I got a strong calling to go and speak in Edinburgh late last year.
The good people of Common Knowledge Edinburgh via former head-teacher, Cat Taylor, who I had met previously at the Great Awakening Tour in Birmingham in May 2022, had been in touch and I accepted the chance to get back to my former stomping ground in the land named after the Egyptian Princess Scotia and the home of the infamous Scottish Rite of Freemasonary.
(there are many differing opinions about this, but if you want to go deeper look up Scotichronicon, by Walter Bower (1510) and the works of Michael Tsarion (The Irish Origins of Civilisation: https://amzn.to/3wpjM0V).
The Egyptian connection was not lost on me, neither on the journey there, nor on the night itself. This is the mural on the wall opposite the Taxi Club in Edinburgh. According to the club manager, the whole building is set for demolition soon. I couldn’t find much on it online, so if anyone has any interesting information about it, please leave notes in the comments?
I would like to thank Cat Taylor, Jim, Adam Westwood, Richard Ennos, Matthew Wilson, Wendy and the others that I met and helped make this talk happen (apologies I can’t recall everyone’s name, you know who you are). Groups like this are popping up all around the world and are making a massive difference to their local communities whether they realise it or not. On an energetic level, they are mainly populated by starseeds that are holding the light whilst we go through this transformation process and I, for one, value everyone that participates in this way wherever you may be.
Our trip took three days in total as I had decided to drive from the West of Ireland up to the port at Larne, near Belfast, take the 2-hour ferry then complete the drive North East through the Scottish countryside.
I wanted to do this drive because (a) I hate the bullshit in the airports, (b) because I believe in enjoying the journey and (c) because I have such fond memories of experiencing the emotional and spiritual shift in power of the landscape when I first travelled to Scotland by train from England on the way to a survival training week in Grantown-on-Spey when I was in the RAF at 18 years old.
Getting lost in a storm in the Cairngorms, putting up a tent at 3pm to hide from the wind and waking up in 3 inches of freezing cold water is not something you forget in a hurry.
The drive was spectacular, particularly the last 90 mins into Edinburgh. I was struck by how little traffic decided to take the scenic route, so we had the roads, the mountains and the snow mainly to ourselves.
My first experience of this drive was back in the 1990s when I shared a motorhome with Bryan Glancy for 6 hours on the way to my first Edinburgh Festival. Bryan was my irregular badminton partner, a lovely friend and an amazing singer songwriter. The last time I saw Bryan was at Hovis Presley’s funeral in June 2005. He gave me a huge hug and said we should catch up.
He was dead himself 7 months later at the age of 39.
Bryan had often told me stories about his time in Hollywood in, what he called “Hell-A” or “Lost Angeles”. He hinted at some of the shit he saw there whilst he was pursuing a record deal, but never went into full detail. Suffice to say, it affected him profoundly, and not in a good way. I didn’t know then what I know now. Bryan was a beautiful soul, and I miss him. Here is his song “Manchester”, which reminds me of our many evenings in the Night and Day Cafe:
We arrived in Leith with just an hour to go before we were due to meet Cat and the Edinburgh Common Knowledge team for dinner.
Our AirBnB was not quite as comfortable as advertised and parking in Edinburgh was obviously not going to be a simple task. I was almost immediately accosted by an Eastern European sounding man who was violently shouting at me because he thought I was going to nick his parking space. It was deeply unpleasant and reflective of the general energy I was feeling since arriving in this illustrious city. There was something dark here.
We swiftly relocated and enjoyed meeting the awake souls that formed the real welcoming committee, and the energy started shifting favourably.
The next morning after a few too many wines, I took a stroll down Memory Lane to the Grassmarket…
Hovis was also an angel in my life. When I’d stopped performing to set up a business and then start a family, I bumped into him shortly before he passed on in the Manchester Comedy Store. He said “You need to get back on the stage, Mark”. At that point, I’d already learned the hard way about how fickle that career was unless you sold your soul, but to appreciate the tone of voice he said it in, I’ll share one of my favourite poems of his here:
The night before, Cat’s husband Jim had recommended a place on the Grassmarket called The Last Drop (named after the location for hanging people in the not-too-distant past) for me to get some Haggis, Neeps and Tatties.
“Neeps” is Scottish for parsnips (or swede), “Tatties” is mashed potato and “Haggis” is the national dish of Scotland, a kind of pudding made up from the liver, heart, and lungs of a sheep, minced and mixed with beef suet and barley and seasoned with onion, pepper, and other spices. The mixture is packed into a sheep's stomach and boiled.
You might feel like Sean Connery after reading that last sentence, and I wouldn’t blame you, but when in Rome…
During this gastronomical delight, where I paused my generally carnivore diet to delight in the oxalates once more, I felt the very strong urge to visit Rosslyn Chapel, a mere 30 minute excursion from the City Centre in my trusty old Land Rover.
I had never physically been there before but, as I pointed out in my talk later that evening, I had been due to run a tour there with the brilliant Michael Feeley some months earlier. Michael told me they blocked us from going when they found out who we were, so that tour never happened.
So, it was time to see the place for myself. Then, this happened:
…which was extremely interesting. I mean this is Roslynn, a place which proclaims itself to be proudly the home of The Holy Grail, Cloning (!), The Da Vinci Code, Bovril and Dolly the Sheep…
I can confirm the food was indeed good. In that pub at least.
I didn’t try the Bovil.
However, my take on the cloning is that cloning has been going on for far longer than any of us realise and Dolly was but a cover story. That’s my intuition, I don’t have any evidence for this.
I was shocked to realise the Dolly story was over 30 years ago too! And that she had “children” - I wonder how many cloned sheep there are in the world now?
Source: https://www.google.co.uk/search?q=dolly+the+sheep
It seems the suspicion about human cloning was shared by others many moons ago too, but digging into this now is beyond the remit of this article.
Source: https://www.nature.com/articles/nm0399_253a
(Interesting he used the term “elite” farm animals in this quotation)
So, I walked around the Chapel for shits and giggles, laughing at their apparent desire that I never set foot in it. I mean, what actual threat am I?
Of course, it could all be a coinkydink, but I’ve been at this too long to believe in those anymore.
Some people on my social media channels said I should wear a disguise, or maybe not advertise that I’m going somewhere like this. Well, I’ve long since known they know everything about us, including our geographical position, our intentions and more, for a long time. That’s why I’m not afraid to use Whatsapp and why I hardly bother with VPNs etc.
They’ve known who we are before we were even born, so I hardly think a blonde wig and a hairy moustache is going to cut it.
Leaving Rosslyn behind and thinking ahead to the talk, I did what I usually do before I stand on a stage in front of strangers without a script or any idea of what I’m going to say: I meditated and asked for guidance from my spirit guides and Angels to help me achieve what I wanted to achieve: inspire, entertain, educate.
I also knew they’d be some trouble makers at the event - I don’t mean hecklers, I mean witches usually. They follow me around like a bad penny casting their pathetic spells on me.
In Anaheim, we had 10,000 witches set upon us by the spirits of Obama and HRC, would you believe? This was according to one of the spiritual team on Truth Tour 2 and something I confirmed at the time because of the 1000s of faces I could see screaming at me behind what looked like a thick glass wall every time I closed my eyes immediately after that final tour date.
I could feel that this was not going to be easy, so I called in as much protection as I could and armed the Translator device with the intention of clearing all negative energy. I meant to take my tuning fork and quartz crystal too, but managed to leave that behind in the hotel room like a numpty.
Indeed, whilst I was on stage I was attacked. You can see in the video that at 36 mins 46 secs I was out of breath and complaining about pulling a muscle. The pain from this was excruciating. It felt like my Latissimus Dorsi was on fire and it was causing me to pant and sweat with the pain. You will also notice my voice started to become hoarse. This was something I’d also experienced at a Huna Flash event in Ireland in 2022, after which my voice was operating at less than 50% normal strength for six months, including my 17 dates on the Truth Tour in America.
Attacks like these have been consistent throughout my life, and in particular since I started speaking out for truth properly in 2020. My knowing is that it’s part of my job to soak these energies up, because I can take it, which effectively distracts them from fighting on other, more important fronts.
As soon as I realised I’d spoken for 90 minutes, at least 30 minutes over what I thought was my limit, I cut the talk short because I knew the organisers wanted to run a Q and A. I thought they’d be a little break so everyone could get a drink, and I was very pleased to have a number of welcome pints delivered to me while I completed this task too.
After I’d finished talking, there was a line of lovely people queuing up for a signed copy of my book, God Wins. I’d not thought how to accept any money for this as I didn’t have a card machine and there’s very little I could do with Scottish Pound notes in the West of Ireland, so I just trusted people to email me over the weekend for bank details.
One of these people said to me: “You know you were being attacked, don’t you? They were trying to cut your wings off”
Now, I do not profess to be an angel or anything other than a middle aged man that refuses for his children to grow up in the New World Order, but I' think it’s time I shared experiences like this with you, my amazing subscribers. Make of it what you will.
Epilogue:
On the drive home, my former girlfriend Claire Cognizence kicked in while I was joyfully breaking the speed limit somewhere on the A76 and I suddenly realised there was a link between Roslynn and Roswell.
Ros!
This was compounded by the fact that only a day later I was having lunch with Ireland’s foremost Astronomer and UFO expert, Eamonn Ansbro.
See:
…whereupon Eamonn stated that he used to work for the Russian State Space Corporation, Roscosmos.
I said “Sorry, did you say ‘Ros’ Cosmos?”, to which he replied “Yes”.
I paused for a moment, then realised both Eamonn and I had a calling over many years and through many coinkydinks to live near Boyle, which is a small town in the West of Ireland.
In a county called…
Roscommon. Or, Ros Comain in Irish.
The flag for which is uncannily similar to the colours used throughout the COVID psy-op and those of the Ukrainian flag.
According to the excellent blog of Joachim Bartoll:
“The coronavirus psy-op relied on blue and yellow, and the sleeping masses has been conditioned with these colors for a long time, as we will explore in a minute. The blue color induces trust, authority, honesty, and responsibility, while yellow induces energy, happiness, optimism, and confidence. Yellow is the first color you notice and it stimulates the mind, making you more suspectable for programming, while blue is the second most powerful color. When combined you get the feelings and subconscious message to trust and be optimistic about the ‘honest’ authority communicating to you.”
Read more here: https://bartoll.se/2022/03/blue-and-yellow-in-psy-ops/
Coinkydink?
I think you know what I think by now :-)
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