Justification

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

Saturday, April 11, 2026

Once Again, Again...

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Illinoisa placid State... 
for folks who "know their place"? 
They'd "jobs, and crops, and families
to keep their lives in trace? 
They've got to "make a living"
keep the wolves from worried doors
so they're bound to be "pragmatic," folk...
Still, ...don't they need to know their score?
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See, "stuff" infests their nighttime skies, 
and they won't care a wit? 
Blaming *jobs*, or *farms* and *weather*... 
blaming *family* and *thrift*? 
Rather, giving in completely 
to the DICTATES of their day, 
when it is in FACT, those "dictates
which pervert them, holding sway?
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See, Illinois hosts UFOs that obviate ...the man
They fly aloft, huge "arrowheads," 
like quiet buildings, understand? 
Too, they're all lit up with beacons 
from sharp corners all aglow
they shimmer with a crimson light 
that pulsates down below!
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They waft along majestically, 
bereft of any stealth! 
They make themselves available 
for inspections of themselves! 
Then, they rattle chains of status quo—
indifferent to the style... 
of a "mainstream" so mendacious 
its whole cloth's a toxic guile!
.
See? They're like a big "pink elephant," 
but one that's truly seen! 
How could one "report" these facts—
expect to be believed
Though, how does one belie a tale, 
so fleshed-out, straight and true, 
by so many trusted persons 
who communicate that view?!
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The eerily anomalous did fly northeastern skies
and "nine one one was called upon" 
by sober men: no lie!  
The cops dispatched would see it too, 
and photos they were making... 
were hard to see and indistinct 
but minus any faking
Philip Klass was quick to crow 
that "it was only Venus." 
All scholarships would blow that off 
as that "thinking which demeans us."
.
Four towns' police would see this thing!
It flew without a sound! 
It blocked out all the planets 
and the stars Klass "gassed" about! 
Yes, professionals of diverse types, 
from teachers up through truckers 
were witnesses to strange events... 
Well, demanding something from us!
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The craft was huge but danced the sky 
and spun upon its axis. 
Devoid of any commonness, 
there was nothing to relax us. 
...And lit up like a Christmas tree 
it sped up now and then... 
to *shoot* to the horizon, 
trained observers tell us, friend!
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Real towns in Illinois report this UFO: 
Lebanon and Shiloh and Dupo, don't you know
And yet the word does NOT go out, 
events were just ignored
and we are left to ponder 
what credulity implores!
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Once again authorities 
have proved they've missed the boat! 
Once again, they demonstrate
 they'd rather sink than float!
Once again, they demonstrate 
the "courage" of our race 
to a plethora of visitors 
we're yet too dumb to face! 
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Once again, we lose out... 
on the living, breathing stars! 
Once again, we're petrified, 
if while more near than far!
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...And still these sneer and chuckle 
like it's "us" bereft of clues, 
when the world is in RENAISSANCE 
and potential's bright and new
Worldwide, we come alive 
and cope with where we are: 
a tiny globe on beaten paths, 
and shining like a star!
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Stanton Friedman makes the case: 
it's "folks" more near than far 
who have cluttered our real history 
and might hint some "higher" bar. 
That we aspire to this bar
our struggle of the past—
to free ourselves from priests and kings 
who strangle us at last...
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To be free of all their ad-men—
manipulations these contrive... 
to sell a short-term worldview 
that we can't or won't survive!
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...So what about that "NON-EVENT"—
going down in Illinois
Why don't we hear the furor 
of some people making noise? 
Why don't they make DEMANDS 
of them... who makes demands of us... 
as they squander our inheritance 
and betray our future's trust?
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Why are we less than knowledgeable, 
why would we just deny... 
what people—who are good and true—
have reported in their skies? 
Why would these honest persons, 
who have everything to lose... 
why would they, then, 
report these things—
to such as me and you?
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Something flew in Illinois. 
This, at least, is clear! 
the mainstream's "blithe indifference." 
should be blamed for what we'd fear!
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It could not be a "stealth-craft" 
of some type to "spy" on us, 
or why in hell'd they advertise
and light the damn thing up?! 
The thing that was reported, then, 
was too damn big to make, 
and suggesting that it's Venus? 
That's a stupid "Phil Klass" fake!
.
So, why the hell ignore this 
and be something less than free? 
Do hapless folks in Illinois... 
just like their bleeding knees?


Lehmberg2002@gmail.com
www.AlienView.net



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Humanity secures another victory for those with dirt in their hair. That's not a good thing, eh? The dirt? It comes from the reflexive move to shove one's head into the ground at the first sign of the, oh, let's call it the "irascible and inexplicable but paradigm changing inconvenient occuring so far up your nose you can feel alien boot heels on your chin," eh?!  Too much? Such it is with the unknown unknown.

IOWs, when they're not otherwise flexible enough to make hats made red of their own abused and prolapsed anal pores? It's "dirty" hair. C'mon! You know what I'm talkin' about... ...New things done in unpredictable ways, you know?  Work with me.

Christ, but aggregate humanity is like a fetus who won't leave the freaking womb! That's not good for fetus or womb, eh?  ...Something else you know is true!  Rack 'em with the ass-hats!

Too, consider what the distractions of family, farm, and job are really distracting us from... when the family is an invention of the last couple of centuries, the farm is being phased out for the monolithic agro-monopoly (in the interests of efficiency of course, an efficiency made necessary by a population insentiently doubling every twenty years or so), and "the job" is generally a nonproductive futility, for most... (See the movie, "Office Space") and contributing, anyway, to the general environmental degradation and disintegration. Heavy freakin' sigh, eh?

...And people wonder why there seems to be so much depression and suicide!  No, intimating a very tantalizing set of expansive potentialities, it seems preferable to cop to the obvious reality of UFOs and try to get an idea of what these honest persons seem to be so furiously pointing at, eh? This seems to gesture to the attention of something, perhaps themselves.  Hey, they're there, but that we're here, you know.  Humanity is its own proof that the "other" is real. 

Nothing happens once! WE didn't!


Honestly, are we doomed to live harrowing real lives beyond the only imagined terrors of the otherwise ignored alien visitation? Are we doomed to be led to a sick society's self-righteous slaughter by the hyper-privileged few who feel they have the "divine right" to profit from the exertions of we, the "dues-paying deluded"... destroying the very homes of we deluded, in the process? This would include the White House, currently, as we've seen, its East Wing rendered unrighteously to heaps of slag and moldering asbestos by mad men.

If those few who profit from the "we deluded" feel compelled to protest, well... it may be that their protest is fueled more by their well-justified LOSS of pompous prestige and purloined position enjoyed unjustly for too many years, than for the sensitivities and sensibilities of those who produce the prestige and position for them, in the first place! The catbird bemoaning a threat to its seat. Pity. ...Fuck 'em.

I pause for a sneer of my own.

In other words, it's not to our aggregate benefit that these protests (or ufological denials) are ever—and have ever been—made. Certainly, we're better off knowing the truth, presently completely denied us, whatever the price or consequence. It would be incorporated into our daily lives... and we would move on from it, blessed with the knowledge that things had a wider horizon than we thought they did!

We do ourselves no favors by hiding from what most of the hyper-educated propeller heads ADMIT is out there... somewhere. "Far," they can just as easily be... "near," eh?

See, if *they* are somewhere, they could be anywhere. And, that means most certainly even HERE.

What happened in Illinois on January 5th, 2000? Then, what continues to happen over and over again in an accelerating cycle of the highest strangeness witnessed by hundreds or even thousands of credible persons?

There have been flaps in and around, in the interim! Can anyone remember the Phoenix Lights in Arizona 1997, O'hare International in 2007... haunting a seemingly over-represented Illinois, and the most recent full-bore and brass-jacketed Flap in 2008?

Indeed, how many times can one strike this ufological flint, get a good productive spark, and it all not just burst into righteous flame, finally?

Somebody knows.

Read on!





Sunday, March 29, 2026

Reputations ...Earned!

AlienViews: Bio of Frank C. Feschino, Jr.

The no-smoke-or-sunshine professional reputation of Frank C. Feschino Jr. 

 

 

Reputations ...Earned!

by Alfred Lehmberg

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There’s not going to be a short answer—certainly not a stock one padded with empty superlatives—so we’ll but keep to what the record can actually support. We will additionally, however, take pains to push a justified light where that light is otherwise loath to go… loath to go for reasons as suspicious as they are suspect, and as unconscionable as they are cowardly.

Observe? Feschino isn't getting justified traction where he should be—not even close—when by all rights he ought to be “Monster Truckin’” it, clearing "publicity's buildings" in a single celebrated bound! All justification for that is in plain view. Truly, it is a story of the millennium!

Verily, Frank C. Feschino Jr. holds a strong and respected reputation within serious UFO research circles, especially regarding the Flatwoods Monster and the 1952 UFO “air war” timeline. Yet he remains largely "unknown"—or simply ignored—by mainstream media and its brother academic and governmental institutions. 

...Among dedicated investigators, however, he’s regarded as meticulousarchival, and a researcher unusually thorough. Top marks from a considered college of fellow researchers of the ufological milieu...

Let’s break Frank C. Feschino Jr.’s Reputation down with some specific clarity and honesty. It's easy to do. The man is without guile and sans all mendacity. He's deep, but all that deepness is on the surface. He hides nothing.

Firstly, he makes the structured assessments regarding his work clear, and for decades, has he done so.

1. Within serious UFO research/Fortean communities?

Well, across ufology, "woebegon woo" to well-esteemed, Feschino is ever regarded as:

  • The foremost credible authority on the Flatwoods Monster case, multiple sources describe his work as the most complete and deeply researched reconstruction of the 1952 incident by an order of significant magnitude.
  • A meticulous, boots‑on‑the‑ground investigator: he’s spent decades interviewing witnesses, haunting local libraries, gathering primary documents, mapping flight paths, and reconstructing of-the-record timelines of precision and accuracy.
  • A credible researcher who has revived a case that had been thought dead, dismissed, or irreparably distorted. Armed with facts and logic, his work unblinkingly challenged the spurious “meteor” explanation, the hallucinogenic gases invention, and the ludicrous barn owl ploy used by the denialists, and re‑established the Flatwoods event as a complex, multi‑state UFO flap of the first order.
  • A figure respected by major ufological figures of note and credibility, the likes of Stanton Friedman, among many others... like Richard Dolan, Whitley Streiber, Robert Hastings, Robert Salas, and Peter Robbins… et al! The late Friedman wrote forewords and afterwords to all of Feschino's books and publicly supported his methodology, his due diligence, and his well-receipted findings. Friedman stood ever stalwart on Feschino’s shoulder regarding Flatwoods!

 

                            Flatwoods Monster ParaTopiary: 2017

 

In short: inside the field, he’s seen as the “Flatwoods guy”—the one who actually did, and continues to do, the work.

2. In the local West Virginia press?

Local reporting steadfastly portrays him as:

  • Dedicated and persistent
  • The primary modern chronicler of the Flatwoods story
  • Someone who brought renewed attention to a fading historical event of significant note
  • Good for the community

Example: The Register‑Herald credits him with keeping the case alive through “a dozen years of painstaking research.” It's now been 30 years...

3. In mainstream academia or media, however, we find a different though puzzling treatment…

Here, we see, the reputation is more “muted”:

  • He is largely ignored, frankly… though, not attacked. There’s the puzzle!
  • His work is regarded as too far outside mainstream scientific discourse… though not in a sensational or fringe‑cult way. …More to the puzzle!
  • The Flatwoods case itself is often dismissively treated as “folklore,” first, so his deep-dive research simply doesn’t get the mainstream oxygen, oxygen of which it is much deserving.

This is typical for staid UFO researchers who focus on historical reconstruction rather than entertainment or speculation. Jerry Clark is an example... Don Ledger is another.

4. Among readers and investigators, moreover?

His past books—Shoot Them Down! …and, The Braxton County Monster—are often described as:

  • Dense with documentation of the highly strange
  • Heavy on primary sources of cited authenticity
  • Serious attempts to reconstruct a suppressed historical event

Even his “critics,” such as THEY are, tend to say: “He’s thorough, even if you don’t buy his conclusions.”

 


So what’s a “bottom line” on Frank Feschino?

Frank C. Feschino Jr. is well respected where rigor matters—among credible researchers, archivists, and those who value credible primary-source UFO investigation. He’s not a pop‑culture ufologist; he’s a documentarian, a case historian, and a methodical investigator whose work has shaped the modern understanding of the Flatwoods incident …and what it may mean or point to. Moreover, Feschino, unlike notable if more successful researchers… we know who they are… never tried to make the story about himself. No, for decades now, it was the story that was the frontman, Feschino was but its humble chronicler. ...One is reminded, again, as with Robert Hastings (written about earlier), of Graham HancockRupert Sheldrake, and Jeremy Vaeni. They're not "the thing." They are "of" the thing. The difference is not subtle.

Remains, Feschino is just not getting the viral traction that his most astonishing and well-supported story should get, one would think, given the hugely productive efforts of his painstaking research and selfless due diligence! How is that explained? "Close Encounters of the Third Kind" was launched on the strength of lesser evidence, and Flatwoods is the better and more compelling tale, right down to its kids and dogs! ...And?! It actually happened... precisely its greatest impediment?!

It's conjectured that Feschino was ignored by the mainstream because he is just too difficult and convoluted to decisively refute. A direct challenge only proves his point, illustrates his credibility, and amplifies his unsettling message regarding our America trying (and succeeding?!) to shoot down UFOs! Challenge only drags more of that aforementioned light to the issue! Challenge only begs more questions! 

These will be questions largely answered in the investigations of Feschino's research, mossy rocks all kicked over! Only, the mainstream doesn't like kicking over rocks! ...A stalwart Feschino kicks over some real doozies!

This rock, for example! Resolved: UFOs are real, they have been recovered, and they are not of this Earth's understanding! ...Smoke 'em if ya got 'em!

Then? We went to war with them and shot some of them downit's what we do! One of these things was forced down in Flatwoods in 1952, and a huge military contingent was there within hours, ostensibly, on some kind of quick stand-by, or they would never have been able to get there so quickly with the equipments that they'd had!

Now, if any of this is true one can understand how "stories of the millennium" can be unabashedly alluded to... It is, though, where the data seems to precisely lead. There will be no apologies for that. Faced in 1952 it would be behind us and THIS writer suspects that we'd be further than we are!

One can attest that Feschino gets very little push-back... and NONE of that is competent or credible push-back. The story, one finds, is TOO real and larded with meaningful detail to dismiss… as there is MEAT on the bones he’s found. That is decidedly unsettling… meat of this type usually is

This conjecture outlined here, however, isn’t just reasonable—it’s the only hypothesis that actually fits the observable pattern, that pattern seen before, oftentimes.

Let’s walk through that particular assessment cleanly, without melodrama, without conspiratorial fog, and without flattering anyone. Just the logic… "just the facts, ma'am."

Resolved: If Feschino were wrong, he’d be easy to swat down!

1. Mainstream institutions—academic, journalistic, or scientific—have ZERO hesitation in publicly dismantling and dismissing "outrageous" paranormal claims. Remember the less-than forthright CSICOPS? They do it reflexively. It’s low‑risk, high‑prestige work. They preen themselves with it! It’s bread and butter for them!

…But with Feschino? "Where’s their beef" as regards a pointed criticism of his "outrageous" claims? Airwar with ET in 1952?! That should raise skeptibunky hackles, surely! Only… there are:

  • No serious debunking papers in evidence
  • No point‑by‑point refutations, just slanderous inventions
  • No skeptical deep dives, "shallow" is the hallmark
  • No “here’s where he misread the data” critiques...

Nothing. Zero. Zip. Nada.

We all know that silence is not the reaction expected when someone gets caught “wrong.” No… Silence is the reaction you get when someone is inconveniently right or at least compellingly well‑supported!

2. His work is too document‑heavy to dismiss casually.

Verily, you don’t approach Feschino “casually.” Feschino’s reconstruction of the 1952 events is built on:

  • primary-source Air Force documents
  • cited flight path reconstructions
  • taped witness interviews conducted before the “folklore” ossified and the witnesses died
  • cross‑state timeline correlations
  • meteorological data studies
  • military dispatch logs
  • Project Blue Book files
  • forensic resubstantiations

That’s not “belief.” That’s archival reconstruction. Data trails are as hard to dismiss as are audit trails.

To refute him, a critic would have to:

  • engage the documents
  • engage the timelines
  • engage the witnesses
  • engage the contradictions in the official record

Most skeptics simply don’t have the stamina or the technical literacy for that kind of “work.” Fearful of looking bad, they are timorous. 

In short? They don’t try.

3. The push‑back he does get is superficial, lazy, and unserious.

We’ve seen it firsthand.

It’s always one of these:

  • “It was a meteor.”
  • “It’s just folklore.”
  • “The witnesses were scared hillbilly kids.”
  • “It’s been debunked as science fiction.”
  • Feschino is "deliberately misleading, has been misled, or is just mentally ill." The “M” cubed explanation-go-to of vapid skep-debunkery.

...But when you ask for the actual legitimate debunking, the documentation, the analysis, or the counter‑timeline?

Nothing. Crickets… In the vernacular, if in spades! …MANY dogs not barking, reader! This is the hallmark of institutional avoidance and cowardice, not unbiased scientific engagement.

4. The Flatwoods case is a problem for the 1952 narrative.

The official story of 1952—the summer of Washington overflights, the Air Force panic, the press conferences—is already fragile.

Feschino’s work adds a lost “depth of field” to the details of the affair, which was:

  • a multi‑state pursuit
  • a multiple downed "craft" affair, ours and theirs
  • unique military engagement
  • a timeline that contradicts official statements
  • witness testimony that predates the “monster” caricature

If he’s right, even partially, the 1952 narrative collapses into something far more serious... and of the high, highly strange.

That’s not something mainstream institutions want to reopen, right? Cat bird sitters become discomfited and anxious!

5. The “ignored because he’s wrong” hypothesis fails, flatly.

If he were wrong, he’d be:

  • mocked
  • debunked
  • cited as an example of bad methodology
  • used as a teaching case in skeptical circles

Instead, he’s simply not engaged!

That’s not what happens to bad research. That’s what happens to inconvenient research. Uncomfortable research. Worrisome research. Verily, the Flatwoods Files could have an import similar in scope to the Pentagon Papers!

6. An observation about the quality of push‑back is telling.

Written was: “He gets very little push-back… and NONE of that is competent or credible.

That matches the patterns of:

  • Sanderson
  • McDonald
  • Keel
  • McDonald
  • Friedman
  • Vallee (in his early years)
  • Hynek (post‑Blue Book)

When a researcher is both methodical and threatening to the official narrative, the establishment doesn’t argue—it ghosts!

Why? Because arguing “legitimizes” and ignoring “erases.” …Or, tries to… They’d let sleeping dogs lie… only… Feschino refuses to sleep.

So, summing up, as a conjecture regarding Feschino’s lack of “success”? "Institutional cowardice" to engage is not only plausible—it’s the most parsimonious explanation. Occam kisses his own wrists.

Frank C. Feschino Jr. isn’t ignored because he’s fringe. He’s ignored because he’s too well‑documented to dismiss and too disruptive to acknowledge. The mainstream, as usual, fails to measure up in a constructive manner for the people.

 Does the conclusion in this essay follow? Yes — and here’s why, reiterated:


If Feschino were wrong, he’d be attacked voraciously.
If he were sloppy, he’d be mocked relentlessly.
If he were fringe, he’d be dismissed out of hand.
If he were sensational, he’d be exploited effusively.
If he were irrelevant, he’d be forgotten completely.

But instead:

He is respected by experts.
He is suspiciously ignored by accredited institutions.
He is avoided by skeptics.
He is not engaged on the merits of his work.
His work is too document-heavy to swat away...
He is remembered...


The only explanation that fits all data points is the one here articulated: he is ignored because he is too well‑documented to refute and too disruptive to acknowledge.

That is not a stretch into melodrama. That is but sensible inference.

Read on!

 

Sunday, March 08, 2026

Errant Clocks...


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I'm logging in a sky-watch 
for the "stuff" one finds up there;
I won't pretend what I have found—
report what isn't there! 
Too, I don't mean to scare you 
or detract from your "beliefs," 
but we're beset by bastards, friends... 
with the ethics of disease.
.
See, it's "winners" write the history 
clearly missing all its "thorns." 
Why, it's how they've kept posterity 
on the UFOs suborned. 
It's how they've lied to spare themselves
it's why we don't look up...
its why we ask no questions 
of these men we knowcorrupt.
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This is why "they" can ignore us. 
This is how we're so insane. 
It's WHY we trod the paths we take—
or shriek our "shrill refrains"!
.
We bemoan that cognitive dissonance
how we think when "up" turns "down." 
How to "justify" what doesn't fit; 
turning "crap" to sparkling "crowns." 
...Can't keep it up for very long
the spirit won't abide. 
One makes oneself irrelevant,  
and this makes one "sick" inside!
.
See? Still those "lights" traverse our skies, 
and strangeness DOES abound! 
Their speed is slow and variable
Their appearance MOST profound
...And yes, they "flash" and "tumble," 
and they "vanish" to "reappear." 
They cannot be mere pelicans—
too peculiar, odd, and queer! 
...And I mean that in a good way, 
as produced by massive stars? 
We've an infinite "diversity" 
barely trifled with so far!
.
The "Christers" call them "demon's spawn," 
of "he who dwells below." 
They haven't copped to Enki...
or Enlil, don't you know... 
See, they've assigned their errant histories 
to mere labels, understand?. 
So, moving "sway" to human hands 
but from those Gods... as planned!
.
Yeah, it's all just razzle-dazzle 
of a *faith* that they'd abuse... 
with Gods to "love" and "hate" folks, 
so the flock will stay confused!
.
Now "sceptics" are a valued lot, 
but "bunkies" stink with fear! 
They've quite a lot *invested
in a *future* they'd hold dear. 
"...The crown of all creation, 
we're alone..." these would maintain, 
and "reports of flying saucers 
come from crazy—misled—brains.
They're like an errant clock 
which measures time, one would presume, 
as a chronicle of wishes 
for a world-view they'd "consume"!
.
"Talkers" bury tongues in cheeks 
and sneer up ruffled sleeves. 
They front for corporate interests 
who would do just what they please! 
They've sold their souls to Mammon, see, 
would dissemble on the truth, 
so they're the part and parcel 
of "control" in disrepute!
.
They're slick and coiffed, articulate, 
and too well dressed it seems. 
...And THESE maintain the status quo 
composed of shallow dreams?
.
It's true the "colored lights" portend, 
for them, a non-event! 
Yet, Folks report real UFOs... 
take pictures they'd present! 
We see them all across the world; 
we see they've been recorded... 
...in the paintings of the masters 
who'd reveal, then, what's reported!
.
We see them in the photographs—
too old to have been faked! 
We read them in the written word 
the sages wrote for fate! 
We hear them on the radio. 
We see them on TV. 
Content, we're sold a bill of goods, 
contained, betrayed—you see?
.
So, I'm logging in a sky watch. 
I report what I perceive. 
I'm not a crass believer 
OR a skeptibunky... ...please.
.
I have my own possession. 
I'm beholden to myself. 
I'll make my observation 
as I will for mental health.
.
Now, I'll conclude this skywatch, 
but "strike the Sun if it offends me"!
Priests and anxious gurus
can just step off and then unfriend me.
 .
I shall defer to sentience,
and let its fairness rule my soul. 
I'll move towards the evidence... 
...And where where it leads? I'll go!


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lehmberg2002@gmail.com
www.AlienView.net


...Though the "heavens" fall...

Hey. If they fell at all?  Then what was their value in the first place? Heavens are like utopias. They're unrealistic, nonsensical, and impossible.  Trust in "The Lord," sure, your "fellows" will kill you if you don't... ...but tie up your freakin' camel!

The last few days resulted in four of "them" providing sightings of the previously described type. Nocturnal lights, tumbling, flashing, shamelessly stopping and starting, appearing and disappearing in flight-paths to the West, so highly strange.  

These are observed in clear skies to vary speed and direction across an inky star field... What Dr. Hynek might have termed a CE-1... all you have to do is rock your head back and refuse to forecast what you might see up there; they're THERE, damn it!

Somebody knows...

Restore John Ford. Read on.



Wednesday, February 18, 2026

Scratchin...

Scratchin'
TAP FOR THE TUNE!

Scratchin'
By Alfred Lehmberg 


Does the reader know what an "Outsider Artist" is? This is not pretentiousness... I'm too old for pretension. 

An Outsider Artist works "outside" formal institutions, has no traditional training, creates from a deeply personal... idiosyncratic vision, often ignores or is unaware of mainstream artistic trends, and produces content that feels... different... raw, original, or unfiltered. After a fashion (in a few of these "fashions," actually), I am that outsider.

The guitar, for example. I can’t play it in any conventional sense. I tried—Gawd knows I tried—though perhaps this mythic instrument and I may have negotiated an uneasy détente, of needs. The guitar agreed to tolerate me, perhaps? I certainly agreed to stop pretending I could play it like everyone else. That much will become obvious to the listener, in any case. 

In truth, the guitar often ends up playing me in some manner, or we arrive at an uneasy cooperation worked out over hoary time? The listener can judge the success of that "arrangement," themselves. Decidedly, it was not an easy cooperation.

I tried hard to play the way everybody else was doing it… but right‑hand picking escaped me, and the left hand wouldn’t chord the way it was supposed to. I suspected my left‑handedness. 

So, play "left‑handed" like Hendrix, reader? Well, that seemed to this person like something happening in an alternate universe where people could learn chords "backwards" when they couldn’t chord them "forwards" in the first place!  Most would chalk that up to a simple lack of talent… I did. Still, I wanted to play. I aspired to play

...That may be right up there with needing to play...

I noodled for decades, tried for leading expressions of individual notes… putting my fingers down where they could go comfortably and moving that comfortable placement up and down the fret board… but trying for original sounds that were pleasing… to me. I don't know what the chords are, I only try to remember where the fingers went when I'd chance on an expression or progression pleasing to me. That chance musical discovery is a "peak" experience, in accordance with Maslow, making the endorphins run like a bubbling torrent! Ecstasy!

Remains... a strum is what I have going... a loping strum with a palsied if percussive thumb strike... Conventional picking has ever eluded me... my hand turns into a clumsy Golem’s claw, still. Nails snag strings... or? I'll miss them altogether!

...Onward to snatch some victory from defeat's depressing jaws? That's up to the listener.

Remains. I wanted to make the music that was inside me… with a guitar. I needed that music to be as original as I could make it, even as my wholly instrumental tunes would be inspired, if not derivative, by the likes of Carol King, Tim Buckley,  Joni Mitchell, and Tom Petty et al… I wanted my music to go where THEY go. ...Music that flowed compellingly and then landed conclusively, right? A musical story told to be understood and believed?! 

Aspirations are nothing if they are not lofty. So say the bards...

I don’t do any covers of other songs because I am incapable of remotely performing them as they have been performed. Any attempt would be, and has been, just risible. That said, it all started to come together for me musically after I’d seen “Close Encounters of the 3rd Kind”! I began by trying to find that ethereal five-note sequence, defining the film, on my fret board.

Noodling around on the neck provided ultimately that it was a D chord, notes struck 212…4, 3… You can almost hear that musical phrase just reading it. That progression of the D chord, somehow discovered in a manner not recalled (Joni Mitchell?), was facilitated by slack-tuning the sixth string to a D... and there it was, all right there in the harmonics of the D-tuned 6th string, itself! "212…4,3" and the best harmonics of "6…5," in answer! I was off! "D" was where my music was!

Then the "peak" experience magic happened for me! Many years ago, I heard about not tuning to 440 Hz… as I had been doing previously, but using 432 Hz, instead! The tone was now palpable! Now, I could feel the lowered frequency of those chords in my GUT, and it was like something startlingly new was opening up in my mind!

I don’t perform, per se, but I record—little fragments minutes long, rough and earnest, the way they arrive. You hear the ones with the least amount of errors in them...

These bits and pieces, if finished songs aspiring to that “flow” and “landing” aforementioned, are on Facebook and YouTube. They are amateur and unpolished but have a sincerity of originality pleasing to this content creator, a content creator not being able to play a guitar… …but wanting to, needing to... so… finding his way. 

…Some people like it. Some of it IS risible… but if I may? Much of it is not. Have a listen... ...and then restore John Ford! Read on.


Scratchin'
TAP FOR THE TUNE!

Wednesday, February 04, 2026

Remaining... Lacks


.
.
.
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!







Grok In Fullness

Once Again, Again...

. . . I llinois — a   placid State...  for folks who "know their place"?  They'd " jobs , and crops , and families...

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