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In NYC, Long became a member of the Art Students League of New York, studying under the guidance of such notable artists as Robert Beverly Hale and Frank Mason. Then, in 1969, Long preempted the draft by enlisting in the U.S. Marine Corps. He served just over two tours of duty in Vietnam as a Marine Corps Combat Officer; during his last tour he served as Commander of the Combat Art Team, and much of his work from that period is now on display at the Smithsonian Institution of Washington, D.C.
The third panel, claimed to represent "planning/knowledge" on a official website discussing the triptych, features a young boy in a mysterious black robe, and supposedly represents "innocence." Notice the pyramid. It is said to be "a traditional symbol of perfection." The pyramid is also found on the verso of the U.S. dollar bill - the latter which is represented by the words "ANNUIT COEPTIS - NOVUS ORDO SECLORUM" - or 'Announcement of a New World Order.' Also notice in the third panel the magical illuminist "Black Sun" (of Satan) directly above a limp, stringed puppet figure of a woman, which more so seems to be representative of that of a 'controlled slave.' How is it that such an apparent sinister group of elements can go unchecked and unquestioned by people walking into the lobby of what is infact the largest bank in the United States of America?
originally posted by: cavtrooper7
a reply to: sanitizedinfo
What about possession or oppresion from an other entity, is that a possibility?
I have always wondered about someone with your illness, if they had such issues.
It was a very mysterious day
The place was almost empty
And he got chills down his spine just being present in the scene
On the wall, there was a picture that looked familiar
And when he got close, his heart stopped
cause he saw it was a painting of his dream
It was a painting of his dream
His body on a runway
By a ladder to an airplane with its propellers spinning
Which accounted for the loud noise
The match up was perfect
And that was the day he stopped believing in existing
He resented his creator
I mean, words can't explain
What must have went on in his brain while he stared into a frame
Of a work of art which he created and was at the same time
The mind can't handle that much, it's just insane
It's like reading a book where each words describe your thoughts
And in quotations, it reads whatever you say when you talk
You think it can't happen
But it did happen
I guess there's surprisingly wide cracks in each life's sidewalk
He stumbled upon an answer when he never had a question
And decided to stop dreaming to maintain his mental health
Now he hardly talks to people
Just stays in his basement
Writing infinity, by painting himself
This is a strange universe
Is it all just a blueprint?
In the real universe, is my consciousness useless?
Are we really something a higher intelligence made up?
A figment of imagination colored by a cosmic paintbrush?
Maybe all of our art creates the fate of other beings
Then every character in ever novel thinks it's alive and were
Just a theory
I don't know what it means
But that's the story of the man who trained himself not to dream