Sunday, December 23, 2012

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, knowinglylike 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"...

"[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."

...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.

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...

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.

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?

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...

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?

Restore John Ford!

Sunday, December 09, 2012

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, enragedno 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 beour 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 aggravationsmashing 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 blenderbraised!
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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 afiretheir 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




...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...

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...

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?

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.

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

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.

Restore John Ford.

*The opposite of concrescence