Secret Worlds According to Victor Hugo

The history of nations, the oppression of the weak and vulnerable, the call for a fairer system, while the word of God failed, as preachers joined forces with those who lorded it over the lower classes, how the works of Jesus were forgotten, while clever men wrote books explaining it all, in accordance to what they thought, their words, only pebbles in the wall of understanding, their pride overcomes them, same way a starlet these modern days soaks up the accolades. Solomon was always a fan of the french nation, no one forgets the revolution, and those that came after those mad days, don’t have to be told, you don’t lord it over people, you have to love them all. Victor was a rare exception, he says it well, mixes history with a story of redemption.

Solomon loved the streets of Paris, as a tourist it wasn’t a struggle to survive, he had time to wonder, the long lunch, the dress, the bread, and the wine, the pride of the wine maker, the classifications, how they clap at the end of the movie, okay, so they don’t have big houses, four rooms could be their mansion, entertaining and meeting others was the life, the early morning argument in the cafe, men in their work overalls discussing politics before they went out to sweep the streets, their Pride in the Nation, blessed they believe by God.

So in order to overcome the powers of the authority, you have secret languages and signs, words, obfuscation as some would say, the hidden truth that Greed can destroy, you have a soul, and when mixed with good love, there is great power. Victor and his friends tried to remind us of this, I guess they still are. There is a God they all say, amen.

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Harry the Potter

Amo, what does He mean when he uses words such as potter, and stuff, it’s rather confusing, the request of a small child. Amo drifts back to his school days, he is having a recall while lying in bed in his care home. The thoughts on his mind when he faces the divine one, it’s like preparing for an exam, and Amo has high expectations.. A teacher all his life. He tries to remember the answer he gave that day. The child had one of the harry potter books in his hands, was there a connection he could make.

Amo thinks, don’t pretend if you don’t know the answer, and if it’s an educated guess admit it. Amo is tired of the so called global experts, and their expert opinions, it hasn’t worked, caused huge global problems, these so called expert opinions. A bit like Brexit and the United Kingdom, a huge bonus for every country but the United Kingdom, so much for expert opinion.

The potter fashions the clay, creates the vessel that holds liquids or foods, enables us to sit down and eat together. Without a vessel to hold water, think how difficult it would be. The Child nods, easy to understand that. So when it goes wrong sighs Amo, what does the potter do, say when it begins to leak. The child nods, that’s easy the little boy says. He makes a new one. Amo’s face widens into a grin, a wise little vessel this one is. Amo continues.

The clay can be refashioned too, when it gets out of shape he says and needs to be adjusted. You mean when it’s been made asks the Child. Amo sighs, God does not make mistakes, he wants to get it right. How about this he says smiling. The times when you know you done wrong and allow someone else to take the blame, how do you feel about it after, The child sighs, tears in it’s eyes, you feel bad, and you try to avoid them, don’t you, he says.

Amo is trying to connect the thinking of the Child to wisdom, there is no one solution. In his mind he recalls the teaching of Jesus, the faults that are passed on when we can’t forgive, and the resentment it causes later, and the harm passed on.  That would be one reason for refashioning the clay, apart from the destruction of the message it was supposed to carry… One way of putting it, enough for one day he sighs, the class is over, he is back in his bed in the care home, but smiles at the memory of long ago, seeds well sown, he’ll pass that test all right.

 

People of the Book

Rejoice, Amo was laughing, stuck to the bed in body, his Spirit was flying, aged, ninety or thereabouts, useless in the eyes of the material minded, gold in the eyes of God. He was a mature wine, and holding court to anyone who would listen. Solomon had come to visit, on his Spirit journey. The Sky opens, the sun bursts, the light from Heaven, the Power that speaks life Eternal, it’s not a fairy tale after all. You are not alone. Amo smiled, as another chocolate entered his mouth, he loves sweet stuff.

The meeting of Spirit, the opportunity to pass on wisdom. Solomon knew without doubt, that Amo was heading up, and he wanted to get a petition in, in advance of Amo’s return. Use the connection, Amo was bringing home a soul full of good deeds, and the Eternal Father was going to be smiling. Solomon being a close relative of Amo was not one to lose such a golden opportunity.

Earlier that week, the demon Angels had tried to push Solomon off course, as regular as race horses not trying to win, only trying to confuse him, hoping to sow doubts, the stuff they had been doing all their life, feeding fear into the Universe, Solomon was waiting for them, expecting them to do exactly that. Play dumb, be stupid, but act wisely. They will never suspect a thing. By the time they take the bait, it’s game over, they will come under the radar of heaven.

Solomon, in that mindset, was giving old Amo a pet talk. Ask for a little more he said, Amo raised his eyes, at ninety years of age, do you think I’m a work horse, what do you mean. How about an end to extremism, and assistance to those building the bridges of understanding between the people of the book. Amo nodded, I will do that sighed Amo, who loved everything that had Heavenly advice in it.

It’s great to have friends in High Places, amen.

Artists Artists Artists.. United?

He has something to say, you should listen to him, she has a new voice, listen, artists, the small child has words he wants to say, he’s a child no one listens, why. Artists, the great global consciousness, well that was the way it was supposed to be, the collective thoughts contained in their works, be it sculpting, writing poetry, long stories, canvas, all filled with need, their heads and the hearts, pouring into the world their thoughts; man, I wanted to hear those words, they mean something, artists, and what happens, or more important, what is it that this all means. Consciousness, awareness, the need to show, the necessity to open hearts to new pathways.

What in affect happens; down through the centuries, anyone who harboured thoughts that conflicted with the dogma of the ruling class of the day, usually thwarted, unless they had the patronage of the same people, and when some made a break through, difficulty is what they found, resentment caused, labels applied, unwell, not one of us and so on, unless the general populace loved them and defended them.

Solomon was reflecting, there were so many issues, so many you’d be lost in the haze. He read about the difficulties the traditional sources of comfort were having; loss of personnel, message not being absorbed, loss of connection, and so on. In relation to divine enthusiasm, if you based your “art” or “vocation in life”, on the connection overhead (Solomon encountered Holy Spirit, the real one, was saved a few times), a power that hit the peaks at the time of Jesus, you would assume you’d hang onto the connection, not by cheating, but by incorporating the principles in your life. If talent dries up, maybe it’s time for a career change, rather than go fishing for others talents, those less organised as they say; otherwise their divine connection blurs then dies.

Solomon was comparing the times of Jesus Christ, the threats that he had to overcome, the weakness of the believers in the face of miracles, and the regular threat, same today as then, of the already organised machine that controls so many lives. At a time when there has been so many signs, and they are on the way, everyday in fact, the danger of speaking up, saying it as it needs to be said, simply, be brave.

Artists, avenues for thoughts to disperse; there has never been a more needy time for them. Your job won’t matter if the toxic dump leaks into your water supply; and the environment for your children won’t change into positive territory, until you make the effort to improve things; leaving it to your leadership, is the same as waiting for Godot.

Sex Scandals

Seems we can’t get enough of it, papers full of it, Hollywood planing to make pictures of it, (a biography!), money has no friends just plenty of enemies. The Flight to the Asian paradise is nearing completion, they look at their watches, the boys smile, bird time. A case of the bird flew again. At least this time they bought plenty of the stuff that keeps you clean. Sex scandals, young, online, the couch, the daily drive to tempt you. Solomon didn’t think God Most High had the ear of the so called pious. No, the ear of the honest, at least you know what to expect, the truth.

How many times, how many different positions, what was on their minds. The stuff we tune our ear to, and the stuff we conveniently forget. Solomon sighed, now that GMH, God Most High was alert and the Spirit grew in strength

, he imagined help arriving from all sorts of places, amen.

Run Run Run

Shrieking, screaming, shattered emotional woman runs down her long drive, her petunias have been stolen and her life has been destroyed. Mobile in hand she phones the police, they are private, they arrive in minutes.

Mrs B, what is wrong, one of them asks. He puts an arm on her shoulders, comforts the lady, “so what is the matter Mam,”

my petunias, my petunias she points, to the hole in the ground, they are gone. Her award winning flowers, the ones she was going to enter in the show (be dramatic).

Five minutes away, a child lies hungry in the Ghetto. so much for Mrs B’s petunias, amen.

Get Up!

The preacher woman has put the fear of God in them, the accusers retreat from the hall, they see the moving Spirit, they know she represents God, they all step back, their earlier enthusiasm curbed, once they encounter the power of the all mighty One True God, they had never seen the like. She calls them towards her healing hands, where she will lay them down, the crowd is excited, they have been praying, genuinely calling out loud, Save us they pray, save them she did. The newspapers across the United States were full of the wonders, a preacher woman becomes the most famous woman in America, the years, the 1920’s.

The healing Spirit, the gift she was bestowed with, was not a gift as far as the excess’s of human kind were concerned, more a hindrance, you mean they believe, what a problem they thought; she was not a member of the religious mainstream.

Many years later, Solomon hit the same sea

m, came upon the healing Spirit, had the visit of the Great Spirit, and had used it as his special surprise ever since. Seriously, did anyone think they could scheme against the Great Spirit and escape their destiny, no one did.

The old man is tired, his years are closing in, he has disappointments reminding him, there was more he could have done, he is getting the reminders of eternity, as the dots of old memory join up, why didn’t I notice he sighs, his eyes teary. The door opens, and the old sallow skin changes in color, the eyes brighten up, as love enters the room. Isn’t that so easy to do?