The brotherhood of El

El =Saturn

The worship of Saturn is the oldest secret religion.

Their symbol – the one eye

Why is the one eye symbol on the American dollar bill??

Symbols are perceived by humans on a subconscious level.

Is that why modern media and the entertainment industry is filled with one-eye symbols? Are celebrities flashing it without realizing its true meaning and what they are communicating to the public or are they puppets?

The occult symbols and imagery are everywhere, in movies, television, music and fashion, but human beings are totally blind to them.

The first and most important tenant of initiation into almost all cult sex magick is the sodomizing of children!!!! Sodomy and pedophilia is the foundation of the whole thing!! Goes back to Nimrod and the Egyptian initiations.

CANNOT proceed to the next level without this step.

Blake’s dad!

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Child sacrifice is a worldwide phenomenon. Every culture has at some point in history stooped to it.

Why?

Is there a long-term agenda? An unseen hand?

Who are the children of the shadows? What do they want with us?

Need more answers. Can’t find! Who to ask?

I can make no sense of her notes. Why is Lana doing research on sex magick and such dark subjects as child sacrifice? Why is Blake’s dad mentioned in the notes? And the sodomizing of children! Why is she interested in such an unspeakably horrible subject?

I run to the door and hurry down the corridor. In the kitchen Lana’s slice of cake is almost gone and she is sipping her tea.

‘Finish your cake,’ she says. ‘We should be going or we’ll be late for our appointment.’

I sit down, my mind racing. I eat the rest of the cake without tasting it.

We have just got into the car when Blake calls. I can tell by the way her voice softens and becomes all giggly. I find it hard to marry up this love-struck girl/woman with the dark research I found on her laptop. If this is a mask she is wearing then it makes me determined to find out what is really going on. When she terminates the call I ask her if there will be paparazzi at the wedding.

‘No, Blake has had the area designated as a no fly zone. It is just for close friends and family.’

‘How come you’re not having a bridal shower?’

‘I guess because I don’t want my friends to shower me with gifts. I already have everything I could possibly want!’

Wow! How amazing to be able to say that. ‘What about a hen night? Don’t you want one of those?’

‘Blake doesn’t want to have a stag night and even though he’s cool with me having a night out with the girls I hate leaving him at night. I see so little of him as it is.’

‘Why doesn’t Blake want a stag night?’

‘He says stag nights are a form of consolation for men who feel they are sacrificing a cherished state for the sake of love. He knows he is sacrificing nothing.’

‘He works really hard, doesn’t he?’

‘Yes, very.’

‘I thought rich people spent all their time quaffing champagne and caviar and going to the opera.’

‘Blake’s father didn’t want his children to be trust fund kids. They were taught that even the greatest empire can be brought to its knees if the king and his favorites are sunk in luxuries and dissolution.’

Something flashed in Lana’s eyes when she mentioned Blake’s father. What, I do not know…yet.

Tom drops us outside Selfridges and Lana takes me to a make-up counter where an Asian girl smiles politely at me. Lana introduces us.

‘Go on, work your magic,’ Lana says. ‘I’ll be back in half an hour.’

First Aisha takes a photograph of me.

‘Why are you doing that?’

‘Usually women who are used to wearing very heavy make-up feel naked and dissatisfied when they first look in the mirror at what I have done, but they react in a totally different way to a Polaroid of themselves.’

I sit on a stool and she positions herself in front of me.

‘Are you wearing colored contact lenses?’

I nod.

‘Are they for correction purposes or just cosmetic?’

‘Cosmetic.’

‘Right.’

Going to a drawer she brings out antiseptic wipes and a contact lenses case and some storing solution. She gives the wipes to me and fills the cases with the solution and passes them to me. I clean my fingers and remove my lenses.

‘You have such lovely hazel eyes,’ she says. ‘What a shame to cover them with those lenses.’

Then she wets a cotton wool pad with make-up remover and starts taking the layers off. Once it is all gone she takes a step back and looks at me carefully. ‘Your eyebrows are so light. Is that the natural color of your hair?’

‘Yes.’ I grimace.

‘Why do you do that? It’s a beautiful color.’

She says no more. Just quietly gets to work. Lana comes back just as she is finishing. Her mouth becomes a surprised O and her eyes sparkle with delight.

‘Oh, Julie,’ she exclaims. ‘You look stunning.’

Another photo is taken of me and then the stool is turned around. I look at the mirror.

And I am not pleased.

The girl looking back at me is too exposed. Too young. Too uncovered. Aisha brings the two photos and puts them into my hands. The photos tell a different story. One is harsh with black eyebrows, fake blue eyes and thickly painted lips and the other is a dewy and soft eyed. I know which one I prefer. I look in the mirror.

‘I guess I am just not used to it,’ I say uncertainly.

Lana comes close to me. ‘Julie, you look beautiful. I have never seen you look more beautiful.’

‘Really?’

‘Really. Look, let’s go do your hair, and then you can decide.’

Lana pays for my cosmetics and we leave. I catch a glimpse of myself in one of the mirrors and maybe, maybe Lana is right. I do look better. Different anyway.

Inside the fragrant air-conditioned confines of the hairdresser’s, Bruce Lenhart’s eyebrows fly into his hairline.

‘What’s the inspiration for this?’ he asks, running his hands through my hair.

‘Morticia Adams,’ I say meekly. I’m not about to tell anybody that Lana is my inspiration.

He crosses his arms across his chest. ‘Your hair is very dry. Do you straighten it as well?’

I nod.

‘So your hair is curly.’

‘Wavy.’

‘And you have been coloring your hair for how long?’

‘Years.’




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