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We posed. We packed. We left. It was still overcast on Summer Solstice so we would not yet get to see any of the 18 Mirrors bend the Light - from Lugh - into arcs parallel with the earth or down into the waters of the 40 mile bay. The gulls of the Îlot des Mouettes went Lulu Bravo on us, shrieking questions at our backs as we left: What's that for? What happened to Bitmek? Who's yer Mammy? Fuckin' air-monkeys. The Krew had Post-Coital Triste and except for the fading questions from the gulls and the hum of powerful gasoline engines skimming across the surface of the deep, each of us got to be in our own sweet silence. Eddie Rickets, who is also Liber Lingus, and also Captain Ron, and also Papa Sierra, because like all of us he takes his names from the Zeitgeist - from the Spirit of the Times - Eddie Rickets had that smile on a man's face that said: "God, it's good to be a gangsta!" On the way back to Paradesia - and a bottle of Single Malt waiting for us on the deck by the dock - while Skippy and Iwojima, across from each other in separate boats, gave each other the finger like Altarboys always do after Mass - suddenly, leaping out of the waters between them there was a large hump of a thing which breached, broached, and hung for a moment - half in the air, half in the water - half woman, half serpent - a hafling from the Yonder Shore. They both saw her. None of the others did. They were all looking in their own directions. But Skippy and Iwojima saw this Mélusine for a moment. She was beautiful and half-nekid; her tits were Brú and bursting. She smiled and then Spocked us both - she Mind-Melded with the 2 of us for a moment, and for that moment, while she was above the surface of the deep, the 3 of us were 1 and in the same dwelling, the same tent. Then a voice - with the tone of a throaty Demi-Moore - said: Thanks for getting me out of that Rock. And then she was gone. Iwojima smiled; Skippy smiled back. Then they gave each other the finger.
This is the most famous of the carved Kerbstones which ring the base of the mound of Newgrange. It sits directly in front of the entrance to the Passage Tomb. Spirals own the Neolithic - no matter where you go. You'll find them on the Islands of Malta and Gozo in the Med. And on the Island of Gavrinis in the Gulf of Morbihan off Brittany. And all over England and the Irelands. And you'll find them in the more ancient Upper-Paleolithic gracing the parietal. Before Skippy set off on his 3 trips to Europe and India back in the 80s, when he was researching Paleolithic Symbol Systems, he studied the imagery associated with epileptic seizures, hallucinations, sensory-deprivation, the stoned, and very young children. Number one on the list was the occurrence of Spirals. In Australian Aboriginal mythos the spiral is the portal between this mundane world and the Dreamtime. It's associations in mythology and psychology are those of: both solar and lunar powers, both the air and water, both thunder and lightning, both expanding and contracting, both waxing and waning, increase and decrease, growth and withering, emanation and emptying, winding and unwinding, life and death. It is a treasure chest of opposites which unite in one symbol. Spirals have been used to portray both time and the river, the revolving heavens, the changing seasons, the earth's rotation. They are coterminous with Whirlwind, Labyrinth, Maze, Web. Spirals are always associated with Maya and the Spinning Web of Illusion. Therefore it is the Spiral which hides the Secret behind the Great Mother's Veil. Remember, "No one my lift my Veil," is the first great rule of the dharma of the Great Mother - she who spins that web of destiny, wyrd, fortuna, and illusion. Spirals denote Dancing and Trancing and how to get between the levels of the 3 Tiered Cosmos of Underworld - Middleworld - Spirit Realm - the Cosmos which the Etics now claim is Structural and part of the brain and the workings of the brain itself. Spirals are Doors. Yonis. Veeayes. Spirals deal with the problems of the Soul as it attempts to gain and pierce the Center. Double-Spirals - as seen above - are all about increase and decrease and the flow of the seasons. Evolution and Involution. They are Bipolar, like all the rhythms of Nature. Shakta - Shakti. Manifest and Hidden. The Double-Spiral is the root image for the evolution of the Caduceus of Hermes. Fascinating, Mr. Spock would say. Of the 4 root symbols of the Cosmos: Fire, Air, Water, Earth - only Air and Water let us in. So the Double Spiral means both and since `things that let us in' are always female in symbology - then the Double-Spiral is Fertility and Intercourse. It's two opposite actions in one figure - like the "beast with 2 backs" - so the Double-Spiral is a metaphor for joining and fucking. In Celtic symbolism, the figure can also mean flame and fire. In the minds of the Maori they are Phallus and Vulva. The Triple-Spiral is all of the above with one other personality: the Spirit, the Logos, Pneuma, Rauch, the Holy Fucking Ghost, the Shekhina.
It was 4 years later - 9 September 1940 (Rizzoli was obsessed with the minutiae of time and dates) - his mother was now dead, he was 44 years old, living alone, sleeping on a cot at the foot of her empty bed, when the 2nd shoe dropped and the Supreme Mystery was revealed to him, as the last Veil fell away. Achilles Rizzoli had no friends and except for his job he was nearly a shut-in. But he had a small yard and the garden his mother lived for. So neighbor kids, mostly girls, lil' Lulu Bravos, would hang around and bug the funny little man. Hell, that's how he saw the Veeaye 4 years before. A little 3 year old girl, playing in the warming mud of Easter. [And he his Paschal Candle and her her blessed font.] Now, again, in 1940 there would be the last Epiphany. His journal records the scene: "A young girl ... asked me in a most forward, sophisticated fashion, to `do it with her.' Expressing ignorance and letting her chatter on, [she] described it coldly [and] somewhat shamefully, `he puts his into hers. ...' Thus, on Sept. 9, 1940 we experienced a most amazing bit of comprehension far beyond belief." Suddenly, in a blinding flash, there was this Road to Damascus moment. He could see it! And understand it! He'd always known that there was a difference, between boys and girls. 4 years ago he had seen that difference. But now he knew what the differences were for. Their function. Their utility. The way they complemented each other and fit. Rizz felt Holy. He felt like St. Thomas right after he stuck his finger in Christ's wounds. He had powerful Gnosis now. The Cosmos seemed more orderly and comprehensible. For the next 40 years Rizz wandered the fantasy city of the YTTE project, and other projects, but the wandering in the maze and in the wilderness seemed over. He grew to thinking that the Holy Spirit was manifesting thru him and his work. He grew to feeling her, the Shekhina, as she hovered over him as he Rendered everyone he ever knew into Monumental Structures. Buildings which were Ensouled with the Spirit of all the Others. None of the real people in the real world ever knew that they had been Transfigured into Towers and Cathedrals and Temples and Bridges and were now gracing a Cosmos called: Isle Del St. Sans Vaile - the Island of the Holy without Veil. Achilles Rizzoli never sold a story or a book nor had a drawing of his published. His work was discovered in 1990. It was stacked up in boxes in a garage and more in a basement. There were hundreds and hundreds of Renderings and drawings and paintings. They were the remnants of a Cosmos which had been alive in the mind of a small, handsome, elfish man, who lived 85 years as a Virgin and whom Skippy and Slag claim was Autistic and Ganz Andere and probably a god.
