Justification

Critical Prose & Poetic Commentary regarding UFOs and their astonishing ancillaries, consciousness & conspiracy, plus a proud sufferer of orthorexia nervosa since 2005!

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, July 01, 2012

...Spark Of Hope...

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Johnny Ford—still locked away? Still kept from freedom's dawn, you say! ...Still eating tasteless gruel he's served with hapless ladles crusted, lurid...
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Bullied by some cell block thug, he's driven down with slaps and slugs? Remember, he's a cop to them, a target for the fix they're in, and sleeping on his fetid mattress, he lays awake and smells the madness; bad enough if he deserved it—UNBEARABLE, he didn't earn it!
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...And he didn't, I'd suspect. For "law" and "order"? He'd had respect. ...And there was irony, sharp and quick, that Ford's accuser was the prick! See? Ford should not be doing time! It's one John Powell committed crime!
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...Crimped and weak Ford's fingers curl around the bars that cage a hero? Damn that sinful, unjust steel removes him from the free and real!
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What's he doing, how's he hangin', listening to a cup put bangin' from some distance he can't get to—he's restricted, tied—denied you! You won't hear what he might say. It questions ways you'd think, OK? See? You got tired, and with no emotion (basing such on foolish notions) condemned a *saint* to thick brick walls while mayhem, outside, howls and crawls!
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Still and all, and not a peep... of John Ford's status—such vast conceit! You think that he's forgotten, lost, that he has come to bear the cost of what it WAS that he got close to—let licking flames of shame engulf you!
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You think that it is unremembered, you called him *crazy*, then reconsidered? He's well enough for trial, you say? Well—when's he going to have his day? And there's the rub, you craven bastard! You won't hear his harmful answers! His trial might embarrass you, but worse than that—the death of you!
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It's gone on now for sixteen years!  That gadfly Ford you've tried to steer? Quiet now within his cell, but bet he has a tale to tell!  ...And he will be, at least, litigious, and, in that way be most prodigious!  That's what Joe Zuppardo claims while speaking out and naming names.
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You'd argue that I "feed his madness" when it's you produced his sadness—slandered him and took his name; I hope that, soon, YOU'RE made to blame.
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Everyone is most surprised that he'd contrive what you've described! All who know him, friend or foe, all know that he was framed as though... a mad man walked inside his clothesbecause he looked for UFO's!?!
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Your case is stupid, uninspired... a contrivance you have made—conspired! ...And getting older by the minute, hard to prove the way you spin it.
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...Maybe, hoping soon he'll die! ...Maybe, help him make his try!?!
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Yea, if he dies in jail friend, I'll know YOU did it—comprehend!?! That he's there is YOUR disgrace; I'll hope to see you take his place... among those inmates of contrition—those deserving their positions.
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Months, and we have had no news that's news about John Ford, in view. The reason for that silence glares, and challenges with steady stares reluctant to speak up one word... where freedom is, in fact, deterred!
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But is that freedom you can cherish? So quickly lost, so quick to perish—evaporating like a dew on desert flowers. Yes, it's true.
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When we are at, as much, a risk to not speak out, then, sharp and quick, to bellows of these arbitrarythese tyrannous or darkly scary! Let them bring just one down low, and they're emboldeneddon't you know? Then it's us they finally get to, our freedom a mere sucker's bet, too... at the whim of your convenience to make me live your inconvenience!
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You don't get it, that's your error! John is you; he lives YOUR terror. YOU'RE the one interred alive. YOU'RE the one in jail, Clyde!
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It's YOU who's eating awful food. It's YOU forsaken, betrayed—abused! It's you without a spark of hope! It's you who lives John's tragic joke!
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It's you who lives a life despised as harmful vermin—all contrived! It's you who shuffles for the man from cell to yard, to hall—all planned. It's you without a moment's peace, it's you who's driven to your knees! It's you who suffers needlessly. It's YOU in torment—YOU not free!
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Just lately there's a spark of hope... that hope is more than mere soft soap... some promise that the end is near for Suffolk County's reign of fear.  That justice might be done at last... at least as far as Ford is cast; and he's released to reinstate his RESTORATION, not too late!



Misery!






Yes, you.

No, no, not *you*, don't be foolish, how could it be *you*? ...

...But _you_... now _you're_ a whole other toxic bag of lurid excrescence... _altogether_!

You are as beyond guilt as you are shame! May I live to see your eventual comeuppance and anticipated demise!

Even now I suspect you're feeling a growing dread that you "backed the wrong dark horse" and you're not going to get away with it, after all. Blood runs colder than usual for Suffolk County psychopaths, I'd bet.

Sneer at _that_. You know who you are.

...Yo' John!  Be restored!


Grok In Fullness

Errol

Errol Bruce-Knapp, of UFO UpDates, Strange Days — Indeed, the Virtually Strange Network... ...and the coiner of the expression ...