|Remembering WW... "Scungilli"|
These started as apologies,
which is why they're so ironic.
I evaluate hypocrisies,
You see? It's like a tonic.
See, *sorry's* not the issue.
I'm not the least repentant.
Best, put away your tissues...
My interests may be bothersome...
to throw the light where it won't go,
and cop to what we find.
UFO's are in the news
I should think my interest healthy,
and allay all apprehensions.
...And implications are apparent,
so they raise their mottled heads;
though most would rather fight than change,
so shoot their foot instead!
These believe in "airborne castles"
just to keep their dreams alive,
provided by glad "shadows,"
so obscuring what's contrived.
The damage is disruption
by the few who have "connections,"
so we won't "get together,"
and demand some SANE reflection!
...I had a friendship once upon...
he wrote a note to end it.
He said, "[You get behind me Satan,
you indicate predicament!
My *foundations* are a-crumbling,
and my livelihood is threatened;
you've threatened, too,
my wife and child;
a pox on bogus legends.
You've jeopardized employment.
You've compromised my life.
You've engineered my failure.
You write a script for strife"]!
I knew he couldn't help it;
conditions squeezed him hard.
I know that he can't mean it—
not a button, part, or shard.
Though, I was amazed at my dismissal,
a little hurt—you want the truth.
See, he's just another casualty
of the ones who stand aloof!
You know the *ones* of whom I speak.
The ones who have his answers!
The ones who should allay his fear,
and stop their lying cancers!
The ones who threaten needlessly;
the ones so rife with guilt!
The ones who hide intentions
like a knife shoved to its hilt!
The ones who are so comfortable
as a "monkey" on his back!
The ones who will, so quickly,
let him fall between their cracks!
The ones who do his "rendering"—
for the reasons that they hide!
The ones allowing punishment
for conditions they've contrived!
...The ones who hide the UFO's
so deeply from us all;
the ones who keep "the secrets,"
and, so, are—in fact!—sans gall!
I will mourn his contribution
now as lost in all that mist;
I will mourn the conversation
that was once so smart and rich.
I will feel like a loser
who might end up sans his friends,
and will they fall, then, one by one
until my inquest ends?
And what of me; will I succumb;
will I give up the ship?
When, finally, if I'm pressed his way,
by wife and job or kid!
Will I change my phone and E-mail?
Will I shut my website down?
Will I sigh and vote Republican...
let a smile morph to frown?
Will I replace the scabrous scales
that had fallen from my eyes;
will I give in, and then embrace what, now...
I must despise!
And that's the real reason,
I imagine, that I mourn.
My friend is ME,
if he goes down... then I must?
...That's the norm?
He's proof that they are winning
(the ones as writ above).
These ape marauding raptors,
and we're the hapless dove.
He metaphors the powerless.
He is, then, you and me.
He needs his home and wife and kids.
He needs his job, you see?
I'm consumed with my resentment
at a system so capricious,
that it's allowed to stifle
all those questions which beseech us!
I'm enraged that these conspirators
are allowed egregious power
so destructive to relationships
that examine "walls" and "towers"!
I'm angry that they CHOOSE MY FRIENDS,
or make them run away,
or provoke them to forsake me...
these are shadows of my day!
I will expose hypocrisies—
that's a valid tonic still.
I'll abuse their satisfactions,
as against them? I'm fulfilled.
I'll borrow from Will Shakespeare,
and to myself be true,
apply my OWN philosophy
that it all comes down to *you*.
"You" is, of course, a metaphor for the individual. I remind the reader that it is the individual who is the real power, and why *they* work so hard to program, coerce, and control same.
They are pointed at you like I'm pointing at you right now, only my agenda is mooning the deserving world at large and bearing any criticism for same! ...Showin' my discursive ass as I will, eh? The other? He wants to burrow into your pocket to a vein... you know, like any good parasite.
Individuals are, or can be, as much anathema as they are authoritative. They're not authoritarian, those who are, and righteously so? These are degraded and ablated to kiss my shiny metal ass!
These latter use slimy tricks, yea and verily... fearsome bags of dirty deeds. They strike at secular foundations they've MADE vulnerable in their campaigns of corrosive control, religious bigotry, and authoritarian government. Would that the secular community attack the religious community the way the religious community attacks the secular one, eh? Can you hear their whining objection, then, done unto as they have done to others... and since their inception?
Fear, censure, and intimidation are their tools! These tools are used without regard to the rules they demand everyone else follows... even as they don't follow these laws themselves. These giggle at your credulity... laugh at you behind your back.
These are amused by your faith. Covetous of your success. Angered by your happiness. Jealous of your contribution... ironically it is these, not Moslems, "hating us for our freedoms."
There is no "fair play" on a "level playing field." If there was? They'd disappear. It's why a vote is rigged, at all!
Society, as it stands, is an illusion maintained by each individual in it. All I'm saying is we could have better illusions—better dreams. Dreams that look out... and in—never down. Reasonable Dreams, finally, that don't cost one efficacious and valued friends.
I'll miss your charm, wit, and courage, buddy, even as I hate that which provokes your pragmatic cowardice. Moreover, I'll keep a light on for ya'...
Restore John Ford.
Wendy's Song --
Rudiak Rides Again --
Always Searching --