The Red Cockroach Speaks # 1
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My mentor, counselor and spiritual guide the Black Monk, Santo Nicola, also known as the Shadow Lord has instructed me to partake in these commentaries that reach across all the dimensional realities of the fateworn , uber and mundane worlds. I’ve also been instructed to cooperate with all the minions, underlings and leaders of Heaven, Earth and Hell concerning the apocalypse commentaries so that all of the players in this multi- universe are made aware of its prime histories.
For those who are interested; my name is Jeddiah Sendalay of the Morningstorm Clan also known as the Red Cockroach and in the mundane worlds as the Anti-Christ. I will be a frequent contributor to these psychic journals as will most of the major players that have shaped this Apocalyptic Age. There are 66 apocalyptic glimpses or snapshots with an ensuing commentary in each that will be made part of the historical record. So Pay Attention and Open Your Eyes!!!
Witness and Behold: here’s a tapestry glimpse of a major event concerning the Black Monk and Myself (the Red Cockroach) with some poetic prattle from those sanctimonious delphinium heaven huggers reveling in their fanaticism …
take a deep breath
hold it- hold it- now slowly
Don’t you taste it?
Don’t you smell it?
Can’t you feel it boiling
and bubbling inside of you
Purge yourself from evils taint ~
Take a dive headfirst
Into the clear sparkling waters
of judgment and redemption
and drown in its purity and innocence
and if you survive its cleansing
you shall then become part of the
-The Redeemed-The Soldiers of God-
whose mandate is to
Cleanse the World
and the evil
that they bring
(from the “Book of the Dolphin” attributed to the Dolphonic Sorceress, Tessa Del Bellasuna , also known as the Blue Dolphin)
Jeddiah awoke from his death sleep choking and gasping. The air in the sarcophagus was nearly depleted and if he didn’t receive a fresh supply soon; his death would turn from hoax to reality. Never one to panic; he slowed his breathing and lowered his heart-rate and mentally chanted one of his favorite Mantras, “what is done is done what will be will be” and awaited his fate, be it death, or continued life. As he was near his last breath his thoughts drifted to a time when his mind was clear of the visions and voices that dictated his movements and actions and when the burdens of the world were on someone else’s shoulders. A faint smile formed on his lips, and a tear fell from his eye, as he remembered dancing and making love in the moonlight with his Krista, and both thinking that they would be together till the end of their days. But fairytales do end and his ended on the day he met the Black Monk. If only he was something other than what he was? He would then have been spared that fateful meeting and instead of a life filled with constant struggle and conflict; he would have had a happy and contented one with the love of his life.
He was startled back into the present as he felt a rush of air invade his nostrils and saw the Black Monk, Santo Nicola, standing before him. Before he could say anything the Monk lifted him out of the sarcophagus, laid him down on the floor and unwrapped from his body the preservative cloth that bound and covered him from head to toe. “That was a close one; those damn idiots wrapped you too tight and barely left an opening for you to breathe”. Jeddiah could only nod in agreement as his head was still mummy wrapped. Finally free of his bindings and able to breathe freely again he stood up on wobbly feet and gave the Black Monk a quick hug and said,” I thought I was about to meet my makers in Hell and for a split second I was even looking forward to it “. The Monk gave Jeddiah a quizzical look as well as a cuff on the head and said, “You would have received a chilly reception by coming in as a defeated prophet, empty handed or without knowledge of where the Greenfire Tapestry is hidden. My dear child, I know you feel the weight of the world is on your shoulders and you think that it is crushing you, but that cannot be helped, for you are what you are, The Prophet. It is written in the weave, it’s your destiny.” Jeddiah Sendalay of the Morningstorm Clan, also known as The Red Cockroach, shrugged his shoulders and asked the Black Monk to open the portal to Avalon. It was time that he and his nemesis (the Blue Dolphin) meet face to face…
Apocalyptic Snapshots #3 (Appendix C of he Tangled Tapestry)
This deception, the faking of my death, that I perpetrated upon my people and the world, may not have been my finest hour but was a calculated action that was required in order for relations with the Blue Dolphin and all the Morning Clans to be reestablished under favorable conditions to myself upon my resurrection. But the more immediate reason was to quell the appetite of the Beast by sending its little beastie bastards back to iTs lair thinking that iT was completely victorious and successful in poisoning the Prophet, laying it eggs, weaving it webs and sucking the forces of the First born of eaRth and Heaven dry.
The Clan Wars , The Apocalypse or the thousand other names that it was or is called between the Dolphin, Myself, and the Beast and Its Horseman is, was and will always be (or so we thought) an eternal dance that occupies the weaves of the Second and Third Tapestries. We both believed,(The dolphin and myself) that the weave couldn’t be rewoven, rewound or undone. We realized almost too late that we made a tactical and near fatal mistake by believing our fates were determined, static and unchangeable. This attitude made our ideological, religious and political beliefs divide us, our call to destiny blind us, and our need to war with each other consume us. We lost track of the other forces around us and the damage that they could inflict. We both misjudged the Might of the Beast and the damage that It could do to the Tapestry that was already spun. We both needed to act before iT devoured us both and ate away at the weave leaving us both weakened beyond recovery and ready to be picked, plucked and ready for the pot. We needed to put aside our differences and animosity towards one another, at least until the crisis abated, and fight and if need be die as One.
And there is also the matter of the Green Tapestry. We both need to find it, hopefully together, and hand it over to Our Shadow Counselors. For it is they that need to decide what to do with it as only the Great Powers and their Shadows can work the spindle that weaves the tapestries. The power of that missing 13th Tapestry is its fluidity and malleability- Those who gain possession of that Tapestry can control the Fates (the hands of GOD) and The Dreaming God It Self by weaving and spinning an end to the old story and a start of a new one, editing the story that we’re in or erasing it completely. All the 13 Tapestries will be open to rewrite. A chilling thought…
Jeddiah Sendalay of the MorningStorm
warning warning.. Jeddiah is not from this dimensional reality so for all intents and purposes concerning this mundane world he is just a fictional character....
nature weeps, the devil sings
at man’s greed and pride
and what it brings
just lots of useless
"He was the brightest of all the stars
of heaven, and even ripped and torn
in half, he still shone with a fire of a
billion suns. With a mighty roar
and a Big Bang, he imploded and
exploded out of the nothingness; and
the flow of Time began.”