When Knight Angel rebooted into Earth's Matrix in the 70s, he too was born with no memory of Angel Star or his mission. But memories can become instincts and enhanced by guidance from this angel knights in the other realm. His natural love of lore became apparent with his fascination with movies, he felt driven to go to the centre of lore, Hollywood. This is what he planned before his rebirth; this is what his angels and those of Angel Star asked to do. Wherever Knight Angel is he will rise to be a king in whatever he does, that's in his nature. He is a commander, a born leader. It was a good plan. Angel Star must be in the heart of the lore that influenced the planet, that was her mission. But Angel Star was far away in England in a small town. The world of the internet had arrived and she'd found a way to influence global lore that was more subtle, more socially evolutionary and powerful than starting with movies. She realised that one day she'd need to go to Hollywood... yet in the grand-scheme of things that would be too late and only God had the master plan... it was time for divine intervention... it was time to reunite the lovers as he'd planned all along...
Hollywood is the hope of social evolution, the chance to speak to the brain in the language of dreams - picture and emotion; for that is the primary substrate of thought. When we add that to words that inspire positive brain chemistry and enable more love and empathy around the globe - then we we all win.
What is truly concrete in Los Angeles? In millions how many have a true friend, the sort of love that is immune to money, greed and fame? In this city of the soul, has the soul it been sold, sliced thin and sold by the ounce? For without love as our healthy addiction every vice pours in. So I guess the question is, can we learn to love again? Can we be a community that spreads good ripples? Can we see one another and not the masks we wear so often we forget they aren't us.
Upon the choking red carpet is the bling, yet beneath is the rock of the ages. These Hollywood hills still breathe, still reach for true starlight and feel the pulse of the ocean. Los Angeles can still find herself, can still save the world and bring new hope. For it is from their craft that our brains can be helped to heal, that we can imagine new ways of living and make them real.
When our angels who translate the soul into art for every sense, who make love so tangible and real, are made flat with painted on glitter, God is muzzled. So tape your broken wings, and learn to fly again.
In Hollywood, in the city of Angels, there is corruptions sting. For the cold gold of the hand tears at their golden wings or warm flame. The question is, will the cold beat the warmth, or will it flame so bright as to melt every coin. For angels were born to fly, not to bear the chains of greed.
If money is king in Hollywood, then whom may we ask is queen? Is she the shy voice of love in the wind, the real story of the success of these hills? For without here surely the king would fall, for the world becomes hell without their queen. I wonder, what would happen, if the king gave way and invited the queen to take centre stage for real. I wonder what could be if that taint of fake-love for profit's gain became real love for prophet's honour. Perhaps it is time for the crown to pass on.
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