We, now, are in the days of darkness.

All: of lost. No: anywhere: light. Stasis: uber alles. Limbo: all. Of consciousness: complete cessation. Stopped. Nothing: nothing. At all. Even time: ceased to be.

[video:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IqZE9WAYND0]

For we are in the days between September 3rd and September 14th.

When, in Britain, and in Britain's colonies (of which then "America" was then a part), there, in the year 1752, the Julian calendar no longer came to be.

As the Gregorian calendar did, in those dark no-days, replace it.

And, thereby, between these calendar sheets, were gobbled up those days. September 3rd through September 14th. As if they never had been. Which: indeed: they never were. They were simply skipped over. Never occurred. Never did Be. For to get from the Julian, to the Gregorian, those ten days, they were simply eliminated. Those days, that we are living in—in worse than limbo—even now.

Gregory XIII, he was of the rat-bastard form of pope.

For Greg's idea of a good time, back there in the 16th Century, was to celebrate a mass that exulted in the slaughter of 30,000 people in the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre. Greg dispatched both troops and assassins to Great Britain, to get after Elizabeth I. And also swarmed, like sand-fleas, both spies and missionaries, upon the shores of both Japan and the Philippines. He additionally ordered that numberless tomes—lost to us today—fry in that papal lake of fire known as the Index Of Forbidden Books. And he especially liked to persecute Jews.

This utter ass also decided to muck with the calendar. Because he was grumpy that the Julian calendar was "too long." In that it treated each year as 365 days, 6 hours. Rather than the "more real" 365 days, 5 hours and 49 minutes. And, as a result, Easter had, over time, "moved" . . . which made Big Hat Greg so crazy, he almost had to rush into a nunnery, and there sire another bastard.

But instead of again spraying sperm, Greg came up with the Gregorian calendar. And, in doing so, decreed that, in order for time to get in line with his new calendar, ten whole days—October 5 through October 14 of 1582—would never exist. Everyone on the planet would just skip right over them. They would be non-days, never born. October 4, 1582, would be followed by October 15, 1582.

So Greg had it written. So had he it be done.

The common people, there on the Continent, went wild. Regarding this Gregory time-travel as simply a ruse to rob them of a week-and-a-half's rent. The church was always about ripping them off; now, the thing was actually abolishing whole days. And just to steal their money.

Various different-one peoples—outraged—refused to recognize the Gregorian calendar. Sometimes for many centuries. The British, as referenced above—and always suspicious of anything arising from the Continent—held out till the 18th Century.

But that was as of nothing, compared to Russia. Where Julian still held sway, till came the Bolsheviks, in 1917. Who then decided that they might as well overthrow time. Since they were overthrowing everything else.

[video:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MzvlivbptXk]

Both the Julian and Gregorian calendars tried to ground themselves in when Jesus of Nazareth was born. But, before he resigned the papacy in a fear-frenzy that everyone around him was stone-mad on communion-wine and wildly diddling little boys, this millennium's previous pope, Joe Ratzinger, the ex-Nazi, wrote a book in which he baldly admitted nobody really knows when the hell the Jesus dude was actually born.

According to Rats, the Wrongness and Confusion began with one Dionysius Exiguus, a long-ago diddler rudely dubbed "Dennis the Small."

"The calculation of the beginning of our calendar—based on the birth of Jesus—was made by Dionysius Exiguus, who made a mistake in his calculations by several years,” the Pope writes in the book[.]

"The actual date of Jesus’s birth was several years before."

Dennis the Small, who was born in Eastern Europe, is credited with being the "inventor" of the modern calendar and the concept of the Anno Domini era.

The monk’s calendar became widely accepted in Europe after it was adopted by the Venerable Bede, the historian-monk, to date the events that he recounted in his Ecclesiastical History of the English People, which he completed in AD 731.

The Bible does not specify a date for the birth of Christ. The monk instead appears to have based his calculations on vague references to Jesus’s age at the start of his ministry and the fact that he was baptised in the reign of the emperor Tiberius.

So nobody knows what year the guy actually popped up. And all the calendars are Wrong. And meanwhile the December 25 date for Jesus’ birth, is just shit made up, a transparent attempt, there back in the day, to accommodate pagans already accustomed to partying each year on the Winter Solstice.

"There is no reference to when he was born in the Bible—all we know is that he was born in the reign of Herod the Great, who died before 1AD," [Professor John Barton of Oxford University] told The Daily Telegraph. "It's been surmised for a very long time that Jesus was born before 1AD—no one knows for sure."

The idea that Christ was born on Dec 25 also has no basis in historical fact. “We don’t even know which season he was born in. The whole idea of celebrating his birth during the darkest part of the year is probably linked to pagan traditions and the winter solstice."

Also in his book, Rats snarled that those who claim Jesus was born in Nazareth—which he was, rather than in Bethlehem, as the song would have it—are heretics, who in the good old days would simply have been burnt.

Elsewhere in the tome, the vagina-fearing Ratzinger, then-worldwide head of Occupy Womb Street, foams at the mouth and rolls on the floor at the notion that Jesus was the product of a pee-pee pumping waves and particles into Mary’s holy of holies.

[He] insists that the doctrine of the virgin birth be taken at face value and that it is an "unequivocal" pillar of Christian belief.

In a section of the book entitled "Virgin Birth – Myth or Historical Truth?", he reaffirms that Christ was not conceived through sexual intercourse but by the power of the Holy Spirit.

The "virgin birth" horseshit was invented in the 2nd Century CE, a couple hundred years after Jesus lay a-molderin' in the grave. And, like most of the other trappings draped over the guy, it derives from pagan sources.

Mary, in truth, is pure sweet fecund sugar. Beyond measure.

[video:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kmvQH1OoqLM]

In his Rat-writ the former Hitler-hewer crossly contends that the angels that attended Jesus' birth did not sing, but rather spoke, and therefore Christians should bugger off with all the fuggin' Christmas carols.

He writes that when the gospels refer to the "heavenly host" of angels "praising God and saying, 'Glory to God in the highest'," they in fact spoke the words rather than sang them.

Rats knows that caroling bubbles up from pagan loins, and so he wants it stopped right now.

The Ratzinger tome finally lies that there were no animals present at Jesus’ birth.

[C]ontrary to popular belief, Jesus’s birth was not presided over by oxen, asses, camels or indeed any other beasts.

"There is no mention of animals in the Gospels," he wrote[.]

Bullshit. What does this guy know? He used to strut around wearing a swastika armband.

Animals were not only all and every at the time the dude was dumped out into the manger, but they were so of his karass, that he's since made it Plain that each year, in the hour when Christmas Day first dawns and dings, that said animals will be commanded of human speech. I have personally heard this speech, and many, many, times. One time, some long years ago, my friend the Doctor, supervisor of a rat lab, recorded his charges, in conversation, upon this hour, and we then printed a transcript in the Newspaper. And, since it appeared in a Newspaper, that makes it Real.

Why Big Hat Greg had to get all jiggy to change from Julian to Gregorian calendar, just because Easter had gone a bit adrift, this, to me, is a puzzlement.

For Easter is just some rabbit-picked-out-of-a-hat day when the resurrection of Jesus is celebrated by bunnies laying eggs and then giving them away to children.

This absolute Reality is set forth most completely in a relatively recently unearthed book of the bible, attributed to Jesus’ brother James, the Secret Gospel of James Regarding The Resurrection Of My Brother Jesus As An Egg-Laying Rabbit.

In this tome, we learn that after the Romans spiked and then hoisted Jesus up onto the wood, for saying everyone is god and "Romans" aren’t Real, and after up there Jesus died, the people said, well, that's that, as ever, better get him into the ground, before he goes ripe. So they brought him down, and washed him, and then laid the corporeal container in a sort of cave. From which, three days later, he burst forth as an invisible rabbit who laid eggs and then secreted them away so that children could experience joy in finding them.

The reason for this, James explains in this gospel, is that Jesus wanted to get across to people that not only is death just one more manifestation of maya, which everyone who is god—and everyone is god—can and should elide, but that, even through the utter permanent devastation of total irrevocable loss, one can try to tease fun from it . . . and what could be more fun than a giant invisible rabbit who lays eggs for the joy of children?

Now, it is a little-known fact that James, brother of Jesus, he has never died. For it is he, James, who is the legendary Wandering Jew, a Jew of the time of Jesus, who, it is said, shall walk this earth, for so long as walk upon it people.

Over the millennia, James, wandering, he has taken many forms. One such form was as "Jimmy Stewart." And it was in that form, as "Jimmy Stewart," that James offered us the gospel of Harvey, the true-life documentary film in which a giant invisible rabbit lays eggs, stops clocks, encourages people to bestow upon themselves and one another love and peace and fellowship, and transports those who wish to go to hither and yon . . . for Harvey, as his brother James tells us in the film, "has overcome not only time and space—but any objections."

[video:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mkdVpMu1Mjk]

Anyone who doubts that Jimmy Stewart was James, brother of and in Christ, can regard, below, his brief, rhymed gospel, the Gospel of Beau:

[video:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V3unTt67nxg]

There is of course no Jesus. As there is no time. Or even, any longer, Beau. All are but constructs of the fouled-up folds of the human mind. All are just of people, reaching, grasping, sad, trying to Get There.

Roger Ebert, dying in terrible pain, of a terrible disease, was vouchsafed a vision of the Real, in the last week of his life. As related to us by his left-behind, for a time, wife:

That week before Roger passed away, I would see him and he would talk about having visited this other place. I thought he was hallucinating. I thought they were giving him too much medication. But the day before he passed away, he wrote me a note: "This is all an elaborate hoax." I asked him, "What’s a hoax?" And he was talking about this world, this place. He said it was all an illusion. I thought he was just confused. But he was not confused. He wasn't visiting heaven, not the way we think of heaven. He described it as a vastness that you can’t even imagine. It was a place where the past, present, and future were happening, all at once.

[video:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3r331C8Ctfc]