Tuesday, November 24, 2015


A Review Of William Gazecki's 
Film Documentary Of The Same Name
By Alfred Lehmberg

I am going to make a rather shameful disclosure to you, reader.  For years I'd been casually disrespecting the foundations of a Federal Republic I'd presumed (a result of ceaseless but duplicitous inculcation) was in better shape than it was.  And it is decidedly not in good shape I have very fearfully discovered.  It is much, much more troubled than I would have dared think!

The shameful disclosure?  I had never VOTED, sir or madam, not at the State, Local, or Federal level.  My last vote was for a rally chairman in high school circa 1966.

Up until just recently, a fiercely independent and ardent individualist, I was rather of proud of that.  I even thought I could justify it... 

No more.

Retired military, I'd too conveniently rationalized that I served my country in other ways, never served in one stateside spot long enough to feel responsible, and never got excited about the choices I was offered, anyway!  It always seemed to me that our two party system only presented alternate heads of the same beast.  I still believe the latter to a degree.  I digress.

What's changed?  In a nutshell, it seems the electoral ballots we cast in our elections—Local, State, and Federal—begin to fade to an awful and seeming inexorable "invisibility", as we speak.  That's not a metaphor, folks.  Our individual vote is dissolving to an insubstantial nothingness... a valueless nothingness.  An insidious nothingness.

The ballots we cast in our elections, our exercise of rights in what could be a glorious Republic... have quietly—so _without_ appropriate fanfare!—begun to discorporate from a physical reality that can be checked and verified... into an electronic virtual reality that cannot be checked and verified...  Electronic TouchScreen Voting.  It should stand the hair on the back of your neck, reader! 

I had always thought that the vote, as it was supposed to be practiced in the United States of America, actually meant something!  I felt well served with that.  Insulated.

In the fashion that one's vote was presumed recorded, tallied, and otherwise counted (_recounted_ if necessary!)..., it was an action taken by an individual in this country that actually moved a counting tumbler... somewhere... in the direction that a "voter" had indicated that it should go... given the choices available to make. That was the presumption.  This electoral 'count', as ultimately meaningless as it may have been (given the prescribed choices), was affected by an action the 'individual' took... or did not take.  I felt safe ...not... voting, given an egalitarian system of some ethics in the process, a process where an individual had a snowball's chance of being heard, to have an impact, however small.

A person, an individual..., I'd always presumed, could participate in the process of how they were governed, even if it was only an illusion of participation.  A vote DID count for something... an either/or of limited choices... but a choice none the less!  ...So I thought!

This, very likely, may no longer be, remotely, the case, reader!  It may be that an effort taken to indicate a vote might be as meaningless as a puff of flatulent air!  Your individually consequential vote may be in danger of being rendered—by canted neo-cons one discovers, apart from the focus of the film reviewed—into a complete illusion... even if it was only a virtual illusion before. 

Be that as it may... the always tenuous "popular" vote has likely already been hijacked and is in the egregiously stealthy process of being rendered meaningless... your will and choice negated to a worthless exercise in pathetic futility!

Oscar-Nominated Filmmaker William Gazecki has completed another compelling documentary giving every indication that it is as bad as all that! What Mr. Gazecki outlines (in a compelling montage of vetted experts...) is an outrage of pointed disrespect that is bereft of _all_ hyperbole! 

Gazecki outlines a clear and active threat to any SEMBLANCE of continuing to live in a free society for any one of us! Additionally, he alludes to an unwarranted, unwelcome, and unnecessary 'partisan' holding arbitrary sway... a monstrously conflicted and nonconstructive 'intrusion' on that free society (...with regard to the biased and otherwise documented 'spiritual convictions' of the, too few, 'owners')! 

Who 'owns' democracy?  Does not an 'owned' democracy cease to be?
Gazecki does not go into the neo-conic proprietary ownership (near monopoly!) of our national voting mechanism in his film, but it is well known.  His contention, instead and even more significant, is that a proprietary ownership of the voting mechanism by ANY single private entity is a bad thing.  ...A VERY bad thing!

 ...Very bad...

 Why is that, you ask? Well... here's just a taste:

 Because it doesn't work!  Because it can't be checked!  Because it is too needlessly (and duplicitously!) complicated!  Because it is needlessly or horrifically expensive!  Because there's no paper record produced by it!  Because it renders a vote "recount" impossible and meaningless!  

Because there is no indisputable audit trail for the maintenance of the hardware and software!  Because it is "overwhelming" to most poorly trained election workers!  Because some of the persons officiating the corporate aspect of it... are criminals!  Because it is effortlessly easy to stealthily defeat or hack!  Because there is no independent oversight!  Because it is difficult to set up and run!  Because its software is patched with unauthorized and undocumented 'fixes'! Because we can't INSPECT the nature of the software code (...which can say anything!) or the hardware machines (...which can be secretly TOLD to say anything)! 

...Because it is turning our system of government wholly over into the hands of non-accountable and elitist corporate psychopaths!

Enough?  There is more.

At best, all this is hobbling and socially regressive! At worst it's culturally dangerous... a short detour to the cruelest fascism!   Among too many other valid criticisms to list, it is socially static and unrewarding, and it is without any respect for the individual concerned about the quality of his individual vote—its biggest injury/insult, in my opinion.  Your civil rights are discounted, nullified, and retired!  The reader is betrayed!

This evil betrayal of our Republic spits in your face, reader.  Feel rank and dreadful viscous-ness drool down your cheek and into your open mouth... with my apologies.

Sorry if that revolted your sensibilities.  It had to be said.  ...Everybody take a deep breath... I won't do that again...

Gazecki's 90-minute film, a concerned clarion cry of cultural warning, provides the individual with a cogent stream of competent professional people, university professors, United States Representatives, Election workers, Investigative journalists, systems engineers, research consultants, software experts... and significant others et al ... ALL suggesting a very strong potential for a dire threat to our representative government and free Republic!  No hype and histrionics here, sir or madam! 

In one instance, for example, a radical conservative owned the proprietary rights to the suspect and dodgy touch-screen electronic voting machines... that put him in office!  Presuming ethical behavior (...which has a damned good chance of going the other way, and south, _fast_... good reader!) is not remotely wise, forgetting that it is a clear conflict of rational interest that cannot be allowed... or remotely tolerated... from anyone!  Christ, himself!  Verily!

Allowing the henhouse keys to indicted foxes already raping this country is patent lunacy, folks!  You'd stop it if you could, if you knew about it... and you can!  

I'd mentioned that some of the key officiators were convicted confidence men... history will look back on you reader, and wonder... "What the hell was she THINKING"!?!  

Gazecki makes no sociological call on any of this, himself, remember, but showcases the facts for ready inspection by the viewer, regardless.  In all honesty this time... he reports; you decide.

I'd suggest that this -abomination- of biased CONTROL through our—public! You can bet we paid for it!—voting software and hardware (by an -extremely- canted and partisan minority!), is an affront to our Nation constitutionally, morally and ethically, and it is a clear disregard of the public interest that should otherwise be served as well!

That's why I'm voting now and in the future, folks, "absentee", so there is a paper record (...recommended for all reading this review!) which can still be counted and remains bereft of the 'Ballot Invisibility' William Gazecki very convincingly describes in his landmark film.  My "vote" (...that I had shamefully taken for granted...) becomes precious to me when it is threatened to become a complete charade! 

The bastards in non-elected leadership should have remained content just dictating the overall choice I could make.  They err in trying to absolve my choice completely

Al-Qaeda and ISIL is preferable to these SOBs!

If you've never voted, reader, or are comfortable with aggregate election machinery that is privately owned, secretly officiated and arbitrarily controlled... get a copy of this film before not a shred of democracy remains!  VOTE, friends and neighbors!  Now more than ever.

Oh—the fix?  That's easy!

Faster ain't always better, folks!  What price 'fast' if you can't trust it?  We take the time and spend less money (In the long run) to do a hands-on job (...with a troglodyte's paper trail!), RIGHT!  A hanging chad is at least VISIBLE, friend!  It trumps an "Invisible Ballot" seven ways to Sunday!  Lastly, Congress made this happen, folks!  They can make it "un-happen"!  Sweat the bastards!  I'm going to!

See—it's simple.  We got into it, simply, in the dark.  We can get out of it, simply (using old, verifiable, technology!) in the light.  Too bad if heads have to roll.  We'd have had too many real heads roll... innocent heads... later on, allowing this insanity to continue...

Contact www.williamgazecki.com or https://archive.org/details/dom-7911-1-invisibleballots to see this landmark film.  If you saw only one video this year, I've no doubt that this is the one it should be...

Read on, but vote.

Thursday, November 19, 2015

The Day Stanton Friedman Made Me Cry

The Day Stanton Friedman Made Me Cry
by Alfred Lehmberg

I want to tell you a story about the day Stanton Friedman made me cry.  Oh... there was no inconsolable boohooing or gushing mucous expressed; still, the bottoms of my eyes got decidedly swampy...
Let me hasten to assure the reader that I am completely capable of ripping off one's head and crapping down one's neck given the appropriate motivation (raise the black flag and cut deserving throats me hearties and dog brothers!) but like any true sociophile—"I love humanity, it's people I can't stand"—I can be profoundly moved by random acts of genuine and so uncontrived kindness...
I attended my second three-day UFO convention in 1996, and while initially irritated with the cheesy (almost dirty movie?) merchandising of the concept generally, I did enjoy myself hugely, still!  The speakers—John Mack was there—were refreshingly out of the box!  Many of the people were fascinating and all of them interesting.  So, engagingly, the decidedly optimistic if carnival atmosphere had an otherworldly edge one would naturally expect from a gathering of... largely intelligent people unsettled by concerns with potential alien space ships piloted, perhaps, by equally alien beings.  One of those aforementioned intelligent persons was of certain if complicated affect.
I went to four of these "Project Awareness" affairs in the Gulf Breeze, Florida area, and at each of them I saw this same intensely interested kid and his accommodating father. It was clear who, of the two, had the real interest in UFOs.
The kid was the conductor on that train. The father was a tirelessly doting engine.
I've written about this kid before. I'd noticed him at the first conference. He was about twelve or thirteen, maybe he was as old as fifteen (or even older); it's hard to tell with kids like him, sometimes.
Very slender, he had dark hair, and I only saw him smile on one occasion.  Otherwise, he had this look of intense seriousness. For three days, we were in and out of different spots at different times, going different directions, and never had the occasion to mingle, meet, or even speak, actually.
Good thing too, as getting any idea that my suspicions in his regard were true would have been much more difficult to bear.  In other words.  I'd likely have lost it sooner...
I guess I should mention that the kid was in a wheelchair and very nearly completely debilitated with cerebral palsy. He was, physically, just a twitching mass of drooling wretchedness, for most of "genteel" humanity. This too quick assessment is made all the more tragic by the fact that many (most?) of these kids with CP still have active and intelligent minds inside their ruined bodies. Stephen Hawking, with a similar disease, comes to mind.   These persons have minds, reader, still capable of the same kind of unrestricted imagination and ardent hero worship as any other young boy, and more, given their circumstances!
As a credentialed educator of these physically challenged, I would know. The reader should know that their condition is likely caused by needlessly dumped toxins found within the world in which they—hyper sensitive canaries for us all—must live... CP is likely a disease of the modern world... The reader will allow that small digression...
From what I was able to observe, and had already written about years ago, the kid had moderate control of an arm and a leg. The arm was used to poke at a communication board reading out on a liquid crystal display, and the leg was used to reach out and touch the floor in front of him as his father rolled him along to the different exhibits and presentations. He'd reach out with the foot, set it down, and then let it return to him with the forward motion of the wheelchair. Then he'd pick it up and do it again like he was the one doing the walking and, though chair-bound, still had some part in his own locomotion.  Dad seemed an unqualified peach with regard to the selfless and unending facilitation of his challenged son.
The foot was accelerator and brake and steering wheel for his father's facilitating engine. That's enough to jerk a few tears from the reader, right there.
Well, it was between presentations in the greater hall of the hotel and a small chaos ensued while the speakers switched out.  Amid a confusion of meandering people, Stanton Friedman was standing in a small group answering questions and making general conversation with the conference attendees. The kid rolled up in his chair.
Said kid would not take his eyes off Friedman. I could tell that this was no ho-hum drill for the kid. To the contrary. This was a seminal event—a singular moment—for him.
He was prepared. His dog-eared copies of Friedman's books were in the spring-loaded autograph position on the chair tray before him, and he had a question already tapped out on his little communication board. One could see, plainly, that he was over-the-top excited.
What I mentioned about hero worship, earlier, obviously applied here. This kid was very impressed with Stanton Friedman, the man.  I saw him perform in the same manner with no other conference speaker.
An opportunity presented itself, at last. The kid's father took a break in the conversation to introduce himself and his son and ask if Mr. Friedman wouldn't sign his son's books. As Mr. Friedman graciously addressed that task remarking to the boy as regards his healthy interest, he and the father were speaking about how enjoyable the conference was and other obligatory book-signing chatter... ...Then the kid tentatively held out his communication board in a trembling hand for Friedman to read.
I'd sneaked a look at the device over the kid's shoulder so I already knew what the question was..."Have you ever seen a UFO," the device spelled out.
Finishing the last book, Mr. Friedman took the kid's device and read the question aloud. He shook his head and laughed in that chuckling old grandfatherly manner that is a trademark with him. "No," he sighed, "I have not..."
Then he turned a little more serious and speaking directly to the kid, said, " ...But me seeing a UFO is not evidence of UFOs, and there is a LOT of convincing evidence for real UFOs." Then he paused for what ended up being a huge effect for the kid, saucered his eyes and said. "UFOs are real"!
The kid was transfixed. His eyes were shining, and his mouth carried the huge momentary grin I mentioned earlier. The kid obviously had something important conclusively validated for him, and I think I had a good idea what it could have been.  Perhaps an epiphany...and not just for the kid, for everyone listening...
It was the kind of epiphany one's just not going to get from a sports hero. Consider, all they are is running, hitting, and jumping in a pretty questionable exercise... a ready reminder, besides, of what cannot be, for the kid. Stanton Friedman, on the other hand, "cleaved the heavens and soared to the [freaking] infinite" for the boy; the kid got it!  Stanton Friedman was about what can be... as outré as that may sometimes be.  See the difference?
The kid was reassured and encouraged, I think. The kid had hopes a little less hard to keep alive, I suspect. The kid was awash in a self-generated glow of new optimism, perhaps... it was, I'd imagine, a "happiest moment" contender. I could go on to more finely grind this point.
Imagining, myself, what the kid must be feeling and understanding why, I suspected that the kid's wildest dreams could perhaps be realized if UFOs were as real as his bearded champion had just proclaimed! He'd heard it come from the "man" himself, and it was said directly to him. His "hero" looked right into his own unblinking eyes guileless as his own.
...Truth can never be as certain as when it is perceived by a small boy directly from the serious countenance of someone he admires. Babe Ruth pointing at the rafters for his next home run, in sweet favor of a similar child, approximates the actuality of Friedman's effect on the kid...
The Sermon On The Mount was supposed to be as captivating, as inspiring, and as reassuring... to ascend to a little hyperbole.
"UFOs are REAL"!
The future had endless potential...; it was confirmed! And maybe, just maybe, a Gene Roddenberry-like Star Trek universe could exist for the kid, too! Maybe he could see a UFO (go aboard?). Maybe he too could be part of this magically monumental thing so much larger than himself...
Why... he might even find a way to make himself a better kind of whole! The sky can be no limit to a small boy's hopes and dreams... even (better, especially!) to one such as this thoroughly afflicted kid.
The bottom of my eyes began to fill up a little bit on the results of my too busy imagination, and I stepped away from the group, frankly, to surreptitiously wipe my eyes and compose myself... ...The reader should remember what I said earlier about head removal... ...poke fun at me and pull back a nub of whatever it was you were poking me with, sincerely...
...Besides, the sentiment in cameo here is a little more honestly drawn than the sentiment extracted from a lying "we like to make you smile" hamburger commercial on "family" television! These can provoke a tear, too.
This is forgetting entirely whether it was the kid, Stanton Friedman, or my own poignantly reinforced convictions that had made me cry or a combination of the three? But weep I did, and, on the whole (?) I'm rather glad I can.
That's enough. I remain watching skies.

Read on!

Tuesday, November 17, 2015

Odd Observation #4

Well—just freaking nothing!  I was thinking that I should have been able to share something strange from the skies every week, if not every day...  It seemed that writing about it in its own format had driven the *peculiar* away...
The skies of the time had been interesting only in the new stars that I found, the revealing histories I discovered written about them, and the galaxies that come miraculously into stunning view with military-style night vision devices I can get my hands on occasionally.  
But, NO UFOs, mother-ships, gassy pelicans, or peculiar clouds.  Interestingly, I saw nothing with the goggles resembling a satellite, which I would have predicted a lot more of.  I've seen some with unaided vision. Tiny and almost imperceptible, they are, infrequent points of steadily moving and prosaic "ho~hum"...
There are hundreds of satellites in the sky flying to all points of the compass, all points but the "most due of due Wests."  Free JAVA applications (the intrepid reader can download from the internet) paints them plainly in real time simulations that are easily time shifted, demonstrate their sometimes oblique and seemingly impossible movements over the ground, and point out at last what could actually BE there to be seen (...in so far as we are allowed to freely know...)!  It does NOT close the loop on my sightings, however.
I have not YET been able to see a computer predicted satellite! Moreover, none of my odder observations of peculiar articles in the sky have, in turn, been able to be explained by the same programs. Curious!  Ominous music should be cued at this juncture.
Still, there have been sightings, in the past for days-in-a-row, of objects to take note of in an otherwise clear morning sky, sometimes multiple occurrences of these things, so that their "drying up" all at once... seems as queer as seeing so many of them at one time and for so many days in succession...  
I'm not making this stuff up, forgetting I get a real kick out of telling the reader about it (Yes YOU, reaching for that cup of... is it green tea?  And YOU, scratching the inside of your nose... some might call it "picking" [g]).
...But no UFOs to report...  I can't tell the reader they're there if they're not, but that's for purely selfish reasons.  I would just be too disappointed with myself... have no respect for myself, no saving grace, and, consequently, no self-actualization.  I'd be on that despair-producing and well-oiled path to a true personal hell on Earth. 
Still, I'm hoping this "Odd Observation series" does not become the usual "albatross". 
What experience have I had with an albatross? 
The (highly regarded!) constant reader knows I collect them like the chains of Mr. "T", and for some of the same reasons as it turns out [g].  Oh, they are all very righteous, my (our) "dead birds," John Ford and Emma Woods, and I don't regret a single one of them, forgetting they get difficult to bear... if necessary to wear.
Truly, some things have to "smell" and be uncomfortably in sight until they see some justice... some healing resolution that serves us ALL!  The well-chosen albatross is necessary for personal growth.  It's what Coleridge's albatross is all about.  Anything else is to experience true cultural dissolution, intellectual dysfunction, and spiritual desolation.  Name one?
Easy.  That same aforementioned John Ford.
John Ford became a kind of albatross for me, forgetting that I was abundantly confident that the BALDLY obvious injustice of the situation would win him a quick, or at least eventual, release.  Wrong on both counts.  A Kafkaesque horror ensued.
John Ford, the reader recalls, was the strident Suffolk county New York "UFO nut," TOO many years ago now, who "tried to murder," allegedly, a political rival, John Powell (et al), by conspiring to put radium in his household tooth paste.  Forget for a moment that John Ford was very busily, very passionately, and also very diligently investigating John Powell pursuant to a righteous CORRUPTION DISCLOSURE involving key civil agencies of what was, and likely still is, a thoroughly corrupted local government.  It wasn't all UFOs. reader.
Forget that John Ford's strident investigation was legalethical, and reflective of a man who was a retired law enforcement officer of the Suffolk county court system and holder of a Master of Science degree. Forget that after John Ford was thrown in a hole to rot and be forgotten, the "right honorable" John Powell pled "no contest" to CONSPIRACY and RACKETEERING CHARGES with links to organized crime, and, to my knowledge spent not one day in jail doing hard time!
Doesn't anybody else smell the fetid fragrance of  that fulsome fishy flounder or floating bit of fecal matter in the public punch?  Do the *facts* of this strange case support anything else BESIDES the well told American fable of the "little guy" taking it squarely in the ass for the crass convenience of the "big guy", and all of this scurrilous activity in DIRECT contradiction to every precept, ideal, and ethic we're supposed to hold dear in this Nation?  John Ford was, the reader can bet, foully hull-breached for investigating the activities of a man who could not bear that investigation!
John Ford, baldly accused of conspiracy to murder, and then locked in an institution for the criminally insane for his belief in the ufological, could very likely be crazy now, just under 20 years into this very likely criminal false imprisonment, and be entirely forgiven.  It doesn't help that he looks like Elmer Fudd, has a voice reminiscent of Daffy Duck and was as stridently litigious as Yosemite Sam is angry and bellicose... it doesn't matter either!  
John Ford was likely just one more easy victim of the criminally arbitrary, a pawn of an aristocratic elite, and just another crushed bug for the boss of a corrupt Republican political machine.  Such seems abundantly so.
John Ford's civil rights have been egregiously trampled on, his human rights have been abrogated in a similar manner... raped and sodomized is no hyperbole.  What indignities has he had to endure, what injustices has he suffered, and what petty tyrannies?  What cruel assaults on the spirit?  What unearned insults to pride?  What sneering tyranny on his person?
That's enough this trip.  I remain, "...watching our skies."  There's something up there.  When I see it I'll tell you about it.  If I don't, I'll tell you about something else.  
Read on!

Friday, November 13, 2015

Fastwalkers Revealed!

Fastwalkers Revealed...
by Alfred Lehmberg

...Because I'm reasonable, rational, intellectually honest... and because I look?  I see UFOs.  No "beam-ships" or "mother-landers" as yet.  Cool the jets.  I only see point-source lights remaining unidentified.  That is all.

Now, sometimes, through blows and stretches, these observed UFOs go away.  It's like a ufological "silent spring," out there for me, when that happens.  That... ...inexplicable sudden dearth of strangely moving unidentified objects in the night sky, sometimes lasting for days, is, and unsettlingly, peculiar.

I'm nonplussed by that absence, even as I am encouraged, inspired, and excited when they are around. Where do they go? Where DO they go?

Truly, they ARE conspicuous in their absence, but—as we can all extrapolate and I paraphrase!—evidence of absence (my own evidence!) is NOT absence of evidence (sic).  It's personal to be sure, hard to transfer, but abundantly adequate enough for me.  UFOs are real... I wonder what that might mean... my intuition is good things in the aggregate.

Hey... that's the ride we're on... ...Right?

So, where ARE the objects a stridently pompous skeptibunky or stuttering klasskurtxian has said SHOULD be up there! The proposed satellites, stations, and shuttles ... the birds, bolides, balloons, and boosters... are not to be found at all... considering the frequency with which I used to see *them*, and which the aforementioned skeptibunky has always maintained they were...

Where do they go? Where do they go? Where do they go?  If what I am seeing is the prosaic mundane, where does the... "prosaic mundane" ...go?

UFOs ARE out there, of course.  Too much about them has been hammered in stone, penned in ancient ink and pushed into old paint for them to be anything BUT real, reader, just to start!

Indeed, Jacques Valleeamong significant others like Friedman, Feschino, Hastings and Dolan—has written extensively and convincingly about them.  Many years ago, now, he even told us what they were called...

Fastwalkers!  That's a coined word just dripping incongruity and high strangeness... isn't it?

"Fastwalker":  a term NORAD (North American Air Defense Command) invented to categorize objects approaching from space, entering our atmosphere, maneuvering strangely about, and then leaving the atmosphere again in a manner not consistent with the aforementioned boosters, birds, balloons, and bolides!

Uh... maneuver about and leave?!  Let that sink in...

It is a word also used to describe trans-lunar phenomena (tlp's): anomalous motive objects with the particularly peculiar flavor of *things* ufological... moving quickly across the face of the full moon and filmed through quality telescopes on Earth... or on shuttle flights... let that sink in... too.

The Air Force NORAD facility, it has been convincingly reported, observes these "Fastwalkers" from its subterranean facility deep inside super secret Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado, and tracks a rough average of 500 of them (UFOs for the uninitiated) each YEAR as they enter the Earth's atmosphere from deep space, maneuver around, and then leave again. You're reading that correctly... ...enter... maneuver around... ...leave again... what?!

This is not a fiction. It corroborates a similar report from AeroJet General engineers Lee Graham and Ron Regehr, who have revealed to the bully-boy UFO researcher Don Ecker documents further revealing that AeroJet's DSP satellite system, alone, routinely detected UFOs flying into Earth's atmosphere from deep space... ...up to two to three times per month.  My Dad, Alfred junior, worked at Aerojet until the space program imploded.  He told me similar stories...

Ho hum? I suspect not.

But these ironically well cited tales are dismissed as... ...fatuous fluff... from the fabulous, if late, Philip Klass' "fabled foggy fringe of wrongly focused and facile fools" (...no respect for dead sons-of-bitches here!) ... until, that is, one stumbles quite inadvertently upon corroborating evidence from an unlikely source in an unlikely place at an unlikely time.

Pay attention now...

MY corroborating evidence was picked up like a winning lottery ticket found in the commode stall of a Baptist Church lavatory...

Fastwalkers revealed... ...up close and personal... Here are the details:

As a function of my long military experience at Fort Rucker, Alabama (Home of Army Aviation), I have a few enjoyable privileges left coming directly as a result of it.  One of these privileges is an invitation to the annual "October Fest," a stateside based German Aviation Officers Ball... put on every year (towards the end of September, oddly), for their American allies, et al...

At this fest (...a satisfyingly gonzo party, actually...) there is polka music, traditional German fare, wursts and krauts... but the best is yet to come! ...The finest damned beer in the known universe is imported unpasteurized (YUM!) from the genuine breweries of the Fatherland mit strumpfhosen und tanzen girdleya?

...I mean beer so good you can have it for freakin' breakfast... FREE!  Yeah-baby!

Life is indeed GOOD at these (by invitation only) Teutonic soirees... Yee ha! ...but I digress...

Towards the midpoint of the party my wife—a German National herself, oddly enough, so we're kind of tuned to the stammtisch—led me to a table presided over by a woman she knew from the Fort Rucker German club. The conversation got very lively, all the male participants were abundantly sloshed (...getting sloshier...) and feeling tres expansive, dicks all out, while expressing themselves similarly... ...with all guards well down…

The females graciously indulged us that ... given how messy we are to both tolerate AND clean up after, subsequent to an "abundant sloshing"? ... anyway...

One of the participants at this little ad hoc collection of retired and active duty aviation officers was a very senior Army lieutenant colonel (on the list for full bird) just coming from a very interesting, on topic, and unusual military assignment.

Get this... he was the senior Army liaison officer to the Air Force's facility at Cheyenne mountain, NORAD, mentioned earlier.  I sobered up pretty fast.

"How about those fastwalkers," I asked him in a lull of his rather too pompous oration regarding the NORAD assignment...

The broad smile came off his face like I'd slapped him.  UFOs ARE serious business, it seems.

"NORAD is not set up to see things like that," he said with a focused, clipped, and too narrow tightness.

"Like... see what exactly"? I asked him with an evil grin.

"That's classified," he said frostily, all expansiveness in retreat and alerted guards coming up like fists.  He got the "offended Colonel" look.  I'm sitting there well retired with long hair and a Guy Fawkes beard. The other guys and their wives noticed the sudden *frost* and fell silent. Someone even asked, "What's the matter"?

...The good Colonel just gave me an indication how weird things really are... I thought to myself, but without violating any security oaths. Though, I allowed, out loud, to the beleaguered Colonel that I didn't mean to put him on the spot about security issues, just that I found the subject of UFOs very interesting myself (and shouldn't everyone?)... I might as well have tried to get a silenced adherent to talk about Skull&Bones.

The conversation went (too gratefully) back to a now muted party talk, and the Colonel?  He and his wife were the first to leave.  OK, a UFO Nut ruined the party, but what about what's on the other side of my offense?

Does everyone else see the veiled admission here? Does anyone else see the incongruity of the exchange between the colonel and I? Why the quick frost; why the terse (and blundering) reminder of top level classification; why WAS he so put off? Maybe if he told me he'd have to kill me, not as funny as it sounds ...and what's up with THAT?

Fastwalker... It's just a word, isn't it? That aforementioned fascination of "facile fools" mentioned earlier? Be that as it may, it was a word that one very slightly ambushed Colonel knew and apparently knew very well.

It was also a word that held a lot of jaw clenching import for him ... forgetting that it was enough of a word for one total stranger to be reflexively terse, tensed up and tight-mouthed over, damned near hostile... ...with another. It was certainly enough of a word to inject ill will into the pleasant encounter ... when seconds prior good will flowed from baccalaurean fountains and a good time was being had by all!

...Perhaps, just perhaps... it's more than just a word at the denouement. Nes't-ce' pas?

...As regards the absence of my own observed Fastwalkers? When they go away for any significant time I begin to wonder, sincerely, if I had ever seen them at all... but that I can review the previous written recordings I've made chronicling some of the more significant sightings, personal evidence (...a personal record...) of something I've indeed seen in starry skies all over North America, points of occurrence north AND south and overseas. But for this series I wouldn't (couldn't!) be so sure. Writing about it is a recording after all.

Writing about it is a lasting monument to it having happened. I know you have other things to do reader, a family to protect and provide for... a living to make...

...I'll make that written monument for both of us.

So I do see something, my testimony is a matter of public record, and "Fastwalker" IS a real word... indirectly, but convincingly confirmed by one of the *players* in that field.

Fastwalkers are real. N'est-ce pas? Nothing else makes lasting sense.

Now—apart from what I report here there readily exists some interesting footage and intriguing reportage lathering the potentiality for more of the same in this area. "Fastwalker" is also a credible film recently released by the team of Bruce Jessop and Robert & Anthony Miles.

They further invite us on "a great and wondrous journey... an exciting adventure, perhaps into our very own past, present and future"! The film's production values, the quality of most of the witnesses and commentators, and the overarching theme is such that astounding events are imminent, reader, and not restricted from crossing international boundaries effortlessly via this film. A new era dawns if we but allow it.

Indeed, a new transparency and accountability from officialdom seems penultimate to offing! Moreover, that aforementioned transparency and accountability could provide for a progressive forthcoming-ness... leading to a new age of increased potential and enhanced capability, possibly, for humanity transportation, medicine, computer tech and nano tech.

 That said, whatever one might think of exopolitics and the persons officiating it? The message of the proceeding film was entirely consistent with an efficacious personal philosophy and I could find nothing to disparage in any of it, even from any of the contributors of questionable quality; I can only wonder at the inclusion of some of them at all.

 All voices heard? Still, my sense is that the film's message is entirely without fault.

That's enough, eh? Read on!


Sunday, November 08, 2015

Odd Observation #3

Odd Observation #3
by Alfred Lehmberg

What is it about Sunday?  Angels airily flitting about in pursuit of their heavenly errands?  Ah... mmm... no... Demon's minions or Satan's spawn busily prosecuting their "justified" hatred for God? Uh-uh...  UFOs mysteriously engaged in activities all their own and unknowable for that?  Ding!

*BRAVE* positions of mutual exclusion given the vast, vast majority of individuals who don't have a clue what any of these "ideas" are, really.  This writer included.  

But ~I~ saw two "Manifestations of an Indeterminate Type" (MITs?) on a Sunday morning during the routine night watch, and I was neither saved nor was I possessed.  I was transported, mind you, but that's an explainable result of getting a quick (albeit fuzzy) look at the larger reality and not the conflicting realities of pompous predigested pap we get from our corrupt social institutions, churches, and statehouses.  

...But whoa, friends and neighbors... that's a digression too fertile to look at right now.  I don't want to talk about that, and I'll get to my sightings (mere, but eerily performing, NLs) in a moment. But right now I want to talk about HYPNOSIS.

Hypnosis has a strange history shrouded in chicanery, humbuggery, and a little something extra one can't put a finger on. That little something extra is what keeps it around, makes it useful, and justifies a harder look by science...

...Sometimes it works.  Science says so.

One hears the word "hypnosis" and is overcome by images of stage personalities suggesting to people that they can be transformed into barnyard animals, dance a grand ballroom fandango, and be compelled to lose weight or quit smoking... but the program can be more insidious than that...

If two thirds of the population can be effected by phenomena that science can quantify (if not qualify), it  seems to be a ready mechanism for control by manipulative forces and their convenient programming suggestions... autocratic manipulations delivered via a daily sensory bombardment from a very tightly controlled media—news print, radio, television and the internet.  

An individual buying in to the unceasing manipulations of our contrived, distorted, and corrupted mainstream might even take the next step in their own "control" by hypnotizing themselves with self-suggestion!  In effect, rendering themselves incapable of perceiving what is there, plainly, to be perceived, and NOT, conversely, seeing what is not there to be seen... It's all about suggestion, rationalization (rational lies), and the prepackaged excuse to avoid critical thinking...

A true story...

While on active duty many years ago, and before I developed a keen interest in the ufological, I had a barbeque at my home, one evening, with five or six couples and a few obstreperous singles in rowdy attendance.  I was standing away from the noisy group with two other men, one AH-64 (Apache) instructor pilot, and the other a fixed-wing driver who was an Army candidate for the astronaut program. 

These were two quality guys, persons having to otherwise demonstrate a rare degree of intelligence, competence, and skill in the kick-back mode. The sun had just gone down and dusk was washing out to the blackness of the unappreciated starry night. 

There was a lull in our conversation, and one of the men looked up and said, "That's odd..." Pointing at the sky with his beer hand, we all looked up to see a 3 by 9 black strip about as wide as a little fingernail held at arm's length and flying diagonally through the air, left tip forward about 45 degrees, no hint of fuselage, nose, or tail!  It looked a little like the obelisk in 2001

As it flew, one of the men remarked that the craft had very peculiar position lights.  These lights were white strobes that ran from "wing"-tip to "wing"-tip, and then back again... additionally there was no evidence of the required red and green (left and right) tip lights, and no flashing anti-collision light...

"Well... it's got to be something..." one of the men said... and, with that, the object was all but forgotten and otherwise erased from our short term memory. All three of us returned psychologically to the spirited party.  More beer was had by all, and the festivities continued into the usual drunken mini-brawl for which Army aviators USED to be famous...

I didn't remember this occurrence again for almost a decade.  I was reminded of it later only after seeing a similarly baffling object in California subsequent to developing my aforementioned interest in UFOs. 

I would suggest that my two fellow aviators and I followed the programming hypnosis of "polite" society and ignored a sighting that should have been VERY interesting to two professional military instructor pilots and a candidate astronaut, one would have thought!  We reflexively and very neatly self-hypnotized ourselves with the calming mantra:  "It's got to be something... It's got to be something..."  Meaning of course, It's got to be something ~prosaic~.  I remember doing it.  At the time it made perfect sense... there were "bigger" (hah!) fish to fry.

So, we were less than interested, and we astonishingly ignored a genuine UFO as a non event—behavior on this end of the time stream that now seems inexplicable to me.  We hypnotized ourselves (followed our social programming) and rejected the unsettling enigmatic for the comforting mundane.  We ignored what our eyes were reporting to us and replaced it with an "accepted" pre-programmed routine.  

We turned our back on the unexplained, likely occurring around us all the time (unseen), and made it fit into what we are trained to find culturally tolerable... Adjusting our cultural blinders, we returned our coward's eyes to the ground. 

What teaches us such cowardice?

I've watched this process of denial (through self hypnosis) at work twice now.  Another occurrence manifested itself at a rubber-powered model airplane flying meet in Northern California. Dozens of us watched a UFO fly by five times, over a period of a few hours, with fewer and fewer people looking up to watch it fly with each succeeding pass that it queerly made!  ...Tell yourself enough times that "something's" not there?  It's not there!

Recent scientific research gives every indication that science believes the human brain is capable of convincing itself to perceive what is not there to be perceived.  I would suggest that it can also do the inverse of that.  It can also mask what is there to be seen, as plain as shining day.  We won't pay enough attention to that... given that we have to overcome so much programming from our myopically conflicted and therefore suspect culture, but I hazard the same digression that I walked away from earlier...

 ...We MUST pay a new attention, ultimately, if we ever expect to see anything really there, at all. We stumble through our lives with social bags over our heads that we would not tolerate if we had a suspicion regarding that larger reality mentioned earlier.  Look around under the lip of your "bag" reader, and see if you can't agree.

I've looked beneath the lip of my bag and had sightings of my own like the ones I mentioned earlier. That aforementioned Sunday morning these fast moving nocturnal lights clipped by collectively overhead at over five degrees a second!  Too slow for meteors and too fast for planes. Also collectively, they were of equal brightness and color, a couple of magnitudes dimmer than Sirius and pearl blue in color.  No field glasses that morning (the wife had moved them). 

The first was noticed when it was due West at about 60 degrees in elevation, about 04:50 Central, before moving like a tracer round into the body of the great bear, tracking due North until it was lost in the distance.  The second occurred about 05:00 hours, was first noticed above and to the left of Polaris (about 70 degrees in elevation). It tracked due South until lost in the distance.  I don't know that they were the same object, but their appearance and speed were identical.  I have to allow that it is possible.  

It's suggested by the larger reality, cited in the forbidden index, and proved in the heart of the individual.  It's "got to ~be~ something" for sure.  

The "new" wrinkle is that I no longer self-hypnotize, or otherwise allow myself to be hypnotized,  that is has to be something... "prosaic."  But sensed, it does have to be... something.  Something, indeed.

I remain watching our skies.  Read on!

Tuesday, November 03, 2015

It's All About Conscience

Conscience Has Depth!

It's all about conscience, I think.  If you don't have one then it might have to be legislated... you know, a government of the mortal people for the mortal people by the mortal people.  See, corporate personhood is a lie when you don't jail them for crimes committed and they can live on much, much longer than the mere mortals serving them like they were mammonous Gods.
One reads from both sides of the conceptual political aisle and in a quiet moment—in the felt presence of same—makes a choice to come down on one side of the fence... or another.  One side will rationalize their psychopathy, the other will try to ameliorate same.  I'll leave it to the reader which is which...
For me, frankly, it came down to wondering how much other folks have to pay so I can play. Other folks shouldn't have to pay much, if anything at all, see, for such as that.  A reasonable net from disaster and the smallest respect for one another is all that is required.  A small 10% investment from the gargantuan corporate welfare portion that one pays in income taxes would pay for nets and respect in abundance.  For myself,  I shouldn't be one major illness from the street or casual prey for banksters, oligarchs, and corporate scoundrels.
Others more stridently sociopathic see that exactly one-eighty out. These provoke the revolution consuming them. These, in turn, provoke me.  I'm not the one spoiling for a fight.  That's the province of those who would legislate my morality, penalize my atheism, or gut entitlements already rifled by the religulous scourges threatening them, entitlements I paid into my whole life!
Changing gears, I've worked out, I think, why the revolution always seems to start at some seat of learning or another as its "headwaters." Had the reader noticed that, too?  Moreover, it can be more easily excused why a... ...way-overly-maligned-for-same "academia" could, justifiably, lean decidedly left.
Consider, they're where the books are, books containing the primary, unspun, historical references for a true and unvarnished history of real existentiality!  Conscience begins there, I think.
Nonplussed Studentia and academia are in a position to have enlightening exposure to primary—and in too many cases, proscribed—reference regarding historical "understanding."  This understanding is an understanding from which a rank and file hoi-polloi-working-citizen are presumptively excused?  Yes.
"Nothing to see here, move along... move along," as these are prodded along with some societal cudgel or insulting circus distraction. ...Cruel weirdness in these primary references, shocking abundances of sneering psychopathy masquerading as good business.  The plight of the Native American in the Americas is one example.  The antebellum South another... I digress, but our inability to mea culpa on issues such as this is the sun source of our division and mistrust in one another.
Back to track, exposed to the same more broadly illuminated historical understanding as select others enjoy, understanding not otherwise served up by the hijacked mainstream and errant fundamentalists? That aforementioned "excused" rank and file is likely just as outraged and otherwise provoked to revolution... peaceful and otherwise... as would be those students... or anyone. That's too bad.
Such is enlightenment. The truth told to be believed must be understood.  Better times beckon beyond.
I suspect most folks are basically good. They just don't want to be got over onshined on, and otherwise shat upon.  Understandable.  Reasonable, even!  These do not deserve the ignorance thrust upon them so disrespectfully!
Other items not mentioned or otherwise served up by the 'official' corruption of our day to day affairs? Oh—just the whole rest of the freaking multi-verse is all... We're mislead about all things not pertaining to the actualization and subsequent care and feeding of  the gelded, overburdened, and inert employee and harried overseer...
Meanwhile... an incessant cornucopia of unending spaceun-bracketed time, and infinite surface area... enough space, time, and surface area to insure that your imagination's contents and much more hasis, or will happen in the real world... ...whatever that is!  What can happen, does!
See genuine UFOs, for example, and one begins to realize that enough of these three aforementioned facilitators exist to have monkeys typing eventual Shakespeare or a Right Wing politician opening his mouth without a requisite turd falling out. Yes reader! Even that!
...And you know what the high-domes and propeller-heads with degrees Piled Higher and Deeper are breathing on, good reader, as rather befits the center of the universe (you) in a nexus of many centers?  It is this.
You may have some control, individually, of all that potential, and more than you realize, sir and madam! This is a control decidedly apart from that metered out by a culture that is not your friend. That's right!
...Other beings? Supplementary people? ETI trying for a progressive track facilitating its own evolution to Godhood... all there in the abundance of other abundances... tracking just like we would wish to... ...and stand attentive, Bible thumper!
What kind of God would suffer a mewling and hypocritical sycophant such as yourself, if so? Or, even suffered, remotely respect?
Would, the reader in God's sandals? I think not. If'n you would?  We'll, I guess we don't have a lot to otherwise even talk about.  Step down, off and away.  I resent, reject, and revile your imposition on me of personal authoritarian faith.
What?  You're not a God?
Aren't you? ...Aren't you?  Sure you are!  conscience is godliness!  Take it in a good way!  It'll keep you from being a monster.
All you lack, reader, are resources to inhabit the role, plus the time to practice a refinement of same. Too, these resources are also found sometime in space, someplace in time, and on some bit of surface area, somewhere.  I understand you might be able to make it appear here and now.  There is no try; do or do not, as Yoda says.
You can bring the mountain to you, as has been written, a worried intelligentsia and porcine authority begins to suspect.  Nothing is impossible.  As it turns out, the "kingdom" really was at hand, all along.  Hell, too...  We gird and drive!
See, not only has anything already happened, understand, it is likely presently happening, and will happen again, too.  There's that much space/time and habitable surface area, eh?
Anything. Any thing. That's good news if we let it be so, every bit as much as what could be bad, I know.  Yet, I sense a goodness, not credited or qualified, all the same...
Rejoice!  The Internet is an expansion of the conscience alluded to, and conscience makes it so! Why?  Conscience is evolved consciousness and consciousness is potential artifice!  Rejoice!
Read on!

Saturday, October 31, 2015

The Butter Melts In His Mouth!

Frick and Frack!  The butter melts messily...

"One more thing: Don't forget that [Emma Woods] has, since she began her vilification campaign against [David Jacobs], turned herself from a nobody into an international personality by playing the victim card. She has been on radio shows, written articles, and been the subject of extensive debate across the online world. I don't know if she has earned any money from any of these pursuits, but she is far from an unknown now. She's made herself into an object of sympathy."

"So who is exploiting whom?"
Gene Steinberg Host/Executive Producer, The Paracast

What gravid idiocy. What stark misogyny. What smug intellectual cowardice on the part of Gene Steinberg! 

"Playing the victim card" is a snap when you see a "doctor," expect to be treated with "respect" and "professional courtesy," and are instead treated like a toy for the amusements of a slack-jawed psychopath and woo-dabbler the likes of a David Jacobs, imo, and then relegated to victimhood! "Playing the victim," one finds, is effortless exercise where one is forced to same and is an ACTUAL victim, Steinberg.

"International personality" is the weakest tea for an alias, Steinberg, a ridiculous accusation when she'd trade it all back to have never been introduced to Jacobs at all! Moreover, how pleasurable is that "fame" and "celebrity" for you were it imposed on daughter, wife, or mother?  Would that make you proud? ...Maybe you!

In pursuit of justice, the recapture of self-respect, and to alert others to the clear and present danger of a too celebrated psychopath in their midst, imo, she was a guest on _few_ shows, written _few_ articles, and endured only a mawkish celebrity as the subject of "debate" in the online world... the butt of smears and attacks by Jacobs' insentient fan-boys and lick-spittles alluded to earlier. What _fun_!

...And leave it to the money-grasping and shamelessly begging insentience that is Gene Steinberg to wonder if she has "made any money" on her intellectual rape and horrific abuse, eh? How like Gene, am I right? 

See, she didn't make _herself_ into an object of sympathy. She was forced to same by the inappropriate and unwanted dalliance of a smug slubberdegullion, only, and one ever thinking, only, of himself. What could possibly be the mechanics of Woods' "profit"?

Indeed! "Who _was_ exploiting whom"?  Gene Steinberg, money grubbing taint sneeze, wants to know.