I think the photographer’s name is Gordon Parker, I’ll have to find/check my notes… I’m going to try to leave this here for the time being because it’s good. I’m trying to figure if this lady is descended here from a lady named Otelia Cromwell, 1873-1972, who was the first black person to graduate from Smith College, and then she’d gotten a PhD from Yale. Maybe I’m around 3 or many more ladies who’re descended from Otelia and/or Ms. Watson here. Also this particular art-piece photo, a take-off of the Grant Woods’ “American Gothic” duo, the way she’s holding the implements reminds me of the “prehistoric art” of the Venus of Lespugue, which you can barely figure what it had looked like originally from the modern recreations of what people think it look like. That’s a whole theme to this “Armageddon” business that I haven’t been able to get to yet, that those little carved figurines seem to designate stereotyped lady-victims, women who’d been trapped and had their ovaries taken maybe, the Willendorf best-heard of one, the Venus of Wilendorf, this Lespugue one, the Venus of Dolnivestonice, which I think the “Julie” character that my Wilendorf/Willendorf one is plagued by, and one that I call Astarte, with its hands on its hips I think, that’d perhaps become the Zsa Zsa Gabor type. Mrs. Eleanor Roosevelt perhaps would have been a good example of the Lespugue. I think the statue represents having had 3 babies cut off of her, her trying to run carrying the babies away from the Autists and they’d of course eventually caught the lady and they got the kids, maybe one in her belly still, after hacking the 2 off of her breasts, is why that little statue is all hacked-up, but the recreations make it seem like out-sized large breasts. That “comb” in the back I’m not sure about. I’ll find and throw onto here the few little Eleanor Roosevelt with her children examples where she’d recalled to my mind the prehistoric statue.
(lifted from JPB-imagine.com; below from the Creative Commons.)
I guess i get more demerits for not yet cropping these illustrations than for getting them up anywhere at all but I’ve always got some time-limit, etc., this being the end of the planet Earth, our species and biology altogether and all. Notice how this guy might have been one of these “generational-slave #2 Merchant of Venice types. I lost all my illlustrations in 2014 and will try to find some of the prehistoric “Venus” figurines to put up in here as without a good one of the Lespugue you can’t really see what I’m talking about with Mrs. Roosevelt’s resemblance to that little statuette, like a model for this world-takeover Plan they were making during the invasion of Europe over and over again, Lespugue being in southern France there somewhere.
When an industrious slave named Willis Hodges Cromwell earned the money to obtain liberty for his wife, who subsequently bought freedom for him and their children, he set in motion a family saga that continues today. Now, in Unveiled Voices, Unvarnished Memories, his granddaughter, Adelaide M. Cromwell, documents the journey of her family from the slave marts of Annapolis to achievements in a variety of learned professions. The voices gathered here offer readers an inside look at the formation and networks of the African American elite and at the public and private world of individuals who refused to be circumscribed by racism and the ghetto while pursuing their own well-being. (from, I believe, ReadingList.com.)
In 1900 Otelia Cromwell, of Washington D.C., became the first African American to earn a college degree at Smith College, the well-known liberal arts women’s college in Northampton, Massachusetts. A native of Washington, D.C., Cromwell originally enrolled in the historically black Miner Teachers College in the District of Columbia. She then transferred to Smith as a junior. Under the Smith college rules prevailing at that time, she was not permitted to live in an on-campus dormitory at Smith. Instead she was obliged to live in the home of a professor.
After graduating from Smith in 1900, Cromwell went on to earn a master’s degree in 1910 from Columbia University and a Ph.D. in English from Yale in 1926. She later chaired the English language and literature department at Miner Teachers College in the nation’s capital until her retirement in 1944 at the age of 70. She was the author of three books. Dr. Cromwell died in 1972 at the age of 98. Each fall Smith College celebrates Otelia Cromwell Day. (from Lipstick Alley.com)
from Cultural Tourism DC’s website: , John Wesley Cromwell Residence, African American Heritage Trail, — lost that piece, but found this one:
Use of images
Anyone (students, teachers, lecturers, writers of books, film/video makers, the general public) may use and reproduce, crop and alter the photographs which I have made of objects and scenes at no charge, and without asking permission. If you decide to use one or more of my images, I would be grateful if you would include a credit such as ‘Photo: Don Hitchcock, donsmaps.com’ or similar, at the place you normally put your credits. Obviously this does not apply for any rephotography I have made of existing photographs and diagrams from other people, in which case copyright remains with the original photographer or artist. Nor does it apply where there is some other weird copyright law which overrides my permission.
— I could not find my way back to this search engine, the search-line disappeared after I’d looked at this Don’s Maps.com’s write-up on the Venus of Lespugue, so that it seems very dangerous to the uninitiated to try going there. I’m going to have to go back because he’s got all kinds of prehistory stuff on there, which is mostly what I’m supposed to be dealing with according to myself, is the world that nobody else could easily be trying to get to because the field is ravaged. — I put his pictures here and wrote the paragraph below and checked to see how the Neanderthal illustration pdf’d and “Don’s Maps” work did not show up in the view, only in this background editing, so I had to delete it. He seems to have “difficulties” like I’m always plagued by.
I can’t figure how this works. But I found the typing space under the pictures. In the back there’s some sort of a bizarre “upside-down comb” or rake-like comb-looking thing. Maybe it was a seat, maybe she’d been using it for combing her hair and the Autist “boys” I figure had ravaged Europe to over the cliffs had taken her comb and stuck it up her you-know-where, type of a stereotypical pattern. Usually only some awful “modern-recreation” of this is shown where those are huge bulbous breasts, but I think mostly she was trying to hold and run with children she’d been breastfeeding when the “boys” came and wanted some too, really, same way the dinosaurs’d been extincted, the developmentally disabled “lost” back then humans just wanted to be fed by others and demanded that. I took a photo I guess I’ll have to send tonight, — of Ms. Ella Watson, above portrait, with her 3 grandchildren like Ms. Roosevelt is with her 3 first, and this lady here was probably trying to run with 3 kids is where that pattern “got descended” from. This “Sea Monkey” or “bum” with the coughing and sneezing all over the area’d gotten me so upset that I forgot to recharge the cell phone, and living homeless it’s real difficult to find places I can do that or take photos or think straight, the rotten bums, the “Armageddon Program” getting worse and worse, — it’s all extemporized, I’ve survived because they live off of me, me trying to find assistance and them sitting underground and grabbing any normal guys that get tricked into feeling any sympathy for myself, — going on like this with that line from the fraud-parent since 1964 that I’m now aware of, never realizing there was anything wrong with him and then not any idea what the problem might be but I left the Bronx apartment in 1973 and when I found out that the “Autism” is connected to hallucinogen-use I realized that that was what was odd about the fraud-parent, the -use. I’ll go looking for this “funny” -attempt little picture I’d sent him back in 2006, but since the car-hit I just don’t want any more trouble with any of those people and now it’s all as though it IS the Armageddon-business and not the Autism-psychopathy that I’m sure is based under Siber-Mongolia. — It’s just a little cartoon-like illustration, I don’t have a photo of it yet after all:
#200, Neanderthal illustration
from Bjorn Kurten’s “How to Deep-Freeze a Mammoth.pdf –— I’d sent a copy of this picture with my note under it that
“There are ways of eating brains and there are ways of eating brains,” with it in my mind that perhaps there was something I didn’t know about that might necessitate that that be done in some cases, but it’s just been a rout on myself, these people are all just getting high and doing it as though they are somehow intellectually smarter/superior to their victims, etc. That brings up that the “connisseurs,” (I’ll fix the spelling soon,) are likely experts on the different types of highs you’d get off of different parts of the brain, specifically me meaning this about my supposing that there must have been some fluid in the corpus callosum that had leaked, maybe an “essential oil,” that there are probably experts on the subject who could easily simply acknowledge whether that part of the brain the preferred part to get their highs from or what the “stuff markets for,” the prices or costs, etc. I’d thought the note was “giving benefit of the doubt” once I realized that that must be what was going on all the time I was growing up that’d made things to be the peculiar that it was like for me, just always odd, eerie, but unprovably so. I’d figured the brain-eating from reading an expert’s, Simon Baron-Cohen’s, 2005 I think, “Autism: The Facts,” and he’d mentioned that 30% of the Autism-diagnosed children had something high or low with their serotonin levels. Serotonin also comes from psychotropic mushrooms and I figured those had been available when they’d found the way to the New World, that there’d been lots of evolving psychotropic plants for our future pleasure, and to help the dinosaurs learn to fly. (It’s really sad that instead of then us learning how to ride flying dinosaurs and learning to spirit-fly our own selves then things just went a little wrong and this drug-addiction Autism took over. I always stress the Autism aspect of this because that’s mainly about “repetition for self-isness,” that it’s like being frozen within yourself instead of extending outward and doing the same things over and over and over in the frozen way.)
Joseph von Sternberg quote from the end of his 1965 “Fun In a Chinese Laundry” memoir:
“The Orientals believe that the air, like a cave full of bats, overflows with a swarm of demons and evil spirits who swoop down on hmans to plague them, and entire complex systems of theologies are based on trying to open some spiritual umbrella to keep from being pelted.”
Sternberg orientals …,” — From the last page of film director Joseph von Sternberg’s 1967 memoir, “Fun In a Chinese Laundry, “The Orientals believe that the air, like a cave full of bats, overflows with a swarm of demons and evil spirits who swoop down on humans to plague them, and entire complex systems of theologies are based on trying to open some spiritual umbrella to keep from being pelted.” I’m saying that that’s from the errant first trip across Beringia, from guilt-comples of knowing they weren’t supposed to keep going north and east over it and playing stupid to ignore nature’s warning signs, and then in the accidental egg-smashed extincition of the dinosaurs and paranoia that came from that, leading to all the wars and now our eventual extinction from still just playing stupid and ignoring what I’m calling the Autism, the damage that had happened because of the premature trip across Beringia.