Sunday, June 21, 2015

Cherished Dreams Of Monkeys


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So your mind is more than made up? ...Your convictions hard as stone? ...Your philosophy all laid out? ...Your demons driven prone?
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All *important* questions answered? All the *evils* outlined plainly? All the *angels* in YOUR Outfield?  Does the "liberal" mewl inanely?
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Do UFO’s infest weak minds? Is that field all a lie? Think Doug and Dave were "heroes" stomping "circles" late at night?
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Are some folks just *superior*?  Are the others doomed to die?  Are you yourself all blameless? Do your eyes avoid the sky?
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Think gay men are unnatural? ...Gay women soon to fry? Dismissed from white, elitist heavens when they “slough this coil” and die?
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Do you tithe your church for Sunday’s brunch? Are you driving great big cars? Do you light your home on Christmas eve Like exploding nova stars?
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Think the “playing field” is level? Think “bootstraps” are the answer? Think welfare is unnatural, but a corporate dole’s not cancer?
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You think the fifties were a heaven to which we are returning? Think “God” should rule in Government ... thinking that won’t cause more burning?
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Did Jewish genocide ne`re occur? Occurring, they encouraged what they got? Are you thinking ~hemp~ is all about just growing/smoking pot?
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If “yes” stains just one answer... And you’ll chance a change anew, Then best get straight, take stock ... wise up!  Embrace an Alien View!
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Want some truth to all the falsehood? Want to cop to REAL biz`? No thing, and I mean NOTHING... Is a way you ~think~ it is!



alienview@adelphia.net
www.AlienView.net

~Musical Interlude~

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See, our agreed upon "cultural fables" means something—means anything at all, actually—because, individually, we make it mean something! We do this just like we do our money. Consider... our money is entirely valueless but for our shared agreement that it is not.  Lost faith means lost value.
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No, the aforementioned cultural fable—replete with corporate beasts braying like privileged weasles—is only a best, and perhaps not best educated, guess at an interpretation of how we have told ourselves, instructed ourselves ... convinced ourselves that *the way things are*, are truly, the way *things* are!  They're not, you know.
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...Not to be blamed entirely, then, are the unelected governments, non-accountable agencies, and duplicitous institutions we tolerate at peril. See, we individuals still have to buy in, mote by errant mote into "the official reality." We're required to buy in under "penalty"... or it all just evaporates away.
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Moreover, unsettlingly, and with greater frequency, the aggregate fable changes for the observer just for the observer observing the fable. Consider the impertinent deconstruction of a W.B. Smith by persons sometimes as canted as they are impertinent.  There is much to distort an observation prosecuting an adjacent agenda than is admitted in the proclamation that it be scientifically unbiased.  It isn't because it says so, eh?
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W.B. Smith was a quality human instrument in the tradition described by Allen Hynek. He gave us evidence of high government ufological involvement, the "quadrature," and the "non-interference doctrine."  Kirk and Spock's concern that the prime directive be observed comes directly from Smith and not Gene Roddenberry who knew of Smith and pirated the philosophy, is this writer's understanding... Observed in the light of homocentric cant, as Spock and Kirk were, Smith's positive effect for a future-hurtling humanity is obverted and falsely invalidated. This is so we talking monkeys can hold on to our cherished if baseless dreams.  My intuition is that there are better dreams.
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The truth changes... or does it...
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Government is real? Our loves are real? Our hates are real, and it wouldn’t all just disappear with the first asteroid, consuming prion, or at the first whim of "the man" (?)
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*Reality* is nonsense. Reality... is what we impose ourselves or is imposed upon us. We make it up as we go, and as we go, the manufacture of that reality accelerates.  Fasten your belts.
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...And reality is nonsense, good reader, because perception, condition, and situation are different for wildly divergent people all over our planet... Eight or eighty? Blind, crippled or crazy? Walking, crawling, or stinking — sociopath or sociophile...
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What now brown cow?  Over our shoulders yawns the fathomless multiverse like a sentient beast, eh?
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Is it more than blind luck, good and bad, that you are where you are at present? It's not what we think! For some, surviving that just conjectured asteroid strike is a step up, and still, the individual is at the extreme dead center of it all … The Center. Of. It. All.
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~You~ are the center of the universe, reader. Me too, but that's beside the point. There must be responsibilities and mindfulness associated with that centrality.
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Cozy America... there are horrors "out there" beyond our contrived borders for which we are liable—consider the production of your child’s soccer ball, or those long fat bananas mom buys down at the store... and these are a couple of the most (seemingly) innocent (...both of the preceding have real environmental horror stories) ... Cathy Lee Gifford knows what I’m talking about! "K"-cups?  Don't get me started. Who pays so you can play?
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Once we think we have the deadlock nut on something, we are loath to let that solidity, even ~if~ an imagined solidity, go. We fight for our dodgier convictions out of some weird pride of authorship, or ownership—made whole cloth out of "self-centered convenience," only. Some of those convictions are seen as dead right, others as dead wrong. We end up on one side—or another—of this transient meaninglessness... and despair.
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All too soon, then, we are entrenched in some destructive belief system out of sheer momentum. This is how Christians bury Muslims in swine offal when they fight the Bosnian wars (It happened!). This is how homosexuals are beaten (...stoned? Dragged behind cars?) until they're dead (It’s happening!). Do these persons bring their treatment upon themselves? Do they? Or is it brought upon them out of mean ignorance, intolerance, or indifference to ones more ethical compassion! Not a question, reader... an observation.
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All this dissolves upon a search for the un-stretched mechanics of why conditions ~are~ as they are—the Alien View. When the chips fall as they may, and we all cop to *conditions*, those *conditions* improve real fast... even if it means the, ah... ...*best*... having to give up the *best* champagne ... just for a while! Even if you have to be a little ashamed ... just for a while... one ultimately cops to personal responsibility... or despairs!
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Example: the raw numbers say the ratio is roughly seven to one—working ~honest~ poor at or just above the poverty line, to clear profit millionaires, in these United States. Imagine a, let’s go nuts, $25,000 annual boost or subsidy in that working poor woman single mom's hand for her trouble... 25 x 7 is $175,000... or, the clear profit millionaire only clears $825,000 – the next year, of course, he recoups his loss, plus, in the hotter economy, “but what the hell...” the millionaire now reasons, “...a bird in the hand...”
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This is how he (the man) treats people who build his house, keep him warm ... heat his water... shovel his shit!
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Nothing is the way we fallible humans think it is. This is why we have to detach, move back ... see proverbial forests for proverbial trees; be able to re-evaluate positions in the light of new evidence... and grow. Admitting that you are wrong (...when you admit it?) is, still, a step up. This is where we will find our salvation—in tolerance, hard (at first) uncomfortable truth, and then its incandescent light.
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Sincerely, if you didn’t have *stock* in one position or another, like an alien might not, would you even hold the positions that you hold? Don’t be too quick with your affirmation; it’s very likely wrong.

Saturday, June 13, 2015

...Smoke And Fire...


Something truly horrible has occurred to me and my friends or family, reader, close and extended.  You, reader, if you had regard for my expression.  I wanted you to hear it first from me.

To start, a person's character and reputation should suffer for that which they bring upon themselves, and not what is thrust upon them.

Indeed, a decent person without a criminal record and engaging in no criminal activity who tries to live a life of service, consistency, artistry, and fidelity should be heaped with honor, lauded by superiors, appreciated among his peers, and loved by subordinates, one would think. Failing any or all of the preceding? Respectfully left alone, reader, and treated respectfully.

Let me, briefly, tell you a story about a person who satisfied all the requirements for respectful treatment alluded to above. He exists in fact, this actually pretty humble man of singular reputation, service, loyalty, and intelligence... ...but at the whim of a piqued gang of insentient sociopaths (who themselves define inconstancy, project inconsistency, and operate, apparently, outside the bounds of a required civility)... the honorable person alluded to, and unfortunately the subject of this tedious little tale, has had his reputation altered, unjustifiably, in a manner so egregiously repellent that it almost defies description.

To wit: A base character assassination by way of easy association with a crime transcending mere garden variety crime, reader ...even murder.

Yes, a crime worse than murder, reader, because the crime so stealthily accused is a slow murder that is ongoing and without end. It is a murder which transfers. It is a murder which spreads. It is a murder of the soul, and then any adjacent soul which that soul touches, reader. There's no way to sugar-coat this or otherwise put a better face on it, ... You will know this to be true.

In our 21st Century nation we are traditionally twitchy about this singular crime, and where there is that smoke? Why, there must be at least a chance of fire... ...am I right reader... ? ...or how could it possibly have come up, at all? Close to the fire? In this case just smoke? In "Short Attention Span Theatre," you only have one chance to make a good impression on the mass mind. Am I right about that?!

...Perchance to be burned, reader? Closest to the dog has its fleas? Why even take a chance with that accused person where he can be remotely associated with such a dire charge? ...And so it goes...

I mean it's just too bad for the innocent subject of this essay, right?  But... why take the smallest chance, reader, with worse than murder?

A suspicion has been raised! Persons know how serious an accusation such as the forthcoming can be... ...and these persecuting would not remotely pretend to make the charge... but that they had some good evidence of a clear and present danger! A danger so compelling regarding the subject that he is admonished that the local FBI was to be immediately notified?

FBI? In this day and age? Yes.

It doesn't matter that this scurrilous accusation (by association and ham-handed suggestion) is the result of incompetence, bias, stupidity, ineptitude, insentient enmity, and philosophical infidelity.

It doesn't matter that this stealthy charge was without foundation, support or fact and was raised at all to shut the innocent subject down without regard to common sense, base integrity, fair play, or the subject's SPOTLESS reputation.

...Without regard!

See, all that is required is the accusation, reader! Smoke must always mean fire in our presently very corrupted nation. You know this to be true, reader, on some level.

It doesn't matter that the subject of this essay is the third holder of a spotless name carrying the honor and service of protestant ministers, school Principals, Naval research engineers, and military officers.

It doesn't matter that the subject is a certified public school teacher who graduated summa cum laude from an accredited university with his bachelor of science degree , and is between employments and desirous of a teaching position requiring all trust.

It doesn't matter that the subject completed a career as a military officer, was very highly decorated as a Veteran of foreign wars, was a Master Army aviator, and has commanded service schools in an extremely competitive military career structure.

It is all for naught, blown away in an ill wind created at the first use of the word... pedophile... Pedophile is defined as: An adult sexually attracted to a child or children...

...Smoke? Fire, reader?

As has likely been clear... the subject of this essay is myself. I apologize for the tediousness of this, sincerely, but my horn has abruptly and unethically been made into a funnel, honored reader. Consequently, I aim to use every bit of lung (and keyboard) power and blow my horn clear and clearly.

Seriously reader, and you're at the whim of the same brand of sociopath, remember. What would you do?

This 2005 Halloween morning, oddly enough, I woke to one piece of mail in my E-mail box. Cold-cocked, imagine being guilty of what is suggested... bad enough!

Now, reader, imagine being innocent:

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Mon, 31 Oct 2005 04:52:35 PST
To:
errol@virtuallystrange.net, Kimballwood@aol.com
Cc:
alienview@adelphia.net
Date: Mon, 31 Oct 2005 07:52:24 -0500
Subject: Alfred Lehmberg

A review of Alfred Lehmberg via Google produced the listing below, for a child porn site, and there is Alfred Lehmberg's name, using the site.Would Mr. Lehmberg be good enough to explain why his name is listed for usage at the child porn site?
Christopher Jay
Assistant Director
Fort Wayne MediaWatch
RRRGroup
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Usage Statistics for horriblemonster.com - October 2002 - Search ...... 0.19% http://www.degraeve.coms/ 2 0.13% 1940's porn pictures 2 0.13% 2002sexy pic 20.13% aesthetic apparatus 2 0.13% alfred lehmberg 2 0.13% animal fuckphoto ...www.horriblemonster.com/things/search_200210.html - 33k - Cached -Similar pages[ More results from http://www.horriblemonster.com/ ]
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I had to read this 5 times before I understood its awful import... what it meant in the real world... and I wept... ...Wept for those gone before, myself, and those gone after.

Who dares befoul the community in this fashion?

Fort Wayne Media Watch, RRR Group, operates out of Fort Wayne, Indiana, and is headed up by one Rich Reynolds, a man contentious in his criticism if not then clueless in his aspect. Verily, he is a man decidedly inconsistent with regard to an editorial philosophy... imo. Reynolds is in clear charge of an alleged murder of young crows (RRR Group) who regularly publish little attack pieces aimed at selected media producers with whom "they" disagree. I digress to say this crowd may be one person only...

Albeit, this little clutch of literary piranha ("Christopher Jay" is "Assistant Director") has previously turned its feral little eyes to me on numerous occasions over the last year, but it has always stayed within bounds... even if said bounds were insulting, mis-characterizing, and ever obfuscating.

Such was the status quo. One plays cards dealt.

Hell, I'd considered myself more or less favored in their regard, actually. Why, they'd never wished death on me as they are known to have publicly done to others. Finally, it has been rumored that this platoon (?) of vicious attack dogs does not exist at all, remember, and may be but the alter egos of Rich Reynolds himself, but this is again unsubstantiated.

Later in the morning I received this intimidating E-mail from "RRR Group":

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We are sending the information this day to the FBI field office in Montgomery.

CJ
[Christopher Jay
Assistant Director
Fort Wayne MediaWatchRRRGroup]
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Well -- that's a horse of a whole different color, isn't it, reader? As a card carrying member of a governmental corps I have an appreciation of the FBI that RRR Group does not, likely, have. I know that once the FBI bureaucratic gun is cocked, that gun is not so easily un-cocked.

And in the sights of same? Innocent people have been shot, wounded or ruined, reader. You know this to be true.

...And don't pay ANY attention, reader, to the thin protestations of RRR group that "...a private letter was outed and that was the reason for the publicity." Checking the Address lines of my E-Mail "notification" from RRR Group the reader sees that I was the copied recipient of said mail. An *afterthought* numbered third.

In the "To:" line were the host of a popular Canadian radio program AND not to be outdone... ...the address of one who could be called a philosophical enemy...

How is said mail, remotely, ...private... reader?

Let me cut to the chase and throw this imposed smoking bundle out of my reputational yard... make some ultimately futile attempt to repair the damage done... I am innocent. Should I have to even SAY that?

Numerous persons from both sides of the aisle checked the evidence provided above and identified it as bogus or otherwise false, irresponsible... and "wrong... Wrong... WRONG"

A written explication of complete and accurate findings can be found here:

http://www.ufoupdateslist.com//2005/oct/m31-007.shtml

or here...

http://tinyurl.com/38k4bwk

Briefly, what "RRR Group" discovered as a *smoking gun* and *clear and present danger* to the citizens of my community... ...reportedly requiring the notification of the FBI and the *forever* on-going and unending (?) internet destruction of my reputation... ...were the search results of a web site that was, not my own, not itself a porn-site of any type... ...but one that on more than one occasion in 2002 had been searched for the name... "Alfred Lehmberg"... that's all... ...along with some adjacent searches for, "Invader Zim cartoons", "WWII memorabilia" and... "kiddie-porn".

Reader, you can search Jerry Falwell's site for "child sex" and have it show up in his site-usage log... It matters not... ...Mr. Falwell must be a pedophile or a pederast... ? ...if someone searches his site for same... ? ...that's salacious smoke, eh reader? And where there's smoke there must be at least a taste of fire... ...follow? No, not "true"... at all (we should hope), but what does it matter? IT CAME UP! Remeber the length of the otherwise harried and abused attention span of persons of the mass!

Besides, that person reasons, "People just wouldn't LIE about something like this even if damage WAS done!" Right?

It remains that I have been profoundly damaged professionally with regard to public school teaching? It remains that I have been damaged socially? It remains that I have been damaged in my very home where there is much consternation and anger and outrage? It remains that I am damaged in my community? It remains I am on the indiscriminate radar of law enforcement? It remains that I am damaged in the eyes of a world-wide ufological community? It remains that I am damaged... suspect... tainted... ruined, reader?

...Some might argue (and recently) that homicide was justifiable given the severity of this scurrilously cloaked charge? I would, of course, not. There are supposed to be better, more satisfying and ongoing methods available to civilized persons... pause to guffaw.

I am forced to prosecute my case in the court of public opinion!

This situation cannot be belittled or made light of in any way, reader. Can it? This is tough to go over the top on!

The reflexive critic of my outrage has only to put themselves in my shoes and truth becomes clear. What does Mr. Reynolds propose that could possibly make this up to me.

I am innocent... and should never have been put in a position to have to say so. I am innocent. I am innocent. I am _innocent_.

I am innocent, reader. ...And there but for the grace of God, go you?

Mr. Reynolds?
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A P.S. to the above...

Yeah -- I know... the first impulse is to keep quiet and hope this goes away... but that won't happen where the internet is forever, and a future Grandchild (Perhaps the fifth Alfred Lehmberg?) would read something *dodgy* about Grandpa... I couldn't bear it...

You?

Further, hiding leaves my horn a funnel, friend... and the "bad guys" win... ...forgetting they are emboldened to do it... ...again.

Moreover, it would be a little too much like the raped just letting the rapist have a "by"... eh? If I can have a part in this kind of crippling egregiousness not happening to someone else? It's more than worth it.

That said, I dragged a harsh light over on this immediately because there must be guilt in trying to keep something like this quiet...knowuttamean? Besides, just rolling over for lies and scurrilous innuendo? It's not my way... Damages and apologies are demanded!

Put yourself in my shoes.

Already excluded from a teaching career for "directing children to "inappropriate" [unspecified] web-sites [my own iaw syllabus] I'm further libeled as a kiddiporn enthusiast by a person willfully damaging and continuing to damage me, continuing to intimate my guilt, because I won't step off about it, one, and two, have the additional temerity demand damages, moreover, _and_ a sincere apology.

Consider, I'm smeared like this one more time... and even the most forgiving among us will wonder why this "keeps coming up about Lehmberg." Look at Michael Jackson.

Smoke And Fire...

I'm a little disappointed I'm allowed to swing singularly on this when I would not tolerate this happening to any one reading. Some lines just cannot be crossed.

For my part, and this is no ultimatum, mind you, just a statement of intention: I will not contribute where RR is welcome as a contributor in any way. Posted.

Cutting off my nose to spite my face? Sir and Madam! Is that all my satifaction would cost... a nose?

In another more vital and impassioned time I would gladly have cut Reynolds to pieces in a duel.

Take him to court? The way the law is set up I can't do anything to him at all, and he can publish what he wants about me. I have to prove I am damaged!

When will Rich Reynolds publish what he wants about you reader.

Damages? Seven figures.

Apology? Long, detailed, unconditional, effusive, and public.

...Any civil attorneys in the Fort Wayne, Indiana area think I have a case for damages?

We'll keep you posted... reader, and thanks for your attention in this terrible matter. Remember, it could be you.

Sunday, June 07, 2015

When We’re Best

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And what was Hale-Bopp as we write our new scriptures. Assailed we are by the truth in *lost* pictures. We’re alert and alarmed at what we’re ~not~ told! We CAN find the our true heart—we’re incredibly bold!
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It’s true and time honored ... it’s often been said.  It’ll keep and sustain you, like mother’s own bread. ...This feeling we feel when culture seems cursed... that life, while it’s easiest, is when we’re the worst!
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It’s the trial of adversity ... the interesting test that makes us all shine! It’s when we’re the best!
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So hey ... Uncle Sam, or whoever you’ve been... Let it up; let it out; let it by; it’s no sin.
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Those who were "raised," well ... it may be they’ll "fall." They’ll twist and they’ll turn, and they’ll find all the stalls... ...but the truth, as revealed, inside, where we’re free—the truth of Hale-Bopp, friend, it was *there*. You could ~see~!
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It’s a light on our darkness; it points to the fact... that the deck we are played is most sullenly stacked! An elite’s been at work, with passionate intensity! We’re beguiled and mislead ... mere sheep sans propensity...
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So what did we do while Hale/Bopp swung its round? Did we learn, or ascend... or be less than profound? Did we quit or expire... did we undo the web of that which sustains us, and gives a head bread?  Well, yes and in fact some indeed took that tack, and what was obscured by that act no one asks. Who rakes the profit in the profit of ignorance? Who takes advantage of the cognitive dissonance...
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Some may be hung—run out on a rail... stung with a fine... tar stuck to their tails—but for you, and for me, for those who *test* faith? It's for us, not so bad; let us DARE to tempt fate!  Embracing the secular is where we could shine, see, we are the power that "God" hides behind!


alienview@adelphia.net
www.AlienView.net


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It was supposed to have been the biggest cometary event of the millennium!  It was seen further out then any other comet in human history, and even then it was behaving strangely!
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Throwing off a streaming corona of cometary tail well beyond the orbit of Jupiter (long before it would have been predicted to do so), it sparked early tabloid prognostications as the "world killer asteroid" that has crept into, at least, a National cultural consciousness, if not one for the entire world...
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It spawned a new age of ufological awareness, dragged scale encrusted eyes to fathomless skies once again, and even compelled many of the spiritually hapless to sacrifice their very lives to it.
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As it drew closer and closer there was a loud contingent proclaiming the comet as the evil "Wormwood," of ancient revelation prophesy.  Was it sent by fate to end a world age... poison the Earth with plagues, pestilence and pernicious perdition, or seed it with a terrible new kind of life? Humanity was on its toes.
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It was a huge comet! The actual size was the subject of angry debate, but as it coasted by a "watching" Earth (in its odd parabola from beneath an otherwise placid solar system) it spawned from five to eight simultaneous cometary tails!
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I was fortunate to be able to look at the comet with some binocular night vision devises of military specification. The comet looked like a spiny starfish crawling on a green sea bottom of sparkling stellar sand.  Cthulhu was intimated, verily.
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How odd it was that the solar wind would blow off cometary tails of different intensity in such disparate directions. Even the colors of the tails were different in the few tails that could be seen with naked eye. Everything is green in the viewing field of mil spec night vision goggles.
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As already mentioned, Hale-Bopp was a huge event, causing much agitated sturm and tortured drang... and one would have readily predicted—given the closeness of its approach—that it would also be a very heavily photographed event...
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Indeed, the photographs that were taken became the subject of much hysteria, speculation, and distraction... but where were the Hubble, or other big mirror-scope portraits of one of the rarest astronomical events of our time! Yes. They become unsettlingly conspicuous in their ominous absence!
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There are none, none that will even be produced in the face of serious challenge by brave persons such as the late Chuck Shrameck, who photographed an early (and still contested) companion to the otherwise inexplicably ignored comet.
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Oh, there are curious photos at close approach by amateur star hounds like Shrameck of ten inches or less. Moreover, other recent (but lesser) comets were more suitably recorded ... but NO published pictures from the eyes of the big dogs regarding the comet in question—none. None at it's closest anyway. How can this be?
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How can this possibly BE—these pictures MUST exist!
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What was the HIGH STRANGENESS regarding the comet known as Hale-Bopp?
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Friday, May 29, 2015

Inevitable Alternatives And Key Individuals




Inevitable Alternatives And Key Individuals
by Alfred Lehmberg (From UFO Magazine)
Many of us in a ufological C-list rank and file are dismissively chided by the experienced and legitimate researchers in our community as "armchair Ufologists": persons apart from being taken seriously because we have not done any field research. 
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Klasskurtxians or Pelicanists, on the other hand, plus other ax-grinders... knee-jerk debunkers by any stripe or name... accuse our alleged "woo-woo" credulity and too eagerly impugned intellectual openness—a result, ironically, of doing that same field research—as that which is reflexively and by definition dismissible. Our "unbiased," "fetterless," and wholly "credulous" investigation, these sneer, would then ultimately indicate to us that UFOs are so much bunk...  
Heavy sigh.  Damned if don't or do!
Upon conducting a small research of my own I discover, rather predictably, the inevitable alternative.  Verily, my personal experience reveals a path untold by the preceding factions, whatever the provenance of their "aisle side"... separating us, those individuals sincerely curious and genuinely truth seeking... from the efficacious persons the aforementioned "rank and file" should read and watch respectfully... ...and the immediately preceding's polar antithesis: those who should be reviled, despised, and wholly loathed for the intellectual cowards that they are, out of hand!  I'll leave it to the reader who is who.
This writer observes that the former could be more encouraging to the flock they serve and that the latter are just unbravely and self-servingly wrong, in heart and mind...  See? Your individual "investigation," reader, can be positively taken and to a degree the reader can determine themselves.  Remember that the only ones who really needs to be dissuaded or convinced as regards the ufological "such and so" are the individual readers themselves.  The individual is key!
It is not as unusual or as difficult as one might believe.  Moreover, the results of ones personal analysis may not prove to debunk UFOs, and more importantly, the conjectured occupants of same... without regard to how this *other* is manifested in a considered "real" or existential world.  Flying saucers remain real, eh?  Seven monstrous categories say so.
Provenance is not the issue and may be misled conjecture anyway.  "Actuality" of the body's felt presence is the issue.  Here and now.  The moment.
That said, the former might provide a short if comprehensive syllabus outlining a process whereby interested persons might more successfully perform their small research.  This is forgetting that the aforementioned can be accomplished merely answering the questions who, what, where, how, when, and for the angle "why," when possible, to the best of ones ability.  This has been done to a degree, true, but suspect mainstream opposition is an implacable foe, and those initiatives are frozen and scattered in that opposition's wind.
The latter? These can just settle in with a nice steaming cup 'o "shut the f__k up."  Where truth is told in a manner to be understood?  It will be believed.
As I said... I've performed such an individual "research."  Oh, it's a grain of sand compared to Frank Feschino's 20 year old, very assiduously documented and cited... then illustrated research regarding the 1950s military UFO "Flap," to be sure, but it was a research, nonetheless.  It provided convincing personal answers to... Who.  What.  When.  Where.  How.  And lastly, that angle with regard to a "Why," even outside the parameters of diverse real persons observing a bona fide UFO and then having the sacked stone to report it.   
Here's what happened.
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I was looking around in some old UFO Report text files late last century that I had downloaded from a BBS.  I'd come across an episode highlighting the name of a small town within proverbial spittin' distance from me here in southeast Alabama.  I have promised the key person involved they would not be implicated so I will not directly ID the town, just give you salient details of it.
Several people in this small Alabama town observed a UFO.  I have the text of the article concerning the whole incident plus other documentation, but there is no requirement to believe this ol' ex soldier, I'm doing this for me, remember.  You're just welcome on the ride, is all.  Buckle up and extinguish all smoking materials.
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Anyway, intrigued by the proximity of this event, I called the local town's newspaper to see if there was anything to the news article I'd found in those text files—and wouldn't  you just know it?  There was!
In fact it was quite a little tempest in a tea pot, for all that, and I do not mean to diminish it. Not at  all, for what it really was, reader, was a story about courage, integrity, and standing up in the face of authority when it belittles you... or, suggests that you are misrepresenting, mistaken, or mentally ill... when it's you compelled to make a report to lawful authority after observing the highly strange!    
The original story was, of course, doomed to go nowhere.  
I suspect that there are stories like this happening all over the United States, every day.  These are stories dying as a result of being too close to the "informational bone" and challenging of our "slack cultural relevancy."  Moreover, these stories cannot easily be confirmed by the reader and are more easily filed away under amusing occurrences, belittling their importance for cause!  Still, this was a bona fide ufological tempest, close by, even if it was in a teapot...
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...Besides, I was between quarters at college.  I had time, motive, and opportunity to play investigator (folks, I'm no Hercule Perot); as I said, I called the editor at the local paper. 
It turned out the fellow I reached was a talkative sort, and imagine any chief of a small town American rag; a hamster couldn't pass gas in his town without him knowing about it!  
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He talked about the  witness, at last, and I am actually a little chagrined to report... that "X" (the person of provenance in the affair) was a long standing and respected-pillar-of-the-community type further showing historical stability with a responsible job in State government! 
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The Editor went on: apparently "X" was driving with a friend at night and had seen a UFO in the sky, a banana shaped object spinning like a crazed boomerang or dervish!  The object (...not a bird, bolide, booster, or balloon...) had swooped back and forth in front of their moving car while utilizing unfeasible speeds and impossible direction  changes... and then it just disappeared! 
The editor added, further, that there were other reports that night from other credible witnesses at similar times.  Multiple sightings of the UFO would be reported along a path which could be traced on a map! 
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Then the editor talked a short time about the rest of the story... regarding an amusingly satisfying related  situation precipitating some police embarrassment over their not taking  "X"'s  UFO report seriously enough when "X" made it!  A-ha!
Apparently,  the police had mildly ridiculed "X" about the incident, and "X" went through the small-town roof as a result.  The tempest escalated to a reported melee at the county police level, but with the mayor of the effected town brought into tow, "X" secured a complete retraction of the ridicule and a public apology from the police officers involved. This elicited more newspaper coverage, in turn, and a cartoon was produced illustrating the chagrined police chief being dragged down the street by a UFO, saying into a cell phone words to the effect that he had every future intention of taking UFO reports seriously!
See, reader?  You don't have to stand pat for a load of crap from a smirking authority!  
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Well, "Great Story," and I thought that was the end of it, but then he abruptly added that if I "wanted" (!!!) I could talk to "X" myself, and here is "X" 's  home phone number!  I asked him—after I got the number—how he could do that, and he said that "X" did not say not to. Ok!  Works for me!
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Well, I called "X", got a machine—left my tale of explanation, credentials, number, and sincerity ... I even said "don't feel bad" if you don't return the call. 
I got no return call; embarrassed, I have to report I hoped "X" felt bad... 
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I waited a couple of weeks; I didn't want to be the *obnoxious* media—if I wasn't getting paid for it!—and I was just getting ripe to phone back and see if the message was even received... when "X" finally returned my call! 
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"X" wanted to know "how in hell" I got the number!  I ratted the editor out (he didn't say not to), then countered with a barrage of apology, quick assurances of sincerity, and that I would make no trouble.  "X" cooled out. 
After making me promise that I would not identify "X,"  "X" confirmed a large, crazily wheeling boomerang shape that zipped hither and yon in front of them like something "X" had never before seen! "X" said it was a CRAFT!
Additionally, there is something that you have to  understand about "X,"   "X" lives right in the middle of some of the most intensively flown uncontrolled airspace in the known universe, and has lived there the whole of a respected life. 
Anyone who has heard of Fort Rucker, home of Army Aviation, knows that the World comes to Fort Rucker to fly helicopters, day, night and all weather.  "X" had cut teeth on aircraft of all types and knew the difference 'twixt something identified and something "NOT," in her familiar Alabama Skies.
"X" went on to say that the police apology story was overblown; it didn't happen as stridently as the editor had said, but that it was irritating not to be taken  seriously by someone who's salary "X" helped to pay.
God bless  "X", eh? 
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Closing, "X" expressed appreciation if I could provide no further bother on this subject, as it was kind of embarrassing—but that I seemed like a good sport, and I had "done America so proud in the (first) Gulf war..."...
I had to allow that I spent the duration of that war at Fort Rucker itself,  teaching the men and women preparing to participate themselves how to fly in combat.  "X" said that that was OK, I'd done my part—my whole point being that this person was a credentialed, reliable, and respectable person.  Moreover, this was a person able to communicate to me that something incredible was, in fact, witnessed by that credible person, and that real UFO's are existent to one more person I know.  For me, incredible!
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See?  Quality persons all over the world are having these encounters regularly, reader!  Not happening to you, you can bet that it is happening to someone around you... perhaps even to someone close to you. 
Eyes peeled for such, you can investigate same!  Yes!  ...Perform a valuable research, and tell the story. 
Moreover, you don't have to swallow crap from authority when you do the brave thing and report an anomaly.  Consider, a small bravery now precludes, perhaps, that consummate bravery required later on!  Live on your feet or die on your knees!
Lastly, the result of your courage will be an ability to hold your head up in a substantively understanding way with the honored "big dogs" of ufology, plus, avail yourself the corresponding pleasure of serving up the "steaming cup" alluded to earlier for those *others* wholly deserving it!  You'll also get a leg up on the future accelerating inexorably towards you... regardless, but that's a story for another issue.

Less is more, eh?  Read on.   

Wednesday, May 27, 2015

John Ford Betrayed By New York State!



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"...All things in moderation..." covers even moderation! So—to "flip out," now and then, is best allowed! Better keep your eyes wide open, friend, and hear the righteous "soap box" 'cause the season for it grows and won't be cowed!
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I'll play the tune I hear, as I eschew their programed fear... There're "laws" providing same we don't imagine! That their threat's in many places far beyond ones sense's graces; still, we run afoul those claws in our "distraction"!
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...Another's "run afoul," made some charges—caused a row!  Recall again Ford's crime of yesteryear? Remember he's in gulag now for years without a "trial"? Can't you see him sitting quietly, his face bereft a smile?
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Remember his "confession"!  Its premise... poorly fashioned ... the truth, perhaps if known to you—just slow assassination! ...Yet, have some answers, at the last—you'd be refreshed, refueled and gassed if Johnny Ford's restored or recommissioned!
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Not mentioned since our summer of abnormal discontent, still, Ford remains in gulag, minus bail! This is not incarceration, it is dogged persecution!  It's so much more than prison, or a jail. They have him in a nut house where they treat him like a child.  The "treatments" he endures in there would drive a sane man wild!
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A *threat* to dangerous shadows, he is locked up in their hole; he is incommunicado; he is totally controlled. He is fed his spice-less meals lacking interest or confection, and he's led around in routine's mindless grunge, less expectation... He is made to follow orders from the folks he'd disrespect, but he's drugged to an indifference—indistinct... and he forgets!
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And I'm sure they've had occasion, and I'll bet it's off the books ... there've been 'lectrodes on his temples, and they've zapped him—brain cells cooked? Bet the piss ran down his pants leg, and he fouled his issue shorts! I'll bet he trembled in convulsion, shallow breathing—gasping snorts. His jaws were sore for days, I'll bet, from clenched electrocution. He's wondered "what the hell" ... he's wept ... he's wallowed in confusion...
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...And that was just the high point, folks! It's a pay back, day by day. He challenged *their* authority—you can bet *they* make him pay. He had the gall to stand up straight, and ask the tougher questions. He questioned the hypocrisy, so he suffers their "correction." What Ford had—I've not the courage... and neither, friend, have you. We're stunned by Ford's example... as the facts of it? They're true.
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Go too hard against a "current" even though you have the right?  It won't MATTER it's America if the *man's* put out a mite!
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It won't MATTER, then, your facts are straight; you studied hard ... you stayed up late.
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It matters not your conscience screams for better times and "come-true" dreams.
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It shall not matter ground you hold is higher held, and brave, or bold —Culture can ... will grind you down... angry frowns... hurt profound...
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"Cool Hand Luke" was just some movie, so it's likely John was broken. Beyond repair, he breaths some spit, he coughs—no, and I'm not jokin'. It's unlikely he can be restored!  He is likely so alone. In a raptors's crop of culture he is ground betwixt its stones.
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It has swallowed up his message, and it's neutralized his effort; it has cancelled, at the last, his contribution, mind, and spirit. It has buried very deeply what it truly fears—his synergy. To serve its ends? The same for you! See, it's fearful of your energy!
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And that's a point! First him, then me—and finally down to you! ...And this despite good service, or an honor bright and true? Expect them to be living with the rules they make for you, and be sadly disappointed, friend, betrayed... deceived anew!
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Bottom line? It's double standard. It's a tilted playing field. The rich get rich; the poor get poor; the weakest sans all shield. The best lack all conviction, and are neutralized by fear; the worst (?) intense with passion, and they take you in arrears! Get in their way—you're in the grinder, and you're subject to their sword. Without regard to righteousness ... brought down like our John Ford!


  • John Ford is a career "non-violent"!
  • ...Folks, to save a few dollars for platinum fixtures and trophy wives, they push exponentially more mendacious, psychotic, and otherwise sociopathic monsters ...persons prone to extreme criminality... from their overstocked prisons every freaking DAY! Forget the irony that John Ford, by any disinterested report..., was no monster!
  • ..."Was no monster," reader! ...Quite the opposite actually!
  • He was a little guy with a spotless reputation, lawfully, if ardently, investigating a big guy... a "big guy" who could bear no investigation, of any type, at all!  Math done, you begin to get the drift.
  • Yes. John Ford was an educated, honored, principled, and retired court officer—wounded in the line of duty—with a great reputation and a masters degree who supported his mom. His antagonist, the late John Powell, was a criminal entrepreneur at the head of a gargantuan, corrupt, and local government in the state of New York and subsequently CONVICTED for enormous crimes... resulting, by the way, in no real record of hard jail-time this writer can find!
  • Excuse me!
  • This was all late last century, reader... an innocent John Ford rots in prison, still.
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Restore John Ford!

Sunday, May 24, 2015

That River In Egypt...


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I stood outside with many, there were twenty-five or so, on a Sunday evening flying model planes. Some were gas but few were flying, and were muffled when they were, it was rubber models folks would fly, for time.
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Pastoral was the evening—no alcohol or drugs, the gentlest breeze was blowing; it was silent as a slug. The ladies fixed the finger food while the old men flew their dreams; the sky that blue and crystal clear... so sharp it leaped and gleamed.
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I see it (I'm a watcher), but I do not jump or shout—I nudge my nephew Mason. "Hey there, Mace ... what's that about"?
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He looks... his mouth falls open, and he nudges at his Mom, who gets right up, and takes a step, to see it closer, Tom.
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It's flying slow, too slow my guess, to be a jet or plane... It floats along, majestically, confusing watching brains... ...Like a BB held at arm's length, but squash it flat—bright white... It coasted by "cigar like" ...and then drifted out of sight!
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There was general amazement! There was, "...What the hell was that"!?! No one mentioned UFOs... I was silent as a cat. Someone mentioned—"Aircraft"!  Others offered, "Blimp." I down-lowed to my nephew, "That's facetious, scared, and limp."
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The *thing* flew by again, my friend, for the second time of FIVE, and fewer people watched it—it is that I would confide. The third time fewer still looked up to wonder what it was; the forth was even less than that—the fifth, just me... ...because...
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Call them up!  Ask their opinions of the ones who would not look.  I doubt that they'd remember, for their peace of mind it took.  It reminded them that models are contrived to paint the sky with things WE built to fly up there... not what "ET" would devise!
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The craft that flew that fateful day they did not glue together... ...They didn't sand the fuselage or craft it light as feathers. They did not spin the prop they bought with rubber they controlled; they could not point out proudly their invention to extol...
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...This denial that we face is like a pustule near to bursting, and the cause of its neglect we should decry. Those who push away this truth to save a precious "profit motive" we should vilify—regretfully despise.  These would only serve themselves nor have respect for you, content to lighting fossil farts, the time made ripe for coup.
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This pustule skin is very close to breaking on its own, and the skin of it is hot and tight and dry. Any little touch could have it blow up in our faces, but I'd like to clean it out—at least... I think that we should try...




June 28, 1996 at around 18:00 PST... on a sanctioned model airplane flying field outside of Anderson, California.  UFOs were witnessed by a veritable throng of credible persons...

I remember a subsequent time of around midnight sitting in a lawn chair on the active runway of that field.  I was looking to the North, impatient for sightings of more UFOs.  The constellation Cassiopeia lay aback, lounging on the horizon arms and legs akimbo for a salacious "W" shape.  Size seemingly increasing close to the horizon, she looked huge!  The field is found at 40 degrees 25 minutes 26.02 seconds North by 122 degrees 10 minutes 07.69 seconds West.  It is remote.  Perfect desert-like night sky.  Google Earth it.  
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It was on this field earlier that a collection of sober professional people—plus a few real scientists—pushed wonder away and fixed their attentions on their own, more familiar, articles.  You can't call it cowardice, quite... more a protective pragmatism.  How does one propose to know an unknowable and then roll their socks the same way?
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Too, they had forgotten that the simple balsa planes they held in their trembling hands would be perceived as a similar magic not all that far into their own, comparatively recent, past.
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...Maybe Tommy Lee Jones was dead on right all the time. In conversation with Will Smith as an aside in MIB I, he said, "They... [meaning you and me] ...don't want to know [about extra terrestrials]."
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Well, even if "K" crapped out to the conventional sensibility of facilitated denial , Zed and Jay didn't mind knowing—WANTED to know, needed to know as a matter of fact!  They walked away blithely from "normality" and "normalcy" to know as much as they could!
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Reader, don't YOU want to know?
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I do, assuredly, and only because my feeling is that it will be an improvement, a stick in the eye of the 1%er, and the elevation, enhancement, and enlightenment of an efficacious humanity.  Such is my intuition.

Friday, May 22, 2015

New York's Suffolk County...SPITEFUL—BLIGHTED!


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Is it now, at last, resolved: the tribulations Powell evolved? Or is that battle over—lost? Is Ford bullied, bowed, and crossed? Wait.. did three men, in TRUTH, contrive... to murder Powell as Powell described? Though... for what purpose; what was gained? Where were "risk's" "rewards" "obtained"?
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Then did Ford plead "mental health," admitting he, in fact, used stealth... ...to "plot a killing" with some "others"—he had met—"the stupid brothers"? Did he get the "isotope" and try to kill (like one fine dope!), with cancer as his murder weapon? Can he be that daft? It happens... ...Though, smarter money bet as such would lose that bet; I'd bet that much.
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Suffolk County says "he's guilty," forgetting Suffolk County's filthy—lost in clearly wicked schemes beyond the scope of John Ford's dreams. It's been such for many years; it reeks corruption, still; that's clear.
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Ford is ONE against the many. Puppets, then, condemned him plenty. To this day he's ridiculed... as a futile—facile—fool! Short and portly, described as Fudd-like, he's disgraced because he looked like... every fat kid *earning* torment in a world which LOVES conformists.
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Though he got strident, and litigious—in your face ... perhaps obstreperous. He could make an enemy, and that's a fact too plain to see. What he's not, by all accounts, was a danger to himself (you louts!), or any other living thing what slinks or crawls—some human beings!
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I can't believe these smirking cretins, noses running, dripping—leaking... sneering up their soggy sleeves their *judgements* (so much gas!) they squeeze. Quick to simply go along with ROT that Suffolk County's thrown, they'd *wish* away "anomaly," so bogus their *reality*.
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Suffolk County's FAR from righteous! I argue that it's SPITEFULBLIGHTED! Too quick to take the "shady" road and filled with thugs who lurk like toads.
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His critics, somewhat less than balanced, offer unjust SCORN on balance. They would caper at the fire as they burned him—sick desire!
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Taking glee in Ford's misfortune, laughing how he's lost a fortune, they're delighted as they crow their heartless songs... ...which suck and blow.
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What can cause such fulsome hatred? What's he threatened that's so sacred? What worshiped steer will quake in fear as our John Ford comes snooping near?
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John Powell's involved in kick-back schemes which filled his pocket, so it seems! Perhaps he couldn't bear inspection; perhaps "too much" foretold detection; perhaps, in FACT, a UFO came down inside that park. Who knows?
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Who's to say in times like these (that knocks us to our bleeding knees!) we're forced to pray in mossy cloisters, sans all sense and smarts—or choices!!!
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Why... I would live in belts we'd made of asteroids; I'd work and play. I would have my livelihood... depend on ink my pen makes good.
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But, I would live a real deal beyond what some define as *real*, finding all my satisfaction... minus harmful, harsh distraction... knowing all the secrets there, and sweeping all those corners bare!
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I would have the prisons "emptier"—then refilled with cops and preachers! All those cops performing graft, plus those who know it—ALL the rest! All the preachers *shaving* souls, and lining pockets (this you know!), plus the ones who witnessed this (but dummied up), yes! ...ON this list!
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Pardon small hyperbole, poetic license sets me free! Not confined to raw tradition, I can trace with some precision that which jerks your chain the best. I slap some paint—it STICKS? You bet!
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I don't "know" that Ford was wronged, but I suspect it clear and strong. Check the spoor of government; it engineers our detriment!
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I don't know if he is crazy—some who ARE have "INTEREST", plainly. That they're more mental than John Ford should strike, in us, unsettling chords!
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I don't CARE that he was forward, or talked like Daffy Duck—was awkward. John Ford had a lion's heart to give John Powell his fits and starts!
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I don't CARE he stepped on toes, or threatened Powell—was up his nose! This is what we all can do if—with Ford's courage—we're imbued!
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I don't CARE that I'M derided for positions I've decided have more logic THAN those held... by piss-wits who can go to hell!
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Those who wish poor John Ford ill are filled with malice, ire and swill. They can chew the bitter root; their ample asses wear my boot. ...In fact; shove it where the sun won't shine! See? Ford's confined by Suffolk's swine!


alienview@roadrunner.com
http://www.alienview.net/




RESTORE! JOHN! FORD!

Heavy freaking sigh!

Restore John Ford!