Justification

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

Sunday, July 19, 2020

...Enduring Still...



.,¸¸,.»§«,¸¸,.·´¯`·.,¸¸,.»§«*¥*»§«,¸¸,.·´¯`·.,¸¸,.»§«·.,¸¸,.
.,¸¸,.»§«,¸¸,.·´¯`·.,¸¸,.»§«*¥*»§«,¸¸,.·´¯`·.,¸¸,.»§«·.,¸¸,.

Alone in listening silence once, 
in the dark, dark deep of space 
(I'm speaking metaphorically; 
this is no report or trace), 
I saw a tiny point of light 
a little brighter than before 
so I pushed the button to it, 
and I walked right in its door.

It was the old "Rense" program, 
and my software let me in. 
I float in streaming audio 
as the story, then, begins...

I'd never heard Velez before, 
and though he didn't speak for me? 
His message made the plainest sense 
we all might try to see. 
He came across so affable, 
when he should be quite insane
If half the things he said occurred 
... I'd be, as such... "constrained"!

I have it on authority. 
I'm not just flying blind
I've interviewed some principals
this man is quite refined. 
Integrity's impeccable, 
he's loved by whom he's close. 
And he'd not choose the circumstance, 
but beat the drum that chose...

How he holds it all together 
in a manner so reserved, 
when fate has dealt 
such dreadful cards ... 
how is he undeterred? 
How does he keep his lip so stiff? 
How does he stay his fray? 
How does he hold the threads so well... 
what has shattered and betrayed?

He's calming, more than lucid, 
yet he gestures towards the "dark"
He'd have us throw some light that way! 
He'd ask some questions! Hark!

His questions are *unpopular*: 
At the whim of unguessed forces... 
...we're as bugs beneath the slashing hoofs 
of herds of cosmic horses
We shall not see them coming, 
and the terror he alludes 
we could, sure, be more prepared for
but our cowardice intrudes?

Distracted by our cars, and stuff
we wallow in the mire 
of that which makes us senseless
throwing water on our fire? 

Dejected by the mainstream, 
and displaced by "honored science," 
we're sold a bill of harmful goods 
we give our vain reliance? 
"Doc" Jacobs claims "it's very bad"; 
Mr. Hopkins says "intruder," 
but John Velez, like Mack I think, 
is more their "disabuser"!

"It happens, friends and neighbors, 
twixt the lines," I heard him say. 
"Keep our heads in this insanity? 
We will live to save the day! 
Keep on laughing, and collecting, 
and cooperate together ... 
don't succumb to 'knee jerks,' 
questioned answers will be better."

He spoke with rare consuming grace, 
a brightness not denied ... 
even Rense got warm and fuzzy, 
and the program was sublime. 

I know some folk who listened twice, 
and tried to find the *bull-shit* 
... looked for cult of personality, 
and other stuff that wouldn't fit 
... looked for fallacy in thinking, 
looked for logic unrefined ... 
but John Velez would come up clean; 
his truth seemed uncontrived.

I wish he lived next door to me. 
I'd feel, somehow, safer! 
I think that I could like him, 
I think he'd make me braver. 
I could check with his commitment, 
I'd compare my notes with his. 
And we'd both be better for it... 
a little closer to what "is."
John Velez' "...See That"?

  • John Velez has more good neighbor potential than James Dobson, Newt Gingrich, or Glenn Beck—combined, which does not seem such a hard sell on its face until the irony is considered! How is it that three mainstream stalwarts of cultural pulchritude are so handily bested by an aging hippie, fusion percussionist, artist, and former poppy addict? But "bested" is an "obvious," reader. Verily. John towers above these three, on any level and at all indices.
  • ...It remains, though, that he's gonna have to come down here to live! Somebody stole my camera (a half-frame Olympus Pen F) on a visit to his city in 1973, and STILL it pays! I want my camera, bag, and lenses back, New York!
  • Long ago on SDI (07-08-06), John Velez—uncomplicated acceptor of sincere hugs from complete strangers—was sadly underrepresented and sorely missed in a ufological free-form fray that was the 400th iteration of that, damn-it, cutting edge program... penetrating program, finally, efficaciously enduring program, forgetting of course "missed" program... it's gone now with the late Errol Bruce Knapp...
  • John was compelled, instead, to practice the timeless art of that almost mystical entity know as a New York City Cab Driver. Otherwise his appearance on the program would have been a rare treat.
  • ...Think of the cab-driving "ghost of Christmas past" in Bill Murray's "Scrooged." Pretty damned magical, and what a driver. Tran-spatial ... Inter-temporal ... Multi-Dimensional. A cool ride by any name and at any speed!
  • See... ...John was ufological before ufological was *cool*... ...before the ufology became a focal point, not for mal-impassioned net-loons, public whack-oids, and insincere crystal-squeezers rushing in to fill the knowledge void facilitated by a corrupt and duplicitous main-stream society... [don't get me started] ...but the gassy avians, scurrilous skeptibunkies, and conflicted klasskurtxians, these institutionalized and inculcated by that same society... to undercut and marginalize UFOs and the inquiry into them. This writer says true.
  • John is/was a worthy combatant in the aforementioned struggle. Only, if ufology was ham and eggs, John was the ham. Eggs are a survivable investment. Ham is a sacrifice of the irreplaceable.
  • Moreover, John Velez is one of those persons who at great personal cost, as has always been the way of it, helped to ensure, along with significant others, that a ufology, against all odds and despite *learned* dismissals, *furious* derisions, and *reflex* denials... of fatuous radio "Shock Jocks" and others already alluded to... ...endures still.
  • That's right. Endures still. Thank you, Mr. Velez, for helping to facilitate this... ... this concrescence of eventual disclosure looming before us all unrecognized, if looming still... our intuited improvement by the acknowledgment of same ...howsoever "it" manifests itself in the very near term.
  • Thank you John.
  • Thank you John.
  • Thank you John! Truth serves, and verily!

Monday, July 06, 2020

Dirt Road Disasters

"On the road, redux..."
Dirt Road Disasters
...A Real Hershey Highway
Of Political Ineptitude and
Philosophical Incontinence


by Alfred Lehmberg


Who is Donald John TЯUMP? Who has he been, who is he now, and who will he be? Astonishingly and ironically, we were well aware of who he had been, and well before the fact! Who he is now is obvious to casual observation. Consequently, who he’s going to be will get no odds from any bookie. Certitude is such as that.


The President* is anointed by all God’s blessing and chosen of the Prosperity Christ and his host of GOP acolytes (those glad grinners wallowing oceans of NRA money and the largess of billionaires as psychotic as they are psychopathic) to be the, [...wait for it...] "President."* That's the Party line.

TЯUMP’s path to political insentience, though, is paved with explicable and factual stones of disconsolate, disastrous, and deconstructive tediousness! Evil especially banal. 

Mendacious hypocrisies trifle the grout around these stones to provide a dangerous and sickening shifting of them around one's unsteady feet… turned ankles are ever a threat and locomotion is impeded … but that their path is decidedly "downward" is crystal clear. It paints, verily, a road to an avoidable ruin. 

Inexplicably, we knew this snake. ...And yet pick him up we did, still. 

We had 2020 foresight... and blew it! That could not be an accident... Consider Jimmy Comey's last-ditch offering of BUPKIS, reader, but addressing Hilly's f'n E-mails, one more time, just days before the election... (Thanks for that, Jimmy m'lad! You may have destroyed America!)

Still, Let’s try to provide for more 2020 foresight, perhaps, and examine a few of these road stones, in turn. Re-warned can be forearmed! Beware! One is as disappointing and inopportune as the next. Watch your footing! We can scrape the footwear with sticks, later on.

Here’s one [the writer picks up a stone oozing something viscous and yet still a'crumble]: TЯUMP... A self-proclaimed super-patriot and a ready espouser that a supposed threat of venereal disease from super-models was his personal stand-in for the conflict in Viet Nam... TЯUMP faked a disqualifying disability 5 times to avoid a war he did not even oppose

Substituted were five (poor) young men to fight and perhaps even die in his place. That has to be, sloughing the mortal coil, worth some hard time in Purgatory, anyway, right there... even from a hyper-Religulous point of view.

Here’s another path-stone. Remember those boys going off to fight in Donald’s place? Well, when they returned shell-shocked, suicidal, and fighting depression (but still not quite adding to the growing statistic of suicide), it was to join the ranks of the hapless homeless... which TЯUMP cruelly tried to have removed from 5th Avenue in New York, as “unsightly.”

When TЯUMP wasn’t increasing the suffering of homeless veterans squeezing blood from their stones, he was stealing from them via his fraudulent online “University.” Injury on top of insult, he lied about donating $1 million to veterans' nonprofits and initiatives. Later on, even in 2016 (!), he’d lie about donating $6 million to other veterans groups. What a prince!

How does he observe himself in the mirror, and how can we look at him? I know I have a problem with it. Mucous on a glass doorknob, it's always a clutch of breathtaking revulsion to hold him in regard.

Not finished with the military, reader, he said he’d make “his” troops actually commit war crimes, and they did! Later on, he would pardon one of those psychopathic monsters committing egregious war crimes, in actuality, and against all the advice of those first-persons testifying against and then convicting him in the first place! 

These would come to be called “The Cursed Platoon”; look it up. It’s TЯUMP in spades. After the review of the preceding link, the reader is instructed to remember that TЯUMP thought this monster was good to go. A roll-model. One to whom all soldiery should aspire…

This writer was a career soldier with a Bronze Star and four Meritorious Service Medals upon retirement. The aforementioned monster is no roll-model to which the soldier aspires. He is to soldiery what the anti-Christ is purported to be to the actual Christ! This writer says true.

Speaking of crimes, TЯUMP was also fined for purloining funds from a 2016 Vets fundraiser, and then, always the willing projector, he erroneously accused innocent US service members of stealing funds meant for Iraqi reconstruction. All this was, of course, wild blueberry road-apples. There was zero theft. It was just a distraction, a diffraction... a ham-handed deflection. It's what he does. A real lover of "his" troops!

The “Commander In Chief,”* TЯUMP generally and publicly called out “his” General grade officers, officers of decades experience and efficacy, for “dopes and babies,” advising any listener how much “more knowledgeable about military subjects” he is than they are. He has personally insulted, if not to their faces, Generals Allen, Mattis, Kelly, Powell, and McChrystal, and then for good measure, Purple Heart awardees Mueller and Vindman, plus Admiral McRaven

Closing out on the military he insulted POWs as those humiliated by “capture,” so "not really heroes." He preferred his heroes, “Uncaptured,” you see. PTSD sufferers were “weak losers” who just could not “take the stress,” presumably, as well as he could in their place!

It is hard to accept how badly he has offended Gold Star Families, anyway. ...But he should get an academy award for the employment of abject toxicity... just for what he said to Myeshia Johnson, the aggrieved widow of the late and ambushed Sgt. La David Johnson. It was beyond the pale and as tone-deaf as one would think.

A grasping pig, then accomplishment and valor thief, TЯUMP will frequently claim or take responsibility for ongoing acts, initiatives, and programs for which he was not, in any way, the provenance. He’s built nothing. Ever.

For instance, he falsely claimed he signed the Veteran's Choice Act into law when, no, he just refrained from impeding it, you know, the exact opposite of his usual activity! Consider, his usual schtick is along the lines of providing for the implosion of healthcare affecting 20 million American citizens in a pandemic… by killing the Affordable Health Care act via the Supreme Court? Yes. Verily. He's working that right this minute!

He has aggravated the suffering of soldiers and their families in other ways. He is trying to eliminate SNAP food assistance, for example. Few understand how much that hurts military families and veterans! Moreover, another torpedo below the American soldier’s water-line are TЯUMP's psychopathic budget initiatives seeking to slash Medicaid below acceptable and humane levels! A disaster for Vets!

He froze the pay for all Federal agencies via Executive Order, too. One recalls that the Federal workforce is 30% veteran, approximately 600 thousand veterans… ...then he dissolves regulations on predatory lenders who target military members as craven prey… This is just pure evil with no lipstick for its pig!

What kind of President sides with known enemy Totalitarian Nations: to always take their word against honored branches of military intelligence otherwise chartered to give the best-practice council regarding the security of the entire Nation... that they can? Maybe the same kind of President to erect senseless and ridiculous walls to an ally Nation, but destroy the public school system sending tax money to hyper-Religulous “educational” institutions!

Maybe he is the same kind of POTUS to Deploy 6000 soldiers to the Mexican border in a 2018 failed midterm election stunt…maybe the same to blow off the Veteran's Day ceremony in France because it was raining and the President* was worried about his hair and orange make-up...

Finally, advised so by competent intelligence, we discover that Vlad Putin is murdering US troops on contract with the Taliban. Only, TЯUMP is calling it a “hoax” and “fake news.” How is this even possible, and possible? Tolerated!

More stones on TЯUMP’s path to National oblivion? To start, he is the “billionaire” who hides his tax returns. It is clear that debt to foreign nationals erodes that “rich-man” status touted for years, and TЯUMP pays off on these obligations in manners traitorous and criminal and dissatisfyingly blackmailed? This writer suspects so. Consider the bizarre behavior of Senator #LeningradLindsey Graham!

TЯUMP is “a stable genius” who hides his college grades. A true genius is not fearful of the revealed chronicle of his accomplishments… but TЯUMP has threatened costly lawsuits (truly the only arrow in his meager quiver) if these grades are ever revealed. What happened to pride and proof of same? ...Then we discover he paid someone else to take his SATs! The swine!

TЯUMP is a “world-class businessman” who has bankrupted 3 casinos, declared bankruptcy numerous times, and then lost, at least (!), 1 Billion Dollars in 10 years! He then demonstrates that he is so bereft of competence that he even failed in selling red meat, alcohol, and casino gambling to Americans. To Americans!

TЯUMP is the “playboy” who pays for sex... sordid, perfunctory, and meaningless, like his imagination. Truly, maybe apart from "Mom"... he never met a woman that he didn’t, at best, patronize. He’s insulted, abused, or raped the rest. His violence has not been restricted to adult women…

TЯUMP is the “Christian” who does not go to church. ...But he will gas and flash-grenade a law-abiding citizenry to walk across the street to an unwelcoming Church! This is merely to brandish a Bible he has never read so as to masturbate the insensate sensibilities of his half-wit, horrific, and hyper-fundy base of flaccid-minded mucous swimmers! Real detestables, imbeciles, and deplorables! Yeah, these persons exist in spades; it is in no way elitist to recognize that.

Cutting to the chase, TЯUMP is the “philanthropist” who defrauds cancer charities for complementary oil paintings of a ludicrous and consummate gasbag, himself. What blistering gall!

TЯUMP is the “patriot” who won’t answer his Nations call to arms. Instead, he cashes a fraction of his privilege to become Brigader Faux-Bone-spurs! Say it! It's him!

TЯUMP is the “innocent man” who refuses to testify because he can’t open his mouth without lies and mendacity rolling out like fiber-poor fecal matter. He can't even fake a consistent testimony... senselessly contradicting himself every other sentence. A sensible person would just report to prison, sans trial.

TЯUMP is the “President” who takes no responsibility and shows only incompetence and self-interest. He is the evil narcissist's narcissist only interested in a story about him. 

TЯUMP is the “tough, strong man“ who wears makeup, hairspray, and adult diapers. He won't look Nancy Pelosi in the eye.

Finally, and ironically, TЯUMP is the “deal maker” who has yet to close a deal of any real consequence, importance, or constructiveness in a non-criminal world. He is a shameful sham and an unconscionable flake, as insentient as he is insensate and as psychopathic as he is treasonous. Treason? …Plain as the nose bitten off a spited face. He is our President.*

The Asterisked President!  

We have erred and erred hugely facilitating TЯUMP in any shape, way, manner, fashion, or form on a current pathattempting to make progress on the mucked and stinking trail of broken glass and uneven gavel he would take us down. His only supporters are supremacist sycophants and pork-lard-brained boogaloo-boys… insentient incels glad to believe toxic and self-masturbatory rumors while ignoring cited science and full-featured fact. These need the hose. Stupid has had its run.

Come November? We have an opportunity to take the saner more sure-footed path. Let us make that so. We are not served, none of us, keeping "Blacks," back. We are not rewarded, any of us, keeping "Browns," down. We're not elevated, in any way, steering the initiatives of righteous "Queers." We're not served, rewarded, or elevated keeping women in the rear and second tier! We know all this to be true... the worst of us, we know it! Comes a gylany!

VOTE! This writer will low crawl broken glass besmeared with suppurated Covidity to get to the polls! 

In closing, who is it in leadership insisting I be compelled to do just THAT... when I could safely, in a secure manner (more secure than those questionable "Russian" voting machines!), and sanely... VOTE BY MAIL! 

Read on!

"I'd burn this county down
to save my ass...
Believe it!"




Thursday, July 02, 2020

...Anthropomorphism's Malapropisms...




.,¸¸,.»§«,¸¸,.·´¯`·.,¸¸,.»§«*¥*»§«,¸¸,.·´¯`·.,¸¸,.»§«·.,¸¸,.


I've sensed wild dolphins "thinking
through a treasured friend of mine, 
though their meaning 
swam just in and out... 
of focus. 
You'd think you'd understood it, 
then so quickly it is found... 
*understanding
has some different kinds 
of locus.

Your top is inside out
and you find more room for doubt! 
Any "meaning" frankly crumbles... 
...in your hand. 
You are lost and incomplete... 
disadvantaged, sans receipt
and the values that you're missing 
you're not built to understand.

What follows? 
A portrayal...
 of a dolphin's unique thinking. 
A look inside the process 
of a "mind." 
It's not what you're expecting, 
likely off if you're detecting 
"understanding
in the *pictures* that you find...

So, see the "bigger picture."
See a forest for its trees.
...But remember that
the "bee's knees of creation"...
Is not what humans think...
we, who've led us to the brink
of dissolution, utter chaos,
and destruction...
...
...
[...Splash! ...Then...]
...
...
.,¸¸,.»§«,¸¸,.·´¯`·.,¸¸,.»§«*¥*»§«,¸¸,.·´¯`·.,¸¸,.»§«·.,¸¸,.
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 can "see" in ultrasound, 
that the water is her body 
makes my lover more profound.
We see undulating liquid ... 
it's the beating of our hearts.
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 

That we know the Truer God. 
The *mindless* ones 
are not about 
to suffer any folksters.
Those "senseless ones"

who live up-out 
are enigmatic youngsters.

Our mystery is the *human-being* 

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'd grok the blue...

...And fribble in the narb way, 

or mittle in the greeb,
and never, never 

slap their bill 
to growl a hapless neeb.
...Wouldn't it be rapture 

if they hammeled 
out their carns?
If they
leedled 

in the briny 
with their vornals 
in their slarns?
Is it feebled artful noffle

Or do they plother nobben 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 our 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...

Like, 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 shame! 
We make them strangely subject 
to the whims of our economy; 
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!


...With An *Other*...



  • Especially when no real *looking* is going on, right? No looking, inexplicably, even in this day of official admissions regarding current events from the US Navy. No looking ...except, of course, by an accepted minority of honest, talented, and largely concerned individuals. It remains that these individuals are decidedly apart from the mainstream and found in a deplored ufologist *fringe*. 

  • At least, good reader, as that "fringe" is characterized by those largely self-interested persons who profit in support of a dodgy klatch of errant souls caught under that VAST malapropism of... the mainstream! The mainstream: a mechanism of empowered psychopaths struggling furiously to profit the few at the clear expense of the many... ...and so not any kind of real society serving "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? Why, indeed. Wonder why we'd wonder that in a constructive crunch of metacognition...
  • Perhaps... it's simply but that we really are... ...not alone, reader! Take a moment to let that sink in... then reflect that these suggested entelechies may likely be worse news for the folks in charge and profiting than the folks inadequately charged and paying out too dearly.  Sure... they may eat our heads. They may improve and elevate our heads, too. Both or neither. Remains the future, right? That spins out regardless.
  • Official acknowledgment in the grand sense may even coerce the unadmitted unelected leadership to re-update, re-consider, and revamp its self-serving by-laws, codices, and rules, right? This is a nasty toil and an odious exercise if you weren't doing that as a matter of course... trying to officiate a sane and sensible society. Yeah... this is something they loathe, even if understandably, to do. No one wants to redo work thought done... ...Yet, a pox upon them for their self-serving infidelity and not performing same!
  • It's an intellectually self-serving solitude they crave. No exterior witnesses to their lurid non-constructive crimes...

  • Intellectual solitude? The very idea of an intellectual "solitude" in the multiverse, it's found in reflection, is ludicrous and wasteful... even obscene

  • Moreover, 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. There is no solitude! There never has been.
  • Forget, see, 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 film documentary) shows that the likelihood of an *other* is so close to 100% (a decimal followed by a near unending succession of "9"s), that its ultimate value is indistinguishable from one chance... ...in one! 100%
  • 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 in a nutshell: Nothing that can happen at all... ...happens just once, reader! Not in this universe.
  • If it's happened "once"...?...it's happened a million times... a billion 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 if 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*, *appliances*, and what-not (...cosmic neighborhood/suburb/state/nation...planet?)? Not a damned thing! You can stay in the play-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 misery so profound that Greek-like tragedies would be penned, ultimately, in mournful remembrance of it... had anyone survived. A 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 and 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.  We are, even as unlikely as that likely may be, alone in the multiverse, or we are not. Both are as astonishing as the other, and here we are, reader... disrespecting, degrading, and dismissive of both potential realities vis a vis our disgustingly juvenile and insentient behavior.

  • Be that as all that may be, our largest humility with regard to the matter would NOT be unjustified. Why, it might even be appreciated.
  • ...Think that alien just conjectured doesn't realize Cetaceans are people
  • Restore John Ford, but read on.

Grok In Fullness

Errol

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