Tuesday, December 20, 2005

...The Kingdom At Hand...


How placid was that gentle wave that washed the globe for hours ... that *wave* of year two thousand so foreboding, strained, and dour. The "Sturm and Drang", of gnashing teeth was the prophesy foretold, but all I saw was calmness, and the will to be more bold.

All I saw was calm sobriety, and a tranquil thoughtfulness. All I heard was making music in a world on its quest. All I smelled were leaves of winter as they lay upon the ground, a reminder that they'd come again as spring should slide around...

And spring WOULD come when we were strong, and blessed with all our health, and we might learn to see, at last, BEYOND -- to REAL wealth.

The time is now; the world's HERE -- has yet to self-destruct! The future is awakening! We make our OWN good luck!

We take a breath (our blessings counted), and begin to see what's there ... find the 'others' standing hopelessly beyond concern or care. And these, the sad rejected, are not brought in on the dream... ...that so few can take for granted (if they filter out the screams).

It's these must be *involved* somehow ... if we're to seize our day; if we're to have a grand success ... "soar and cleave" or "feet of clay".

The kingdom is at hand, my friend. We grasp it, or we don't. It's right there for the taking; if we don't -- we ape the dolt.

Science is a blessing if one *really* follows data, and one cops to implication's larger views. If you know the trust for people that will tell you what they saw (?) though they, still and all, have quite a bit to lose?

Folks like Jimmy Carter spring to mind for clearer reference, or Farrakhan all twisted in his rage; my brother and his wife have equal weight and they're more real -- call it "anecdotal evidence" be brave.

I've boiled hours of *video* that I've seen to "twenty minutes" (give or take some eerie lying UFOs), and what there is remaining is beyond the strangest thing, and a *teaser* for a guy who wants to know.

And forgetting all the video, I've chanced to watch the sky, and I've seen peculiar lights that don't make sense. The mainstream won't go near it, what's *peculiar* is off limits; I'm provoked to get the news I get... ...from Rense.

I can't escape the shadows that extend from circumstance, and I can't evade the questions they propose. I can't avoid the lessons of the very, very old ... as what they knew, and when they knew it, they've disclosed.

They wrote it pretty plainly -- all the planets that we know. They left it in their records, stones, and seals. They named the belt of asteroids splitting Jupiter from Mars as the "bracelet for its star" -- the real deal. Neptune and Uranus were identified as twins, plus the greenness, or the blueness of their hues. It's right there in the record that is treated as mere myth... ...though it drips with all the references and clues.

. . . And this is just BEGINNING the historical account of a story that just will not go away! Written in these annals are descriptions of the puzzle... ...that if put together right? T'would seize the day!

They're woven in our culture, (why, they're selling what we buy!), but we do not know the *purpose* they suggest. It's like we have some "proctor" with assessments, checks, and tools, but I wonder how we're doing on its test?

One might as well conduct themselves with THIS attitude employed: an admission that they're here, and (yes) quite close. Why not? If they are *there*, as it's admitted (and the mainstream says it's so?), then why not up a "Bunky's" bulbous nose?

The future yawns before us like the matchless depth of space, and the end is not for us, as yet, to see. The potential for success (as huge as glaring/gloating failure?) is the treasure that is there for you and me.

Some will whistle up excuses how they "...knew it all along..." ... others wallow in their terror of defeat. Most will take a deep breath... and adapt to what it is ... quickly changing when they're thinking on their feet.

That's the mood that took the world as all the "numbers" moved? A hopeful contemplation -- optimistic? There WAS a placid calmness in that day that washed the world. The mood was *charged* (no tension!) -- and FANTASTIC!



We would be as gods -- is it yet time for another... unjust... destruction of our "Babel" by jealously hateful "gods"?

Friday, December 16, 2005

...Friends...



Thursday, December 15, 2005

"...Fool Me Twice..."





Tuesday, December 13, 2005

...The United States Constitution?





Veteran? Retired Military? Highly Decorated? Patriot? I've sworn more than a few oaths to this... ...piece of paper.

Bush - Constitution 'Just A Goddamned Piece Of Paper

'Spinning Attention Away From Bush 'Paper' Remark

It's About A Lot More Than A 'Piece Of Paper'

Sunday, December 11, 2005

...The Travail Of John Ford...


My first encounter with the plight of John Ford occurred around July 12, 1996. It was to become a turning point for me.

I was driving from Alabama to Florida to join my wife for a weekend vacation and a little celebration of our impending 23rd wedding anniversary. The drive was a pleasant one, on good roads, and I was roundly enjoying the trip!

Ahead of me was two days of good beer, some fun in the sun, and a cessation of college for the summer.  I'd returned to college, you see, after retiring from the military to get a teaching credential, which is a whole other sordid story... I was content at that moment, albeit.

While I drove I listened distractedly to some car radio. I wasn't really hearing the news or the announcer as I drove and was, in fact, just about to tune to a *hairier* spot on the radio dial... when, abruptly... the announcer used the expression "UFO."

That stopped my hand at the channel knob, eh?  I settled back into the car seat to listen. I have an interest in UFOs as does any rational person...

Anyway... The reporter shared, and I paraphrase, that some loopy UFO whack-job from Suffolk county, New York had been arrested and charged with conspiracy to commit murder... Murder in a new, new-age, and completely inexplicable way!

It seems this "crazy" person *purloined* a quantity of radium from some facility somewhere (Brookhaven I think), and his *astonishing* plan was to break into the victim's house... put powdered radium into the victim's toothpaste... and murder him as a result of radiation poisoning!...

Wait!  What?  Let's pause for a moment to let that sink in...

I remember thinking at the time that this incredibly hapless fellow must be one mondo-bionic dim-bulb of a ruminating snot-bubbler... (!) ...to try a stunt like that! How could this buffoonery, remotely, work?

Besides, wouldn't it take years to dispatch someone in this manner... if it worked at all, and what about the logistics of the act itself? Moreover, radium is hot stuff, easily detectable!

I'd think when the victim turned his lights off to retire for the night and wife or family noted that Dad's mouth glowed in the dark? Why... it might have meant something to someone!

Frankly, I found the whole episode too puzzling, too unlikely, and just plain dumb.

...Something about it just wasn't right, though, and curiosity's fuse got -lit-. I thought about it off and on all weekend, and I decided that when I returned to Enterprise after the vacation... I had to have more details in its regard. It was just too bleedin' stupid to believe!

It's coming up on ten years later, and I am saddened in the extreme regarding what I found out, almost from the beginning, that there is much, much more than meets the eye... ...with regard to the John Ford Affair... like it is, I suppose, with pretty much anything else... well, like it is with pretty much -everything- else... but I digress.

Right off the bat there were surprises...Consider... someone *unsettled* enough to put radium in someone else's toothpaste... must have some kind of *history* of aberrant behavior, wouldn't you think?

I mean, a guy like this just doesn't spring fully formed from the head of Zeus! There must be some kind of record or audit trail of deviancy... wouldn't that be fair?

But no -- there is no such record! In fact, the absolute and exact -opposite- is the case! John Ford was a model citizen, a court officer, and a holder of a college Master's degree. He was good to his mother, and though he has -yet- to marry, he'd dated and gotten close a couple of times; he's a normal guy!

He was a registered Republican (which he can be forgiven for...I suppose), but he's active in local politics (the point?), and he's even known to weep at the suffering of small animals. He'd regularly rescue stray dogs from the pound, by report. He volunteered selflessly during civic emergencies, for example...

The guy was a proverbial PILLAR! Also proverbially, anyone who's known him has said that it is simply *impossible* that he could be involved in a conspiracy to murder -anyone-... ...much less and -especially- someone as high profile as the intended victim, John Powell... the biggest wheel in the Suffolk County, New York political machine -- the biggest such *machine* in the country!

...Think, for a moment, about the *influence* of a political machine such as the one just described... think what it could impose, ...and -throughout- a slew of conflicted government departments and hip-shooting private agencies!...

Let -that- sink in a moment!

John Ford was something else, too. He was stubborn.

...For cause? He could get so far up your nose you could feel his boney knees on your septum, and he was prone to explore every inch of his constitutional *rights* -- to every corner of the ethical envelope, too! He was a retired court officer and had observed how a litigious Suffolk county worked. He wasn't a bone-head, he wasn't a dupe, and he wasn't a fool, but he -was- a *Boy Scout*, reader, and he thought the Constitution of the United States was a -living- document that actually -meant- something...

John was an honorable man -then- (as now, I'm betting), but if you disrespected him or discounted him you'd quickly hear about it. He knew how to make the system work... or so he thought! That system would turn on him like Sigorney Weaver's *Alien*... and cocoon him in ~fact~!

John Ford was something else, still. He was EASY to discount. He was EASY to marginalize. He was easy to discredit!

He was easy to destroy!

Subsequent smirking writers of obvious and uninformed ~bias~... would later portray him as a pathetic and ineffectual mook with failed political aspirations... a loser, a loser who lived with his Mom.

Prone to be portly, he looked a little like Elmer Fudd and ~that~ distinctive appearance was unfortunately accessorized (it's been said) with the voice of Daffy Duck... plus? He was interested in UFOs...

Subsequently, the poor guy was -roundly- painted for the fringe. Still -- he was tenacious, contentious, and certainly tendentious... he brooked no crap, reader!

John Ford may have been one -more- thing. He may have been "crazy." But if he was so afflicted, good listener... he was benignly and efficaciously so! Take it out of the equation of your consideration!

Moreover... and note ~this~... he was interested in what the truth was; he was knowledgeable and talented with regard to *ferreting* that truth out, and he knew how to organize the troops to chase a bear through the freakin' buckwheat! He was active in local government, remember; he ~understood~ about grassroots activism!

And... (and it's a big "and") it was not a preponderance of the persons around him, by any means, who thought he was remotely crazy... ...to begin with! Moreover, those *intrepid* and *discerning* persons thinking him a... pork-chop short of a mixed grill...?...assumed he must be crazy because he "believed in UFOs".

Hey! FLAG DOWN!!! So does Stanton Friedman! So does Edgar Mitchell! So do I, and, very likely... so do YOU, reader!

The question's begged when the listener's turn comes! I digress...

What was John Ford doing, really, when a couple of platoons of SWAT team showed up at his residence to arrest him for conspiracy to commit murder? Well, he was doing what he did best!

He was organizing the locals for a lawful exercise of their of their natural right to be INFORMED about what they are paying for (!!!)... and, he was doing some expert detective-work to facilitate that end! He was ~also~, and note this... ~feverishly~ investigating John Powell and Powell's complicity... ...regarding the strange behavior of the police, firemen, Parks & Sanitation and -other- government officials of Suffolk county, New York! ...Behavior peculiar in the extreme!

Ford was hot on the trail!

What was John Ford's root concern in all of this?

Well -- John Ford, no dummy remember, was sure that Suffolk County officials, and the titular -head- of those officials, John Powell, were all hip-deep in a *conspiracy*... to cover up the crash of an alien space craft near Moriches Bay on September 28 in 1989...

Now -- for any of you listeners out there smotherin' a giggle... remember that dozens of credible witness saw ~something~ highly strange transpire in and around the bay on that night, so those foundationless giggles (the listener might be muffling?)... can be retired with some shame!

Verily, and since 1982, the New York counties of Orange, Putnam, Rockland, Duchess and Westchester... were swamp-gassed with some 5,000 reports of large, boomerang-shaped... unidentified flying objects in the skies overhead... giggle if you still can... We'll wait and look down in embarrassment for you.

Anyway...In a completely lawful manner, with a minimum of "actionable eccentricity", and with some intelligent intensity and single-minded passion, John Ford -investigated- John Powell.

Well within the law, and with some vigor, the little guy tried to get the gotcha *goods* on the big guy. One can certainly begin to predict the eventual outcome of -this- David and Goliath story...

...Time warp...

When I was a child living in west Connecticut I used to hear my Dad tell his friends these stories, myths, and legends about the cess-pool of corruption that was Suffolk County, NY in the forties and fifties... Does the reader have any idea what the "quotient of corruption" is NOW... or in the 1989 to 1996 timeframe, specifically?

...Do you think it got any better, friends and fellow motes? Let me just cut to the curly short-hair chase, ladies and gentlemen!

John Powell was dirty as hell!
In 1999, and out of political favors apparently, Powell would be charged with (and plead no contest to !) Racketeering, Grand Theft, ... even Extortion! And that's just what they charged him on, folks ...you can bet it was the tip of the iceberg!

In the year 2000 he would be given the *minimum* sentence of twenty-three months in a *minimum* security country-club! With good behavior, you know like not being -caught- raping a fellow inmate... he would be out in 18 months...

John Ford, on the other hand has not drawn a free breath or seen the light of day since 1996...

Is anyone else seeing the connected dots in this picture? Let me help!

The truly intrepid John Ford was investigating a man, one John Powell, who could bear -no- investigation of -any- type!

John Ford likely scared the wild, blueberry HORSE-MUFFINS out of John Powell (...and what kind of mamma's-boy-loser can John Ford ~be~ ... if he can make a BIG fish in a BIG pond like John Powell sweat the hook!)!!

Is it a stretch to suppose that John Powell could have exercised a few tainted *muscles* of his vast political machine of graft and conspiracy... to... TORPEDO John Ford? Given the senseless facts of the case, John Ford's history, education and references... does the listener think it *remotely* possible that this is so?

Oh, it's so... I suspect, and just another iteration of the same old story we become more and more accustomed to in increasingly terrorized and tyrannical world... Goliath, friends and fellow motes, only loses in the Bible!

...And forget ~all~ about John Ford's assertions with regard to UFOs, which may or may not be dead on the money... ...If wrong in FACT, he is most assuredly abundantly correct in SPIRIT!

Yes, John Ford's ufological assertions may have ~been~ all wet! They REMAIN; however, beside the point ...only significant in that Ford's "belief" in them proved the case of his... trumped UP... "instability"... So he could be more handily cocooned and effectively silenced!

What's IMPORTANT remains to be that Ford was busily investigating a ~man~, a ~criminal~ man (The "Man" actually) with long ties to organized crime... ...and so a man who could bear no such investigation!

John ford is innocent, and he rots in prison for the convenience of an ongoing conspiracy and a criminal elite! Plain and simple!

Truly, Suffolk County owes John Ford more than they could ~ever~ pay. They owe him his pension, a home, his savings, his modest gun collection, all his memorabilia, all his lawyer's fees, and year after year after year of hard, hard time...

Time made ~all~ the more intolerable... in as much as he was very likely a complete -innocent-... for ALL of that time!

Ford's attorney, one John Rouse, has given every indication that the case against Ford is specious at best... and wholly contrived at worst!

The witnesses were suspect (...perhaps planted, or sold Ford out for reduced sentences committed in other crimes... I mean -nobody- knows went on in the corrupt machine!), the clinical evaluation determining that he was *insane* was almost certainly flawed, canted, or ignorantly uninformed, and the "B" movie circumstances surrounding Ford's ongoing torment... are too suspicious to be minimally credible... and are without DOUBT scurrilously fabricated!

John Ford deserves a re-look, a change of venue, or a hearing of some type to try to get some real justice done. The loss of Ford's freedom for the convenience of a craven convicted criminal is the symbolic loss of ~all~ our freedoms, a repudiation of everything that America is supposed to be, and a crime in its own right.

John Ford's civil rights and right to personal liberty have been violated in the most fundamental sense, folks, and we VALIDATE the arbitrary rule of *privileged* autocrats... to let John Ford's ongoing treatment continue...

This cannot be allowed to stand! Restore John Ford to his previous life, Suffolk County, now and with all deliberate speed!

As goes John so goes the reader... ...verily!

Read on!

Sunday, December 04, 2005

...UFOs Are Everything...

Thursday, December 01, 2005

...Good News -- Plus!


My dear Mother made the disclosure to the first INTERNET buddy calling me on the telephone. She did it out of concern and fear for what she knew was a sympathetic ear, but it was a disclosure none the less. I'd have soon we kept it to ourselves.

Why? Think about it... You wouldn't want your reader to have any excuses, any preconceived notions... ...and it's largely my business anyway. It's not like I'm an airline pilot or a neurosurgeon.

She didn't know. Otherwise distracted and alternatively absorbed? I didn't think to tell her not to. So, I won't remotely feel like she blabbed. Her heart was in the right place.

Yea and verily.

It remains that the news is out, though, so I'm going to turn it into a disclosure of my own, then ...and a good thing... ...a better thing. For reasons I'll go into, it's good news for you, reader, even as you might perceive that it's bad news for me. It's good news for me, though, too.

Seriously! I mean that.

Part of the new mammalian INTERNET consciousness combating the reptilian consciousness which precedes it? I'm compelled to make a full report... ...to you. It is good news, I'm confident, and I'm laughing in the pleasure of that news, sincerely, as I type these words.

There are some grateful tears mixed in with the laughter. I'm well pleased with that too. I'm extremely grateful that I still have the capacity for both...

Last Tuesday, about eight o'clock in the morning (and during some news report about the aggregate egregiousness our current US government had committed) I had a stroke...

Yeah... sincerely committed to the idea that I just may live forever? I had a stroke. Disjunct, dislocation, and disjointing distraction.

Not a bad one, and not one requiring me to bang this essay out with my forehead by any means... even as it's slowed me down ...but a stroke none the less. I'm left a little unsure on my feet, I'm making a lot more mistakes as I type... ...and I can't chord my guitar... but hey... it could have been a lot worse. A lot worse.

Oh, I had it coming. Thirty pounds overweight, no real regular exercise in the preceding decade, and wrapped a little too tight than is probably good for anybody? I'd been skating a little too close to the edge of the abyss. The bell tolled for... ...me.

I got a wake-up call, to cut to the chase. Moreover, the new mammalian consciousness I'd alluded to earlier can transfer and make it a wake-up call for you, too, if you choose. A freebie!

But outed? I owe it to you, reader, to start the alluded to transfer of information... apply the appropriately efficacious spin... tell a true story.

Be thankful that I've one to tell and remain here to tell it.

See, I'm not to be pitied, or eased up on, or considered infirm... I'm not to be immediately considered intellectually dotty, cognitively disrupted, emotionally disordered, or mentally disturbed. I'm still me, if a little slower version at present, and I flat won't tolerate reflexive sympathy or judgment. ...Won't own it. ...Won't stand for it.

Does the honored reader remember Rich Reynolds of the very specious "RRR Group" out of Fort Wayne, Indiana... ...from an INTERNET "yesteryear" of a few weeks past? He had a light stroke several months ago and I backed way off his case as a result, treated him with a toleration he did not deserve... ...extended to him idiosyncratic credit he did not earn. And, as an, I would suppose, predictable result of a pointed discussion on his ethics, credibility, and fair or balanced reporting of "character" subjects?

...He plunged an unearned blade of bogus but damaging manufacture deeply into my innocent back... ...right around kidney level... ...for my trouble. Even IF that "trouble" was sentient, serious, and sincere.

See? Mr. Reynolds died on the cross of whatever provoked concern, concerned anxiety, or needless apprehension you need feel for me, dear reader. The reader is better advised to feel about me... ...exactly as the reader felt about me before my, actually fortuitous, episode. Be silently ambivalent, wish me well, or ill? Then move on, with my thanks.

I'll eat your literary face for anything less, or more. Test me.

...Fortuitous episode? Yes. This is the good news.

You see, for the better part of two years I have co-written a series of information papers with longtime friend and fellow military retiree Alan Graham about diet, nutrition, and the aggregate disservice done to us by an American Medical health system and its ancillaries. Alan is the fellow who *cured* himself of the *incurable* ailment called Crohn's Disease, *hereditary* arthritis, and other diseases of the 20th Century... ...vastly improved my extremely ill mother's quality of life, and assisted many others (Jim Mortellaro [tormented with IBS] and his wife [stricken with MS] among them) to a quality of life they had thought gone from them forever. True stories all.

...Encouraging stories. Instructive stories. Stories of hope.

Like many of you reading? I thought I was one of those immune to the diseases of the 21st Century. Not so.

I have survived what amounts to my second "wake-up" warning... ...or, at least, that "wake-up" requiring a 911 call, an ambulance, and a subsequent hospitalization. The first episode? It was very brief, quickly recovered from, and a result of sleeping in a funny position, I thought. This happened about 5 weeks ago... ...about the time that Rich Reynolds was twisting his contrived knife in my back... ...hmm?

...I was just lying to myself. I knew what it was. I just willingly self-deceived. No more.

It's the third strike, after all, for which you have to walk (or be carried) away from the plate, and if I can't hit a home-run with my *efforts*, I'd at least like to get on *base*. I still intend to get a *hit*, reader.

That said, I'm at a bone dry 205 pounds (should be about 170, soaking wet), blood pressure averaging 170 over 110 or thereabouts (should be about 120 over 85), am unsteady on my feet if of sound mind, and I don't presently have the co-ordination to play my guitar. That is especially crushing.

The Medical People presently have me on Plavix (75 mg), a blood thinner (...the stuff that nearly killed my Mom...), and Norvasc (10 mg) for the high blood pressure (...say goodbye to Mr. Woodie...). I'll let you know the moment I can stop taking these truly vile medicaments...

I'm hoping I can report to you later that I've gotten my guitar playing ability back. I expect to make a full recovery, reader. A complete one. I aspire to be better than before.

Additionally, I hope I can give the reader more times at bat as a result of some small attention the reader pays to my evolving saga. What I intend to do is described very well at the indicated location, so I don't have to be tedious about it here in essay. The reader can go have a look as the reader wishes.

It's not required to pay attention or follow along in any way, of course. It's just that the new mammalian INTERNET I've referenced a couple of times now makes it possible for me to effortlessly share this good news. I shall, indeed, share. It's my duty, I suppose, forgetting I'd as soon have kept it to myself.

I've a system. I've a plan. I've hope. I've good people around who care about me. Good news like I said. For me and, as I said, for you too...

...But what does this have to do with UFOs? It's this.

When I was laying in the bed at the hospital Tuesday evening after midnight in the deepest dark of the blackest night I had ever known, even requiring help to pee, reader... I was compelled to wonder if this was not the end for me.

The end of love? The end of mobility? The end of the complete satisfaction I had taken for granted with regard to wife, family, friends, and my little pound puppy dog, Sheba? The abrupt end of a 1001 other pleasurable things?

Perhaps surprisingly? The loss of UFOs and the earnest consideration of their ancillaries figured closely after my concerns for the just iterated things... ...that I was being taken out of the game... ...you know?

I got released from the hospital late Wednesday morning. I was responding favorably to treatment and got a lot of mobility back as a result. After checking in with family and friends, still, my thoughts were on the night sky and its strange accoutrements.

Thursday morning came with the usual alarm at 02:30 hours, and I was, apparently, to be given another chance to stare, at least once again, into her matchless depths and deeper reaches. Truly, I lusted for that night sky... another gift I had taken for granted, I discovered. I won't make that mistake again.

At about 05:15 hours Central Time, with a temperature around 30 degrees Fahrenheit, I was looking to the west at the best Star-field I'd seen in quite a while. Winter always has the best skies...

The object appeared over the South South-West tree line, brighter than Venus, at about 50 degrees elevation, and preceded to travel Northerly at a rate of about 5 degrees in 15 seconds until it disappeared, also about 50 degrees elevation, in the tree line to the North! The sighting happened between 05:15 and 05: 20 hours, or thereabouts.

It traveled with such unvarying regularity and brightness that I took it for the Space Station or an especially bright satellite. Checking the NASA java application for satellite prediction; however, at http://science.nasa.gov/Realtime/JTrack/3D/JTrack3D.html and setting the application for ALL satellites and ALL passes... ...showed that there were NO satellites between 03:40 hours and 11:28 hours of any type or at any magnitude of brightness for my location, (ZIP code 36330).

A UFO, friends and neighbors! With any other name? It would smell as sweet.

I was well and truly served. Gladdened even. The reader may understand why... brushes with death always makes a person appreciate the smaller things.

I'll keep you posted?

Read on!