Hyperborean Radio (The Final Episodes)
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369 kHz Jeff and Ike in The Morning. Your Roughneck Pagan Uncles, You Wish You Had and are Glad You Don’t! Speaking the truths we all know, but others fear to whisper.

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Dancing in the Emissary by Gary Carter
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Lordly Ones Appearing to a Turf Cutter by George William Russell
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My general vibe with most folks of late
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A Witch Goddess in the woods spinning, and controlling the sun and the moon. 1532 Woodcut by Hanz Weidetz
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My Vibe at Times
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Forwarded from The American Spirit
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Forwarded from π•°π–π–•π–Šπ–—π–Žπ–’π–Šπ–“π–™π–†π–‘ π•―π–Žπ–›π–Š π–€π–“π–Žπ–™: π•²π–“π–”π–˜π–™π–Žπ––π–šπ–Š
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https://www.givesendgo.com/emergency-relocation-for-mom-and-2-toddl
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By Jason Mowry
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Forwarded from The American Spirit
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Forwarded from The American Spirit
Rouge Bouquet
by Emmet Watson

"In a woods they call the Rouge Bouquet
There is a new-made grave today,
Built by never a spade nor pick,
Yet covered with earth ten meters thick.
There lie many fighting men,
Dead in their youthful prime,
Never to laugh nor love again
Or taste of the summer time;
For death came flying through the air
And stopped his flight at the dugout stair,
Touched his prey -
And left them there -
Clay to clay.
He hid their bodies stealthily
In the soil of the land they sought to free,
And fled away.
Now over the grave abrupt and clear
Three volleys ring;
And perhaps their brave young spirits hear
The bugle sing:
β€œGo to sleep!
Go to sleep!
Slumber well where the shell screamed and fell.
Let your rifles rest on the muddy floor,
You will not need them any more.
Danger’s past;
Now at last,
Go to sleep!”
There is on earth no worthier grave
To hold the bodies of the brave
Than this place of pain and pride
Where they nobly fought and nobly died.
Never fear but in the skies
Saints and angels stand
Smiling with their holy eyes
On this new-come band.
St. Michael’s sword darts through the air
And touches the aureole on his hair
As he sees them stand saluting there,
His stalwart sons;
And Patrick, Brigid, Columkill
Rejoice that in veins of warriors still
The Gael’s blood runs.
And up to Heaven’s doorway floats,
From the wood called Rouge Bouquet
A delicate cloud of bugle notes
That softly say:
β€œFarewell!
Farewell!
Comrades true, born anew, peace to you!
Your souls shall be where the heroes are
And your memory shine like the morning-star.
Brave and dear,
Shield us here.
Farewell!”
-The Wood Called Rouge Bouquet by Joyce Kilmer 1918

Kilmer and Watson Served Together in France in WW1
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Good Lad
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Solomon Kane by David Burton

"He never sought to analyze his motives and he never wavered, once his mind was made up. Though he always acted on impulse, he firmly believed that all his actions were governed by cold and logical reasonings. He was a man born out of his time - a strange blending of Puritan and Cavalier, with a touch of the ancient philosopher, and more than a touch of the pagan, though the last assertion would have shocked him unspeakably. An atavist of the days of blind chivalry he was, a knight errant in the somber clothes of a fanatic. A hunger in his soul drove him on and on, an urge to right all wrongs, protect all weaker things, avenge all crimes against right and justice. Wayward and restless as the wind, he was consistent in only one respect - he was true to his ideals of justice and right. Such was Solomon Kane".-Excerpt from The Moon of Skulls by Robert E. Howard

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Hyperborean Radio (Uncensored)?
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