Today, I was in the library and I picked out a book at random on the Nazis and the occult—it was just a standard popular history, poorly written and contradictory. However, I felt compelled to read it—and I always obey the voice of command. I learned a few crucial points. Chief among these was that Himmler admired Josef Heinsch, an expert on sacred geometry, and he detected the number “42” embedded in ancient monuments that included Karnak, Solomon’s Temple, Stonehenge, and Notre-Dame. He also pointed out that there are 42 levels of ascent to the heavens in the Eddas. This is where Douglas Adams got the number 42 as “the meaning of life, the universe, and everything” in his Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy series (as famously presented by a super-computer—perhaps Stonehenge is a stone super-computer).
Other details: Himmler advocated that couples should have sex in graveyards to imbibe the spirits of their ancestors—something I considered myself but decided against on the grounds it was too disrespectful (I may revisit the idea). While I read this book out, an insipid young man with curly hair and an unctuous appearance came over and asked me, ever-so politely, not to read so loud—I fancy his name was “Tobias” or “Jacob” or something suitably treacly and nauseating (he looked like a guitar-strumming kumbaya evangelical).
It wasn’t that the children’s song group one stack over could hear me reading out the section on Hitler’s views on The Protocols of the Learned Elders of Zion—it was that he, the drip, just couldn’t stand it (as I quietened, the children sang louder—so it didn’t make any difference but they were in tune with me synchronistically, I knew that as soon as they started to sing). The book was from a publishing company called “Arcturus”, of course—their symbol was a bear (normal company otherwise, generalist). Hence it was a message from the star guides (Arthur). They wanted me to have this information.