Justification

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

Wednesday, February 04, 2026

Remaining... Lacks


.
.
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I look into our starry sky... 
its length and breadth and depth untried
and question—to perchance achieve—
what these "things" ARE to soar and cleave!
.
They are there, there IS no question... 
dismissing any protestation 
that I'm quite mad or just mistaking...  
Or worse: that I've been lying... faking.
.
I've proved them to myself, at least! 
Should I respect what one might think... 
who ISN'T looking? ...Specious finks!
.
...Sucking on our wounded sphere
—"mere parasites who breed in fear"
"specious finks" who make "pronouncements..." 
These spout denials and denouncements!  
They'd proclaim their "dead-lock nut," 
to prove in fact their minds are shut
that they are sans ...imagination... 
and must court their own damnation!
.
Keeping council with their "favorites," 
pretending they're alone (the flavor!), 
they would turn their eyes away 
from that which haunts our skies today!  
Oh, they're fearful. No mistake. 
They're throwing on their drags and brakes! 
See, new ideas threaten those 
who keep their process... undisclosed.
.
They're "braking" to arrange "distraction," 
provide for our INSANE inaction, 
but keeps the subject tongue-in-cheek 
so they can sully errant leaks. 
...Remaining is the ink and stone
which they discount with heads of bone!
.
...Remaining is the anecdotal
weighty, plain and calmly totaled. 
Remaining is the photographic
ponderous and enigmatic. 
Remaining, there's the evidence 
that one perceives with no pretence—
no axe to "grind," no bill to "fill," 
but has a "brain" and knows the "drill"!
.
And, yes, sometimes it's our "science" friends
—those filled with same to length and brim
prefering  "method" and "assessment" 
to live "proud" lives of glad detachment ...
Ask Rupert Sheldrake if this ain't so.
He's in position, so's to know.
.
"Light" shan't dance and caper FOR them, 
speaks a language MUCH too foreign, 
so, safe beyond their "instruments"
*it* charms and glitters... no pretense. 
.
Stanton Friedman makes his case, 
but most who "look" will risk "disgrace" ... 
...See, science is not BAD—or friendly
science is a tool, comprende'? 
Though, it can—too fast—be used 
to further evil ends... abstruse!
.  
Consider scalpels spreading butter, 
or cleaving bolts with paper cutters.  
"All Science" dulls humanity 
provoking an abject insanity 
and we're the lesser for all that 
if "science" dictates "tit for tat."
...It must be leavened with a "conscience"!
See, science can't explain what's "conscious!"
.
Pure logic suits your staid computer...
But soul remains its trouble shooter!
Soul decrys atomic bombs...
or viruses in warfare qualms!
Soulless science dives right in
Enleavened by a conscience, then!
.
Still, good folks think these ...won't... conspire 
to make their short-term goals transpire, 
If their gain can be "attained" 
they'll do the worstthey won't abstain!
.
I've studied them, they know no bounds, 
to them "we" are as dumb as hounds; 
we're shackled to our rules and codes 
made ethics bound to bear their loads!
We're mere "objects"—we're their CATTLE—
they keep us buying, taxed, and addled 
while they write their tickets free 
and freeload from our pockets, see?
.
What we lack's the "real deal" 
these psychos covet, grift, or steal!
.
What we lack's a base respect 
that we have lost for their neglect!
.
What's we lack's the "cop to truth"... 
pretended, lost, and in refute!
.
What's we lack's that money spent 
to educate our future, friends!
.
Still, we waffle and get lathered... 
endure elitist double standards
puling prayers that just PRETEND 
to hold the high ground... we can't win!
.
Look around, begin to "see,"
 and sense some new reality! 
Stealthy wizards find new ways 
to fleece their flocks and make Y O U pay. 
They would trade your soul for power; 
holding court, they build your towers 
on these special "clouds" they'd claim 
would keep you "whole" or "safe" and "sane."
.
TV Preachers whine and pray 
from billion-dollar pulpits—crazed
They PRETEND their persecutions 
(spewing saccharine elocutions), 
all the while sowing hatreds 
they condone (...and to which we're fated!).
.
whining goals or mad positions, 
wearing mantles of correctness 
he contrives (to cloak his excess)? 
He fronts the "un-elected," 
sells YOUR soul (you're unprotected!
...lives a life of privileged power—
cruisin' restrooms sans his trousers!
.
Still, the sky's alive with lights 
(which act most strangely in my sight), 
and these belie pontification, 
discredit all the obfuscation, 
and keep in me alive the ...need... 
to ask hard questions, watch, and bleed.
.
Finks pretend, "alleged weirdness... 
warrants "special proof's" coherence!" 
Claims that are "incredible" 
demand that "proof's" infallible (?) ... 
but then RETREAT becomes the norm! 
It's cloaks like these are used, or worn! 
The "proof's" horizon just recedes 
ahead of fear... we do not need!
.
No, I see them—that's a fact. 
They don't conform to aircraft, Jack! 
See, I'm a flyer too well versed 
for wishful thinking, last and first!
.
What I see will fly big circles, 
glitter like a flash bulb hurtled, 
then slowing to a crawl they'll glow... 
to bursts of speed—away they go
I'm there with my late Mother, friend, 
and I'll not lie, distort ... pretend... 
that they are there if not—you hear?
.
I'll watch the skies. You face your fear!


lehmberg2002@gmail.com
www.AlienView.net





Former Air Force "zoomie,"—one stunningly shallow nay-sayer and default klasskurtxian cur-curmudgeon—James McGaha, has "exposed himself," in the past, as the public face of an "on-the-run" CSIcopia. His current too-cautionary mewling—as regards an all but smashed Aristotelian crystal sphere of caustic cluelessness (or scientism, as brittle as it is dull)—has been heard on numerous Larry King Live shows.

McGaha occupied the post previously held by Dr. [immaterial] Michael Shermer, an oilier, smoother, and more practiced representative of the dying CSIcopian meme.  Shermer abdicated his position when it became obvious that he could not make his "case" live to a public he wants to buy his skep-dick's (sic) books.

Shermer is to McGaha what Pat Riley is to Bobby Knight. Though, IMO, Shermer is much more the regrettably craven sum'bitch because he's smoother, more lettered, and seemingly derives a lot of personal comfort from his practiced duplicity.

Problem is: he can't make his case on this stuff to an audience getting a little more informed every day, and he risks his cottage industry of nay-saying literature, as I said above, to come on TV just to look like a fool—as McGaha seems only too willing to do... the zoomie gerbil! He figures to sell his own book, I presume. I'll lay odds it's published by Prometheus Press... waddaya-bet!

That's enough.  Read on.

Restore John Ford!







Tuesday, January 20, 2026

On the Frontier of the Unsaid...

 

The reader can take this as they will...


On the Frontier of the Unsaid... 

by Alfred Lehmberg


There may come to a person... THAT point, are we right?! The reader may come to know this point perhaps because they have, experientially, had “that” point already thrust upon them… We’ll take that as a given going forward! 


There are many such "points," true: geopolitical, technological, historical, and philosophical. Today we will discuss that point which is, "twitchy." Well, twitchier than the others...They're all twitchy.


Most embrace the obviation of that aforementioned “point,” right? It can be a less than pleasant experience, seen, as it is, generally, and justifiably, as an unspeakable concrescence looming before them (!) …like that thing which WAS to be avoided, at all costs… but looming nonetheless… and inescapable! 


Relax… We’re not talking about mere death or even ego death… oh, likely ego death… also unspeakable, even if necessary in the round, but that’s a good thing! No …We won’t digress in the fourth paragraph… Digressions will provide for illustration. They’re for later.


Unspeakable, you ask? ...Not necessarily a bad thing! “Unspeakable” only means un-Englishable. It remains that we must embrace the “twitchy un-Englishable,” unctuous as it can be. There is value to it! That value in exploring the “edges” of these things?


Why… for to make more Englishable that which was before… beyond mere “English”! The reader can dig it! …Push reluctant light where that light is loath to go. Kick over the concealing rocks of that which has been disrespecting one’s self-honesty. Englishable? …Imagine explaining a cell phone to a caveman by way of example, forgetting the explainer doesn't understand that cell phone, either. The “English” (language!) evolves… becomes a brighter light! ...Or CAN. That is what provided for the actuality of the cell phone, at all, in the first place. See that?

 

Remains, what is one going to do and stay honest to self, if that’s important to them… remain honest to one’s humble and conscience-leavened (woke!) consciousness as ephemerally frail and as timorous as it may be at the start? …We begin.

 

Individual Death? Ego death? No, not even black hole death, massive asteroid death, horrific disease death, or total cessation of life “silent spring” death... all possible, still. Rather, we’re talking about that individual reader’s first cogent observation of the world’s inconsequent and wrongly assumed veneer of contrived “normalcy,” as it seems to erodebeginning to crack before our tired eyes like ancient paint on a sunbaked and forgotten Arizona grain silo! The subsequent world’s “safe and sound” abruptly becoming decidedly unsettled


...The death of belief, reader! That's what we're on about here, and that is a shiverer of the shorter curlies, eh? One remains conscious through that death, see? Only, what’s on the other side of belief’s cessation?


Oh, and by the way… That one’s “normalcy” can be unsettled means, perhaps, that it likely should be unsettled. One can only build where it's solid. This is foreshadowing the point…

 

Maybe? You run your finger along these ethereal fissures and eldritch cracks alluded to above and feel the dust of something older, stranger, and more honest than the polished lies we’ve been fed by our too self-interested and too well-vested governmental and religious institutions… betraying institutions, actually (?), only trembling in their own unnecessary and unethical shadows of self-deceit, incompetent hypocrisy… and utter complacency. These are not clearing the bars that they set for themselves. Bars set have purpose.

 

Precisely here is where the person honest with self, self-resolves! It is where they must necessarily stand: not in the mythical “safe” center (pause for squirty giggles!), but at reality’s bleeding edge where the cold cosmic wind tastes hotly metallic, and the sky begins to be perceived as too large for the same old stories that we’ve been told in blind rote for suffocating centuries by men in gold-threaded dressing gowns! …These persons honest with self are a hard sell, true enough. Their discomfort provides for the general uncomfortable… but it remains that these persons, honest with self… are required! Discomfiture is required of needs and for cause!

 

Shifting gears? See, UFOs, physical anomalies, crop-circles, and all the other uninvited guests of our collective psyche and zeitgeist… the aliens, CE3Ks, crypto-curiosities, ghosts, goblins, and even anxious water nixies—these can't be mere curiosities for the credulous idle!


Rather, these may be, perhaps, meaningful interruptions, weeping ruptures in the polite little fictions parlayed by those same self-involved leaderships of dismissing and dismissive yore alluded to above! You know the stories… those iterated from “conventional wisdoms” parlayed to us from “on high” about our universe being, in the round, small, manageable, largely understandable, and thoroughly catalogued by the white-coated bureaucrats with cleanly branded clipboards. …But, look!

 

Those same paranormalities become the glad reminders that "reality" is not a closed system remotely understandable by arrogant collections of talking monkeys fervently believing they write large (more squirty giggles) and define their consequence! One can be reminded that our “finest works” are likely regarded as “filthy rags” to "others" elsewhere in our universe… These “reminders” become the cosmic equivalent of a knock at the door at 2 a.m.—and that knock is coming from inside your mind! This may explain the popularity of paranormal late-night radio…

 

…But what do we do with these knocks? That’s the dicey issue and the harder sell. Most people, bless their trembling and parochial (pea pickin’!) but god-fearin’ little hearts, pretend they don’t hear them


They pull their scented blankets over their heads and mutter something about “weather balloons,”  “psychological misinterpretations,” or “misleading the mislead to their mental illnesses”… as if the human mind is so fragile that it can’t distinguish between a weather balloon and an unstructured point of bright light performing right-angle turns at flesh-shredding if soundless Mach speeds… This writer has SEEN that!

 

These might be the same folks who laugh too loudly at jokes they don’t understand, who cling to comfortable, even if unreliable, "consensus" like a life raft, and who will mistake easy conformity for the contrived, so disingenuous, "comfort" of a "common wisdom." The scared are looking for any port in the storm… any port convincing of a leveled out "status quo" of facile consolations... We suspect this might explain the potentialities and short-term successes of fascist authoritarianisms… we digress.

 

We know them. We’ve met them. We’ve endured their damp-sleeved self-consoling and self-interested snickerings. On reflection of these "convinced"... Who has time for their hubristic piss-wittery laughing up damp sleeves at that which they refuse their own capacity to understand, their own aptitude to accept, their own ability to incorporate, and their own skill to recognize... a paranormal wheat for its denying chaff! 

 

The person honest with self does not bow to these“noisome negativists,” these self-appointed guardians of the soothing mundane. No—the person honest with self walks passed them, over them, and through them if necessary, because curiosity is not a sin and wonder is not a crime!  …Not yet anyway! The universe is just too vast, too wild, and too uncooperative to be contained by the timid, captured in its arrogant test tube, or cowed by the too-willing imbecilic "doin' God's work"… to be forever put off by their readypracticed, and complacent cowardices.

 

…And so, persons honest with self? They ask questions. Dangerous questions. Questions that peel back the wallpaper of consensus reality to reveal the pipes and wires and dim crawlspaces beneath. Questions that make polite society shift uncomfortably in seats thought comfortable as the seat, itself, becomes decidedly uncomfortable. ...But we must buckle into that seat, regardless! It’s what we do when we want to ascend and elevate as a far-reaching species. …More Star Trek. Less Star Wars.

 

We’ll die if we stop growing, if we don’t aspire to our ascension. Our complacency regarding these matters is our death

 

Consider! What if the phenomena we dismiss are not contrived aberrations like the gods we invent, but invitations? What if the unknown is not a threat, but a cosmic funhouse mirror? What if the universe has been "speaking" to us all along, but we’ve been too busy arguing about parking spaces and those manufactured gods to listen attentively?

 

Sure! These questions offend some. They shock others. They shame a few. But beyond the offense may lie more clarity! Beyond the shock perhaps lies real exhilaration! Beyond the shame could lie newfound fellowship—that quiet nod between those who have dared to look up instead of down. Look in AND out... Look upon and not merely passed… These are persons honest with themselves… and having humility, too. Remember what was said about talking monkeys! That's who we are. We earn our humility!

 

The person honest with self knows that institutions—governments, churches, and scientific bodies—behave, often enough, like aging monarchies: defensive, brittle, but terrified of losing the control of their purloined high grounds, high grounds thought secure. They hide behind their jargons, behind their “peer reviews,” behind their classified “stamps” and their redacted “pages.” They propound to us that the world perceived is stable, predictable, and fully understood… enough! It’s not… not remotely.

 

They make pronouncements of "fact" sans all investigation! They proclaim in the round to us that anomalies are “errors,” that witnesses are “confused,” and that history is “tidy.” …Only, they begin to understand how fragile it all is AND hanging by a thread, reader! …Why we, indeed, need to celebrate every second!

 

The person honest with self feels that our conventional wisdom, ironically untried yet thought true, just cannot BE entirely true. See? Their “enough” is not, and has never been, enough! The only thing immutable about all this is its lack of real immutability! We could have made better choices! We still can


Observe that the person honest with self has read the footnotes. The person honest with self has listened to the whistleblowers, the pilots, the radar operators, the archaeologists who found something they weren’t supposed to find, and then wanted to talk openly about it and were besmeared. The person honest with self has seen the patterns, the correlations, and the synchronicities that the mainstream refuses to acknowledge. Persons like Rupert Sheldrake, Graham Hancock, and Jeremy Vaeni spring to mind!


…And so the person honest with self asks again: If “the truth will set you free,” why hide it? The person honest with self suspects that that may be precisely why! General Freedom has always been uncomfortable (unprofitable!) to the cat-birders!


If the phenomena are “nonsense,” why study them, then? The person honest with self observes that these “phenomena” remain in spite of their classification as “nonsense”! If the witnesses are deluded, why ridicule them and not pity them? Why, indeed.


The canned answers from officiality, when they come, are invariably unsatisfying. They are evasions wrapped in euphemisms and larded in deflections. They are “explanations” explaining nothing. They are the bureaucratic equivalent of a dismissive shrug and a blank stare.


…But the person honest with self is not deterred. The person honest with self persists because the pursuit itself is a kind of liberation! To question is to breathe. To doubt is to sharpen the mind. To explore is to reclaim the birthright of a species that once looked at the stars and felt awe instead of fear… or worse, indifference. To protest ignorance (any ignorance!) is rightful.


And yes—there is risk. There is always "risk." Perspicacious inquiry into the "twitchy" is not a safe hobby. It can cost you friends, jobs, and reputations. It can make you the subject of whispers. It can place you outside the warm glow of "consensus" and into the cold air of forced independence. It can cancel you.


…But the person honest with self accepts this. They have seen what others cheer and are revalidated by their every baseless dismissal! The person honest with self embraces it, even. …Because the alternative—the slow suffocation by unexamined belief—is much, much worse... to them at any rate.


…So here we stand, at the threshold of the unsaid, the unacknowledged, and the uninvited. The sky is wide. The questions are many. The answers, when they come, will not be gentle. Level-ups must be earned or be worthless.


…But they will be true. They will be instructive. They will be, it is the intuition of this writer, our ascension.


It will be true, though, however sharp, and is that not always preferable to the padded cell of even comfortable lies… and, if it’s told or communicated to be understood, can it not be believed? Revealed! There can be no real bliss in our ignorance. Don't be ignorant of that.


Restore John Ford. Read on. 

Grok In Fullness

Remaining... Lacks

. . . I look into our starry sky...  its  length  and breadth and  depth untried ,  and question—to perchance achieve— what these "...

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