Sunday, February 27, 2011

...Anthropomorphism's Malapropisms...

...With An *Other*...

I heard wild dolphins "thinking" through a treasured friend of mine, with the meaning swimming in and out... of focus. You'd think you understand it, then so quickly it is found... *understanding* has some different kinds of locus.

Your top is inside out, and you find there's room for doubt! Any meaning flatly crumbles in your hand. You are lost and non-replete, disadvantaged, incomplete, and the values that you're missing you're not built to understand.

What follows? An example of a dolphin's special spirit. A look inside the process of a "mind." It's not what you're expecting, and you're off if you're detecting "understanding" in the *pictures* that you find...

Simplicity, eccentricity, glove-feeling liquid space!
Pair and touch, and fly for brunch — our pleasure is our grace.
Free and clear, if one large fear, but spread out in the POD;
the girls provide solidity, it's them who talk to _*_.

Murky water is a clarity we din't see in ultra sound,
that the water is her body makes my lover more profound.
We see undulating liquid ... it's the beating of our heart.
Our brains aglow with energy, our fins are fairy art.
Our thoughts are more enduring than the canyons out beyond;
It's our presence is a blessing —We know a Truer God. 

The *mindless* ones are not about to suffer any folksters.
Those senseless ones who live up-out are enigmatic youngsters.

A mystery are these *human-beings* who stay in the *above*,
made captives of their *fingers* they are lost, depraved, benumbed.
The water's getting deeper, and we wonder what they'll do.
We hope they don't move out with us, unless of course they'll grok the

...And frabble in the narb way, or mittle in the greeb,
and never, never slap their nill to growl a hapless dweeb.
Wouldn't it be rapture if they
hammeled out their carns?
If they
leedled in the brimy with their vornals in their slarns?
Is it feebled artful noffle? Or do they plother other falien ...


...And it's then, right here, you have to stop! The thoughts just get too "alien"!

They're accusing and they challenge what we humans hold so dear. They see us as deficient, and it's us, friend, causing fear. It's us, wrong minded and obscene; it's us to waste resources; it's us to sow our disrespect, and tack the errant courses. It's us to foul their briny homes; filth eats them all alive! It's us to catch them in our nets — then hate them as despised. And still they won't molest us, or give out like they get. Even Orcas won't ingest us though we've swum with baby seals, yet!

The point? We don't communicate with "folks" some still think FISH! Some humans even EAT them — a refined and genteel dish! Expand that illustration to the folks just down the street — maybe slightly better eating... 'til you smell their burning meat...

Now we impose our motives, folks, on creatures from "black space"! We would box them into category, we'd assign to them their "place." We, who know so little, would pretend to make distinction; we, the "gross untested" who provide our own extinction!

We would call them *bad* or *good*, and write for them their ethics. We'd pretend to understand them, and predict, for them, aesthetics. We would make pronouncements on their conduct or their badness. We would place a value on the methods of their *madness*. We would squeeze a dollar from our wan pontifications, and then mock a search for honest truth so lost to obfuscation!

Why, we can't "speak" to human beings who are the very same... yet we'd "humanize an alien," and ascribe to them our blame! We make them strangely subject to the whims of our psychology; they sell our cars, machines that wash ... they ape our weird philosophy? We're, sure (!), our most dishonest when we deal amongst ourselves! How in hell can we decide their program; (please!) do tell!

  • Especially when no real *looking* is going on — except of course by an accepted minority of honest, talented, and largely concerned individuals, individuals decidedly apart from the mainstream and found in a deplored ufologist *fringe*. At least, good reader, as that "fringe" is characterized by largely self-interested persons who profit in support of a dodgy klatch of errants caught under that VAST malapropism of... the mainstream... ... a mechanism of psychopaths struggling furiously to profit the few at the clear expense of the many... ...and so not any kind of real "mainstream," really, at all.

  • Still — UFOs are jammed up our nose in peculiar, self-limiting, if salable ways... at every conceivable opportunity... Somebody is *paying* to keep the possibility of the *other* alive. But a safe possibility — a "controllable," and therefore a malleable or "deniable" one?

  • Why.
  • Simply but that we really are... ...not alone, reader! Take a moment to let that sink in...
  • This causes the unelected leadership to re-consider and revamp its self-serving by-laws, codices, and rules. This is something they are loath, even if understandably, to do. No one wants to redo work thought done... ...A pox upon them for their self-serving infidelity.
  • Moreover, the very idea of an intellectual "solitude" in the multiverse, it's found, is ludicrous and wasteful. That root idea as expressed has a potentiality so close to zero that you'd win a dozen lotteries before arriving in a universe where the aforementioned "ludicrous" was still, remotely, possible! Truth, I suspect.
  • Forget the, too constrained, Drake Equation! Dr. Amir D. Aczel, a Massachusetts University mathematics professor and author of ...Probability 1... (about a minute in on James Fox's Out of the Blue documentary) shows that the likelihood of an *other* is so close to 100% (a decimal followed by an unending succession of "9"s), that its ultimate value is indistinguishable from one chance... one!
  • Reader! Indistinguishable! One hundred percent!
  • Remember too, truth-seeker, that humanity itself is its own proof positive that the *other* exists... it's own proof of concept! How does that work?
  • Here it is: Nothing that can happen at all... ...happens just once, reader! Not in this universe.
  • If it's happened "once"...?'s happened a million times.
  • We "happened..." Verily.
  • With regard to Fermi's Paradox? Where are they? Where are these *others*, then?
  • Well, seven categories of very compelling evidence, evidence enduring every risible and highly organized effort to deride, dismiss, and despoil same... ...says... ...*they (plural is obvious)*... ...are here! Run off into the forest screaming, now... I'll wait for you to come back...
  • [...Jeopardy Music plays...]
  • ...What does the preceding mean to you? Outside of being removed from the playpen and given the supervised run of the *house* (...cosmic neighborhood/suburb/state/nation...planet?)? Not a damned thing! You can stay in the pen!
  • ...Yes, you can remain in your straining status of imagined cultural stasis, watch the fly-ridden and increasingly fetid feces-piles stack up in somebody else's corner, endure that which is shoveled down upon you, yourself... get increasingly more sick and infirm and then... ...and then expire gracelessly in a misery so profound that Greek-like tragedies would be penned, ultimately, in mournful remembrance of it... great legacy for the kids, eh?
  • ...Don't think they don't know it, either.
  • The alternative?
  • Well, that's summed up in spreading your arms, neatly cleaving your heavens... ...then deliberately soaring to a spot far in advance of what the "crib-dwellers" keep so far away from them to their fronts...reader. What you'll be perceiving, yourself, as left far behind.
  • Behind is the toxic afterbirth of our tortured spawning.
  • Ahead? A universe of potentiality, profundity... permission—dammit... a responsibility!—to explore these things as an intimation of our conjectured immortality.
  • You choose for humanity, reader. Alone sullenly masturbating in a stifling closet quickly filling with your own fecal matter, or making a productive and multi-faceted intercourse with a galaxy of *other* beings... ...the evidence says are there... and already interacting with us! What's it going to be?
  • The concrescence LOOMS, folks!
  • Consider. Even in the dim, dim unlikelihood that we were alone, reader. We're much better served by functioning culturally in a manner like we were not. Be that as it may, our largest humility with regard to the matter would NOT be unjustified.
  • ...Think that alien just conjectured doesn't realize Cetaceans are people
  • Restore John Ford, but read on.

Sunday, February 13, 2011

...Pride Contrived...

Whither MUFON?

How can they get all hard-nosed and act like they've the plan? They pretend their circumspection; their pretence is they've command.  See, "understanding" is forthcomingness, progression to a goal.  MUFON spews mendaciousness, and that's the way they've rolled.

These propound a faith on models; they're a tricky paradigm — and lord help those who won't buy in. These prescribe you'd lost your mind!  You're cast upon the waters, you're pushed out on a floe for questioning direction and the way things "ought to go."

Too, forget about due process and accusers ever faced!  Forget about an audit path of which there is no trace.  Forget about collegiates who'd aspire greater goals than that business which is usual with the data down black holes!

I care not for their "fence side, Sir"! These make the errant struggle!  They'll be damned as they're elitest! When I can I'll pop their bubble!

I despise this! I abhor this! They have sold us out for peanuts! Where they suckle teats of privilege? They confirm their lack of genius!

These live contrived and pleasant lies; they're safe behind their walls; they're owning their own lawyers, so they're knowing all the *stalls*. If things get hot, they're slick as snot ... they've *dirty tricks* brigades! You can count on their discretion ... just as long as they are paid?

You can *shut away* what scares you, 'til your eyes shan't see what's there! You can have a little *drinkie*, and pretend that you're not scared! You can roll in squalid flesh piles if that rings your tiny bell. You can run from all your nightmares, *pray* to gods providing hell...

...Why, if it's not your precious *property*, or a *fair-won* trophy wife? Then it really shan't concern you. It can't freshen up your life. It won't fatten your account. It won't land you on your feet ... so what’s the bleedin' point, you *reason*? Why not make your life "complete"!


"So tell me, precious 'Poet Boy'," these smirk their angered sneer,
"...Just what in hell would you give out, you whining, leftist queer"!
"What's your *gallant* sacrifice; what do you give up.
What do you contribute"? He drops his 'Cuban' in my cup.

"With the *big bucks*? You're no different," and he shoots his silken cuffs.
"...You believe in UFO's"!! that would be enough.
"You're a nut case! You're a bonehead! You're a liberal bleeding heart.
You whine your stupid spewage that is off *my mainstream* charts!
You badmouth lauded Science... which has given us the power...
to tame this world with human will"! He stands there (...small!), and glowers!


...I'm a soldier and a teacher; I give and get respect. I've always shot for excellence if my reach exceeds my grasp. I pay my way; I drive small cars; I'll not abuse advantage... of a system, or a program, or a human — do them damage.

I've always been of service, and I've worked the harder jobs. And I've learned about the women I must give respectful nods. My wife? She drives a school bus. My son is not in jail. My friends? I think they love me, and them I shall not fail!

My charged *belief* in UFO's is strictly common sense. I've seen them, leering MUFON, if you can't? It's 'cause you're dense.

My wage? It's near the bottom when compared the least of you, but I would give up everything — as long as you did, too.

So, BE NOT PROUD, Oh MUFON, that you betray "the Earth," that you use us like your garbage can, and treat adherents worse. Your position's NOT that lofty, 'cause you're *clever* to betray, never asking who'll be paying as you make your facile play.

  • ...This is not forgetting that less is more. It's true! And there's real comfort in that. See, the less MUFON squeezes the less of us are squeezed out through its gauntleted fingers.  Moreover, we could accommodate ourselves ufologically while living richer, fuller, more healthful, and more satisfying lives. It's a choice actually.

  • I submit that a serious study of the ufological... a cultural top down admission that we're in kindergarten and have significant growing up to do is best course, best idea, and best practice.  The antithesis is to urinate opposed to the meteorological disturbance extant. C'mon, read that last sentence again.  MUFON would seem to work apart from from the efficacious in the preceding and perform that opposition described.

  • There is absolutely no one good reason why general life should harmfully raise your blood pressure and with such tedious regularity, too. It begs the question why it does.  Causing this high pressure may be a lack of common courtesy or the remotest due process too often displayed in the activities surrounding us. Why, MUFON lately provided for a wholesale Saturday night massacre of females (et sig al) from their leadership positions sans the remotest smidgion of such.

  • Does an increasingly irrelevant MUFON demonstrate that it has become completely unconscionable, inconsolably unaccountable, and wholly contemptible? Outrageous even?

  • The answer to that question cuts across the proclivities of corrupt governments elected and non-elected, duplicitous institutions over-facilitating their bottom line, evil agencies of criminality without oversight as accomplice, and all this leavened with cynically authoritarian religions without real conscience, compassion or genuine respect for the individuals they otherwise manipulate, chump, and coerce!  Does MUFON complete its transformation into this kind of entity?

  • Prepare to be invalidated by those self-same individuals for whom you'd  have no respect, soulless MUFON corporatists... scabrous and psychopathic disrespectful! The end of your legislated sociopathy must be inexorable and well nigh, so wholly explaining the autocratic and unilateral activity on your part! Do these provide for liquidity in their "portfolios"?

  • What's this to do with UFOs? Everything.

  • It's what the future is. Verily. Think not?  Jacques Vallee, current grand darling of the "it ain't what you could think," crowd—a crowd insisting on science as default arbiter—allows, even, that science must account for the "mechanism" that is the UFO, and the adjacent, alternate, or extra intelligence, wholly other, that the UFO must intimate... and without regard to provenance of that UFO too, from trans-temporal, through xenocryptic, to extraterrestrial.  An "other" exists "apart," employing a "technology."  Cop to that.

  • See, the future is the enecitable extension of the past, reader. The past, in its turn, is riddled, very conservatively... soaked, imbued, permeated, saturated, and infused with a clear history of the UFO... ...unmistakable encounters with the wholly *other*.

  • Peter Jennings said just before he died that official acknowledgement of same was unsatisfactory. His language was more harsh, actually. He said "rotten."

  • Too many quality instruments are making too many quality observations, reader. This is forgetting the reportage in old ink and more ancient stone, remember. Denial is ludicrous.  Where has MUFON been but allegedly collecting information they've done nothing with... for decades!

  • An intelligent *other* is obvious. Also obvious is MUFONs aggregate titular cowardice with regard to its conduct. Yes. Accusations of fatuous cowardice and general infidelity are not remotely out of line!

  • Alternative behavior with regard to the preceding is the effrontery of the presumption we are the first intelligence ever... (pause for laughter) when that is very conservatively unlikely in the first place... ...and badly executing, if true, in the second! Pompous and presumptuous pathetics please move to the shallow end of the gene pool. Volunteer for sterilization, even, so your genetic contribution can be more effectively cauterized from the species. You're not helping this is to say.. 

  • The rest apart from MUFON? These keep looking up! These transmit or radiate an ardent desire, clear intent and brave acceptance... (some freaking humility?) even humanity ...and... ...soon, I suspect, that future will snatch them up to grandly soar and cleave the heavens... leaving far behind what officious others perceive far in front of them... ...if those perceptions can be made by them, at all. 

  • Yeah!  Existential "Rapture" for the few who didn't buy into the hijacked mainstream and scurrilous status quo... its illegitimate governments, its dark agencies... its dogmatic religions and reptillian corporate institutions! Perhaps... it's my intuition at any rate.

  • Realization of all of the preceding is a matter of will, reader, you think it hard enough... ...and it is so. Heaven or Hell. Reality is the state of mind.  MUFON continues the pretense that it has relevance in the definition of the state.

  • Restore John Ford!  Don't wait for MUFON.

...I'm a soldier and a teacher; I give and get respect. I've always shot for excellence if my reach exceeds my grasp. I pay my way; I drive small cars; I'll not abuse advantage... of a system, or a program, or a human — do them damage.