The myth surrounding witches reflects the abysmal depths of human ignorance, the hypocrisy of religions, and the psychopathic entities they worship. As French historian Michel Pastoureau wrote, “witches are not a phenomenon of the Middle Ages but of the modern era.” Indeed, hatred towards the feminine principle is nothing new, but now seems to be reaching new heights. Simply consider the increasingly violent abuse of transgender propaganda, or extreme religious obscurantism, attempting to impose their rules and views in Western civilisations.

Contrary to popular belief, it was not during the Middle Ages that the greatest number of crimes against ‘witches’ were committed, but during the Renaissance. The women considered as such were generally from the working class and most were healers, midwives or herbalists, holding ancestral know-how that competed with the humanist creed based on science and knowledge (rather than knowing). Their practice was therefore labelled “magical” in order to justify witch hunts.

‘Witches’ posed no threat to men as individuals, but rather to the archontic system, which used institutions (the Church, the justice system, official medicine) to eliminate anything that would slip beyond its control.

They were thus blamed for knowing too much, much more than the established institutions themselves. Their knowledge of lunar cycles and natural correspondences also allowed them to break free from imposed patterns and touch upon the very structure of ‘life’. That's why they were accused of transforming or metamorphosing others, a distorted reflection of their vibratory ability to dissolve existing moulds and what the matrix wants to crystallise — in other words, they showed that matter is energy and that all energy is malleable.

That sly come-hither stare
That strips my conscience bare
It's witchcraft
And I've got no defense for it
The heat is too intense for it
What good would common sense for it do?

"Witchcraft", Frank Sinatra (1957)

A far cry from the archetypal ugly old woman with a wart on her nose, ‘witches’ were guilty of being independent and arousing desire in men. This is certainly the greatest untold truth, as it still pervades certain religions. Many witch trials were, in fact, fuelled by shameful male fantasies. As men were unable to control their urges, the blame was put on women as ‘temptresses’ or ‘friends of the Devil’. Weakness always seeks to blame, and the cognitive dissonance was too overwhelming for the so-called ‘stronger’ sex. To the benefit of the clique of the archons who manipulate human emotions.

Last but not least, as archetypes of the rebellious feminine principle (like Lilith, Adam's first wife, accused of tempting Eve in the guise of a serpent), witches served as a reminder that incarnation in the flesh cannot occur without this fundamental principle. In a world ruled by a jealous patriarchal god, such power is intolerable for it cannot be subdued.

Spells and Charms

And that's where the trap closes in: everything beyond institutional control was rebranded as ‘magic’. But what is magic, if not the soul in action?² A force that manipulates forms, but without any connection to the spirit. However, a soul acting without its spirit always ends up creating its own shackles, as what it attracts through ignorance, it will sooner or later have to pay for.

The word sorceress (sorcière, as used in French) comes from the Latin sortiarius, ‘spell caster’, derived from sors, meaning 'fate' or 'destiny'. Magic is therefore a coded energy and a spell is an expressed intention that can be instantly broken by a supramental frequency (hence the importance of always vibrating at a high frequency). Non-consent will produce a boomerang effect that will not only render any act of magic ineffective, but this energy will have to find a target, and it will be those who emitted it who will suffer the consequences. The spell will thus rebound upon its authors with triple intensity.

Cover up in shade
Fly fast through the airwaves
Meet with pride and truth
Danger is great joy
Dark is bright as fire

"Witches' Song", Marianne Faithfull (1979)

It's worth noting that magic, whether black or white, remains the same, since it is once again a matter of swapping polarities. Polarisation is, moreover, a pernicious trap that must be overcome at all costs. Thus, praying for others is a form of magic, regardless of how noble the intention may be. Hence the well-known but misunderstood saying: “the road to hell is paved with good intentions”.   

Furthermore, sort, the French³ for 'spell', is the same as sortir in the third person, which in this context means 'to step out'. A witch or sorceress is someone who breaks out of moulds and shatters boundaries. In its intransitive form, they stand out from the crowd, from the norm, and the matrix loops; in its transitive form, they expose what's hidden: knowledge, secrets, and invisible forces.

Treats or Tricks

But ‘taking out’ may also mean ‘unwrapping’. The matrix enjoys treating us to its glittering wrappers, promising solace and comfort. And as with Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans, every bite is a gamble: 

“You want to be careful with those,” Ron warned Harry. “When they say every flavour, they mean every flavour — you know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and peppermint and marmalade, but then you can get spinach and liver and tripe. George reckons he had a booger-flavoured one once.”

Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, J.K. Rowling (1997)

That's the image of the Matrix: attractive packaging, but unpredictable taste — and more often disgusting than delicious.

And when it comes to booby-trapped treats, narcissists are true master candy-makers. On the outside, they come wrapped in shiny, colourful paper. But inside, it's not chocolate: it's all recycled and repackaged digestive waste. One might think the smell would eventually give away the packaging, but unfortunately, they always manage to convince those around them that it is not them who smell bad, but their victim, whom they torment to breaking point.

These human wrapped candies are not just dysfunctional individuals: they often serve as relays for archons. Their role is to trigger an emotional reaction in the other person and then reverse roles. They provoke, harass and manipulate until the victim breaks down. Then they point the finger: ‘See, HE (or SHE) is the monster.’ And as long as no one dares to unwrap the foil, the ploy continues.

As Above, So Below

From human wrapped candy to the treats of the archons, the basic idea is the same: as practitioners of black magic and trickery, the 'mighty' of this world always wrap their poison in the shiny paper of ‘progress’, 'morality' or ‘inclusivity’. The treats may change, but the bitter taste of political correctness remains as foul as what is humanly abject.

These ruling elites, who act as willing agents of the matrix, occupy positions of power in order to better reverse situations: hypnotising the masses, projecting their guilt onto those who escape their control, and naming the culprits to be burned — yesterday at the stake, today through cancel culture and political or media purges.

And make no mistake about it: witch hunts are not some distant memory from the Dark Ages. In Africa (and other parts of the world), women and children are still being tortured and killed on the pretext of witchcraft, as reported by Amnesty International⁴.

When I look out my window
Many sights to see
And when I look in my window
So many different people to be
That is strange, so strange
You've got to pick up every stitch
Must be the season of the witch

"Season of the Witch", Donovan (1966)

The archons are forever recycling the same scenarios, not so that the trapped souls may learn — what's the point when memories are being erased and manipulated? — but to sustain the cycle which feeds them.

Endnotes

1. ^  In Greek mythology, Charon or Kharon is a psychopomp, the ferryman of the Greek underworld. He carries the souls of those who have been given funeral rites across the rivers Acheron and Styx, which separate the worlds of the living and the dead. In some burials, low-value coins known generically as Charon's obols were placed in, on, or near the mouth of the deceased, as a viaticum for the soul's journey. The dead who could not pay the fee, and those who had received no funeral rites, had to wander the near shores of the Styx for one hundred years before they were allowed to cross the river.
2. ^  In French, 'la magie' (magic) sounds exactly like 'l'âme agit' (the soul acts). As explained in a note below, due to its specific vibration French is the preferred language used by occult societies. Therefore, even if, in this particular instance, the language of birds doesn't work in your language, it still has the same vibratory impact in all the fractal layers of the matrix simulation.
3. ^ Each language has a specific frequency that goes far beyond words. French ranks among the initiatory languages. Historically, it was and still is used in high occult lodges, particularly because of its rich and precise structure, which allows for complex codification of ideas and rituals.  
4. ^ Accused of being a witch, 90-year-old Akua Denteh was lynched and beaten to death in the streets of Mempeasem in July 2020. In some parts of Africa, witches are feared and hunted down. According to Amnesty International in Gambia, several hundred people have been arrested and detained. These people are tortured and forced to drink a hallucinogenic drink, compelling them to confess to witchcraft. 

© La Pensine Mutine. All rights reserved. Reproduction prohibited.

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Glory Days

I had a friend, was a big baseball player
Back in high school
He could throw that speedball by you
Make you look like a fool, boy.

"Glory Days", Bruce Springsteen (1982)

For the sake of carbon footprint concerns, I'm staying in the land of Uncle Charley (my late great-uncle), swapping my Colt and cowgirl hat for a baseball bat and cap, and off I hit the plate, ready to attempt my home run. A daunting challenge, I admit, but that is precisely what is suggested by the 7 of Diamonds this month — on par with the diamond-shaped field and seven defenders (in addition to the pitcher and catcher) of the opposing team. This card invites us to take a step back and look beyond appearances. Sometimes, what may be considered an issue is actually a blessing in disguise. What if it were an opportunity to make a quantum leap?

The Aces of Base

Well-established in the American landscape for nearly two centuries, baseball is more than just a sport: it is an institution deeply rooted in the culture and history of the country. It is even the Americans' favourite pastime, a tradition passed down from generation to generation. Although, since the 1960s, (American) football has largely taken the lead in the running for the symbolic title of national sport.

For my part, I must admit that my experience lies solely in reading Stephen King's  The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon, where a kid lost in the woods copes with all the terrors that come her way by listening to baseball games on her Walkman (the ancestor of MP3 players). Or that iconic scene from the Twilight movie with Muse's "Supermassive Blackhole" playing in the background, where the vampires play baseball in the midst of a storm.

Another peal of thunder began. Esme stopped then; apparently, we'd reached the edge of the field. It looked as if they had formed teams. Edward was far out in left field, Carlisle stood between the first and second bases, and Alice held the ball, positioned on the spot that must be the pitcher's mound.
  Emmett was swinging an aluminum bat; it whistled almost untraceably through the air.
  I waited for him to approach home plate, but then I realized, as he took his stance, that he was already there — farther from the pitcher's mound than I would have thought possible.
  Jasper stood several feet behind him, catching for the other team. Of course, none of them had gloves.
  All right," Esme called in a clear voice, which I knew even Edward would hear, as far out as he was. "Batter up."
  Alice stood straight, deceptively motionless. Her style seemed to be stealth rather than an intimidating windup. She held the ball in both hands at her waist, and then, like the strike of a cobra, her right hand flicked out and the ball smacked into Jasper's hand.
  "Was that a strike?" I whispered to Esme.
  "If they don't hit it, it's a strike," she told me.

Twilight, Stephenie Meyer (2005)

So I did some research to grasp of the basics, which are way more complicated than what Americans call soccer (football in Europe). Do football rules elude you? Wait till I introduce you to baseball rules!

The Four-Corner Game

Two teams of nine players compete against each other. One team attacks (sending one of its players to bat), while the other defends (throwing the ball and trying to eliminate the batters).

The pitcher (defender) throws a ball. The batter (attacker) tries to intercept it by hitting it with a bat. 

If he succeeds, he runs to the first base, then the next ones, hoping to return to his starting point — called home plate — to score a point. Meanwhile, the defending team tries to retrieve the ball and get him out by throwing it to a base ahead of him or touching him with it.

The batters take turns one by one, in a fixed order. But as soon as three batters in a row are out, it is the defenders' turn to attack. They switch roles.

Each player keeps their position: the pitcher stays pitcher, the catcher stays catcher. But everyone takes turns batting when their team is on offence.

Baseball is ninety percent mental and the other half is physical.

Yogi Berra, former professional baseball catcher

The battle between the pitcher and the batter is a key moment in every game, where strategy, skill and psychology combine. The design of the mound on which the pitcher stands is also crucial in this one-on-one situation, influencing the game and providing viewers with great thrills.

The pitcher is the cornerstone of any top-level baseball team. Their ability to surprise and eliminate opposing batters is what may lead their team to victory. Pitchers need to assess each batter and choose which pitches to use based on their opponent's strengths and weaknesses.

The Tick-Tock Tactic

A game is usually composed of nine innings, each consisting of two phases: one where a team is batting and one where it is fielding. If the scores are tied at the end (only the number of points or runs scored is counted, not the number of innings won), extra innings are played until one team takes the lead.

Baseball has no game clock. Innings define the pace, following a logical sequence of repeated cycles. Each team plays, waits, then plays again. Over and over again. There is no 'official' pace of play, just innings to be played. Occasionally, some games may seem to last forever, exceeding 4 hours in duration. Meanwhile cricket games – the British bat-and-ball sport baseball originated from – may extend over several consecutive days in a liturgy of suspended time.

But all this comes at a cost. Ultimate tempo masters, pitchers are subjected to extreme physical strain affecting their arms, shoulders to such extent it may take them several days to recover after a single game. Players may grow exhausted, but the loop goes on.

Foul Role Play

Up along the clouds where the eagles roam,
Joe cracked that ball to whine and moan.
His buddies all laugh as they trot on in:
Joe DiMaggio's done it again."

Joe DiMaggio Done it Again", Billy Bragg (1999) 

The field is called ‘the diamond’, but it is just a 2D projection of the Matrix cube, viewed from a certain angle and run around, one pillar (base) at a time, counter-clockwise. Even when you hit a home run, you're back to square one, the home plate. You may feel like you're making progress, whereas you're merely completing another lap around your cage. 

And all the while, the bat keeps swinging and the field keeps wearing you out. The bat is wielded as an instrument of power, a striking force, and a symbol of decision. But on closer inspection, it was primarily designed to strike within the framework, not to break away from it. It is reminiscent of the stick used to break piñatas open and release the treats. And in traditional puppet shows, it is always the same ‘villain’ who gets beaten with a truncheon.

With each turn, roles are switched: one day you pitch, the next you strike. Always on the same matrix field. Same odd field. Same old scenarios. Panem et circenses. Bread and games. Another variant of the chessboard squares. The Matrix continues to alter, recycle, and recombine, but it never creates. It requires our input to do so.

To paraphrase now-defunct French rock band Téléphone, I'd say that we play our lives just like we play baseball. We win and lose, always hoping to score just one more round before the loop resets. Sometimes, you hold the grip then have to throw the bat away after one hit. Sometimes, you lose your grip and it might even cost you an arm and a leg. Oops!

Bats of Burden

Revolutions happen when baseball bats and golf clubs change hands. The exact dates and litres of blood spilled are matters for historians to argue about.

Anonymous

In the sporting world, same as in the world of the Demiurge, there is this basic idea of hitting that keeps coming back: we hit the ball, we hit the road, we hit records. We beat the band, we beat the odds, we beat time... in excess.

We're also very much on the receiving end of these violent phrases – especially in the French language. Violence – with all the suffering and loosh it creates – appears to be a key part of this predatory world. Even the party is going full swing, as if joy, too, had to pass through the rhythmic prongs of a well-oiled system. And when it gets too obvious, the cards are reshuffled. But the game remains the same.

All cards are marked,
All fates will collide.

"Where Were You Hiding When the Storm Broke?", The Alarm (1983)

The fact is, language knows, even if we no longer listen to it. We are bombarded with the same old stuff, we are led down the same old paths, and meanwhile, we carry the burden... where it hurts.

For there is always something to endure. A burden, a rule, a cycle. Some ground to gain, some base to reach. Again. And again. 

And when you think you've scored a point... the cycle begins again.

© La Pensine Mutine. All rights reserved. Reproduction prohibited.

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Welcome to the Circus!

Circus is a reflection of society, with its three main characters: the White Clown, Auguste, and the Ringmaster, namely the president, the people and the police.

Alexis Grüss

Crystal ball, gumballs, clown nose... these monthly challenges are going to make me lose my marbles! So we're back to the fairground world with a 3 of Diamonds warning us against distractions deviating us from our targets. All the trivia diverting our attention and bringing chaos in our lives. Interestingly, some old card reading schools would remove the accursed card from the deck to avoid ”introducing deception in the reading”, while others have given it another meaning: one of silence. “In a world constantly filled with noise and where we always want to extract the most meaning and experience out of everything it is sometimes worthwhile to pull back and be silent.”

What the Hell Is This?

Deriving from Latin word circus, which is the romanisation of the Greek kirkos, meaning ‘circle’ or ‘ring’, the first circus games were allegedly staged by Circe in honour of her father Helios, the Sun God, and later popularised by the Romans. During the Middle Ages, as large circus buildings had fallen out of use, itinerant performers, animal trainers, and showmen would travel between towns throughout Europe, pioneering the circus as we know it today.

But what kind of circus are we talking about? The traditional circus featuring acrobats, tightrope walkers, jugglers, horse trainers, lion tamers, clowns, magicians, and the like? Or is it the political media circus, shown over and over again on all TV channels, bucking us for big bucks? Oh, well, it's all the same anyway.

Slogans, war paint
What a great carnival
A perfect world
Look at the world
It's a great carnival

"Un Grand Carnaval", Indochine (1987)

What about the acrobatics of financial wizards juggling with figures? Or rogue riders horsing around? Or crowd tamers and fire-eaters, all in this to the neck and working for the Bearded Lady and her unbalanced Rigmaster — the latter performing ever more perilous high-wire acts, with the tail of his coat between his legs and his top hat at rock bottom? What about straight-faced TV clowns, with their nose on red alert after one line too many that blew up the mule? Who's fault is it that all hell breaks loose?

Not My Circus, Not My Monkeys

So what is this matrix circus? Controlled chaos providing continual distraction in order to hijack humanity's focus on spirit? An orchestrated illusion meant to hold dormant awareness into a false sense of reality? Or a hall of manipulation, where all actors (politicians, journalists, spiritualists, etc.) play a role designed to help direct the energy of the people towards preset patterns?

I must confess that, ever since I was a child, I have always hated circus, for some reason I couldn't explain. But today, I can.

Circus shows are repetitive, endless cycles re-enacted in a variety of ways, but following the same structure. This ties in with the cyclical nature of the matrix, maintaining an illusion of change, whereas in reality, souls are trapped in a recurring programme in which history keeps repeating itself over and over again.

The big top is an enclosed space, decorated so as to create an illusion of spaciousness, when it's actually limited. A bubble cut off from reality, just like the matrix, which prevents us from seeing universal circuits. An artificial world distracting us from taking a look beyond. A temporary setting that looks real for as long as you're in it, but vanishes as soon as you step outside (in the same way that reconnecting with your spirit shatters illusions).

Before the eyes of the sleeping masses — passive souls taking in whatever is thrown at them, never seeking to grasp its true nature, but applauding or booing at the whim of the ringmaster —, jugglers, acrobats and high-wire performers all try to keep their balance on the tight rope between electric pulses from their spirit and astral magnitudes, at the risk of falling into the recycling nets of the matrix. These people won't let boos, applause, drum rolls or spotlights distract them anymore. They know how to jump from track to track, like virtuoso DJ's.

Archontic tamers use coercive methods to control incarnated souls (fear, reward/punishment, repetitive training) and the latter obey without ever understanding the true purpose of their conditioning. At the end of their performance (incarnation), they are returned to their astral cage (death) until the next show in a continuous loop.

Squeezed in a costume with Masonic colours and Mad Hatter (or magician) top hat, the ringmaster stages the show, sets the rules, and imposes roles behind the scenes. The demiurge fully corresponds to this manipulative figure running the matrix and showing up only in indirect forms (religions, messianic figures, karmic laws). Ringmaster... Lord of the Rings, how uncanny.

Send in the Clowns

What about clowns? Just like human avatars under the influence of astral entities, they're entertainers, yet their laughter often covers up deep sadness. They are being ridiculed for wearing (social) masks and playing absurd roles, but do not understand why they have to.

My makeup is dry and it clags on my chin
I'm drowning my sorrows in whisky and gin
The lion tamer's whip doesn't crack anymore
The lions they won't fight and the tigers won't roar
So let's go and drink to the death of a clown
Won't someone help me to break up this crown?

"Death of a Clown", The Kinks (1967)

The earliest documented clowns have been found in Ancient Egypt and also in Greek and Roman theatre, prior to developing into court jesters in the Middle Ages. Originally a comic character, over time, the clown archetype has been progressively diverted to the sad clown figure (quite reminiscent of the Pierrot character) and later, to the scary (or evil) clown, giving rise to coultrophobia.

Although a number of theories suggest that the fear of clowns is directly linked to their face painting, some also point to the similarities between clown apparitions and the cultural representations of demons. In addition, Steven Schlozman, a psychiatrist at prestigious Harvard Medical School, explains how the medieval jester might contribute to this modern vision of the scary clown: “In the Middle Ages, clowns would pay dearly for failing to make the king laugh. Many jesters had their face mutilated into a permanent smile.” (source)

Within the demiurgic matrix always resorting to inversion and deception, the clown embodies a seeming duality in which he is meant to provide laughter and entertainment, while concealing his dark and sinister nature. 

The best-known evil clowns are undoubtedly Stephen King's Pennywise (It); Ronald McDonald of McDonald's restaurants; and the Joker from the Batman series. These three figures embody different aspects of matrix corruption.

Just like the archons, Pennywise, a shapeshifting entity who lives in the depths and feeds on the fear of children, is the archetypal astral predator. Under a harmless, playful guise, it traps its victims in delusion before devouring them.

Ronald McDonald, on the other hand, is not directly scary, but conditions people to self-destruction by associating toxic food with fun and games, creating an emotional bond at a young age that will make food addiction all the stronger later in life. He's related to fairground clowns and symbolises the abuse of innocence for vibratory enslavement purposes (junk food drastically lowers frequencies). Like the demiurge, he is a false benefactor claiming to offer happiness when, in reality, he's providing poison.

Last but not least, the most complex of the threesome, the Joker, differs in that he embodies the agent of matrix chaos. He rejects social order and seeks to destroy the matrix; he is out of control and operates without any apparent logic. He seems ‘aware’, but he is still trapped by the matrix. He thinks he can fight his way out of the system, yet he 's part of the show. He's not seeking mental sovereignty but complete destruction — such energy is being recycled by the matrix for self-perpetuation as chaos is but another controlled illusion to prevent individuals from truly awakening.

Other significant features of the Joker are his scars, reminiscent of the mutilations inflicted on medieval jesters and on children in paedosatanic rituals. Various motives include destroying original identity; inverting the sacred, as the face is connected to the soul (disfigurement aims to wipe out any trace of the divine); and harnessing suffering and trauma in order to generate energy to sustain astral entities.

What's more, in various occult traditions, masks (such as the clown's) are thought to facilitate possession, allowing entities to use the body as a vessel.

Put simply, the evil (or demonic) clown is a powerful matrix figure standing for  the deceptive duality of the system (joy/suffering, illusion/reality); the energetic consumption of fear (Pennywise) or flesh (Ronald McDonald); organised chaos (the Joker, who destroys but does not liberate); and corruption of childhood (satanic rituals, psychic manipulation).

Ha! ha! said the clown
Has the king lost his crown? 

"Ha! Ha! Said the Clown", Manfred Mann (1967)

When are we going to break the ring of fire, unseal our eyes and lips and stand up to the maniacal sniggering of mad hyaenas, laughing at the dark antics of uptown mountebanks mocking our every steps? Let's break up the crown of the false king and reclaim our inner kingdoms. Here and now.

© La Pensine Mutine. All rights reserved. Reproduction prohibited.

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Candy Pink Life

Get me out of this place
Get me out of this town
Before I drown
In your deep pink water

"Pink Water", Indochine (2005)

No sooner had I completed my first task than it was already time for me to say goodbye to my fairground booth in Paris and head off to Candyland, swapping my gulliball for (elephant pink) gumballs. The card for February is the 2 of Hearts, naturally related to (astral) love, but also to deception.

Sugar Pink

Inevitably, whenever we think of the colour pink, we associate it with the rosy romance of sentimental fiction and the watered-down views of inflated positivism (polarisation) that would rather look at the world through rose-coloured glasses than see it as it really is.

Incidentally, the colour pink in English does not take its name from the rose flower, as it does in French, but from the flowers called pinks of the genus Dianthus, a garden plant of various colours with ‘perforated' (scalloped) petals, sometimes featuring small dots resembling 'small eyes' (from Dutch pinck oogen) or half-closed eyes, blinking (pinken).

Unfortunately, this matrix is no bed of roses. Sometimes (oftentimes), it stinks so bad you can't even smell the roses. And when they wither and dry, only the thorns remain and the rosy cloud may quickly take on a darker shade of bleak or even go full black.

That's when things ‘turn sour’ and we grow ‘bitter’. We need to mellow out. With sugar. Revert to a hypnotic state (sugar is highly addictive) on a candy pink cloud (for shrinks, the colour of dreams) with all the unicorns, angels, fairies and pink elephants.

At least in Western cultures, for in India, Hindu mythology associates the colour pink with Ganesha, the elephant-headed god, a symbol of wisdom and unification of the divine and the human.

Succubus Pink

In this matrix, it is important to understand that over-optimism and romanticising are used to manipulate and control human perception, so as to disconnect the soul from the harsh reality of its true condition.

Life is a rose, each petal an illusion and each thorn a reality.  

Alfred de Musset

'Looking through rose-coloured glasses' is therefore an emotional trap encouraging people to remain in their illusory comfort bubble, which prevents them from seeing the true nature of their matrix prison. This is how pink Care Bears refuse to see the corruption, manipulation and dysfunctions of the world so as to ‘enjoy life’. And in so doing, they find themselves in a state of emotional dependency and subservience, which fuels the archontic forces behind the matrix.

For contrary to popular misconception, loosh, a term popularised by Robert Monroe, who pioneered research in out-of-body experiences — which is the subtle energy produced by human emotions and reactions to life situations — is not limited to negative emotions. Any polarised emotion (whether positive or negative) may be exploited, as long as it is intense and generates strong reactions. Although Archons are often associated with negative emotions, they are essentially opportunistic energy parasites. They want to keep humans trapped in the emotional matrix where they constantly produce polarised emotions, whether intense joy or deep pain.

So romantic rapture, naive bliss, artificially induced elation, and blind worship are also exploitable energy sources. Actually, this type of loosh is especially valued, for humans are more productive when they are stimulated by positive emotions as they can fuel the matrix without questioning their conditioning.

The trap lies in polarisation. Archons feed on any polarised emotion, whether positive or negative. The real antidote is to achieve conscious emotional neutrality.

Archons cannot feed on sovereign love nor on the quietness that inner joy provides, for balanced energy does not produce any exploitable loosh.

Rather than looking through candy pink-coloured lenses, it's therefore best to take a clear-headed look from a neutral, balanced perspective, without falling for the illusions of the matrix. Lucid vs Cupid.

The Rose Within

However, the colour pink is also charged with special symbolism which has been widely misused to limit its scope and reduce it to a symbol of triviality and meek delicacy. Hence, in some esoteric traditions, the soul is surrounded by a pink energy field, acting as a vibratory shield against archontic intrusions.

Everybody knows
That what my lover sows
Kills the roses…

"Kills the Roses", Something Happens (1990)

Also, alchemically-speaking, the rose flower, the pink colour takes its name from in most Latin languages, does not reflect  a naive view of reality, but rather the process of unveiling hidden truths.

Actually, the rose is a central, universal symbol that can be found in many cultures and spiritual trends (alchemy, Christian mysticism, Gnosticism, etc.). It is tied to complex symbolism and a number of fundamental concepts, as it is supposed to represent the soul; sovereignty (where the soul needs to outwit the illusions imposed by both Adonai, the artificial intelligence of the matrix, and the archons, in order to regain its original freedom); and stands as the guardian of the secret of the soul's pure and unaltered core of information, where the archontic matrix pushes humans to seek answers outside rather than within.

In other words, the rose could represent the access to the neutral data of the soul, which is located outside the matrix and beyond the reach of archontic forces. The legendary bag we let the kitty out of, that contains the hidden master key to open all doors including the most tamper-proof locks.

So when do we stop kidding ourselves, send the whole gang of blind psychos packing, and finally escape from this gaol?

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Pumpkin Season

Now is that time of the year when pumpkins
Fleetingly appear behind every shop window
And the hell with all gargoyles,
Demons and living dead of Halloween.

I'm fleeing
This pervading madness.
I no longer rely on anything, good or evil
For down here,
None shall be my king.

And you, infinite
Through oblivion,
My spirit and echo of my life,
You shall be,
You shall be my path.

You'll light up
My way out
Of this matrix of deceit and predation.
You shall be
My weapon of choice.

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Jingle All the Way!

Jingle bells,
Jingle bells
Jingle all the way.
Oh! what fun it is to ride
In a one-horse open sleigh.

"Jingle Bells", Frank Sinatra (1957)

By dint of hearing bells jingle all the way, Tinker Bell has mutated into the Mad Hatter, singing "Brother John" on top of her head—the latter, by chance, remaining firmly screwed into her neck in spite of the darts and fits of the Queen of Hearts, stubbornly obsessed with being a pain in the neck and getting the head of anyone above and below daring to stand up to her. Could it be that her heart has lost its reasons that reason itself ignores? No one knows. And if no one gets it, it means everyone's lost it. That's quite devious, I admit, but never mind, it's a big deal. And at the end of the tale, damn the cost, the Royals don't count. Whatever the fat death knells alarming all the way may say, on the day of the Three Kings, we shall omit the trinkets. End of the line.

Merry Christmas everyone!

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