In my last semi-annual editorial, I described the police persecution of our British website provider, culminating in his guilty plea. The administration of the websites was taken over by his son, who was forced to close them down in May, following a further police raid with a threat of confiscation of his servers, as well as a blackmail by British Telecom over his security clearance. The heart of the matter is explained in the latest Pigtails in Paint editorial: the latter website, as well as the blog of Graham Ovenden, had uncovered the misconduct of the UK police in the Ovenden frame-up trial and conviction. Corrupt cops must protect their careers by censoring the exposure of their treachery, leading them to further acts of abuse.

In my editorial, a quote from Aleister Crowley’s novel Moonchild described perfectly the hypocrisy of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, a country from which it is safer to flee.

But we soon found friends ready to help us to restart the sites, joining forces with other artists and amateurs suffering censorship. How this could happen is a kind of magic explained in the book The Power of Myth (Anchor Books, New York, 1991), which collects conversations of Joseph Campbell with Bill Moyers; see page 150:

MOYERS: Do you ever have this sense when you are following your bliss, as I have at moments, of being helped by hidden hands?

CAMPBELL: All the time. It is miraculous. I even have a superstition that has grown on me as a result of invisible hands coming all the time—namely, that if you do follow your bliss you put yourself on a kind of track that has been there all the while, waiting for you, and the life that you ought to be living is the one you are living. When you can see that, you begin to meet people who are in your field of bliss, and they open the doors to you. I say, follow your bliss and don’t be afraid, and doors will open where you didn’t know they were going to be.

Poetry and love cannot be permanently suppressed. The censors will endeavour to destroy and burn them, but like the Phoenix of Greek mythology, they will be born again from their ashes. Like the Firebird of Slavic mythology and folklore, poetry and love are magical and prophetic birds with a majestic plumage that glows brightly, they represent a blessing, but they will also be a harbinger of doom to those who want to imprison them.

As says Campbell in The Power of Myth, page 148:

Poets are simply those who have made a profession and a lifestyle of being in touch with their bliss.

Who can defeat the power of bliss?