Merlin --> History or Legend

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Merlin --> History or Legend

Post by Spirit-Being on July 4th 2009, 5:32 pm

Merlin --> History or Legend?



Merlin, sage from another world, was an inspiried seer and mystic mage, a wise councilor and faithful friend to the three kings. But for all his wisdom, was bewitched by the Lady of the Lake who turned his love to her own ends. She sapped his power and plundered his store of secrete knowledge, and when done, she bound him in stone by his own spells. Merlin, sometime Myrddin, was the famous wizard in Arthurian mythology. So powerful was his magic that one medievil tradition credits him with the magical construction of Stonehenge. Another of his works was supposed to be King Arthur's famous Round Table. Enchanter, wizard and prophet who oversees Arthur's conception and birth, enables his ascension and acts as high counsel to the King in the early phase of his reign. Merlin's role as a whole is that of advisor and scholar. His genius guides the realm. Geoffrey of Monmouth is responsible for the Merlin known to literature today. His name, "Merlinus," is a latinized adaptation of the Welsh "Myrddin" - the name of a late sixth century northern bard reported to have the gift of sight who predicted a Celtic uprising.

Merlin's birth was the subject of a strange story. Apparently, the Britons were told that a great fortress they had built would never be safe until the ground there had been soaked with the blood of a child who had no mortal father. Such a half-human sacrifice seemed impossible to achieve, until it was learned that a beautiful girl was with child by a demon. The child turned out to be Merlin, who though baptized as a Christian, still possessed fabulous powers inherited from his demon father. Somehow the boy did not need to be sacrificed for the sake of the fortress because it is likely that Merlin was able to deal with the problem by means of magic. Two dragons, as a matter of fact were responsible for the problem. There were various accounts of Merlin's death. One tells how the wizard forgot about the seat at the Round Table that only Galahad could use, being the only knight worthy enough to see the Grail. Merlin sat down and was at once swallowed up by the earth. Another story blames the wizard's death on his passion for women. Either Viviane, possibly the Lady of the Lake, or Nimue, the daughter of a sicilian siren, imprisoned him in an enchanted wood after Merlin had explained all about the secrets of his own magic, As Merlin told Sir Gawain, who once passed by: "I am also the greatest fool. I love another more than i love myself, and i taught my beloved how to bind me to herself, and now no one can set me free."

Merlin's Story is one that is very interesting & intriguing lets start a discussion about this Magician we all call Merlin. Was merlin a real figure in History or was he some Tale passed on through generation?

If you find some information on the web that will lead to the truth of who merlin actually was please feel free to share it with everyone.

Many Blessings

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Re: Merlin --> History or Legend

Post by Wind-Dancer on July 4th 2009, 6:33 pm

Merlin, a man, or just stories to amuse everyone , myths, legends, or tall tails such as Santa Clause or the Easter bunny. Like the real King Arthur who was (really a 6th century ruler) transported through time to better fit the needs of the populas. The 'transporting' begins in and around the 15th century. A man by the name of Thomas Malory felt the extreme need to give France, his country, a hero(s) in a time of great disappear. He felt it necessary to do this because the feudalist time in which he was living in, was slowly dying. He thought that if he could show people how many great hero(s) came out of this time period it would revive and flourish once more. He then turned to history to find such a hero. As needed to remedy the situation he found King Arthur of Britain. Even though a English man or a Britainian, he was said to be the best ruler to date (1500's.) Now that King Arthur has been chosen and changed a little to fit in with chivalry, part of feudalism he now needed a teacher. Researching even further he found a Druid priest by the name of Merlin.


Druidism is and was a religion that delt with nature. There temple, church, meeting place, what ever you would like to call it, was a grove or thicket. They made sacrifice of animals and offered wheat, rice, and other grains. It was believe that Druid people were magical or even demons and monsters of some sort. Merlin was (as said before) infact a Druid priest. Merlin was a thinker and a very wise man. It was said that Merlin was the son of a demon, his father was not very popular man so to speak. He was a count and was not loved by his people for his choise of religion. It was also said that he was all knowing and all seeing. For this reason hewas choosen and hand picked to be a part in the Legends of King Arthur. He was estimated to have lived some time in the 4 or 500's. So now the whole process of transportation has been explained

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Re: Merlin --> History or Legend

Post by mia on August 27th 2009, 2:50 am

Merlin was the first guide I knew consciously I had.
He was an impatient one and handed me over to another pretty quick lol.
Since then I have met a soul sister who also knows Merlin, but much closer.
Merlin found her lost in woods as a toddler and brought her to me to foster.
When I heal/operate, Merlin is among those who surround the healee.
I believe he is in a paralell world to us.

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Re: Merlin --> History or Legend

Post by Spirit-Being on August 29th 2009, 5:19 pm

Very Interesting Mia, here i was looking for written answers and you show me an experience, how could i overlook this. I am truly grateful you have shared this experience here, it has opened my eyes. I do try to look to peoples experiences for truth, an experience is real no matter who experiences it. Merlin truly is Divine...

Many Blessings

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Re: Merlin --> History or Legend

Post by d-knots on August 30th 2009, 11:48 am

well....

I love Merlin as he has been portrayed
but I love the essence his character sends out
it's a message of belief in his magic....

the movie MERLIN better focused on that essence

the model is a good one
he is protrayed as Spiritual
and Human; possessor of natures' power
and bound by emotions and reasoning
so he is the Faith model the one
turned to for answers of the untangible or unknown.

Merlin can be played up to be good
and played down to be bad....

I tend to look for something that is do-able...
because bad and all-bad would end my life as I know it
I lean toward the bright light of knowledge
so Merlin has been portrayed as a part of life's knowledge
as Spirit is a part of everyday life for many folks still today...we hope.

I think he is legend even if his character was portrayed on
a real human who lived long ago. For a Storyteller its one
thing and can be called legend though for a Bard they were supposed to
be relaying facts even when sounding far fetched.
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Re: Merlin --> History or Legend

Post by Spirit-Being on August 31st 2009, 12:20 pm

d-knots wrote:well....

I love Merlin as he has been portrayed
but I love the essence his character sends out
it's a message of belief in his magic....

the movie MERLIN better focused on that essence

the model is a good one
he is protrayed as Spiritual
and Human; possessor of natures' power
and bound by emotions and reasoning
so he is the Faith model the one
turned to for answers of the untangible or unknown.

Merlin can be played up to be good
and played down to be bad....

I tend to look for something that is do-able...
because bad and all-bad would end my life as I know it
I lean toward the bright light of knowledge
so Merlin has been portrayed as a part of life's knowledge
as Spirit is a part of everyday life for many folks still today...we hope.

I think he is legend even if his character was portrayed on
a real human who lived long ago. For a Storyteller its one
thing and can be called legend though for a Bard they were supposed to
be relaying facts even when sounding far fetched.

Good Point d-knots i look at each and every one of us here on earth we are in a process of growth and understanding, i am sure Merlin also went through these same trials of life, so to say he was Bad would also ring untrue with me, i do not see magic as being bad, not even a person, only through their intentions do they create Create Good or Bad outcomes. A thought just came to me Spiritual Warrior not sure what this means but it refers to Merlin the Magician, or Merlin the Divine.

Many Blessings

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Re: Merlin --> History or Legend

Post by mia on April 11th 2010, 5:12 am

I am a member of a spiritual circle here in my hometown.
Our leader took us into a meditation to meet our main guide.
Along came Merlin to me.
She asked us to be shown where he lived.
Merlin showed me planets, stars, the universe.
I was confused.
Then our leader asked us to ask our guide how he died.
Merlin is not dead.
He said he is over 4,000 of our years old.
He travels the universe guiding people with energy/paths like mine.
He says we are dotted around he universe on many different planets and planes.
I talked to him for ages and wanted to carry on, but I was brought back along with the rest of the group.

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Re: Merlin --> History or Legend

Post by sweet green ginger on August 27th 2010, 11:18 am

Hi, I like these kind of topics.

I believe I have channeling ability. Often I will check thinks up by googling to see if it could be possible.

A name for Merlin that I get sounds like "Meh-harg-mway-n' but more quickly said together and kind of an ug sound in the middle like a gutteral accent. I googled around and found that there are Welsh names that are related to the Merlin name like Marwynn, Merwynn, Myrddin and so forth.

A year or so a go I looked into Merlin stuff via channeling and found that he was like a sales rep sort of, for aquired jewels and ornate jewelled pieces. He was from a wealthy merchant family. It was via his travels on the road that he came into what was termed a 'spiritual inheritance'. I just had a brief look at the wikipedia story for Myrddin Wyllt (a possible Merlin) and he had possible other Italian sounding last names like Silvestri and Caledonensis. The house of merchants or perhaps the family name I got a year ago was 'Modinas' but of course, I don't bank on this as fact and it may not have been his direct last name but more of a house of family type name. He was no scum and although not a nobleman, they were of an affluent merchant status and he could easily call to any noble house. They were also sort of mobile bankers.

He would take his showpieces to these noble houses in Britain, and I'm not sure if it was in London or what seems like Laudgandon, or similar. Another place was what I would spell as Brochwyn, but perhaps known as Boorley plains. I googled and there is a Boorley green in Hampshire or somewhere and this feels right.

Anyway, I think the name that I get for Merlin is really just a version of his Christian name, which I think is Maximilian. Again I googled, and it said it was a made up name but then somewhere else there was a 3rd century (or something) Saint by that name and I think this is in the direction of where his family would choose his name. Because the family had business alliances with Africa, Asante in particular, and this Saint (Martyr) had some kind of African connection too. I think the family had some kind of Roman connection originally but they had become a mish mash of origins as the family married within business ties with other merchant and entrepeneurial type families and he had Saxon strongly mixed in to his blood line.

I just thought of a question: how was he able to show costly wares of jewels and metal to noble men and women whilst travelling around. It seems he had a sort of body guard from the Barbary coast. But for his stuff he had a system. Their little chest of goods would travel with some kind of an official band of horsemen that ran messages, luggage, goods, noble people etc across places. Sort of like a live train that nobles could use to move themselves or stuff with but you had to have the seal of appoval from some head honcho, Earl or someone.

Anyhow, I barely believe all this myself, so please don't feel I expect consideration for its validity. Could be a load of trash. Tears

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Re: Merlin --> History or Legend

Post by sweet green ginger on September 8th 2010, 11:41 am

Hello, I started to write the story about when Margwyn (?) stumbled across his 'spiritual inheritance' but we had a power black out from a terrible wind storm.

Anyhow, I will write a couple of paragraphs. It sort of sounds like a fiction novel or maybe a dream of mine so make of it what you will.

It was in high summer when the whyst whites were easily seen in and around the reed beds. (Whyst whites are ghosty things not flowers as I initially thought nor what we call santa clauses - the dandelion seeds in the wind - but yes not either of those). Margwyn was chronically dehydrated, malnourished and had been bordering on insanity for 2-3 years since. It began at an accommodation place that they stopped at on the road near Malgarry, (Bryn Nevis or similar (?)). It was not really an inn where they had stopped but more of an armory, and site of rearming, replenishing as well as drink, food etc. Margwynn and his offsiders at this time were only after boarding for a few days. Others at the armory were semi guard, soldier types but there had been a shift in politics, and a small group of strong agro types were throwing their weight around and looking to start a nasty mess. And so they did.

Safe to say, he had been knocked out cold by the butt of a sword and lay where he had been flung in a jumbled heap under some upturned benches. When he came to, the room was very bright and he couldn't really grasp the state of things. There seemed to be hurt people and maybe even worse and he realized he was hurting very badly. He vomited, was extremely dizzy and came to a little better after having a bucket of water slung over his head. His cheek had been split open up high on the side of his face and on the other side he had a severe swelling on the side of his eyebrow. He also had pain in his ribs and felt distressed when he breathed. He thought for a minute he might have been scalped because his hair and scalp felt different but really most of it was due to having been heavily clutched close to the scalp in one hand by a huge and horrible man, while he was belted on the other side of his head where his cheek split and then was thrown off to the side by his scalp.

The two that instigated the water slooshing were an old man (well probably around 58) and his son but the boy was about 15. They had been travelling with Margwyn as did a few unrelated people who had banded together for company and protection. They had missed the drama because the old man had retired early in sort of a box behind the main room and the boy had sat on the floor near the box with his back to the wall. They were just out in a small darkish hall spot that led to a small bedroom for the maids to sleep in and a toilet area and wash spot.

(Gawd, I thought I would progress more quickly through this but don't think I'm going to last out the account). I want to skip but feel I have to provide detail.

Anyhow, the boy wanted he and his old father to remain with Margwyn, because Margwyn was only 27 (well it was his 28th year). The story spans from 641-691 (and that is the numbers I get, take it or leave it).

Margwyn couldn't be bothered with anyone though and he was frankly annoyed with the old geiser because he had thought Margwyn was an inbred and had insulted him. He thought him an inbred, because he had curly hair, in braids and his skin was quite brown. The teenager thought he was 'a garn freak of a chocolate one' (these sort of translations are the closest I can deal with in meaning so that was probably not the actual words but more the connotation). Anyway he thought along the lines that Margwyn looked cool and interesting.

Anyhow, skipping now, Margwyn initially tried to return to his activities but within weeks he had become ill, was living on the road in a poorly way and was suffering frequent nightmares, daymares, freakish unsettling incidents, was poor in spirit, lacked trusted friendship and would also get quite intense headaches. He slowly recovered from physical illness but remained up until the opening lines of the story, in fear of his life.

Back to the opening lines.

He was chronically dehydrated, and had scant possessions. He kept a flint around his neck on some reed twine to chip at rat skins to prepare the meat. He had acquired a dog, that was a little rabid too, but had become warily attached to Margwyn. Margwyn thought enormously of the dog, but it was really unfounded in general comparison, because the dog gave very little comfort and would rest some distance from Margwyn and would only sneak in for food bits and then just as quickly get back. Margwyn's days were spent finding food for the dog.

The only water in the 20mile expanse were the reed beds that he kind of just lived around as a source of food and water. He drank only when he was really thirsty because he hated the taste of the weedy mud water and it stunk a bit. There was a water course to the beds but it had dried out and was now just damp earth. He felt trapped in the area because for several months there were encampments in a few spots outside the low circle of hill around him. He would go up every day to look over the surroundings. I'm not sure if he hadn't got into a state of mind that the threat was always present but wasn't actually there. I think it had been and occasionally there was activity but he was sort of sick of mind.

Anyhow, other people knew he lived in that area, and they would sometimes leave him things but he thought it was from some magical people and sometimes thought it was his own food that he had had to leave and was only returning to. He was not a well fella.

Moving on, a kind messenger group, one on a horse carrying a flag, and two others along side, like scouts, came and found him and were pleased to see him because they had been sent to offer him an invitation. He thought that they were asking him to be their prince/king because he thought that is what he really was and just everyone had forgotten about it. But as he climbed up on the back of the rider, he felt ashamed and began to realize he had been living strangely. As he listened to their conversation he realized that he had been lost in a way and felt very dumb. He was trying to remember what he had been actually doing and he recalled all manner of strange goings on like crawling around on his hands and knees in the black of night because he thought he had to find a key and various treasures somehow concealed in the landscape.

He looked at his hands in comparison to the rider's and he saw his own as bony and brown and the nails were yellow with what looked like permanent greeny black edges. He thought at that moment, these are not my hands, and felt suddenly frightened because he felt that he was in someone else's body.

He had been sought for sometime by I think that Earl who approved the living train for transporting things, because I think Margwyn had supplied him with some kind of drugs as well. The Earl had only recently heard of the possibility that the mad hermit in the 'grainwen' had some connection to the bandy bomlets ( but that is not the term). The bandy bomlets or similar is a close contrivance to the feel of the Earls slang version of what he called Margwyn's family of merchants and their employees. The term is something that represented their unusual manner and looks. Anyhow the Earl heard about the hermit through a very serious young man who had some connection to the church and was considering whether he would get serious about it as a vocation. The man was fed up with most women and couldn't see himself married and having to take up position in his father's estate. The problem was, though he liked the idea of the church for some religious aspirations, he was tempted by the growing status and there was the temptation of political power. Anyway this man had the hermit living in the vicinity of his homelands and had heard various tales from his tenants that the hermit was the culprit in any missing livestock or free quarry numbers. But this wasn't the case because Margwyn mainly lived on beetles, grubs, lizards, some rats (but he tried to get those for the dog because the dog wouldn't eat much else), also birds at times and he would on occasion devour the contents of a chirping nest whole without any second thought, oh and he ate his own snot (eek!) as a matter of course.

Anyway, moving on, he didn't keep travelling with the messengers and just escaped one night. He wasn't under duress to stay, and pretty much the messengers had thought they had been a godsend to him. Anyhow, he couldn't be bothered with it. He had begun to 'wake up' though, and probably as a result of their contact, he began to remember that he was a pretty great guy.

Finishing off for today, and I have probably irritated some of you with my audacity and bored some others to tears - well, yes finishing off for today - A verse:

Translation: "Half-God, take the ills from my eyes,
bow down no earthly man before you,
but take me, not as your bride, but as
your brethren.

I billow a consternation of streaks,
take it to you, I am happy for that,
I will give you no cause for annoyances,
I know what marks the dog on heat,
and this sufference for you will be whisked
away by a smoke of this fine blast."

(And so he inhaled the smoldering wafts from something lightly ignited and cupped in his hands, still green)

He was happy and he was clear. The verse was kind of a jocular bit of verse, more to his growing sense of self again. He could now discern connections and brightness in moments that when strung together began to make life very interesting.

Der-dah!







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Re: Merlin --> History or Legend

Post by sweet green ginger on September 11th 2010, 7:08 pm

I was writing this 24 hours ago and accidently used this web browser to search something on the internet and consequently lost my words - it will be interesting to see if I get the same wording.


"Cymres, [a journey took to me a long horned phaedron]"

"Neg, a vas bost [could] na vest of yorn brettony tor qua," he laughed.

Thankfully, Tominas and Jobi took no time in becoming firm friends. Tominas was a long lost cousin of Margwyn's. Long lost in so much as he had been exiled from the district that Margwyn grew up in because their fathers, who were brothers had fallen out in sullen and long term disagreement.

Cymres [or cheminye] was a tailor that took to him apprentices to learn the fine work around neck lines and cuffs. Tominas has been put on a wagon and sent to the tailor with enough currency [some kind of precious stone - pewter black and glistening - onyx I think] to equate to a year of tutoring, instruction and catering.

(I initially thought that the extended family of Margwyn had the status of wealthy merchants. I expected them to be wealthier than having to learn trades, and they didn't afford servants in general, save for maybe one or two. But I am thinking that at this time wealthy was what they were as opposed to the less affluent. They were free of servitude and they were able to house themselves and have business.)

Jobi was an errand boy and had been with Cymres since he was seven. He was now ten going on eleven. His parents were reasonably local to Cymres but were basically estranged from Jobi, and Cymres was known as his master- as if he were assigned to him for life. Jobi swept the floors and maintained the tailor rooms order. He also packed items and delivered. He would over time be expected to develop kitchen and laundry duties and be generally the house manager.

In the opening lines of this posting, Jobi esteems Cymres by saying something to the affect that Jobi had fortune smile on him by giving him a great and insightful master. Jobi was of a state of mind, as one who has grown up in fear of what might become him if he doesn't stay on the good side of parents and master, and so he had become what he sensed to be, a pleasing 'ward'.

Tominas returned, '[connotation: you wouldn't be able to distinguish a bulls head from its fly blown ar*e {a**}, you white wicker basket!'" And for this he was silenced by a cold and silent stare from Cymres which had the affect of chilling bones - safe to say Tominas, raised himself from his stool and without word folded his sampler carefully and bent to his knee reciting prayers of forgiveness. He was in no position to evoke the ire of his father by being cast out by the tailor.

Margwyn, was not known personally to the tailor, save for the family as being the same of Tominas. Jobi and Tominas, despite Tominas's independence of mind, were to be intertwined in Margwyn's story.

(This is not what I wrote yesterday, but does highlight a point on the 'wealthy' merchant status - and has shown me why Margwyn's reminiscence in a state of delirium took him back to a reasonably humble abode where he lived as an eight year old.)



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Re: Merlin --> History or Legend

Post by sweet green ginger on September 16th 2010, 7:01 am

Reminyl, is a drug today that [takes away from, not gives to, as they believe it does do, to all sorts of degeneration in brain nerve 'cooperation'].

In text reference: Cholinesterase is not concomittant - the inbetween, neurotransmitter is actually acetylcholine's predecessor, so the messages are still inappropriate - they just get a boost which forces relay to another 'epicentre' - there is much confusion in the role of cholinesterase with respect to its preferred action. A cholinesterase inhibitor such as Reminyl is part and parcel the solution to choreographed relays of nerve transmission. The trust placed in the inhibitor is ill founded and eventually promotes disintegration of emotional reception. (Maybe)

And its application to this Merlin story: Cranberry juice, berry squash, berry sorbet, berry fruit strips, berry ice cream, berry jam, berry cake, pickled berries, berry brandy.....berry pulp... Are the best at combatting the neurodegeneration to conditions of brain disease. Reason being: the purple-white (?) colour vibration localises a range of very effective chemicals, anti oxidants, that take up toxins, convert mutations, and trivialise disintegration by normalising and flourishing the cells with what could be termed a gel of iniquity - otherwise, acids that clamp down inappropriate cell response.

And its application to the Merlin story? 'Contaminant' wants to be allowed his head to advocate all sorts of health contemporary evidence, and dispel any of those who would wish to dispel this 'aquisition'. Bravo for he, but he is not truly for me, he is hell bent on a diapause ie. he has nothing to do all day but to sit and wait for amazing tales.
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Re: Merlin --> History or Legend

Post by sweet green ginger on September 25th 2010, 10:55 pm

going back to the opening lines: Margwynn in chronic dehydration....

He had taken to lying within the patch of cool spears of amarylids adjoining the reed beds and chewed thistle (the origins of the whyst whites - not dandelion as I had mistakenly thought they derived from).

Sufficiently, there were signs enough to indicate that he had developed broncho-pneumonia and was battling with respiration by the hour.

He drew himself up in a miasma of wavering vision, to try and make his way to where a friend lived in the glade.

Jester-right man was not diseased, now, but had permanent disability within a right crooked leg and a heavy left arm. He had suffered polio as a three year old and had survived despite neglect due to his poor prognosis.

Riffel-cor, a raven, landed on the flagstone at the door of Jester- right man's small house. Jester prided himself on being capable of communication with birds and rodents, and with having an affinity with reptiles. He had begun his knowledge of non-human language with a pet-duck, that motivated him enough to follow and strengthen his ambulation.

Riffel-cor, a reasonably faithful attendant, would alert Jester to any approach within about 800-1000m.

Jester had no interest in debate, nor any goods to provide any sworn corps...understandably he was anxious - his frame did not predispose him to any show of majesty physically. Taking up the small bone spear he concealed it in the sling, positioned over his good arm, leaving the poor arm unslinged. And he waited.

Nothing was sincere enough in Margwynn's vision but as he stumbled and wavered onward, his nose kept his feet on a trajectory. In the glade where Jester lived there were many egrets nesting round about and leading down to the edges of the shallow lake. The dung and damp nesting materials of the egrets imbued the setting with a distinct smell of ammonia. And he welcomed it because it gave him some relief in his passages.

Jester-right man, so called because of his trippling antics, supposedly, but really just him trying to walk and conquer hillocks, tussocks and brawny patches, was not settled now but awaiting his friend's traces to come up to the door. He had recognised that slinking, languid rolling gait before and was happy to see him but annoyed at Margwynn's appalling conscience for a lack of moderation.

"Gran [hype - like a hailing word], a glarn testes [called you down for a whishing {and a pounding too, I am sure}]. Agamemnon, [the cruel plant lord, took a spading to your frame and belted you one], cag a rision au frisian! (meaning, that plant you are smoking is f***ing you up, you dag!)"

But no, as Margwynn stumbled across the stone he collapsed heavily with some cracking in the door way. Jester was diverted in his attention, he still thought Margwynn was under the influence and was generally irritated by his abandon. Jester had spotted, 'a cimles' the cunning little mouse that had been divesting him of his spring seeds, who had just popped in through an almost unseen crack between window sill and wall. He was rarely seen but left much to suppose about his intelligence because Jester had done his utmost to trap, to confuse, and to trick the mouse but to no avail. Jester took up the sliding bar for the shutter laying against the wall and in one considered but too rigid swing he thumped the sill, whilst snagging his toe on the uneven flooring. Damn mouse, had got away again, and he took some moments to regain his presence in the moment as his ire, so bottled, played havoc with his cognition.

Aarggh....he expelled his pent up frustration, turned and took in his friend's wan expression and unhealthy tinges. Not good.

Margwynn, in his mind, was battling with an irritation like a fly buzzing around his neck and his ear, but it was actually something more sinister, death creeping into his senses.

And now here he was, he thought, back in his father's home. His father. Brunweichles (or similar) had just alighted from the cart after having been away for several days on a trading round. He had been peddling contracts/shares in mine wares - ores and similar and was quite exhausted from keeping vigilance over his mobile station - with only himself to secure his livelihood. But he was a big man, and his countenance spoke of slight of hand, with no remorse, to slice a throat readily or to take an ear if so inclined. This only when he was nearly out of his mind, in general he was a man of principle, but once half deranged from threat or stress of dwindling business he would become a demon and promised unwholesome outcomes if contested.

And sadly, the only servant that he had, to help his wife and tend his farmlet in absence, was a man of confused ethics. Jansen, a man of 19-23 over his time in employ there, would not hesitate too much to redirect Brunweichles' attention to something other than himself - just as a safeguard. After all, returns were rarely pleasant due to the heavy competition and creeping ills of age for Brunweichles. Jansen, when asked for an account of the time of absence, slighted Brunweichles wife and gave a hint of a suggestion that she had a 'dander' here abouts and had become ensconced in a few not too discreet dalliances.

Brunweichles, thanked him politely, constrained but with the effect that he had considered this divulgence meritable. He finished his unloading, without word, he even scraped the mud off his boots and brushed them before entering the house.

And as he entered he took up his axe which hung faithfully at the ready in the small entry room before the kitchen, and he called, a greeting, albeit a little too flourishing in emotion. Then as he entered the kitchen, he took in the scene, a domestic haven, simple but clean and orderly, and his wife sitting at the table mending a leather pouch, his son, Margwynn the youngest of three brothers, survived, with sickling ones that did not survive in between and a shrivelled life of a little sister that had ended some three and half years ago. Margwynn, barely taken in by Brunweichles surveillance, was resting on one knee, with his other foot planted on the mat, and he was pulling thread through a spool and contriving a trap for small animals.

Brunweichles, in all honesty, was no match for these two. His agitation far surpassed the pack of hounds distress over not being able free liberty at a full burrow spilling thirty conies. He took two storming steps and hurled the axe into the thick oaken table leaving a large cleave that compromised its future.

He screamed, "[Have me taken for a fool would you?!] A camex o vosterog las aven baseque found def oeregen bas-elequen vostoner es (meaning you suit yourself with any wayward d**k that wanders in/points in your direction, do you?)".

And as he speiled the tirade he took in a moment of his wife before him. Valaisy was not even 38 yrs old but her appearance could put her 20 yrs on from that. Her thin lips were pulled into an expression as one would have after recovering enough from crying and upset so as to proceed and not draw attention from further tears. Her cheeks were flaccid an her eyes showed the bottom rims and highlighted her pupils sitting more in the upper half with a large expanse of greyish whites between pupil and rim. Her body slumped when seated, was thin in the shoulders, and wasted in the chest. Her abdomen to the skirt waist was round, her hips wide and her legs were spindly. The greyish straw like strands of lifeless hair barely covered a bony scalp and were pulled tidily under a cap of soft brown chamois. The thin bony finger of her left hand circled the fingers in her right like a tight clamp. She made no sound, but averted her eyes briefly to the pot of good food simmering on the castlereagh iron over the fire, as if in some gesture to appease, and to assist in some kind of reasoning.

Brunweichles, began to laugh deeply and unhampered, "A genre overture a blackend topist dank [very] rocantre es vesicant( meaning, are you kidding me [Jansen], my senses are duped by your crap)", laughing still, "clandes, [your shocking image is a crime], tannes rolande burset, [and frankly not, capable] yissen durs beseldimer corinnde! haha haha....(meaning, no guy out on the troll for a bit would in his right mind see you as anything more than something to hawk and take a spit at, hahahha...)"

And with that, he threw himself down, jauntily into a chair and reached for the basket that covered a chunk of cob bread in the centre of the table, ripping off a chunk and snorting as he ate with gusto and good humour.

"Gemme verig e [bowl], tastes nor senit-el, I blackend (laughing again) a bovost ech a brun [like me], hast a nogen tepperen a lois a derven [terror](meaning, throw me a large bowl, I'm hungry enough to kill the beast and stuff it with myself as I eat it from the inside out. Hopefully it as good as I know it normally is, if I'm spewing later, (sorrowfully now, and quieter, I won't blame you [Valaisy] I know you warrant yourself as a capable cook, someone to match me in my own capablilities - you suit me well)"

Margwynn, used to these terrible scenes, had cordoned off something in his feelings and he avowed never to take a wife lest he might become as brutal and horrific as his father. He would change his mind though, he had been nurtured by his mother to care about hurts, unlike his father's own mother who had discarded any sentiment that spoke of softness.

Margwynn, still unconscious was being deftly tended. Jester knew that his sick friend's life was close to giving its last puff before extinguishing and making it impossible to revive thereafter.

Jester began to call, with song and with mind. He was calling Olandes, a dark arts man that could pull shapes from air and put them in the palm of your hand. He was sometimes available to Jester, though Jester did not fully understand Olandes language or his motivations in the aquaintance. He seemed amiable enough, or rather, unthreatening enough. He had shown Jester how to repair, to good effect, the limbs and wings of his feathered friends and what plants and materials would assist the healing.

Olandes, travelled with his mind, and with his body across great expanses, usually by night. He had what is known as familiars, and they had been altered by his calling down of central figures to conduce an allegiance within their small frames and conscious parts. One such familiar was like a dog badger, and the other was a sapling tree. The tree assisted him to connect to places distant through other saplings of the same make up. The tree was a beech.

Jester-right man was calling Olandes, and to do this he was telling the birds that would listen.

Olandes, was already there, it was no feat to him to have knowledge of all circumstances that had interest to him.

He sent a response, a sheet of what felt like a change in the weather. Jester was aware of the change and recollected instinctually that suggested to him that this was indeed a response from Olandes.

Olandes was coming, but his body was twelve hours away. He sent forth a swathe of penitent spirit ahead of him to try and assuage the death stalking vigilant. Olandes was quite bemused by Margwynn, and had kept abreast of his conditions since before the conflict at the armory. Olandes could take Calgary by storm if he warranted it. He was capable of more than many of the heroes in the Greek legends, why?, because his poor beginnings had sent him out of his mind and back again with much rapport with the annals of the heavens.

Jester made preparations and did what he could to comfort the wasting shell of Margwyn. Riffel-cor attended and maintained a regulated chorus.


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Re: Merlin --> History or Legend

Post by sweet green ginger on October 1st 2010, 7:58 pm

Summer is spectacular in the northern lights...no one is particular to his creed, to his dream sequences...no one is close to him...enough. These are the musings of Olandes as he jogs along, huffing and puffing.

Rough sorts down in the southern regions of this here land; 'Calamus ergraffen gloster heinaminke...[bastard]' (meaning, the dragoon, Doleus Stagerbein (or similar spelling) is a hot guy for chicks and f***ing has it all over us country bumpkin, poorly dressed, skinny pr*cks.) Damn him - he continues to muse over things...(He was basically, thinking on competition and possible options etc as he traversed country).

Olandes thoughts were never too far from considering his strategic position to 'honey' women. He was generally in preparation in deed and thought to seek opportunity to be with women from 19ish to late 30s and beyond. Essentially, if they had the right 'feel', attractiveness and shapeliness, age didn't matter but he preferred women aroung the 30ish age. He himself was 33, and generally not what I thought him to be.

He would sun his genitals and generally plan all sorts of casual meetings with receptive women all over the countryside - in his head - in reality, meetings with available women were sporadic, and just didn't come together as often as he would have liked. He had to be careful, both morally and safety wise that they were not part of some guys life.

He had plans to keep a permanent woman but couldn't see that he would find someone who could tolerate his nomadic lifestyle as well as be good to have around. He didn't like to be distracted when he didn't want to be, but generally he would have appreciated a woman or even a young guy (oops) to share a meal with and to talk about everyday stuff (like, look at that, did you remember..., and do you feel better, etc). But generally would like to have a female body on hand, like one might like to have a hot motorbike etc.

For some reason this sexual orientation is important, because I went to write down on paper my next addition to this story a few days ago and it clarified the orientation of Jester- right man, Olandes, and Margwynn. Maybe these ideas are too much for this thread.

Generally, Olandes was hetero in his passions but would not say no to maybe something from the same sex if he got the same kind of interest sensation. But really women kind of made him feel crazy love attraction kind of stuff.

Jester- right man had blocked women out of his mind, under a large label to the effect of 'don't look at them, don't register that they exist, and tell yourself that you are like two different species that have nothing to do with each other like cats and dogs.' He saw women as sort of ill boding witches but had known that some were possibly gentle and sweet. He looked to males sexually, but not really with a homosexual attraction but more like that was all his mind encompassed as a sexual partner, and if there was any sexual activity it was kind of like offering after dinner mints, sort of like an adjunct to the day/visit. He was also limited in sexual positioning so generally followed a routine that was generally successful - but could contribute a bit to an underlying depression. He was severely wounded in his physical confidence and tended to be vigilant on who he permitted into his sphere of privacy of living and in any intimacy. He probably would have liked a wife if he allowed himself to ponder it, but he never thought of this as possible from their perspective - he didn't think he qualified as a man option in women's eyes. He thought if he wasn't vigilant, a woman might end up in his life and he might just suddenly kill her or something out of fear, disgust or just not wanting to deal with her. Jester is 43.

Margwynn, again surprised me, though generally hetero in kind of long term orientation, he was not perturbed by some kind of release between men and was actually casually involved with Jester in this, but it was sort of a means to an end, so to speak and was set apart from any romantic feelings or real passion.

Anyhow, there, I've written it now.

I thought Olandes was going to be some kind of mid to late forties guy of few words but much wisdom - I think this is what he will become over time. At 33 he has much skill in Scandinavian shamanism, but he is still youthful and kind of, not timid, but sort of fluid, and non-confrontational with others. He is sanguine on the inside but the outside would see him as lithe, quiet, and watchful. He possibly could become mentally ill if his freedom was restricted - wandering through landscapes keeps his feet on the ground, and his mind capable to see connections and have spiritual awareness without unbalancing him.

His childhood memories have a lot of fear within the dark winters; and there is confusion still over events and circumstances. He went out of himself to be able to deal with trauma related to various things all pertaining to severity of living. He imagined or was part of an experience with a boat in a dark and terrible storm. I think he lost his father in this manner and took the retelling of the story by others, on as his own experience. He was motivated to have influence over the weather and the sea.

He has a 33 year story to cover ten large volumes, because the details of his journey in skill aquisition and life experience is so particular, deep and full that I can only sense that I don't have the energy to be drawn in to explore them. There is a lot of high excitement surrounding years of discovery and its too much for my mind to be able to 'translate' them in to meaning that does them justice.

He has tattoos, 'of conscience' (meaning, he has taken on a familial role and took up the marks to indicate this. He didn't particularly like the burden associated with the role as it is a lifelong commitment but felt he had to honour his heritage and his particular birthright, sort of). I say familial but it is more like the predecessor finds the recipient through signs and inner knowledge, and it is like a family of this role through time. The predecessor to Olandes was known as an uncle, and was connected to the father's father, he may have been a cousin of Olandes paternal grandfather. Some things are never fully clear - I don't know why, I'm thinking it is because there is some kind of shame/dishonour over the connection, or that the information is not to be clarified.

His role is difficult to 'translate'. It like he has to retrieve the sentiments of ancestors and stay true to their insight. He has to faithfully afford this insight its rightful consideration so that it might continue. In order to do this he has to teach what he feels he must teach to a protege.

He came away from his water world home land, on the spur of the moment, well it would seem that way. He sort of had the opportunity to travel by boat a short distance then he sort of had a series of rapid opportunities after that, that just seemed the thing to do, and he sort of skipped like a stone across water. When he got to Britain, he kind of went feral, cammed up and was wearing skins and furs and sort of spent a few months exploring like an animal would, from shrubbery to shrubbery.

Anyhow, that's all I am writing for the moment.


Last edited by sweet green ginger on October 1st 2010, 8:06 pm; edited 2 times in total (Reason for editing : forgot to finish the sentence)
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Re: Merlin --> History or Legend

Post by sweet green ginger on October 2nd 2010, 9:37 am

Margwynn's (spelling has picked up another 'n') eyes were rolling but he was coming round. He felt like a baby. Olandes had slit two full size egrets and wrapped their open bodies and wings around margwynn's torso, hips and thighs. Then he had bound Margwynn and the egrets in a piece of cloth from Jester's bedding. Jester was disgusted and had left the room - sitting outside whittling the ends of fencing stakes. It was morning and the weather had sun shining through mid grey clouds. There was thunder and lightening coming and he recognised the potential for imminent flooding.

Olandes kept glancing out in Jester's direction, trying to coax him back in - he didn't want Jester to be out of sorts. Jester had few possessions and was grieving for the counterpane that was now stained beyond all help of recovery for its former home comforts appeal.

Jester was also grieving for the egrets. He felt like crying - his beloved neighbours - the egret colony. Olandes refused to be sidetracked by these sentiments. Worse still, the egrets were still alive, their hearts still pumped as Olandes had skillfully dissected the sternums, almost perfectly, whilst maintaining their inner covering that kept their organs and innards intact.

Their beaks were held shut and their sight and hearing were bound. Margwynn was not conscious of what he had laying around him but felt firmly wrapped and comfortable. He still felt quite separate from his body as it lay sort of heavily away from him.

Olandes was feeding him small dribbles of '[cleaning] wickserns' a concoction of dried orris, tubers of inskargharsens contained in peat (rubber weed), melabonamas (?) (liverwort) and some frog spawn (to absorb toxins and to attract an immune response - and obtained forcibly from what is known as a 'cobin's frog' but that is how it is pronounced and it would be spelt cogburn or similar - and I can't find it on google.)

Jacamein (or Jacquiem), a stollard chap had also arrived and was stoking the fire and providing light relief with his stringed mouth piece. He had happened by when he noticed fresh tracks heading towards Jester's house and had come for a sticky beak as there was very little break from the monotony in the area. He had a wife with twelve children somewhere, but now lived quietly and secretively behind a mill and maintained the water wheel. He had left his family because he had fallen into debt and had been summoned to a hearing. He wanted to bring his family to where he was but thought it might be better to remain absent - after all what good would he be dead or burdened by repayment. He had left his family some six months ago and had no word or knowledge of them. In actuality, his wife had encouraged a cowherd to take up residence and she had kept four of the older kids with her to do dairy work under her direction, while the little ones were being cared for by her parents with supplemental dairy products and visits on an occasional free afternoon. The two eldest, a boy and a girl had left home. The boy to a blacksmith and stone 'machinist' and the girl had been taken up by a marketer's family that sold cheeses and other products fashioned from milk. She was pregnant to the marketer's eldest son - for which her mother was joyous about, though all were a bit nervous whilst waiting to see the reaction of the marketer and his wife.

Olandes stroked the back of Riffel-cor and crooned softly along with the musical accompaniment of Jacamein. Margwynn, began to chuckle in half-delirium as he fell into a deep sleep. As he descended he was met with nightmarish scenes and began a traumatic session of fighting off awful creatures who expected too much of him. In his distress, he cried out "Hergel finder besk colinserdar (meaning something to the effect of I'm here Hergel and I am your worthy listener) and at that moment Olandes seated beside him cleaning his own fingernails replied confidently, "Langidden bolsj hev nocht balan dihr segendorj (or similar) (meaning, oh don't worry mate we hear you and we are certainly going to give you a headful of gear for you to look after (kind of cynically, and inferring: but you may not like your allegiance to this at times). And in this, Olande was qualifying his quiet confidence in taking Margwynn under his wing as a rightful recipient of his own particular assignment to a tradition that had been divulged to him.

Jacamein, had not noticed the change in inflection. Jester-right man had though and as he swung his head around to try and glimpse a view of Olandes, he noticed that the room had changed. Olandes was now standing tall above Margwynn and was casting invisible threads across him. Jester could sense the power shifts in the room and knew that Olandes was performing some kind of rite that held claim over Margwynn and tied his very survival to the stewardship of Olandes.

Margwynn was now in his 31st year (still only 30), and nearly the same age as Olandes. He recovered from his nightmares, was given ale to restore him and was pounded on his back and sides to loosen and then cough up the rubbish on his lungs. Olandes then rubbed his skin with linament and clothed him in his own woolen shift. The poor egrets had been laid on a stone. Olandes was not callous about their sacrifice however, and had dutifully paid respects to the germ of their origins and the spirit of their caretaker. A burning stake cauterised their pulsing hearts and freed their sensibilities.


Last edited by sweet green ginger on October 2nd 2010, 9:38 am; edited 1 time in total (Reason for editing : two not to)
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Re: Merlin --> History or Legend

Post by sweet green ginger on October 14th 2010, 7:47 am

Se campanum, [brother, I have nothing to for give you to]
Se campanum, tables a grande pesque, a pour Arnaud Clasignon du bresnes
(meaning: a black god of a man is sitting right on his cusp, damn it, and he's not budging. He is thinking this is ill-fated but might turn to his favour. Orcem Nezzer [dracames Nebuchadnezzar] is looking deeply into a whorling port. He can't make out his [heritage] (?). There is this fellow on his camestron-easter...his meridian going from centre of left palm, spleen? then right shoulder )

{I don't understand this at this stage}

moving on....

allez-cos, arbiner dors...

A ringer leaves his keep
never tending, tending, tending...then sleep.

He has no indigestion, there is no [reflux up to his throat]

The cat winds lightly tendrils taken down from the moon goddess's hair,
O fig, my cacky part in this (or similar)
is...let me see...hmmm...
Tabloid, I see it now, a bricket (a lean-to made of salty pine or similar)
full of riffen castrates (monks but of an ancient and unpopular order),
and I a brise (broken down) holis -

{he breaks off in crazy intensity, he's half mad with rage...the lean-to full of castrated monks is a metaphor for his own interior. He's a bit scary to me...well a lot scary to me...perhaps I am finished now}




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Re: Merlin --> History or Legend

Post by sweet green ginger on October 14th 2010, 7:53 pm

I wonder sometimes if these things are in for dramatic effect, I don't understand most things.

Anyhow, Orcem Nezzer, is an interactive person for the here and now, and he is open to questioning ( I don't know what sort of answers you will get). Might not make sense because I have to have a degree of resource to be able to understand and if I don't have some familiarity I might not bother with it or I might misinterpret it, I google most things of other languages to see if I can get a rough idea.

The relation of this to the Merlin idea: Orcem is a soothsayer/medium/trigonomist (maths stuff, correction, branescence...accolinear - not... trechear, hmm somewhat...stachys abberant, yes - meaning he can jump into freeze states and still remain conscious and alive, whilst his mind rifles through etheric equations/configurations/concurrencies pertaining to events, manifestations, probability...some kind of metaphysical alchemy to the nth degree).

Anyhow, he is helping me, he knows everyone personally...he says

He shall begin,

The subject: clasped hands, eyes full of worry,...astern

Avris (Avis), [why have you not come into this class before, if you are what you say you are then you are practically {life member} status] (he bores of these things...so frustrating)

To the subject again: [Take] Allos Aga Fevre (Second eldest brother, craftsman/smith)....Ecoumene d'estre au queroche abele qu'ordan perimanes (permian ?) (meaning something perhaps to the effect of 'to cut it short you can be a time honoured pillar of the ...whatever it is that you want to be involved in...I dunno does that make sense?'

I will send this but I can't be bothered with it anymore.
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Re: Merlin --> History or Legend

Post by Spirit-Being on October 16th 2010, 2:38 pm

Thanks sweet green ginger

What stood out to me was how you mentioned:

sweet green ginger wrote:I google most things of other languages to see if I can get a rough idea.

I think it's great that you open up, and do your best to gain some understanding of a language itself.

I was very interested in Angelic Script for a while as well as Hebrew, i looked at the Symbols and Writings and like you have tried to get a rough idea of them.

I enjoyed reading your posts Very Happy

Many Blessings

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Re: Merlin --> History or Legend

Post by sweet green ginger on October 16th 2010, 7:36 pm

Thank you Spirit-Being, that is so interesting, I too have a fascination with things Hebrew.

I am supposedly in the ninth order of angels - can't believe it though, and have googled that as well. I haven't thought about it too much in case it feeds my superiority-inferiority complex, haha. I certainly don't know angel script, though I do have a want to decipher some texts. I can't personally do it - its only if it is enabled to me, and then its still up to my limited brain power to try and bring it down to a reasonable explanation. Somethings are very forthright, even complex ones, so I don't know why everything just can't be simply put to me to begin with - perhaps I'm under education, teehee, or perhaps nothing is black and white.

I am currently getting much synchronicity and prompting to do with Hermes Trismegistus. You mention Thoth. I have always had an almost fanatical desire for the hermetic life. Currently transiting Neptune/Chiron is exactly conjunct my natal Merlin, though I don't seem to have anything happening concerning natal Hermes.

Anyhow, on what you have written about your prior interest in the scripts/symbols (I thought I may as well give Mr Nezzer a whirl):

'Admonishe, a la, a la, debauche (phff), calais versette (haha), terimaste' [well, (looking around)...he ain't here] (Meaning: something to the effect of, I've been shafted, [i'm just a french dribbler, not even that, [never mind me](and I think Nezzer is Turkish)] , terimaste(I don't get why this is used but refers to Trismegistus).

'Besem ech malak abech ech pel [agronomy]' (*this is as close as I can get the phonetic spelling, and means something like: Rack them up and bowl them over, cut the chaff and use it for fodder ... um mebbee it is cut the bull sh*t, teehee)
'Ark-el [arnica] bechalam-ahkbahad sech [stamp it out, an abomination]' ( meaning that Collard's script, what the [hell] is it, was it written on a child's play stone) (*I'm totally not sure about these interpretations I'm giving btw)

'[Terror of the Isles - Setan (satan) allah usurps the bark men of Collard's myth/stories (*Collard is a modernish (1840s) relayer of myths, I don't know who Collard is)]'

then, 'Begel-machs (the bark men) taking a huge gamble, sold out their territories, countrymen, segments of oasis and rights to strips of luscious areas, to gainsafe their kind of place of honour in some kind of army that intended to drive out all Egyptian Gods and make a monkey of anyone (well actually not make a monkey of, more like slaughter) any infidels]'

'Sagis, ag-mecha mel amkhalar-dem tel abas ech hamel chaim ech-kabul' (meaning, the true spiritual archons, took a tip, and they knew it was coming anyway, and they rallied all their betrayers, double dealers and dumb wits to them ie. their congregation, haha, and they called on all the authentic demons, higher order 'angels' (I guess they were) and sprites and things, in like a huge vigil which combined like all sorts of (brackish term: black crap) spilling up from the metaphysical recesses) and they kind of dumped it on Abel Chaim of Kabul or is it some guy abel who lived in Kabul)

*Egads, I am skimming this stuff, and feel like I'm not getting anywhere, I don't want to give a wrong impression so I will wrap it up now...sorry*

Basically, this guy called Abel from Afghanistan had to sort of look like a british traveller (?) and take his camels and stuff over to Israel and become some kind of prophet...poor guy, then um he set up office sort of as the high priest of what was to become the Hebrew religion and this was about in 2500BC, (*wow don't bank on this, I am totally unreliable as a relayer)

So yeah basically the goodish guys called for a prophet and they got one, and everyone was heaps happier. The takeover thing sort of fizzled but remained in the background and the bark man sort of scattered and became criminals and stuff...and the point of what I am relaying this for is:

the Hebrews do have authentic scripts that do have knowledge on the angel orders and the dynamics of beings, and there is some kind of Russian link from the 18th century as well. what is worth pursuing is some Hebrew scripts translated into Egyptian and vaulted in somewhere. Are they called the Papyrus somethings...of Ani, yes, I think that is what they are. Is it the Egyptian Book of the Dead, anyway looks like they are in the British Museum. Anyhow, these authenticate much of what most people are wanting to know...and I'm not sure what that is, haha.

The Russian thing is to do with, what is that word, I think it is in Catholic stuff, the Versitterati, like Glitterati, I'm not sure what it is, anyhow some kind of female Russian saint person is authentic in her representation of what she relayed. There was something to do with the Boljsheviks, and anyhow it was sort of like a psychic portrayal of angel archetype/ancient remnants of these purish beings. But you won't be able to get a viewing of that, just keep it in mind for ten years time.

Wow, I just read that back - so confusing, don't know if it is worth anything to you Spirit-Being. When it is vague like this I think the reason is to inspire not to outline; to provide a lead not a text to live by...which is probably always for the best really.



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Re: Merlin --> History or Legend

Post by sweet green ginger on October 16th 2010, 7:38 pm

I thought you mentioned Thoth, might have been on a thread I read earlier.
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Re: Merlin --> History or Legend

Post by sweet green ginger on October 16th 2010, 8:14 pm

The catholic word is 'illuminati'. I could see the sensation of the word and some images like light catching particles around a person. The particles reminded me of glitter, but I knew glitterati was that celeb word.
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Re: Merlin --> History or Legend

Post by sweet green ginger on October 17th 2010, 6:54 pm

That Collard person,

two things: _ collard is also known as colewart, a cabbage green vegetable

I can not be certain, as I have no green light but Collard could relate to Crowley, Aleister Crowley of the Golden Dawn, which would certainly tie in with things, or

_ can be sort of a cryptic crossword solution to Aleister Crowley's real name, Edward Alexander Crowley.

Also, the seer of the Enochian Angel Script, if I'm right in my haphazard and unthorough research, was Edward Kelley (or Kelly), possibly also connected to the word Collard, seeings though that Collard is also known as Kale, which then cryptically ties into the name Edward Kelley.

Problem is my date was roughly 1840s but Kelley was in the 1500s and Crowley wasn't born till 1870s or something.

Also, Orcem Nezzer, though the broad feeling is Turkish, I get the direction that it is more Armenian, for correctness





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Re: Merlin --> History or Legend

Post by sunmystic on December 26th 2011, 1:31 pm

Interesting topic Spirit-Being. There was a group of people that practiced a nature religion that was before the Druids. These folks were healers and powerful so called wizards and they worshiped The Mother, which we now call Mother Nature. Today's legend calls these folks the Fae. Both the Druids and Christianity, which replaced the Druids, considered these folks demons. Because the Druids were into human and animal sacrifice and these folks were not, they helped the Christians defeat the Druids which resulted in Mother Mary being an important part of the Catholic Church and Pagans not being held libel under church law, with the understanding that originally a Pagan was considered any person that worshiped The Mother and was not into human or animal sacrifice (those that were were considered witches and warlocks and of Satan). Folks like Merlin was claimed to be, did actually exist and still do even though they are now quite rare because most have wondered off to somewhere else along with the rest of the Fae. I carry their genetics (a lot of people do) and most of my yogi training is based on their system of so called wizardry.

Anyway, Arthur's sword was real and how it was made and tempered under primitive conditions can be explained once one understands that the lake was full of heavy water that was the result of rain evaporating out of a limestone pool over hundreds of years. Because the sword was real and folks like Merlin were real, I am inclined to think that there was a real Merlin.
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Re: Merlin --> History or Legend

Post by mia on March 16th 2012, 2:15 pm

Of course there was/is a real Merlin!
He is strict and funny and firm and reliable.
But he don't like folk who are slow or don't try and help themselves.
The term 'doesn't suffer fools gladly' comes to mind.

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Re: Merlin --> History or Legend

Post by Spirit-Being on March 18th 2012, 2:17 pm

Merlin has always been to me very charismatic and mystical but i do love that Merlin was known as great Wizard Wizard

I love what you wrote sunmystic it's quite interesting to know more about the histories. It seems there is much more to what we know from our histories where our beliefs and understandings seemed to come from. Everything seems to evolve cultures adapting and reinventing new ways of beliefs and insights into the great mystery of life and creation.

One thing i found exceptionally interesting is how you connect with Merlin mia, i find this fascinating and so outside the box which is my comfort zone. You seem to Inspire me to look further and experience things in a whole different way.

Mia wrote:The term 'doesn't suffer fools gladly' comes to mind.

This is taking some thought, it reminds me of the quote "To thine own self be true" which was one i really needed to contemplate to understand it better and how it relates to me. I will give this some more thought.

~Love, Light, & Blessings~

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Re: Merlin --> History or Legend

Post by laura ann on April 3rd 2012, 9:53 am

In a sense Merlin prcticed hoodoo

not voodooo that is the summoning of spirit energies etc..

hoodoo is the use of herbs to conjour ...Merlin is I believe to be real and since we do not actually die of course he is still maneuvering around ..overseeing...

Merlin practiced the laws of the universe and of cause and effect.

The sword I also beleive is real as in those days of long ago the Gods interacted more with humans ..

Now we are too populated and we humans have evovlved to the greedy show me a miracle lot we have sadly become.

One thing about spiritual people... can you agree that the majority of enlightened humans have had lives full of loss and low monetary means. Struggling to survive this century and yet maintain a spiritul life at the same time. How many rich spiritualists have you ever known of other then the ones who write books they shove down peoples throats full of strictly their interpretation of how things are.Which does not make them accurate.

Books are like opinions... many of them out there. and actual truth may lie in a combination of them all.

Back in Merlins century life was hard.. yet they had in some ways a easier time of it. They had no modern conveniences we have so they communicated better.. joined together to do things.. had more family and neighbor time. This in itself would make more harmonious energy fields. They lived with nature and from nature.

We on the other hand need stimulated and toys and expect a grocery store to have the bad for us foods we like. and then we wonder why we can't get spiritually right.

Are we in the better times actually.. or were they?
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