Science Is As Science Does...

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Science is most misconstrued or misused with such attitude. A useful tool within ones belt, a wealth of uses we've all felt, but dote upon its cloying ways: too soon we are as drones and slaves to wallow in its easy vices, suspect fixes—"new" devices.
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Science is then too respected; "inadequacies" have been protected... Who sprints before they learn to walk; who mumbles where we must have talk? "Scientistics" snaps proud fingers, still, less than subtle fear must linger... we could lose what we have gained if what propels us proves our shame!
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Smirking laughter fills the halls at "feeding troughs" where *science* lolls in languid lunches with  "dyskeptics"... thinking's somewhat less eclectic. Focused on their *bigger* picture, call it their "investment's" stricture, they must toe the *party* line or lose their funding—jobs—one finds.
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Well... ...screw those bastards! They're devolved! They abdicate their honor! Solved! These pretend that they're equipped to take a step I feel they'll miss... ...so make us leap a needless hurdle, hobbling more sincere proposals!
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...Consider Tesla, what a find—a "Moses" for Electric-kind! They sure sensed where HE was headed, "dried him up"... ...then HEAPED discredit!  ...And this despite the grandest gift as one could think of... imagine it!  ...Power snatched from thinnest air; we could be as gods, mon frère!
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See? Being right's no guarantee. We shall not HAVE what sets us free! ...Velikovsky's explanation, good support and gave citation—he wrote a book so roundly panned it begs another look, by damn!
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Sitchin makes the ancients real and what they wrote's the real deal! They had knowledge—far exceeding—what's copped to in our schools, I'm reading.
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Why, consider temples strongly made, but ruined in *disasters*—razed!  First? Built to face a rising Sol... ...upon its solstice one is told... a line configured for encryptions, strange conjunctions, and eclipses! They knew their seasons—knew a year—divided by their days of fear!
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A number of "the circle" WAS ... nine times forty—works it does! All the numbers (apart from seven) turn three sixty 'round the heavens! They weren't stupid, knew their stuff—why: to make damned sure they'd food enough!
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Here's the point, and listen closely, the temples are rebuilt—some mostly. Still not stupid, they display that temple turned... degrees away!
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The sun has moved (?), and turned right back (!); as if come up in some other track!  The Sun's inconstant; is that true?  How's that get passed a peer review?
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Temples moved to follow suns in shifting solar dances FROM... locations they had held for years—though when Suns moved... it kindled fear!
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Kingdoms were reduced in thunder... populations quaked at wonders... Earth and Mars indeed contrived... to meet in space and coincide!
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Folks would think they'd seared their souls!  Despite their sacrifice, God scolds!  God "moved," in turn, "the sun around," e'en "stopped it dead" as one had found!  The reader knows the sun's unmoved; the supposition's Earth was moved...
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Science's shocked, and then dismisses... sundials that don't work... as *misses*—errors that our elders made, in ignorance that they'd put paid. A year, in days, three sixty-five (a quarter, change, to keep it right?). That's the way it's "always been" (!), and any more's a "drooling grin"?
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Science smirks so glowingly, like they've the answers, knowingly—like we can TRUST those "at the trough" to tell us when "enough's enough":
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"Scientists are... just not Science" these intone their self-reliance. "Science is a path we use to keeps the facts for firm review. Thesis and antithesis—we test these out for synthesis."
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That becomes a brand new "posit" searching for its opposite. This is found and onward bound—repeated, scored , and checked... found "sound." Continued to some far refrain, we'd hope some meager TRUTH remains!
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You think that I confuse these two? You think it's me who misconstrues? But no, good friend—and just BECAUSE it's science IS as science DOES, that we will stay down on our knees, to hide the skies, and NOT be free!
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You just mouth an old refrain—a cloak you wear to hide the stain. These are just mere words to you—to stonewall's what you really do!
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You can't search the scary skies without assumptions you contrived to keep on feeding at a trough that keeps you down and clueless—lost. You can't mean your snide derision, blame it on the imposition of our leaders un-elected who remain so... undetected.
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Who is hidden? Who betrays? What grand secret haunts our days?
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What will all our futures bring? Gracious bounty?  ...Or, slaps and stings?
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alienview@roadrunner.com
www.AlienView.net

Main-streamer lapdog Dr. Gary Posner, an MD, is a go-to guy for soporific platitudes salving threatened if contrived sensibilities.  Additionally, he is the less than intrepid, imagination-less, numbingly tedious, and wholly uninspiring "cult leader of the Tampa Bay Skeptics. Dr. Posner writes the following in "Faulty Sense of Reality", published in "Skeptical Inquirer", 3(2), p. 79"...

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"[Believers in the paranormal may be] afflicted with a thought disorder that manifests in... a faulty sense of reality... [their] irrational behavior... may be more compatible with a diagnosis of ambulatory schizophrenia... than with mere naivete."

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...Less stealthily nasty than when you bang all the hot-points together, eh? The nastiness, contrarily, comes out plain. ...But Posner's patronizing bit, tapping-out-the-comfy-pipe on a rugged shoe heel lugubriousness... is handily, if less visibly, debunked itself.  To wit:

One Brian Zeiler writes;

So, once again, we see the basic pseudoscientific line of argumentation of the "skeptics": instead of addressing the claims with the specificity demanded of the scientific method and the protocols of logical debate, Posner chooses to assert that his opponents suffer from a pathological medical condition, a bold claim for which Posner apparently has no burden of proof. Posner, a self-styled "skeptic" forgets that in science, criticisms of claims must be specific, not vague attacks—much less vague attacks on mental stability.

Posner, like most "skeptics", will cloak the shocking irrationality of his amazingly pseudoscientific claim in the holy robes of "science," thus lending a false sense of scientific legitimacy to an approach more consistent with witch hunts and crowd madness than with the scientific methodology which he ironically claims to defend. In reality, he only denigrates that which he purports to promote.

Thank you, Posner, for illustrating the essence of "skepticism" in a way that is highly effective in discrediting any sense of objectivity and scientific rationality that you might have hoped to enjoy. Of course, your fellow skeptic cult members will simply laugh and congratulate you, but that's only to be expected.

How did the scientific community morally deteriorate to such a level where base instinct overrides the logical faculties? Posner's comments are the antithesis of scientific methodology and logical debate, yet CSI[COP] promotes such intolerable, fanatical viewpoints nevertheless, all while cloaking their zealous agenda of dogmatic fascism in the ruse of objective science.

—Brian Zeiler

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Not all THAT overstated, eh? …And so it goes as one wonders what a scientist really is.  Just another "Priest"...or gravid psychopath not personally responsible for aggregate acts, consequences, and activities?  Do I repeat myself, I wonder.

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See, it's not science. That's just a cloak they use.  Consider, "Science" would not remotely exist but for the jealously anxious practitioners of it.  Those persons with huge confidence and no conscience—all hubris sans the remotest humility.  The cruel wage of that hubris sans the remotest humility: Atomic bombs and Frankenfoods, just to start...

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Sincerely, as I wrote above, science is as science does. Indeed, without the humanity officiating it, there is no science... which is after all a human invention, an idea wielded by humans for their own purposes facilitating self-interested ends.

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Viewed from alienation: science is, at worst, an arguable ill, ill-wielded for ill? At best: too sure of itself? Too convinced that it be the default instrument of consideration even upon that which it refuses to consider? Sir and madam!  There is your lunacy and, ironically, not in the "woo crowd," eh?

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Consider, used in an identical manner, a hammer can be a building tool and a murder weapon. But it's still a hammer. Given circumstance, what's the saner use?  ...Rather slides around, that does...

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Speaking of being hammered: what's new in John Ford's miserably unjust existence... I've heard disturbing rumors I've not been able to qualify. Any news is appreciated.  Mr. Richard Smith, over to you?

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Restore John Ford!

Such It Is!

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What if Earth and Mars contrived... to meet in space and coincide? 
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...Closer does that red dot loom! The bigger dot's the nearer doom! Too soon?  ...That planet makes arrival, and we are lost.  Beyond survival!
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Witnesses know hypertension as Mars provokes their apprehension.  ...This is in the written record, persons saw this thing conjectured... when planets dance a sweeping turn—provoking terror—stomachs churn...
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...You stare aghast at flaring skies to see the moons of Mars describe... ...an arc that drags them through your air to swirl burning clouds up there!
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"Horns" these grow, or "beards" they have, with "hair" or "arms" or "hands" to grab! These smash your walls and raze your cities; nature frowns, enraged—no pity!
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Moons of fury! Roundhouse swings! Winds a flurry—shrieks and screams: these savage hapless Earth—decrescence*—as gods who'd teach the harsher lessons.
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See, massive bolides in the sky will make their "dangerous dance"—we die! ...And bad enough they swing to miss us, if a punch should land to kiss us, we would cease to even be—our atoms scattered far and free!
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Forget the moons, and think attraction. Remember "tides"—our moon in action? Mars would pull the seas so high they'd scrape the clouds from starless skies! Tidal waves, some miles tall, would wash the planet pole to pole! This pull of all that gravitation raises water's aggravation—smashing up (with shocking force!) our puny buildings... down, perforce!
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...Cheek by jowl our bones would molder, death would rot in mountains—bolder... ...That which lived: now cubic miles of heaped up dead-fall—death in piles.  Hummingbirds and tiger's paws are mixed with shattered human's jaws, then pounded to a carbon slurry... whisked away by water's fury!
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Forget the water, what of EARTH? It's moving like the water, WORSE: ...along with water's crushing force it hoards electrons—but of course. The Lightning is impressive—grand—if cloud to cloud or cloud to land. Its bolt is HUGE just "Earth confined"; it shatters hills and strikes one blind!
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This is NOTHING when compared what's passed between the planets, shared—where bolts become the spears of Zeus, and miles THICK... these bolts cut loose! Its smallest ZAP would dwarf the canyon we have labeled "Grand," companion! Fire breathing, mad, and sacking, it's a twisting—churning—*dragon*... existing down to present day... and echoing old legends made...
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Forget the lighting, mere *influence* turns the POLES to new congruence! The Earth's thin crust is wrenched quite loose and continents are bashed—abused—to take new form, are rearranged, and shredded in a blender—braised!
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What was frozen, blisters—STEAMS (!) in hot hell-fire: shrieks and screams! What was tropic harbors glaciers, scraped down clean—it's God's erasure!  Burning naphtha rains from skies that churn with madness undefined, and Earth's afire—carbon black—absorbs the heat ... but cold comes back!
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Those perceiving huge events are scarred beyond their scared consent...
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Burnt into their hollow souls how well they know these words as told...
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The suffering—it's so intense—the blood is ink for lines they'd writ, and all the horror of those days is written into parts we play... we are hanging by a thread... a sword of Damocles... ...all threat.  We but tool our thoughtlessness to push these thoughts away repressed...
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Though, pity those who've watched the planets spin too close and touch—God damn it!
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These are sights one shouldn't see!! They stun and shock, too harsh to BE! These are "Worlds In Collision." These comprise profane religions.
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This is more than mere contusion. This is cosmic mass confusion. This is more than can be borne, to be impaled on nature's horn, but such it IS as world's clash, their air afire—their waters crash!
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Such it is to SEE worlds race, and shred themselves in HARSH embrace! Such it is in "Earth's Upheaval"—slaughtered piles of critters/people, thrown up in these massive banks of ruined flesh to rot and stink.
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Past is future, mixed as one, precluding fate... which comes undone: destiny, in shades of gray, dissolves all futures cast that day.
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When at last we're all struck down, when every smile becomes a frown, will we recall we had a chance avoiding, then, disaster's dance?
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Imbued, perhaps, our very genes, themselves, are left to keep lost dreams.


alienview@roadrunner.com

www.AlienView.net

...But never—no never! ...Never to shining and shiny "Man," the jewel in the crown of God's creation! Cosmic destruction is, of course, beneath ourselves?  Besides... the shiny shine alluded to may be the glare of cosmic stage lights on flop sweat...

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Har... no pride at the fall.  I only hope I have the time and the fortitude to hoist the pointy salute of the "junior bird-man" in the face of that looming doom!  Remains we could have had a lifeboat on the moon; we thought it safe to have all our eggs in one basket...

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On another subject, be sure to check the above illustration for this one closely. Is there something in there you missed? There is something similar in many of my illustrations. Though, invariably un-noticed. I don't mind. They're subtle.  Only, they might be what you need to see, eh?

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It occurred to me that, just perhaps... I should tell, not where they're at... no, never then just what and where... Just that something's lurking there.

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Left click the illustration, remember, for the big picture.

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Tune in next time, won't you, for some discussion on the *difference* between science and the ubiquitously intrepid scientist.  Be warned.  Pride does go before the fall.

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Restore John Ford.

*The opposite of concrescence

Friedman Finely Tuned

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"David"—"Goliath." ...Still fighting it seems. One's over-cocky, and is once again reamed. One strides the "mainstream" opposed by too few, while his honored opponent's courageously true. See? One narrows scope to a facile percentage, the other is open to "data," comprende? One is a scoffer with "knee-jerk dismissals"; the other's employing the...facts... (?) as his missiles!
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Filled with his "confidence," and the hoist of his "creed," Goliath was RIPE for a fall that he needs. David, well read, has prepared for his role; Goliath shows up with his head in a bowl. David shoots well, and infuses his points. He cited them; hell—he was owning the joint!
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Then, Goliath seemed caught in his own vicious trap; he hadn't prepared and was pinned to the mat! Stone-marked and bleeding he moans on the floor! He proves to his last that his "less" is not "more."
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Bereft of his homework, Goliath's ungainly. He fumbles around for his words so inanely. He cheery-picks data: so grinding an ax to qualify "comfort" he knows cannot last.  See, profoundly ill read and bereft of a clue, he insults all intelligence to misinform you!
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Goliath is vanquished for arrogance, friend. He lies "belly-up" for his close-minded kin. Plus? The sneers from his camp are the stones that are used in the sling of a righteous, experienced few.  Friedman's experienced, sober and fair... debate is a conflict and the blood is let there.
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'Round and around went the weight of Stan's sling; his arguments whistling like fiery stings on the physics, the cosmic, and base relativity! Shermer seems mired in mawkish proclivity... his ignorance plain in our search for the answers that excise that "ignorance"—that cognitive cancer!
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See, Friedman could read and he'd read the man's book. He's studied his "Rommel," so like "Patton"? He cooked!  Soaring in argument, cleaving said air, he showed beyond doubt that his argument's fair.
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Shermer, assured of his "glorious might," that's he's to prevail in a "no contest" fight, was covered with gaps in his armor-cum-science which weakened his impact—was itself pseudoscience.
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Goliath is beaten, but will not admit that the intrepid David had merit and grit. Dismissal's outrageous, a listener concludes. The argument's valid, and the thought now intrudes... that space is a huge place, completely unknown, and it's filled to the BRIM with "anomalous foam"!
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Lost in its hugeness is mind undefined by concepts which limit and keep it *confined*.
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We hold to these tails of "too timid" tradition—are blind to the front by this backward transition.
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Complacent, believing proud science must win, we turn a blind eye to the fringe which begins just a mean tiny distance from what we now know is the little we know of what's hidden there, Bro! What can be measured; what can be seen? What is seen CHANGES to fit any scheme!
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Friedman won out once again 'cause he's right. His scholarship proves what he sees in that light! He follows the traces the data proscribes, arriving at places the facts can't deny!
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Why, he has what compels me to question the *man*, for all the *man's* blandishment—pretended elan. He had the right stones, and he hurled them well. Degrees will mean nothing if cheating to sell.

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So flourish, false skeptic, your arrogant spite—and feel that stone as your forehead it strikes!
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alienview@roadrunner.com
www.AlienView.net

...Whistling Sling! 

When Dr. M. Shermer says that a 'spaceship' and 'body' would "do it" for him, frankly? He lies. That's just to start. CSI(cop) affiliated, Prometheus published, and default media lap-dog and nay-saying "goto" guy? C'mon!

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Dr. Shermer: "a reasonable man who can at last be convinced given extraordinary evidence for extraordinary claims"? What a load!

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Nothing would *do it* for him, but that *it* is sent back for "additional analysis." He would continue to demand further analysis until *it* was either proven "wrong," however ephemerally, or he was checked into a rubber room and Thorazined to incontinence... the same things, actually.

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Stanton Friedman believes we are not served by our ignorance in these matters. I suspect that Dr. Shermer believes we are. That's why he'll lose the real debate, every time.

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Moreover, with regard to Dr. Shermer: I suspect all his points as based on ignorance, misinformation and an apparent will to promote these things. Who did he cite but fellow axe grinders. Axe-grinders handily blown away by Friedman already: Nickell, MaGaha, Nye, Clancy and Pflock spring to mind... but forget that.  Shermer, once a "Jesus played with Dinosaurs" born-again Christian himself, perhaps only prosecutes a new way to be a religious fundamentalist.

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Asked who tries to cleave closest to the "spirit of science" and "consistent method," one can only give Stanton Friedman that nod. See, Shermer insists on taking inappropriate, unnecessary, self-serving and so unproductive pains to satisfy Occam.  His assumptions are contrived.  His premise is flawed.  His assertions are fatuous.  His presumptions are uninformed.  Indelibly canted, he's a lost fundie ball is a tall grass he refuses to mow himself, and with the most tedious and intransigent steadfastness, too.  The preceding is an essay map for a paper exposing Shermer's "to-a-fault" reluctance to remotely complicate the UFOlogical hypothesis, a reluctance of his own unbrave needs.

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There's some irony, on the surface at least. Dig—shallowly—to find there's no irony, really, at all.

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And did you notice, reader? At 27:33 remaining in the fourth hour of the referenced C2C podcast... Dr. Shermer made still one more reference to an 'anal probe'. What is it with Dr. Shermer and anal penetration as he titillates or otherwise rubs the salacious crotches of the left half of the "Bell Curve" with his puppets and anal fixations, eh?

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...And again, I have to ask. Is any of this in any way comforting considering all the psychological training he has had? Is this appropriate behavior?

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Begging A Schtupping...

Scientists are too obtrusive, lawyers are corrupt (abusive), and cops (too busy) arm themselves to keep an *order* rich men will... Tesla's papers languish, hidden. History's contrived—not kidding*—startling questions go unanswered by those persons faking answers!
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...Autonomy—so near at hand—suggesting what it always had: that we are best when on our feet; to struggle is our meal—our feast! Though, we would have reward for work, to keep our "edge" alive—alert. We'd have ourselves some satisfaction, without division or detraction!
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We might look for stuff I've spied in daylight, dusk, or starry skies. We could change our attitude—cop to truth? Be—so—imbued!  Avoid denial so mal-serving.  Be forthcoming!  Be deserving!
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...Like, make it not a "petty" crime to fake a "sighting," anytime!
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It's the SAME as "terror," clear? Yelling FIRE in a theater! It's faithless, mad—a mal-occurrence—to willfully create disturbance!  We're not served for crying wolf where truthlessness becomes "enough"... becomes enough to quell the curious and make the subject less than serious.  Folks stop looking when betrayed; they're embarrassed when they're played!
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See? It lacks no end, this disrespect! It's rudeness at impertinent best! It's spit so nasty in your eye that scales form from lying slime! It's "falseness" in a "presentation"—willful (thoughtful!) misdirection. It supports no elevation—it provides but defamation!
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See? Burned and shy one WILL stop looking, and one not looking begs his schtupping! 
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Still you'd state that I'M the problem, and say it smoothly, charming—solemn. I observe irresolution... so I provide "my own" confusion?  I don't think so; that's dissembling. That's the dodge that you're assembling.  You distort intelligence.  You're your own irrelevance.  Ears to hear and eyes to see provides the proof I need, for free!
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...Slander's wage for asking why? Consider gifts from endless skies... raining strangeness, ceaselessly, in ways to shake your fragile tree (and that's the reason why you're clueless, sans "with-it-ness— bereft of "coolness"...).
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It's true I'm asking twitchy questions, but you dismiss the mere SUGGESTION: that worshiped science is insufficient, incomplete, and so? Deficient!
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...And this is said in plain cognition of its *gifts* (...its imposition!), 'cause it's not the total picture; it won't save us; fill our pitcher! It won't give us ALL the answers. All by itself? It won't cure "cancer"! In fact, it "causes" more than "cures," its vectors far from grace—be sure...**

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Hey! How did Homer (Virgil?) know—that Mars had moons so long ago? How would "terror" and a "beating"... name these moons so quick and fleeting? Where can come that strange idea he couldn't "see"... or "see," conceive of? How'd he KNOW, or WHO would tell him? Where does "weird knowledge" ...even come from?
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This was what their legends said? This was myth (?), and fiction wed? This was "odd coincidence"? This "was nothing"—of "no significance"?
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You whistle past a graveyard, friend! Admit the fear you must transcend!
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"Brookings" portends mass hysterics, and propounds like they're hysteric! Folks mistaken, mad, misleading, misinformed; some clearly weeping... moans and gnashing teeth, foursquare... their ignorance confronts them ... THERE!  "Humans scourge with tooth and claw, all destruction, the death of law"! "Society must then implode," if they come clean to self-disclose?
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That's such crap—convenient swill—to keep the *cat-birds* seated well! We're a "fodder" fueling dreams of psychopathic "kings" and "queens," Hangers-on, facilitators, soulless yes-men—abominators!
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We're an "entree," food of course, for such as... ...sans compassion's force. See? Disrespect is tendered us by leadership betraying trust!
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Jerked back and forth? Incredulity—weighed unfairly (institutionally!), folks wallow in a murky mire of "truthiness" and "crap conspired." This avoids the real deal. So, who is helped if things get "real"?
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Buried "heads" in shifting "sands" just makes it harder—understand?
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You're the problem! You're no solution. You own convenient institutions! Cops and lawyers (strange collusion!), and Doctors dance with profit—fusion! Gub'mint's owned by non-elected masters of inspired "neglecting"...
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Everywhere you look there's lying! Christians spinning webs decrying... sins unseen if of their own, but quick for others with their stones!
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Little girls are starved to lie with make-up on and implants plied. The Gub-mint's errant declaration, the Church's crass prevarication, plus corporate lapdog's whorish *news* will sell the "soap"... but spoil the "stew"!
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Doctors cheat on Medicare, and lawyers trump up charges there! Cops can torture out confessions, opportunists squeeze concessions, and futile schools still beat their kids; we even KNOW they're invalids! Lying is our way of life. We do it first! We ARE our strife!
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Best we cop and get right to it. I won't hear excuses—screw it!
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Your denial stops progression; I can't believe in your obsession that we crown a grand creation built by God—we're infestation! ... That's what we are: mere parasites destroying hosts in sentient spite!
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We're not alone and we should cop. We're being watched, and we should stop!
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"Cop to what," you smirk and laugh. Why, cop to "time," its grand expanse. Cop to "space," its plumb-less reaches! Cop to "matter"! "Mind" beseeches!
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...And while some sneer their glad derision? Paradigms are in collision!  Eons crack and break apart providing us a "reset" start.  We're absolved imagined crimes of those denying us our time.  We're released to our potential in a brand new existential.  We enjoin the stars believing they're the things so worth achieving, so we despair that we're kept "numb," dense and dim or dull and dumb. 
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alienview@roadrunner.com
http://www.alienview.net/

More than paradigms it would so appear.

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Is it true that since 1908 light has never... no-not-one-time EVER... been measured at a consistent speed otherwise proclaimed to be an unwavering 299,792,458 meters per second... and that this august if arbitrary value was "decided upon" in Geneva in 1975 when all the concerned physics wizards conferencing in fretful covens at an international physical congress aired their unsettled concerns regarding same?

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Science by fiat? Old alchemy never did exactly that, I suspect. Why is not the heart of science investigated by that same science?  Arbitrary conclusions from Physics, the model institution of prediction, measure, and number?  Astonishing and unsettling.

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Why unsettling?

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Einstein's knees turn to rubber at an "inconstant" speed of light. A scientist's surety index goes down and his idiosyncratic stock deflates. He loses a previously held tuminescence, frankly. He runs out of academic Enzyte. [TM] He begins to suspect that he has everything... entirely wrong. The hardest of our hard sciences, the oldest too... suddenly has a soft center?  That will cause some shrinkage, eh?

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More bad news... plus a flustered and embarrassed gush by a heavily lettered intelligentsia to use phrases like "the limits of instrumentality" and "statistical significance," to explain this seeming human inability to pin the speed of light down. And maybe limited instruments would explain this lack of accuracy but that subsequent measurements over time have tended to faster and faster top speeds? Uh-oh.

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See?  An evolving instrumentation would provide assessments clustering around a singular value justifying a mean of 3 hundred million meters a second, but an oddly steady acceleration... whoa Nelly... a horse of a different color!

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Sincerely, if true?  Well, that's a whole other churnin' urn o' burnin' metaphysical monkeys, eh?  Measured now, is light faster still?

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Is it true? Is light, measured for speed, tending towards acceleration as time goes on? Is it becoming faster?

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Funny, I don't think you can even get "research money" to measure "light speed," any more. One wonders what the "the limits of instrumentality" and "statistical significance," would be indicating presently?  Another measured acceleration?

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There's more! Is it true that the melting points of different compounds (chromium dioxide for example) have been increasing more than merely measurably in a fashion similar to light, already alluded to, over the last hundred years... and that these rate increases show a curve of suggestively slight accelerations, over time... thus far? Gulp!

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Too, didn't I just recently hear where time itself was speeding up?

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The reader might begin to see what I mean about questions sometimes being more significantly informative than answers.

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Restore John Ford!

*...snatch this while it is available!  The story of a teacher who wanted to find out why kids "hate" history!
** Terence McKenna paraphrase.

Don't...

I'm "nasty" with those too contentious, those so gleefully pretentious—those professing "dead-lock nuts" on "truths" which shows they lack some guts! Reality's detracted from, and from the "truthful" they will run—their quick dismissal is their creed. When that is lost? They cease to be!
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Existing of conflated coattails, blown around by moneyed main-sails, these dissolve or melt away those prices "fixed" ...that we must pay. These can't, per se, debate their *critics*, their "grinding axes" lack *specifics*, and they have bastardized *correct*—while prosecuting disrespect.
.
These have a special axe to grind to cushion senses they contrive to justify unbrave contentions. See? They won't *see*. They lack dimension.
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Yes!
I -- UFO's have peppered history!
II -- They EXIST!
III -- There IS a mystery!
IV -- Leaping in our skies are flown the enigmatic lights we've KNOWN!
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...But our contentious skeptibunkies, braying, scorning—mocking flunkies... These will hoot, pronounce soft *phacts*, and from the truth, you bet, detract. All, I think, to keep you working, making babies, crying—hurting... ...Still, they're REAL and would upset the "apple cart" ill *owned*, as yet.
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Yes, we'd have the truth; condone it! We've paid for it in blood. We own it!  Were not served, in fact ill-served, to be denied the truths observed.  Had we some "truth," we'd, then, build true... avoid those pitfalls as construed, avoid perhaps, the forecast "planned..."  ...we'd have FOUNDATION, understand?!
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Sceptic! Don't pretend, at all, concern; you will come to live and learn—at issue is the profiteering you enjoy while proudly sneering!
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Don't think that you provide a service. Don't think that you provide for "calm"—be nervous! Don't pretend that fear's deterred in blandishments you purr—absurd!
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Don't presume that you're correct—you've been remiss you would detect—or, kept your courage as a "guide," made progress, mattered... ...even tried!
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Don't profess the "all-dodge rational," don't contend that you're "professional." Do not think your *earned* degrees have brought you off your "callused knees"! Don't presume to "know the truth" and "sneer" or "gloat—pretend aloof!
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Too, don't you dare to sully Occam!  Your artless pretense: courage "run from"!  You distort beyond the frame a meaning found that Occam's named, distorted to the nth degree: the simplest answer's "best," you see?
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"Don't complicate hypothesis without some need" is confidence, but it remains that "When in need," you complicate that thing, you see?  "Occam" doesn't rule that out!  That's what "Occam's" all about!
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So, one refutes your bland pronouncements; one subsumes your trite announcements. You've betrayed our education—warmed yourself in its ablation. You don't rate a second look. Your fire is "out," and you can't "cook"!
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Look around, you're plainly comic! See beyond the pale—it's cosmic! Consider all the games you play to keep the "real deal" at bay!  Concrescence looms; you're not absolved.  This thing's the THING; we're ALL involved!
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Admit that time and space are one, and both are "endless" (matchless!)—*fun*. Admit it's we who happened here...and "there" if near to what you fear. Space enough for us to *happen*—good or bad, past understandin'...

What can happen, happens plainly, and cannot happen once, insanely. What occurs, occurs again!  "Formality's achieved" my friend! We are not alone, in truth! To think we are: be disabused!  If you believe that we're "alone"? Then, you're a dunce, not Sherlock Holmes.  I would have it more "forthcoming"—so we could "plan," get "well," or something...
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 ...Dismiss this as a nonplussed screed? Still and all it's what you need—CSICOP's dull; sans circumspection. They're at a lightless intersection!
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In the years preceding Christ, a couple past a thousand (thrice?), mere *humans* wrote of "asteroid belts... ...twixt Mars and Jupiter," Sitchin tells! Still, and in this long-gone time, they knew the colors, mass—made rhyme of Neptune and his twin Uranus ... how they knew? We can't explain it.
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The Dogon knew a star they worshiped, Sirius, though twins in worship—two dogs to follow at the heel of he who fought the "bull surreal". ...We couldn't notice double stars, given they're away too far! The Dogon knew that there were two. Now how in hell'd they know that's true?
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...The Sumer knew of Earth's precession! This fuels our justified obsession with enigma they don't cop to, investigate, or drop a nod to! See? ...Some ten-thousand years ago! How'd they know that that was so?
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Embrace denial if it's there; betray our ethics; gape and stare! ...But, don't pretend there's nothing to it! Mere science, by itself, can't do it!
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What we've seen defines new pages; too, we've perceived forbidden ages!  So, we can see the moving finger! Writing on the wall it lingers, pointing out the enigmatic for the not so autocratic. It's bigger than you've given credit. ...This bothers one where one could let it...
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Should it scare you—just a might—...promote some sight with greater light; make you see the bigger picture—grasp that time and space are richer... for the efforts you have made in work you've DONE, for what you've PAID!  You deserve to know some truth, al dente, and so to the tooth, which elevates the spirit's progress on a path providing noblesse!
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Yeah... I know as light comes up... ...the more perceived the shadows got! But that's the future been ordained. We see the shadows! That's our gain! Darkness threatened, grasped and scratched, but from those shadows truth is snatched! Of course more darkness is perceived: the more the light comes up! Concede!
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But we move forward and progress... or die by inches, I protest!
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You deserve a clearer vision. You're betrayed!  They lack concision. Your potential's sapped and weakened... by those who dare to mock or cheapen... that which makes us what we are: self- aware... and made from stars!

.

alienview@roadrunner.com
www.AlienView.net

Sentient and Self-aware Star-Stuff...

• 
  

First, we were the Jewel in God's crown on an imperfect—if still favored—world at the center of a series of crystal spheres suggested by Aristotle.  ...Cutting edge at the time.

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Grudgingly, as time very tediously wound itself out in an all but unnoticed acceleration... we are shunted to a series of planets and bolides third from a massive "coal burning" sun... the center of things still.  Indeed, what could burn hotter than coal!?

• 
  

Stunningly, the passage of time presents the further removed suggestion that Sol is a star in a galaxy of stars, and that the galaxy is a kind of star itself in an all but infinity of other galaxies.  Humility demands that Centering ourselves in all of this seems, at best, just ludicrous—hubris unearned!  Still, one wonders how we're still not getting it, you know?  We've always had it so wrong.  Smart money says we have it wrong, still.

• 
  

Recently we *discover* that we are not really even inhabitants of the Milky Way Galaxy, at all... but of some small errant dwarf galaxy idly inhaled by the Milky Way.  See what I mean?

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Forgetting this awesome similarity across scale of an evolving sense of being without ... location... I wonder where we are, really?

• 
  

...Doubt what is doubtable. Believe what is believable. Think what you will.  It's a start.

• 
  

Restore John Ford!

.

Sans You, Individually Speaking

It's about the individual, and the progress that is made... that pursuit of efficacious satisfaction. See, one goes further than the group, in fact defines a group's pretension given "practices" of mob-think, or "inaction."  It's the Shamanistic pathway of "the cat who walks alone," where few will dare to tread as "edges" glare.  ...Though "edges" are required in pursuit of group survival, so perhaps some small respect might then be shared.
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 ...And in no way will it matter that she suffers for her task, or he greases cosmic gears that tear his eyes. Their art is oft rejected... as it hurdles what most fear... ...but elevates us best... we find in time. They follow different rhythms quite ignoring the indifference that their people have preferred and so conspired...we all but touch the "face of God," but most avoid that "darkness," that from which... any novelty's inspired...
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Still, that satisfaction's missing from the short-sight of our ways as we rape our mother planet for the comforts she can pay. We count on some to point this out from where they're walking lead!  From where they light the darkness, at some peril; we proceed. 
.
Shamans suffer ostracism which is sure to come their way (for no good deed can go, perforce, unpunished); they are left to their devises they have made up on their own, and they stay a little lonely, if astonished!  ...And much provides astonishment, new vistas yawn and gape; new ideas stun the senses and the mind!  "Unnerving introspection" actions "strength of will" and more, as the "cosmic riddle" beckons a humility... one finds.
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They only want what's righteous for the spirit's celebration. They want to look beyond the "common pale." They want an "elevation" but they want to know the "price." They want to know the secrets and prevail. They want to know of UFOs, and question small "grey" men—or the "Reptoids," ...big-eyed "Nordics"... ...come what may!  The future is inexorable, and it bears down like a "train"; our Shamans pay the ticket price so we don't miss the "plane"!
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They perform their innovations for the novelty implied. They perform for our advancement, and they shall not be denied...
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...These could let the seeming "space-folk" show us "limits" we were facing... most are foolish if contrived and self-imposed. This *other's* real existence is admitted by the "high-domes," but they won't admit they're "here"; they're indisposed.
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UFO's are REAL friend. You'd see them if you looked—if you pulled the scabrous scales from your eyes! Though to rail at the scales is to suffer, not, your sin, as it's you who's disrespected and deprived.
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The evidence is massive, but it's picked apart by "thugs," and hidden by the "liars, cheats and thieves"... ...by "those we pay to govern" who betray their public trust, so to line "psychotic pockets" with disease!
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It is these who suck the power from the marrow of your bones, as they warp your sensibility to make you think... that we're alone...
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Some would know the truth that *is*—though heaven cracks and falls—or all our staid conventions fall apart!  If the heavens shatter quickly then it GOT its just desserts; it was empty of all meaning from the start!  Too, one shan't dismiss the "faithful's" need: this heaven that they crave, it's a "nail" instabilities require. Though, their faith is turned against them to machines for their control... and in no way of the "spirit" they'd desire.
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It is foolish to presume that we will stay within our "womb," and ignore the deep expanse of time and space! To presume that *they* are here... is common sense of rare refinement, and a steadfast change in course for our whole race! This won't be hammered down to suit mere "skeptibunky clowns"—cretins who won't see beyond their noses... One presumes that path one seeks is quite apart from them, the path that's ever upward has been chosen.
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It's our future way up there which stares from space, and is unblinking! Still, MOST would turn their backs on it, and ape a coward's thinking? 
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...And NO! One shall not waver in their task exposing terror... which has crippled and confined us to this day. And No! One shall not suffer vapid Christians phony "postures" as they scrape us from their shoe; then make us pay!
.
 ...And NO, you are no coward! You are bravery unrestricted! You are talent, strength and passion... unconfined! Slipping bonds so binding, unremitting and confining, you might win your freedom's bounty you would find! And changing is the thing, the course to bounty—seeking balance—you deserve for heating water, doing work... See, there IS an "I" in team... (...or no weak "link" defining "chain"!); you're more than mewling servant to some jerk!
.
It's your will... that must be turned; it's you who must "buy in."  "...'Not provide' for 'their' support..." is all you do, my friend!  Sans you they cannot profit, see?  Sans you they crash and fall; sans you they're only flailing!  Chance to hear them wail and bawl!  So, NO! You are no shirker, though you'll make a grievance known! It's you who is the shaman! ...It's been YOU, and you alone! 
.


alienview@roadrunner.com
www.AlienView.net


We are "the alone in flight to the alone"... Though, but for you, and your effort: society crumbles slightly or a lot, verily. Consequently?

• 
  

You deserve an individual respect, reward, and a certain "forthcoming-ness"—for your very valuable labor, intellectual and especially otherwise, and for your functionally virtuous team-building—"forthcoming-ness" that is NOT coming your way. Why valuable?

• 
  

... Valuable because, in a very real way, your expenditure of energy is bona fide "mind over matter" at the grassroots level! "Stuff gets done in the real world"... when you contribute. Useful stuff gets manufactured—almost out of thin air.  "The man" doesn't make that... YOU do!

• 
  

Persons 300 years ago would have perceived only magic with regard to the things YOU can do entirely without effort! It occurs to me that Alien technologies could put a nice spin on all that for this conjectured individual: yourself. You're due a little "magic"... More of the "efficacious satisfaction" alluded to is warranted. "Happiness" and the "pursuit of same"... the game!

• 
  

 Cheaper power, greener manufacturing, an expanded quality of extended life, plus a safe and efficient transportation of advanced propulsion... hither and yon. Especially "yon," eh?

• 
  

Perceive all this aggregate, sullen, and wholly disrespectful treatment by the system presently "employing" you, otherwise! Are the crippling denials of all these suggested individual empowerments and technological liberties only a ... control mechanism of unethical design... a control mechanism lavishly benefiting the "few"—hijackers of our cultural systems, means and mainstreams—at the expense of the abused "many," and giving those aforementioned systems, means, and mainstreams their power, ironically enough, in the first place!  Where is the fairness?  Show me the respect tendered!  How is this not merely a base tyranny?!

• 
  

Why don't they respect you? ...Because... and listen close 'cause this is key: ...because then they have to pay you, eh? Moreover, its why they won't do anything about "overpopulation"... ..."overpopulation" provides for more to choose from in an abused and exacerbated mass of hungry persons... those "willing" who'll "do it for less"... (Romney's wet dream)... ...though it is sad 30,000 kids starve to death every day to make this program work...

• 
  

 I know not what course others may take, mine changes regardless.

• 
  

Restore John Ford!

• 
  

...Known Known...

.

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Before esteemed and "Patron" Greeks, I'd learned that we were "primitive."  I'd gathered we should "climb their peak," but that "learning" seems inhibitive. No, we're "Archaic" and "non-sophistic" to begin our hoary line—a thin broken line in a well broken chain from *those* who were "backward..." ...to the Greek more "refined"?
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Said Greeks were from "a Golden Age" so "golden,"—brainy—sods! *Invented*! The "Philosophy," projecting "memes" abroad! ...Like they, themselves: the "sun source," eh?  The shining "knees" of "bees"! Proud nadirs of true "science"! The wisest, then, you see?  Well, forgetting I am "paying freight"... requiring meat, not bone!...I am here to question those who'd set our culture's tone!
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"From Greeks we had *descended* (?), then, to fly toward the sun—to wander many planets—our 'journey' just begun"?
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..."The Greeks provided provenance—their 'vision'—mental clarity"? That's a thought which may provide for unsurpassed hilarity! The Grecian "mind" the nascent "root" that we purport to treasure: a high water mark (?) for a pride overweening... so contrived and over -measured?
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"Forgive our proud Greeks the mistakes that they made," my teachers all said, so they all could get paid. "...Before them was ignorance as wide as a river with 'witches' and 'faeries' and 'magic' embroiled. The Greeks gave us "reason" to focus our culture..." though ...remember how "talent," by "culture," is spoiled..."!
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Yes, perhaps, they're digressing and missing the point. Perhaps it's their outlook's askew—out of joint. Perhaps, not advancing: Greeks side-stepped their issues, abused their cognition—so darkness continued... ...And then appeared Augustine, exploiting that weakness!  He'd turn us from "learning" to "darkness" and "bleakness."  And lo, we descended to madness undreamed; the Dark Ages loomed... and then swallowed us clean.  The suffering's legend, beyond even Hell—as we were misled—so I'm ringing that bell!
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See, the Greeks were not "golden," but reflecting old light from that which preceded their cognitive blight...  ...which begins with a student of Plato, I'm taught—Aristotle: the "sun source of reason and thought..." And he merely echoed his "picking" and "choosing" of what was provided his "self-involved" musings; the wisdom had come from some "little black folks..." ...who white men are loath to admit to... or choke!
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...And his was a view that, to him, made all *sense*—that we were the *top*—that we're HUMANS, and since... we "ARE" at the "top" and the "crown of creation"... (...at the "center of 'spheres'—hollow crystal concretions!), that we've "earned" our right to be special—aloof... that we are the favorites of *God*!!!  In.  *His.*  *Truth*!
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Before this? We're *taught*, we were lawless and primitive; blood, tooth, and claw was our ghastly derivative! Mankind was "lost," he would dwell in dank caves; he'd be brutal and shiftless—and he'd stink a foul way? Bereft all the data when women held court? The lives of our humankind were brutish, and... short?
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The *beauty* of chivalry (rofl) "was yet to be born," and man was "untamed and immoral—forlorn"? "His knowledge was "faulty, and likely dead wrong"! His "plentiful ignorance" was "stridently strong."
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"Thank God for the Greeks (?), and the thoughts that they had"? "Our beginnings were Greek (?), before THAT we're quite mad"?
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Never brought up—that they copied their stories from a dim hoary past they'd forgot (...to dodge fear?). They "spun" what they "copped to," dismissing the rest as the ranting of those they refused... but to hear!
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Man had old knowledge the Greeks thought was wrong; "the musings of primitives"; they'd pass that on, strong... so, we hear reports from the corners in shadow, and truth is obscured, disavowed, but foreshadowed!
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See... ...how could those KNOW that the sun was self-centered? How could those KNOW that Twelve Planets were there? How could those KNOW that a belt of accretion existed past Mars towards Jupiter, mon frere?
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How did those know the true colors of planets? Neptune was "green," and Uranus was "blue." How did those know of their similar nature, components of water—near "twins" they are (?), TRUE!
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"Primitive" man had the facts made forgotten by he who would spin a coarse weave of proud lies! *Primitive* man knew the facts of the cosmos compelling humility the Greeks don't provide!
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Lost in the drifts of a hoary old time is the proof of anomaly, fearsome—sublime—that long, long ago...in an eon dimmed past...there were Giants on Earth, and, yes! We were out classed! Most will fall short in pretense that it's God, but it slept with our daughters, friend, and it gave them a prod, and these were our Mothers created to WORK—not to worship or fawn or be less than alert.
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These Giants want LABOR t'would further their ends, and we were a "means," so they used us my friend... in a manner to teach us some stuff which they knew... about planets, and systems, and craft they flew, too!
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These are the records as writ by Sumerians... from ages on back to a time ... lost—mysterious!
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...All of it's gone, then, for thousands of years! The Greeks "put it down" as the proof of their fear, and then left us traditions for systems (Earth centered) that lasted too long, so we stumbled and splintered!  ...Then he, "sensing weakness," discounted the sages... he turned us from "learning" to the darkest, dark ages...
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These are the thoughts that we run from today! Too, we are at peril...could be flushed straight away by the first cosmic strike—some galactic affair—to smother our fate sans compassion or care! ...Or by something more tiny we're brought to our knees? The extinction of fauna, say—froggies or... bees... but laid to waste, bare... then extinct at the last... because our attention got kicked in the ass.
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...Written in clay, it is clear and decipherable, beyond mere coincidence... the things that "they knew..." which they wrote down for us in their "wedge pokes" and "slashes"... that we've disregarded, or laughed at... ...all TRUE!



alienview@roadrunner.com
www.AlienView.net

How could they know? 

Pip pip pip... PUTT-in dada-dada... ...pip!

Restore John Ford

...Spark Of Hope...

..
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Johnny Ford—still locked away? Still kept from freedom's dawn, you say! ...Still eating tasteless gruel he's served with hapless ladles crusted, lurid...
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Bullied by some cell block thug, he's driven down with slaps and slugs? Remember, he's a cop to them, a target for the fix they're in, and sleeping on his fetid mattress, he lays awake and smells the madness; bad enough if he deserved it—UNBEARABLE, he didn't earn it!
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...And he didn't, I'd suspect. For "law" and "order"? He'd had respect. ...And there was irony, sharp and quick, that Ford's accuser was the prick! See? Ford should not be doing time! It's one John Powell committed crime!
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...Crimped and weak Ford's fingers curl around the bars that cage a hero? Damn that sinful, unjust steel removes him from the free and real!
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What's he doing, how's he hangin', listening to a cup put bangin' from some distance he can't get to—he's restricted, tied—denied you! You won't hear what he might say. It questions ways you'd think, OK? See? You got tired, and with no emotion (basing such on foolish notions) condemned a *saint* to thick brick walls while mayhem, outside, howls and crawls!
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Still and all, and not a peep... of John Ford's status—such vast conceit! You think that he's forgotten, lost, that he has come to bear the cost of what it WAS that he got close to—let licking flames of shame engulf you!
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You think that it is unremembered, you called him *crazy*, then reconsidered? He's well enough for trial, you say? Well—when's he going to have his day? And there's the rub, you craven bastard! You won't hear his harmful answers! His trial might embarrass you, but worse than that—the death of you!
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It's gone on now for sixteen years!  That gadfly Ford you've tried to steer? Quiet now within his cell, but bet he has a tale to tell!  ...And he will be, at least, litigious, and, in that way be most prodigious!  That's what Joe Zuppardo claims while speaking out and naming names.
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You'd argue that I "feed his madness" when it's you produced his sadness—slandered him and took his name; I hope that, soon, YOU'RE made to blame.
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Everyone is most surprised that he'd contrive what you've described! All who know him, friend or foe, all know that he was framed as though... a mad man walked inside his clothes—because he looked for UFO's!?!
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Your case is stupid, uninspired... a contrivance you have made—conspired! ...And getting older by the minute, hard to prove the way you spin it.
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...Maybe, hoping soon he'll die! ...Maybe, help him make his try!?!
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Yea, if he dies in jail friend, I'll know YOU did it—comprehend!?! That he's there is YOUR disgrace; I'll hope to see you take his place... among those inmates of contrition—those deserving their positions.
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Months, and we have had no news that's news about John Ford, in view. The reason for that silence glares, and challenges with steady stares reluctant to speak up one word... where freedom is, in fact, deterred!
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But is that freedom you can cherish? So quickly lost, so quick to perish—evaporating like a dew on desert flowers. Yes, it's true.
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When we are at, as much, a risk to not speak out, then, sharp and quick, to bellows of these arbitrary—these tyrannous or darkly scary! Let them bring just one down low, and they're emboldened—don't you know? Then it's us they finally get to, our freedom a mere sucker's bet, too... at the whim of your convenience to make me live your inconvenience!
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You don't get it, that's your error! John is you; he lives YOUR terror. YOU'RE the one interred alive. YOU'RE the one in jail, Clyde!
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It's YOU who's eating awful food. It's YOU forsaken, betrayed—abused! It's you without a spark of hope! It's you who lives John's tragic joke!
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It's you who lives a life despised as harmful vermin—all contrived! It's you who shuffles for the man from cell to yard, to hall—all planned. It's you without a moment's peace, it's you who's driven to your knees! It's you who suffers needlessly. It's YOU in torment—YOU not free!
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Just lately there's a spark of hope... that hope is more than mere soft soap... some promise that the end is near for Suffolk County's reign of fear.  That justice might be done at last... at least as far as Ford is cast; and he's released to reinstate his RESTORATION, not too late!

• www.AlienView.net
• alienview@roadrunner.com

Misery!

You...

Restore him!

• 
  

Yes, you.

• 
  

No, no, not *you*, don't be foolish, how could it be *you*? ...

• 
  

...But _you_... now _you're_ a whole other toxic bag of lurid excrescence... _altogether_!

• 
  

You are as beyond guilt as you are shame! May I live to see your eventual comeuppance and anticipated demise!

• 
  

Even now I suspect you're feeling a growing dread that you "backed the wrong dark horse" and you're not going to get away with it, after all. Blood runs colder than usual for Suffolk County psychopaths, I'd bet.

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Sneer at _that_. You know who you are.

• 
  

...Yo' John!  Be restored!