Transfiguration

Traherne saw men as Cherubim,

Each boy and girl a living gem,

For so they had appeared to him

When infant-eyed he looked on them.

And what in infancy he knew,

He never to the end outgrew.

    Conflicting visions make their claims

    For each to pass his judgment on,

    And so it was with Peter, James, and John.

Azoyan and Azouchan

I am reading Daymon Smith's Words of Them Liberated concurrently with Hugh Nibley's Enoch the Prophet.

In the introduction to the first Words book, Daymon incorrectly states that Tolkien used the name Azoyan for Numenor, adding his own interpretation of that name ("i.e., Zion") in parentheses. Every single word and name Tolkien created is exhaustively documented online by obsessive fans, so I feel very confident in stating that Azoyan is not among them. Daymon was presumably thinking of Yozayan but misremembered it. The misremembered name later occurs in the main text of the book (supposedly channeled from an Elf), where the context -- "the Holy Land of Gift, Azoyan" -- confirms that what he means is Yozayan. Here the name is not explicitly credited to Tolkien, though, so it can be considered a variant rather than an error.

Liberated, though, is where Azoyan really comes into its own. Forms of the name are used more than 20 times, and it is often clear that it now refers not specifically to Numenor but to something more like what Mormons mean by "Zion." The Mormon Zion par excellence is the City of Enoch.

Today, I read in Nibley this quotation from an apocryphal Enoch document:

And they all came together, saying: Come, let us greet Enoch, and they came to the place Azouchan.

Nibley has no comment on this place name, but I could hardly avoid noticing the similarity to Azoyan. Looking it up to get some more context, I found this in T. J. Milik's The Books of Enoch: Aramaic Fragments from Qumran Cave 4:

The farewells and the Assumption of Enoch [in the Slavonic Book of Enoch] take place at Achouzan or Azouchan . . . . I think that the fifteenth-century reviser surmised rightly that this is a cryptic name of Jerusalem . . . or more exactly the hill of the Temple.

In other words, Azouchan means Zion, a standard definition of which is "Jerusalem, or more strictly, the Temple Mount." That a place name associated with Enoch was equated as far back as the 15th century with Zion is a very neat connection, and Nibley's failure to pounce on it is surprising. That it should be so similar to Daymon's misremembered Tolkien name, which he also equates with Zion -- and that I should happen to be reading Liberated and Enoch the Prophet at the same time -- is a striking coincidence.

Blue Sun Ben

Last night I discovered Blue Sun Ben, a 1984 children's book by Jean and Claudio Marzollo.

In "The Son of Righteousness, and the Talking Quartz of Kirtland," I report a sync in which a vivid fantasy about the Blue Sun of the Homeric age coincided with seeing the phrase "Son of Righteousness" -- a phrase from the Book of Mormon which is widely considered to be an error, an English-influenced corruption of the biblical "Sun of Righteousness." The name Ben comes from the Hebrew word for "son."

That post goes on to recount a dream about "talking quartz," ending by noting a possible link to St. Peter because "the literal meaning of the name Simon Peter is 'hearing stone.'"

Anyway, back to Blue Sun Ben. Ben lives in a world with two differently colored suns, and he is even more physically sensitive to the color of sunlight than Superman. All people in this world are human only under the Red Sun and become animals when the Blue Sun is up.

A chipmunk! In Alvin and the Chipmunks, the chipmunk who dresses in blue is Simon, thus leading to the idea that Simon Peter is one of the Chip Monks.

Ben is captured by the nefarious Animal Singer, who plans to turn him into gold.

Bill once had the idea -- which has persisted in the sync stream despite his later rejection of it -- that Simon Peter is to be identified with the Golden Man, Pharazon. The idea of Pharazon being a king who dressed all in gold is the main thing that prompted me to read The King in Yellow earlier this year.

Later, Ben -- whom we have already symbolically linked to Simon Peter, "hearing stone" -- hears a stone  talking to him.

The Animal Singer, it turns out, has been turning animals to stone by means of a magical substance he makes by "mixing powders and liquids." His intention is to turn them to gold, but he keeps failing. In "The Mask," one of the stories in The King in Yellow, a sculptor named Boris discovers a chemical liquid that can turn living things to stone. His friend Alec, hearing him tell of his discovery, wonders if he has learned to turn things to gold.

I pricked up my ears. "Have you struck gold, Boris?"

"No, better; -- but see here, Alec!" he laughed, starting up. "You and I have all we need in this world. Ah! how sinister and covetous you look already!" I laughed too, and told him I was devoured by the desire for gold, and we had better talk of something else; so when Geneviève came in shortly after, we had turned our backs on alchemy.

In testing his new discovery, Boris transforms a "big white rabbit" into a marble statue.

But I'm straying from my topic. Back to Blue Sun Ben:

In the email from Debbie which I discuss in "Two keys or three?" she mentions receiving a collar in a "ruby" bag and connects this with the book The Ruby Rosary by Thinley Norbu, which I recently posted about in "Clavis avis, clavis Dav'is."

Last but not least, the beautiful detached collar was wrapped in a  ruby see through bag. I thought of your post about The Ruby Rosary, and while not a necklace the collar fits around the neck.

A rosary is not a necklace, and wearing one around the neck is frowned on, but it certainly looks like a necklace and is symbolically necklace-adjacent.

Here's how the Animal Singer, who has transformed himself into a giant owl, is finally defeated:

The ruby necklace transforms the owl into a tree. It is then used to turn all the stones back into children (who, under the Blue Sun, will be animals). One of them introduces himself to Ben as the former rabbit-turned-talking-stone.

In The King in Yellow, too, the petrified rabbit, though everyone assumes it has been killed -- Alec chose not to be present during the transformation because he "hated to see the life go out of a warm, living creature" -- eventually turns back to a living animal.

The book is called Blue Sun Ben, and it was the Blue Sun angle that brought it to my attention, but the Red Sun is equally prominent in the story. This afternoon, the day after discovering Blue Sun Ben, I had to take my wife to a hospital in an unfamiliar part of Taichung. As we walked the short distance from our parking space to the hospital, we passed this large advertisement:

I had never heard of Sun Day Red before, but apparently it's Tiger Woods's line of golf apparel, launched in 2024, and featuring, according to Wikipedia, "Woods's signature red shirt." The form of the name -- three monosyllables, including Sun and a color -- is obviously very close to Blue Sun Ben. A man called Tiger also syncs with the book's central concept of characters who live double lives as animals and human beings. Although Ben's shirt has a blue sun on it, the shirt itself is red.

Tiger Woods was apparently in the news recently for a DUI or something, and on March 28, the Babylon Bee (which I still check occasionally even though it really isn't very funny anymore) ran a story emphasizing his dual nature:

The joke is that Woods is both Black and Asian, and that the recent incident involves stereotypes associated with both races. This syncs in a broad conceptual way with Blue Sun Ben's dual nature as a chipmunk and a boy. The Bee shows Woods in a blue shirt, while the Sun Day Red ad has him in the red shirt that is apparently his trademark, so there's a red-blue duality, too.

It's only a vague link, but my March 22 dream "Joseph the Tirielist" featured both "golf jokes" and a cop dealing with "suspected drunk drivers."

Proclamation

Anointed, I proclaim the year

Of favor, when the deaf shall hear 

When hearts shall mend, the blind shall see,

And captive spirits shall go free,

For such awaits us "in that day,"

A certain seer was wont to say.

    I say the time to wait is past

    For all that holy prophet spake.

    This day, Isaiah's dawn at last shall break.

Miracle

No, not today! I've all my life

To wonder-work, but now my wife

Comes first. And what concern of mine

If these, omitting sprout and vine

And vat, want drink who sowed no seed?

True, Jesus -- yet behold the need!

    The secret is not often spoke,

    You'll hear it not in Sunday school:

    That always love partakes of broken rule.

Baptism

Elijah crossed this stream dry-shod,

And where is now Elijah's God?

He wades. He takes Elijah's hand,

And both now bow to the command

Of One Elijah dimly saw

And Joshua, beneath the Law.

    All dimly did they see that One,

    Those prophets over Jordan sent,

    Till Jesus Christ appeared and underwent.

Discovery

His father's work? He timber takes,

A thing that grew by laws its own

From seeds in First Creation sown,

And something fit for purpose makes.

And thus, in all he skills to build,

The acorn's promise is fulfilled.

    The Son, for all his parents' fear,

    Has set himself his father's task,

    And so at learned feet must hear and ask.

Presentation

In welcoming the Holy Child,

Such is the hold of Moses' words,

They take a pair of turtles mild

And sacrifice the harmless birds.

They keep the Law, they are devout,

But Moses' time is running out.

    Now dawns the Age of Broken Heart.

    Oppression in his name shall cease.

    Let all the prophets now depart in peace

Nativity

To those who say God cannot change

And make of him a lifeless fact,

Isaiah says God's work is strange,

And passing strange Jehovah's act.

For what could the All-knowing know,

Without the will to undergo?

    But having made himself a son,

    He by his own experience knows.

    The only God that lives is one that grows.

Two keys or three?

I've been thinking about the two-key sync theme. One repeated element of these syncs is that the keys are equated to crosses. I quote from my February 2024 post "What's the second key?":

On February 5, I was checking a few YouTube channels and found a video posted by the synchromystic channel LXXXVIII finis temporis on January 25. It's about two recent movies I've never seen and didn't even know existed until today: Mission: Impossible – Dead Reckoning Part One (2023) and Uncharted (2022), both of which share the oddly specific feature of two keys in the form of crosses (cf. crossed keys) which must be combined and used together.

The video doesn't mention it, but a further coincidence between these two movies is the names, both of which refer to navigation in a situation where essential information is lacking. "Uncharted" of course refers to regions for which no map has been made. "Dead reckoning" means estimating one's current position from a known past position plus an estimated velocity, rather than ascertaining it directly by means of landmarks, stars, or satellite. . . .

If the Rosary is one of the keys, and on September 3, 2022, I had a dream in which  "I found that the cross on the rosary was also a key," then the other key should also somehow have the form of a cross. . . .

I tried to think what attributes the other cross-key might have. One should be gold and the other silver, I guess, but that's not very helpful. Which is the Rosary, anyway, gold or silver? Maybe try a different tack. A rosary is literally a garland of roses, and lilies complement roses as silver complements gold. 

Rereading this made me think of the Rider-Waite Hierophant (Pope) card, which features the papal symbol of crossed keys, as well as the symbolism of roses and lilies on the vestments of the two monks. One anomaly is that, where two cross-shaped keys combined make a double cross, the Hierophant has a triple cross.

Does this suggest that there might be three rings instead of two? 

On March 27, at 4:12 p.m. here in Taiwan (4:12 a.m. in Ohio), I received an email from Debbie, including explicit permission to use it on this blog. The subject line was "3 ring key." She had ordered an item of clothing online and sent me some photos of other things that were included in the package:

In the accompanying message, Debbie emphasized the fact that "there are 3 small rings on the top of the small brass key," which she found "interesting as they remind me of your three pentacles post." She thought the flowers on the card resembled tulips and that the ship looked like a pirate ship. In the context of my own syncs, though, I saw the flowers as white roses -- "A rose argent. I'd already connected the two keys with the duality of red and white flowers. Symbolically, a white rose is interchangeable with a lily" ("Yeats, Joan, and Claire") -- and the ship as the Barque of St. Peter, symbol of the papacy.

Curious about that latter symbol, I ran an image search for barque of peter pope and found this cartoon, from a post (by a Jew-turned-Catholic-turned-Protestant) called "The Barque of Peter: The least leaky boat?"

It shows a pope in a boat with many plugged leaks. These are labeled with various controversial aspects of Catholicism, with the last labeled simple "Enough Already!" The photo Debbie sent also prominently features the word "ENOUGH."

Note that the pope in the cartoon holds not a triple cross but a crosier with a spiral-shaped head. Though most of my two-keys-combined syncs have involved cross imagery, one exception is this image from "Syncs: The World Beneath":

That post begins by explaining how I came to be looking at the book Dinotopia: The World Beneath -- because it "spontaneously fell from its place on the shelf." Debbie's email said that she connected her key with my posts about birds with keys in their mouths (her "language of the birds" thing). One of these images, from "Clavis avis," was from a 4chan post insisting that for bibliomancy to be successful (emphasis in the original), "The consulted book must have fallen down from a shelf on its own."

Last night, I checked the mailbox and found this flyer:

Notice the very large date 4/12 -- corresponding to 4:12, the time of Debbie's email in both my time zone and her own. In the picture, there's a bird (a Chinese phoenix), a boat, and three keys, including one with a "three-ring" design.

The next thing that caught my eye was the winged lion. This, as a symbol of St. Mark, was a sync as far back as 2014 ("Coincidences: Herodotus and the Piazza San Marco"). The symbolism comes from a tradition of mapping the Four Living Creatures, which together constitute the Cherubim, with the authors of the four canonical Gospels. (See my 2018 post "The Throne and the World" for all the details.) Two of the other Cherubic creatures, the eagle and the winged man, also appear on the flyer, as the phoenix and the winged fairy. All that's missing is the fourth: the ox or bull. But I think the two boys on the boat represent this fourth Living Creature. The Living Creatures represent, among other things, four of the Twelve Tribes of Israel (another meaning of "4/12"). The bull represents the House of Joseph because of language used in Moses' final blessing:

His glory is like the firstling of his bullock, and his horns are like the horns of unicorns [i.e. aurochs]: with them he shall push the people together to the ends of the earth: and they are the ten thousands of Ephraim, and they are the thousands of Manasseh (Deut: 33:17).

The two horns of the bull represent the two Tribes into which Joseph was divided: Ephraim and Mannaseh. As it happens, those two names are also associated with the imagery of two young boys dressed in contrasting colors. Here's an image of Jacob blessing Ephraim and Mannaseh, from the early 14th-century Golden Haggadah:

And here's a more recent take on the same theme, Marc Chagall's Bénédiction d'Ephraïm et Manassé (1931):

The image of Ephraim and Manasseh on a boat is appropriate, since in the Book of Mormon it is the families of Lehi (a descendant of Manasseh) and Ishmael (traditionally understood to be an Ephraimite) that sail across to sea to a new land. The fact that Ephraim has a map is also interesting, given the syncs, mentioned at the beginning of this post, about navigating without a map.

Visitation

How is it each can recognize,

These prophets as they meet midstream,

What never has before his eyes

Appeared, not even in a dream?

If womb to womb, as face to face,

Across the intervening space,

    They met on some prenatal day,

    Is that the key to how they knew?

    The key to every holy déjà vu?

Annunciation

Thou highly favored one, rejoice!

Thou lady pure, thou virgin choice!

The words are whispers, yet they make

The earth beneath the maid to shake

As round the angel, small and slight,

The desert fills with ghostly light.

    The quakes subside, the earth is still,

    As Mary turns and can but stare,

    For hovering she finds a lily there.

Bless the wings, don't let me drown (more poetic bait-and-switch)

Last month, as documented in "Chil the Kite and the Day of Doom," I searched for a brief poem from Rudyard Kipling's The Jungle Book, clicked the link, and found that even though it was the right web address (which displayed the right poem when I refreshed), it was displaying something totally different: the 66th stanza of Puritan poet Michael Wigglesworth's 1662 poem The Day of Doom.

The two keys have come up again, and in the comments on "Clavis avis, clavis Dav'is," WG is asking questions about what the keys might be and what they might be for. This made me think of the 1991 Moody Blues album Keys of the Kingdom, and I wondered whether any of its tracks might provide sync clues. I looked at a track listing, and the one that caught my eye was the second track, "Bless the Wings (That Bring You Back)" by Justin Hayward, since it takes two wings to fly. I rarely listen to that album and didn't know the lyrics very well, so I looked them up on Google -- which, bizarrely, produced this:

All the clickable links are to the lyrics of the song I asked for, but under the first link Google displays the lyrics of a completely different song -- it turns out to be the 2014 song "Drown" by Bring Me the Horizon -- which it still calls "Bless the Wings (That Bring You Back)" and credits to Justin Hayward.

As with the Kipling-Wigglesworth mix-up, it's hard to see how this could have happened. The two songs are completely different, and "Drown" doesn't even include any of the key words like bless or wings. The closest match is "bring me home again," which is conceptually similar to Hayward's "bring you back across the shore," though the only shared word is bring.

Here are the two songs:

I began this post by referencing the Chil the Kite incident. That post includes the web address -- https://poetrynook.com/poem/now-chil-kite-brings-home-night -- which was inexplicably displaying The Day of Doom, so I pasted it into my address bar just now to see if the glitch could be replicated.

This time I got neither Kipling nor Wigglesworth but a series of "prose poems and experimental poems" by one Michael R. Burch. This time I thought to get a screenshot to "prove" it:

This Michael R. Burch is not at all to my taste, but I dutifully read through all his "prose poems" in the name of sync. Only this one caught my eye:

I found a stone ablaze in a streambed, honed to a flickering jewel by all the clear, swiftly-flowing millennia of water... and as I kneeled to do it obeisance, the homage of retrieval, it occurred to me that perhaps its muddied underbelly, rooted precariously in the muck and excrescence of its slow loosening upward ... might not be finished, like a poem brilliantly faceted but only half revised, which sparkles seductively but is not yet worth

ecstatic digging.

Why not try clicking that Poetry Nook link, reader? What will it take you to?

White quartz pebbles (now with added syncs!)

My interest having been piqued by a mention of Bruce's blog, I tried to track down a digital copy of Wendy Berg's Red Tree, White Tree. Failing to find one, I instead downloaded the one Wendy Berg book I was able to find: Gwenevere and the Round Table. Scrolling through it rapidly first to get the lay of the land, I stumbled upon this, which seems to be from some sort of visualization exercise:

[Gwenevere] is standing where a stream of milk-water runs down the beach and into the sea. It flows over a bed of tiny white pebbles. She steps into the stream, and begins to walk upwards through its flowing water. She indicates that you should do likewise. You walk over to it. It is running fast over the white polished quartz pebbles, forming tiny whirlpools and eddies which splash into the air and catch the light. You kneel down and dip your hand into it, expecting it to be icy cold. But the water feels like dry, powdery snow flowing past your fingers. You look through the water to the stream-bed but it is hard to gauge the scale of what you are seeing. You can see your hand in the water, and the white pebbles, but they seem to lie a vast distance away, as if the stream bed lay within the stars.

The sound of the water fills your ears. It is like tiny silver bells, ringing faintly but rhythmically. There is an underlying rhythm, a pulsating, as if you are hearing the music of the stars.

Gwenevere continues to walk up the stream, moving effortlessly through the milk-white water. You step into the stream and follow her. You have eyes only for the white stream, and the sparkling quartz pebbles of the stream bed. You carefully watch your step to keep your balance, your eyes on the water swirling past your feet. It has a mesmerising effect. You feel as if you are leaving the earth behind you and walking out into the stars (pp. 126-127). 

I've just posted about white quartz, in "The Son of Righteousness, and the Talking Quartz of Kirtland," and about white pebbles in "The pebble key." I had not the slightest expectation of running into the same theme in a book about faeries and Arthurian legend, but there it is.

⁂

Update: The next day, March 28, I taught an English class. When I told the students which page numbers would be covered on their next vocabulary quiz, they started showing each other one of the pages and laughing about it. It turns out that what amused them was just the fact that the page number ended in "six seven," but they succeeded in drawing my attention to that particular page, where I noticed that pebble was one of the guidewords. A second later, I saw that some of the sentences on the page were also synchromystically relevant.

The relevant sentences are:

The pedestrian zone is paved with white marble.

The mountain peak is covered with white snow all the year.

The central court of the castle was paved with pebbles from the beaches nearby.

White marble is a pretty unusual thing for a pedestrian zone to be paved with, but it syncs with the passage from Gwenevere, where we are to imagine walking on white stones. The sentence about pebbles also has them as paving material, serving to connect the pebbles with the white marble. (In both books, the pebbles are from a beach, though that scarcely counts as a noteworthy sync, as pebbles generally do come from such places.) The water flowing over these stones in Gwenevere is "milk-white" and unexpectedly feels not like ice but "like dry, powdery snow," thus linking it to the sentence mentioning "white snow."

In the pebble sentence, the pebbles pave "the central court of the castle." The passage I have quoted from Gwenevere is from a meditation called "Journey to the chamber of the Round Table" (p. 125). Early in the book, we are told that "It is generally agreed that the Round Table was central to King Arthur’s court and kingdom" (p. 9, emphasis added).

Whispers through the veil

As I was waking up this morning, there came to my mind a certain part of the Mormon temple ritual, in which the initiate, being asked by one representing God if he will give him certain key words, replies, "I will, through the veil." As I entered the fully waking state, I thought of the similarity to the dialogue with Claire in "Rapunzel and the True Song of Wandering Aengus."

I read a few pages of Liberated over breakfast and found this:

It must never be there two, only, son. A third ever masked masquerades in wait, and shall whisper as through veil straightaway -- riddles saving, simple plain counsel, providing.

The pebble key

In my last post, "Clavis avis, clavis Dav'is," I noted that I had posted an image of a bird with a small golden key in a post called "Update: Some additional pebbles have been seen," and I connected this with a scene in Johnny English Reborn in which Johnny compares the "small key" that will allow him to defeat his enemies with the "pebble" that brought down Goliath.

Joseph Smith's Seer Stones, by Michael Hubbard MacKay and Nicholas J. Frederick, quotes two sources that refer to the seer stones or spectacles as pebbles. Lockwood R. Doty describes the Prophet's discovery of his white seer stone thus:

Soon after locating here the Smiths, father and son, were employed by Clark Chase to dig a well. While engaged in this work, a white, glossy pebble, resembling a human foot in shape was found. The future prophet kept the pebble and soon pretended to have discovered that it possessed supernatural powers. In the pebble he claimed to discern happenings in distant places and to read the course of future events. This pebble became known as the "peek stone."

And David Whitmer gives this description of the specs:

In translating from the plates, Joseph Smith looked through the Urim and Thummim, consisting of two transparent pebbles set in the rim of a bow, fastened to a breastplate. He dictated by looking through them to his scribes.

In Lucy's Book: A Critical Edition of Lucy Mack Smith's Family Memoir, edited by Lavina Fielding Anderson, the Prophet's mother calls the specs a "key":

I trembled so with fear, lest all might be lost . . . . Joseph saw this, and said, "Do not be uneasy, mother, all is right -- see here, I have got a key."

I knew not what he meant but took the article of which he spoke into my hands, and, upon examination, found that it consisted of two smooth three-cornered diamonds set in glass, and the glasses were set in silver bows, which were connected to with each other in much the same way as old fashioned spectacles . . . .

That of which I spoke, which Joseph termed a key, was indeed, nothing more nor less than the Urim and Thummim (pp. 378-39, 389). 

Thus is the same object called both "pebbles" and "a key." The Doctrine & Covenants also associates a white stone with the Urim and Thummim and with the language of keys:

Then the white stone mentioned in Revelation 2:17, will become a Urim and Thummim to each individual who receives one, whereby things pertaining to a higher order of kingdoms will be made known; and a white stone is given to each of those who come into the celestial kingdom, whereon is a new name written, which no man knoweth save he that receiveth it. The new name is the key word (D&C 130:10-11).

As mentioned in my last post, syncs have often involved a pair of keys: one associated with red and gold; the other, with white, green, and silver. The first is the Rosary, while the identity of the second remains speculative. In the quotations above, though, the seer stone is white and specs are set in "silver bows." (A "bow" is also part of a key.)

The pebble-key link might also have something to do with Peter, whose name means "stone" (considered by some commentators to mean specifically "pebble"). As Matthew tells it, he receives with this name the promise of keys:

And I say also unto thee, That thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church; and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. And I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound in heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven (Matt. 16:18-19).

Clavis avis, clavis Dav'is

(Apologies for the genitive mutilation. It's called poetic license, okay?)

In "Clavis avis" -- Latin for "the bird's key" -- I posted this picture, noting that a third rhyme was provided by the last name of the artist, Davis.

Despite that third rhyme, I did not immediately connect it with the earlier "Key of David" syncs, even though those were focused on Guillaume Postel's Absconditorum Clavis, which uses the same Latin word for key.

The picture above, which I originally got from the Duckstack post "Spite Kite," first appeared here in the post "Update: Some additional pebbles have been seen." Because of the bird-snake-hand imagery, together with the fact that Garuda is a kite, I linked it with this book on Tibetan Buddhism:

So the Davis painting shows a bird holding a small golden key, and I linked it to a book on Tibetan Buddhism. Not until last night did I make the should-have-been-obvious connection to "The Tinleys and the Small Key of David." That post features another Tibetan Buddhist book -- The Small Golden Key by Thinley Norbu -- and connects it, with its reference to Vulture's Peak, to my story about two knights named Tinley and a griffin that lives on a mountain peak. That post also includes this quote from Johnny English Reborn, in which Johnny is talking about a small key:

Now I know what you're going to say: It's a pretty small object. Well, it's often the little things that pack the biggest punch. After all, David killed Goliath with a pebble. The mighty Vortex has been slain by my possession of this small key.

Johnny compares the small key to, of all things, a pebble. The Davis painting with the small key originally appeared in a post called "Update: Some additional pebbles have been seen."

The reason I bought the Thinley Norbu book in the first place was that, as described in my post "What's the second key?", I was pursuing the symbolism of a set of two keys, one of which is the Rosary, with the other key unidentified. The two keys were associated with color contrasts: gold vs. silver, and red vs. white (as in "Sync homework: Dead Reckoning") or green. I assumed that the Rosary was the red key, since roses are red. Norbu's book had caught my eye because of its reference to a golden key. Not until today did I think to look up other books Norbu had written. Lo and behold:

Saved by fire -- featuring the Blessed Virgin, Jews named Jesse, and the Whale

I started a post on my Book of Mormon blog -- gave it a title, "So as by fire," and pasted a list of scripture references I wanted to deal with -- and then saved the draft and went to teach my final class of the day. As I was writing today's date on the board, I thought, for no obvious reason, "March 25, so nine more months till Christmas." A second later, I realized that that made today Annunciation Day -- i.e., the day Jesus would have been conceived if he was born on Christmas Day, assuming a pregnancy of exactly nine calendar months. Mormons have nothing like a liturgical calendar, so I rarely notice such things (though a dream about Annunciation Day is what started the whole "Chip Monks" thing). When I returned to the computer after the class, one of the other tabs I had left open was the Synlogos feed, which had been updated while I was away. One of the new posts, from Catholic blogger Mark Docherty, was titled "Feast of the Annunciation: 'By the fire of your charity, by the unction of your humility, you have drawn the Divinity to come within you.'" The quote in the title is from St. Catherine of Siena, who says in part:

O Mary, vessel of humility, you were pleasing to the eternal Father, and in His own singular love, He has captivated you and drawn you to Him. By the fire of your charity, by the unction of your humility, you have drawn the Divinity to come within you. . . .O Mary, my sweet love, you opened to the eternal Divinity the door of your will, and the Word immediately became incarnate within you. By this you teach me that God, who created me without my help, will not save me without it . . . but knocks at the door of my will and waits for me to open it to Him.

It was by "fire," says St. Catherine, that the Blessed Virgin opened the door to God, thereby teaching us that God can only "save" us if we do the same. Since my post is going to be about references to being "saved by fire" in the Book of Mormon (I'll add a link here once it's published), that's a solid sync.

Just after I had typed most of the above, a student came into my office to ask a question about her high school homework. It was a reading comprehension exercise, and the reading passage was an advice column called "Jesse Cohen Says." The "Chip Monks" link above goes to a word search for that phrase on this blog, and the first post that comes up is "Jesse Eisenberg: the connecting link between Chipmunks and Bigfoot."  (It's about the "Case of the Missing Acorn." The acorn recently came up in "Stones as seeds" as a symbol of Joseph Smith's seer stone.) The sync of a Jesse with a very Jewish surname prompted me to run a search for "jesse cohen says" just on the off chance that it was a real column. The top three results were all for the same news story, dated May 2, 2014: "Graffiti Tag Found on Dead Whale in Atlantic City." An ad the bottom of the page (no longer there when I refreshed, and I didn't get a screencap) showed some female celebrity standing in front of a wall that had the Virgin logo inside a red heart, so positioned as to appear as if it were crowning the woman's head -- a sync with the Blessed Virgin and her "fire of charity."

The whale in the story was found on May 1, just four days after I posted my many-eyed whale dream ("A beast with many eyes") on what I would discover years later was the 430th anniversary of Dee and Kelley's many-eyed whale vision. The graffiti tag on the whale said "ΤΕΦ 94," and Jesse Cohen was a spokesman for the Jewish fraternity presumed to be responsible. My whale dream included a precognitive link to the film 47 Ronin, and 94 is twice 47. Jesse Eisenberg, incidentally, starred in The Squid and the Whale.

This was originally going to be a brief sync prescript to my BoM post, but it got too long and involved for that, and now I've written this instead of writing the post. Well, as someone once said, tomorrow is another day.

The Son of Righteousness, and the Talking Quartz of Kirtland

Last night I put on some music on my phone while washing dishes. Since my hands were wet, I just let the algorithm do its thing after the initial selection. The Metric song "Help I'm Alive," from their 2008 album Fantasies, came on:

Appropriately given the album title, this song triggered mental imagery of near-hallucinatory vividness. As I heard Joules Scott-Key's drumbeat and Emily Haines's opening lines

I tremble (tremble, tremble, tremble, tremble, tremble, tremble, tremble)

They're gonna eat me alive . . .

I saw proud Achaean warriors, horsehair crests waving, training for battle under their Blue Sun, and with the repeated line "Beating like a hammer, beating like a hammer" I could hear the stamp of marching feet, the clang of spear-butts brought down on the rock in unison, and the ringing kiai of stout Diomedes, lord of the war-cry. For a few moments I was totally immersed in this scene. When I emerged from the world of god-like Homer back into my own, I glanced at the phone screen and immediately paused the song and took a screenshot:

That's clear Blue Sun imagery (which does not appear earlier in the video, when I had my fantasy), with a stamp that reads "Son of Righteousness." That's not a biblical phrase but one from the Book of Mormon, and a problematic one. I've been deep in the book's Zenos material recently (see my massive March 19 post "Identifying the 1 Zenos texts"). My earlier (2024) post on the subject ended with this:

The one loose end that remains is the Book of Mormon's use of "Son of Righteousness" instead of "Sun of righteousness." Malachi has Sun, and I think I've made a pretty good case that Zenos used Sun as well (with the Sun's three-day entombment in a sepulchre causing the three days of darkness). Since the two words are homophones in English but entirely dissimilar in Hebrew, it's hard to see how the Sun-to-Son swap could have been made by anyone other than the English-speaking Joseph Smith. That, I believe, is now the only unsolved problem relating to Malachi material in the Book of Mormon.

That I saw "Son of Righteousness" just after a fantasy about the Sun is a further coincidence. If we want to press the syncs, we could imagine the prophet living among Greeks who knew him as Xenos, "the foreigner," and think of his entombed Blue Sun emerging from the sepulchre in a different color, like Gandalf the White.

⁂

Shortly after this, I went to bed. I dreamt that I was hiking in northeastern Ohio with my wife, my parents, my sister Crystal and her husband, and the Portuguese writer Laeth and his wife. Laeth had (in the dream) written a book, which Crystal was reading, about the very landscape through which we were hiking, which helped us to see it through re-enchanted eyes.

As we were hiking, we saw an old ruined building, and Laeth said he could feel spiritual energy coming from the stones of which it was constructed. As we got closer, though, we found to our disappointment that it was not made of stone but of concrete.

"Yes," said my father, "but where did the material for the cement come from?"

It hit me with the force of an epiphany: "Kirtland. From the gravel yards of Kirtland."

"The Talking Quartz of Kirtland," said my father, and he began talking about this remarkable stone. They gray flint beds of Kirtland harbored two types of quartz crystals: "mute quartz," which was pink, and "talking quartz," which was white and occurred in impressive diamond-like and feather-like formations. It was called "talking quartz" because of its great spiritual power, through which people felt it "spoke" to them. Later we visited one of these flint beds and observed the two types of quartz ourselves.

I commented that the rocks of Utah, despite their great beauty and the fact that they, too, were used in sacred architecture, had no spiritual link except to the dinosaurs -- I still had a red "dinosaur stone" I had picked up near Moab, Utah -- while the stones of Kirtland had human and divine resonances unlike anything to be found out west.

I do not really have a "dinosaur stone" in waking life, but I am scarcely the first to have experienced the palpable presence of saurian ghosts in the redrock deserts of southern Utah. I remember the frisson of recognition when I first read Teruhisa Tajima's postscript to his 1994 art book Dinopix:

In the fall of 1992, I visited the small town of Moab, Utah. . . . Early one morning I visited Arches National Park in Utah. Far off in the orange-colored morning mist, on the other side of the plain, I saw figures of nocturnal raptors hurrying home, exhaling their white breaths. I thought I had seen a Brachiosaurus cast the shadow of its long neck, so characteristic of the lightning dragon, on the gigantic rock surface, deeply reddening in the morning sun. When I saw with my own eyes the answers I was about to obtain, I struggled not to be hasty. . . . I was particularly eager to reproduce the gigantic creatures whose images had been imprinted on my mind while I was in Moab. I was persistently concerned with how to realize the visions I had of them there.

The idea of the Talking Quartz of Kirtland was so utterly convincing that when I awoke, I immediately got online to check whether there really were quartz deposits there. Apparently not, though there are some in nearby Geauga County, also part of the early Mormon stomping grounds. My initial search for quartz mines in ohio turned up a place called Fantasia Mining.

This is synchromystically significant because the title of Laeth's first novel is Phantasia. An earlier dream, recounted in "A turquoise stone; and suns, moons, and armies with banners," had already connected that novel with crystals. (The rest of that post title also syncs with my fantasy of the Achaean army under their distinctive Sun.)

Also perhaps relevant is a verbal dream I had a long time ago -- early 2000s, maybe -- in which a voice introduced a city called Quartslagen, "incorporating both white quartz and pink jasper elements," which was "built on a common love based on a common trust" and was "under the benign governance of the Anathoth, the Monothoth, the Benathoth, and the Torothoth."

Another link to the Talking Quartz may be the recent reference to Simon Peter in "Filling Peters' shoes." I have been reading and writing about "seer stones" recently, but the literal meaning of the name Simon Peter is "hearing stone."

Nailed to stone instead of wood

This is a highly improbable sync, on a very specific and extremely unusual theme.

Yesterday, I read this in Hugh Nibley's Enoch the Prophet:

The Prometheus of Aeschylus takes place at the ends of the earth (line 1): no wholly human character appears in the play. Prometheus is being crucified for the crime of showing too much affection (philanthropia) for the human race and betraying the secrets of heaven to mortals. (Lines 28-38, 104ff.) The once heavenly Zeus has in his ambition become cruel and tyrannical; only Prometheus has the courage to resist and champion suffering mankind. The chorus enters in a spaceship -- an aerial chariot -- weeping and shedding their tears upon the mountains. (190ff.)

There was an endnote after the word crucified, which I checked -- because, as most people know, Prometheus's punishment was not crucifixion but being bound to a rock and having his liver eaten out by an eagle. Nibley's note reads:

His punishment differs from typical Roman crucifixion only in being on stone instead of wood. He is "raised up on high" (1.277), "nailed" (21, 56) sleepless in a standing position (32), and pierced with a spear-head (64).

Today, I read in Words of Them Liberated a scene in which the character Maunsh (who is apparently Moses) encounters a group of people whose feet have been nailed to logs:

Some hours passed before he heard the shrieks, and light darting upward, then shooting near passed; to follow, yet not direct, til he upon the scene a-stumbled, women and men, tied hand to tree, and feet into logs, nailed, howled, then changed to silence, fearing --

Like Prometheus, these unfortunates are both bound and "nailed."

Then --  I think, for as always the writing is not exactly clear -- the logs to which they are nailed turn out to be, in Nibley's words, "stone instead of wood":

And he brought a long nail from out a bag around his waist, and set its point on the foot-arch of Maunsh's neighbor rope wrapped; then with hammer as hand, Aule drove the spike direct into the stump -- no, a stone, unsplit.

"Call your Partner," and as directed the neighbor shrieked, then to see walk into the light circle, from out a shadow somehow, the Partner, and this one also, Ki-Abroam took by its paw-claw-arm's end, and while it stood willingly, tied the body to a tree high timbered, and straight, and then did he again set his spike, and drove it down, til the being was held, stone-bark;

Nibley emphasizes that Promethus is "raised up on high" and "in a standing position." Here, too, the crucified being "stood" and was affixed to "a tree high timbered."

In the paragraphs that follow, a monstrous bird of prey appears, which I think also somehow turns out to be made of stone or wood or something. Anyway, whatever the details, it syncs with the eagle that is so central to Prometheus's "crucifixion."

For me, nailing is always associated with Ninbad the Nailer, who is Martin Luther. In my recent dream "Joseph the Tirielist," Luther came up as "this guy who like hated logic." Nibley writes of Prometheus resisting Zeus and of the chorus arriving "in a spaceship" to comment on the result of that rebellion. Likewise, in the dream, Mark appeared in a low-flying airplane to ridicule Joseph, saying, "So after having put Luther in his place, he takes on God himself!"

In "A third reading of the Ninbad couplet," I included a picture of Luther, hammer in hand, nailing his theses to the wooden door of the Castle Church in Wittenberg. In "A darker view of the Three of Pentacles," I included a picture of that card, with a remarkably similar layout to the Luther picture. On the left, a man hammering something into the door or wall -- wood or stone -- of a church. On the right, two others looking on.

In both of those posts, the imagery was connected with dark oaths and what the Book of Mormon calls "secret combinations."

In "The Simarils and the Three of Pentacles," I wrote that the central pillar on that card resembles a tree-become-stone:

The design, with its central pillar, also suggests a silver tree -- a Tree of Pentacles if you will -- with the three pips as its fruit.

Note added: Immediately after publishing this, with its reference to "an aerial chariot," I received an email with an article titled "Chinese company creates flying taxi prototype" (something someone wanted to use in an English class). In "Just how far did Hinbad and Rinbad travel?" -- referencing character from the same Ulysses-derived poem that gave us Ninbad the Nailer -- I associated Hinbad's "yellow car" with both a taxi and Elijah's flying chariot of fire.

Filling Peter's shoes

In the dream recounted in "Joseph the Tirielist," someone called Peter "gave me a comically large pair of black hiking boots and said, 'Now you have to put these on!'" As I thought about this later, in waking life, this idea of being asked to put on much-too-large footwear made me think of the expression about being "unable to fill someone's shoes." Bill Wright at one point entertained the idea that I was the reincarnation of St. Peter, and the idea that I would ever be able to "fill the shoes" of the Prince of the Apostles is of course laughable. Another of his past-life proposals for me was the Tolkien character Ingwë, who "was ever held the High King of all the Elves," so the dream could involve a pun on "High-King" boots. (Now, of course, Bill's preferred theory is that I am some sort of malevolent shapeshifting cockroach. What can I say? "Fame is a fickle food / Upon a shifting plate.")

This idea of being unable to fill the shoes of one's own past self also syncs with the lines from Tennyson's Ulysses which I quoted earlier today in "Ulysses, dark horses, seer stones, Ki-Ab, Elbereth, the Eye of Horus, leaves of gold, and Cherubim":

We are not now that strength which in old days

Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are;

One equal temper of heroic hearts,

Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will

To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

Ulysses is of course yet another of my proposed alter egos -- though I think only symbolically and not as a literal reincarnation -- and if I were as delusional as this present post clearly shows me to be, I might take the liberty of capitalizing Tennyson's will and taking it as a reference to myself.

There is one reference to black (in the blacksmith's sense) footwear in the Bible, in Moses' final blessing to the Tribe of Asher:

Thy shoes shall be iron and brass; and as thy days, so shall thy strength be (Deut. 33:25).

Asher is also enjoined to wash his feet in olive oil (v. 24), and in the Fourth Gospel much is made of the washing of Peter's feet (John 13:6-10).

The second part of v. 25 means "you will be strong for as long as you live." This is clearly relevant to Tennyson's elderly Ulysses, who laments that he has "not now that strength which in old days / Moved earth and heaven" but reassures himself that he is still "strong in will" -- or, if the conceit be granted, "in Will."

Bill will be champing at the bit to say this, and I wouldn't want to tempt him to break his vow of silence, so I'll point it out myself: Ar-Pharazôn -- yes, another of my alter egos, currently the main one as far as Bill is concerned -- pretty literally "moved earth and heaven," as his actions directly resulted in a radical rearrangement of the world's geography. And in Daymon Smith's writings, Pharazôn is associated with iron footwear: When he invaded Tol Eressëa, as Daymon has it, he was accompanied by "the Nazgul Three," who "for feet . . . wore helmets of iron." (Helmet is of course as much a reference to my name as will is.)

Ulysses, dark horses, seer stones, Ki-Ab, Elbereth, the Eye of Horus, leaves of gold, and Cherubim

It's been a sync-heavy day, and the afternoon is still young. Let's see if I can get everything documented in a somewhat easy-to-follow fashion.

As I was falling asleep last night, I for some reason started mentally reciting to myself the closing lines of Ulysses, by a Tennyson who, no mean poet in his own right, was for the moment channeling a god: the incomparably great Dante, who walked with Homer and Virgil as their equal the shady groves of Elysium.

Push off, and sitting well in order smite

The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds

To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths

Of all the western stars, until I die.

It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:

It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,

And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.

Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho'

We are not now that strength which in old days

Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are;

One equal temper of heroic hearts,

Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will

To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

That closing line began to meld in my mind with the Four Powers of Éliphas Lévi -- to know, to will, to dare, and to be silent -- conjuring to mind, just at the moment I entered the fully sleeping state, a fleeting vision of the whirling Cherubim.

Around noon I had some business to attend to in Taichung, and as I usually do when business takes me there, I lunched at the Uptowner, which has the best lox-and-schmear omelettes you'll find on this little island. (Yes, I'm still on an omelette kick. And a lox-and-schmear kick.) As I entered the restaurant, Katy Perry's "Dark Horse" began playing in the background. The repeated lines "So you want to play with magic? . . . Baby, do you dare to do this?" made me think again of Ulysses and Éliphas Lévi and the Four Powers.

Katy Perry appeared on this blog this past January, in "Red and blue eyes, Egyptian edition," which began with the Eye of Horus and included this still from the "Dark Horse" music video:

The next song up was Lady Gaga: "Don't call my name, don't call my name, Alejandro," a line that would stick in my head for the rest of the afternoon. The only person of that name that I know anything about is Alejandro Jodorowsky, whose painstakingly reconstructed Tarot de Marseille -- created in partnership with Philippe Camoin, scion of the fabled house of Conver -- was one of the first decks I owned. It ended up, for complex psychological reasons, at the bottom of the Olentangy River. (I was still conflicted about the magnetic pull of the Tarot back then and was periodically swearing off what I still thought of as "the occult.") I've been trying to attract a new Marseille-pattern deck into my life, but so far without success. I thought Alejandro calling my name might be a sign that it was on its way, but so far, no.

I recently finished reading Joseph Smith's Seer Stones, which ends with an appendix collecting a very large number of contemporary accounts of the Prophet's specs and seer stones. One of these, from an 1835 Cleveland Whig article citing W. W. Phelps, stuck in my memory because of the strange error it contained:

We are credibly informed that the Mormons have purchased of Mr. Chandler, three of the mummies, which he recently exhibited in this village; and that the prophet Joe has ascertained, by examining the papyrus through his spectacles, that they are the bodies of Joseph (the son of Abraham,) and King Abimeleck and his daughter.

Who would know the relatively obscure biblical name Abimelech and yet think Joseph was the son of Abraham? Speaking of Ulysses (though a different work by that title), that's right up there with Leopold Bloom's misremembering a story about Isaac and Jacob as being about Abraham and his son Nathan.

I mention this here because while I was waiting for my omelette, I took out Words of Them Liberated and read (it was a short wait) a single page. The Words books have a lot to say about Joseph and Abraham (usually referred to by his Amestrahan name Ki-Abroam) but, like the Cleveland Whig, pass over Isaac and Jacob in silence (though it is perhaps implied that Dyacôm is Jacob). The single page I read happened to include this paragraph, in language Joyce-like in its convolutions:

And Ki-Ab pondered the wisdom rooted and over the well's corners, aflow; not all from the writings, he reconsidered earlier tongue lashings -- called up by the records daily heavier, to heft; but there is much at rest apriori his readings, and awakened by -- and the boy slept well, while Ki-Abroam looked upon Varda's Weave recalling when as a more-man-full, he lost in flight, gazed in awe at her band the sky circumpacting, holding forth to meet then, jewels two, pocketed where in a den was his own father -- in flesh, and singly incongruent with that kinship -- self slain; jewels for gazing afar and for inquiry, of what-whom, guessing alone could conjure up; for the respondents never answered, when asked name or residing at;

This seems to be referring to a pair of seer stones, like Joseph Smith's spectacles. Abraham is referred to by the abbreviated name Ki-Ab. The Whig juxtaposes Abraham with King Abimeleck, another Ki-Ab. Another detail from the Whig article, which I didn't notice until I copied it out for this post, is that it refers to a Mr. Chandler. In last night's dreams ("Joseph the Tirielist"), I unexpectedly ran into Mark, a friend from my teen years. I didn't mention his last name but am now compelled by the sync fairies to do so: Chandler.

As recounted in that dream post, upon waking I thought Tiriel might be a Tolkienian name and looked it up on Eldamo. As it is an inflected form and not a headword, my search initially turned up only palan-tîriel "far-gazer," a variant of  palan-díriel, from the hymn A Elbereth Gilthoniel, which begins thus:

A Elbereth Gilthoniel
silivren penna míriel
o menel aglar elenath!
Na-chaered palan-díriel

Eldamo translates these lines as follows:

O Elbereth who lit the stars
from glittering crystal slanting falls with light like jewels
from heaven on high the glory of the starry host
to lands remote I have looked afar

In the paragraph from Liberated that I have quoted above, Ki-Ab gazes in awe at "Varda's Weave," which apparently means the Milky Way. Elbereth is another name for Varda. The paragraph also refers to the seer stones as "jewels for gazing afar," a direct link to palan-tîriel.

Meanwhile, back in the Uptowner, the next song up was "Maneater" by Hall & Oates, which includes these lines:

Money's the matter
If you're in it for love, you ain't gonna get too far

This is also the message of Madonna's "Material Girl," which Joseph misquoted in my dream to explain what he meant by tirielist.

I finished my lunch and walked to a nearby bookstore, where I needed to select some new textbooks for one of my classes. On the way, I passed this advertisement on a wall:

It says "Eye of Horus" and has a cropped photo of King Tut's mummy case, with only a single blue-lined eye visible. The similarity to the "Dark Horse" still is obvious. It's the "wrong" eye -- the black or blue-green Eye of Horus is the left eye -- but it also matches this image from my earlier post that included the Katy Perry still:

Like the King Tut poster, the above image places the left Eye of Horus on our left, which would actually make it the right eye of the person we are looking at.

While I was at the bookstore, two books caught my eye: Wild Horses and Birds of Prey. Opening up the former at random, I found myself looking at what I later ascertained (by paging through the whole thing) was the only photo of a black horse in the entire book:

Thinking I might have similar luck with Birds of Prey, I opened it, too, to a random page and landed on a kite, recently the most prominent bird of prey in the sync stream:

Later, a third book caught my eye because of its title:

I had just been thinking about gold plates and "leaves of gold," because revisiting A Elbereth Gilthoniel had reminded me of another Tolkien song, the one that begins thus:

I sang of leaves, of leaves of gold, and leaves of gold there grew:

I posted about this in "Leaves of gold unnumbered" (January 2024), where I connected the leaves of gold with the gold plates.

Later, I checked some blogs and found a new Orthosphere post by J. M. Smith (does the J stand for Joseph, I wonder?) called "No Branch is Free of Yellow Leaves." He meant that every branch of Christianity is in decline, yellow leaves being the sign of an unhealthy tree, but in sync context I naturally thought again of "leaves of gold" in the sense of gold plates. In the Book of Mormon, branch usually refers to the tribes of Israel. "Are we not a branch of the house of Israel?" Nephi asks his brothers (1 Ne. 15:12). In my 2023 post "Who were the 13 luminous beings Lehi saw in his Jerusalem vision?" I wrote:

If Joseph -- in the form of the book kept by his tribe, the plates of brass -- will go forth unto all nations, what of the other 11 starry beings who also go forth? Well, according to Nephi's later prophecies, each of the other tribes will also produce a holy book, and these, too, will go forth to the world.

In other words, every branch of the House of Israel will produce its own "gold plates." No branch is free of yellow leaves.

In my 2024 post "Lassie Come Home," commenting on my vision of book which somehow is the Cherubim, I wrote:

Ezekiel's Cherubim represent (among many other things) the Twelve Tribes of Israel united in a single body. Combine that with the quote from 2 Nephi 29 above -- when "the house of Israel shall be gathered home . . . my word also shall be gathered in one" -- and I think I understand what this book, the Cherubim, represents.

This of course syncs with the brief glimpse of the Cherubim mentioned near the beginning of the present post.