Fare For Vultures.

The skies above me flash with light that most won't see too filled with fright.

See? Listening to some skeptibunky they submit ... become its flunky. Wallowing their crass denial, they avoid their test and trial. These abstain, avoiding grace and satisfaction sans distaste.

Yes, sold the "bill of goods" we need to live our lives on callused knees, we take the word of those we know will keep us safe and warm, you know? We dismiss imagination, refuse a valid protestation, and depend upon *convenient* culture. Our dreams become mere fare for vultures.

There is more to life, I KNOW, that wheels, darts, and hotly glows... beyond the limit some impose — to keep their high ground, don't you know.

This —perceived by many thousands, spans those years which number thousands— left its traces on the ground and on some film that I have found.

It's chiseled into ageless stone! It's evidence we're not alone! It's PROOF denied by churlish scholars addicted to more churlish dollars ... proof retreating with our pride... in fulsome shame of things denied.

We won't hear the real story, so we can't earn our stab at glory! We're denied the human right informed consent provides, I write! With mad heads shoved, so hard, between —our flaccid cheeks— we're tres obscene.

Too, we've been *WARNED* what would occur if folks were *shocked*, *upset* — *disturbed*!
"Wanton panic would ensue, mass suicide — we come unglued! Riot's in the streets occurring, markets crashing, cultures lurching — institutions are devolved, and chaos rules! We are dissolved... —*—"

Cities razed in mass confusion, darkness claiming harsh intrusions, mobs of people looting, stealing, shocked, assaulted — senses reeling? Culture's web must come apart? Hell bound in a shopping cart?

Too, we'd DESERVE that awful harvest, sowing as we had, in earnest, feckless seeds marooned in space, that we're the pointless "washed up" race!

Though, there's no proof that must occur, and much more proof we could detour'!

Remember, then, the middle ages. Turn way back — historic pages!

Think back, quickly, to a time..., and stuff of legends filled our minds! Hearing *stories* of new races, critters FOREIGN, no relation? It's just like now, that other time. Did WE "freak out" and lose our minds?

Did western culture fall to ruin? No, it didn't. Something's brewing.

Too, please don't think me over-callous, too filled with venom, spite, or malice, but the FEW who freak that way, and lose their minds to chaos, say —kill themselves or worse— ... unblinking... good RIDDANCE to their blood, I'm thinking! Subtract them from the gene pool, cousin! They're not worth bemoaning — fussing!

Any culture comes apart, if folks from space are found? Be smart! It DESERVES to "crash on down" and crumble on that fresh new ground! If we're unhinged by real beings apart from us in space — some thing? Well, we betray intelligence, artistry, and common sense. We deserve a crass demise, bereft of tears, I would surmise.

...Makes you wonder who hangs ON to well worn ways no longer sound. Who hangs on to their pollutions — glad corrupted institutions?

Why, those, the few, professing doom! Those, who forecast shadowed gloom! Those, the ones, the few who lose, when truth is offered unconfused. And too, myself, my culture's child, aware of such so slightly wild, provoked in turn to bite the hand would feed such failure to this man!

Majorities would profit grandly I've a feeling, some understanding. Read between the lines, yourself, and lead yourself to better health.

alienview@roadrunner.com
www.AlienView.net


Perhaps I didn't make this clear — if our culture implodes on an admission of the actuality of an extraterrestrial intelligence, it flatly DESERVES to implode. I've a suspicion that this *admission* could have been made around 1947 —the year before I was born­— and the *implosion* would, now, be well behind us.

...We'd also be living in the asteroid belt closer to utopia, I suspect, and our respected Earth would be a garden — but you knew I was going to say that. No apologies. That's my feeling.

Additionally, don't use Orson Well's "War of the Worlds" broadcast to feather your whiny, skepti-feebroid, and nay-saying bed. That 1930's broadcast was inadvertently HAND TOOLED to incite panic, and the reaction of the people to it was no different than a genuine broadcast informing its listeners that the *Red Chinese* (say) had landed in a small American town and were killing and pillaging an actual hapless citizenry. Would culture implode as a result of an incursion by the red Chinese? Well, If it did? It would deserve to implode. Good riddance.

Consider, the rather minimal panic which ensued was a provoked lawlessness to procure the means to resist and survive. Pretty freaking healthy from a biological and psychological standpoint. Under the circumstances of a suspected attack from beyond space and time? I submit that we performed passably well! Very well indeed, actually.

Remember, minimal DEATHS occurred in THAT regrettably misunderstood debacle, and FEWER suicides.

Finally, we all accept that we are at our best when conditions are at their most trying... conversely at our worst with conditions at their best — let's move on into the truth ... though the heavens fall! If they do fall, we'll make better heavens. Verily, Brookings can bite me.

Restore John Ford!

[You knew I was going to say that, too.]

...No One Home...

Nothing is happening, has happened, or will, and little precludes us from climbing our *hill* — as the *field* is level on which we would play, and a loss on its surface is righteous and plain.

Our government's moral and shoots a straight line; our churches the ticket to heaven sublime, while we have pro sport for the truth that it brings as our *balls* charge about on a throw or a swing.

We've *rules* we've emplaced, and they're justified too. They cut the same way for the rich and poor, true.

Too, we are a people who don't get confused — "tough love" for our brothers and sisters abused.

We are best served by police institutions, enforcement of law is a quick execution, and science becomes us —so noble it glistens— while trust is respected by crisp inquisitions.

The rich don't get richer, they earn what they'd take! And nothing is hidden, abstruse, or been faked! The claims of the fringe raise a frivolous fuss — no proof of "conspiracy's" "abuses of trust"!

All is as well as is well as can be... and the truth of this fact is what we, in fact, see! We're upright and moral and clear in our eye, and we're fair — evenhanded, up front... and don't lie!

Conspiracy's ground from the shells of its nuts! Liberals quibble then prove they've no guts! Your water is clean and the air to be breathed is as free of pollution as it's free of disease.

The Earth is not warming to threaten our poles. The hole in the ozone is blown from ones nose! Virgin forests remain to be used in due course, the Bible has promised! Earth's a resource.

UFO's fabled, or seen to this day would have natural causes explained well away, and exploited for gain by mere thieves from the fringe — these prey on the gullible and drive them unhinged! This stands as a symbol for weakness —in kind— as a loss of ones sanity or ones rational mind! These claims are ALL bogus and shan't stand the scrutiny which hastens condition to lead this cult's mutiny!

We are ALONE in an aggregate sense! We're not detected — and "ETs" are nonsense. WE stand apart from the natural sphere; this MARKS our dominion to prosecute queers!

See? We are the jewel in this crown of creation. None have achieved all the glory we're paid. We can depend on ourselves and God's mission to keep us on courses for which we were MADE!

We have rejected mad gods and their devils. We know a God that is loving and grateful. We are a race with a strong healthy visage, and we are best served with a God in our image.

We have a *true* faith unblemished and sane, and it's made from a cloth we MUST sing in refrain! Intolerance serves us (to keep our strain pure), and our ethics condone it — of that we are SURE. It's our faith and our trust in our Fathers (inured) that our mores reflect what a man does is — pure!

We have been BLAMELESS, and we have been FAIR. We've been COURAGEOUS! What's true is declared! Too, we had the vision, the talent, and drive to wrest from cruel nature what allows us to thrive!

We are the champions! There's naught before us! We *earn* what we take, and so take it we must... as our clocks do the ticking for us all alone; there's no one else out there; there's no one else — home.

alienview@roadrunner.com
www.AlienView.net



If you believe any part of the preceding I have some choice plots on the *dark* side of the moon I'd like to interest you in ...

But seriously, truer than not (?) ... everything we *know* is wrong — mistaken, misunderstood, misguided ... imprudent, erroneous, injudicious, incorrect, or wrongly perceived. My poem is a sardonic portrait of the opposition's self-involved prosecution of their very real sociopathy.

Currently, fueled by a hubris as bloated as it is unfounded, too many —too quickly made— assumptions conveniently precipitate to elitist impiety, intellectual impotence, and ethical impropriety. Then comes arrogance, self-importance, and a huge destructive conceit. Next thing you know?

Lying to oneself becomes deriguerre and the order of the day. Satisfactions based on such become harder and harder to achieve and despair becomes the only condition celebrated.

Consider, *S*cientists lately bestow a current wisdom that, but for a propitiously convenient moon, the Earth would stumble around on its axis like a fat drunken friar. This is to suggest another "reason" for our rarity in the universe — another inflating variable one must add to the Drake equation to push even the idea of ET —the obvious and ubiquitous other— further and further away.

If the case in fact then, should there not be evidence for similar rotational frivolities from the planets Venus and Mars? These are, indeed, two easily observable planetary examples which lack such a stabilizing moon as ours!

They are either tumbling or they are not, so do try to keep an undeserved and self-revealing sneer out of any answers, can't you, you scientisticly (sic) scabrous skeptibunky swine? No, not name-calling, booby! Assessment!

To those trifling persons pretending they "don't get it" so as to buffer, imo, their cowardly facade —or pretense— of confident rationality? All appropriate respect to you. It remains, sadly, the practitioners of my sardonic poem above — a poem describing evil in its most duplicitous and misleading form — can just piss off.

Regarding claims concerning my accused dearth of clarity. Actually, I'm clear as crystal while still remaining remotely civil. Moreover, my civility is an affectation I find increasingly more difficult to extend into the ufological debate, eh? See, even as I indicate my contention that you just go to hell, I'd aspire to an explication such that you also enjoy the trip.

It remains, presently, I don't have any reflex respect for nor will I easily validate your presumptively duplicitous, I suspect inherently mendacious, and ironically regressive paradigm; a rabid mindset filling me with a revulsion so profound I'd rather give Dick Cheney a tongue bath than suffer its least noxious imposition or weaseling meme. I trust this was clear enough? Everybody get that? DE? DB?

Don't humiliate yourself going all "wide-eyed" and "concerned" wondering "where the anger comes from" or why there has to be such drama! Such passion! It is because, good sir or madam, you choose to ask that very mocking question or express just that phony concern!

See, in the asking you prove you've had your head buried up your ass so far and for so long that you —or the best parts of you— have likely already expired in suffocation. You sneer?

I sneer in turn. Your faith is not superior to mine. Your mores no more refined. Your ethics hold no higher moral ground. Your morality is no more righteous than my own. Frankly?

I perceive my faith immanently superior, mores vastly more refined, ethics comparatively higher-grounded, with morality decidedly more righteous that my leadership's, my society's, any institution's, corporate body's, agency's — my whole culture's when it comes to it.

I am an individual who did what he said he was going to do, who stood tall when called to crisis, who stood against that which required its opposition when it was dangerous to do so. I look at the governing and leadership bodies aforementioned and assess them by the same rubric with which they would assess me. I find them wanting at best — criminal at worst.

Show me your government, your institution, your corporatism, your agency, your bureaucracy — your church... and I'll show you a collection of sorry psychopathic entities, in the aggregate, which are unflatteringly assessed by the fruit that they produce, only. Verily, the good that they do interred with bones, as the evil they do lives on and on. Moreover, these entities betray the aspirations of the past even as they betray the trust of persons in present day. Insult added to injury? These clear criminals will skate clear of recrimination — seemingly above the law.

That's just not to be tolerated.

What to do then? I must have an answer, eh? All this whining and complaining must have some kind of alternative "Dodge-cleaning" apparatus, putting these iterated problems to rest straight away — a way to expiate the anger and drama. Right?

"Cosi-Cosa," pilgrim!

Moreover, I don't have to have written the entire score to criticize same, especially when the only one dancing is Dolores Umbridge — Argus Filch's sweaty and accommodating paw on her blubbery ass. Though, I'll certainly contribute humbly to the thinking on a new melody. Too, respect reflexively denied shall be pulled from the niggardly marrow of the offender's literary bones.

Sorry not, I prefer Mozart to banging trashcan lids and won't succumb to the dictates or prerogatives of a Western-biased world view. I won't bow to its self-serving logic, its inappropriate arrogance, and its exclusively Cartesian artlessness — without a fight! Rather, I'll hoist the black flag as appropriate, board hubristic ships, and cut the obligatory begging throat as I must with nothing for which I should be remotely sorry. "Dexter" in the literary flesh. No apologies, it seems to be the muse dictated task at hand, if fate assigned.

More warning than ever given me; buckle in. Prosecutors of the poem above, gird your flaccid loins.

Likely Crime

I'm just ONE voice, in this crowd, and though I've listened hard (...out loud!) ...beneath contempt these petty men, who'd counsel we're *alone*, my friend!

I have listened to these *learned*, read their work —excelled in college— and they do NAUGHT but leave deep holes ... stunted thinking ... shallow souls.

These pretend reality, dismiss the facts that won't agree, and counterfeiting history, just sell their old hypocrisy!

I look into a starry sky and see potential, depth and time. I realize that there's enough —of all the truly needed stuff— to sail passed imagination, leaping ANY protestation!

More than we believe we've sailed... forbidden fictions, legends -- tales... has happened in those stellar reaches ... there to torment, stress, but teach us!

Lost in time and dusty space could live the creatures of some race who'd solved the problems that we face or vanished there without a trace...

We'd believe *they* CAN'T be here, assigning them our limits, fears; pretending that they shan't surpass achievements reached by human craft?

Yes, we pronounce imagined *laws* and tell them where their line is drawn! Squirty guffaws messing pants at such presumptuous arrogance!

We pronounce our *flawless* physics airily like fools not "with it." We ignore new paradigms if they don't fit tradition's rhymes, and we don't care to spend the time to do REAL work — a likely crime.

We're a bunch of sad pretenders, charlatans and glad offenders living in a noxious past which gloats obscenely, failing tasks! No one finds the facts they need all mixed with misdirection's feed, which keeps their status quo alive so they can *live* while WE survive.

Hear them tell you "no free lunch" propounding concepts you can't crunch. Complacent, they're a feckless bunch; plus they're unbrave. That's more than hunch.

Something's hidden well, inside, and wrapped within a gauze of lies, and we can't put our finger ON our *strange* discomfort — though clear and strong. We're tied or mated to our fear in ways to make control more *clear*, and so won't question "pretty lies" that weave their phony web — disguised.

We are wives and husbands — children ... mothers, fathers, other brethren ... needing forecasts we can trust to plan a future as we must!

We would have things solid, useful, realistic, substantial -- truthful!

We'll grow tired of your usual, grow cynical -- then resentful! Riots in the streets, at last, when we discover what's gone past! That time just may be coming fast, when you're* the one confused — harassed!

I don't have the "facts", I'm told, by churlish goons and shallow scolds. I'm the liar, I'm accused, when I would point where we're abused, or offer that we can't get *facts* from cyber-thugs who grind an axe!

Something not admitted slinks behind facades of fishy-stinks! Yes, it would change the way we feel to know, at last, what's true and real! Someone knows the real deal, will take what they can grab and steal, and make their judgement (if unreal!) as to, then, how YOU should feel.

I'm standing here, my leg is damp; you're saying that it's *raining*, champ!

Trouble is, I heard your zipper, hear the smirk and see your whisper, smell ammonia, (used asparagus?) -- you should drink more water. Careless!

I can't believe what you propose; it's blown from Aristotle's hose — that saucers shan't command our skies, that time and space won't prove you* lie, that we are hidden, unobserved, so quite alone, and "undisturbed."

I don't believe your mechanisms, I don't go in for your religion, I don't *buy* your evening news, or think that cops should never lose.

You have earned my piqued disgust. It grows as you provoke mistrust. Insult (try!) provokes me further, infuriates —increases ardor— and I, at last, regard our sky ... those tiny points of light described, feel space —a living thing— and know you* for the crap you sling!

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


A likely crime like I said. A conspiracy is always criminal. There is always a "victim" victimized. You, reader!

I look up and hear Mozart and Beethoven. The Status Quo offers an assumptive monotone of "How Much is that Doggie in the Window." One can understand why I might be askance and akimbo in the offered's regard, eh? Bitten and shy, eh? Building Seven.

Thanks, but ... I'll just keep looking up, out, and in.

Oh, and ... *you know who you are.

Restore John Ford!

Agenda's Bitter Pills

Though, some have agendas, would do as they will, and will give of themselves like they like bitter pills, I hear a drum in the distance, most times, and would march to the beat of that faraway rhyme.

Too, I'm hearing dirges of sad tortured souls -- so many by far on cruel rocks and harsh shoals! Smashed by our cowardice, dashed on its stones, bashed to oblivion, they're rejected -- alone!

They say they're abducted... by *persons* unknown -- invaded, dissected, abused they disclose! Then, treated with ridicule, and dismissed as "fringe stuff" they're shoved to the rear, so they don't get enough.

"Enough of what, pray?" -- the 'Bunkie will sneer, as it wallows its ignorance and fondles its fear. Why, honest attention and a lack of contempt that is much too reflexive -- bereft any sense!

There are too many people affected by this to casually dismiss with a wave and a kiss! Though this is the mindset of mainstreams, who try, to trivialize that which is impacting lives!

They DO the same thing with the other big issues -- the rape of our planet ... that they don't fill their shoes! That they DON'T cop to truth plainly glaring disgust; it's plain (as a nose!) they're abusing our trust!

Quality people have pondered these questions, suggesting invasion (!) or strange infestation (!!), but *mainstreams* will wallow the "party-line creep" -- would sell us their lullaby's aberrant sleep!

Too! "Researchers", "debunkers," and "skeptics" agree to opinions they have that they're comfy with, see? They're grasping at straw, or whatever they'd find... to prop up small egos as bound as confined!

I know folks, myself, and they're salt of the Earth! They're community pillars for what THAT is worth, but others demean them with judgment and label, dismiss them, too quickly, as fiction or fable!

They'd nothing to gain, had so MUCH to lose. They've been harried and tortured, abused and confused! Ignored and dismissed or rejected, they fear ... that they're crazy (or worse!), though what's worse is right here!

And YES (!) we are a symbol of where we're amiss, where WE lack control of our destiny missed!

WE would evade our great chance to show courage -- to wallow in ignorance, misled and discouraged? We'd be supporters of that which confines? We're our own product of terror contrived?

No, we'd opt for bravery and spit in the eye of whatever confines us for reasons despised!

See? "We're not alone (!)", say the millions of persons in studies conducted or in polls that we've had. "We're not alone (!)," say the suffering people affected by terror -- who are feeling quite mad!

"We're not alone (!)", is the message of history. "We're not alone (!)",
as the evidence says! "We're not alone (!)", but embracing our cowardice -- pretending a solitude that we shan't possess!

Something's occurring that hides in the shadows; something's occurring that they won't admit. Something's occurring that opens the floodgates for interesting futures, and we'd best equip!

*Something* is touching, just, too many lives -- I know some myself, and they're wrongly despised. They're WRONGLY mistrusted, and WRONGLY suspected. They're telling a truth as they see it! Respect it!

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


...Takes GUTS to stare this anomalously glaring beast into its furtive and misshapen little eyes. Then!

Then the alien conjectured remains to be considered. That's right. Only then. It's ourselves we have to first stare down.

See, initially we have to take care of the beams in our own eyes before we can worry with regard to motes... motes we likely lack capability to understand presently... motes in the eyes of *others* -- those conjectured *others* being so much farther down the future's path we both travel. The beast is first, us.

We are the enemy that must be defeated -- our arrogance, our hubris, our pride, our impertinence, our cowardice, our faithlessness, our intolerance, our tyranny... well, we risk tediousness to go on, eh? Though we could.

Though, seems select persons may still have a significant ration of the guts aforementioned, and the "status quo" submits to a needed tune-up, the result? I suspect so. I should hope so. I feel it is so. Remains, it is the knowing.

Restore John Ford.

...On Dumbledore

Love. Our dearest tragedy. It is cherished or abused. One makes it; it is all we have! Love is hard to disabuse. After many billions of our years, it's life has sequenced out... at long, long last, we've come to find... the Love we care about.


See, it's carved in stone with bleeding knives; Love's dancing on the wind. Love makes a burden easier, or it adds to it, my friend. Though portrayed in tastes and flavors that may dance upon the tongue, Love fills a mouth with ashes if a heart is torn and flung.

Love gleams in different colors that we break up into grades. Love's crimson, white, or golden; Love endures, or dulls and fades.

They call the crimson "carnal." It's the marrow in your bones; if white, it's known as "philos" — it's a cleaner octane, Holmes; If golden, it's "agape" — the highest form of Love. It's selfless and it's perfect — and the rarest (push to shove).

It takes all three to make us whole — to make us more complete... ...but we would judge Love's value, and would qualify Love's reach! Oh, this is where we HUGELY err! We dictate and pronounce. We ridicule, demean, and shame. We disqualify — denounce!

We'd prohibit and we'd cancel, we would legislate our drives. We'd complicate the issue. We'd produce our sad despised!

We *append* to sex and preference "connotation" gone awry — and contrive a lesser value like we *knew* the reason why! Well, we don't know, though we'd presume the "wisdoms of convention," and cause a person torment based on cant or crass invention.

Now I don't write with scented inks. I'm just not wired that way. I'm making no apology, but showing distance, Dave! See, I have listed those I've met in decade's factor-five — perceive they're not the problem; they're a blessing — that's no jive.

They're not all gay — our movie stars, our poets and our clowns, our musicians and our artists, and our dancers of renown. They're not ALL gay — philanthropists, philosophers, or mimes — our nurses tending selflessly, some sports folk of our times. They're not all gay — our stylists who decorate the day, or work out all the detail in a layout they have made.

But where's the twin admission that would keep us most contented? That here they are the lion's share, and so OVER represented!

I think of all the people with an impact on my life, and find so many "gay blades" who have qualified my pride. These are teachers, artists, leaders, and some friends I, too late, made. They are pilots, soldiers, warriors — it's to them my pride is paid!

Near the end of my existence, when the dues are finally in, I owe a little gratitude — a little loyalty, my friend. I wished I'd spoke up sooner, so that you'd have had more VOICE. I regret that I belittled you when I thought you had some "choice."

If a few of these professionals are, in fact (heh!), proudly gay, then a better class of people swells the ranks of them, I'd say! It's there — seems more intelligence. It's there — seems greater style — seems more imagination, more artistry and smiles...

It's there, there seems more gracefulness, and (Yes!) that rarest kind of Love. It's there, there are more butterflies, more humming birds — more doves? It's THERE a valued world turns, the one that should be made... as hearts are opened up to find some bills remain unpaid!

If true, no condemnation — no indictment is returned. If true there is no reason to assign some blame or spurn. If true (?), yes, CELEBRATION there's your tendency to share! You have eclectic talents I appreciate, mon frère.

I see your contribution. I acknowledge right to *be*. I make no value judgment; I just want you free as me.


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

My credulity still stunned, I've endured ominous silence.

Still, I'd rather embrace choice, tolerance (diversity as an intellectual force multiplier), and love, in all its shades and grades — forgetting for a moment that its PROHIBITION —biblical or otherwise— and foundationless persecution are so much specious nonsense. Gay mote, I don't just tolerate your existence, I celebrate it. Your contribution seems to far, far outweigh your "errant" so-called detriment, and has always done so. Sincerely, live, do, and be.

Bigotry, gladly, force-multiplies ignorance; ignorance fosters its own lack of consequence; a silence on same must provoke an irrelevance; consequently, I'm drawn to significant diffidence.

Get used to it.

Restore John Ford.