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I'd know what's hidden deep inside our monumental pile of pride! Too much *stuff* is hid away: the taxes that the rich won't pay, the saucers flying high in skies, the black-ops of psychotic spies. Cozened by an *earnest* evil—tormented by its pins and needles—bred respect-less in our billions, we're used like grease to ease and cushion... them who follow on the heels of those who make what's real... surreal!
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Those who shall not care "who pays," so they can fill psychotic days. He (or she) to make us shriek ... encourage us, then, not to speak... of that which then must truly dare us, terrify, or spin and scare us...
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This glad ablation kills our spirit! We're close to meltdown—something near it! We won't listen to the wind; we shan't see what signs portend. We're so close to what renews us, less respect from what's contused us—almost there, we breath upon it, yet we must let it go? Be honest!
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We're harried by mad Gods, not Devils, bamboozled by their priests and heralds. All that's preached? Division—hatred! The least (if most)? The "chosen" hated.
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Those who work to heat the water... washing rocks and forcing laughter, languish as the disrespected, bereft of choice and spurned—neglected. Poisoned and then, yes, infected... with glad toxins we're injected, a wasting of humanity. Viral vectors, memes like fleas...
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Confined again by *old* disease we cower on new callused knees! ...Attention drawn to *hallowed* ground? We miss the saucers most profound.
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...And blinded by our jealous culture—"made to order" crows and vultures—wishing to reward the few their lack of vision, depth, or view) ...humans ape a hapless lot, so unaware of what we've got ... pacing to our shallow graves, but hoping for some "bone" of praise.
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Then we get a brand new car (!), forget, somehow, exploding stars—forget that real comets spring to smash our Earth when next they swing. Forgetting saucers fly our skies, though still they fly I would advise. We pander to convenient Gods made jealous by their heralds' cause... to keep themselves in unjust power—safe behind rich walls and towers.
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These the folks who *killed* John Ford (at least as good as!)—scabrous lords! These remaining un-elected, these unseen, so undetected. These producing shadowed blight, these who would preclude our SIGHT—these who make our schools expensive, prohibitive, or bland—litigious. These performing "planet sodomy" with all pretension, grace—abominably! These who sell us out, for dollars—growing rich by fueling squalor!
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THESE are who we should decry, and disrespect ... abhor—despise.
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These, true devils—they confine us; their priests and judges starve and blind us! Yes, I'd try to do without the *God* Newt Gingrich mewls about; I'd trust the future, what it brings! When dams do burst? Potential springs!
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I'd confirm that we're endangered—kept from goals by sullen strangers ... taking us from higher places we shan't find in rein or traces!
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There is where I'd romp and wander, test my faith, consider—ponder. This is where I'd rather be! Autonomous and off my knees!
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- I realize there has to be a "cooperation" or store-bought socks don't get in the sock drawer and larders go unfilled. Though, when that cooperation is at the dire expense of the individual, eventually, that revered and ever esteemed *team* or corporation will suffer most egregiously! Sock drawers and larders contents dwindle. See, I offer that the quality of a team is DEFINED by the quality of the individuals composing it! The quality of links in chains. The individual, one can see: a link of chain... remaining key!
- Consider, reader, the 'teams' that a collection of autonomously powerful individuals could undeniably make before you tell me there is no "I" in team. Without the "I" in team? You don't have a team! You have a limited, lack-luster, and unimaginative—entirely predictable—machine!
- Moreover, autonomous people have time to think on their own! This is of course, exactly what *they* don't want us to have—time to think. When one thinks, the eldritch light comes up ... can't have that!
- Moreover, cowards think no other way.
- Case in point:
- At around 13:00 CST on the first of March one year, a little piece of obliterating "anti-matter" made contact with Enterprise, Alabama, a still growing and productive little American town in the southeast of the state. My town.
- As the expected result of a quantity of meteorological "antimatter" coming in contact with any amount of regular "matter," there was an inclusive annihilation of the matter contacted. There was complete destruction. There was obliteration. There was much death. Homes were destroyed for the rest. Quality of life corrupted or negatively affected for those remaining... not 500 meters from my home.
- The aggregate devastation was in fact complete enough for crass opportunist George W. Bush, that walking personification for disqualifying any vestige of the myth of "white supremacy," to descend upon us, uselessly, in a junket costing many millions... so fruitlessly grubbing for a political capital all but entirely lost to him late in a failing Presidency...
- He would fly over in a fleet of pricey helicopters while I cleaned-up below, loudly reminding all around me similarly toiling that he probably thought he was looking at "Katrina's" Louisiana. There was no dissention to my observation, no protest, only laughter. Verily, a metaphoric "Disaster Area" over-flew the actual disaster below and everyone seemed to sense it. See, real people could use the money spent on Bush's wholly empty and self-interested gesture.
- The point is that a 'team' of human beings rallied and continues to rally in the face of this calamity. Thousands of friends and other strangers have banded together in the fellowship of the assaulted, the obligatory hapless who will be shortchanged by their insurance companies, governments or other soulless corporate bodies... singled out for special high intensity terror only *God* can provide! They are the 99%.
- Individuals were forgetting personal concerns for a time and supporting shell-shocked neighbors they were not even speaking to previously. True giving and self-sacrifice by single persons empowered to give and sacrifice. Truly, and tragically, we are individually at our best when things are at their worst. Read on.
- Tell me there is no "I" in team!
Restore John Ford!
