> விசேடத்தன்மை வாய்ந்தது. இதனை elitistically intellectual
> என்று சொல்லலாம்.
> தமிழியம் ஆகியவை அங்கம் பெற்றிருக்கும்.
> 1. சமயம்: இந்தத் தலைப்பில் "இந்து" என்ற பெயரில் தற்சமயம்
> ஆகியவை இடம் பெறும்.
> 2. கலாச்சாரம்: பாரதக்கலாச்சாரம் - பெருமளவில் தமிழ்க்கலாச்சாரம்
> விளங்கும்.
> 3. கலைகள்: அறிவியல் கலைகள், நுண்கலைகள், நுகர்ச்சிக்கலைகள்,
> ஆகியவை மையம் பெறும்.
> 4. இலக்கியம்: நல்ல பழந்தமிழ் இலக்கியங்கள், பெருமளவில் மிகவிரைவாக
> மறைந்துபோய்க்கொண்டிருக்கின்றன. அவற்றைப்பற்றிய தகவல்கள்
> பரிமாறப்படும். தரமான பிறமொழி இலக்கியங்களும் இங்கு பேசப்
> படும்.
> 5. வரலாறு: பாரத வரலாறு - குறிப்பாகத் தமிழர் வரலாறு.
> 6. தமிழியம்: "நாம் தமிழர்" என்ற உணர்வு முன்வைக்கப்பட்ட, தமிழர் சம்பந்தப்
> பட்ட தகவல் மையம்.
> தமிழிலும் ஆங்கிலத்திலும் கருத்துப்பரிமாற்றங்கள் நிகழ்த்தப்படும்.
> முயலப்படும்.
> ஐந்தக்குழு குறிப்பிட்ட நோக்கங்களுக்காக ஏற்படுத்தப்பட்டது. ஆகவே
> வேண்டியுள்ளன.
> வருவேண். அங்கத்துவம் பெறவிழைவோர் நேரடியாக என்னிடம் விண்ணப்பிக்க
> வேண்டும்.
> கடைபிடிக்கிறோம். அதன்படி, விண்ணப்பிப்போர், தங்களைப்பற்றிய சில
> தகவல்களை அனுப்பவேண்டும். இந்தத் தகவல்கள் பாதுகாக்கப்பட்டவையாக
> விளங்கும்.
> சர்வர் வாய்த்ததும் அங்கு மாற்றப்பட்டுவிடும்.
> இதுவும் ஒரு Global Networkதான்.
> ஆனால், மிகச்சிறியது; கட்டைவிரல் பரிமாணமே உடையது.
> பி.கு. தற்சமயம் உலகில் உள்ள மற்ற இணையக்குழுக்களில் மேற்கூறிய
> விஷயங்கள் போதுமான அளவில் இடம்பெறுவதில்லை. அப்படியே
> எழுதினாலும் ஆதரவு போதுமானதாக இல்லை. ஆகவேதான் இந்த
> நிர்ப்பந்தம் ஏற்பட்டுவிட்டது.
> விளங்கும் குறுமுனியின் பெயரில் "அகஸ்த்யா" என்று பெயரிட்டுள்ளேன்.
> ஆகஸ்ட் மாதத்தில் இந்தக்குழுமம் தோன்றியுள்ளது. இந்த மாதத்தில்தான்
> அடிவானத்தில் தோன்றும். அப்போதுதான் புதுவெள்ளம் ஓடும்.
> காவிரியிலும்தான், வைகையிலும்தான், தாமிரவருணியிலும்தான்.
> நைல்நதியிலும்தான். ஆம். அவர்களும் அதனை - பதினெட்டாம்பெருக்கைக்-
> கொண்டாடியிருக்கின்றனர்.
> பி.கு.#2 மேற்கூறிய விஷயங்களில் உங்களின் கருத்துக்களைக் கூறுங்கள்.
> பிறகு லிஸ்ட்டை இயங்கச்செய்துவிடலாம். அத்துடன் யாரையும்
அன்பர் உள்ளம்.
" இறைவன் எங்கும் உள்ளவன். எல்லாவற்றையும் அறிந்தவன்.இருந்தாலும்
"... எங்கே மெய் அன்பர் உளர் அங்கே நலம் தர எழுந்து அருளும் வண்மைப்பதம்!
என் போன்றவர்க்கு மிகு பொன்போன்ற கருணை தந்து இதயத்து இருக்கும் பதம்! என்
உயிரை அன்னபதம்! என் உயிர்க்கு உயிராய் இலங்கு செம்பதம்...!"
http://www.mk.net/~mcf/victm-hm.htm#Brennan
http://www.geocities.com/Area51/3255/tcb.html
http://www.io.com/~hambone/mail/tcasey.html
http://www.sentex.net/~dvanhorn/tcasey/tcasey.html
CONJURELLA FEVER: TRANSCENDING TIME & MK-ULTRA
Science Fiction Truth by award-winning CREEPY writer T. Casey Brennan
This is the story of the Abominations. This is the story of Those
Who Wait. Like L. Ron Hubbard and H.P. Lovecraft, my late father, St.
Clair County (Michigan) Board of Education member William J. Brennan
worked for that Citadel of the Old Ones, the pulp magazines of the
1940s. Two issues of the 1940s Street & Smith companion to WEIRD TALES
and THE SHADOW, LOVE STORY magazine, carry my dad's stories, under the
authorship, Bill Brennan.
To serve the pulps was to serve the Old Ones; to serve them, was to
behold the NECRONOMICON, if only in dreams. Herman Slater, owner of the
old Warlock Shoppe in Brooklyn, after he published ME, the blood-stained
legend, in the square-backed summer 1975 edition of EARTH RELIGION NEWS
(not to be confused with EAST WEST JOURNAL November 1984, page 13, which
also carries a write-up on me - but that happened in Berkeley, when they
tried to kill Manson, so I must talk about that later, much later),
published his own fictitious NECRONOMICON, what the Necronomicon "might
be like". No...
No, this is the story of Lynette Fromme, one of my friends, a girl
from Ann Arbor, met her while she was being transferred from one prison
to another. It was a girl I lived with for a long time, she was never
my lover, she was just my landlady, but we got introduced by the late
Ernie Brown, of Ann Arbor's cable channel 9, host of numerous Ann Arbor
cablevision shows, the last being entitled SIMPLY YOU. Ernie died of
pneumonia in December of 1996, at the age of 39, after introducing me to
the girl who had met Lynette Fromme.
But now the Conjurella Fever begins, now the story comes forth, now
the bleak memories of things that cannot be...
No, this is the story of Eponymous Hawking, and the Chandrashakar
Limit, of dinosaurs that take back the earth, of black holes and time
warpsof the boy who shot John Kennedy, who, still a boy in Berkeley,
witnesses the aftermath of an attempt on Manson's life...
Eponymous Hawking fears the night. Eponymous Hawking fears the
long, dark night. His tongue has been cut out, his mentor has proven
himself an MK-ULTRA agent, he has only one ally: his mentor's wife. He
will survive. Like the other MK-ULTRA experiments, like any life Dr. E
ever touched, he is made of steel. He will survive. Like Howard
Brennan, he lied. He knows.
In the known universe, there are about a hundred million galaxies,
each with about a hundred million stars.
(CRIMESTOPPERS TEXTBOOK: To find NASA/CIA postings about T. Casey
Brennan, by ace NASA poster, "Special K", go into the Old Usenet, and
search the OLD database for the Boolean <"Poor Animals" AND Brennan>.)
To my knowledge, there is no proof that ANY of these stars has a
planetary system, like our own sun, Sol. This observation is extremely
significant,,, vis-avis, the Chandrashakar Limit. The Chandrashakar
Limit determines which stars have sufficient mass to collapse into that
paradox of physics, the black hole. Beneath the Chandrashakar Limit, a
star, upon expiring, collapses into something at least comparable to
ordinary matter, a White Dwarf, at the extreme. A White Dwarf is still
matter which obeys the ordinary laws of physics, unly under extreme
density.
Above the Chandrashakar Limit, the star collapses into a black
hole. A black hole is a virtually infinitely compact mass of
time-space, drawing adjacent time-space into its core. The event
horizon of a black hole prevents the entire universe from falling into
such a collapsed star. The event horizon is a kind of shell surrounding
a black hole. Yet, worm holes escape from a black hole, sending a
warping effect to all time-space within their reach. A planet falling
into a black hole can reverse in time, can enter parallell worlds, and
it's own distant past.
The Abominations. Where man rules now, they ruled before, where
man rules now, they shall rule again. Man's rule upon the earth has
been but a whisper, a heartbeat, that "fleeting moment" of Goethe's
Faust, one brief moment compared to endless ages when the dinosaurs
ruled, when no mammal walked, when serpents ruled, masked and mystical,
cowled and crimson, cold and dark, of the night, of the night...
The Conjurella dream is so difficult to tell.
In 1975, my career as an award-winning comic book writer for the
Warren magazines, CREEPY, EERIE, and VAMPIRELLA (Marilyn Manson has a
tatoo of Uncle Creepy on his arm), was virtually totalled. I was
reduced to writing essays claiming to be the reincarnation of Roaring
Twenties satanist, Aleister Crowley, as published in such magazines as
Llewellyn's GNOSTICA (#30, 31? Ciurca 1977), EARTH RELIGION NEWS, and a
mid-1970s issue of the British zine INSIGHT, from Crowleyan Deric R.
James.
Anyway, it all led to two links to Manson.
This is the first link to Manson.
In 1975, I was head over heels in love with my plan to have all
Crowleyans everywhere declare me the reincarnation of Aleister Crowley.
Support for this camp[aign, which preceded my work against smoking in
comic books, as noted in CONGRESSIONAL RECORD - SENATE, Voil. 128, No.
131, September 28, 1982, page S12435, was scarce, so I conceived that I
would approach a well known cult figure, Charles Manson, for an
endorsement. I told Daddy about my belief in witchcraft and Crowleyan
Magick. I sure as hell didn't know he was going to pull what he did, or
I would have changed the subject, talked about school taxes, or horse
racing, or football, or that kind of crap that he liked.
Daddy says: "Would you believe you could kill a squirrel in
Michigan, and that would kill John Kennedy in Dallas?"
I pause nervoiusly. I don't like to talk about the Kennedy
assassination.
"Yeah, sure," I say, hoping to avoid JFK by going into a long,
involved explanation of the principles of witchcraft, "It's called
'sympathetic magic'. The macrocosm and the microcosm. Well, the spell
involves a miniature, a rteplica, which REPRESENTS..."
Daddy says: "I'll make it easyv for ya. Voodoo."
"Okay," I say.
Then he tells met it's not voodoo. Then he tels me about the
Conjurella memory, and again the boy is lifted up. Again the voices,
again the operating command, again the murdered President...
I remember flying into Chicago's O'Hare Airport in 1975. We hasd
always respected Moslems. Sometime in the mid-1950s, my Uncle, Charles
Goodrich (not Uncle Johnny of CONJURELLA, the onee that got us involved
with David Ferrie), was involved with the Aladdin Temple Shrine, on
Stelzer Road, in Columbus, Ohio. David Ferrie lived in Cleveland.
We're not supposed to say, but he had to do with my Aunt Patty, who
wasn't really my aunt at all, and wasn't really Patty at all. Like
David Ferrie, she was an Ohio cancer researcher, author of LIVING WITH
CANCER by Edna Kaehele, 1952, Doubeday & Company. Her name was Edna
Kaehele, but her friends called her Pat. She founded the
internationally acclaimed anti-cancer group, Fear Fighters, much touted
in the 1950s Columbus press, and wrote about me in her book, TRAINING
THE FAMILY DOG, 1953, Lantern Press, page 180: "The hardiest
individualist I know..Casey Brennan, a three-year-old friend from Avoca,
Michigan."
Anyway, that was us in Ohio in the 1950s, and one day Uncle Charley
took us to the Shrine Circus. He wore his fez, and I even got my
picture taken with a little fez that said "Moslem" on it. I think that
must have gotten us all respecting Moslems, andvthinking of them as more
durable allies than they eventually turned out to be.
So I flew into O'Hare airport in 1975. The next part of the
memory, I was sitying beside Louis Lomax, on a bench, outside, in as
remote part of the airport. I had read Louis Lomax's biography of
Malcolm X, WHEN THE WORD IS GIVEN. In the preface, he takes note of the
almost religious aspect of the Universal Pictures horror films ofv the
Golden Age: THE WOLFMAN, et al. I had copied that style of melodrama in
my own stories for the Warren magazines of the early 1970s, and my later
comics, as noted in my 1997 and 1998 WHO'S WHO IN AMERICA istings.
I don't remember what Lomax asked me. I don't remember whast I told
him. I only remember this. I was sitting beside Lomax on that bench.
There was no one else in sight. Suddenly a car pulls up full of black
guys. It all happen so quickly; they all jump out. The leader says,
just like this:
"put on your LIPS!"
They instantly pull thin gas masks over their faces.
It's a low instant whisper, but the word "LIPS" is a shout.
Silent machine-gun fire riddles Louis Lomax. I have only a nanosecond
to look and see the wounds erupting from his body, as the rapid-fire
shells hit. Then another nanosecond to look around and see pink gas
being sprayed on us from tubes.
No, after they try to kill Daddy and me, Daddy says: "Do you still
want Charles Manson as an endorser?"
I say: "No."
This is the second link to Manson.
In February of 1977, I went to Toronto, to secure an introduction
to HOLLYWOOD BABYLON author and film-maker, Kenneth Anger, from my then
friend, Captain George, of the shop, Captain George's Memory Lane. I
had some Canadian ties; I'd attended comic book conventions as a panel
guest at Winter's College at York University. I'd signed autographs
(following publication of my award-winning "On the Wings of a Bird" in
CREEPY #36), done radio interviews, and hobnobbed with other
celebrities. I had some action in Toronto.
I stayed at the Carleton Inn; they had a pool and a sauna on like,
the eighth floor or something. It was nice, but it was 40 below
outside. Forty below, is, by coincidence, the same temperature on both
the Fahrenheit and Celsius scales. Also, the fire alarm went off, and I
ran down twenty-three floors. Then they said there was just something
smoldering in the basement, and I threatened to sue them.
But I got the introduction to Kenneth Anger, who, at that time, was
preparing a sequel to his highly acclaimed film, SCORPIO RISING. The
new folm was to be called LUCIFER RISING, and, in no time, I had
arranged a part in it, written by anger himself. I had been slated to
play the ghost of Aleister Cowley, who appears behind Anger, as Anger
performs a Magickal Spell.
Name stars associated with the movie includfed Marianne Faithfull,
and Jimmy Page of the Led Zeppelin, who had written the
musical score. But Page's music was scrapped in favor of that of Bobby
Beausolil, which Anger seemed to pronounce "Bobby Beloy", and the T.
Casey Brennan scene was eliminated altogether. I asked Anger if
Beausolil, in prison for murder, was one of the Manson Family.
Anger says: "He killed one of the Manson Family."
This is the third link to Manson.
This is Berkeley in the early 1980s.
On October 17, 1983, Linda and Susan bought me a plane ticket to
San Diego. They distributed Jack T. Chick comics; they disappeared on a
road trip shortly thereafter. Jack T. Chick didn't give a damn; none of
their family has seen them since. I soon migrated to the San Francisco
Bay area, and in March of 1984, I moved into the Berkeley Krishna
Temple. Well, it was sort of a Krishna Temple, but for them too, things
had gone from bad to worse. An early leader of the Berkeley Temple, a
priest named Jiva, had gone bad, engaging himself in a variety of
criminal activities, prior to his murder. This was all before my time,
but around the time of Jiva's fall, and his death,
Srila Hansadutta arrived.
Hansadutta was born in Germany during the war, the son of Hitler's
personal baker. He had been thrown out of Germany, and I had seen a
copy of DER SPIEGEL, the German version of TIME and NEWSWEEK, calling
Hansadutta and his followers "more dangerous than the Bader-Meinhoff
gang". I have trouble believing that; he wasn't BAD, he was just
hot-headed. According to the Berkeley police, the Berkeley press, and
others, he liked to crusise around Berkeley with the passenger window
open, firing on buildings. I don't think he ever shot anybody, even by
accident. He was just letting off steam, but it was crazy as hell; me,
I'll just fire off a few rounds in the air when I'm like that. Not
Hansadutta.
Anyway,m I'd promised Linda and Susan I was going to make some
smart career moves in California. Joining the Krishna Temple wasn't one
of theem; the Hansaduttas treated me like dirt - I wasn't even a eal
devotee, I was just their dishwasher. A typical memory of Berkeley was
washing pots on July 4, 1984, while the Hansadutta almost blew up their
parking lots with repeated blasts from "firecrackers", manufactured from
sticks of dynamite at their secondary temple, "The Farm", which I'd
never seen. I was told later that someone had talked "the Farm" right
out from under Hansdadutta. He'd signed over the deed in a supposed
business ploy, then, it was lost, and he'd never get it back. I was
interviewed on the UC Berkeley radio station, KALX, by Donna Fox, and on
KBLX by Keith Jenkins. I went on KTEH in San Jose as a member of a San
Francisco Regional Mensa team soliciting funds for the station, during a
Dr. WHO marathon. I even took a call from a San Jose police officer on
camera, calling in a donation. I was mentioned in some issue or other
of the CATHOLIC VOICE in Oakland, I created a short-lived comic
character called "Capt. KALX" for the KALX PROGRAM GUIDE, I appeared on
CALIFORNIA TONIGHT on KFCB in Concord (at that time, one of the Jim and
Tammy Bakker stations), I was written up in EAST WEST JOURNAL, November
1984, page 13, and I was an also-ran guest, with a free table, at a
comic convention in one of those buildings by Sproul Plaza.
That was Berkeley, 1983 to 1985, a hodge-podge of memories; a hell
of free meals, long penniless walks to the AA meeting at 2910 Telegraph
for free coffee, a career being shattered, and a servant's life in a
commune of inexplicable cultists, who, like myself, were being pursuerd
by their own deadly enemies.
This was the hit on Manson.
That afternoon, I came back to 2334 Stuart, the Berkeley Krishna
Temple, to find the community abuzz with some astounding news. The LOS
ANGELES TIMES had called...a former Berkeley devotee had attempted to
kill Charles Manson. The TIMES was adamant: Manson was DEAD, or should
be considered so; he'd beenm burned over 90% of his body, they said.
Some time after that, we were given a more detailed account of the
attack, so detailed that I suyspect it may have come from law
enforcemernt officials, or even a call from the attacker himself, though
I suppose the LA TIMES could have given it.
It went like this.
The ex-Berkeley devotee, first a priest, then a cop killer, then a
convict, is trying to chant aloud on his Krishna rosary. This gets on
Manson's nerves. Plus, probably Manson still thinks the Krishna people
are a bunch of sissies, the way they were when he went up...whatever
happened, now they're often mean as hell, especially ones from Berkeley.
Anyway, after much wrangling with Manson, the priest conceives an
assassination attempt. He has clearly studied Manson's habits, in that
he knows that Manson frequents the prison hobby shop. His thinking is
the elementary thinking of a warrior (of those objects around me, which
can be used as a weapon?), not the subsidized kind of thinking, where
they GIVE you axweapon that DOES the job. He chooses his make-shift
weapon, a can of paint thinner used in decorating model cars sold there.
He awaits Manson, throws the fluid in his face and lights it. Some
combination of prison guards and other inmates put out the fire, which
leaves Manson with only a few scars...but instantly the story is brought
to the Berkeley Temple, where the priest oncew lived, that Manson is
burned over ninety percent of his body, and is not expected to live.
This is the fourth link, the link that cannot be.
Scientists have determined that our sun, Sol, is well within the
Chandrashakar Limit; that there is no possibility that it will
eventually implode into a black hole. But the Chandrashakar Limit was
based on the atomic weight of suns with no known planetary systems.
Sol, combined with its solar systrem, particularly if one adds the outer
planets that are speculated to revolve beyond Pluto, is doubtless well
above the Chandrashakar Limit.
You could just LOOK, and the sun could turn into a black hole!
Long before our planet pierces, or is shattered against the black
hole's event horizon, worm holes of distorted time-space will escape
from the black hole, encompassing whole worlds, even travelling back in
time to before the black hole took place.
Time will turn backward. The earth will become as it was. The
abominations shall rise up, their wait has been endless, the serpents of
the old times shall rise up and take back the earth.
This is fiction:
Squeakanella sees the matrix, falls, has an epileptic seizure, then
pockets the gun. Two operating commands repeatr themselves in her
frenzied head:
1. Fire on command.
2. It isn't real.
Someone hass erred. The commands will conflict. Squeakanella has
fired guns in dreams before, she knows how a dream gun works, you just
draw and fire. You don't have to DO anything, it ruins the dream.
You don't have to take off the safety.
Squeakanella raises the impotent automatic, and pulls back a
rubbery trigger, just like a dream gun should be. She has shaken off
the blood, she did what I could not. Then she looks to the sky and she
beholds them, the serpents of the old places, for endless ages they
ruled before man, their yearning is endless, they yearn for the earth,
they yearn to come forth, and even to be used by them once is to know
that yearning eternal.
The End
______________________________________________________
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