The Watchers Book Quotes

Excuse me? Tonight you represent every dateless woman in this city, every woman who's about to sit down to a lonely meal of Weight Watchers past primavera she's just nuked in the microwave. Every woman who will get into bed tonight with a book or reruns of Sex and the City as her only companion. You are our shining hope....But no pressure.

An overhead light blinked and extinguished. Armitage drew the pistol with his right hand. He swung and aimed, checking there were no innocent people obstructing the way. None. Fired a single shot. It sailed over a plant and table setting. The round hit an inch from the watcher's heart. On impact the brown-haired assailant tipped. Jake ducked. A table toppled. The watcher groaned as the force of the momentum pushed him toward the floor-to-ceiling glass wall. A second table collapsed, plates thrown asunder. Jake stepped forward, arm stretched and gun straight. A waitress hugged herself, crying. Two more male patrons hit the floor and crawled between chairs.

we're watchers of this world aren't we? not players

You're a little bit of a show-off. First you get us out of hell. And then you defeat like the biggest, baddest Watcher on the books, and then you go on a high-speed, very high-altitude chase, and then you resuscitate the dead. Are you done? Because seriously, I don't know if I can take any more excitement.

You're like me. We're watchers of this world, aren't we? Not players.

Perhaps this is what Henry James meant when he talked about the “irresponsibility” of characters. Characters are irresponsible, art is irresponsible when compared to life, because it is first and foremost important that a character be real, and as readers or watchers we tend to applaud any effort made towards the construction of that reality. We do not, of course, indulge actual people in the world this way at all. In real life, the fact that something seems real to someone is not enough to interest us, or to convince us that that reality is interesting. But the self-reality of fictional characters is deeply engrossing, which is why villains are lovable in literature in ways that they are not in life.

Putting the dish and the book aside, she stared anxiously at the telephone,

he's got more heavies out looking for you than are on the books of Weight Watchers

Remember, if you systematically erase the past, you can control the future by filling in the blanks with whatever you want people to believe. This is the weaponization of history, my friends.

In this book industry we have different kinds of birds; excepting one; all having in common that they are ONLY watchers and squawkers at the pond. We have readers, editors, reviewers, interviewers, publishers, marketers, websites, monopolies, and writers. All are better compensated than the writers. Yet the system is totally upside down as those better rewarded are all derivative of what is primary; the writer. Without that person the readers have nothing to read; the editors have nothing to edit; the reviewers have nothing to review; the interviewers have no one to interview; the publishers have nothing to publish; the marketers have nothing to market; the website cannot adware infect ‘members,’ and the legalized monopolies have nothing to monopolize. So, in effect, this is where the troll steps in. He’s kind of a writer; but he’s not taking the time to churn out masterpieces. He’s just effortlessly telling the vultures exactly what they are.

Plain, homely women like you and me will never lead a glamorous life, never go to exotic places. So books have a special value to us. We can experience most everything vicariously, through books. This isn't bad. Living through books is even better than having friends and knowing... men.

If you are in difficulties with a book,” suggested H. G. Wells, “try the element of surprise: attack it at an hour when it isn’t expecting it.” This was one way Gail Godwin learned to outfox her “watcher” (the inner critic who kept an eye on her as she worked): looking for times to write when she was off guard. Other tactics Godwin found helpful included writing too fast and in unexpected places and times; working when tired; writing in purple ink on the back of charge card statements; and jotting down whatever came to mind while a tea kettle boiled, using its whistle as a deadline. “Deadlines are a great way to outdistance the watcher,” advised Godwin.

A BOILERMAKER KILLS GERMS DEAD. "Where'd you get that idea?" BOOK. WHAT'S BOILERMAKER? Travis said, "A shot of whiskey dropped into a glass of beer." Einstein considered that for a moment. KILL GERMS BUT BECOME ALCOHOLIC. Travis laughed and ruffled Einstein's coat. "You're a regular comedian, fur face." MAYBE I SHOULD PLAY VEGAS.

She brought the brandy bottle and a glass to the table. She had read books in which characters had sat down with a fifth of booze and a heavy load of despair, determined to use the former to wash away the latter. Sometimes it worked for them, so maybe it would work for her. If brandy could improve her state of mind even marginally, she was prepared to drink the whole damn bottle.

Cletus Byron Winston, you are being rude.” I might have my own less than glowing thoughts about my father, but he was my father. He opened his mouth to respond, then snapped it shut and did a double take, his eyes narrowing on me. “First of all, how do you know my middle name?” “Your momma used to use it when you were naughty, when you boys would help her shelve books in the library. ‘Cletus Byron! Stop stuffing Astrophysics Monthly down your pants!’” Cletus grinned. Then he chuckled. His eyes lost some of their zealous focus as he pushed away from the tree and strolled closer. “Oh yeah. She did, didn’t she?” “I felt sorry for Billy, though.” I scooched to one side as he sat down. “His name always confused everyone, like your momma was trying to talk to Shakespeare’s ghost. ‘William Shakespeare, would you please stop Beauford from pulling down his pants in front of the girls?’” Cletus laughed harder, leaning backward and holding his stomach. “I remember that. How old was Beau?” “He was ten. He was trying to show us his new Tarzan underwear. I don’t think he meant any harm.” “He sure did love that underwear.” Cletus nodded and he scratched his beard. “I’m going to have to find him some Tarzanunderwear in adult size.” “So you can torture him about it?” He pretended to be shocked by my accusation. “Certainly not. I don’t torture my siblings.” “Yeah, right.” I gave him my side-eye. “You forget, I’m a people watcher. I know you sell embarrassing pictures of them onstock photo sites. Jethro was griping about it after church over the summer. If it’s not torture, what do you call it then?” He lifted his chin proudly. “I offer invaluable character building opportunities. I help them reach their true potential through suffering.” “Oh, please

In those days, even in European countries, death had a solemn social importance. It was not regarded as a moment when certain bodily organs ceased to function, but as a dramatic climax, a moment when the soul made its entrance into the next world, passing in full consciousness through a lowly door to an unimaginable scene. Among the watchers there was always the hope that the dying man might reveal something of what he alone could see; that his countenance, if not his lips, would speak, and on his features would fall some light or shadow from beyond. The “Last Words” of great men, Napoleon, Lord Byron, were still printed in gift-books, and the dying murmurs of every common man and woman were listened for and treasured by their neighbors and kinsfolk. These sayings, no matter how unimportant, were given oracular significance and pondered by those who must one day go the same road.

Azazel is also listed as one of the Watchers, angelic creatures from the Book of Enoch, a text no longer canonical under any large Christian faith. These Watchers were not expelled from Paradise, but were punished by god for having children with humans, and teaching them science, technology, and other crafts. Azazel in particular taught humans how to make weapons, as well as ornaments and cosmetics. Other Watchers taught them how to write and make paper, how to read signs and predict the weather, and how to study the heavens with astrology.

In all our wanderings the watchful glance of the Eternal Watcher is evermore fixed upon us--we never roam beyond the Shepherd's eye. In our sorrows he observes us incessantly, and not a pang escapes him; in our toils he marks all our weariness, and writes in his book all the struggles of his faithful ones. These thoughts of the Lord encompass us in all our paths, and penetrate the innermost region of our being. Not a nerve or tissue, valve or vessel, of our bodily organization is uncared for; all the littles of our little world are thought upon by the great God.

Of course, people find beauty in things without wet noses, too. But there is something unique about the ways in which we fall in love with animals. Unwieldy dogs and minuscule dogs and long-haired and sleek dogs, snoring Saint Bernards, asthmatic pugs, unfolding shar-peis, and depressed-looking basset hounds - each with devoted fans. Bird-watchers spend frigid mornings scanning skies and scrub for the feathered objects of their fascination. Cat lovers display an intensity lacking - thank goodness - in most human relationships. Children’s books are constellated with rabbits and mice and bears and caterpillars, not to mention spiders, crickets, and alligators. Nobody ever had a plush toy shaped like a rock, and when the most enthusiastic stamp collector refers to loving stamps, it is an altogether different kind of affection.

In those days, even in European countries, death had a solemn social importance. It was not regarded as a moment when certain bodily organs ceased to function, but as a dramatic climax, a moment when the soul made its entrance into the next world, passing in full consciousness through a lowly door to an unimaginable scene. Among the watchers there was always the hope that the dying man might reveal something of what he alone could see; that his countenance, if not his lips, would speak, and on his features would fall some great light or shadow from beyond. The “Last Words” of great men, Napoleon, Lord Byron, were still printed in gift-books, and the dying murmurs of every common man or woman were listened for and treasured by their neighbours and kinsfolk. These sayings, no matter how unimportant, were given oracular significance and pondered by those who must one day go the same road.

Why would you, the werecats, have been entrusted with this information? Because, I would guess, we have always been friends of the Riders and friends of the dragons…We are the watchers. The listeners. The wanderers. We walk alone in the dark places of the world, and we remember what is and what has been. Solembum’s gaze shifted away. Understand this, Eragon. None of us have been happy with the situation. We long debated whether it would cause more harm than good to pass on this information should the moment arise. In the end, the decision was mine, and I decided to tell you, for it seemed you needed all the help you could get. Make of it what you will. “But what am I supposed to do?” said Eragon. “How am I supposed to find the Rock of Kuthian?” That I cannot say. “Then what use is the information? I might as well have never heard it.” Solembum blinked, once. There is one other thing I can tell you. It may mean nothing, but perhaps it can show you the way. “What? What is it?” If you but wait, I will tell you. When I first met you in Teirm, I had a strange feeling that you ought to have the book Domia abr Wyrda. It took me time to arrange it, but it was I who was responsible for Jeod giving the book to you. Then the werecat lifted his other paw and, after a cursory examination, began to lick it. “Have you gotten any other strange feelings in the past few months?” asked Eragon. Only the urge to eat a small red mushroom, but it passed quickly enough.

But here’s the dilemma: Why is “how-to” so alluring when, truthfully, we already know “how to” yet we’re still standing in the same place longing for more joy, connection, and meaning? Most everyone reading this book knows how to eat healthy. I can tell you the Weight Watcher points for every food in the grocery store. I can recite the South Beach Phase I grocery shopping list and the glycemic index like they’re the Pledge of Allegiance. We know how to eat healthy. We also know how to make good choices with our money. We know how to take care of our emotional needs. We know all of this, yet … We are the most obese, medicated, addicted, and in-debt Americans EVER. Why? We have more access to information, more books, and more good science—why are we struggling like never before? Because we don’t talk about the things that get in the way of doing what we know is best for us, our children, our families, our organizations, and our communities. I can know everything there is to know about eating healthy, but if it’s one of those days when Ellen is struggling with a school project and Charlie’s home sick from school and I’m trying to make a writing deadline and Homeland Security increased the threat level and our grass is dying and my jeans don’t fit and the economy is tanking and the Internet is down and we’re out of poop bags for the dog—forget it! All I want to do is snuff out the sizzling anxiety with a pumpkin muffin, a bag of chips, and chocolate. We don’t talk about what keeps us eating until we’re sick, busy beyond human scale, desperate to numb and take the edge off, and full of so much anxiety and self-doubt that we can’t act on what we know is best for us. We don’t talk about the hustle for worthiness that’s become such a part of our lives that we don’t even realize that we’re dancing. When I’m having one of those days that I just described, some of the anxiety is just a part of living, but there are days when most of my anxiety grows out of the expectations I put on myself. I want Ellen’s project to be amazing. I want to take care of Charlie without worrying about my own deadlines. I want to show the world how great I am at balancing my family and career. I want our yard to look beautiful. I want people to see us picking up our dog’s poop in biodegradable bags and think, My God! They are such outstanding citizens. There are days when I can fight the urge to be everything to everyone, and there are days when it gets the best of me.

THIS IS MY ABC BOOK of people God loves. We’ll start with . . .           A: God loves Adorable people. God loves those who are Affable and Affectionate. God loves Ambulance drivers, Artists, Accordion players, Astronauts, Airplane pilots, and Acrobats. God loves African Americans, the Amish, Anglicans, and Animal husbandry workers. God loves Animal-rights Activists, Astrologers, Adulterers, Addicts, Atheists, and Abortionists.           B: God loves Babies. God loves Bible readers. God loves Baptists and Barbershop quartets . . . Boys and Boy Band members . . . Blondes, Brunettes, and old ladies with Blue hair. He loves the Bedraggled, the Beat up, and the Burnt out . . . the Bullied and the Bullies . . . people who are Brave, Busy, Bossy, Bitter, Boastful, Bored, and Boorish. God loves all the Blue men in the Blue Man Group.           C: God loves Crystal meth junkies,           D: Drag queens,           E: and Elvis impersonators.           F: God loves the Faithful and the Faithless, the Fearful and the Fearless. He loves people from Fiji, Finland, and France; people who Fight for Freedom, their Friends, and their right to party; and God loves people who sound like Fat Albert . . . “Hey, hey, hey!”           G: God loves Greedy Guatemalan Gynecologists.           H: God loves Homosexuals, and people who are Homophobic, and all the Homo sapiens in between.           I: God loves IRS auditors.           J: God loves late-night talk-show hosts named Jimmy (Fallon or Kimmel), people who eat Jim sausages (Dean or Slim), people who love Jams (hip-hop or strawberry), singers named Justin (Timberlake or Bieber), and people who aren’t ready for this Jelly (Beyoncé’s or grape).           K: God loves Khloe Kardashian, Kourtney Kardashian, Kim Kardashian, and Kanye Kardashian. (Please don’t tell him I said that.)           L: God loves people in Laos and people who are feeling Lousy. God loves people who are Ludicrous, and God loves Ludacris. God loves Ladies, and God loves Lady Gaga.           M: God loves Ministers, Missionaries, and Meter maids; people who are Malicious, Meticulous, Mischievous, and Mysterious; people who collect Marbles and people who have lost their Marbles . . . and Miley Cyrus.           N: God loves Ninjas, Nudists, and Nose pickers,           O: Obstetricians, Orthodontists, Optometrists, Ophthalmologists, and Overweight Obituary writers,           P: Pimps, Pornographers, and Pedophiles,           Q: the Queen of England, the members of the band Queen, and Queen Latifah.           R: God loves the people of Rwanda and the Rebels who committed genocide against them.           S: God loves Strippers in Stilettos working on the Strip in Sin City;           T: it’s not unusual that God loves Tom Jones.           U: God loves people from the United States, the United Kingdom, and the United Arab Emirates; Ukrainians and Uruguayans, the Unemployed and Unemployment inspectors; blind baseball Umpires and shady Used-car salesmen. God loves Ushers, and God loves Usher.           V: God loves Vegetarians in Virginia Beach, Vegans in Vietnam, and people who eat lots of Vanilla bean ice cream in Las Vegas.           W: The great I AM loves will.i.am. He loves Waitresses who work at Waffle Houses, Weirdos who have gotten lots of Wet Willies, and Weight Watchers who hide Whatchamacallits in their Windbreakers.           X: God loves X-ray technicians.           Y: God loves You.           Z: God loves Zoologists who are preparing for the Zombie apocalypse. God . . . is for the rest of us. And we have the responsibility, the honor, of letting the world know that God is for them, and he’s inviting them into a life-changing relationship with him. So let ’em know.

Rather, I’m the kind of person who makes watercolors of sunsets in the summer while drinking cocktails on my roof, who reads a book a week and goes to French movies. My friends often cite my life as being an inspiration to them, and I have quite rigorously assembled something that looks really good from the outside. But that performance has always been a stark contrast to how I feel about myself.

They say a desperate soul would do anything to get what he wants, but even a desperate soul cannot match a man who believes he has nothing to lose.

I already lost everything, what’s there to hide?

The Watcher lived for one thing and one thing only; fighting for the oppressed.

If he stops Arnold, it would be for the good of the people of Boston. Arnold was a wolf in sheep’s clothing and needed to be exposed for who he

The Theory of Intuition in Husserl’s Phenomenology. Books still came with their leaves uncut. Sartre tore the edges of Levinas’ book open without waiting to use a paperknife, and began reading as he walked down the street. He could have been Keats, encountering Chapman’s translation of Homer: Then felt I like some watcher of the skies, When a new planet swims into his ken; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He star’d at the Pacific — and all his men Look’d at each other with a wild surmise — Silent, upon a peak in Darien.

The book of Jubilees states that Enoch, the early patriarch, ‘was the first one from among the children of men that are born on the Earth to learn writing and the knowledge of wisdom—and he wrote the signs of heaven’. These signs (from the Table of Destiny) are described as being the ‘science of the Watchers’, which had been carved in a rock in distant times, and Enoch

[23] For God created man to be immortal, and made him to be an image of his own eternity.​ [24] Nevertheless through envy of the devil came death into the world: and they that do hold of his side do find it.

spirits, sent forth to minister for them who shall be heirs of salvation?" Hebrews 1:14 Angels are the unseen attendants of the saints of God; they bear us up in their hands, lest we dash our foot against a stone. Loyalty to their Lord leads them to take a deep interest in the children of his love; they rejoice over the return of the prodigal to his father's house below, and they welcome the advent of the believer to the King's palace above. In olden times the sons of God were favoured with their visible appearance, and at this day, although unseen by us, heaven is still opened, and the angels of God ascend and descend upon the Son of man, that they may visit the heirs of salvation. Seraphim still fly with live coals from off the altar to touch the lips of men greatly beloved. If our eyes could be opened, we should see horses of fire and chariots of fire about the servants of the Lord; for we have come to an innumerable company of angels, who are all watchers and protectors of the seed-royal. Spenser's line is no poetic fiction, where he sings-- "How oft do they with golden pinions cleave The flitting skies, like flying pursuivant Against foul fiends to aid us militant!" To what dignity are the chosen elevated when the brilliant courtiers of heaven become their willing servitors! Into what communion are we raised since we have intercourse with spotless celestials! How well are we defended since all the twenty- thousand chariots of God are armed for our deliverance! To whom do we owe all this? Let the Lord Jesus Christ be forever endeared to us, for through him we are made to sit in heavenly places far above principalities and powers.

(You may read all about the coast watchers in a book called “Lonely Vigil - Coastwatchers of the Solomons, ” by Walter Lord.)

Honour and shame is in talk: and the tongue of man is his fall.

A faithfu1l friend is a strong defence: and he that hath found such an one hath found a treasure

A faithful friend is the medicine of life; and they that fear the Lord shall find him.

This, right here, beats for you. Do you feel it Amabel? It needs you and only you.” He said, still looking into my eyes as a tear fell down my cheek.

More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope,” Romans 5:3-4

Action Plan: Sit in a quiet place where you won’t be interrupted for ten minutes. If you have family in the house, you might tell them not to bother you during these few minutes. Close your eyes and take five slow, deep diaphragmatic breaths (as described in the previous breathing exercise). Breathing helps ground you in the present and calm you enough to become the “silent watcher” of your thoughts. Imagine yourself sitting in a chair inside of your brain, as the observer of your thoughts. This visualization helps you separate yourself from the thoughts you are observing. Wait for a thought to enter your mind and simply notice it. You might even say to yourself, “There’s a thought entering my brain.” If the thought triggers an emotion, like anxiety or sadness, notice the emotion without judging it. You might say to yourself, “That thought triggered the feeling of sadness.” Don’t linger on the emotion or judge yourself for having it. Just move on to observing the next thought. Notice the patterns and frequency of your thoughts and how they arise spontaneously, even as you sit and observe. See them as powerless objects that float in and out of your mind, like blowing leaves or clouds. As you come to the end of this ten-minute time, remind yourself that your thoughts are not you and they have no power over you. By observing them as “blowing leaves,” you will reduce the emotional triggers they produce, giving you more peace of mind and contentment.

Our sanctification is more like a Weight Watchers program than listening to a book on tape.

Mo nodded toward the back room just as Rabbi Kessler shuffled out, waving an open book at Mo and grinning from ear to ear. ‘So listen to this, Mo! Here’s how Rabbi Halberstam answers your question. And what’s more, he quotes Rashi, Rabbi Akiva, and Ramban, all of whom he completely disagrees with. And you know what? I completely disagree with all of them—and him too!’ Rabbi Kessler chuckled in gleeful anticipation. ‘So roll up your sleeves, Mo. We’ve got our work cut out for us!

Belief is ever its own tempter to believe differently. You cannot believe freedom into existence, but can you free yourself from belief ? You cannot believe the ‘Truth’ into existence either, but you need not compromise yourself. The Way of Life is not by ‘means’, not even of my own doctrines, though they may allow the self-appointed to emulate my own realisation – may I never cease to be embarrassed by this! How ironic it is that the Man of Sorrows is here the teacher! I have taught – would I choose to teach myself or yourself again? No – not even for a gift from heaven! Mastership equals learning and constant unlearning! Almighty is he who has not learned – and Almighty also is the baby, who only assimilates! The most uncouth of fools now asks: ‘But how can we escape the inevitable evolutions of conception, since all is forever conceiving?’ My answer is true for all situations: listen, you who are God already, yet still want to be God. When the mind is confused to the point that it comes to a standstill,it is then that the capability of attempting the apparently impossible becomes known: by that simple state of ‘Neither-Neither’ the Ego becomes the ‘Silent Watcher’ or ‘Observer’ and understands it all!29 The ‘Why’and ‘How’of desire are contained within the mystic state of ‘Neither-Neither’, and it is such a source of nutrition to life that it may be called the ‘milk state’. Although I am but a clownish fool, all my ideas and yours have come out of it, and although I myself am lazy, regard me as an old sinner who would see others exalted before himself.

After years of watching newborns smile, we wish to deflate the gas bubble. Newborns do smile, and not because of gas (unless after passing it). As veteran smile watchers we divide smiles into two types: inside smiles and outside smiles. Inside smiles, occurring in the first few weeks, are a beautiful reflection of an inner feeling of rightness. Some are sleep grins; some are only a happy twitch in the corner of the mouth. Relief smiles occur after being rescued from a colicky period, after a satisfying feeding, or after being picked up and rocked. During face-to-face games is another time to catch a smile. Baby’s early smiles convey an “I feel good inside” message and leave you feeling good inside. Be prepared to wait until next month for the true outside (or social) smiles, which you can initiate and which will absolutely captivate all adoring smile watchers. Whatever their cause, enjoy these fleeting grins as glimpses of the whole happy-face smiles that are soon to come.

Watcher of the Gate, let us die and die again, the little deaths that mean growth and change. Let the parts of us that need to die go, and the parts that need to live stay. May we pass through your doorway in glory when the last dying comes!

what are the seraphim and how are they different from cherubim?” “Seraphim are specially appointed Watchers, the reptilian ones, with six wings, that guard the throne of Elohim.” Salah kept right on moving without a pause. “So the seraphim are like the Serpent of Eden?” “Yes. But the Serpent of Eden is an unfortunate misnomer. The Nachash is unquestionably serpentine in his character, justifying the legends surrounding him as one of the seraphim who guarded Elohim’s throne.

But he was not merely a serpent. His name in another sense meant ‘brazen brightness,’ and like other Watchers, he was a Shining One. His body was like beryl, his face like the appearance of lightning, his eyes like torches of fire, his arms and feet like burnished bronze. The ‘Serpent of Eden’ became a useful allusion, because he had been cursed by Elohim to crawl the earth away from his heavenly abode with the Sons of God.

Initiation into the secrets of the Watchers was both a sacred privilege and a dangerous responsibility. These gods, who had come from heaven to earth, had revealed many secrets to mankind, secrets of sorcery, apothecary, charms and enchantments, witchcraft, as well as astrological worship and the making of idols and their ritual incantations. They had also revealed the art of metal making for both ornament and war. The thought of admission into this cabal of mystery made Ham’s entire being well up with exhilaration.

Welcome to my holy temple. I am Anu, the supreme god, king of kings, and lord of lords. My consort, Inanna, Queen of heaven and earth.” He paused ceremoniously with an arrogant grin. “But you already knew that.” Then, the mocking stab, “So, where is your god?” Noah would not dignify the remark. Instead, he prophesied, “I know who you are, Semjaza and Azazel, fallen Sons of God. You have laid the nations low, you sit on the mount of assembly, you have made yourselves like the Most High. But you will be brought down to Sheol.” Inanna broke in bitterly, “He imagines himself a prophet now, and privy to the Watchers’ secrets.

that at one and the same time, man was more exalted than Elohim made him, and yet that man was created to be a slave of the Anunnaki. In this way, the Watchers built a complete religion of idolatry that opposed Elohim’s rule and corrupted the entire human race. The fallen Sons of God could not attack the living God Elohim directly, but they could attack him indirectly by despoiling his heaven-bound image of royal representative into an earth-bound image of debased slave.

My father Enoch first told us of the Watchers, the Sons of God.” Uriel explained, “They were in Elohim’s divine council. They fell from heaven and made themselves gods on earth. Two hundred of them, led by Semjaza and Azazel. They landed on Mount Hermon in the region of Bashan in the north.” The others were rapt in attention. Uriel continued, “Along with those two hundred, a number of lesser angels or mal’akim, the lower messengers of Elohim, also came into the world.” “What do you mean, lower? Are they weaker?” asked Jubal. Uriel shook his head. “To call these angels lower in rank than the Sons of God is misleading. Mal’akim are warriors who have the wisdom of sages and the power of several men.

It was in Bashan that the first of the mighty warrior giants appeared. They became kings called the Rephaim and they spread out on the land to rule after the Watchers came down from heaven. These Rephaim had first ruled the cities then led their evil minions in the great Titanomachy.” He took a deep breath. “They were hunted down and cast into Sheol by the archangels, where they remained to this day.” Uriel nodded.

The Watchers set up their rule as gods and began to teach mankind sorceries, astrology, warfare and other violations of the natural order. They have instituted an aggressive program of breeding. They want to create their own paradise. They saw the daughters of men and mated with them to create the Nephilim as their own bloodline. They have enslaved humanity as their servants to build them temples. They have structured their temples to look like the original cosmic Mount Hermon. They even call the temple shape ‘holy mountains.

He is the God El Shaddai in earthly form?” Mikael nodded with a smile. Now Abram knew why his form was familiar. He was the one who met Abram in the fire. But now Abram had his wits about him. “Why on earth would he do such a thing?” said Abram. It was beyond his comprehension that the Creator of the heavens and the earth, the Maker of all things visible and invisible, would condescend to such a humiliating form as that of a man. It reminded him too much of those pretenders to the throne, those Watcher gods of the earth.

But instead of the portal opening up for more Watchers to come down, the assembly of the gods felt the horrifying pull of the whirlwind upward. This was not the plan.   Abram saw all the gods in the shrine sucked up into the whirlwind. He looked at Mikael, who laughed heartily. It was the opposite of what the gods had expected. Before Abram could grasp what he had seen, the earth rumbled beneath their feet. The land before them rose up like a rug being shaken. The ripple of earth traveled speedily toward Babylon.

The rebel Watchers stood before the council, still naked and awash in human blood and their own excrement, their shame dripping from their members. The satan took his position as their defense attorney, across from the enigmatic Son of Man. Normally, Mastema in his role as the satan, was a prosecuting attorney. But in this case, he had become the collective bargainer for this despicable union of corrupt hoodlums. There would be no testimony or cross-examination. Today was a summary judgment from on high.

The Son of Man addressed the Watchers on trial, “This day, Yahweh Elohim has given over the peoples of the earth to their depravity. He has divided mankind and has given the nations their inheritance. He has fixed the borders of the people according to the number of the Sons of God, those Watchers who have remained on earth. All of humanity has incorrigibly worshipped false gods, so false gods will be their inheritance.” Marduk thought to himself, Is he actually giving us the nations to rule over? What is the fine print? What is he not telling us?

The Son of Man continued, “Yahweh Elohim has allotted the fallen host of heaven to all the peoples under the whole heaven. Mastema, the satan will be designated executor of the inheritance. The nations are your allotment. Divide them amongst yourselves.” The Watchers were shocked at the concession. Marduk whispered to the satan, “There are seventy of us, plus some of our fallen angels. I want first choice.” “Do not worry,” snapped the satan, “You will get yours, Mr. ‘King of the Gods.

The Seraphim bellowed out with their many-faceted voices, “The earth is the Lord’s, and the fullness thereof, the world and those who dwell within!” “Oh, please,” griped the satan. “Now you are contradicting yourself. First, you allot to us peoples and lands, and then you claim ownership over it all?” He knew full well that was not a contradiction. Their inheritance was no more than a temporary loan. “And why will you not tell us who this Jacob is? What are you trying to hide? Do you have some dirty little secret you are afraid we will find out and use to discredit you?” The Seraphim had the last word, “Thus saith the Lord.” Mastema and the entire group of fallen Watchers were instantly sucked back down into a new funnel cloud. It deposited them, not back in Babylon, but on their Mount Hermon in Canaan. It was here they would begin the arduous task of parceling out their allotted seventy nations under the authority of the seventy Sons of God.

Noah had used the covenant name of the Creator, Yahweh Elohim, that distinguished him from all other claims of deity. He was the true and Living God among the gods. Noah continued, “The gods you speak of are Bene ha Elohim, Sons of God from the divine council of Elohim’s heavenly host. They are Watchers of mankind. But they fell to earth in rebellion and set up their ‘assembly of gods’ as a mockery of God’s own divine council. They have sought to draw worship away from the Living God unto themselves and to corrupt the bloodline of the coming king.” “Coming king?” interrupted Gilgamesh. This struck him where it most hurt. Gilgamesh had sought to be the greatest king. “Who is this king?” “I do not know,” said Noah.

It had some kind of access to the underworld. Equally significant was the fact that this sacred space stood at the foot of the mountain range of Hermon, the cosmic mount of assembly of the gods. Simon had read the Book of Enoch, and the Book of Giants at Qumran. He knew of the fall of the Watcher gods at this very mountain before the Flood. This was the heart of evil in the land of Bashan, the place of the Serpent.

Enoch Primordial (Sumer) Elohim Anu   Inanna   __ __ Noah Primeval (Sumer) Elohim, Yahweh __ Inanna __ __ Gilgamesh Immortal (Sumer) Elohim __ Ishtar   Ninurta Gilgamesh Abraham Allegiant (Babylon) El Shaddai __ Ishtar   Marduk   Nimrod Abraham Allegiant (Canaan) El Elyon __ Ashtart Ba’al Amraphel Divine attribute Creator Almighty Most High High God of pantheon Goddess of sex & war God of vegetation & storm A Nephilim     Creator God Nachash Giants Sons of God Noah Other Names Yahweh Elohim The Serpent Nephilim Bene ha Elohim Utnaphishtim Yahweh The satan Adversary Rephaim Watchers Ziusudra Elohim Mastema Emim gods Chosen One El Shaddai A Seraphim Caphtorim Heavenly Host   Angel of Yahweh Shining One Zamzummim Divine Council   Son of Man Accuser Anakim Shining Ones   El Elyon Belial Avvim Holy Ones     Diablos Horim Anunnaki       True Heaven Sumerian Pantheon Seven Gods Who Decree the Fates Sumerian Pantheon Four High Gods Mesopotamian Heavens and Earth Hierarchy Yahweh Elohim Anu Anu Yahweh Elohim’s throne Angel of Yahweh Enlil Enlil The waters above the heavens Seraphim Enki Enki The firmament Cherubim Ninhursag Ninhursag The heavens Sons of God Inanna __ Earth M’alak (angels) Utu __ The Abyss   Nana __

They shared a meal together as was the custom of hospitality. As they ate, Noah and Emzara tried to explain to Terah and Amthelo about the call of Elohim on their son Abram’s life. They tried to explain that Elohim was the Creator God who required complete and exclusive loyalty to his kingship over all creation. They said that the gods were actually fallen Watchers, rebels from Elohim’s divine council in heaven, playing roles of deception to accomplish a diabolical war against God’s chosen seedline. And this little child was the seed through which an anointed king would one day come and achieve victory over the gods of the people, and bring back all the nations under the allotment of Elohim. Terah stopped them. He did not want to hear such blasphemy. He was too entrenched in his world of the pantheon, sorcery, magic, astrology and the occult. He started to physically tremble at the talk of an anointed coming king of the seedline. When Terah threatened to take Abram back with him if they continued in their proselytizing, they stopped. Noah concluded by saying, “We only love you and want to see you on the right side of the war that is coming.” “Coming?” said Terah. “You have really been cut off from civilization out here in these caves! The war is already here. And if what you say about this War of the Seed is true, then the General of this Elohim’s enemy is Nimrod of Babylon.

The Watchers were Sons of God, members of Elohim’s divine council, or heavenly host. Two hundred of them rebelled and fell to earth during the ancient days of Jared. Led by the mightiest of the Watchers, Semjaza and Azazel, they had taken on new identities as gods of the Mesopotamian pantheon. They were referred to as gods, Watchers, or even Watcher gods. Semjaza had become Anu, the most high father god of the pantheon. Azazel had become his consort Inanna. Ishtar snorted in disgust at that memory.

They established a hierarchy of four High Gods over the rest of the pantheon, and Seven Who Decree the Fates. They had no idea that an insignificant scrapper, the Watcher called Gadreel, would bide his time, build his strength and perfect his fighting technique to become the mighty Ninurta of Uruk, and now Marduk of Babylon. Ishtar had to admit that he had been clever about it. She stood before her tent, watching the puny humans labor on her fabulous temple, musing on the Plan of the Watchers.

They had taken on the disguise of divinity in order to draw worship away from the Creator, who was known in antediluvian times as Elohim. He had other names, such as El Shaddai, which meant God Almighty; El Elyon, which meant God Most High; and the secret covenant name of Yahweh, the eternally self-existent one. Ishtar smiled to herself. Drawing worship away from Elohim was not all the Watchers were after.

Following the Fall in the Garden of Eden, Elohim had promised he would one day provide a seed of royal kingship that would restore creation to its intended glory and humanity to its intended identity as the family of Elohim, true Sons and Daughters of God. The Watcher gods sought to corrupt that seedline by mating with humanity and violating the heavenly earthly divide. The result of their crossbreeding were the Nephilim, unholy hybrids of angel and human, giants who became known as the Seed of the Serpent at war with the Seed of the Woman, Eve.

When Ham was under the spell of Anu and Ishtar, they had secretly experimented on him through occultic sciences that were beyond the knowledge of mankind at the time. They had altered his body by splicing their own genetic makeup into his. But they also violated his wife, Neela, impregnating her with a newly developed genetic implantation. One that would carry the recessive genes of the Watchers without resulting in immediate gigantism. They hoped this would suffuse throughout the population with more efficient results.

When Elohim sent the Deluge as punishment for mankind’s wickedness on the earth, part of that evil was this miscegenation of unholy human angelic hybrids. With those waters, archangels came from heaven and imprisoned many of the Watchers in the earth to await their final judgment. Seventy of the Watchers remained free.

he had visited his distant kin, Noah. There, he had been told of the Creator Elohim, and his vindictive judgment on mankind that was the origin of the Great Flood. Nimrod rejected this despotic deity and his capricious obsession for controlling things from on high. How dare this supposed Creator make mankind and the angels, and then demand sniveling toe-licking slavery. Against this monolithic tyranny stood the pantheon of gods, who watched over mankind from Mount Hermon. This divine assembly of Watchers was willing to share power, to elevate man above his mud-brick existence. If there was one thing the Watcher gods gave him hope for, it was the glorious potential of mankind to become as gods, to commingle heaven and earth in a unity of being. He knew that what he and Marduk planned would more than likely provoke another vengeful response from Elohim.

Ba’al led Ashtart down the underground tunnel in a dog collar. It had been thirteen years since the battle of nine kings, where Marduk had defeated Ashtart and became Ba’al, the king of the gods of Canaan. Ashtart’s plan had been set back generations with the devastation of her giant progeny throughout the land by Chedorlaomer’s forces. But with the addition of Ba’al as the Most High God of Canaan, the two of them together could do what she could not do alone. Ashtart had revitalized the original program of miscegenation of the Watchers. The rest of the pantheon of gods were fearful of the consequences of such a pursuit, since El Shaddai had already flooded the earth the first time such a course of action had been undertaken. But with the two most powerful divinities united, the pantheon could do little but sit back and see what happened.

Sirach 16:7-8 He forgave not the giants of old, [the fruit of the angelic sin] Who revolted in their might. He spared not the place where Lot sojourned, Who were arrogant in their pride.[41]   Testament of Naphtali 3:4-5 [D]iscern the Lord who made all things, so that you do not become like Sodom, which departed from the order of nature. Likewise the Watchers departed from nature’s order; the Lord pronounced a curse on them at the Flood.[42]

It has been long known by scholars that the letter of Jude not only quotes a verse from the non-canonical book of 1 Enoch (v. 14 with 1 Enoch 1:9),[39] but that Jude 6-7 and 2 Peter 2:4-10 both paraphrase content from 1 Enoch, thus supporting the notion that the inspired authors intended an Enochian interpretation of “angels” called the Watchers (sons of God) having sexual intercourse with humans. 1 Enoch extrapolates the Nephilim pre-flood story from the Bible as speaking of angels violating their supernatural separation and having sex with humans who bear them giants.[40]

Everybody likes to eat, and you never know who likes to read until you bring up a few pop culture references. That’s where you separate the TV watchers and moviegoers from the readers.

a “gift from the gods”. Not mythical gods, but physical ones who lived among them. The Tablets call these gods the AN.UNNAK.KI (Those who from Heaven to Earth came), and DIN.GIR (The Righteous Ones of the Blazing Rockets). The name of Sumer itself was KI.EN.GIR (The Land of the Lord of the Blazing Rockets and also Land of the Watchers, according to Sitchin). The ancient text known as the Book of Enoch also calls the gods ‘the Watchers’, as did the Egyptians. The Egyptian name for their gods, the Neteru, literally translates as Watchers and they said that their gods came in heavenly boats.

8Now the giants, who have been born of spirit and of flesh, shall be called upon earth evil spirits, and on earth shall be their habitation. Evil spirits shall proceed from their flesh, because they were created from above; from the holy Watchers was their beginning and primary foundation. Evil spirits shall they be upon earth, and the spirits of the wicked shall they be called. The habitation of the spirits of heaven shall be in heaven; but upon earth shall be the habitation of terrestrial spirits, who are born on earth. 9The spirits of the giants shall be like clouds, which shall oppress, corrupt, fall, content, and bruise upon earth. 10They shall cause lamentation. No food shall they eat; and they shall be thirsty; they shall be concealed, and shall not rise up against the sons of men, and against women; for they come forth during the days of slaughter and destruction.

1And as to the death of the giants, wheresoever their spirits depart from their bodies, let their flesh, that which is perishable, be without judgment. Thus shall they perish, until the day of the great consummation of the great world. A destruction shall take place of the Watchers and the impious.

1And as to the death of the giants, wheresoever their spirits depart from their bodies, let their flesh, that which is perishable, be without judgment. Thus shall they perish, until the day of the great consummation of the great world. A destruction shall take place of the Watchers and the impious. 2And now to the Watchers, who have sent you to pray for them, who in the beginning were in heaven, 3Say, In heaven have you been; secret things, however, have not been manifested to you; yet have you known a reprobated mystery. 4And this you have related to women in the hardness of your heart, and by that mystery have women and mankind multiplied evils upon the earth. 5Say to them, Never therefore shall you obtain peace.

who, with binoculars to his eyes, was watching the encounter. One of the bombers, hit by a six-inch shell, disappeared in a puff of smoke. Yet the others held on, pressing home their attacks. Bill saw a black egg spilling from the leading 109’s belly. ‘I think they’ll miss,’ Fiji’s Captain retorted calmly. ‘It’s a beautiful attack to watch.’ Warspite was under full port rudder when the bomb struck. There was a flash from her starboard 4-inch and 6-inch batteries, and then a gush of steam and white smoke enveloped the battleship. ‘My God,’ Bill heard the Officer of the Watch exclaim. ‘She’s badly hit.’ A silence gripped the impotent watchers on Fiji’s bridge. Bill held his breath as the old lady swung out of line: her bows emerged slowly from the smoke and steam as a swarm of Stukas waited, poised above her, for the kill. Then they peeled off for the final act. Across the water Bill heard the cheering of men’s voices: Warspite’s guns had not ceased firing for an instant. Still they blazed away, red tongues spitting from their barrels. Warspite shook herself, picked up her skirts and, apparently undamaged, resumed her station. ‘Good for her,’ Captain William-Powlett said. ‘But her starboard batteries are knocked out — and so are her boiler room intakes, I reckon, judging by the steam and the white smoke.’ Rear-Admiral King’s Squadron was now coming up fast over the horizon, Naiad’s signal lanterns working overtime as, being the Senior Officer of the forces present, King took over the command from Rear-Admiral Rawlings. ‘It’s an impressive sight,’ Bill murmured to himself. ‘Shall I ever see anything like this again?’ Men sighed with relief as the forces reunited. Naiad and Perth, Carlisle and Calcutta wheeled into station ahead of the battleships, Kandahar and Kingston fitting into the starboard wing of the destroyer screen. The fleet could now concentrate its anti-aircraft fire in these narrows. Bill watched Greyhound. She seemed to be engaging two caiques: the destroyer’s guns flashed, then suddenly one of the caiques blew up. She was probably full of Germans and ammunition. A flight of JU 87Bs, on its way

Recently, Dr. Michael W. Fox, in his book, Understanding Your Cat, wrote: 'It is not anthropomorphic to say that the cat experiences emotions as we do. It is logical to conclude that they do since they have the same brain center for such feelings as we have.

Human trafficking and drug peddling have become two of the most talked-about crimes globally, and like terrorism, it’s a fight America may never win. The fall of one cartel leads to the rise of another cartel, and it’s all because the system is corrupt, and those who wield the staff of law and order are also roped in the crimes. The entire system is corrupt and needs overhauling. The question

the street that depends on the crumbs from the criminals’ table that stole his wealth to survive or the officer whose life and family are constantly on edge? They will just have to keep fighting crime and hope that someday people would be afraid to commit crimes, and people would be brave enough to stand up against corruption.

The Watcher's eyes held onto an amber hue as the fiery light consumed him, when it masked over what remained of his wand, every inch of light faded. He couldn't move his hand away. It was stuck in place, as was he. Now it was time for the finishing touch as cracks were forming alongside the shaft.

There was giggling from within the freshly formed cracks on the walls. A malevolent presence of some kind. Impish creatures made of shadows spawned. They jumped onto the ground, one appeared after the last. There were countless of them, surrounding. Their footsteps were loud, but hollow.

One of the creatures let out a blood-curdling scream. The shadows under its throat rippled, then dissolved on the floor.

The mass of light in his hands was powerful enough, it gave the dayless shadows of their own. They began consuming themselves, then the wand went down toward the collective mass. More white flames came out of it, the entire room was on fire now.

We knew it would fall.

The two worked through making the potion. They saw that a fire was already lit underneath the cauldron.

Streams of water, which travelled only on the skin, cleansed and closed the wound.

The torch fell into the pool, the fire was put out, and some bubbles formed, then burst. But, not long after the scent of charcoal wafted through the air, a tiny flame appeared on the surface of the pool. All the fluids underneath it became sticky and black. Soon, the fire spread toward the corners of the room, to the walls, past the pipes.

Magic would seem fun from afar, but there were so many horrors crawling around each of its countless corners.

Dreams, some high-and-mighty few, amongst the Elysians, may refer to them as visions or blessings of some sort. They offer very little in terms of reality. There, we existed on the fabrics of what was possible, and what was not. Yet, we turned ourselves over to the unreal. It is our nature, after all, and it shall be passionately denied.

Such things, which at first appear inventive, are designed to deceive.

There was a gray, hollowed out tree the size of an island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Its many roots and branches were layered with enchantments. It was impossible to detect. Passing ships would sail right through it.

The students stepped back. The bloodcatcher was scary enough on its own. Imagining how it would move, eat, dare to exist, that was enough to shake the crowd down to their feet.

In reality, the boy's wand grew a mind of its own and puppeteered him. His arm was straight, pointed right at Lukas, whose wand was also at the ready.

Two beams erupted from their wands, then clashed in the middle of the room, they were the same color as the boys' Self-Cast. Stray bolts flew toward the other students and the teacher. Brown weaved his wand through the air, creating a spectral barrier of protection.

Wilbur winced. His hand burned. Black blood abandoned his flesh.

What is dead? But that which can die again?

The boy was almost crushed by the incoming waves of confidence which fell from the working man's shoulders—onto his. Vanity thrived in this place.

Wilbur stopped himself from shaking. The black water before him was stained red.