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Women had power once: Back in the caves, life hinged on childbirths mystery, and we served mother godesses, not father gods. ‘Twas thos for several million years. Then men rebelled, perhaps a few at first, a small conspiracy…who by some act of social magic, politics, or force, cast woman down that man might rule. Time passed and kingdoms passed from father unto son. The Matriarchy was forgotten…save by the ICENi, there in Colchester, allowed some Independence by the occupyingg Roman troops. Yet Rome forbade that Boadicea, the Iceni’s Queen should pass her crown to DAUGHTERS and not SONS. When she complained, they raped her and her daughters in contempt. A grave mistake. She gathered the Iceni, howling to her mother goddesses for vegeance and burned London to the ground, its gutters heaped with steaming heads. She left a stripe of ash, a cold black vein in London’s geologic strata, token of one womans wrath. Mark it, Netley. Mark it well, and fear it. Rome regrouped; reclaimed the ruined city. Boadicea died upon this very spot at Battle Bridge, below Parliament Hill where Druids once made sacrifices to a Father Sun.