Myron Fagen’s “The Council on Foreign Relations”

Posted by Mantra Hand on March 20th, 2015 filed in Labyrinths
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A very interesting look at the “think tank” that is the Council on Foreign Relations. Mr. Fagen goes into the history and background of

an organization that has been described by the John Birch Society as “guilty of conspiring with others to build a one world government”.

The Marble Corridor

Posted by Mantra Hand on February 21st, 2015 filed in Labyrinths
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The Marble Corridor3843373459_6690a12d7f_o_thumb.jpg

The Marianas Trench

Posted by Mantra Hand on February 21st, 2015 filed in Labyrinths
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The Marianas Trench FINALE (1)039_thumb.jpg

….the dead shall rise

Posted by Mantra Hand on July 22nd, 2013 filed in Labyrinths
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There is always a way back. But sometimes you go so far outside the boundaries that it takes that much longer to return.

from prison.

Posted by Mantra Hand on September 3rd, 2012 filed in Labyrinths
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Posted by Mantra Hand on April 21st, 2012 filed in Labyrinths
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There is only the barest flickers of light once you take a wrong turn and end up where I am (wherever that is in the grand scheme), and sadly I’ve ended up some place where the bones of old memories are housed, or at least familiar objects. The question is, how is that possible? By definition R. seemed to me, at least up close, a conglomeration of many women I knew from the past and present (future?), as though by some miracle or mysterious force the very elements of my previous perceptions of women became one being. Then I began to think my mind had began a slow disintegration into a type of nothingness, because no rational person can have these ideas and actually believe them.


Posted by Mantra Hand on April 3rd, 2012 filed in Labyrinths
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Posted by Mantra Hand on February 1st, 2012 filed in Labyrinths
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                                                            (The Door)
The Door always swings inward, for that is what I’ve been told in the past, the distant past, by those people who have crossed over the threshold. Those same people never returned. Their voices come to me through invisible means known as the Muted Horn*. The entrance to the Door is always changing. Keep that in mind if you’re ever trying to find me. This is as much a guide as it is a story, so listen carefully. All that preceded these pages was a preamble to a disappearance alluded to at an earlier time that hopefully fell into the hands of my biographer. I’ll begin by giving you a survey of my thoughts at the present time. My location is unknown, even to me, but I dare say that I’ll be liberated. I should probably begin with a dramatis personae of sorts, even though the players are few and the stage is small.

The Muted Horn is unreliable, but I’m not going to get into the aspects as to its nature. That my friends is a difficult task that even I’m not up to. In saying that, the Muted Horn may have been responsible for my current predicament, not to mention the appearance of R. into my life. R. is the epitome of the grand gesture, the terra incognita, and the femme fatale. A combination that is rare while at the same time deadly, though not in the physical sense. I had hoped—perhaps naively and obsessively—that opening the Door would lead me to her again. But as I began to search her out, I began to question why I would want to find someone who had caused so much chaos in so little time. The point cannot be stressed enough that Midtown is a place that forever remains foreign, even after decades of within its walls. R. was very much the same way—elusive, of unknown origin, destined to remain a mystery even after a lifetime in her presence. My time with her was limited—though often it felt like a thousand lifetimes—yet despite that fact, like the Door, much more opened up for me…For better or worse.


Posted by Mantra Hand on January 22nd, 2012 filed in Labyrinths
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Diary (10)

Posted by Mantra Hand on December 12th, 2011 filed in Labyrinths
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The Tagus glistens and I wonder if Overbeck has slipped under the sheets with Madeleine after her visit to me earlier this morning. The house was almost irrepressibly silent, which tends to be quite unbearable for me in foreign cities, for one does not know what spectres may lurk about. Perhaps I’m being slightly , what is the word?…I cannot place it at this moment. One expects the master of the house to return today sometime in the early evening. I have no intention of returning until then. I brought a book to read, but my mind is not in the proper frame for contemplation.

My only thoughts drift toward Madeleine. She is a very liberated woman. A little too liberated.Still, she has a gracious charm that is strangely infectious. How her attitude will change once the master returns remains to be seen.