Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Legend of the Seeker 1x15 Conversion Pentagrams & Illuminatus! Trilogy Pentagons

Lots of Pentagrams in this episode. Here the Pentagon within the Pentagram lights up for a teleportation spell of Darken Rahl.

The Illuminatus! Trilogy Excerpts featuring the pentagon:
"Wait a minute. Look at how the whole design revolves around the pentagon. Everything else sort of grows out of it"
"So? You think the Defense Department is the international hub of the Illuminati conspiracy?" "Let's just read the rest of the memos," Muldoon suggested.
He also urged deep study of the tarot, "to fight the real enemy with their own weapons," whatever that meant. He was launching into a peroration about the mystic significance of the number 23— pointing out that 2 plus 3 equals 5, the pentad within which the Devil can be invoked "as for example in a pentacle or at the Pentagon building in Washington," while 2 divided by 3 equals 0.666, "the Number of The Beast, according to that freaked-out Revelation of Saint John the Mushroom-head," that 23 itself was present esoterically "because of its conspicuous exoteric absence" in the number series represented by the Wobbly Hall address, which was 2422 North Halsted— and that the dates of the assassinations of John F. Kennedy and Lee Harvey Oswald, November 22 and 24, also had a conspicuous 23 absent in between them— when he finally was shouted down, the conversation returned to a more mundane level.
That pentagon that keeps popping up— it's the middle of the pentacle for summoning the Devil. Fascism is only their political facet. Basically, they're a theology— or an anti-theology, I guess. But what in hell— literally in hell— is their ultimate objective, then?"
"Don't ask me," Barney shrugged.
"I've got it, I've got it!" Saul said, laughing, "I looked every way but the right way before. He's inside the Pentagon. That's why they build it in that shape, so he couldn't escape. The Aztecs, the Nazis... and now us..."
"Yes," Mavis said grimly. "That's why thirty thousand Americans disappear every year, without trace, and their cases end up in the unsolved files. He has to be fed."
Drake read what was to become the National Security Act of 1947. "This abolishes the Constitution," he said almost in ecstasy. "Quite. And believe me, Mr. Drake, by '46 or '47, we will have Congress and the public ready to accept it. The American Empire is closer than you imagine." "But the isolationists and pacifists—Senator Taft and that crowd—" "They will wither away. When communism replaces fascism as the number one enemy, your small-town conservative will be ready for global adventures on a scale that would make the heads of poor Mr. Roosevelt's liberals spin. Trust me. We have every detail pinpointed. Let me show you where the new government will be located." Drake stared at the plan and shook his head. "Some people will recognize what a pentagon means," he said dubiously. "They will be dismissed as superstitious cranks. Believe me, this building will be constructed within a few years. It will become the policeman of the world. Nobody will dare question its actions or judgments without being denounced as a traitor. Within thirty years, Mr. Drake, within thirty years, anyone who attempts to restore power to the Congress will be cursed and vilified, not by liberals but by conservatives." "Holy God," Drake said.

The Grand Master rose and walked to an old-fashioned globe nearly as large as King Kong's head. "Pick a spot, Mr. Drake. Any spot. I guarantee you we will have American troops there within thirty years. The Empire that you dreamed of while reading Tacitus." Robert Putney Drake felt humbled for an instant, even though he recognized the gimmick: using one single example of telepathy, plucking Tacitus out of his head, to climax the presentation of the incredible dream. At last he understood firsthand the awe that the Illuminati created in both its servitors and its enemies. "There will be opposition," the Grand Master went on. "In the 1960s and early 1970s especially. That's where your notion for a unified crime syndicate fits into our plan. To crush the opposition, we will need a Justice Department equivalent in many ways to Hitler's Gestapo. If your scheme works—if the Mafia can be drawn into a syndicate that is not entirely under Sicilian control, and the various other groups can be brought under the same umbrella—we will have a nationwide outlaw cartel. The public itself will then call for the kind of Justice Department that we need. By the mid-1960s, wiretapping of all sorts must be so common that the concept of privacy will be archaic." And, tossing sleeplessly, Drake thought how smoothly it had all worked out; why then was he rebelling against it? Why did it give him no pleasure? And what was it Jung had said about power?

Richard Jung, wearing Carl Jung's old sweater and smoking his pipe, said, "And next the solar system." The room was crowded with white rabbits, Playboy bunnies, Bugs Bunny, the Wolf Man, Ku Kluxers, Ma-fiosos, Lepke with accusing eyes, a dormouse, a mad hatter, the King of Hearts, the Prince of Wands, and Jung was shouting over the din. "Billions to reach the moon. Trillions to get to Mars. All pouring into our corporations. Better than the gladiatorial games." Linda Lovelace elbowed him aside. "Call me Ishmaelian," she said suggestively; but Jung handed Drake the skeleton of a Biafran baby. "For Petruchio's feast," he explained, producing a piece of ticker tape. "We now own," he began to read, "seventy-two percent of earth's resources, and fifty-one percent of all the armed troops in the world are under our direction. Here," he said, passing the body of an infant that had died in Appalachia, "see that this one gets an apple in its mouth." A bunny passed Drake a 1923 Thompson machine gun, the model that had been called an automatic rifle because the Army had no funds to buy submachine guns that year. "What's this for?" Drake asked, confused. "We have to defend ourselves," the bunny said. "The mob is at the gates. The hungry mob. An astronaut named Spartacus is leading them." Drake handed the gun to Maldonado and crept upstairs to his private heliport. He passed through the lavatory to the laboratory (where Dr. Frankenstein was attaching electrodes to Linda Lovelace's jaws) and entered the golf course again, where the door opened to the airplane cabin.
Teleported! And below more pentagrams in the dungeon


Jon Kidd said...

The first image reminds me of the golden ratio. I go to pull up an image and get...


I was Just talking about all the double R's in this episode with a fellow synchead.

Jon Kidd said...

Oh yeah this synchead, I'll leave unnamed for now, pointed out the first double R at 1:01.


dedroidify said...

Thanks man, awesome stuff. Nice that you catched those divine ratio boxes.

Heh, good ol' law of fives.
What double R's? Don't remember that. Checked in my vid at 1.01 but didn't notice any, or do you mean the characters on Darken Rahl's shirt?


I know from the wiki book the main character Richard Cypher is actually Richard Rahl, so that's one.

Jon Kidd said...

The flag on the wall..


Peace Dedroid

P.s. Holy shit you got allot on your web page! Ambitious fellow. Well done.

dedroidify said...

Oh, linky doesn't work.

Peace & tnx!

Jon Kidd said...

Sorry mango...I posted the god damn image on my supplementary blog here...should work NOW


Meeeyah shmeee

dedroidify said...

Coolies, look forward to full post!

LOL mango ringo, I like it.