What's another hurdle has the *saucer* people fretting while observing what may come to be our fate? It's the treatment of our children in the squalid little classrooms where we teach our party-lines to kids betrayed!
Half-truths and distortions fill our books all out of date, and kids wallow in this fantasy pursued 'til it's too late! See, It's text from too few publishers—it's fundamental Christians; it's chiseled moms and dads who pay the freight for smug decisions!
Yeah, it's these damp and rotting classrooms where we've sown what we will reap! They're designed to make kids hate them, if you haven't made the leap! Staffed by "worried nervous" who are loath to "light a fuse," the "teachers" are expendable, so it's them who turns those screws!
Almost like it's built to fail—creating the delinquent ...burn them from the middle class to fill ones corporate prisons? Keep them skill-less and belligerent so they earn a lessor pay; keep them hopeless and indifferent; have them grovel; make them pray?
...Contrive their educations so there is no *education* (to discern, as such, some quality... you could say); give them grades to fill the job-fairs for the "dead-end service worker" that the corporate boys "provide..." for lesser pay?
Then, the insult of our nation, the 'man' is selling education... ...which would keep folks from the meanest kinds of work. It's big bucks to go to college, so the masses never go; that's reserved for Buzz and Skippy, and forget the working Joe! Dependant on the money—stuff that's in "some short supply"—well served is corporate welfare where so few can live so high.
The *watchers* watch us legislate this "...conscious disrespect," grasping talons of the *rights* of priests and kings. So, they wonder if we're sensing we're consuming all our "seed corn"—that we will the grand disaster that this brings!
Do they marvel on our "process"—our unmitigated gall... to rob a blighted "Peter" ... to pay a rich, benighted "Paul." Do they further ponder thinking, as we make this "trigger pull," why we're truly so disordered, wanting honor, and so dull!
Yes, it's how we treat our children ... keeps the saucer folk obscured! It's our "game plan" of indifference, then, to which we are inured. It's our wanton lack of horse-sense as we use our kids for grease... to lube the tracks of profit for the few who do the least!
The saucers do not judge us but continue their "recording," as they dodge about, and blink out in the sky. It's us'll do the judging when we read it sometime hence, and there won't be much to laugh at—and too much to make us cry...
- The joy, of course, after that cleansing initial sorrow? It will be indescribable! We'll share that joy and it will be increased even as any further misery is proportionally and invariably decreased. My intuition is that such is the nature of things.
- ...What's "trigger pull"?
- Well, succinctly, it's the act of pulling a gun trigger. A combat veteran, I've adequate experience with the concept and consequences of same. See, "trigger pull" is the line of demarcation between the actuality of "before one pulls the trigger" and "after one pulls the trigger." Between these two concepts is the thing achieving the formality of actual occurrence, or, the "trigger pull." "Formality of actual occurence" is a key concept.
- Before one pulls a trigger, one has an egg. After one pulls the trigger one has a fried egg... one shan't un-fry an egg, eh? In turn, it seems that many times a dud is the preferred round. See, a fried egg's fried ever-after.
- It's like sex, in a way, too. "Before" is a teasing itch. "During" is, trigger pulled, that itch deliciously scratched. "After" is having to live ever after with the consequences of that scratched itch. Pregnancy perhaps, Disease perhaps, Embarrassment perhaps, Violence perhaps, Loss of trust, family, and property... Pecuniary liability... Guilt... the downside is legion, even fatal, eh? The upside...?
- I pulled a regretted trigger once in combat haunting me to this day. Combat is no excuse. I killed because I wanted to kill, lusted to kill, before... then during... with absolutely no thought to the ever after. The ongoing "After" is all that remains. Had I known...
- Southeast of Ho Chi Minh City (then Saigon) in late 1970 there was a small if inexplicable out-cropping of rock amidst the paddies with a small cave mouth ensconced in the south side of it. Perhaps a Holy place, it could have been there since the beginning of time. "Charlie," (an affection for "Cong": used to dehumanize fellow humans like "Gook" or "Slope") was supposed to be in there. An Aircraft Commander for the 135th Assault Helicopter Company, I'd flown a Special Forces team in by UH-1 to deal with the "problem."
- The team leader, a Sergeant First Class with three tours in country—he liked it—asked me if I wanted a "piece." Misery does love company, eh? I, too eagerly, accepted and spent the better part of an hour chunking M-40 grenades into the cave mouth with an M-79 .
- Good times were had by all. We cooked up some "C"s and told war stories. I must have put 30 rounds into the small cave mouth before somebody went over to have a look... Worryingly, there had been no expected secondary explosions.
- Finally, one of the team's "Tunnel Rats" went in to see, at last dragging out a badly chewed-up teen aged boy. No weapons were found... Want, lust, and eagerness evaporated pretty quickly, reader, and I am tormented still.
- Finding out we were lied into that war, too? The torment and regret only gets worse. I flew back to my presently erased base camp at Di An not at all the same young man flying out.
- There were consequences to my actions that I'd not considered beforehand, see? Fried eggs remain fried, remember. I stayed in the Army as it turned out and was assiduous about that lesson to superiors, contemporaries, and subordinates alike, thereon, for the remainder of a 23 year career.
- Think before you pull the trigger. The "before" and "during" are many times too well trumped by the eternal "after."
Restore John Ford!