Monday, September 12, 2011

This Rock Called Home...

Humanity lacks all humility where we don't lack humanity....



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I have a mind, so I don't dream... the "saucers," then, that I have seen: what hovers in our night time skies as custom forces downcast eyes!  See, learning *blindness* early on—and taught, perhaps, that 'right' was 'wrong'?—I'm a-cringe beneath the 'lash' ... must 'hide' what I would touch or catch...
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Though true that folks 'refine' in 'struggle', we don't HAVE to bust all knuckles!  We aspire to "SOAR and CLEAVE!" We can COP! We can be free!
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...But we don't cop! Our science blind, it struts around too proud, contrived; pontificates it has the answers—falling short; now, there's your answer!
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..."Keep too many," "pick and choose"—"select from hungry multitudes" ... Those who 'cower' and 'obey' for crumbs of bread by which they're paid! Feed them rules to take on 'faith'; mislead that "faith moves mountains," Babe! 
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Make these fund your *costly* war against a sentient "less-is-more."  Be... "unaware" that we could save... the Earth, it seems, if we'd be brave; if, for a while, parent ONCE... or be exposed an errant dunce!
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Many persons "reach and scratch" for "grasp" they cannot "touch" or "catch." They're not safe, though shall not know it; few make good, too many blow it. See, these are not the "chosen people"—chosen by dark priests 'neath *steeples*... steeples built but to "survive," to further 'ends' their priests contrive...
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Existential's misconstrued; reality has come unglued!  See, it won't matter in the end... who had what... but what you'd been!  It won't matter who was rich, but where you were a hypocrite! Yes... we are folks who came to know the toxic fruits of thought control.
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Still, it's you combating entropy, and THAT'S YOUR VALUE, can't you see? You're the one contrives to know the universe's warp and flow. You complicate simplicities! You obviate the "heat death", see?
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And that's the ticket bothers *them*—like this restricts their choices, then! Folks get hungry, make "demands" (...demanding more respect!), and then—the white-bread world crumbles down, elitist folk start wearing frowns; they're losing wealth like webless spiders—grinning "justice" spreading wider!
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These obviate a party-line to keep, in place, ill loot confined! All that loot and all those towers keeping their sweet lives in power... swept by winds most never see with eyes cast down and from bruised knee...
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This is why they hide the saucers, drill more oil, or pump up "knockers." This is why they obfuscate, mourn "burned flags," or play on hate. This is why the 'right' holds sway to do its will and have its way. This is why we stay alone upon this rock we call our home!
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That's always been the work you'd do, but some preclude your value, true; so, you're bereft of time to think, to ask some questions—raise a stink! Ask them why they don't pay taxes ... ask them why our market crashes. Ask them why our children starve while dog's fat 'cats' get caviar. Ask them why we're not in space. Ask them to explain disgrace. Ask them why the goose's gravy ain't been like the gander's, lately.
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This is when we'll ask the questions moving us to new progressions! Then we'll search at long, long last the answered questions from the past... a tragedy of errant men who burned the truth confounding them, so served themselves in grievous ways impeding efficacious days.
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We aspire to soar and cleave from errant way's unjust "disease."  We deserve a richer life of satisfactions sans most strife.  The "kingdom" is at hand, you see; it's up to us, but off our knees, as what was once so far before... is now behind you if you "soar."
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I cleave the heavens and soar to the infinite.
And while I rise from my own globe to others
And penetrate ever further through the eternal field,
That which others saw from afar, I leave far behind me. 
 
-- GIORDANO BRUNO, burned at the stake for leaving far behind what others saw, still, far before them. 
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Restore John Ford!
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Sunday, September 04, 2011

Bug Eyed Monsters? ...Not So Bad!

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I must have ninety hours, now, of film on UFO's; not counting books and pictures—other persons that I know—and some would think me... immature... for my "consuming interest," but I can only point straight up, and indicate the endless.
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Sure, and I concede, again, that most of it is "crap"! Sure, I understand, again, that much of it is "cracked"! Sure, I will admit, again, there's little proof of contact, but less is more, I'll say again, and have the better contract!
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In ninety hours I have found, perhaps, ten minutes—most profound. These are scenes passed proffered "answers," offered up like new-wave dancers... Though, all they do ... just dodge and dazzle ... dis the "Major," chump Mack Brazel. Humiliate their kith and kin, cloud the issuethreaten them!
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I am NOT a dummy, friend. I've got eyes, a brain—my skin. I've seen them pulsing way up high, in morning, noon, and nighttime skies...
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I speak to folks I know with "crust." These are folks, quite sane, I trust. These maintain there's something shining... zipping, zooming, warping ... *flying*..., something unidentified... but still an object they can't hide.
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This is NOT a "UAP"! Phenomenon!? Get off your KNEES!  "Phenomena" shan't have to be there, but "objects" MUST, I would declare!
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Indeed, we see these "stranger" structures—entertain deranged conjectures. We have kept our heads at last—tied them down and made them fast!  See, leadership betrays our trust, and to that "void" attention's thrust.  They deny the frankly obvious, and that provokes the stark incredulous!
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See, something hides in star-stained skies. Something karmic strangely flies. Something lives beyond this Earth, beyond our garden, yard or hearth. Something lives by different rules ... propending weird... peculiar schools! "Someone" *watches* from the edge. Something new is on the *ledge*. Something keeps its "eyes" on us...  ...and should we show it love and trust?!
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We may as well, my sneering friend; it's Humans who've been nasty fiends! It's these with their obtuse agendas, to "them" you are dismissed minutia.  They'll cut you deep, and laugh out loud, then screw you for percentage, proud. And this to spite relationship, associa, clan, or kinsmanship!
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Put your faith in Bug Eyed Monsters, dripping slime from every pore, before you trust a mean humanity malfeasant and abhorred! No, don't worry over-much, my friend, your B.E.M.'s intentions. They're the least of all concerns; fear Humansmy contention!
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It's not the *vicious* space folk who've sold you cigarettes; not them who planned (in secret!) your addictions, you can bet! Not them... refined the nicotine to a teased up unbound state that's exploding in your brain, my friends, like white fanged, smoky snakes! Not them who hooked your children, not them who gave you strife, not them who took your money ... and then stole your blighted life. Not them to lie about it and then hire on "Ken Starr" to fight their heinous battles from a "well respected" bar...
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...Something lives far *out* there. I've ten minutes says it's true.  They happen sure as it's a fact ... it all comes down to you.  ...And I don't say a better deal awaits our lot with "them," but compare our present status... why, the best AND worst that's been...

We've been raped... abused, confined... by our culture; skin and mind! Better contracts could be had!  BEMs?  Perhaps, not bad!
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  • Perhaps, not so bad! Abused, is, after all, abused. We endure plenty of that from our own brothers and sisters. How much worse could a Bug Eyed Monster be, gentle reader, beyond a human fiction that they'd lay their eggs in us or flay us for our adrenal glands... but then remember the nicotine eggs laid in lungs of lay humanity by our respected captains of industry, its legions of cruel facilitators (read stockbrokers and supporters in Congress) AND our *elected* leaders.  Don't these feed upon a lay humanity?
  • Sigorney Weaver, in the character of Warrant Officer Ellen Ripley, said it best. "I don't know which of us is worst," she observed, "You don't see [the aliens] screwing each other over for a percentage!"

  • ...Percentage...
  • Lately, one of the more intellectually flaccid and portentous blogging popinjays speculated aloud as to what it was I might have to be so damned angry about... "...angry"! "...So angry." "...What's the anger for"? ...Wonders this smirking cyber-imp and centrist pretender, this faux rationalist. This blithering knee-jerk reductionist. This stealth reproductionist. This non-progressive and slack-jawed flat-earther.
  • Has it ever occurred to the reader that anger (as unjustified) is ever brought up in an argument (as a dismissible negative, that is) when the one to first broach about the "anger" has no intention of actually discussing suggested reasons for that anger? ...Justification for said anger? Grounds for said anger? Motivation and Rational for said anger? Cause, Basis, and explanation for said anger? An anger's raison d'être!  The question is begged: is there ever a reason for anger?
  • Great suffering ZOT!  Of course some anger is justified!
  • My anger is an anger decidedly well couched, honored reader! Honed in a decade's consideration of continued service, selflessness, and considered aspect (...I've lied to or stolen from no one and aspired to follow the data even as it gored my own oxes...), this "dismissed as inappropriate" anger has ever been expressed as it could be expressed... in any manner a 21st Century Computer revolution might provide to even the most minimally creative... eh? Word, Image, motion picture, and song? The canted critic crippled by uninformed bias and faux-cautious cant can just... eat me... you know?
  • Specifically where, a reader might ask, "Where is your anger described, in any way, as justified?
  • Well, start here, then go here. Evaluate this very highly accessed piece. Review this epic historical perspective, called "Ink and Stone," parts I, IIIII, and IV. Complete this small survey course for a cameo of my anger here and then review and sum-up by skimming backwards, starting here.  I suspect I have some small justification for the taciturn.
  • The reader need not content themselves that there is an anger which might be dismissed as inappropriate and unfounded... by proclamation only. No. Here is a citation for anger which shall not be so casually dismissed. Indeed, an entire (and uncontested) dissertation for that anger exists at Rense.com, AlienView.net, alienviewgroup.blogspot.com, and at other locations. Like I said, the unrepentant and unresponsive slack-jaw critic with self-interested agenda can... ...eat me.
  • That's right. Your garden variety and poorly explicating pundit regarded is a coward who questions anger while airily ignoring clear justification for same! It might even be said after review and reflection that I have been remarkably constrained in that anger...
  • Yes—dim-bulbed naybob and insentient nym-rod. I'm angry. Now go review why. You have the references.  Oh, by the way.  That's just the history.  There's current events, too!

Restore John Ford!