Saturday, July 20, 2013

...No One Home...

Nothing is happening, 
has happened, or will
and little precludes us 
from climbing our "hill"
—as the "field" is level 
on which we all play, 
and a loss on its surface 
is righteous and plain.
Our government's moral and shoots a straight line; 
our churches the ticket to heaven sublime, 
while we have pro-sports for the truth that it brings 
as our *balls* charge about on a throw or a swing.
We've *rules* we've emplaced, and they're justified too. 
They cut the same way for the rich and poor, true!
Too, we are a people who don't get confused
"tough love" for our brothers and sisters bemused.
We are best served by police institutions, 
enforcement of law is a quick execution
and science becomes us—so noble it glistens—
prisons get filled by its crisp impositions.
The rich don't get richer, 
they earn what they'd take! 
...And nothing is hidden, 
abstruse, or been faked! 
The claims of the fringe 
raise a frivolous fuss
no proof of "conspiracy" 
... "abuses of trust"!
All is as well as is well as can be...
and the truth of this fact is what we, in fact, see! 
We're upright and moral and clear in our eye, 
and we're fairevenhanded, up front... and don't lie!
Conspiracy's ground from the shells of its nuts! 
Liberals quibble then prove they've no guts! 
Your water is clean and the air to be breathed 
is as free of pollution as it's free of disease!
The Earth is not warming to threaten our poles. 
The hole in the ozone is blown from ones nose! 
Virgin forests remain to be used in due course; 
Our Bible has promised! Earth's our resource.
UFO's fabled, or seen to this day 
would have natural causes explained well away, 
and exploited for gain by mere thieves from the fringe
—these prey on the gullible and drive them unhinged! 
This stands as a symbol for weakness—in kind—
as a loss of ones sanity or ones rational mind! 
These claims are ALL bogus and shan't stand the scrutiny 
which nurtures conditions to lead this cult's mutiny!
We are ALONE in an aggregate sense! 
We're not detected—and "ETs" are nonsense. 
WE stand apart from the natural sphere; 
this MARKS our proud mandate to prosecute queers!
See? We are the jewel 
in our crown of creation. 
None have achieved 
all the glory we're paid. 
We can depend 
on ourselves and God's mission 
to keep us on courses 
for which we were MADE!
We have rejected the pagans and devils. 
We know a God that is loving and grateful
We are a race with a strong healthy visage, 
so we are best served by a God... our image!
We have a *true* faith unblemished and sane, 
and it's made from a cloth we MUST sing in refrain! 
Intolerance serves us (to keep our strain pure!), 
and our ethics condone it—of that we are SURE
It's our faith and our trust in our Fathers (inured) 
that our mores reflect what "the man" does is—pure!
We have been BLAMELESS, and we have been FAIR. 
We've been COURAGEOUS! What's true is declared! 
Too, we had the vision, the talent, and drive to wrest 
from cruel nature what allows us to thrive!
We are the champions! There's naught before us
We *earn* what we take, and so take it we must... 
as our clocks do the ticking for us all alone; 
there's no one else out there; there's no one else—home.

If you believe any part of the preceding I have some choice plots on the *dark* side of the moon I'd like to interest you in... go, and once there, verily, stay.  A person using the totem above as support and cudgel above fills me with revulsion and disgust.  The Trust-funders Koch brothers would revel in every line as right true and just.  Though where's it writ large that that men can inherit huge wealth and abuse the poor by right?  Not around me where I can help it.

...But seriously, truer than not (?) ... everything we "know" is wrongmistaken, misunderstood, misguided ... imprudent, erroneous, injudicious, incorrect, or wrongly perceived. My poem is a sardonic portrait of my opposition's self-involved prosecution of their very real sociopathy.  It is self-hating as much as people hating.

Currently, fueled by a hubris as bloated as it is unfounded, too many—too quickly made—assumptions conveniently precipitate to elitist impiety, intellectual impotence, and an ethical impropriety: three strikes, then irrelevance.  Then comes arrogance, self-importance, and a huge destructive conceit. Next thing you know?

Why... ...lying to oneself becomes deriguerre and the order of the day... right and proper!  Satisfactions based on such become harder and harder to achieve and despair becomes the only condition celebrated.

Consider, *S*cientists lately bestow a current wisdom that, but for a propitiously convenient moon?  The Earth would stumble around on its axis like a fat drunken friar. This is to suggest another "reason" for our rarity in the universe—another inflating variable one must add to the Drake equation to push even the idea of ET—the obvious and ubiquitous "other"— further and further away.

...If the case in fact?  Then, should there not be evidence for similar rotational frivolities from the planets Venus and Mars? These are, indeed, two easily observable planetary examples which lack such a stabilizing moon as ours!  Too, there's the, I'm betting, errant presumption by theorists that mere stability is compelling enough to facilitate the life process.  I suspect that unknown associative aspects of the moon upon its planet provides for moons a little more creative than are lectured, eh?  I offer that's the safer bet: that we have no freakin' idea.

They are either tumbling or they are not, so do try to keep an undeserved and self-revealing sneer out of any answers, can't you, you scientisticly (sic) scabrous skeptibunky swine? No, not name-calling, booby! Assessment!

To those trifling persons pretending they "don't get it" so as to buffer, imo, their cowardly facade—or pretense—of a "confident" rationality?  All appropriate respect to you along with my condolences.  It remains, sadly, the practitioners of my sardonic poem above—a poem describing evil in its most duplicitous and misleading form—can just piss off.

Regarding claims concerning my accused dearth of clarity. Actually, I'm clear as crystal while still remaining remotely civil. Moreover, my civility is an affectation I find increasingly more difficult to extend into the ufological debate, eh? See, even as I indicate my contention that you just go to hell, I'd aspire to an explication such that you also... enjoy the trip.

It remains, presently, I don't have any reflex respect for nor will I easily validate your presumptively duplicitous, I suspect inherently mendacious, and finally ironically regressive paradigm; a rabid mindset filling me with a revulsion so profound I'd rather give Dick Cheney a tongue bath than suffer its least noxious imposition or weaseling meme. I trust this was clear enough? Everybody get that? DE? DB? GS? RR?

Don't humiliate yourself going all "wide-eyed" and "concerned" wondering "where the anger comes from" or why there has to be such drama! Such passion! It is because, good sir or madam, you choose to ask that very mocking question or express just that phony concern!

See, in the asking you prove you've had your head buried up your ass so far and for so long that you —or the best parts of you— have likely already expired in suffocation. Your facile concern for anger and drama does not mask your facilitation of that anger provoking the passion in the first place!  See? It's your behavior that's first offensive. Your authoritarian and unilateral, then autocratic and hypocritical double-standard regarding an unconscionable support for the few at the expense of the many enrages the empathetic non-psychopath! You sneer?

I sneer in turn. Your faith is not superior to mine. Your mores no more refined. Your ethics hold no higher moral ground. Your morality is no more righteous than my own. Frankly?

I perceive my tested faith immanent and superior, my mores vastly more refined, my ethics comparatively higher-grounded, with a morality decidedly more righteous that my leadership's, my society's, any institution's, corporate body's, agency's... yours frankly—my whole culture's when it comes to it.

But wait!  I am an individual who did what he said he was going to do, who stood tall when called to crisis, who stood against that which required its opposition when it was dangerous to do so. I look at the governing and leadership bodies aforementioned and assess them by the same rubric with which they would assess me. I find them, the same swindling swine alluded to in the poetry above, wanting at best—criminal at worst.

Show me your government, your institution, your corporatism, your agency, your bureaucracy — your church... and I'll show you a collection of sorry psychopathic entities, in the aggregate, which are unflatteringly assessed by the fruit that they produce, only. Verily, the good that they do interred with their bones, as the evil they do lives on and on. Moreover, these entities betray the aspirations of the past even as they betray the trust of persons in present day. Insult added to injury? These clear criminals will skate clear of recrimination—seemingly above the law.

That's just not to be tolerated...

What to do then? I must have an answer, eh? All this whining and complaining must have some kind of alternative "Dodge-cleaning" apparatus, putting these iterated problems to rest straight away—a way to expiate the anger and drama. Right?

"Cosi-Cosa," pilgrim!

Moreover, I don't have to have written the entire alternative score to criticize same, especially when the only one dancing is Dolores Umbridge—Argus Filch's sweaty and accommodating paw on her blubbery ass. Though, I'll certainly contribute humbly to the thinking on a new melody. Too, respect reflexively denied shall be pulled from the niggardly marrow of the offender's literary bones.  See, it is not about finding answers to problems, it's about facing the answers that are already there.

Sorry not, I prefer Mozart to banging trashcan lids and won't succumb to the dictates or prerogatives of a Western-biased world view. I won't bow to its self-serving logic, its inappropriate arrogance, its unearned hubris... ...and its exclusively Cartesian artlessness— without a fight! Rather, I'll hoist the black flag as appropriate, board hubristic ships, and cut the obligatory literary throat as I must with nothing for which I should be remotely sorry. "Dexter" in the literary flesh. No apologies, it seems to be the muse dictated task at hand, if fate assigned.

More warning than ever given me; buckle in. Prosecutors of the poem above, gird your flaccid loins.

Restore John Ford!