Our concern is to approach by many oblique angles the elusive topic of The Master and we so while hunted, at war on the cognitive level, with the homunculi and various lesser minions at our heels, and all the while cast in the lunar light thrown out in the highly-charged, and oat-milk infused auspices of the great Beaver moon 2021.
Episode 10 finds us absconding with cosmic power every which way. Treasure is taken!
The slow-rolling thunder of the witchy world is stolen out from under the honey-masque noses of the many yoga-covens. Fair play. We store it in deep recesses and the few stunned onlookers only shake their heads as it's shuttled off, sequestered, smuggled seemingly into the dark of night--but cached securely far from the roiling strange anti-flesh of The Mold to fuel the unrelenting forward rumble of the Warhorse.
Healing modalities, the relationship with the father (both more and more simple than one may assume), the nature of genius as aether fire trapped temporarily in vessels both mystical and accessible---to some. We drop some gear tips, detour with care to harp on Sorge, build out the permeable realities of the triune structure of the Warrior's Way and ultimately return to our old pal, and the archetypal detective, Mr. Dale Cooper.
As the show-trial of Rittenhouse comes to a close under the full moon we see fate or destiny, the many enraged Furies of myth, and sense the quickening of the realms. You're a fool to ignore it, and we are fools to bind ourselves to the media cycle.
