Friday, December 23, 2011

...Pride, Or Disgrace...

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The tiniest voice from the farthermost place... not heardis a whisper, a murmur—a trace.  Persons "more worthy" turn ears to scant source, then choose to ignore the more sensible intercourse.
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This commands an attention from me, if NOT you! There is LIFE, not from here (?), and that's VALUABLE news! Though we hear it the least, and then not from the fringe; it's besotted and drunken with rancor, my friend.
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These facile elitists use made-pompous science to counter opposing progressive alliance, so prosecute error—"They" are here and not there ... begins the prerequisite to becoming aware!
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We open our minds—*supposition*—it's true! We embolden ourselves with conjecturing views!  We'll open our eyes, and take stock when we dare; it's better we know; and it's better "they're" there!
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How is it better?  What is our end?  Where is the profit contending with "them"?
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Well, forgetting enlightenment, advancement is there, there's fellowship proffered in which we might share! Fact! Mere "presence" alone would provoke our alliance! It'd thrust us to SPACE in a new self-reliance!
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...So, we'd clean up our act, and then do the smart thing; no longer "apart," we would CARE what "they" think!  "Unmasked" and "exposed" or no longer "alone" we'd tend to the circumspect —change errant tone!
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Moslem, Christian, Hindu, and Jew could link up their arms and then clean up their views! Gone—the errant derision for women and gays, we find that they're "human," more "us"—friend—than "they"!
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...The tragedy's that, message sent... it's unheard! It takes a refinement, we lack, to concur. We find we cannot... trust the word the few... who say they're working, but lie to us too!
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We can't know, you and I, still, perform all the work. Perception is worthless... we're less than alert! We are disrespected, denied "right to know..." what's existed in ink as evolved from dead stone!
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...Then consider our "lives"! ...one without the old limits! We *REJOICE*! We're released! We're rewarded and with-it!
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We're STRENGTHENED to find out that we're not alone! Our metal is tested. We're NOT driven prone!
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We'd fly to the moons and the asteroid belts! We would "soar" and we'd "cleave" and we'd ring cosmic bells!
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We'll laugh, and we'll sing; we'll depend on ourselves. We'll find new realities: a robust new health! ...And the tone could be sweet and so pure, grand, and strong... now hollow, so empty ... and futile! So, wrong!
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A challenge from "voices" off-planet in space? That dearth of a whisper reveals a blank face?
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Friends, it's all up to us, and the actions we take! Are we talented humans, or talent-less fakes?
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We have the accouterments; we have what's been needed! Yet we waste potential, and stay so conceited?!
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Will we cop to the end of our terrible loneliness; will we wrest from our fear what it takes and withholds from us?
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Oh, what will become of our sad little race! What is our future? Is it pride, or disgrace?
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Or worse? Futility... My intuition is for optimism regarding a justified pride.  That's fact.

Restore John Ford!

Read on!


"Shoot Them Down"! --


Quadrature --


Wendy's Song --


Rudiak Rides Again --


HyperSpace --


Taken --


Always Searching --


SkyLights --



Sunday, December 11, 2011

...Saber Rattles...



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Forget those making *judgments*
From the centers of their webs...
Or those who raise the fates of some,
But others curse with Krebs.

Fairness is your issue?
...Insure a solid grounding?
...Think: how it's best to lay to rest
That ignorance confounding!

So, how to make a "judgment,"
And stay one step ahead?
Best — "judge ye not, lest ye be judged,"
And search your *skies*, instead.







    • Oh, fret not my friends and fellow loved ones... or even that coldly regarded antithesis of same, of needs held even closer! The poetic explication above is well beyond my present capability as a human-bean (sic)... Though I aspire to it, as we all should...

    • No. I fear I must remain decidedly partisan and obnoxiously singular to the end of my days! It's in the guild's bylaws.  

    • All kidding aside, partisanship is indicated, after all, because there ARE partisans in what's taken, conventionally, for the "corporeal," eh? See these aforementioned partisans create me, at root... they  challenge me, inspire me, embolden me, or provoke me! Asked which came first, the pelican or the Lehmberg, my take is that this race goes, decidedly, to the pelican.  Such lack of imagination and courage should not so flap or squawk unrealized

    • ...With regard to singularity? I only aspire to reflect that to which we are all drawn, regardless.  I read we're not pushed at all, but pulled. No apologies.

    • First, if you're offensive? Best be bland.  Rest assured, I'll offend in turn, if only for balance.  It's difficult, you see, for a career soldier to turn another cheek, so lurid duels of now literary death must sadly ensue.  I'll endeavor; however, not to be the first to pull my saber. Spit in my face; however, and face, yourself, a fiercely unpleasant, if decidedly educational, inundation.  I promise.

    • Frankly? A sneer just pisses me off... ...Like it was writ in stone that any of us had it together enough to portentously produce even one sneer, for any reason! A sneer is only ever regrettable, so I resent sneers provoked from me by your garden variety—and very fatuous—sneering, usually an ignorant popinjay, ironically, not remotely conversant with that upon which they would—and so confidently—pronounce.  I sneer at sneers.

    • People! The "merest-mote-of-consciousness-in-a-cyberspace-expanding-into-hyperspace-at-the-speed-of-light," I'm an innocent, like yourself, in that same cyberspace and beset by craven bastards as the innocent always are! LOL! That's why the rule of law is important... I digress.

    • ...Seriously though, my unabashed loose literary cannon of admitted small caliber is needlessly generated in that noisy sullenness of others.   Remaining is an intuition of consistent and considerable conviction so as to engage this perceived outrage of sinning sneeriness! 

    • I must, of needs then, fire on that which offends my intelligence, my sense of rationality, my appreciation for justice, my insistence on fairness, and my sincere perseverance that we aspire to a bigger box of grander potentialities and far more worthy *ideafications*! Again, no apologies.

    • The preceding is predicated by a future I rush forward to greet, if accelerating uncontrollably towards it as I go... yes! Resistance is futile in this situation! Consider that singularity of the black hole, a similar attractant. Inexorable!

    • All you can do is put english on the inevitable entry, english for the most graceful and productive approach... the right english, spiritual, technological, or otherwise? ...You pass through to, not "somewhere," according to out time's best "imagineers," but something else at a different *level*. 

    • Oh, and you *sing* in the process, sing in any way you can; sing even if you must carry that tune in a bucket.  It's the song, you see, guiding the more honest interpretation of what one does see.  You see?

    • Such is the way of the ufological curmudgeon and paranormal poet/warrior. No apologies here, either. I'm writing if the only one reading, regardless.

    • Hey, once a recipient of the, coveted by some, "Zorbie" award (...for importunate ufological angst production?), I won that august decoration, twice, with some small affection... ...intimated by the contentious awarding, even! Now, I've a *tradition* and *reputation* to uphold. I've a smidgen of a mini-*mandate* and diminutive *popularity* to be appreciated. I've a minute *notoriety* to live up to, eh? What others see before them I leave behind, in truth? Injection into the new hyperspace? I'm ready, girded even by the great barragrugous ZOT, so swing the hammer down! w000000t!

    • Still, the bit of poesy above is a reminder that there are greater considerations than ceremony and ritual...traditions, reputations, mandates, and popularization... These greater considerations are festooning the table for our, made fearful, deliberation, eh? More of us would do well to remember that.  We're made fearful.  There's money in it for the top one percent... all know that on some level.

    • It remains, we've an infant annum looming—and bigger fish to fry in it—even as we are distracted by bogus events and contrived occurrences, aberrant and abhorrent, reader, so compounding our unease and exacerbating our disquiet! Bogus and contrived?

    • Yes, I must report that I suspect many of these "aberrant and abhorrent" events—and other occurrences of frothing toxemia in the 24 hour News Cycle—to be facilitated devices diverting us, the wholly abused rank and file 99%, from the aforementioned greater considerations... Oh, and would that there be an outrage wrought for our prideful manipulator... but wait, eh?  No matter...

    • It remains. Pride does go before the fall.

    • In the coming year? I will, in my small way, attempt to insure just that! [g].

    • ...But seriously, back at the *restive* ranch... consider, reader: What is "it"... regarding our on-topic and timeless tradition of epic length: the "other"... that "other" not *us* and sitting just at the perimeter of our limited perceptibility... ...through countless generations of recording human beings... ...and continues to teasingly interact with us, still?


    • What indeed!?! What is more important than that... what could be more important than that ...when everything else only works to distract you from... that?  We're not alone.

    • That there is *something* there is trammeled out by so many intellectual worthies—and this expanding number of same from multiple disciplines—it insults intelligence not to consider "it," anymore! Moreover, apart from the preceding is the cacophonous level of decibels heralding the fatuous caterwauling from the intransigent opposition, also validating the preceding, if inversely! Real irony there if an eye is peeled for it.

    • There is "there" there. Additionally, our intelligence is insulted.

    • Sneer at your peril. Apart from several hundred years of niggardly applied, malfeasance rewarding, and unjustifiably canted religious arbitrationand these from a soulless collection of scientistic [sic] *insentieros*—arrogantly ignorant intellectual fanboys without decency, accountability, or responsibility—you, reader, are but a candle out of doors in what has, to date, been an environment stirred only by the gentlest of caressing and nurturing breezes!

    • Grok that and cup your flame

    • We could be fierce torches in oxygenated air behind strong doors between stars... but we squander the window's opportunity of our dwindling planetary largess!


    • We are a stupid people doing stupid things stupidly, and we furiously prosecute that stupidity, in an evolving stupidity inspired by stupidity, with stupid words and equally stupid deeds... transcending mere stupidity to a new and more expansive quantum level and cubed *Stupidity*.

    • ...Pretty stupid.

    • ...And it ain't the "woos," bunky. Disabuse yourself of that fatuous notion.

    • "Woo-dom" only occurs as a reaction to the suspected betrayals of that "woo" rank and file by its official and learned authority! They don't pay off to the greater good, are not forthcoming with legitimate information, and we remain to fill that informational void... any way we can!  "Take back the woo," as Regan Lee says! 

    • Curse who's responsible for belittling or invalidating my hatred of that ignorance when it's that person's cognitive "song and dance" not filling the informational bill... which has provoked that hatred, at the start! Be damned, sincerely!

    • Culture is at fault. The fair-minded and progressive individual is without blame. Stand tall, reader. Enough for both of us, I will.

    • ...My suspicion—my intuition, my ideation, my anticipation, my presumption... beyond valueless *faith* and the personal fables of self-serving *hope*— is that an association with the aforementioned *other* I'm on about—get ready—...can empower the individual to more intellectuality, physicality, and self-sufficiencymake you smarter, healthier, and richer—I'm betting... ...which of course is the bane of a jealous culture officiated by the 1%: some few sociopaths, niggards in aspect and monsters in character... actually a fraction of a fraction of the remaining seven billion souls on this depleted sphere... with most seriously suffering in one form or another.

    • ...And you know what? Ironically, that monstrous "fraction of a fraction" suffers, itself, still!

    • Consider: just since the late sixties the rate of children born with autism has jumped from one in ten thousand... to 1 in 166... so, a reduced quality of humanity in the quantity of humanity... ...and the poles are melting, too... 

    • What's on Reality TV?

    • Throw dollars at that? ...Make a scientific pronouncement? ...Kiss your pampered ass good-bye? Hello? [tic..tic..tic... is this thing on?]

    • Hot flash to the "movers and shakers" so informed: you better start moving and shaking. "Move" and "shake" you egalitarian sensibilities lest you're dragged from your homes and offices and made to pay in blood for your scurrilous social betrayals! We'll likely do that anyway, but the quality of your righteous comeuppance shall not improve with age, I suspect.

    • Read on!




    Videos
    "Shoot Them Down"! --
    Quadrature --
    Wendy's Song --
    Rudiak Rides Again --
    HyperSpace --
    Taken --
    Always Searching --
    SkyLights --
    RESTORE FORD!

    Sunday, December 04, 2011

    ...Revealed Disease...

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    I once was "Columbus" when I was a kid. The third grade—a school play. I "sailed the blue" to "claim" our New Shores! I was "heroic." I saved the day!
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    ...All the kids were in their costumes... to perpetuate the lying*... Folk's "oooos" and "aaaaahs" just filled the room; we really should be crying.
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    So it's repeated, the myth inculcated... and even to this time. Classrooms still proliferate—teach this errant... hateful lie.
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    "Well, you gotta teach ‘em something," ...And to that I must agree. "...But we have to keep it *positive*." ...Now, there's revealed disease!
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    Anything that’s "covered up..." is an unclean wound, effuse. From UFO’s, to JFK! Call it: "cultural abuse"!
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    Lie to kids? You make them hate you! Lie to kids? You make them soft! Lie to kids, and they’ll desert you, shine you on, and flip you off!*
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    An "AlienView" groks Columbus more clearly, encumbered by the old-Party Line.  See, Columbus, informed, thought the world was round... as smart money knew it to be at the time!*  ...But how did he employ it?   How'd he make that work for him.  ...And know he took the low road.  He was egregious, psychotic, and grim.
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    Wealth and Power: the cruelest drivers! Christ: to OK the "obtuse"! There was no "near mutiny enroute"! Columbus employed a "horrific abuse"!*  Rape will not describe it, falling well short of the mark.  Pillage won't approach it, the rapine that vicious and stark...
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    ...See, know the facts and witness terror in the nose hacked from the face of a child morally superior to her conquering barbarian race... Slavery, and torture, and genocide! Raping, and pillage, and plunder! Blood was the coinage that Chris was about! ...And his "cover-up" hulls us asunder!
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    Know: Chris handed Natives the bill of a hawk!  He said, "Fill this up with gold." ... "I'll fill my ships with your largess... ...With your flesh I’ll pack my hold"!*
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    "...And do just what I tell you... ...find me gold... ...submit! ...Yes, do it if it kills you! ...Or chance your child for it!"
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    Columbus was a monster!  Don’t say it was the "times"!  The "Watchers" have recorded it!  It's in Chris's hand sublime*!
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    ...Too, don’t believe it for a second—"that he died alone, and broke." He died a "one percenter," friends.* The myth's a tragic joke.
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    *Bobby Rowe, PhD Anthropology... confirmed by the very googleable James W. Loewen and Michael Parenti...



    • ...And what was to be gained?  What is to be gained?  What can ever come of a self-serving lie? This is without regard to how well that lie might be "intentioned." A "well intentioned" lie is a slippery slope, still, even needfully navigated.  Though, how "well intentioned " ...really... eh, reader? It remains, everyone does lie... consider the concerns of "National Security."
    • Don't tell me about National Security concerns!  That weary rubric is so often abused by the aforementioned "abusers at the dinner table debate" that the rest of us just look down at our plates in offended embarrassment.  
    • See, in turn, Richard Dolan demolishes these "concerns" in two volumes examining same, with another volume upcoming. Robert Hastings makes erstwhile "concerns" irrelevant in a bullet proof study regarding UFOs and their decades long interaction with nuclear missiles. Stanton Friedman invalidates "concerns" in a succession of books, tapes, and DVDs outlining cited governmental duplicities, frauds, and conspiracies. Frank Feschino eviscerates "concerns" in a timeline illustrating 14 years of research and study, reader, citing an armed conflict—a one-sided hot war—between our military forces and UFOs lasting for a period of years during the 50s.
    • ...Even Einstein begged them to stop the shooting war, I recall.
    • Lately, a United States—sold out to and mired in robber-baron corporate interests—becomes a nation of lies consumed with an ethic of "lying liars" slithering snake-like on those self-same slippery slopes, even now.  I digress, but there's an OWS, by way of tangential example, because "Wall Street" robbed the American "Bank," and in a manner actually much more egregious than "John Dillinger" or "Machine-gun Kelly"!  See, "Wall Street" did it from the inside with the "blessing" and encouragement of our leadership!   Ask UFO Golden-Ager Richard Hall on the human consequences of this full-blown Bank Robbery... oh, that's right, you can't! He died miserably and in reduced squalor as a result, early in the current unpunished crime-wave! 
    • Consider, a lie will be found out eventually, and the sucker... man, woman, or child... will burn with resentment at the disrespect implied. The lie is revealed, reader, and I do resent it! Cop to it, yourself, friend!
    • Truly, do you think a *disclosure* is remotely avoided for the "good of the individual"?  No, whatever "empowers" the rank and file "dis-empowers" the non-elected and perpetual leadership of the psychopathic 1%, it's perceived, and that information is not disclosed.
    • Their's is one way of looking at it, sure.  A short view.  A pathological view.  The view without imagination, most reptilian, and psychopathic. Though, a view actually understandable given the individual, remember, IS a powerful entity—and has always been—the spendable coin on which the whole of society, past, present, and future, is forged... from the guy swinging a pick to the girl etching a new microchip design... forgetting all personal harbors in between and apart from them, like you and me—just to scratch a densely packed surface!  
    • Only, One in a hundred of these (us), are persons able to remorselessly bleed someone else out for the laces in their shoes! These are entirely OK with their lucrative expenditure of you, reader.  These will persecute any mendacity, will tell any lie, and will pursue any dark, unethical and immoral advantage.  Too?  They are the officiators of your culture and control the mechanisms of your society.  They ARE the one percent.
    • Remaining individuals, consider, left to their own devises and not overburdened by psychopaths, at best act individually to encourage and support other individuals for the benefit of the individual... actually empowering the effected team or group to greater synergies! 
    • Example: intelligent societies subsidize their artists... and what is the artist but the cutting edge of individuality made real in the real world. Individuals orbit planets... Individuals soar and cleave the heavens, other individuals contrive how to put them there... Individuals fly down close to the flame and singe wings, but they fly back to tell us what they saw... I aspire to same, unabashedly.  I suspect more should... and be supported in their efforts to do so, too...
    • That's why a large, strong middle class is necessary for the success of a society. Strong individuals provide synergistically for a strong society the way stronger links contribute to a strengthened chain. The reader will notice that the middle class here in the States in on the wane... why? Don't blame chance or necessity, reader!  That strong middle class is an entity contrary to the interests of the wholly psychopathic alluded to above!  Too strong to be beaten outright, it must be, and ignobly, bled to death!
    • If you do think ignorance is bliss? Really, I must disabuse you of that notion.  The rent comes due, reader, inevitably.
    • Culture, not remotely your friend, friend, does not deserve your reflex loyalty and should do much, much more to earn your grudging individual support... Consider, ufological disclosure likely benefits the individual, rewrites convenient class and gender rules, invalidates and makes irrelevant a corrupt status quo, topples tyrannical, illegitimate and abusive institutions, intimates efficacious technologies, and therefore empowers a super society! Anything else is just a hapless and 2nd rate "Brave New World" alpha/gamma corporate slavery employed by the insulated, golden parachuted, and  hyper-privileged man... ...verily, the "one percent" hates even a rationally open socialism, reader, NOT, because they have to pay for it... no, but because it makes them disappear! 
    • How do I feel that that all the above is likely to be true? LOL! Why, because I can judge a tree by the fruit it produces, reader! I try to remember the one time relevant information was kept out of our common knowledge or that the aforementioned ignorance served rank and file humanity in any way. Perhaps the reader will have better luck.  Don't insult yourself with misdirecting and immaterial non-disclosures on atomic bombs or infectious diseases.  The reader knows what I mean.  Consider, "a cure for cancer exists," n'est ce pas?  The three hundred mile a gallon carburetor exists!  Cold fusion exists!  Broadcast power exists! One can just go on and on...
    • So discounting "societal information denial" and those cover-ups driven because interests between the one and the 99% are identically motivated—like the aforementioned nuclear proliferation and infectious disease control, come up with one example of efficacious untruth... just so we can see how easily your example can be turned around to bite you on your own conscienceless ass. Heh—and I'm the one smeared for a credulous believer... "your (our) best interests are taken to heart."  Riiiiiiiight...
    • Sincerely... much better searching the skies for "next level" UFOs than speculating whether Bill Clinton has an identifying wart on his penis, eh?
    • ...Or was that Michael Jackson...? ...And why must I endure this warty concept at all with so many persons already enduring a real hell on Earth... apart from the ones imposed on MJ and BC, eh? Not answers, reader. No. We want the right questions.  Better questions!

    ~Current Events~

    • Portentous pundits propitiously self-placed and proclaiming their pompous and impacted pretensions—not entirely unlike myself I'll allow—lately practice (...otherwise!) the very antithesis of what they'd preach or seem to be preaching!  They do this, reader, to blunt the thrust of a serious ufological penetration into that which unavoidably IS—so blunt with its mechanism of a new duplicity—a new dodge... a new misdirection... ...while presuming to be doing anything but, ...even to the cruel antithesis, reader, as I said before!
    • Now—everything is on the table. This is understood. Too, even going "heavy handed" into the discussion, I tire more and more of just pussy-footing around, eh?  "Bull in a china shop" becomes increasingly more justified.
    • Considered are Chrono-terrestrials, Dimensio-terrestrials, Intra-terrestrials, Extra-terrestrials, Crypto-terrestrials, Inter-terrestrials, Intel-terrestrials, Outré-terrestrials... jinns, affrites, and water-nixies... trolls, faeries, and gnomes... angels and demons: on and on into a veritable smorgasbord in fuzzy choices of... "speculative indistinctness" fore and aft on a fractal paranormal line, regarding what the "other" could be... but, neatly masking or avoiding the dreaded concept that there is an "other" there, at all!  We are cowards in the aggregate in this regard!
    • Cue the hopeful music...
    • There is, eh? Given seven strong categories of compelling evidence, how could there not be? The increasingly accepted fractal reality empowering historic smart money makes clear that we're not the jewel in creation's crown, reader, nor even the sharpest knife in the drawer! Could our complacent ambivalence to this fact be fueled by the indisputable knowledge of ourselves at our worst, and dread the more powerful *other* for that reason? Could they ...would they... be as bad as we have been?
    • By way of example and on the subject of this "avoidance" (some might say "denial") alluded to, it is similarly performed when some of these aforementioned pundits celebrate the term "UAP" to the term "UFO".  The "UAP," revealed here as just another noise distracting from signal, illustrates a case in point.
    • "Unidentified Aerial Phenomena," or its simulacrum,  replacing "Unidentified Flying Object" is, at root I suspect, only that coward's concept... allowing—surreptitiously and fallaciously, reader—for human singularity in the vast universe... and "plausible deniability" of the ufological... in one swell foop!
    • Solid *objects* decidedly trump an ephemeral *Phenomena*, you see? ...Can't have that!
    • Consider, a "UAP" is something that does not have to be physically there at all, in the first place, and if there in the second? Well, it can be written off easily as "ball-lightning" and "sleep paralysis" with all the other birds, bursts, bolides, boosters, and balloons of an intellectual coward's cognitive dodge! Hands washed! Cognitive dissonances all accounted for! Psychological adjustments made!
    • Now, a UFO, as an OBJECT, on the other hand, suggests something may actually be there (the *other*!), and that idea must be discarded, with its acronym, as intellectually *scary*... psychologically aberrant and pathologically abhorrent, out of hand!  "there are no UFOs, because there CAN'T be UFOs.  Neatly tied, that.  Not.
    • As a consequence of this strange cognitive dissonance not allowing for more than one frog in a pretty vast pond? Well, these already mentioned pundits faux-propitiously proclaim their strained hubris! In an unbrave scientistic (sic) wallow they become irrelevant, self-sustaining, and self-rationalizing paradigms enthralled by their own insentience.  They are busily, gleefully, and gladly prosecuting same... in abstruse extremis... to our dysfunction and defeat, right now! 
    • Moreover, many of these pundits, thereby, only seem to be about providing reasons to stop looking for an *other*... and get on with their business as usual: shallow scientistic (sic) sensibilities setting themselves up as the default arbiter of precepts and observations admittedly outside their scope or pervue! Out-of-the-box Precepts and obvious observations are ignored by science even in its own gleeful admission!  Precepts and observations denied the most cursory evaluation!  WTF!
    • How is an institution of science even allowed this unscientific attitude? See, scattering attention on a plethora of contrived potential *others* can be used, reader, as a device facilitating an errantly forced admission, eventually, that the *other* must not exist at all, perhaps, producing opportunity for continued denial and even dismissal of same. I suspect this is the case.
    • Verily, after one eliminates the demons and angels... the gnomes, faeries, and trolls... the water-nixies, affrites, outré-terrestrials and jinns... in turn wades the sucking mire of Chrono-terrestrials, Dimensio-terrestrials, Intel-terrestrials, Intra-terrestrials, and inter-terrestrials... why... is there any investigative moxie remotely left for crypto-terrestrials and Extra-terrestrials? Does the reader see this Meme death by purposed diffusion?  There are no UFOs because there are no demons and angels... gnomes, faeries, and trolls...  water-nixies, affrites, outré-terrestrials and jinns... Chrono-terrestrials, Dimensio-terrestrials, Intel-terrestrials, Intra-terrestrials, and Inter-terrestrials...  That's science?
    • I submit that this Meme diffusion is just a more current flavor of "klasskurtxianism," merely—every bit a misdirecting acquiescence to the "open-minded" side of the aisle (so to speak)—and a loss leader, reader... ...a pretense that the "end of ufological denial"—and other iterated cognitive dis-associations too assiduously prosecuted by these self-same pundits—are taken into account!  They are not.  They.  Are.  Not!
    • No, these retreat to a niggard's institutional defilade if their heavens start to fall... and fall their heavens must. Our future is pinned to it!
    • Columbus was a lie. Still waffling on the existence of the *other* is a lie too, and resented just as much.
    • The *other* remains, whatever its provenance, genesisGnosis, or manifestation—or however these are argued and discarded and then argued again. This "other" is in no way obviated or dissolved with contrived and interpretive distractions regarding class driven speculations on how it interprets its own existence in what is very naively called—and with zero practical experience but unwarranted hubris—the "real world." It exists, I suspect, apart from all that, a truth in a cowardly fog we continue to unbravely produce, ourselves.



    Read on.
    VIDEOS
    "Shoot Them Down"! --
    Quadrature --
    Wendy's Song --
    Rudiak Rides Again --
    HyperSpace --
    Taken --
    Always Searching --
    SkyLights --

    Sunday, November 20, 2011

    ...Something Better Than Bitter...


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    ...That chance to touch the beautiful—perhaps brush it with your lips ... it's the august of all passions— an agape all would wish. That might even kiss it—though it's reach beyond my grasp—instills in me that hope perceived, discounting protests gasped!
    .
    ...See, then I'm less than bitter! Song leavens stony hearts... Still, you can PROVOKE me, friend, and I'll take you quite apart! ...And YES, I will be charmless as I slap your smirking face; as I see it you’re the problem, frankly ... a discredit to the place.
    .
    You make it hard to love you where your ethics are despised, where hypocrites, abounding, thumping— "bibles"—ooze and slide.  Where psychopaths among you teach the least of us their fear and then cobble legislation—they've contrived—as profiteers.
    .
    ...Too, I wouldn't change a wit nor hair you'd gladly change on me. I'd not restrict your freedoms judging what you would, or be.  ...But, you take that as a licence to impose your sullen will, assassinate intelligence, and intrude psychotic filth!
    .
    Defending to a sullen death your right to be a fink, it's when I'm made against "the law," you'd try that tack, I think. Then everything is YOUR way—with "Jesus" in our schools. The schools rebuilt to prisons, and we live the *golden* rule. And not that smarmy bromide re: the "doing unto others", but it's "he who has the gold who rules," is where you are, I gather.
    .
    ... For that chance to touch the beauty I'd be blinded by its light; it just might be the face of God! I suspect this is our right. ...And blowing off "you can't do that" from persons tacking right—they prosecute their bitterness—I'll pay that price, all right?
    .
    For, light there is aplenty when I see who earns their shame—when I cop to the perception who must lose so they can gain. And the LIES to keep it going so that we won't see the truth: that jealous lords contrive stern rules, but remain from them, aloof.
    .
    There's more than Clinton's penis to the fabric of our lives. There is more that could engage us, and there's less we should despise.
    .
    The skies are filled with "glowing lights"! They travel inner space! Some just might be people, but their provenance—what's their place? It just may be they're not from here, but we don't look—they disappear; made ashamed to ask good questions, so ridiculed, we make "retractions":
    .
    "No one's going to laugh at me"! Unlike John Ford? You would be "free"...
    .
    And that's the secret: lacking courage! Right or wrong protecting coinage; like, dumping on those far from here your toxic wastes... without a tear!
    .
    Resent it when you're finally told? The message is then killed/controlled. All your shame is drained from you and splashed on those who cannot choose.
    .
    The market losing chunks of value? Lost some savings, can't eat cashews? Someone has it, rest assured, it's stolen "fair and square," I've heard!
    .
    The market "burps" and loses "value"? Someone wins... they've sold YOU out, though...
    .
    A "secret service" selling crack ... to school kids yet without the knack for knowing when they're sacrificed... on Corporate alters... "price is right"!
    .
    ...Yeah, Ollie North could lie straight faced and earn my rage—profound distaste—that, welling up with righteous bile—the thousands that he harmed, defiled—he gave the 'right' their ammunition, "welfare cheats"—they had their mission. "Let them all decay—attrition!" Would that I could force contrition!!

    Yet, I will be touching beauty... I've discovered in the fight! I revel in revealing what the truth shows with its light!
    .
    ...And as bitter as I'm made to feel or as angry as I get, I'm happy that I'm blessed to find what's real precludes all threat!  So you can call me "woo-woo" and pretend I need a net; I'm not the one who's lying to himself, friend; you can bet!
    .
    I'm not the one regressing to the dankness of my cave. I'm not the one with unshod feet, mere chattel or a slave.  I'm not the one with bigotries and happy others keep their knees... so I can pray to concrete gods who do my bidding, on my nod!
    .
    I am the one who's had enough! I'll spit right in your eye! Most send me their protection, friend; I soar or glide and fly! You rasp I have no humor, or that bitterness derides whatever makes my message give you lesions, welts, or hives.
    .
    No, some read read my songs for pleasure, some say they sing of love. Some say they are inspired by example, churlish one.
    .
    Some say that I have courage, that I write the way it is—Like Robert Crumb (cartoonist?), but I draw in words most miss.
    .
    Some say that they laugh with me—blowing good beer through their nose—some touch and share their own songs or their haiku or their prose. One said he hopes his kid grows up to hear my kind of sound—so, dismissed as paranoiac? That dog won't hunt, I've found.




    ...Restore John Ford!

    Sunday, November 06, 2011

    A Toast...



    A Toast...
    .
    .
    .

    Hear again: I make a toast to he who "waits" to rot or roast...
    .
    ...One we've left to willful predators ... lawyers, doctors—bad faith creditors! Those who smiled and took his home; those who labeled—shoved him prone!  Those who "represented" him, and in so doing—did him in!
    .
    Those who, even, drove him crazy—terrified, then scared you lazy! Masters of their obfuscation, lying with foul osculation, the darkest of the glad dark lords—those tormenting Johnny Ford!
    .
    Why, he's painted as a "monster," like some uni-bomber *fiend*. He's tinted psychopathic like a twisted shadow-dream. They make him out a killer (...likely them with bloody hands...), and they keep John Ford in lock-down as if HE'S the guilty man! They say that Ford's a horror "who's been brought to lawful heel." Though, they say (and do!) a lot of things ... like lie and cheat or steal.
    .
    John is more than metaphor, brought to heel and on the floor... awash in "water" to his nose—stripped of all but prison clothes...
    .
    He'll lay awake for hearing screams of those bereft their cherished dreams. Humanity is muted—dulled, wishes washed away... annulled.
    .
    Honored goals sans all potential, a victim of the influential; very lost and all alone—to lay awake ...hear cell-block moans...
    .
    Perhaps the inmates slap him down and treat him like a snitch! Perhaps a few go "all the way," and use him like their bitch! Perhaps his life's in danger from assassins in the shadowJohn Ford must live a hell on earth, you're thinking, but you can't know.
    .
    ...Unless, of course, YOU "fall afoul" to ask the 'man' a question, but the answers inconvenient so he prosecutes aggression!
    .
    Then it's YOU who wears Ford's shoes to walk his tortured mile. Then it's You who shall not matter, sans all substance, grace, or smile. Then it's you the "misbegotten" the one betrayed and then *forgotten* ... held apart to suffer hugely... played a fool like Howard's stooges...
    .
    ...A toast to hapless innocence ... A toast to those who fall! A toast to Ford—and others—who are WRONGED and made to crawl...
    .
    We toast these persecuted. We toast them one and all—the ones who have the strength to spit, brought down to knees to crawl. We toast courageous Johnny Ford, I curse, apart, his dark realm lords. I'd toast the light a trial brings, and toast he wins... wins everything!
    .
    We toast this dissolution of corrupt machines and boards; We toast a grand new future that would see John Ford restored!

    .
    We toast to lost indifference; We toast the truth be told; we toast this confirmation of injustice we behold!
    .
    We toast with ardent fervor as John slips beneath their waves, that his plight is heard by those who have "the power"—hear my rave! We toast the few supporting him; We toast that there'll be more! We toast that Johnny Ford will stride triumphant... restored and more!
    .

    Restore John Ford!







    VIDEOS




    Friday, October 07, 2011

    ...Finding's Looking...



    
    Outside, I couldn't see them, so then went inside again... occluded by my thoughts on hidden stars. I reflected on the masking of these things so large or vast ... exceeding any measure of a section or a class, and the suffocation's woeful like I'm underneath some heel; the atmosphere is cloistered, and I cannot breath or feel.
    .
    I feel imposition that the sky somehow projects. The sky becomes a metaphor for: "that which disrespects." So, cut off by some malevolence to the fullness of my life (!), I feel withered, drawn, emulsified, or whittled by a knife.
    .
    "Craft" leap and dance behind their clouds, each one a different color, but it's color in a spectrograph, so then wider, Brighter—FULLER!! ...And these boil ultra-violet! Then, they simmer infrared! They churn in colors you shan't see passed livid bluish REDS!
    .
    Still, I'm sans all observation under soggy, humid clouds. There's a harshness to the "atmosphere" which, then, foams uncalled for doubt...
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    ...I'm disallowed that promise MADE in my own youth... now seems betrayed... Is real *magic* starved and hidden? ...Make no wish! Now, all's forbidden!
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    I shall not spread my human arms, and cleave the heavens unalarmed while... *fathers* of convenient *place* destroy my planet for their "faith"!
    .
    Things aren't the way you thought they were while hidden by those clouds, mon frere! Every thing is out of locus, has no meaning... ...sans all focus!
    .
    This makes one look with longing for some "easy answers," friend! It makes one want to go along, give in, and just pretend ... that "we are but alone in space"! We are IT! Just usOUR RACE (?), and we, of course (*creation's jewel*), are not just gangs of grinning ghouls!
    .
    ...We have substance, we have smarts—we have sense ... Friend, we have hearts! That we would have a spotless spirit, or make some aspiration near it! That justice is, most times, at hand (!) ... that freedom's where we make our stand! That neo-con's need high-colonics... ...they're LASTING sickness—sadly chronic!
    .
    ...Clinton was a cheater who betrayed his only wife (...but produced a healthy kid, yet, still!)... though, no additions to our strife. I preferred him, even knowing he's the left arm of the beast, he didn't take my money, or kill my friends, at least! He didn't cut school lunches while he lauded family values! And he didn't cleave the country twain for "profit" and "what have you"!
    .
    Now Reagan ruined Carter, Bush's lies would sweep the stage... for massive trickle "ups" of bucks should fill us all with rage.  It's these people who were cheated will be breaking down our doors—we'll be dragged to bloody streets become a vicious killing floor...!  Though, THEY ...our "elder statesman," they just OOZE benign neglect. While Clinton was a MONSTER?  Why... 'cause he liked his penis wet?
    .
    ...Now we stand beyond all help for actions made by Bush's whelp, a dry-drunk sans all nuanced sense, "deserting twice from combat," yes!
    .
    All this, extant, while stars explode and flying saucers swoop and glow... but travel in their way, mysterious—pulsing through our skies, imperious!
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    Reality's a fever scream! Do space folk dream more cosmic dreams in manners we shall not determine? We can't grok their story, Herman!
    .
    Every day *good* people pray for unborn babies, "save their day," but once they're born (?) forgot, forlorn... unless they hear a Christian horn!
    .
    Then, reviled and shut out from life—a victim's "double standard" strife... These took their licking, kept on ticking, so fill the jails, barely flinching!
    .
    ...Though, blow away the clouds glad fate (!), this sighting saw Orion's gait! He strode across the starry sky like flying diamonds, soaring high!
    .
    ...And there beside huge Betelgeuse a *flicker* blinked alive and moved so grandly in the predawn air—a UFO should blandly stare!
    .
    ...Just a point of light that moved, my glass dispels a plane with crew ... the circle of unblinking light moves WEST against a star field, bright! ...And I saw it, it was there (!), moving weirdly here to *where*? Flashing lights in non attendance!! Breaking major laws ... some business!
    .
    No "flash" to its position? Well, it's "flash" avoids collision! A flashing light's required—planes in flight. And it's "wrong" when you don't see them; light's measured *flash* proceeds them—port and starboard's red and green's required light!
    .
    ...Though, for now, no longer hidden by the tyranny of clouds! For now it* can be seen so plain sans ragged / rancid doubt!!  The sky is mind perceived as such ...and filled with more than stars, but awash in contradictions you're betrayed—you know you are.
    .
    Anomaly unmasked is what we sign our contracts for (!) —breaking black paned windows and exploding hidden doors! Digging up the truth-soaked ground is what we should be doing! Do it 'fore it "needs" it, friend! It's honor we're pursuing!





    • When you look? You find! Sincerely!
    • Restore John Ford!
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    * — that...

    Videos
    Quadrature --
    Wendy's Song --
    Rudiak Rides Again --
    HyperSpace --
    Taken --
    Always Searching --
    SkyLights --

    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...
    .
    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!
    .
    ...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! 
    .
    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!
    .
    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...
    .
    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.
    .
    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?
    .
    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!
    .
    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...
    .
    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!
    .
    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.
    .
    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.
    .
    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."
    .


    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. 
    .
    Restore John Ford!
    .

    Sunday, September 04, 2011

    Bug Eyed Monsters? ...Not So Bad!

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    .
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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.
    .
    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!
    .
    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...
    .
    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.
    .
    This is NOT a "UAP"! Phenomenon!? Get off your KNEES!  "Phenomena" shan't have to be there, but "objects" MUST, I would declare!
    .
    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!
    .
    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?!
    .
    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!
    .
    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!
    .
    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...
    .
    ...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!
    .


    • 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!