...Alien Invasion Never Looked So Good...

There has always been fearful, if still, idle talk about... "The Man."

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The proverbial "Man"...

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Who ~is~ "he"? Who or what is "he"? Who is "the Man"? Does this nebulous entity even exist? Many condescend to "face-palm" and "eye-roll." Belay that, or be at peril.

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Risking the cowardly sneers of those "bought-in" around you, but still wondering if the unsettling concept even begins to hold water... can be remotely true... the disconcerted reader can begin to suspect that the aforementioned concept as regards "the man..." ...must hold an ocean of water.  Yes... Ocean systems of water, reader!  See, this is all simply a function of on which side of the bullhorn you find yourself; the side in control of same... and the other side.  The 1% (?) ... or the 99, eh?

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So no, "They" are not "aliens from space," if that's what you thought I was on about. Uh-uh. Today I speak of the "they" that is "us"... ...I'd only be hoping for aliens from space... ...given the flip side is the spawn of Pee-pee DondO and his psychopathic lot. We digress...

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Yes, *They* (the man) exist(s) as sure as "intelligent designers" put spots on little green apples and then buries real news behind a tabloid dross of "Runaway Brides, penis moles, and whoring Secret Service Agents..." such is easily seen to be so.

Conservatively? Three of these persons alluded to in a hundred—more of your fellow citizens, reader, when under duress (!)—will bleed you out, dispassionately, for the laces on your shoes. That's right. Fact.

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This is the "them" of which I speak.  This may be truth told to be understood so hopefully believed.  I say true.

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More truth? Less than one of these aforementioned three will be a woman. Much, much less than a fraction of that will be a person of color.  More Truth.  White people, it would seem, have a special proclivity for psychopathy, but I digress.

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Back at the ranch, "Ideal Society" is—and always has been—a means to protect the other 97 Human Beings from being abused, too egregiously, with regard to the self-serving activities of that terrible, even if necessary, 3%...

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Briefly, in a required digression: sociopathy becomes *necessary*—by way of necessity—because we require an ongoing inoculation from these sociopaths or we get weak as a species... ...and it is the rare occasion—because of our prosecuted complacencies, contrariness, and inconsistencies— that the sociopath's way, "way" is the *survival* way—the only way—a ballast-cutting "forward escape" from disaster measure; it is what happens after the asteroid hits, perhaps. Sorry if you're on the "ballast," but "Survival" at any cost. ...Remember when our darling Tom Cruise had to kill Tim Robbins in "War Of The Worlds"? There's heat where the rubber meets the road...

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Lately, that society accelerates AWAY from its responsibility to—at least minimally—protect its citizenry from the aforementioned, reader, even to the point of recently letting Americans rot in the sun... ...to be eaten by rats, abandoned pets, and alligators for a full week as a result of Hurricane Katrina...?

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...We're not getting our money's worth? You think?

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Did you ever believe that this would be America, reader? I'm well over 70, remember. I'd endured Vietnam and Watergate.  I'd foolishly thought we'd been made more immune to Graft, Conspiracy, Corruption, authoritarianism, and irrational war. I was wrong. I never would have predicted this. ...How bad we would let it get... 

It's bad... even with hope, and there's hope; it's bad.

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I'm a retired soldier and a certified school teacher who has ever only tried to be an asset to my group of fellow humans, reader. I'm no radical even as I have a mind of my own and prefer to think out of the box like any good American...

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...What I thought was a good American at any rate...

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I've a wife and family and quality friends... they deserve a better society than what is presently (and illegitimately) being served in a corporate-driven administration's crony-istic insider's prosecution of creeping theocracy and blooming fascism... ...a criminal society of even Democrats—and worse—prosecuted in a predatory and insensate culture... ...a culture by which innocence and decency can eventually prove fatal?

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What hides in there? We shall see, I suspect...

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Who are "they." Who are these persons, fellow human beings who blithely disrespect us so, who steal our savings, corrupt our testable faith, lie to our collective faces, murder our children, infect us with disease, direct us to pollute our food and air... ...even destroy our planet?

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Sadly, I'd have to say "us," ultimately... every individual who buys in, supports, and facilitates the status quo... (ME, even!) but we're just piccolo players in the vast orchestra, reader! Who's conducting this mess? That's the issue! The short answer?

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Them...

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Well, forgetting for a moment that the insidious "THEY" are too handily expressed in the persons around you... ...they are those who DARE to sneer at you from their dodgy castle ramparts of three parts jingo-istics, two parts reflexive ignorance and one part canted citation...? Not these so much... ...these are more to be pitied...

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Who are... ..."they"?

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Well...

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"They" are... ...the privileged arbitrary, the stealthy unelected, and far too many of the fraudulently elected.

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"They," are those who have, and having had, would keep on having... despite an aggregate detriment to the common good of those who "have not."

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"They," are in possession of information that would credit or be to the advantage of anyone who knew... ...specifically...outlining why most know not.

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"They" are the selfish secret keepers.

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"They" are the jealous manipulators of a hijacked mainstream.

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"They" are the ardent covetous who encourage bland employees while they discourage ones who might think more critically.

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"They" are the ones with hidden agendas, duplicitous plans, and secret programs.

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"They" are the few even glad to unethically, even cruelly, profit at the expense of the many.

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"They" are above the law, outside reasonable ethics, practice a sociopathic amorality, and hold the many enthralled... but beneath their privileged contempt...

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...Not to put too fine a point on it, eh reader?  Though, parallels are easily drawn from current events.

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Folks—As I wrote before, don't credit or enable that which disrespects you; don't reward or compensate that which fails to satisfy you. Withhold your vote, your sympathy, and your dollars. Deny it your essence, your support, and your consideration. Refuse it your concern, your regard, or your facilitation.  Turn on, Tune in, and drop out, even, where the reader can muster the stone and the rough row to hoe. 

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Know them by the fruit they have produced:

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... A destroyed economy ... a shrinking middle class ... a degraded health care system ... a diseased environment ... a corrupted military force ... a degraded Bill of Rights ... a degraded quality of life ... Fear and loathing ... Increased Crime ... Pederasty ... Incompetent Cronyism ... laughable ballots ... the rape of our republic ... death ... torture ... unrestricted sociopathy ... tyranny ... a complete disruption of the rule of law ... the list could go on and on as you know it must...

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Know them by their fruit... destruction and degradation... ...and such is the fruit?

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Believe me, we don't really want a fraction of what they're trying to sell us, not really. We are enthralled with EVIL presently, reader... faithless, covetous, gluttonous, jealous, murderous... ...gibbering and capering evil, kind Sir and good Madam.

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Indeed—hold "them" beneath your contempt, concern, and consideration as you would any soul killer. The soul you save will be your own.

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...Alien Invasion from beyond the stars never looked so good... you know...?

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Read on...

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lehmberg2002@gmail.com

www.AlienView.net

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...Trust The Night... Defense Of Poetic Commentary: Round II

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How is it allowed at all: this *thing* called "late night radio": programs we have beaming in... ...'fore Sol provokes his *day* again. Sure, it's proffered in the *dark*, when most are sleeping, minds in park... marshalling small energies to match their mainstream's tyrannies... though lately shows pervade the day awash with weirdness, one could say.  Now?  It's "dark" at any hour; at any hour you're empowered.
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See, a plethora of MP3s, in no way censored, charm and tease.  They are accessed any time, and accessed by inquiring minds.  These stimulate that challenge made upon our mainstreams put and paid... See, we need more to fuel us than what Church and State pretend and plan.
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So, many listen late at night to spite their days consumed by fright—days cheapened in the glare of that... well... distracting one from "where it's at"! "War"s and "cars" and football "games" (and Bill O'Reilly's murky claims...), bells and whistles; smoke and mirrors—mainstreams, plainly, nowhere near us!
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See, there is more than is "prime time", but cop to that? You might do time.

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You shall pay an unjust price if you discover "prime's" *device*, or find its *content* somewhat lacking or something more than just distracting!
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So, how do Bell and Birnes survive espousing "what we know are lies?" How are Art and Bill allowed to say the things they say out loud? How can Marrs produce his books, or Stan report enigma's nooks? How does Strieber tell his tale, how do others pierce their veil?

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It's been claimed that these are "agents," the *mainstream* uses as their agent, keeping what the "man" wants "hidden"... what's been deemed proscribed—forbidden! When *these* report a truth, by golly, that truth can be dismissed as folly! Then, in fact, the truth can hide! The best of places, in plain sight!
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..."They" tease our bruised credulity, contuse our incredulity, then leaven fear with glad distraction to lead us to our sad inaction? Then the *night* comes yet again not like a thief, not quite a friend, you're reminded yet again—if you're awake to hear *strange* men— that there is more to light than "day..." to have your confidence ripped away! Then you're programmed for the sun, where "pretty lies," to sooth, are sung.
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The folks of late night are but "tools"? A question begged to prove a rule: that folks of "late night's" *party line* pretend for "cold percentage signs"? That they are slaves of corporate masters (?), covering all their bets (the bastards!)? Making like they're "all tuned in"... to truth and light and current trends... just to keep us off our guard—so faking they have truth's regard?
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...Just another entertainment facilitating our containment?  Denial's ever plausible wrapped in what is possible, conflated "truth-ness" then corrodes what truth is there... ...a mother's load!
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Well—not from light that I'm perceiving; there's little proof, Bell's double-dealing. These are folks who just like me would want more truth.  It sets us free.
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These have honor!  They have heart, and just like me would take their part... embracing wider paradigms with courage and an open mind!  They're not all "agents"—set against—most what's squeezed 'twixt finger's clenched.  All know those fingers that I mean, fists of fascists!  Cruel and mean...
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Were we to be relieved of such, and petty persons bit their dust?  We would be released from that which cheapens spirit: toxic rats.
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Such sights and wonders we'd perceive with senses newly grown one sees... We might live beyond ourselves to transmute into stars, one tells!  We would know non-speakables cast in wonders thought unreachable from "reduction's" squinty sight and from which we might outrun light!

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...Are we conscious of abuse... from grander schemes, unseen.... abstruse, which fan the bottom of our streams to hide in truthless murky memes? Larry King's not ridiculed reporting saucers, or thought a fool; see, he was "prime time" and *prescribed*... to keep the status quo alive!

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Now we would take our part in "this" and turn up what we find exists. There are heaps and gobs of data, evidence beyond errata; SCIENCE more than meets the needs of going where the data leads! Still, giggle-factors hold their sway, liars figure, figures play, so most are mushrooms, fed mere crap... which "daylight" passes off—for fact!
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So, now it's "night" with more folks listening, skies detailed and stars all glistening, going on in time and space belying *daylight's* false embrace! There are truths outside the box that we perceive; They've picked our locks. We have peered behind the curtain; we are not the least uncertain. Still, there is more to this than us! ...Seems now it's *night* that we must trust!
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alienview@roadrunner.com
http://www.alienview.net/

I defend that which should require no defense.
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A defense of poetic commentary, then, qualifies artistic need and justifies desirability, use, and appreciation of same.  Soon poetry becomes requisite as the oldest and most meaningful expression that one can know.  Poetry is the frame of language and expression... poetry provides an expression its provenance and support.  Poetry is what first makes a monkey's small mouth noises more meaningful and memorable.
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I called Art Bell twice in the mid nineties. The first call, on an April Fool's day of one of those years, seemed well-received.  I'd briefly detailed a thumbnail history regarding what "April Fool's Day" was really all about. I even made Art laugh at one point.  This encouraged me a few days later into calling on the wildcard line requesting I read this very short poem I'd written (like four lines) about something currently topical... I don't even remember what it was, specifically... perhaps something to do with not having to search for answers about UFOs, but facing ones there and extant.
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It seems poetry was a wildcard not allowed on the "Wildcard Line."  Art's attitude became unexpectedly irritated, dismissive, and cold... so cold...like I had wanted to read the gooshy parts from a serial killer's personal diary or something... seriously, his revulsion was plain.
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His attitude was, in fact, so coldly abrupt and even hostile that I mumbled a shocked and humiliated "Sorry to bother you, then..." and hung up.
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Later on, after the show was up in his, then free, archives, I heard my phone line click dead in his ear as Art explained to his listeners words to the effect that "we don't do *that* on this program," like poetry reading was a known mucoid slime on a hepatitis "C" sufferer's cheap chromed door knob... ouch.  One would think I'd stood up at a Pope's funeral to tell a lame dick joke and tried to wave my own around like it was a prop.
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Well... OK.  ...Hey! It's -his- show and if he won't have poetry reading that's where the "program" bear goes through the "content" buckwheat... and I wrote it off for the most part, but it bothered me, for all the obvious reasons humane, philosophical and cultural, still...
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Much more recently on Art's now long defunct weekend show, a very pleasant sounding young woman wanted to do the same thing: read a few lines of poetry (about the current harmonic convergence I think) and a previously affable Art assumed the same coldness with her that he had with me, and abruptly hung up on her. "We don't -do- that...," he said, after his rejection!
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Do what, really?
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What is his rather hyper offended reactionary behavior all about? What is its genesis? Just where resides its hostile provenance?
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I won't even attempt to answer those questions. They are beside the point made in this piece except to say that it is regrettable behavior walking hand in regrettable hand with the deplorable loss of art, music, and the humanities in our equally regrettable school systems.  That's bad, reader, badder than we know.
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Here's my concern. ...The utter and inexorable exclusion of poetry and the arts by an obtuse authoritarian authority.  Its suffocation.
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Sincerely, consider the unreserved and absolute lack of toleration for same.  Is it not the same inescapable and unchangeable finality reached regarding erosion of the 21st Century soul?  What's reach beyond grasp, then, for?  It is in Bell's "obviously prejudiced conclusiveness" that my greatest concern is revealed. He seemingly feels good to be in a position to put poetry down.
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Frankly... that behavior seems too reactionary. It's too intransigent. It's too uncompromising. I think an alternate "cognitive boat," accessible by more—and more readily employable by most—is being missed at at our eventual peril remembering the dire historical consequences of a prohibited reach beyond grasp.  Seems that soon even grasp is avoided.  Republicans in 2014, by way of example, seem to typify "avoided grasp."  The boat alluded to is appreciative understanding of what "beauty" is, and so behaving then in a way to encourage it around us.
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See, what's being missed in a reflex rejection of poetry: that first exposure to the creation of an expression about "new ideas," difficult expressions that very likely could be not be made initially—or easily said—any other way.  Metaphor and simile leavened with meter and rhyme affixing memory, assuring transfer, and inspiring understanding.  SONG!  Citation becomes unnecessary when one remembers the power of song.  Whole revolutions have been carried on the shoulders of song.
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All words are paint... consider the pictures they compose in your mind, but poetry is the canvas and the brush and the initial human intent. A poem can broach feelings, attitudes, and ideas a lot harder to express effectively than mere prose... or popular songs as alluded to above don't define decades and Shakespeare has no relevance to our modern age. Which of course they do and he does...
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The act of compelling mere words into disciplined meters and rhymes gives a creative expression an immediacy and authority it didn't have before, attaches meaning not as clear before, and provides for a meaningful repetition that wasn't encouraged before. One is encouraged to sing a song more than once if it's got a good tune...
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The act allows for something more endurable, more memorable, and more intimate—something more compelling... something more personal... something more communicative... Poetry is the mechanism for the articulation of difficult ideas, and so, back on topic, is handcrafted for a ufological use.
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There's more.
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There's something extra normal about poetry, one finds, many times. It makes reality focus in a way for both the writer and the reader elevating both in a lasting symbiosis, a symbiosis fortunately not required for success.  The mere aspiration to it is enough.
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The writer writes to be read of course... the writer is an artist and artists perform... but there is a deeper imperative occurring if the writer is not writing so much to be understood, but to himself under-STAND, to make sense, or provide a history. Then understanding gets done regardless, perhaps.
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Poets, and from the hoary start where articulation was new enough to be only poetry, were ever in touch with something useful that is creative and out of the box—instructive or informational just for that!  Poetry is not a frivolity or needless icing on the verbal cake to be shunned and discounted or arbitrarily dismissed; it is the cake in fact!
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Poetry—that well turned if not necessarily rhyming construction of sounds—is the thing to reach beyond the mere word! The requirements of metric discipline or the rhyme itself is the device that reaches further and grasps more... is more significantly penetrating than other literary forms.
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Poetry is that first exploration of unknown worlds. Prose comes in later after poetry to document and provide for an explicit record, but loses something, sometimes, to become even the more inaccurate record, missing spirit for the letter.
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Verily, boys and girls! Poetry is the literary form that all other literary forms humbly follow and from which other expressions issue forth. An essay won't ordinarily inspire a creative painting, or a painting a creative essay, but a poem might. It's no surprise where it does.
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Poetry has a value, a seriousness, and necessity that is forsaken—forsaken, I add, by notable persons like Art Bell who should know better—and forsaken in the easy dismissal, uninformed intolerance, or the unenlightened prejudice against it by persons who should be paying it more respect, of needs!  All our needs.
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Poetry takes one where one's never been or where one wants to go again...
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For example, where else but in a poem could you suggest the truly heretical and live to produce a subsequent writing? This is why snarky jesters kept their heads if critical in Court.  Where else but in a poem could you propose that the sparkling night has usurped the occluded day... usurped it in spirit, in letter, and in deed ... in fact...
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...as the current champion of the greater truth!
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Postscript on effect:
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When I write one of my odd odes I am absolutely taken to another place, self-abducted if you will... if I am... to a parallel world (or dimension) where cold words take on living attributes—personifications of truth, justice, empathy and enlightenment. They line themselves up into forms and meters, provide rhymes for themselves and then deliver themselves whole and at once to be banged onto my computer's keyboard as they swim in and out of focus in my short term memory.  It's like I'm not writing them, initially. It's like they suggest themselves to me. Like someone or something outside myself is speaking to me... just so. Not from me so much as through me.
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When I am writing—or thinking about writing, what I'm writing about, or thinking about thinking— the world around me, many times, is a transformed world where perception has a translucent transparency as if it was made of crystal or some strange new glass/metal alloy.  Frankly?  I get high.
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Winding up... at 2000 plus words this piece is not as concise as those demanding such prefer, I'm sure.  I suggest that these print it out, roll it up in a tight tube, and poke themselves in the eye with it, hard and repeatedly, for the intended effect. For the un-conflicted and more appreciating reader, then, "I'd take you where you've never been or where you'd like to go again."
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You, reader, understand that there is a place for words as paint... or there better be. Words are paint.
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Oh, they're weapons and tools of immortal magic, too, you see, as they can be in more than one place at the same time and they even travel in time... they can be two places at once when they're not anywhere at all! ...But first they are paint.
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They create pictures in the brain with brushes moving faster than light—at the speed of thought—to take the reader where the reader's never been, or where the reader wants to go... again, eh? Every word is a drop of color. Sentences are brushstrokes, paragraphs are portraits, and pages are the considered landscapes of our flotsam-ed and jetsam-ized Sea, Land, and Endless Mental Sky...
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Why might that be?
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There is a general feeling of complete satisfaction, accomplishment—a sense of contribution and connectedness—the senses feel truly quickened... sight, hearing, touch, taste, and smell seem enhanced and extraordinary!  Sixth and seventh senses seem a distinct possibility... They confuse themselves one with another in a kind of synesthesia. I hear a little color; I see a little sound; I taste a little touch.
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Sometimes pleasant and exotic odors waft inexplicably by perhaps enhancing a thought just had. Notes and chords not heard before are heard in a chance bit of music playing—the whole body feels like a finger tip non-salaciously but appreciative tracing an outline of beauty's face... time and space are eternal and I (we)... part of that eternity... ...and then the piece is done.
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It's a little like a death, I think, or a seasonal fall suggesting the (not so) inevitable spring that has come back, every time so far... Still, whenever I finish a piece I wonder if this is the last one.
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Will a tyrant's society provide me with one too many duplicitous distractions to achieve whatever it is that is required to be inspired... to even produce a new one... re-enter that hugely satisfying adjacent universe of beauty and creation as different from the everyday world as eight bit color is to 64... and a universe to be shared as the universe aspires to share, free of charge to anyone sharing an expanding connectedness!
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I likely disclose too much... compelled though I am to disclose in fact... still, welcome to my world... facilitated, ameliorated, and conjugated by poetic commentary and critical prose.  It abides as do I, with it and in its service. Read on.
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Restore John Ford...
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Good News Guy

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I guess I'm not a "good news guy" to most of you on square! Though that's my aspiration, so the irony's still there. And, yes, there's real irony given truth that I would share is the "perspicacious" poetry I compose because... I DARE!
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I'm rolled up tight and in your eye if you are unrepentant, if you are proud or arrogant—a "maladroit transcendent." If you would use just science, and but 2% of that, then find me charging up your nose ...or mashing it quite flat!
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...I've got flaws and errant foibles same as anyone who breathes. I aspire to the Boy-scout, though I'm way up off my knees! So, I can't stomach little men who hear without an *ear*... who are wrapped up in themselves—too much—or ruled by what they fear.
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These are dead before me like they never even were, if well beneath concerned contempt one feels for snakes or slurs! Yes, kicked at when they raise their heads, or round-housed with a board, some slights cannot be tolerated or egregious crime's ignored!
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Too, I'll cleave from that which plays me false, be it creed or God or man, and cleave to sensibilities flying higher... understand?  I'll eschew the "business man" condoning tricks and traps; he's known for what he really is... a prick in heaps and stacks!
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...Corporate greed is killing us, destroying all we know, and I can feel its fingers as they close around my throat! They are gain for *sake* of gain, all power and control, and they don't hear the bells, I think, which for them peal and toll! They are so last century, and embrace a sordid past! They are loath to lose those reins which keeps us at our bogus tasks!
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Labeled a "believer," I'm discarded to the fringe. I'm banished to the nether realms of the "psychotic" and "unhinged." Though, I have said before, my friend, that "I do NOT believe"! "Belief" is NOT my problem, folks! From "belief" I have reprieve!
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Belief is not the issue! It won't satisfy my need! I heed the "fact's" complicity I've extracted like a seed!  See, I don't believe duplicity and the issue of that breed... Like...I don't believe in Gods men made to cater to their needs! ...And needs of a *minority* I hastily would add, who practice cloaked perversities contented, safe, and glad!
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See, I don't believe in preachers who would speak in tongues of guile while they robbed the fearful hapless of their money, hope, and style! I won't believe a clergy who would prey upon our kids. Perversion's been the stock and trade of... monied fakes and squids!
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I don't believe in Presidents appointed by a court... or because his sibling Governor can provide corrupt support... I don't believe in agencies without an oversight which operate without regard to "decency" and "right."
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I don't believe "security" is found in errant "secrecy"... and I don't believe a wrong can make a right—that's pure indecency!  See, I don't believe "best practice" is in any way conserved if it comes as a result as what we know does not well serve!
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...I can't believe the journalist as "talking pretty head," a mere mouth piece for complacencies the mainstream spoons instead, and I can't believe Republicans who shan't pay down a debt they've encouraged by the rules they've made to suit the corporate set!
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I can't believe the smaller men who condone a narrow view; so hobbled by false paradigms they've lost their sense for truth. These generate consensus to facilitate their ends, to whatever weak agenda they've contrived and... just pretend.
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For these putrescent "pleasures" they have done egregious "things."  The wage we're paid is terror and the loathing that must bring!  We are not well served, we know, the fox in charge of hens, pretending—then—that such is so propounds a foul pretense
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Because some are befuddled by the way they think things are, because some are insentient and so cannot see their star, because they have but disrespect for any but their own... ...well, one lost himself a "Paradise" he once could call his "home"...
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Too, this is why I can't conceive a person so malformed... he must toady up to rich men with his honor rent and torn; he must beg for fickle favor without sickness in his gut, and then parrot propaganda that just keeps him in his "rut..."
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.,¸¸,.»§«,¸¸,.·´¯`·.,¸¸,.»§«*¥*»§«,¸¸,.·´¯`·.,¸¸,.»§«·.,¸¸,.

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Rather... ...we were built to soar and cleave... even strike the face of God... of needs, if he would practice some offence, or used us in some unjust sense!

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We are what we make ourselves! We stand or fall alone... ...ourselves! Freedom and our self-respect is all we really crave, I've read!

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Now some would say "...that's not good news"! We tempt God's hand!” These cry, bemused! Still, I maintain we're "self-aware" and that's the message better shared!

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We would make the things we need from models we ourselves decreed! *Gods* have kept our nose to stones while "priest/kings" know we're NOT alone, and not of passion for our gain but for themselves, and at our pain!

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I sense, somehow, a better way than what's contrived: their price we pay. Sad, we are better served in doubt... than what our status quo's would spout.

See, we are ageless stardust laid... across the cosmos put and paid, deserving more respect that's real than what is tendered now, I feel. 

We must try, so then decide, what kind of world we'd abide.  Dog eat dog and Manor Lords, their sons who rape and make cruel sport... or take some pains to pay fair taxes, choose a life style more relaxing: living wages, single payer, safety nets... an ozone layer!

alienview@roadrunner.com
http://www.alienview.net/

It was once broadcasted (SDI #255, 8/30/03) that I lost credibility in the very educational if ironic Mortellaro affair of years past.  Educational because what doesn't kill you makes you stronger and ironic because the very name Mortellaro loosely means "death's overseer."  How is that not the Devil?
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Still, lost credibility?  A continuing consideration shows that I can must reject that observation handily, with all humility, and in total finality... if with all respect for the broadcaster, Dave Furlotte.  Credibility with others does not provide me the motivation suggested as alluded in the prosery above.  It's preferred of course, still, it remains unnecessary.
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Besides, to my mind, in my estimation, and through my filters I should have only gained credibility with the honoring interested as a result of my experience.  My behavior and honest sincerity never wavered.
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Mortellaro—also sucking in Budd Hopkins and David Jacobs, men passing for top tenure in Abduction research—was the presumed psychopath and certainly exposed charlatan. I can't allow it to be thought that I agree with Dave Furlotte's off-putting assessment as broadcast lo these many years ago.  Silent, I seem to agree.  I do not.
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Forgetting the corresponding lack of necessity and so questionable value of a predicted, if tedious, self-defense, here's why at five disparate levels:
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In the first place I showed some courage of conviction to swim against the angry tide in defense of a perceived truth and even (arguably) bit the hand that had been feeding me (so to speak) at SDI.  Strange Days Indeed, helmed by Errol Bruce-Knapp had, since 1996, considered me a fellow in the ethical pursuit of that perceived truth as regards UFO's.  I was on Errol's team, I'm on Errols team still...We both stated regret of those proceedings at the time. ...Glad that's behind me.  Errol, too.
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Still, I demonstrated that the truth (such as it is, was, and shall be) has more value for me than the comfort and exposure of belonging to convenient venues even increasing in relevance and a substantive popularity, as SDI certainly was. I would be compelled to do the "right thing" (as perceived), first. Recent significant others could bear this out, I'm afraid. All respect is there, too.
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In the second, I explored that *truth* pursued under the microscope of a consistent philosophy of some stability. As I've written, that philosophy assigns more value to tested faith than the untested variety even as Aristotle is benched, of needs, for the more multifaceted player, Plato! Plato understood that Chaos is the mother of any Cartesian reductionist's "order" and it is inappropriate to forsake one for the other... immoral even. Neither Yin nor Yang, reader, it's the edge between them defines us, all and one.
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I made a written record regarding the substance of those evaluations (and experiences) to substantiate that *truth* discovered about Jim Mortellaro. At the end of the evaluation I let the chips fall where they fell. They fell decidedly foul for me. It was, in my opinion, a foulness of wasted time and other regrets.  Still, that's the way it rolled. Heavy sigh, eh?
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Still, I stayed true to a philosophy expressed consistently since 1996. I'd wager that few—who know me at all—are remotely surprised at the actions I took in defense of a perceived truth. Then and now, reader, at my peril with regard to significant others, too.  Conscience does not abide infidelity.
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On the third, I have demonstrated that I can admit error—even when not under duress to do so— as the ongoing "evaluation" indicates and so demands it. Consequently, an aforementioned consistency was maintained.
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I've always counseled that the admission of an error is, still, a step up (philosophically), so I could do no less given my clear error as it regarded that wholly scabrous and disingenuous scourge Jim Mortellaro. I don't perceive it as a "stretch" that this fact, alone, is worth the price of my re-admission to a modicum of trust if it is lacking. I'm not afraid to make a mistake. I'll make more. I'll own up to those, too. ...An effort will be made, of course, to keep these to a minimum.
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Of the fourth, given the same real-time circumstances? I would do all the same things I did—say the things I said, write the things I wrote—over again because it was in accordance with what my non-conflicted beliefs were, at the time. I can make no apology for sincerity, earnestness, and the authenticity of my actions—which remained ethical and above board—only the eventually discovered lack in efficacy of them. Hindsight is 20/10, nes't ce pas?
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Regarding a final fifth I would aspire to do the same thing again in the future if similar convictions manifested themselves in my spirit... because I aspire to bravery, conscience, integrity, intelligence, and free thought or expression of same! No reader worth a flying joust at rolling doughnut could expect me, or themselves, to do any less. Capable of shame, I am in no way ashamed of myself. The reader, on reflection, may find little reason, themselves, to be ashamed of me, or to speculate adversely on my credibility.  I've taken pains to be true.
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I think the accuracy of this tedious self-evaluation on the state of my ufological "credibility" can be measured in the guileless attitudes and open-armed behavior of both Mr. Velez and Mr. Knapp upon my return to SDI. These two gentlemen welcomed me back with such warmly uncomplicated and immediate friendliness that even I—who might have expected collegiate behavior from them given my mea culpa and genuine innocence in the turbulent affair—remain astonished by it! Not a hint of I told you so, folks. Richly deserved... ...Not a peep.
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If these two of the most inconvenienced (per se) of my *critics* (per se) had little problem with my (aggregate) credibility then perhaps the interested reader should re-evaluate any problem they might have with same. Just writing the report, folks—compelled to such and so.
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With all respect to Mr. Furlotte, then, who honestly calls them as he sees them and who I'm certain aspires to the same qualities of bravery, conscience, integrity, intelligence, and free thought as do I... in this instance? Well—he's got another "take" coming. [g].
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Closing, here is the unheralded reason for account settling in this manner about an occasion where I gladly admit my arrears. I would sing the praises for tirelessly credible UFO researchers and other contributors of significance: Feschino, Friedman, Hastings, Dolan... and Dave Furlotte among significant others, but of that ilk. I would not provide for that service to them if I was unwilling to first qualify myself as stronger and more credible exactly because I have endured the attentions of psychopaths and charlatans, eh? These didn't "kill" me, and I am stronger.

Read on.

Dissonant Cognitions

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This scourge we endure is called "Cognitive Dissonance."  It squanders our spirit and keeps us in chains. Our souls are made worthless and we're then indifferent to conscience increasingly sullied and strained.
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Now CD's a lie, but a way one will cope. ...Abused tools to avoid a true test of ones "faith." Yeah, we lie to ourselves about something egregious (?)—"admissions," forthcoming, would lose "too much face"!
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True, most would agree that their motives aren't "bad." The *evil* they do is, then, seldom opposed. Remaining ensconced is that poisonous dissonance; all reason is trashed with the truth so disposed.
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So, take a deep breath and reject those perceptions. There's more going on than is seen on the "news."  Injustice abounding ... you've had the same insight. So feel the outrage and hear the same tune!
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Our schools? They're contrived, second rate—mediocre! Too, this is the plan at the core of design.  Teachers betrayed are prefered mediocre promoting cognition that's stunted and blind!
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Their mission's production of docile "employees"! That task is pursued with a furious cant. They're happy as hell with the things as they'd have them and won't give an inch, I confirm no small wrath!
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Yeah, all must contrive that their motives are "pure." The wrong that they do, then—never erased. Remaining in place is the horror been done; the truth is besmirched and all honor effaced!
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It's all just a game that some play for themselves. This game, is at best, a destroyer of shame. It's "wrongs" never righted, this fuels the convictions of those who would hate us—like we're not to blame!
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The shame? It's unbearable! CD is a salve!  It changes that shame to a... fatuous pride! The pride of our action's a shield, confusing, and a horse we'd quite readily beat 'till it's died.
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See, hidden from us is the shame we should feel. Our consciences gone or forsaken—betrayed!  "Accepted behavior" must gyre in a spiral we know we should hold with tremendous distaste!
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It's *evil*; it's *sinful*; its *error* is plain. It keeps us confined, and opposed with ourselves. This makes us repellant to them now observing who witness our slide to a self-fulfilled hell!
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alienview@roadrunner.com
www.AlienView.net

That is what we do. That is what we make. That is what we are. 
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We are of what we make ourselves: convenience, forgotten promises, and unrealized dreams... if we wish it so.  The antithesis remains as a ready alternative.  See, anyone really wanting something has will.  Left or right's a matter of will.  Up or down.  In or out.  All or none.  Good or bad.  Will.  Too, it's the individual makes such will, so.  Each individual has to buy in, individually.  Put a few individuals together and the mountain comes to Mohammed, eh?
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Consider. It's all built on conscious choice, still. We decide to accept the unacceptable, dehumanize the invented competition, and refuse to explore a potential for real synergy with them—label it *socialism* and demonize it as *communism*... deride it as *liberalism* or revile it as *humanism*.  Could we be further from the mark reviling the aforementioned in many cases correct and sensible behavior?  Communism might be legitimately hated, still, one must remember that that's a reaction to the unfettered and irresponsible devined right of kings and then later the pathology of unrestricted or unregulated capitalism... ...can you say "The Koch Brothers? 
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Frankly, it's quite plain we manufacture our staid excuses for same out of a conveniently contrived cloth, sincerely. This is a cloth to suit individual prosecutions of our own sociopathy. See, we change our minds to suit convenience and with a tilt of our heads and a turn of a phrase, do the most egregiously mindful things in full knowledge that these things remain wrong on any level one cares to consider.  Is this ease with which psychopathy presents itself in any way a correct behavior or best practice?  Small reflection dictates a sensible "no." 
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Cognitive Dissonance... a cognitive process (recognized by one Dr. Leon Festinger) designed to, in large part, parasitically and unethically profit at the dire expense of another and then continue to live contentedly and comfortably—even happily—with the knowledge of same.   That's not a definition, by the way; that's a result.  The definition is the will to intellectually force what "can't in fact fit" to "fit in fact".....Horrors beyond imagining, and it's not aliens eating our heads! It is us ourselves.
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Columbus, by report, performed a cognitive dissonance bringing slavery to the western hemisphere, consider, according to James W. Loewen in Lies My Teacher Told Me.  A very dirty-dealing Christopher—a lying, cheating, thieving, and serial-murdering-for-profit brand of "Chris" from the primary references—initially found his "Indians" delightfully spiritual beings as "uncomplicated and intelligently innocent as gifted children"—to paraphrase from his own hand. 
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Only later would he classify them as "guileful vermin" when he realized—with his second thought—that they could be terrorized into collecting gold for him in a color coded system that, oh by the way, lost the reluctant collector a nose or an ear ...or a child... if he didn't cough up the dictated tithe, on time... ...Horrors beyond imagining as I said...
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Columbus had to "change his mind" to suit subsequent events fertilizing his gleeful artifice for unbridled sociopathy.  Simply refusing to see himself as the *monster* he was, he changed his attitude to fit the facts, and then demonized what he knew to be innocent people in a manner facilitating his continued sleep at night... presuming he could sleep.  I'm betting he could...
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The Church, of course, in its own monstrously refined brand of Cognitive Dissonance, raised the level of CD to an art form!  Religion (gods created to do the bidding of men creating them) busily smoothes the progress of every bit of the preceding... what! Hey... a Pope's gotta eat!
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We, you and I, practice a kind of cognitive dissonance when we ignore what's obviously before our own bruised noses—noses ironically bleeding because we won't chance our attention further a-field! Why, we ignore—in the aggregate—UFOs (for example) and a full accounting of facts regarding them, and they are known by the non-elected leadership!
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This begs the emblematic question. Who profits in this legislated, continuing and traditional ignorance regarding UFOs, et sig al?
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Why is this truth so elusive and unknown? Why is it so furiously guarded, ignored, or discounted?  Thing is (I'm betting) this truth profits me and you, reader, if at the expense of "him" who'd profiteered previously, eh?
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We are kept from the truth—and we are—... oh, we are, reader... not because we couldn't handle it, good friend, but because it is to the non-elected leadership's hull breaching detriment to let the truth go! Could it actually be that the truth would set us free? I'd further bet the farm on it!
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With regard to the UFOs, you and I are Columbus' Indians, good reader, and we mindlessly fill our little hawk's bill of gold for the "man" just like those callously abused Indians of the early 1500s, whether we know it or not; we've just been conditioned to go along with it, encouraged by a corrupt mainstream to even think it *good*, by right, right and honorable! That may not be... is not in my experience.
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Our evil is made over into something more palatable by our subconscious so as to continue horrific behaviors conveniently judged too egregious—and too costly or embarrassing—to change.  30,000 children starve to death on this planet every day, by way of example.  We tolerate that.
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Cognitive Dissonance: the tool of the sociopath to avoid the price of his sociopathy, but a "bill" that, by definition, must come due for someone sometime, and so, tragically, limit the aggregate advancement of everyone.  Let's pay that bill.  Let's take that responsibility.
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The more we hold to these spurious justifications for traditional sociopathy with Cognitive Dissonance the more we damage our progression into the larger future... the longer we keep ourselves from the stars and the beings who must live between them.  Isn't it, just, that plain?
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Read on.
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Restore John Ford

...Shift Happening...

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I just want a real deal that I might winnow out... some protection from the psychopaths that history's about, but "soar and cleave"—completely—for to grasp what one might reach... in a scramble for enlightenment desired and beseeched!
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Yes, there's more to every day—than that which comes our weary way—from mainstreams hijacked and obscene to fluffing mad... psychotic memes! We are what we think we are, composed of star-smoke from afar, and of a mind so clear and pure our proud expression... shall endure!
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Endured just now? Complacency, for which we pay a price. That toll we pay is cheating us—a crooked set of loaded dice... So, why the obfuscations—all the fibs and clever stalls? What profits *some* that they should cheat "good rules" of "common law"?
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Though, that's no hoax and "blowing smoke"... smack-DAB-right up your kilt—no joke! There is more than meets the eye from psychopathic creeps we spy.  Sociopaths won't care a wit, not a shred of one small bit that we endure a hell on Earth... if they enjoy their pimped-out perch!
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Some would profit for our pain... That's not beyond ones grasp. Ones conscience is well tested with ones "shoes exchanged," at last. There are crimes that we don't see when we remain upon our knees, that some would profit for our pain then dance a joy so unconstrained!
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What's this to do with UFO's: to hit them on their freaking nose! There is truth that *these* portend which moves beyond what some pretend, and that is why we're ridiculed! The UFOs would change the rules! What was *great* becomes quite *small* so loses purloined wherewithal!
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Everything's turned upside down, investments so much crap, and that itself's a good thing but I know that's hard to grasp. *Investment*, as it's parlayed (?), is a blight upon the planet; the "stocks and bonds" are life blood of some real curses, damn it!
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We're forced upon our callused knees, compelled to futures we can't breath! We're connived by psychopaths who did their worst and fouled our past! Air and water you can't buy are tears that we must finally cry when all those bills which must come due... Who pays for this—but me and you!

Everything's turned upside down, religion is exposed. One artist called it "[lies] in fog" like she was one who knows... if one but reads a *history* of what has gone before (?), religion is the fairytale that we should best deplore.
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It's a scam that we endure! It's kept us down and that's for sure. It's belittled womankind and kept her tied and hard-confined. It is hunger, hate and rage in sermon, creed and gospel page.  It twists the minds of salt-earth folk... to keep them dumb: it's all a hoax!
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Everything's turned upside down, we're from our crib expulsed! We'd well abused our billet, and so from it we're repulsed. The larger *world* beckons though, and though we're now afraid (?), potential's exponential, and all novelty's put paid.
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We'll have vision now not known, we'll reap the efficacious sown, and we will know a greater thing than "nineteenth-century thinking" brings! We are strong and brave and smart. We have passion, grace, and heart! We'll survive the "new design"—it's just another paradigm!

alienview@roadrunner.com
www.AlienView.net

We'll survive the next "paradigm shift" because it's what we do. We've always done it, and will continue to do it into the unforeseeable future. We always have. Our track record's been perfect. We're here NOW, aren't we?
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*Energy* is not destroyed! It always lives on in another form. We are beings of pure energy. We really are.  We will abide!
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Yes, I realize that a "paradigm shift" can be "tumultuous"! Big gulp, eh? Damn right! Unlike many —and all of his detractors apparently— I've actually read my Velikovsky. It remains that "shift" happens, still! Does it have to be a bad thing?  Shortly, no!
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It remains, we still have a choice regarding the misery that we'd bring upon ourselves; we always have, actually. Too, though, it's state of mind that will smooth that bump—some of us will just wake up that way and slip through the maelstrom like soap from a wet fist... frictionless, effortless grace ... unclenched and efficacious satisfaction... that'd be this writer's aspiration... I actually get a "finger" on it sometimes... I think, here amongst words like these... ...I digress.
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We survived stone to metal! We continued passionately from copper to bronze! We endured the still bloodier move from bronze to iron... steel! We carried on handily as we transitioned through the agrarian age to the industrial age. We'd bear up under the ages of steam, atomics, and information! We flourish (arguably), presently, in an age of near instantaneous communication... We survive!
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We survive, individually, along with all our agencies, institutions, and principalities, both open and closed. The individual, that single mote of consciousness empowering all the rest—and only disempowered by the aforementioned agencies, institutions, and principalities—survives! It's obvious! Written for you, you're reading it, aren't you? Perhaps only you. To a degree that makes sense individually, each of us is the center of our known universe.  I think, so I am.  Don't let your hubris run away with you—maintain a humility and a new understanding that the existential proves Earth is heaven.
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A key is humility.  With humility hubris and the resulting decadence is impossible... as is bigotry and injustice.
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For all our foibles, stupidities, and false starts, we've lived to tell a tale, if NOT the tale! Indeed, only our sad penchant for fundamentalist and backstepping religious practices keeps us from being virtually unstoppable as a species... and given more genetic *understanding* (?) perhaps even immortal! Wow! That's going to require some room! But for organized religion we'd already populate the asteroid belt and be using individual asteroids for skipping stones to the stars.  Our hubris is only ever punished, and on reflection why should hubris ever be rewarded?
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The reader is reminded of the measured smaller amounts of time encompassed by each *age*—the increasing frequency made evident by shorter and shorter times spent in subsequent "ages"... eh? The stone age lasted much longer than the Bronze age... lasting longer than the iron age... steel... steam, information, digital, shorter and shorter epochs, ever shorter periods in the accelerating existential ... an evolving fractal reflection of itself!  Are we in an effort to see that *new* age looming beyond the age of information or communication enjoyed presently? What will it be?  That said, -I- don't have an altogether *bad* feeling about it even as it looms.
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A mere twenty year ago, how would we have predicted the effects of computers on our everyday lives? How can we suppose that we will react to an unavoidable future except that we will eventually "get over it", make it commonplace, and then move on... as we—I point out once again—always have!
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...And ALL of the preceding brought about by the actions of mere individuals, not superstars—mere individuals wholly unforecast... novelty flashing into existence and providing affect to the progression of society in unpredictable ways.  James Burke: Connections illustrates all this brilliantly!

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Sure—there's Edison (...though in comparison to Tesla, Edison was a raging psychopath with a mundane intelligence providing the shallowest gifts)... but it is only the individuals who buy in to an "Edison"—make him their own conscious choice, throw him their *steam* (...forgetting any ONE of us doesn't matter and is as expendable as another, and that even goes for Edison—Tesla WAS "waiting in the wings" with an infinitely better electrical idea)... the individual remains KEY.
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Our conflicted *leadership* would have us forget that. They'd proffer excuses that individualism is "selfish-ism." Though, consider how "selflessness" and "individualism" can be reconciled for synergistic effect. See, in a society where respect for individualism is assured one can afford to be selfless. If you "have," you "give"... or can.
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Conjectured ETs might know this to be true! Perhaps it's why they don't contact Governments, Religions or Agencies.  ...No "take me to your leader," crap.  They would appear to operate on an *individual* level, always. Had the reader noticed that? And lately? They are a lot more humane about their activities then we are about ours.
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Read on!
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Restore John Ford!

X Rated World

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Again, I've been labeled a "ponderous paranoid"... for walking the path that I've trod all along. A label dismissive, and artless, and facile—one clueless and mocking... and patently wrong!

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See, where there is "threat" there is no paranoia. The presence of threat's to preclude, always same. So where is that charge even close to a bull's-eye? Who's it at fault, really? Who's it to blame.

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Dismissed... as an artist while critically thinking, while using my hands and my heart or my rhyme... I'm scolded and chastened by—imprecise—persons who read what they want and then speak HALF a mind!

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I'm clearly coerced to my poetic protest—expressing myself as I have all along—I remain unaffected by smears on a character best practiced, mature, and I think, life long!

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I'm UNASHAMED that I'm labeled *psychotic*... for seeking new questions and freeing my head. Considered; the source of my braying complainant... discover this "source" is conflicted instead!

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I'd continue pursuit of my "alien viewing"... secure in assurance I'm on the right road, immune to the churlish and charm-less occurrence of that which is cluelessly pushed up my nose!

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See, I'm on my guard for the "critically thoughtless," those well imbued with beguiling fog. Errant promoters of hidden agendas with actions employing a "wink" and a "nod"!

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I'm not impressed by the words of this *critic*... who acts without thinking to "try out" complaints, and I'm not indifferent to persons intrusive, reflexive, complacent, or ethically stained!

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Too, I am not sorry that some are offended by some of the action at AlienViews! I'd think it expected that feathers get ruffled when sifting this *murk* for a taste of REAL news!

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I'm nonplussed... uninspired, by those mewling and whining... These spin a grand show but don't front, and then WALK... puling expressions on how they've been "wounded," "attacked" and "berated," or suffered *rough* talk.

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Too, yes, I'm not impassive to those without courage... or those whose agendas conceal their views. This is discouraged for folks (who've signed up!) ...who are here to develop their—own—alien view!

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I'm enraged, not controlled, by the actions of persons who erode what we do just to further their ends! They're not partners or allies—assistants, supporters; they're not helpers, co-workers... even fair-weather friends!

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They're a hindrance, a hurdle, a snag—an impediment, they're just a sharp stick (or a bug) in your eye! Not near a solution, they're part of the problem! ...And worst of all, this: they don't care if you die!

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If you can't hack the heat, get the hell from the kitchen! There are box-cars of fish that need salting and frying! The multiverse bubbles a terrible turbulence in a countdown that's ticking with "bombs" close to flying!

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Our rights are eroding like sugar in rain, our futures descend into war. Still, you take the time to *pretend* that you're helping? You're a fool; you're a psycho; you're a tiresome bore.

alienview@roadrunner.com

www.AlienView.net

He knows who he is.  Entirely unrepentant, I'd continue as I am. Thanks.

Not entirely heartless—all that's required—I'm appropriately sensitive to arbitrarily causing an "undeserving someone" any undue angst or upset... but if you're going get offended when I don't go blithely along with you and your conjectured lack-wit worldview... ...if you get disturbed and combative—even hostile—at my earnest expression, please find me chiseled from the coldest stone as I eat your face.

Sincerely. Me?  I'd accept a justified face eating. One should.  I've had done some chow-down on my face, yea and verily, and there was forgiveness extended on my mea culpa.  That's as it should be, too.

True, not completely closed-minded I prefer the straight talk that cuts to the chase if not to the quick. My mother, now passed, was fond of saying that that was only going to get worse the older I got.  I'm on my guard.  Be on yours.

Too, as I gainfully struggle to accept many of you as you are, I suppose you're going to have to struggle to accept me as I am (or not, an alien view makes it your call after all).  Be that as it may, those who are wounded by straight, though considered—presuming civil—expression should wear a cup on their sensibilities; indeed, why should any of us be shielded from illuminating discourse, of any type, that one could be getting right here... right now.

We're getting close to the bone on this boys and girls...

As a community, for instance, we once under-reported a story on "human mutilation" deserving attention because we didn't want to offend tender *sensibilities*, eh? I think that's wrong. I think that's shining you on. I think that's a disservice to you. I think that's selling you a bill of insentient and pride-less goods! I think that's contributing to your—and so our—aggregate ignorance. To quote William Shatner—lately becoming a god in my personal pantheon to efficacious individualism: "I can't get behind that!" Hell, friend—I won't get behind that!

We're not children! We're not enfeebled! We're don't have to behave like victims, even as we are! We are survivors in the best sense of that word! Or, we can be. We're HERE, aren't we? ...Forget that means "they’re" here too!

We are grown up women or men (and all shades and flavors in between) in a world that is decidedly "X" rated for all the phony baloney little ways we "dog and pony" it up... attempting to create the degrading illusion that it is rated "G," or gracious!  "R."  Get real!

See the implication? Don't expect me to pay the freight for faux-Christian assumptions I am compelled to view as regressive hypocrisy or even cowardice encouraging criminality!

I won't presume mine upon you. You'll accept them, or you won't, remembering shoes not worn are ever on "other feet." Consider that.

There are few of us in this community who I "know" to be at least remotely on the level, folks, and few of those I've had to take in faith on the word of the adjacent person I'd "trust"... ...I test my faith, btw, because it has been demonstrated to me that untested faith is valueless.  Google Hopkins and Mortellaro by way of example.  More! It's an insult where it is not an imposition!

Untested faith is valueless to me, at any rate, and it's been valueless to my fellows except to convince them that ignorance is bliss! You know what crap I think that is, if you've read me at all.

But some check out! Some deliver their stated goods! Some're more than pretty words or smoke and oddly colored mirrors! Some're sincere and they have the evidentiary cache to buttress mere claims.

Moreover, they don't cut and run posting assailing recriminations and wounded protestations about how BAD I've made them feel, how angry I am like that was some kind of pertinent issue, and they want to reason all the way through the real issue, whatever it is. They are more than easily wounded sensibilities. They want to do: "best practice."

Hey! I'll respect you. I'll give you your sounding board! I'll help and provide information if I can! But I won't coddle you! I won't treat you like an infant! I won't presume your lack of intelligence... or talk down to you. I'll talk up, instead.

I won't allow you to shine me on, either. That's a game best played elsewhere by suspect *others*! Go there if you'll feel better and can ignore your then re-continued manipulation.

I'd prefer to soar and cleave! I'd think you would too. But that's what you get when the scales start to fall from your eyes and you see the world as it really is. Bigger than you thought! Grander than you imagine! Scarier than you would have believed... X rated!

25000 plus children starve to death, exclusively, on this planet every day, boys and girls, and that's the good news! Dare to ask me why!

Still, persons would willingly whack a conjectured "grey" with a military imperative as a psychic explosion issues from the ruined head of the being destroyed! Is it murder? Is it self-defense? Is it even real? ...an "X" rated world, like I said...

See, it is an "X" world. It's an "X" multi-verse! Too, "X", as dangerous a ride as it can be, is much preferable to "G" because "X" is real and "G" is just a figment of a facile imagination. "G" is an unbrave mechanism that can't work for everybody just as it can't work for ANY-body, all the freaking time. You KNOW that! Statesmen are murdered, elections are hijacked, religious bigotry and a stealthily singular fascism is becoming the default law of the land—as UFOs and the people effected by them are STUDIOUSLY ignored.

Arrogant? Maybe. Overconfident? Perhaps. Angry? Conceivably. It remains, I want to be able to qualify and quantify my experience; I want to define it; I want to be able to defend it; I want to be able to explore it; I want to dissect it, understand it, and validate it. Too, maybe a little arrogant overconfidence is in order just to bust the aggregate sluggish crap loose. Better questions are found with less.

If you don't want to do that (be brave, inquisitive, open and confident), if you want to preach, self-promote, or otherwise wallow in fatuous distraction and hurt poutiness... you may want to more carefully consider being in my company. Sincerely. I'd have truth though heaven fell... ...and feel relief! See, if it fell? It would then crash to something solid that was real and an authentic foundation could be built for a "heaven" that was genuine, I feel.  ...One perhaps not so quick to fall, eh? ...One with more shelf life.

Consider that the ufological disclosure forthcoming, of needs, eventually, must be as destructively tumultuous as the "real" leadership deems it, necessary, to be! Please read the preceding again. They relinquish their power constructively in peace... or have it torn from their dead and bloody fingers.

It can, and does happen—or not—just as I say. Germanic principalities of multiple centuries ago never had to endure the bloody revolutions of Italy, Great Britain, and France... because they relinquished power in a constructive manner before that power was taken from them, eh? Their cooperation was so complete, ultimately, that they were able to put the whole rest of the world on notice... twice in two World Wars! There's a cornucopia of lessons in there, boys and girls.

Read on.

From Giordano's Shoulder

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We are a strong collection of the stuff that shatters stars with the strength of informations we'd employ sans "ban" or "bar," so we are then offended at the lies with which we're fed, which stunt imagination or confound one in ones head! We make it known to those who rule—to those who ply malfeasant tools—that we're aware, now, of those lies they've used to keep us down—in line!

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We're unfettered and alive so sense our culture's specious jive; we look beyond the limits set by those who keep us leashed like pets!

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We, it's true, have power, friend, but wasted—now—it's being spent... precluding righteous blessings sent... so's to pay a rich man's rent!  We should be offended, plain, by "religionists" who prey—insane—those abusive, so called, leaders (who connive and scheme)—real cheaters—and make their bland insouciance (their indifference to our needs) the issue it deserves to be!  Yes, shake their sacred trees!

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We are power we don't use! We don't have to be abused! We can work to further ends and live a life without pretense!

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We are motes of consciousness who spark a different fire... with a spirit individual but incensed with shared desire, so our cooperation's just the thing it's meant to be! It's righteous and it's honest and a thing that should be free!  Too, we must soar like Bruno—take command of our own minds—and live our lives, be satisfied, and in no way confined!

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We can "soar and cleave"—like him... that path I'd take with honored friends, that road to space before us now is what's beyond their lying doubt!

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We are the very fuel we'd use to settle our accounts, to take back our autonomy purloined by "dukes" and "counts," so use the current synergy now used for specious ends—the ends of our tormentors and all that they portend—and live a life of bravery... casting off those ties that bind... ...or live beneath new tyrannies insulting human-kind.

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We can use alerted brains to keep the psychopaths contained; we can travel roads we see to force us from insentient knees!

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We are special star-smoke of the kind that's self-aware; we are "question askers" for the answers that are there, so we are not placated by the lies of culture's past—these lies are so convenient for the *few*, we find at last. We propose a better deal—unhindered by elitists—to live a life unyielding in futures that complete us.

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We are "will" as strong, you see, as that which keeps us on our knees, and we have choices we’re not told by jealous thieves* and facile scolds*!

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We have a new "awareness," of a type not seen before**, to break the bonds that hold us fast to what we should deplore, so we're refreshed by truth then found by turning errant "rocks"—bytes of information where we take a fresher stock—and finding truth in numbers (that before could not appear***) we make our way to far flung shores a course which we must steer.

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We are what we'd wish we were, new courage deep within us stirs, and we shall win this game they'd play, no longer trusting, dumb—afraid!

alienview@roadrunner.com

www.AlienView.net

*Kings and Priests, respectively.
**The Internet
***Because of the Internet

The portrait at left? A bust of Giordano Bruno.

Just before they burned him at the stake for not playing the prescribed Church "ball," he had occasion to look through one of the first telescopes. This one act, providing much fuel for his alleged heresy, provoked him to say in astonishment and realization, "I cleave the heavens and soar to the infinite... ...what others see before them I leave far behind me." He looked into the sky, perceived the plurality of intellect there, and said so!

The Priests burned him, then, with a metal brace jammed between his chin and breastbone so as to preclude any other memorable utterances. Kings? Kings let them do it.