Welcome to the Market Tavern:

Hand of God

“Vide licet; Vide ante; Vide infra; Vide Supra; Vide ut Supra; Vide Post.”

“I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.” -William Ernst Henley

“Without honor, life is impossible, not only worthless, but impossible to maintain. A man cannot live with shame; which in the old sense means far more than now,” -Vilhelm Gronbech

“We can have reasons to believe something, to do something, to have some desire or sun and have many other attitudes and emotions such as fear, regret, and hope. Reasons are given by facts; such as the fact that someone’s fingerprints are on some gun, where the ambulance is called and someone’s life is saved. There are reasons and rationales imprinted in the record to explain it all, this happened here, this happened there, and cases are closed, buried and thought forgotten…and sometimes someone has a belief so strong; that it overturns the reasons in a record, that it overturns accepted mores and ways, that it upsets the balance.

Rebalancing injustice is the quintessential belief held by our civilizations; if a wrong has been committed, against a person or property, we, as a civilization firmly believe that those wrongs should be made right. It is a compact, it is ancient, and it decries that there has been an aberration in the records that needs redress…Richard Gordon Thompson. May 31,2022. -That is my real name: the T might be a different letter, but that is my true name.

The Highway on Top of The World

Can you see it.?

Can you see it now?

#the bleeding edge of reality #on the paths of the dead #to King Solomon’s Mines #on the highway on top of the world #to the Kingdom of Prester John #in the lands of the east #the market tavern #back when Tigers used to smoke #dreaming ancient gods #boundatthegatesofdawn #hallucinating the fey #digging for diamonds and gold

You still have yet to see it, right? Ah me, It is true then, I a man without his mind, it has gone the journey to the other side and left me a befuddled fool, who sees things no one else does. It is my imagination, oh no!

In a small red and White House, high up on a plateau lives a lonely middle edged man, surrounded by trees, ringing the eastern slopes of the Rocky Mountains, in a small town populated by a people asleep at the helms of their ships, and they not only do not see what I see; they mock and they laugh and they snicker behind their hands, and whisper to themselves…”there he goes…I heard he thinks he is the King of Russia,” to which I am always ready with a witty rejoinder, unused because no one has asked me, so here is my answer to those brave enough to find my site in the flotsam and jetsam. Of the internet of things…”I am not the King of Russia, do not be silly…they would need to tell me first, zi am, however, the natural, true King of Scotland, and the fey have been telling me that for 25 years, ever since the first of my 3 pet dragons hopped aboard my backpack and joined me in the Highlands, wandering about aimlessly, looking for exactly what was hiding in the tree above me, look below, see what you see…I think we may be friends now, and I think he is a she.

October 12, 1997…tweaking the nose
Glencoe 1996 The Red Dragon and ai get acquainted

Up here on the eastern slopes, the wind blows every day, and you always carry a jacket, even in summer because the rain always tastes of snow And magic gathers in a maelstrom of twisting tendrils and lines of power, gathering close together as they spin around the vortex that is the tiny town where the red and White House sits, with its solitary occupant, two cats and a batty mom character that comes right out of a southern adventure novel in eccentricity. Of which the Whiterabbitt, himself, is no small beginner in quirks, oddities and a defensive twitch called…he jumps whenever anything moves too near…because as quiet as the town looks, and as backwater as its people complain it is, there is an undercurrent hear that is flowing at breakneck speed and coursing through the lines of power that cries cross the region from the distant park mountain across the southern view and over hells gates into the underworld, where once you disembark and climb the slopes, you disappear into the cavernous opening, never to be seen again. Or the west river, downstream from the great gate, where crossing runs you up a slope where your journey becomes one of the many paths over and above and under and below, the great graven heads set amidst stunted high altitude trees planted in groves, to reveal an ancient tetra-glyph of unknown provenance that has stumped me greatly in this place, and made it seem small and confined.

This little hamlet that sports a history that runs up against the bleeding edge of reality in many ways also sports bizarre, unexplainable, phenomenon it is true. I would curse a little and say something snippy but one of the first rules you learn up here is to mind your p’s and keep your Q’s on the measured level and make sure to carry a bagful of smelling salts, because there is nothing more heart stopping than having causality sit right next to you, take a deep lungful slowly drawn against a bubble of air tenuously pushing against your breath and take your psyche for a ride from one end of the signal stream to the other. Up and down the data workflow of history, that runs, warps and weaves itself through reality like a slipstream twisting in a howling gale against forces bent directly against it, producing the events of history, where there is absolutely nothing in the public record to explain what it is I am seeing. Well…not nothing, never use that…saying a word that indicates an absence of something calculated is an idea that bears bitter fruit and is best left for use as ammunition against the gates that open and close wherever two boundaries meet and produce into our three dimensional reality, invisible little ships that reflect and expand in size along the exponential route as they launch themselves in the direction of the free food and drinks bar that has been set up and set for two, with plenty of space between. There is a growing breathless anticipation as the two contestants get themselves properly zoned and ready…in one corner and dressed to kill in stilettos, black skirt and sapphire eyes set so bright in her pale skin that they consume any gaze that lingers on it for any length of time.

The end of the ferry.
Gateshead, Hells Gates, on The paths of the Dead, from The Book of the Dead, circa 2500 BCE…bet you money…five bucks…This is where you want to be at sunrise midwinters day…except there is no way anyone would want to get up at dawn in minus 30C to go out and get cut in half by the wind…but the thought is there and that counts.

This has been quite an alarmingly adventure. I know I am no longer on the earth I grew up in, my decisions, my thoughts, and events have conspired to transport me through to another realm entirely, one next door and stacked a thousand high. Divergent realities with every crossroads taken, leading further and further from the norm I realize ai am desperate to find. I am sure the rules of science and physics applied in my world prior to the event nearly four years past, when something happened so outside my normal experience, it profoundly shocked me on such a level, that I have just split my spectrum of reality because what I see has no explanation in our record and I feel like it is maybe a bygone era, a new frontier discovered and a new direction to turn our collective minds. By the time you are done with me here, if you aren’t completely sure, then I will sit and tend the tavern patiently, until viewers strong with creative minds start looking and seeing it for what I am going to expound on with collected photography and far less words than this introduction. If you want words, check the blog. Please do, it has many articles, and the links page, it, too, has many links, to other pieces of the story…I really hope it makes sense, I worked back to front…and still haven’t finished editing my accompanying novel, because I am nervous, about what all of this means…to me, and to the rest of humanity too…look real carefully at the photos posted. Don’t worry about anything nefarious, the pictures themselves are enough, they are just formal, shy and are really wanting people to understand a few things about them, first off being their taste in indie music and films, pop music and gathering errant thoughts and running them through their own sensors…and they like cats…

The Fisherman, early in the morning for Hugin but Munin has two for her breakfast before the sun has kissed the sky.

I have plenty of posts; a sort of chronology and by lines promoting my amazing passive income maker, that needed content and went and got it. And then absorbed so much time putting it together, that I was able to keep my mind off of matters and think my best on what sort of story would go along with it all, and I came up with more than one, maybe a whole population of theories, and am sure they will not mind…this ride is rated G for any who care to check my vocabulary…I have a swear jar beside the beer, hope it is enough; because am going to need the goodwill when you hear my own version of the history of the world, brought to you by seven months of winter and a storytelling contest with fate…lots of posts and links to various works, social media and a vanishing reappearing shop to go along with the marketplaces and the shop on this site, which should really get some products in it…hmmmm what rhymes with rock troll🪨, all pulled together to bring my best, low budget, totally unscripted presentation of the most amazing discovery of a generation:!

At first I thought it was a rock troll, sleeping in the summer sun; then ai noticed that he was being eaten by a dragon and I hurried quickly away, not really, I shot a bunch, and the next day the mound was gone, and I very inanely blamed the mine, but now I know for sure, they are strip mining an archeological site, and one I think filled with diamonds, so we are shipping diamonds in our unprepared coal to China, who have been taking just rough unwashed, despite its volume and weight significantly affecting loads, because the locals think they are stupid, and I think they’re a bunch further ahead in terms of social cohesion and knowledge, we are sleeping, the world is changing, and not as badly as our own leaders fear.

Abandon disbelief, scoffing, sneering and dismissing, these photos are untouched, they aren’t faked in any respect, save for the Hallucinations, they are my creative side at work. Mostly you will find the continuation of this story, told in photography. (Hallucinations you say: yes well…you have to look closely at the photos, really closely for a bunch, but once you see it, it is worth the effort. They wax and wane with the fullness of the moon and touch the earth at different times, following the ancient Celtic calendar, the moons, Beltane. Samhain and the others. To them the VigViser is more than just a symbol, and their view of the world is a lot stronger and tougher than ours. Must depart from this update: it is the witching hour, and I spooled energy all day.

Do me a favor, if you are having difficulty in seeing what I have, zoom in and scroll around the views, look carefully, then out again slowly, it helps with focusing.

If you haven’t seen it yet…I see two dogs sniffing each other spread out over thousands of feet, a massive Tetra Glyph…on the North Eastern slopes of the Rocky Mountains, approximately between 5 and 6000 feet in elevation, the picture is taken facing south 200 degrees give or take. I will get more specific as I go further in. Right now, just accept that I believe there to be nothing that can explain this…but I have a dozen or so theories…

PS Constrained still by winter to enter the deep bush, nevertheless, by the time the becomes public, will have made an attempt to penetrate one of the myriad trails that crisscross the mountain, I have seen something even more interesting, and it is in this photos.

Insert: it has been six weeks or so since ai prepared this page…and things have been one stunning day after another, tripping through realms and crossing boundaries in reality, and bouncing around wildly as my second go round in six months came upon me, and my reality was invaded, by the shadows of the things that have our leaders so freaked out…and it is with good reason that there is concern…but not the need for carrying out the doomsday scenario they practiced on their tabletop exercise, because the fact is everyone is ramping up the tension and the issues themselves, and humanity is tuning out enmasse and staring at their phones. Last week I tried to show a friend my photos; we have known each other a long time, and I am still angry at his caustic attitude, his instantly negative approach: “I see what I see, and I’ve seen stuff, I won’t believe it if I cannot see it, and sneering contempt before he had even looked at what was on offer, then he put on his thickset glasses and kept yelling over his deaf ears, and I humored him, because he has been in denial about being deaf for as long as I’ve known him…anyway…

I have yet to make an assault on the mountain, every weekend has been a write off, and my site is stagnating in development hell, as I cannot get the transactions working, or they are or not, but my is is not verifying, apps are billing out of sequence, and the bot that put me on this path in the first 0lace has come roaring back into my internet, and each day between all the fey, the spirits, the ghosts, the dead, and all the different dimensions that pass through my home, I learn a little bit more about the nature of what the world faces as it’s magnetic North Pole shifts to the south, and what we have dismissed from our ancestors and labelled them as credulous fools for, is our great failing, and could cost us our existence if we do not wake up and start playing by the new rules of physics that govern our world…at least here on the bleeding edge, where ai have been specially created, plonked down here, and fed a complete diet of contrary behaviours in every aspect of my life, so that I achieved a state of chaotic confusion, because this is the gates of dawn, where all realities meet. Quantum physics does not happen in bootes void…Earth is the odds, it is populated with a myriad of disparate species and lives, intelligent, who choose to keep away from us, because we are violent abusers of our world around us, and they know something we spout off about but do not know…the land is alive, it is intelligent, and it created humans to take care of its outer layers, so it feels fashionable, and feeling good is what they want, and need, because the earth is made up of a pile of rugby squad players, and squashed in at the centre of their intertwined tackle…is the enemy at the gates; just look at bootes void again, and it’s trying to break out through a dimensional gateway, don’t worry, it’s been going on for four and a half billion years, and the rocks are waking us up because they are noticing that we have poisoned their air and atmosphere, and if they wake up, and stand up, they will start fighting again…it’s in their programming, it’s a matrix all right, Africa is a giant unkempt miniature golf course…this is why I can’t be taken out to nice places…I always spoil the grand finale…maybe I should delete that part until later…nahh…

Rock Troll

So I found in the queens coinage, in specific portraits, I found a map, and because I can see a gigantic X marking a location that none think of, and two jagged lightning bolts, I am thinking this really is king Solomon’s mines, don’t believe me, wait til I show you the Easter island replicas that are around 800 feet tall, weatherworn but unmistakable, in the specific light and snow cap of the early spring…it is almost too difficult to make out any of it, but I think there is a legend somewhere about Midas maybe, the Minotaur, whatever it is I believe part of it is returning the leprechauns gold…because my overactive imagination, has placed this place as number one when it comes to ancient legends…have found a ruin, ancient logging, a huge earthwork, and various mine sites from later generations, but one into the face of a mountain no one goes near. The coins start, or at least have an entry point in the direct forceful statement of the young queen with the Beatles in her crown, as in the Fab Four…her eyes point to what looks like a mark up, a flaw, but it is not, it occurs to regularly in specific coins, and from there you f8nd the other points, as each represents somewhere on the coastlines of her shawl and gown…it was in the coins before her majesty also, going back to the secret her namesake, Queen Elizabeth I kept for two hundred years, about the search for the northwest passage…and the fake maps out by 6 degrees latitude, that confounded the other imperial countries…and was a huge reason the English were to dominate the seas. You can see it in old explorers routes and missions…the English sail the open seas, the other countries hop along the edges…and the funny thing is…when they released the truth, they were still lying…it is the kingdom of Prester John that Drake went looking for…and it is here…because here, in relation to Stonehenge, on midwinters day, is a mathematical calculation and equation, as in basic navigational mathematics..where does the sun go during the 3 days at the solstice when it ceases to move on the horizon and ushers the dead through to the other side…where is dawn…where the gods look down upon you from the sky above and judge you as you walk the paths of the dead, in living, 8n to death in the mines that surround us…in death, along the decorated paths that festoon the shapes and images, that are unmistakable and simply dismissed by every one I know, except for my daughter, who I miss so terribly I cannot let her go…she can see them, it is in her art…so I know there are two of us, but what my little girl does not know…is that I’ve been carrying one with me since I went into the highlands of Scotland in 1996. I didn’t want to tell anyone, because I thought I was having a long term, storyline based hallucination…I was not, I am their king…and when I stepped into the temple of Mithras along hadrians wall, on December 23rd at dawn, 2004, I woke her up…because I was walking where my feet tread very heavily, and it has been 18 years, and the gods are waking up…the reason our ancestors took religion so seriously, is because it is real…and this time, let’s not follow the Roman’s…they were the bad guys, there really is psychomancy and playing for the side that wants the world to end, is just against the rules here in my new country. My dad always said David Thompson Country was his. We came to Canada because Dad saw a Marilyn Munro e film when he was a little kid, in 1955 or so, and he thought Canada was the place to live, and Canadian women were the best looking in the world…and two years later the minders immigrated over to Canada…this is what happens when you strategize generations ahead, and wait breathlessly to see if the product of it all is able to comprehend what this is about…and he says! With a tired grin…”show me the money, if I’m to build a kingdom, I need access to cash, and if I am the Romanov heir, how did you guys manage to create my lineage…Cadwalladr, Carvetti, Northumbrian, Cumbria, Macbeth (was born to be Macbeth) it’s as though I am a genetic test tube baby…along with substance P, proctor & gamble for corporate babysitters, and the ownership in fee simple of h,I,j,k 1,2&3…it’s the twins though…we were either discovered or rediscovered when Richard II had his DNA checked, and I bounced out of the pile in a paternity case…am I right? Somebody please explain to me what is going on in my family tree, with everyone dead or mindless, I am starting to feel a really strange sort of destiny pull, that is screaming redress, realignment and something of a spectacular show…read on deaf viewers, I shall keep you appraised, but first is to claim what is in my name, and pay as little in taxes as possible, I need 8t, haven’t been on a spending spree before…snicker.

Faces carved in cliffs
Rock Trolls
Ochre Rams head, entered into Global Photo awards
Looks like a ruin to me
Can you see them? I can.
See them here?
Rock Troll remains; mining destroyed the site I took these on.
Blurry; but do you see the horse and the diamond?
Rock Trolls
Look carefully, do you see them?
Can you see the Dragon? I took this in Glencoe in 1996; all my photos show them.
Central west coast, British Columbia, Mackenzies plinth, near to Oceans falls, where the trail begins.
The photo I entered into the Global photo awards: do you see them? This one is pretty obvious; I bet you have never seen the like.

I found the site in 2019, took a few photos and did not think much about it until I remembered the story my father told of the mine blowing up a wall of fossils to avoid being shut down again by the Royal Tyrell museum which has a display from this area with a dinosaur leg that is huge…this was the remains of that wall I found, it appears to be a mosaic…and it’s remains were destroyed almost virtually overnight because when I went back to take more photos, it had been swept away, by the mine or oil and gas, or utilities, power and gas, each of them maintains rights of way directly where I found the remains…do you see what I see in those photos…something more important than coal, and more important than profit loss and write offs against taxes…it is a civilization, the remains of one at least and should be getting studied…instead it is invisible to the world, at least until now; if I could actually get my site to publish this would look great.