Ego Quid Videret
While pouring through Andrea Alciato’s Emblemata (1584), I felt the fugue come over me once more. On the page, a man stood alone pointing at some aerial phenomena. But what? Something was obscured here so I ran to my carving bench and began to dig out the truth of the matter.
Here is the result. This print details a medieval man standing on the outskirts of a fortified town. Above, something more than a comet blazes past in the night sky. Chariot of the Gods? Ancient Alien? Simple Ergot poisoning? I stare at the image to try and suss out the truth – it hangs next to my window, calling attention to the infinite night sky.
Hans Holbien’s Totentanz, the Dance of Death, swept Europe like some sort of plague in the 1500s. It, of course, was hiding a secret truth that the Illuminated Masters of Europe wished to keep from the common man – not all plague victims were taken by disease.
Some were taken by things not of this Earth. They showed me the process during a recent encounter and I have recreated it for you. Family legend says it that child would have been a problem anyways.
Is this how the Illuminati was born? Deep in the night, a rich and powerful woman pulled from her bed by those who made her power appear as a candle to a bonfire? Did her promise to never be so weak again doom us all to the control of shadowy puppet masters?
Sometimes, they come back.
Did one of the fleeing figures in this piece provide the inspiration for Hans Holbien’s Totentanz, the Dance of Death? I suspect so. Of course, the Illuminati got to Holbien and forced him to change the images of aliens to grim Death.
Geburt der Trauer
In 1538 there was a secret summit held between the ruling elite of mankind and visitors from another world. Here a deal was struck – in exchange for technology and the secrets of the universe, the Illuminati would give up a number of humans for testing. The exact number is unknown, but it has certainly grown over the centuries.
Why would such an advanced species even care what primitives such as man would want? Even now they could destroy us at a whim. Hans Holbien suspected that there were higher powers yet, some force above even the Visitors, and our immortal souls were sold out from under us.
Ever since I finished this carving, my nightly visitations ceased. Perhaps They think I’m one of Them?
A Doctor Calls
“We sent Jacoby out in the carriage to fetch Doctor Krumm and the doctor came quickly. The creature had been subdued in the cellar but by the time the doctor arrived, it had recovered from its altercation with Bartlett and was beginning to test its chains. Doctor Krumm tended to the gardener’s wounds first – Bartlett’s arm was lacerated and the wounds festered at an alarming rate – so the creature was fully awake by the time the doctor donned his protective garb and made the descent into the castle’s depths.
I followed several paces behind, a pike from the armory at hand and two men-at-arms close behind. We observed the doctor approach the creature. It began a hellish keening that made us wonder if we should have called for Father John instead. The doctor approached, torch held high and the creature ceased its devilish cry. Slowly, the pale thing reached forward and extended a single, misshapen hand.
Its finger began to glow and I could stand it no more. I left Doctor Krumm to his work. No matter how much he cut, he could not solve the mystery of the creature’s glowing finger.”
— Sir Alfred of Hartlepool to King James I
VOLO CREDERE – “I Want to Believe”
James Cavendish III did not put much stock in things he could not hold, things he could not see with his own eyes. The parish priest rankled at this, of course, but as the Cavendish family owned most of the land thereabouts all he could do was pray that somehow, someway the Lord Cavendish would be made a believer.
A pity he was not more specific in his prayers.
“I remember them – those long summer nights in the garden, so cool after the heat of day. I remember the children, my children, laughing and playing. But their faces… why can’t I remember their faces? I remember love.. and longing. I feel that longing again. Please. Find my children before I depart this Earth for the final? time.” – Lady Elizabeth Cholmondeley’s letter from her deathbed, written two days before her disappearance.
This hand carved, pressed, and printed piece is for all the moms out there. Well, the moms and their half human alien hybrid children. If you have wistful yet hazy memories of your own family gatherings, then you might want think back about who was there and who was missing. If you are an FBI agent seeking to reconnect with your estranged partner, this would be a good first step so put down those sunflower seeds and giver her a call.
They left it out, beaten and bruised, hanging in a lonely cage. “An example must be made!” the abbot shouted. “An example must be made!” his congregation replied.
They left it ash, rubble and smoke, survivors calling to the sky. “An example must be made,” the commander intoned. “An example must be made,” its crew replied.
All images © Giles Corey