In Pride Ensconced

.

.

.

We spread our arms, beseech the sky, 

but wonder why we even try 

to elevate our species' place (?)

if much we touch is soon disgraced.  

...We've potential not ignorable; 

we'd fall short... I'd bet?  Deplorable.  

...And what of saucers flying there... 

perhaps with "persons" filled—mon frère? 

Perhaps we're under observation 

...though taken for an infestation? 

Waiting for some swift correction 

from those "persons" passed detection?

We don't know! The best response! 

Yet, we're in faux pride ensconced! 

Bad enough—won't you agree—

where one's compelled to callous knees!

We aren't careful in that void; 

we won't make a sentient choice. 

Hearing what we want to hear, 

we're wasteful as regards what's dear:  

...Life and children we'd respect, 

so give them more than sad neglect!!!  

Be our planet's steward—friend—

and not a life-force we offend!

Are we wasteful... loathsome beings 

with nothing but our gall and spleen... 

to keep us from complete disaster—

groveling for some mango master?

These "leaders" will short-change your schooling, 

Conjure it to be harsh and grueling. 

School so bad it hurts the soul, 

so, "to it," you are loath to go. 

See, there they keep you stupid, friend, 

to reproduce what they contend... 

is *best* for hapless "feebs" and "peeps"... 

alive to keep THEM warm, you see?

Some stuff I learned in school...

were the histories, folks, that we abuse...

These provided demonstrations!

Compassion does not kill a nation!

In point of fact, its lack of same

is what would prove to be at blame!

See, a "nation" can, at best, be sussed

by how it treats the least of us!

.

Keep "art" and "music" out of schools?  

Then, sing the newest MAGA blues! 

Watch soulless drudges leave those halls 

to empty lives devoid—appalled! 

...Art and Music elevate... 

provoking questions changing fate, 

but we find out what's planned for us: 

trust betrayed... by psychotic thugs...

"Muzak's" soothing, what you think? 

...But then we smell its fishy stink. 

Music is constructive feeling; 

it's art at best and THEN we're dealing! 

No, save a buck on art and music

—lose your soul, I think, abusing—

all that these might somehow be... 

if these should KEEP their sanity!

Once in school, a teacher's "paid": 

"teach damaged kids a damaged trade"—

standard English, small respect, 

some life beyond that child's neglect? 

...Teaching nothing as it happens, 

they just suit sad circumstances...  

They're among our disrespected, 

with some malice they're objected, 

paid small pittance, little mind, 

and no respect one comes to find...

Their public school's a shell shocked hole: 

no programs, futures, books, or soul! 

We've no money we could spend... 

providing what this needs to mend?  

"School" is so much bilious crap.  

We just don't care, and that's a fact.

...A lot more teachers, good surroundings—

make the learning valued, charming. 

Perchance to make kids... LOVE their school? 

Have them grasp this golden rule? 

Make their learning real enough 

to TRULY make them better off?

Pull them from their squalid holes? 

Give them "chances" yours would know? 

Too, empty prisons you have made 

to counter disrespect now paid!  

...You know... that mechanism you've maintained 

to keep REAL slavery a legal bane!

I know there's more than what we see: 

a quantum relativity! 

A marriage of the macro spaces 

with causal subatomic places! 

Tiny strings in humming loops 

to vibrate out our hand-held truths... 

in ways we shan't perceive at all... 

from space and time, and MORE, this calls!

I contest our frame of reference.  

Aristotle's lost my deference. 

We don't hold the "center spot! 

To think we should? ...Hubristic rot!

See, we are still conflicted by... 

those "crystal spheres" old Greeks contrived!

These disserve us, we have found.

For the sun? They're a thick black cloud!

Aristotle WAS quite wrong, 

but Christian churches played along. 

They would keep his lie alive, 

that we were "chosen"! We bought that jive! 

That "man" should wear "creation's crown," 

and not be labeled as its clown! 

That men were always God's proud chosen, 

"masters" of all space emboldened... 

for all their faith... these facile dreams 

that—at the LAST—they're not obscene!

Saucers flit and dance... or flicker 

as our sordid games got sicker! 

We don't ask ourselves those questions

 curing, likely, mad obsessions...

People suffer every day 

so others can "pretend" they're "prey"... 

Fearsome swine absolved of guilt

who live in castles sheeple built... 

They're "sitting in the tallest cotton" 

with souls corrupted—grace forgotten!

People starve, and rot or stink 

while others sip exotic drinks. 

These people fret in misery, 

but faithful, kiss their rosaries...

...Trained to put their faith in God, 

these folks presume they need his nod... 

to ask, at last, the honest questions

—real answers—sans rejection!  

Though they're remiss if they believe 

untested faith provides relief, 

a life has value if examined... 

reconsidered... then re-examined!

...Otherwise, it's valueless...

...sans all worth and vacuous.

Some of us ARE good as gold! 

Some of us are hard and cold. 

Most are kept in shifting shadows, 

ignorant, misguided—callow.

These, the ones who do the work, 

are kept in debt like foolish jerks, 

so some can have their crystal fixtures, 

autumn homes—expensive pictures...

This "attitude," so mis-configured, 

serves us up our "dung," it's figured...

Those on "top" would stay the same, 

and "write" their rules—ensure their game. 

They would stay their harmful course 

so unconcerned—sans all remorse... 

blithely building "grand estates" 

which sprawl behind their walls and gates.  

Outside the gates it's hand to mouth... 

and mortgages are headed south.  

Health insurance is denied; 

the working poor are criminalized.  

The gulfs between them getting wider, 

"elites" connive like cunning spiders...

We are—merely—bugs to them; 

we work and bleed as they condemn.  

We lubricate their grand existence... 

in—underbalanced—coexistence 

then they mock our harsh travail 

that they've imposed and where we flail...

Plus they keep the secrets, plainly—

clasp them to their breasts insanely. 

They won't give us what we need, 

as we are here to work and breed... 

to make more hands for them to use, 

souls that they corrupt, abuse...

...And still our questions raise soiled hands, 

beseech the heavens as they stand... 

and ask it, "please... what's going on..." 

...as we're used up and preyed upon.

lehmberg2002@gmail.com
www.AlienView.net

Restore John Ford... read on.

Unswung, So Missed?

Unswung, So Missed?

by Alfred Lehmberg

One wonders if this is not "just one of those things." You know, one of those "times" where we had every opportunity and capability to do the "right thing"... and demurred to our dismay, our discredit, and our dishonor... 

Do we behold another "thing" on which our humanity very tragically misses the point, if not the swing... like we behold these pearls but must overcome our swinishness to have that necessary appreciation for them when they're cast before us. Must this always be the case, reader, where we could perhaps make it somehow less important to make an obscene profit singularly funneled or where ALL the credit must go to its narrowest focus... 

We're humanity and could be a team sharing profit and credit. Teaming up?! We could populate our asteroid belt and perhaps live like gods? ...But we get ahead of ourselves.

Cut to the chase? Must these near-Earth asteroids be ONLY the "Planet Killers" we paint them out to be in our fervid "asteroid lore"? 

These monstrous bolides of priceless metal sailing down so close to Earth's orbit seem like they could be something else, entirely. ...Could they not BE but an intimated boon? Could they not be those aforementioned pearls, cast?

On the orbit simulations animator (and a reader can find the aforementioned at the NASA URL [if not destroyed by DOGE]), the slowly tumbling potential treasure troves DO resemble simple stones across an inky brook of empty interplanetary space... but are they not merely places for a humanity to more easily step... and then courageously stand as it strides away... and very necessarily away... from the planet of its birth? 

Are they not but habitats in the form of eventual slingshots to the stars! Are they not but huge collections of concentrated wealth not taken from the bosom of our abused planet mother! Are they not but GIFT more than they are THREAT! Are they not but BOON, and not the catastrophe inculcated! 

Are they not but a BLESSING and not a curse? Are they not but an OPPORTUNITY to excel and NOT an impossible hurdle to crash over or into! Are they not but our SALVATION! Are they not but our DELIVERANCE! Are they not but our REDEMPTION! 

Astonishingly, this is not hyperbole and entirely reasonable only given the will to make it so! We can do such astonishing things given "the will"! Sincerely, one can only be disgusted with an aggregate humanity standing around wringing its petulant little hands and whining every time one of these things sails... fortuitously... by. 

One's embarrassed by an aggregate humanity apparently oblivious to the wealth that these cruising bolides more than abundantly indicate. Moreover, one's angered by the non-elected leadership allowed by an aggregate humanity encouraging this kind of shortsighted and reptilian cultural mal-behavior! 

What's everybody so worried about anyway, unless we just LET these asteroids smash into us like we were deer, stunned frozen on the ethereal highway in approaching cosmic headlights... and then that's just nature's way of letting us know how cowardly and stupid we were... right? So, cheer up! 

No, say what you want about Humanity, but it is life, after all, and life finds a way, as we have learned! No, we were BORN to capture these things like they were wooly mammoths! We were MADE to steer these things around the sky like beasts of heavy burden! 

Consider, all of that inconceivable wealth unfettered by having to usurp some hapless indigenous population to get at it... and, what is spent on war and preparation for war currently, our CURRENT expressed "will," again? It seems like all THAT was an astonishingly astounding astronomical number, boy howdy! 

In that noble pursuit, we've nothing to lose and everything to gain for our boldness... besides, our boldness will likely bring mighty forces to our aid! What forces? Why, only those forces required of ourselves... come what may! Time to give a thought to getting REAL, friends, neighbors... and entities lurking! 

This much-maligned cloud looks to the perspicacious observer to be virtually ALL silver lining... cloud, dealt with... if we want it to be. Will is all it takes. Read on!

"F" You!

You know who you are!

.

.

.

We'd rather live what's real and suffer, 

tied to "wheels" and rent asunder

—slapped by fate and brought down low—

before we'd chance the paths you show.

. 

You've ever earned our disrespect. 

You have performed in glad neglect, 

and lacking bruises for your shame 

you prosecute to shift the blame!

.  

This explains why we've no trust 

and why we're filled with rank disgust. 

See, trust is what you would betray 

as from our bones our flesh you'd flay!

.

So, we're compelled to our expressions—

we'll call it our provoked obsession. 

It satisfies and sustains, thus 

even as it frets and pains us! 

See, we'd proffer we're no longer fooled... 

by what you'd teach in canted schools!

.

Too, we know that we're mere "bugs" to you; 

We know that you can crush us—true... 

We know you'd swat us—like a fly—

and instantly forget we died.

.

Still, we bare our sweating chests 

and DARE your "best-shot" as our test!  

"F" you and your bully pulpit!  

"F" you and your shiftless profit!  

"F" you, you can make a "gesture" 

and—in conjecture—provide our censure!

.

Though, that won't make you less a thug—

a common psychopathic slug. 

It won't leave you that much richer, 

fill your belly—draw your pitcher. 

It won't keep your fear at bay. 

It won't make us go away; 

We come back—another form! 

We are your unrest!  The storm!

.

Conspiracy? It lives and breathes! 

It's but a symptom of disease 

betraying us to keep us backward—

at the whim of brigands ... bastards!  

Persons not unlike yourself... 

"right-wing swine"; but, we repeat ourselves.

.

We're awash in "its" convenience; 

numbed and bullied, we won't see "it." 

We don't stand on solid ground, 

'cause culture is contrived—unsound! 

Why, we could go right up in smoke, 

a killer bug or comet, folks!

.

We won't even cop to truth 

that all admit corrupts our youth. 

See, YOU'RE content to build more jails 

where righteous scholarship is failed, 

plus YOU'RE so mean you'd fill that prison, 

slavery "up to date"—your mission!?

.

See? You want mere DUMMIES crossing you 

to keep their threat, then, minuscule...  

A smarter mob provides no service.  

They contrive to make you nervous! 

We don't matter! We never did! 

We're 'tissues' "used" with which you're "rid"!

.

Keep us stupid, wrapped in "sports," 

producing brand new "guns" and "forts"... 

'till those of us provide excuse—

are ash-canned like those tissues used...

.

We're not important. We don't matter—

just mere motes, but we heat water.  

Kept alive and "left alone" 

until we "threaten"—then we're "mown."

.

We'd look UP superfluous—

We are sentient, so you "drug us"... 

...with the newest "Action film," 

"Super Bowls," or some "scandal's" filth.

.

It seems to us the systems made 

to keep us stupid, slaves—afraid, 

and we perceive it clear and fine 

that no thing's done that's not contrived! 

It's smoke and mirrors, spin and dazzle 

...keeps one guessing, hungry ...hassled

 ... keeps us "working," buying "stuff" 

that wears too fast—it's not enough!

.

Perhaps "it's best we suffer this" 

to keep an edge that makes YOU rich?  

Perhaps we need "too many people" 

to "pick and choose" from—just "cut" the "feeble"? 

Perhaps we should avoid the stars—

retreat from space, imbibe at "bars," 

and live our lives in hapless squalor, 

...so you can live the "good-life"—"father"?

.

The "haves" control the "have-nots" then—

that's the way it's always been. 

The "have-nots" cannot get ahead—

were they to "try" they'd be "shot dead."

.

...But NOW we'd speak to everyone! 

The word gets out, and words are guns! 

Ideas at the speed of light 

are reaching out to brighten night! 

Everyone's a "TV station"

—not regulated? A CELEBRATION! 

...And we can read the words of many 

unfiltered by the censor's plenty. 

We don't have to wait for answers! 

We can "find," and "cure," our "cancers"!

.

We re-grasp our very lives! 

Yes! Snatch them back from men despised! 

...Men, who first, despising us...

—so proving they'd betray our trust—

enriched themselves at our expense 

by prosecuting that said offence!

.

It's hard enough to hoe their row 

if you've been blessed with any dough. 

It's hard to laugh or see the sky, 

or "sit around" and wonder "why"!  

Your struggle is travail and strife, 

so fear and terror should rule your life?!

.

It's difficult when so distracted 

by the price the man's exacted... 

when he's forced you to be born

 in ignorance... ...that he suborns! 

There is much that he pretends. 

What he hides upsets—offends, 

and YOU, distracted, harried—bothered, 

...are used like so much cannon fodder.

.

Disrespected, and ignored 

(...until you bother "priests" and "lords"...). 

You blithely do their "earnest" bidding, 

ignore the saucers (leaping—flitting!), 

and place your nose upon their stones 

and grind, for them, your powdered bones.

.

We ALL could sit on righteous thrones! 

Autonomy is ours alone! 

We have earned it in the way 

we're brought into this world... to PAY.

.

Much "respected" before we're born— 

we're birthed to find the real horn! 

Then we're scourged as we discover 

disrespect is then "recovered," 

and treated like we're vermin—LICE— 

we're snatched —away— from paradise!  

Yes! Prenatal: good to go, though, 

postnatal kids hoe different rows! 

.

Worse, we don't have a "wit" or "clue" 

that what we're handed's "bent askew*"! 

We ignore our homelessness, 

we rape the Earth (!), but I digress. 

We can't earn our elevation—

can't provide for our progression.  

So we take the "shortcuts" there, 

attempting to then get somewhere!

.

We're mired in a mud of malice—

hate is rampant, hot, and callous! 

Schools are nurseries for that hatred—

crowded, dirty, and outdated.

.

We despoil "the man's" perdition, 

will make him wallow late contrition, 

and *He* shall wander marked, despised, 

when folks become aware—get wise, 

and drive him from his airy reaches... 

those hateful... errant sons of bitches...

To all of these involved and due?

A heartfelt and well-meant "F" you!

You're the cause of what's endured!

You've left us lost and uninsured!

We've bigger fish to fry than you!

Again, with meaning! Friend? "F" you!

*This is a result of the public un-education system, neatly, and we've "culture" to thank. See, we're human and we get what we want! Currently (and disastrously!), Stupid is what we want! This citizen observes that "STUPID" has had it run! Observe it, don't "spin" it yourselves; what has been gained?! 

Salacious Rumors for cited and peer-reviewed facts? The insane and insensible sectarian for a fair and equitable secular? Christo-Nazi fascism for the aspiration to egalitarian and progressive democracy? Some fervid and divisive political insentience for the ambition to a thoughtful and inclusive political sentience? ...Hate for Love? Observe!

lehmberg2002@gmail.com
www.AlienView.net

.

"Conspiracy? It lives and breathes"! 

• 
  

Big ones—just around the corner, behind a tent flap, or hidden in plain view, and certainly not for your own "good," reader. Believe that meme at your peril.  Culture:  not friend or ally.

• 
  

Restore John Ford!

A Fable On The Lowest Common Denominator

.

.

.

The Universe is out there... 

and it shall not go away! 

Though, the trappings of the man 

corrupts its rhyme. 

Designed to keep you thinking, 

it still fans the flames of will—

to facilitate cognition 

and expand the cogent mind...

.
Still, you shall not have a lot of time 

to speculate and wonder!
Idle thinking is a pastime 

that the man must rape and plunder!
See, he alone shall take the time 

to satisfy his needs,
So he engineers a system 

that must keep you on your knees!
From the Government, through its churches,
To the corporate priest or king...
The disrespect is cultural; 

It becomes an obvious thing.

.

See, he demands that YOU be humble 

(while he struts behind your back!), 

and he works to keep you hungry—

that's his job. 

He'll take you to the finish

like the cowboy on a horse, 

then he'll spur you in the gut 

to hear you sob!

.
He's mean and arbitrary—

is "convenienced" as can be!
He doesn't care you're hurting... 

he just locks his gate, you see?
...And forget about "due process," 

or any "rights" you thought you had.
It's ALL for his convenience, 

and he'll use you like a rag!
You're nothing but a tool for him—

it's YOU who's wearing down!
So, It's YOU who'll heat his water... 

to be treated like his clown!!!

.

This BEGS for your autonomy!

That demand for some respect... 

where you'd earned it by the fact 

that you'd been born! 

For reasons "good" or "bad" 

(it doesn't matter one iota!) 

as it's you to be impaled on his "horn"!

.
It's why you need autonomy!

It's to disembowel your "kings";
It's to strangle all the "priests" 

with steaming innards found therein,
And italics notwithstanding, 

in poetics always FREE,
I can make the intimation 

this is NOT hyperbole!

Still, provoked to hyperbolics, 

I'm betrayed!  I'm burned and shy...
While, queerly... lights keep flying 

in my starry, starry skies!

.

Shadows are abiding 

in official slights of hand,

and the news will do its job 

to fog things up.

See, to keep a person fretful, 

uninformed, and in distraction

is the money in his bank 

and gourmet coffee in his cup!

.
Yes, there's much that he's not telling 

(Back behind his one-way glass),
And excuses rendered, plainly,
are ridiculous and crass.
It's a foul recrimination 

that I level at this shill
Who pretends that no conspiracy 

can exist against our will!
.

Posner is a poseur 

who proposes you've no sense!
Doc Shermer's mechanism? 

Contrived and facile nonsense!
Rank disinformation 

is the order of the day,
And most abuse their power... 

as you close your eyes to pray.

.,¸¸,.»§«,¸¸,.·´¯`·.,¸¸,.»§FABLE§«,¸¸,.·´¯`·.,¸¸,.»§«·.,¸¸,.

We watch him fake his sanctity 

with a hanky to his eye, 

looking dewy-eyed and grateful 

for his "Lord."  

A "doctor"—some local red-neck—

a bible in his hand, 

plus a pot gut "out to here" 

(near on the floor!).  

He's from the local School-board 

so is white-as-driven snow 

and he's kicking off the school year 

for the damned:  

He spews his bait and switch 

for ruined black kids unbelieving

of the lessons inculcated, 

as they're scammed.

.
He waxes words most "beautifully"—

has you "sing a Christian song";
I felt just like an idiot 

that I had to go along...*
Then he got into his Cadillac, 

he'd put his bible down,
And cooling off with AC, 

drove his house-girl out of town.

.

They'll visit mountain condos, 

where she'll try to "fluff him up,"
The view is million dollar, 

and appointments cost a lot.
And then there'll be the "party", 

and the ladies all make "nice",
But one, of needs, will walk outside: 

a break from lurid vice.
.
The remaining "powder" noses, 

and the rest ignore the sky,
But the house-girl heaves her dinner... 

near the saucer coasting by...
.
Distracting from the vomit 

or the games the rich men play,
A flying saucer's flying by 

as plain as sin or day!
The house-girl is astonished, 

then filled with monstrous shame—
Lost self-respect was palpable 

where she would not put a name!

.

...Like it'd caught her in the open,

and it saw her sad debasement—

was a witness to revulsion 

marred and smeared...

It stopped along its track,

then seemed to bob just like a cork...

and then it moved back in her face 

to get quite near!

.
She was frozen in her fearfulness, 

transfixed with fear you bet,
Forgotten was her sickness, 

but not the shame as yet.
Yes, she trembled at it's size, 

and the ease with which it moved—
Its soundlessness and shininess, 

it's STAR reflecting—huge!

.
She can see her own reflection (!)—

see the vomit on her chin!
She can see the lights behind her, 

like a fun house mirror, spin.
Then—just "that" fast—it's on its way, 

...like it hadn't even stopped.
And she wondered if it happened as, 

well out of sight, it dropped...

.

Resolve almost consumed her 

and she climbed the hardwood rail! 

She'd really rather jump than go indoors... 

See, she knew a greater truthfulness 

that had complicated things! 

She knew, right there! Goddamn it!

She IS something more than "whore." 

.
She looked down into blackness 

like a yawning gulping throat,
And she teetered on the brink 

of what she knows she'd miss the most...
She listened to the night sound 

and she heard a hooting owl;
It asked her who she thought she was. 

It clearly sneered and scowled!
.
Then, pitched recriminations 

in the squeaking of the bats,
The muted forest's murmur 

coming back from silence black!
It was like a celebration 

that the truth had hovered passed!
She took a breath, her strength renewed. 

 She laughed out loud, aghast!
.
The glibly hypocritical 

were doomed to sad despair,
And time was running out 

for cracker pot-guts to her rear.
SHE would "stay around" to see 

the knashing of their teeth,
As they choked their words... faux righteousness 

in denial—disbelief.
.
She stepped down from the hardwood; 

she squared her shoulders high!
She dressed and called a taxi. 

 She would try again to try.
.,¸¸,.»§«,¸¸,.·´¯`·.,¸¸,.»§«!»§«,¸¸,.·´¯`·.,¸¸,.»§«·.,¸¸,.

*A true story to this point...

lehmberg2002@gmail.com
www.AlienView.net

What makes a fable a fable? It's the talkin' animals makes it a fable... d'ja know that was required? Fables require talkin' animals because they communicate "truths" you wouldn't believe from a human? Perhaps. Pretend a cute gerbil just said that.

• 
  

The pot-gutted school administrator WAS real. The house-girl, of course, is a metaphor.  We're all the house-girl; the point is that there's always more than that seen, right? Nobody gets it all. Nobody. The grok of that is decidedly liberating.  It's the speaking owl...

• 
  

"Who..." are you?

• 
  

Verily, our planet presently bobs, disrespected, a slime-covered cork in a diseased and affected sea.  We who allow ourselves the arrogance of our centric beliefs, our pathetic cultural hubris, or even the imagined favor of a psychotic God... are doomed to massive disappointment, it's expected.  Such seems deserved.

• 
  

On "the man..."

• 
  

Some would even argue that that "necessity" for a "the man" we've ofttimes alluded to! You know, to provide an efficient structure for a growing population of individuals increasingly ill-suited psychologically, materially, and socially to survive that same population... this is NOT my sham and a hypocrisy. On its face with only that said, one is compelled to agree, of course.  Some structure is required where a justified complication of 300+ million persons demands it! Only a fool would think otherwise. Our society is hugely complicated. Some "structure" is necessary. Only, the "choice" is between a secular social democracy and sectarian fascist aristocracy... so there IS but a single choice!

• 
  

See, one finds that it is only a presumption that "the man" would have the individual's best interest at heart, in the process, and only a failing rule of efficacious—if overburdened—law to remotely encourage that best interest!  Law ...failing more and more and favoring the decidedly autocratic rich.  No justice there, eh?

• 
  

So, structure's not the problem per se, is it...? Only, why does "the man" ALWAYS have to be a reptile, when he could be... a mammal just as easily? Sure, the reptile can make the hard choices for humanity after the asteroid hits, they're great at cutting losses, but it lives only for NOW. The mammal lives for tomorrow. "Tomorrow" needs to thought of... as "now" impacts it so excessively... right? 

• 
  

Currently? Reptiles hold sway.

• 
  

See, the problem is that along with that aforementioned "necessary structure" we just talked about comes an accompanying betrayal so stark and obvious that the length, breadth, and depth of it stuns the credulity of the conscientious observer! It is almost completely demoralizing. ...Almost. More on that in its time, but it regards a betrayal of the social common denominator so deeply egregious that one is prone to be unconscious of it, of needs!

• 
  

Back at the ranch? Current Government betrays us by playing to the lowest, least informed, and most common of the common denominator—while baldly facilitating the fewest of us—providing an insider mechanism for its own enrichment at the egregious expense of all the rest of us... all the while maintaining an unstinting hypocrisy, as its standard, in regard to those ostensibly governed!  It's OK; they're never called on it.  See, we just can't believe they'd lie that much, that often, or for that long. Ironic, given they always have, eh? ...And since the founders who owned slaves, most of them!

• 
  

Church betrays us by playing to the lowest, least informed, and most common denominator, and, blithely inculcating their unsupported and bigoted hatreds (of such depth and depravity that these depravities would provide for the immediate intervention of single persons affecting similar behaviors), there exists a standing army of frightened and deluded mob-thinkers more than willing to effect torches and pitchforks for Gawd'n'country.  Hey! ...Given a self-ballyhooing "apocalypse" we do whatever "Gawd'n'country" want, y'all!  Black boots, brown shirts, and body armor only buttress that meme's support. These accessorize its reality. Such is MAGA and its bizarro world "prosperity" Jesus. MAGA? It Made America Go Away.

• 
  

Our institutions betray us... betraying the lowest, least informed, and most common denominator, and, slaving themselves to corporate interests reptilian in aspect and psychopathic in attitude, still favoring the few at the expense of the many. There can be little argument proffered as regards the betrayal by our legacy media in every aspect of consideration here iterated, the highly spun lowest common denominator employed there is to facilitate the manipulation and control by same. See—we are the man's handily-created and abused "house-girl."

• 
  

Society betrays the hapless majority and culture is NOT your friend, either; no, culture tolerates you only to the degree you serve it with seeming selflessness.  That these entities of "society" and "culture" hate the individual is plain and has ever been so. Consider the nasty treatment of minorities just lately as exacerbated by TRUMPCO. Our wholly unchecked overpopulation is abundant evidence of that. 

See, the more persons there are the less any one of them has to be respected, accounted for—held in regard... the more "drones" and "bitches" there are for the landed few to divide and play, one against the other, for their amusement, convenience, and profit.  It remains that this provides for a world where 25,000 kids starve to death every day, today in 2025. We fight billionaire-funded CULTURE wars when we should be fighting people-powered CLASS wars!

• 
  

Standing just out of the cultural firelight and perhaps as revolted by this humanity as we are found to be revolt-able is this... indefatigable ...other.  The Alien.  See, we exist reader, so, in a universe this large? They must exist... too! Nothing happens once.

• 
  

Call this extra-natural being "God The Father" if you must... ...that looming singularity of concrescence... ...the Clock-maker, or the flying spaghetti-monster... ...it remains. This "other," this "alien" is extant to the evidential power of seven very compelling categories** in a calculated percentage number so close to "1" (or 100%) that the difference is entirety meaningless... ...A decimal point followed a string of nines so long that one gives up counting them as they run off the page and finally march into another country on the planet... the nines go on... to the nines!  Nines, reader... to the nines!

• 
  

I'm sure that the honored person reading this has an unsettling intuition regarding all that, eh? In truth, we are not alone, that very confidently conjectured presence exceeds present understanding, and it is the future, still. Heady stuff. But "stuff," still. ...Still!  STILL!

• 
  

Smile knowingly at your opponents to a man or woman, those demanding proof they won't accept, couldn't understand, and won't look for, anyway.

• 
  

...Then Restore John Ford!

• 
  

Read on.

.,¸¸,.»§«,¸¸,.·´¯`·.,¸¸,.»§^§«,¸¸,.·´¯`·.,¸¸,.»§«·.,¸¸,.

** Yes! Wholly unconsidered and even ignored by these mainstream "scientists" inexplicably duped to their insentience, apparently, by "fringe morons and intellectual lightweights," (like that was reasonable?!) is a massive evidentiary pathway known across seven categories to include:

(1) the Historical textual documents glyphed in soot and cut into stone or otherwise writ in ancient inks on cracking vellum,

(2) the extant Artistic Historical from primitives on the walls of their caves, through Middle-Age wood-cuts, to the masterpieces of the masters on rough canvas and slick gesso later on

(3) the quality Anecdotal reports backed up by multiple vetted witnesses and corresponding radar...

(4) genuine Photographic efforts prior to digital photography provided by Dr. Bruce Maccabee, et sig al...

(5) extant Physical Traces of landing UFOs as laboriously outlined by Ted Phillips and others...

(6) the "wholly Personal" evidence, if you have any as I do and...

(7) even the Mathematical, reader, as it is described in modern physics regarding the consequences of satisfying requirements accounting for "the formality of the actual occurrence" of something physical in this multi-verse (humanity "happened" so "others" must) but, specifically, as it is described in Probability One by Amir D. Aczel, PhD.

Alien intelligence, reader, is a certainty!  Moreover, the evidence—entirely if ironically in concert with Fermi—is that they are here. 

Pack that pipe and spark it.

.,¸¸,.»§«,¸¸,.·´¯`·.,¸¸,.»§^§«,¸¸,.·´¯`·.,¸¸,.»§«·.,¸¸,.