Thinking And Waiting...

Yeah—hey! ...And thanks for sailing in! I'm feeling kind of low right now, so it's good to see a friend. Dismissed a "Cyber-Wacko" by some persons I'd admired, I'm stunned with disappointments I suspect are not required.

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…Citations by the carload? …Summarily ignored. Papers I have written are dismissed, subsumed—deplored? Not making any headway, I sense I'm spinning wheels; traction just ain't happening! Still, I sense a changing deal...

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...No one in particular, "I can think and I can wait." I keep my own good council, and I dourly face my fate. See, I've found I trust my conscience to define where I should steer, and I firmly heed my instincts on the subjects we all fear.
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I've a clearly sighted star, you see, on which to set my course; I navigate reality upon that stalwart horse.  I have a sensibility refined by sturm and drang as encountered in the wars we've lost to persons better hanged.  So I would test my saber's edge on that which is offensive, deplorable, inordinate... I'm not remotely apprehensive. 

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So, I'm not—much—distracted by the flapping of some tongue, or the tapping of some "key" by that dismissive "other," ...stung. They're all just proclamation of the sort who must resort to the insult always issued by that sport sans all retort!  These are persons selling souls for anything Cartesian.  Reductionism's rampant in this age, and names are legion.  Deniers and dispellers of the evidence that's there, these dismiss the "highly strange" as facile and don't care.

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These say there's "no conspiracy" of a type I have described. That *life* is no illusion.  Reality? Bona fide! These become the haze we see—lies hidden in the fog... Truth? Our Institutions: porcine, filled with wolves and rats and hogs!

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So say, oh, Noam Chomsky, Mike Malloy, and Howard Bloom—Ridgeway, Marrs, Parenti, and with Webb (?) we're out of room.  They grokked the "primary reference"!  It's the type which tells the truth.  "Revisionistic" efforts are trés canted—of no use.
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Some sneer at these citations and deplore what they express, but "rebuttal's" not forthcoming and you sense no small distress. See, these but serve to grind an ax as biased as can be.  These are sans veracity.  These are bogus; can't you see?

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Now, am I incoherent when I write these earnest odes? ...And where is that "coherence" you'd imply you have in loads?  I compose a song to sing with words of dancing rhyme; how much should I apologise, and when's it been a crime?  It a validating poetry.  It is honest and sincere. Composed as such to sing again, it's what I would cohere.

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Where is the alacrity your insults don't propound; from where must come your outrage that is specious and unsound?  From where would come your petulance, your pique, and your displeasure? What have you provided to discussions… we can measure?

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...And please don't tell me: "...many years of hard investigation." That just won't wash, you've had your chance, and agitate frustration. See? Enslaved to dodgy filters which inure you to your cant? "Presumptions" ooze "auspiciously," so you have that canted stance.

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Yeah… you print your "books" and make the "lists" but what have you to show? We're light-years from disclosure as you've hoed the wrong damned row! Sixty years have come and gone; the saucers still a "giggle."  Conspiracy has been "dismissed"; it's you to squirm and wiggle!

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Now I'm the one to stand accused because I'm asking questions—because I make suggestions more proactive than repressive. Implied, I'm "warm and fuzzy" in conspiracy's cocoon, that I'm the "lazy thinker" (…that I'm crazy as a loon?).

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Some say I lack coherence and I'm (only) having fun… and when the reading's over? "Lot 10" bullets fill their guns!  Yeah, I can be assaulted by extreme vituperations; that is not the point, of course in art's appreciation... ...Still, the work is never criticized, never ordered to shut down; I get letters showing ernest smiles, not mad and outraged frowns!  I'm seldom told to "just shut up..." Please give it up; relent!  You're by no means a writer.  You're a tedious lament."

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Back to their "coherence," it's comprised of narrow views. All of their "pronouncements" are just that, mere air they've used. Too, I doubt they have the competence to label me "insane," or make profuse assessments on how others use their brains! They lack imagination, They're laggard and they're "slow," they've moved not one step closer... so they'll reap what they would sow.

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Too, providing still more insult to those persons written to: "they have no art; they're artless fobs. They have no depth or truth."

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Pandering after big-shots is a futile path to take, they have no use for what I've got; I complicate their stake!  I mock their specious issues! I confuse the status quo. I confound them to distraction; I perplex them, and it shows?

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See? If I am right—they live in fear—they lose the cat-bird seat!  Everyone's *investment*? Up in smoke! That's hard to beat!

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If I am *right*, they're nullified! Their "culture" loses air! Everyone must "re-think work" that's paid them "fair and square." Everyone must take new stock! New kingdoms are at hand! A grander rule of law's prescribed by those who make their stand!

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Correct, I signal something that's beyond what we've been told! Correct I am their death knell. Correct? Their bell will toll!

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Still, I'll not be "taken seriously"—some officiously intone—until I kiss the ring of their... ignoble "status quo," ...but I would sooner kiss the ass of all that I detest than go along with what "some" say, or do as they suggest.
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See. These ply a blithe denial that is cloistered and concealed. They're airily dismissive on what's regularly revealed! They're arrogant, sententious, and très smug beyond belief... like they've explained the saucers, sport! ...And that should bring them grief! 

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It's true that I'll respect some folks for contributions made, you'll understand, then, why I'd act... to move beyond their shade.  I cannot guess what course they'd take, but mine is changing now. Perhaps to find their "silken purse"?  ...The ear of some "old sow."
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Too, for all their admonitions on the "science of these things," they're too "reserved" for most of us wanting truth that "action" brings.

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Oh, there's more to "this" than these let on—for all their acrimony—on the general conspiracy these dismiss as trite and phony.  J. Haldane informs us... existentially?  We're vast!  There is always more than is perceived and hugely unsurpassed!!!
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What is "known" is not known; then the unknown makes its play, and then the more unknowable... the unspeakable, that is to say, arise to be our teachers of the vast galactic way, and expel us from our "playpen" where we languish in cliche.

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See, there is a vast conspiracy, Sir, of a kind that you might find... in pursuit of vile agendas—très complex—that you've denied!  It's space/time and all surface area, of what can be has been, and it won't help that you deny what's true, in fact, ...and then?  Well, then it is you'll know despair that could have been precluded!  You'll come to know comeuppance, friend, and of hubris be denuded.

lehmberg2002@gmail.com
www.AlienView.net

Piercing the veil...

The Meme Of Extinction!

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I can step outside and find no limit with my finite mind...  What "mind" I have still reaches out beyond the "noise" complained about. ...To be amazed how much is plain, so gladly singing this refrain!  "The sky" is that which is forever.  We're not alone, see, whatsoever!
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We can't be, see: we are ourselves the proof we seek. ...And not the foremost I would think, a lesser light and on the brink of blowing all our chances... Think!  We are soldiers seeking that which compensates our effort's lack! Us, extant, is proof of them and they are here; be sure, good friends!
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The starry skies must crawl with life that's warmed by other suns, good Knight, and there is frequent evidence that this, profoundly, must exist! Zig-zag lights still fly due west without a sound I must confess! In truth I see them any time I put my eyes upon the sky!
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Still, the "bland officious" will propose I'm just pretentious... and pretend that one can't see the lights I see confronting me!  These "lights" are there, despite indifference, that measure of a crass insentience; society subsumed so some can profit like they've used a gun!
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"They" can make one "toe a line," deny one what they've earned [a crime!], and keep their heels upon ones neck—preclude someone a LIVING, yet!
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The Universe goes "on and on" in time that's—more than merely—long, where "anything" has happened there... righteous glory, cruel despair, or anything to fall between... a "yin" and "yang" of priceless being!
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Mainstream science won't respect regarding what they would neglect, and one cannot presume to know what shall not honor quid pro quo. Reality's appalled by this, this "ignorance" proclaimed a "bliss," but Science shows that it's gone wrong when it proclaims a "high ground" from, but then ignores—all seven levels—of evidence it does not settle.  Why, it won't even take a look!  That's an act of cheats and crooks!
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...A universe, not user friendly, is where one lives a life completely. Though not a place for faint of heart... it's still a heart's component part... Truth's required to give life meaning. "Antithesis" is just demeaning. This is why we need a Science we can look to... with reliance!
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All this *stuff* complained about just bubbles at our core, I shout! We could no more stop its egress than one might stop a bullet's progress. There is something going on and someone knows; the feeling's strong, and I perceive what's been denied by institutions I've decried.
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There are ...wonders... prepossessed by psychopaths we should detest! These are men who jerk the reigns, manipulate our trusting brains... with propaganda they enjoin to keep their status quo enjoyed! These, the folk alluded to, are most cross-purposed, it is true.  They are not our culture's champion, they're imagination's dampening!
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Now "we," ourselves are being ignored, a "bunch employed" but then deplored!  We're forced to aid what would subsume our greater effort... be consumed? We scrap like wolves around a carcass, bitch and snap like Klingons, Marcus... ...tearing off odd chunks of meat... so meaningless... and no great treat! Case in point, hate reappears... too, we yield gladly to our fears. What remains... shall not be spared... as "points are made" or "dollars squared"!
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Most won't do the "selfless thing" and psychopaths must reign supreme. See, no one needs a "peer review" where "rule of law" is not abused! It remains we're soggy jetsam... awash on moldy decks of flotsam, and thrown against sharp rocks for those who profit by our ignorance, Holmes!
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We find at last we're living lies that we now learn we should despise: that priests are men above reproach; a lawyer's not a slimy roach; policemen are the friends we need; best sanctify a "selfish greed"? That UFOs do not exist, that folks aren't "taken"—time's not "missed"—and we can trust our government is more than "bovine excrement"?
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Well—I'm alive beyond that jive of what's been made up or contrived. I am, one, no longer fooled by what they'd had me learn in school.
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I have senses; I can see, I can hear and think... I'm FREE! I'll report the truth perceived without your baggage.  You've been relieved!
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Left to, but, my own devices (an "idle mind" is truly priceless!), I have found with cynicism, how some react to criticism. Too, if "they" take it personally, I might be right... these fail to see!
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I know you're scared; well... I'm scared too... But someone knows, you know it's true. There is "something" underlying; "someone's" there there's no denying, and it's, in fact, a lighted fart that we're "protected" for their part!
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We don't share a "blessed" ignorance! We're not served by our indifference! They'd say that we won't WANT to know... but then they would!  We've seen the show.
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"Knowing", I suspect, improves... ...the quality of life abused. If one is one—in fact—informed, then one achieves some "better" form.
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History shows that we're not served by lies and obfuscations heard. Secrets which are kept from you are what you'd want to know!  It's TRUE!
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It's your loss if you don't "know."  Truth's a "boon" they'll not bestow. They would lose their "cat-bird seat," and they'd not suffer that defeat!  Terence said that it's a crime that you're denied that truth sublime, to go to death without "that" touch, is "to go to death sans sex, as such."
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Your ignorance is their advantage!  You are kept at disadvantage.  Your ignorance rewards those pleased to prosecute their lust and greed.  You are there for them to burn, and that is what you're loath to learn; you're beneath corrupt content.  Your misery is "heaven" sent!
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You shan't "profit"; you're made stupid, and that's the role of "institutions" which are closed to "oversight." They're hiding stuff that shatters NIGHT!  See, we don't need to "SEARCH" for truth, that's a dodge beneath one's use.  Where you want your problems "aced"... is where you know "a truth" but "FACED"!


lehmberg2002@gmail.com
www.AlienView.net

...Boxed Protocols... Mendacious Mainstreams...

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We ofttimes hear too zealous calls for UFOs of "protocol", and I, with some delight, must find... that I'm outside that "box" defined! Now why that "box" exists is moot, the "hows" and "wherefores" so much toot, but I have given up too much to go without a fight, as such.
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Though, why would I confide "delight," but that I fight a righteous fight, convinced—I am—that truth is served to combat "crap" without reserve! See, I don't do the "turned-cheek" thing; to strike me is to feel my sting! Still, I'll accept a "slap" I've earned; I'm not mendacious one will learn.
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I don't defer to crass attack, so I'm a "megalomaniac"?  I work with words, a tad contentious, so I'm dismissed as too pretentious? See, I would think outside their box, explore new realms and "undo knots"! So I'm the new intractable—my "thinking" then detestable?
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No, careful, I have kept my "screeds" to that which others may agree... is allowed in ones behavior... why, even Christ, who some call savior. I say I don't attack the "man"... of needs I must attack his "stand"... if  I find I disagree with what's perceived confronting me?
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"Ideas" are the paths I seek. "Ideas" can be checked for "leaks." ... "Aspect" is the meme confused, debated on these paths, in truth!  "Dictates" are dismissed outright.  "Proclamations" fuel a fight.  No one owns the UFOs we have seen to streak and glow.  Hubris haunts our skies we find.  We're not alone. We seek some sign.
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If "attack's" perceived as personal? I'd surmise: one's pre-conditional! I'd suggest: repost falls short, and it's that which "twists the shorts."
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Retreat in rage to be perceived as having lost the points one needs to keep ones place at anxious tables... precipitating sneers and labels!
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Friend, I've small patience for all that; to me? That's so much insentient crap.
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Too, give me one, just one example, a tiny shred of just one sample where invective or an insult issued from my words or conduct!  All you find has been provoked by hubris found, with which you're soaked, or crass insentience one displays when their thinking's reappraised.
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...Persons like one "Richy Reynolds," a scabrous scourge bereft of courage; a smearing, leering—crap-filled scut who owes me money... and a lot.* ...Or anyone who trifles me. Camembert? The cowardly; those who grind a backward axe can quite queue up to kiss my ass... Pettingill? Oh, he "means well..." but it remains. You guessed it: smell.
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...Hummm... It does seem I lack reluctance, my "tolerance" bereft abundance. I am quick to take offence! Too, specious sneers insure calescence. I guess I am a scourge, then, too... provoked to same! The same as you?
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...No! I point out your unbrave curse—do your harm! Perform your worst! From these efforts then we'll see! Ones real "being" then perceived: a churlish louse bereft of class, and every bit as bad as Klass!

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See, I'll attack "ideas" friend—read: stalled approaches some pretend. Too, that's the thing provoking this, this call for "rules" which I've dismissed. Dissent is "truth" one best allow. Or "Consequence" in just amounts...
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Too, I'd suggest "the man's" remiss in what he's done, the cause of "this." I would challenge his performance or face his affect so abhorrent... I would question fruit, you see, provided by his proffered tree. If it's toxic or contrived?  My conscience dictates... I decline!
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What we lack is all... humility.  So space and time contrives... futility.  We can't avail our Kingdom come, that's THERE to be availed, chum.  Space and time is promised—"vast"—where "everything's" contained... amassed.  All one "thinks" is found out there... and all one can't is there... to dare!
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See, I'd propose that UFOs are obvious and "SOMEONE" knows! Those quick to kill pro-active effort, or quick dismissing those alerted, those quick enough with poison pen but slow to cop their own pretence?  Persons like that Reynolds skunk—that "soaked in non-earned hubris" punk.  Men like him would foul the joint, erode our edge, and miss the point.
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Fifty years have gone, and how. Too, still the truth's obscured! Still now!
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What's "your" part in all of this? Explore that not and be re-miss...  ...Where is Richy's clarity, point to his sincerity, show me where his contribution has improved our institution... and done not but stir up crap that he provides with backhand slaps.
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Most, today, are led astray by those who use their skills "that" way. That "way" I speak of uses ruses, psychopath's profuse excuses; "earnest" and "convincing," yes, but detrimental none-the-less. These would lead one down "that" path, all primrose covered hidden trash... which pounces like an angry beast to bite you on the ass—at least!
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...It could be argued I describe... myself I must, to you, confide... But I am on my guard for that... don't take my word, though it's a fact.
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I think most persons reading this would vouch for me. Am I remiss? I am sincere, have "confidence"... if based upon uncommon sense, and won't deny I love myself, but not too much. It's mental health!  Seems that love precludes, you know, a mainstream's suspect status quo.
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See...Our "mainstream" lacks a "centrist" bent... required for a centrist's sense! Our "Mainstream" works to "void" and "sully"! Willful, it despoils and bullies that which "shall not" give its blessing! Angered, it is quite distressing!
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These must see the harm they do as they pursue bad cants... it's true. But they don't care. You're just an asset, fruit to squeeze, for juice, but face it. Chase their mainstream as it is? Be doomed to disappointment, friend.
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Trust this "mainstream" at your peril, it renders you as mute and sterile. It won't respect what you have done... 'cause if it does, it comes undone! See, that arrives right at the point where culture needs some growth! The point?

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...If "heaven" falls with just a tug, then what's its value? Pull its plug!!!
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What's beyond that heaven sought? What's new regards our battles fought? Single persons make that call... but few avoid new "protocols."
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"Protocols" promote exclusion and prevent the odd intrusion of ideas which astound... the "search for truth," agreed profound? Go along with what's "been done," so don't progress—and lose the Sun—as sullen "white" men have their way, their old ideas holding sway!
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These men inflate that "hijacked mainstream" for the mass's dim-bulbed low-beam. We would think they are the same, when they are NOT! We're not to blame. We masses are manipulated, our will is mocked and dissipated by the efforts in control of that which "mainstreams" bought and sold!
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...I don't fill their mouths with words... as they'd accuse. I don't concur.  I may read between their lines... and garner, there, what I might find. Then I'd write what I've perceived they've said to me—I do believe!
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Self-promotion seems the rule, though 'some' will 'do' for others, true. But I don't think I sing strained praises... for myself. I'd think it graceless.
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Others carry on and whine about their "talents"—how they "shine." I observe and comment gamely. I'm not sorry or complaining. I'd just show you where I stand. On "protocols"? They make me glad.
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Though in a good way? I think not. My saber's thirsty. Come on out...
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In closing I just want to say:  a Phyrric win, at best, you'll pay. That's the least that I'll concede. No surrender, no retreat.


alienview@roadrunner.com
www.AlienView.net

It's a "box" that's kept us from our heart's desire. It's a "box" that's precludes our satisfaction regarding the outre.  It's a "box" that makes an enemy of what might have been an ally…
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It's a "box" precluding synergy, advancement, inclusion, elevation, and actualization. It's "boxes" that would hide the truths, support the lies and keep individuals deaf and dumb. It is "boxes" that have held us down, tied us up, and shut us out.  This is of course apart from boxes with relevance and efficacy which provide for some kind of useful pattern recognition or utility.  It's the boxes fossilizing to dogma I speak about here, eh?  The former is not the issue.  Don;t even go there.  Desist, stat.  Retreat.  Stop.
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Reality is a vast, vast "market place of ideas," ladies and gentle-bunkies, ideas you know and ideas you CAN'T know, not a company store stocking only wilted vegetables and tedious memes of persons like the aforementioned Rich Reynolds . Breathe with freedom!
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Challenge your "boxes." Authorities require their questioning or they begin to feel entitled... entitled where they are not.  Answering challenges is a rational wage, reader, for assuming the mantle of authority—for daring to proscribe a box! That box by any other name could be a coffin for an idea... or a "safe-room," only, a safe-room where the danger is ironically locked inside with you!
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...And Stop!  I hear the whiny internal dialog, nip it!
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I reiterate!  I won't argue the need for some "boxes," scientific, moral, ethical, pecuniary, or otherwise!  We have to be able to take *stuff* to the *bank*... still be able to make predictions on the "long term" as much as is able and sane; still have the "minimal predictability" necessary to pursue some kind of happiness. Let's avoid the absurd. Thanks.
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Still, I'd guess the contention is access or egress to and from these boxes, but assuredly being allowed out of the fraggin' box, eh, even speculating on what might be beyond the limits of the freaking box in question. Secrets, potentially as disrespectful as they can contrive to be, are irritating at best.
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For an individual?  That box is hell on earth if "inside"... and a raging tease if "outside." Subsequently, I think this current airy suggestion for new boxes should be viewed with suspicion and unfavorably for that. Boxes render enemies artlessly created.
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Someone always comes up on a limit to the "box" and is nonplussed in some way. That's bad enough when the box has arguable necessity but intolerable where the box is contrived nonsense and naught but a sociopathic dodge for the personal gain of the "morally unethical" ...or maintenance of some specious status quo, preferred if bogus history, inured cowardice, or even hurt feelings.
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It's boxes that keep us from the stars; it's boxes that keep those stars from us.
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Restore John Ford!
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Read on.

*For damages a result of slander per se: http://alienviewgroup.blogspot.com/2005/11/smoke-and-fire.html

...The Mainstream's Evidentiary ...

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Betrayal's a coinage that shall not be spent except where it's misspent against common sense, and I have discovered while out of that "box"—and as quick as a hare even fast as a FOX—the soul of confusion's at work with a passion! Confusion's the rule, or I'm just [gas passin'].
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Where is the profit embracing a tyranny, forgetting our history, or losing our memory? Many years were invested, much time had been spent; we all have a stake in this "other" we've sensed!
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"We" could try harder to show some respect for the base "rank and file" gone dismissed, I reflect. Betrayed by authority, beset by class cheats, these are the prey whom a charlatan seeks!
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Still, words are the magic I've used to convey a fellowship found in our world holding sway, so I must be insolent, and challenge these "proud," and knock them from towers and run them to ground, as persons won't often step up to the plate where the umpire's cheating—perverting our fate!
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Some carry on about 'data' and 'science', and bore on forever statistic's "reliance," protesting the lack of respect they'd withhold from the proactive drive of the more-active bold!  Science is wondrous, it quite fills a bill, its rules and its razors most circumspect, still... but it's not the whole of experience, friend...  use it for everything?  You'll misapprehend!
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The mainstream detests "us," that's where it's not keen, so true recognition's denied us all, see? The mainstream's invested in all the "big lies"!  A few follow "rules"... for their trouble?  Deprived.
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A pro-active effort's decried and demeaned, and a pro-social action's despised as obscene! Ones simple conjecture to help fill the "void" is attacked without mercy, abhorred and destroyed. There is no "discussion," there is no "debate" of the sort that's not answered with malice and hate.
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There is only divergence and dis-integration. There are base accusations with flimsy foundation. A pro-active effort that's made in good faith is dismissed with revulsion and heaped with disgrace!
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Too, this seems so reflexive, cross-purposed, and mean. What does it indicate? What does it mean? Where is the unity as shared by the "bunkies"? Petty squabbles help paint us as "dweezles" and "flunkies"!
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...We can be these flunkies, produced in deceit, awash in the system's complacent conceit. Confused by a mainstream that herds us like goats, one hand in our pocket and one on our throats. We're sheeple abused by a culture that's driven to hide an agenda so old and well hidden.
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Secrets abide! We would find its no joke... conspiracy rules, and with that, little hope.
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Some put the blame on an interested "buff," dismissed on a whim like they've sinned quite enough! Some go a-field to insult hapless people—expected to buy what they're selling, be real!
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Too, narrow the scope to a slender percentage that *science* would measure to shore up its image (?) and find at the last that their less is not more… See? They've closed all the avenues and sealed their doors.
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They don't reward diligence... a convenient retreat... that those "charmed" have assumed for their use. What deceit!
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The problem remaining? They've not progressed... from the first of last century! Of needs, I protest! Advancement's sub-glacial and shall not move on! It is tepid, distracted, too slow and prolonged!
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It won't get its air time as it shan't get respected! So? A change to the order of folks "they" neglected! Those who were "first" will assume a "last" place in a future the future will bring in its grace!
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There's more than is dreamt in the dreams of mere man. There's more than we would or we could understand. There's more than's allowed than is measured with "tools" which limit ones "reach" to the "grasp" of a fool.
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It's not the "new-ager" who howls from the dust which comes from the folks whom we thought we could trust. It's not the "fringe wacko" proclaiming his dreams for a shot at a book deal that some find obscene. Its not from an "armchair" the enemy comes, or from newbies who frequent our world—beating drums.
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It comes from a mainstream that most still pursue, though it "chumps" them completely and plays them for fools.  See, the "fringe" is a symptom; it's not the disease! It's duplicitous "mainstreams" causing scabs on our knees! ...And still they would chase it, fair caper and fawn, for mainstreams of psychopaths who string them along.

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Now me, all I'm seeing are lights in the sky, and folks whom I trust tell me "truths" and don't "lie." Too, my culture's the liar who fronts for "those charmed"!  See, it's the price put on justice that should cause one alarm!
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The cops? ...As corrupt as the lawyers they fear and the priests? Smirking pederasts who pander and leer. The media's fraught with its "too pretty face" who contrives an acceptance for a future disgraced. What is trust worthy in what we have now? …can't make a silk purse from the ear of a sow!
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Ufology's laughed at? Abductees demeaned? Researchers are wasting their time, losing steam? That mainstream is sullen and won't give an inch. See, if it does it unravels!  Hey! Son-of-a-bitch!
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One little pull on a thread in its cloak and the whole thing unravels! The cloak is a joke! It'll never acknowledge the work of Dick Hall!  It won't bow to SCIENCE or METHOD, at all!
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Real science? A threat to the old status quo! A jab in the ass of "the man", don't you know? Don't think for a minute that this "man" will play fair. Think anything else and be doomed to despair!
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So where are we now in advancing the truth? How can we but put what we've learned to best use?
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The tools in the shed have been sharp as a tack. But tools are neglected, mal-used or mis-racked. Scalpels spread butter, hammers crack eggs, while the mainstream's unsettled that "weird-stuff," has legs!
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A "gauntlet's" been made and that's not a bad thing, that the claims which are made should be checked in refrain..., but gauntlets turn ugly, attacks are then made which are seen as more personal... a wrongness put paid!
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Divergence is key to the treasure of choice. It defines our successes, puts range on our voice. Too, betray at your peril the people you need to support your "good" work, you will need them indeed… Practice exclusion and find you're shut out, just so much "passed gas" I was talking about.


alienview@roadrunner.com
www.AlienView.net

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At the risk of being "entirely incomprehensible" to the much too easily—and conveniently—baffled... ...or "inordinately unintelligible" to the too reflexively—and predictably—dismissive... I protest again that we are—all of us—betrayed by a "hijacked mainstream" and a "criminal culture."  T'was ever that indeed not so.
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This is a seeming obviousness remaining inexplicably beside the contrived—if "offical"—point.  Are we really that unbrave?  Maybe you don't need to look for answers to the preceding but face the answers to the preceding.
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Some, like the former of the aforementioned types of persons, seem oblivious to this betrayal, and some, like the latter, seem decidedly ok with it, but virtually all of these persons function—whether they know it or not—to give a duplicitous faux-mainstream power, authority, and an unprincipled and punitive pecuniary punch, a punch wholly undeserved and unjust.  The "mainstream" handily abdicates its responsibility to be centrist—to become instead a foot on the neck of the individual remotely critical of it. How is this not so?
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As a failed public school teacher, I, among others, endure many years of lost wages as a result—pretty directly—for refusing to reflexively validate a corrupt and duplicitous mainstream in operation around me.  An unethical and unlawful one.
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A freaking "war hero" and retired military officer graduating Summa with a teaching credential from a respected University—not Yale—I was found to be unacceptable for any position in our education "system."  I digress, but still this ufological cannon-fodder seems willing, if reluctant, to step forward into the breech of the establishment buzz-saw to pursue this thing about UFOs.  Why is that?
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The row to hoe is ultimately unrewarding in the aggregate. At least not rewarding in the sense appreciated by crass materialists as yet unaware that money can't buy happiness... even as it is not even likely to encourage same, am I right?  Search your feelings, young Padawan. The best things in life are supposed to be free!
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With regard to the pursuit of this individual experience, it matters not the collected array of impressive witnesses and (intelligently) volunteered official documentation of that experience... even physical evidence, reader!  It matters not regarding police reports of anomalous sightings recorded in specific areas and times by professional persons with spotless reputations. It matters not the reported abductions, voluminous reports with regard to those abductions, or samples of the kinds of evidence it has been seriously alleged can be produced to support these, albeit, startling claims.  It matters not. The hurdle shoved before us is high. It matters not...  Remains that all this evidentiary flotsam does seem to be extraordinary.  Did it need to be extraordinary?
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We must embrace this thing still, for all our reluctance, fear, dread, or intense trepidation. It is our responsibility, our fate, even our destiny ...and I gladly admit I suspect the preceding only as a result of an enduring decades-long intuition, I remind the reader.  That matters not! I believe it is an imperative of our individual consciousness: admit this "other" and search it out. Search it out!
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Consider for a moment that quality big city medical groups could show interest in this contested "other," peripherally evidenced by these very peculiar abduction affairs, for example. It seems the aforementioned medical groups should be intrigued by the evidence that this conjectured abduction affair seems to be "a typical if anomalous occurrence precipitating a regional anomalous medical condition."  The medical groups alluded to should be justifiably piqued? Serious people should begin to take serious subjects seriously.  They don't.
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This "interest" is generated by weird physical manifestations—also be documented to a degree—which, in expert opinion, cannot be self-inflicted, hoaxed, or contrived, moreover. A curious set of affairs at the very least, reader:  implants, wounds, blemishes, rashes, and witheringly weird whatnot...
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Forget the truth or falsehood of these claims a moment!  The claimer might be willing to stand on some precipice with his claims, regardless, whatever the reader's assessment! The claimant might be willing to provide assurances (given assurances), that those claims could be backed... remembering also that evidence of veracity is demanded of this ufological cannon-fodder in a manner not remotely asked of church, institution, agency, organization, or state, only that which contravenes or invalidated the aforementioned claimant ! This is a glaring point for the rank and file of "interested individuals," decent persons on both sides of the bell curve but outside the loop of the aforementioned closed institutions I think it fair to add... maybe not.
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"No good deed will go unpunished," apparently, and "the evil that men do lives on and on... while the good that they do is interred with their bones..." These particular bones are too reflexively interred (with seeming prejudice) given the, to date, acceptable history of many of the bones in question, I find myself evaluating the judging more than the judged. How about you?
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"Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence"? Flying Monkey droppings. How so?
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That speciously unbrave and irreverently fatuous argument above regarding "extraordinary claims requiring extraordinary evidence" has been righteously (and I think reasonably) exploded by one Jean Van Gemert as a "think cloak" assumed to provide retreat for the garden variety skeptibunky, only. It is a clever feint into the obvious fallacy for an always "receding evidentiary horizon."

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See, this argument assumes that the "evidence" can always be made subordinate to an evaluation of the claim's *extraordinariness* which remains defined only by the skeptibunky and has no upper limit! The evidence, it can be arbitrarily decided, is never extraordinary enough!
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That's a sword cutting only one way, reader. It has no place in science (imnsho), forgetting that it's not the skeptibunkies, good reader, who are going to solve this little ufological conundrum for the genuinely interested, anyway! No, it is the intrepid members of a conscientiously courageous team individually (and bravely) stepping up to the hard-ball plate and expecting a clean pitch from a respected colleague who in turn can put wood directly on that ufological pill!
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In the way is the posit that we really don't want to know the truth.  It's messy, people lose their cat-bird seats, and have to pay for it.  Hard cheese.
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If an extraordinary claim requires extraordinary evidence, reader, then a mundane claim requires evidence which is correspondingly mundane! That's ridiculous, eh? A mundane claim requires the same quality of evidence establishing its truth or falsehood, no more. No less! I submit this holds true for the extraordinary claim, as well! Non-wavy Gravy for Gander and Goose!
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Another little mainstream chestnut used to prosecute its continuing betrayal of the individuals facilitating it.
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There are more of these chestnuts.

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

Restore John Ford!

...Perforce!

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Some go beyond all limits in transgression, I assert. Opposed to same, this "service" paid by "lip": See, "letters" drooling poison make a heinous circulation, and we make ourselves the less to honor this!
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Not this letter mind you! This? A letter read aloud! A letter in defense and of the light! I speak of coward's letters, then, injected on the sly. A murmured assignation lacking "stomach" for a fight!
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Do you think he's stopped because, perforce, you do not even "see" him? No, his way's perseveration, 'till he's dead! Too, I submit a "shadow runner" must prefer to "run in shadow" as the light precludes his comfort, it's been said.
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...And that's the way of slugs and snails sans bones to stiffen backs, and sans such, then, they cannot stand erect!  The talk they "talk" won't walk its "walk" and their courage must desert them... ...there was precious little "courage" to detect!
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These "letters" are corrosive—lacking aspect they just fake—shooting "shadow-shots" from corners where they hide! They do not break the surface, they're just murmurs out of sight, so if they can't go public they're a scourge bereft of right!
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Too, I'd have thought us better than to poison our own wells, but that is what's occurring in low tones. If these concerns are valid then I'd think that in the open... is, then, where this whole "discussion" be condoned.
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...And, if one cannot be forthright,and desist the slander used, then one should "hold their mud" and just step off!  One should make their peace, old sod, and live to let one live... but preclude these "snipes" or "whispers" I've called out!
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See, I'm an honest sort of guy. I've lived consistent years; I disavow the faults been whispered there!  In my fashion I am stalwart and an efficacious kind—of the sort that sticks his chin out, or the sort who takes a dare!
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Still, from where would come an enmity used, perforce, to take me down? Why demean my very character so badly?  Why divorce my contribution from the dialog we'd seek just because some are so tight-assed, I add gladly.
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These go beyond the tightassed where you want to know the truth—where facts are perspicacious and respected.  They're dirty-playing scalawags avoiding lip-served ethics they distort to suit their ends.  Be disaffected.
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Still why destroy my effort if I want to take some action that's proactive, open-minded, if  opposed? Don't count on cheeks as turning when I catch you in the act! I'll gather up some shirtfront and then punch you in the throat!
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Too, what's been solved by my detractors? What's been done in all this time… that the principals involved have solved, at best?  They're moving nowhere closer to the questions one might ask. We still wander in confusions we detest!  Contribution has been lacking and bereft of all good sense, a stirring at the bottom of our pond. Suffice to say turbidity's increased beyond all sense; sensibility is sullied, flayed, and conned.
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Perhaps one's "disconcerted" by my "perspicacious" tone, regarding which I'll have no shame about! I contend I'm like the moth, perforce, compelled too close to "flame," but compelled to better questions? "Flames" I'll flout!
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I'm not your vagrant nut-roll, see; I'm not easily dismissed!  I have a ready confidence I'll employ! Too, trifle in impertinence or sneer at me to learn that I've a literary saber you'll enjoy!
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There's more to me than meets your eye. Perforce, you have been warned... I'm an unrelenting rage of sharp ablation!  See, I get the correspondence that's employed in your "campaigns"... I can see that you attempt—assassination!
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So I provide this testament, appropriate and true, I'm held in high regard and have endorsement! It's obviously needed, this shameless self-promotion, as "whispers" have no rules or law enforcement!
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...I'd strike the sun if it offended me... ...and some provide offense, and some beyond the limits of the pale!  These owe effuse apologies and seven figure damages for slander—called "per se"—whom I assail!


alienview@roadrunner.com
www.AlienView.net

I'm over 65 so I offer that I am authorized some small pretentiousness... though, I won't call it that at all.  I've an aspiration to sincerity and grasp.  I aspire to snatch the literary stars from the sky and show them you, pour them into your hand... thrill and inspire you...
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Moreover, I've flown helicopters down that barrels of big guns, taken hits, and been forced down in combat; I'm entitled to my aspirations and pretentions.  I'll snatch them from the reader's covetous hand as mine remembering I served better than I was served!
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Further pardon, please, my overweening "pretentiousness," but if the expression is in verse, the expression is in verse. Put that on a growing list of things I'm not ashamed of... ...Moreover, know that one so moved to the irritation alluded to can pack, north of their anxious anal prolapse, some wet sand and freshly broken glass.
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To wit... end the whispers now. If they're good enough to be made at all, they're good enough to be made in public where they can be produced with a respected conviction obviously lacking heretofore, or they'd be said straight out, right?

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Too, they wouldn't be whispers any longer... but that's OK.  The only good whisper is a reverent whisper.
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On the subject of clarity?  I submit that you don't have to remotely wonder what I'm writing about, eh?  No, you have to do the, albeit, harder thing; you have to FACE what I'm writing about.  All the information is there and most of the right words are used.  No apologies that they chap an occasional ass.  It remains one learns to use their right-click, define the meme, and take a step up!

Restore John Ford! 

No Taste For Worship...

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So, you think that I'm pretentious where it's you the Philistine... ...with all your taste so landlocked in your mouth! That I'd crash your specious heavens to recover satisfaction is the problem that you're really on about. That I would question hoary "truths," in word and paint and deed is the fuel for your 'assessment'... the excuse you don't concede!
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See, I'm more than mere "pretentiousness"! I'm glaring with contentiousness! I'm all the valid guidance I need trust. I'm a pie with righteous filling, and my content is fulfilling to an "art," I'm thinking, has abundant crust!  Moreover, my attention can be caustic (it transpires to the toxic) where your "mechanisms" wither from its touch.  Your hubris is offensive and that's why you're apprehensive and it's where I would defeat you; as, I must.
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Too, you think that I am arrogant? Well—that does me glad, my friend! All that is, is more example where you're 'off'.  I'm way beyond mere "arrogance", I would DARE to "soar and cleave"... it is clear that you have missed the point, for cost! That thing I have is confidence you're finding so offensive. It's provoking your dismissal, friend! It's why you're so defensive.
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I'm more than merely "arrogant"! I'd ridicule your ignorance: that which keeps you in a "darkness," I'll not have! ...And I've a strong suspicion that you see as "further still," what's perceived as well behind me," by my "nav"...
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You are, quite right, in one regard. I have a 'love' for self. If I didn't (?) then I'd have none left for you! A "love of self" is crucial, and respected by ones fellows! To have value one must dare to seek self-truth! The trick's to keep humility, and be honest with your folks, then these folk might find you interesting (?), and genuine (?)—not a joke!
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Don't "believe your own report cards" or be a quick and easy discard, as it's folks will queue up quick to pull your tail... Ones love for self is fine until you "get a taste for worship... ...then they're bringing out their hammers...boards and nails..."
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Too, I'd call myself an artist, or a poet if I pleased, as that one to be convinced (?) is finally... me! I don't need your validation to continue what I'm doing 'cause I know that at the end (?), I'm off my knees! ...And, free to sneer at craggy peaks of culture's glad conceit, I provide for satisfactions I'm denied by its deceit!
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"Perception is reality," and I don't strain credulity, I'm saying "I believe"... good neighbor... ...you can too! I am the kind of artist of the type that pleases me. I'm a poet who'd relate a quest for truth.
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Too, most folks prove they get it as they write me frequent notes, if they've found that my expressions are spot-on! When the meter and my visions have combined to share a story that has touched them in good ways—that can't be wrong! If I provide assistance to my fellows of that kind, I can see a little further yet, myself, in my own mind!
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Too, I perceive I'm indiscreet, but risen to my righteous feet! I spread my arms and take my "leap of faith"! The arms of friendly people needn't catch me, I'm not falling (!), and I'm lightly touching truth upon her face!
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...And, YES! I'm seeing UFOs which fly from time to time, as I look into my starry stellar reaches! ...Too, I can't care a wit if people think I might be crazy when I write 'em up in pieces that concede it! Christ, yes, I'm seeing UFOs! They're there if you look up! They're as common cream and sugar in a cosmic coffee cup!  One must eschew their ego and then open up the fence, contrive, perhaps, to drop their fearful gates. To lose an inhibition not constructive on the whole, to give up on their bigotries and hates!
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Propeller heads agree that "they are out there" (!), don't you see? They are "out there," ...but these can't accept they're... here! That threatens their "investments" and the "way" they've lived their lives, and it whispers in the dark to trembling ears...
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So forget that I'm "pretentious", as I see things as they are and, I'm not that much impressed by your indifference. My "arrogance" is confidence that I'm on the better path... to a future quite ignoring your indifference! See, I'll choose to steer my own course, follow muses I can hear, and write those satisfactions I report... ...and sans all fear!
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Even failing I aspire to have that place where I'm on fire and perhaps to even grasp it, I beseech. "Mighty forces" give assistance where the brave avoids resistance and they make ones grasp more equal... to a reach!
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Too! I'll always take your "challenge," hoss, but stay outside your tiny box! There's more to space and sky than you have told! See, friend, you're a liar so, must make a "buttocks sandwich," but replace that processed cheese with... yes, your nose!
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Please!  Dismiss me as "pretentious," and good friend?  I'll eat your face!  Your offensive lack of courage cants civility. That I would make the reach, beyond yourself, where you're too timid! The consequence?  My "Incomprehensibility."


alienview@roadrunner.com
www.AlienView.net

Scratching through!

No meanness like old meanness.

...Numbed...

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Science is wondrous! It gives us ourselves! Its gift's a release from our "devils" and "hells."  It's turned us to *gods*—though a lower case "g"—and it's gone a long way for the "brave" and the "free." It's made us efficient, extended our reach, expanded our grasp... all in all? It's a peach!
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...But that's a veneer made too much of itself!  Remains it's a threat to our happiness! Health!  Terence McKenna was to show, in his day, that science wrote checks that its ass couldn't pay! Science: a tool for efficient incision, but what it is NOT is religious conviction.  Verily, yes, it is this that it does, with a wave and a nod and an arrogant buzz: but proudly demand that itself be the judge of that it dismisses, ignores... and misjudged.
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...Still, it shows we're a mote in the eye of the cosmic, a flicker of sentience not alone in the dark! It flies in the face of complacent indifference, our pride, self-possession and a hubris gone stark! Though, we choose to avoid larger lessons it teaches, that we're a mere speck in the eye of some God who is so far above us he's blithely forgotten to give us attention, and so spares us his rod!
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Perforce we are plagued with an odious ignorance... the sordid results of those faults all our own, as some lack respect for the folk shoved beneath them... where lacking compassion draws blood from a stone!
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Yes, some we "ignore," and these keep for themselves, the secrets improving our lives? Bloody HELL!!
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The secret? That—power—to stand quite alone, take control of your "self", and be—safe—in your home? Well, not trifled by persons providing short change, withholding respect and then showing disdain! There is a free lunch that will keep us alive beyond the constrictions of some, I surmise. But profit's now made with its roots in what's passed and we are obliged to "light farts"—read "burn gas."
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"Some" worship proud science and grind to a halt! Their message is shallow! Its substance needs salt! Their shtick is a limit imposed to pretend that they, quite alone, are your saviors and friends. But that's an untruth and the same kind of lie that I find in man's Gods I decry and despise. See, worship your science and find, with a start, you're losing direction, your purpose—your heart!
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The "mainstream's" co-opted, distorted, deranged, and pulled from the path of a truth-seeking brain! Its true use corrupted from what it should be—a "sense" that is "common", yet wise, and—YES!—free!
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The mainstream's been hijacked by those with "agendas," psychopaths burning our bridges "befriend" us, and we're at a loss in their sea of malfeasance... They've hijacked our will... ...then expect an obeisance!
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My common sense tells me that UFOs are; forgetting we can't know they come from the stars.  Though I am amazed at the conscience of some who would discount the evidence, so prove they're benumbed. Numb in a way that insures our dependence... Numb in a way that precludes our release... Numb in a way that is self-manufactured and lurking those shadows? Disgrace and defeat!
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The "bunkies" opposing are busily passionate, the rest of us tired and lacking resolve. The bunkies are focused, concordant, and allied, the rest us back-bite, or quibble and stall. The bunkies get "air time" and coast the main stream, truthseekers self-publish or live in their dreams.
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So how does it work that the least has the most; that the few will abide as the rest become toast. Well, the bunkies have "science" and "God" on their side, so the rest of us suffer a psychopath's ride! None call it treason that few would conspire to limit the heights to which we'd aspire. Though we are constrained, and against our best interests! Misinformed and benumbed: we are weak and defenseless!
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Comes a new dawn when the Eschaton's here. Concrescence is looming to predispose fear. We as we were? Well, we won't have a clue. We as we'll be? Friend, that's a guess, too.

alienview@roadrunner.com
www.AlienView.net

Man's Gods.  God's of "Man."  Memes and ideas, compelling though they may be and created by an individual, first, to stay on a perceived intellectual incline, are ultimately hijacked and corrupted by the unelected few to do the convenient bidding of those few.  These are the the remnants of betrayed Truth, reader, caught in a cloying aspic of lies and wielded by psychopathic charlatans wearing dresses and collars. Though, expires "the man's" God as man expires, perhaps.  What is God without humankind but regarded not at all.  Verily.  That's what happens to a "God" you invent to do your own bidding.
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See, true stories, myths, and legends—once captured in impressed clay and old stone from 8000 BCE and beyond—endure, indeed, but, unfortunately become distorted archetypes, memes and mythic metaphors receiving the most current "indoctrinating spin": a spin exclusively facilitating pompous priests and klasskurtxian kings and waxing on the most "common" of the "common era" truths, only!  No real empowering stuff shared, eh?  Just "control mechanisms" of the immortal 1%...  truths at last perverted and otherwise distorted to become a vehicle for the authoritarian rule of feckless misanthropes like Big Dick Cheny.  As history is largely writ by the sociopath, there is of needs a clearer and more honest record of same when one reads between the lines... or in the alternative history extant... for example Zinn, Parenti, or Loewen.  Humankind is predisposed out of greed to the low road reader, and this is precisely why we have phony "feel-good" one.  That true history raises too many questions... along with eyebrows and tempers and so begs the question. "Why do we do this to ourselves?"  Why indeed.
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Praise God, eh? Not so fast, Skippy. Not unless it is the God described by Theodore Sturgeon in his capstone novel, Godbody. His is the only gospel worth considering, imo.  Read it and see for yourself. Described is the way religion might be—needs to be—could be.
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See, like Sturgeon, and Spinoza and Santayana, my "mal-attributed" atheism is born out of my true appreciation and respect for the unknowable universe and not a result of the errant Gods fashioned by men to do their self-serving and convenient will as alluded to above... commercial Gods made and then re-made out of whole cloth to impose the desires of a predatory few. Remade?
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Evolution is fact!  It's "Natural Selection" that is the theory, my Anthropology teacher once informed me, though a theory falling short, pretty much, where it comes to regard humankind.  Evolution...
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Consider the, now ages old, evolution of the Sumerian god Enlil where it is proposed of God's evolution that it must be at least touched by some form of Darwinian imprimatur, eh? ...ongoing evolution seems to describe a panoply of deities issuing forth from the single God of El or AL, morphing through His tortured transition to Yahweh, the God of Abraham, then on to the kinder and gentler God of Peter and Paul... shortly on to Allah and his Islam so as to retwist the thumbscrews as punishment, presumably, for the kinder and gentler... .
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..So to re-cap, the God of Mohammed... Judaism, Christianity, and Islam—father, son, and grandson... each remade, like I said, to suit the convenience of his most powerful proponent... sorry. That's the AlienView... all we are is all we are; it's stretched too thin and goes too far!
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See, if it "works for you," that's fine.  It's your insistence that it is also required to work for your neighbor is the intolerable rub.
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...And then it occurs to me—almost off the subject, so prepare to shift to a lower gear—that perhaps, initially, we make (or remake!) our bad-penny skeptibunkies the same way we make our lap-dog Gods—as a result of good "press," exclusively and regardless plus that raw convenience we've talked about! Consider the highly controversial Kal K. Korff, by way of example, as a good example of a bad example and known hereafter in this monologue as triple "K".
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"Deliberate Remanufacture" by a corrupted mainstream would seem to be the only thing allowing genus triple "K" to do what he does, et al, and that is to spring phoenix-like from the righteous ashes of being caught pretty damned foul vis a vis Art Bell in the not so dim past, then Kevin Randle later on, finally Paul Kimball most recently—certainly foul enough (one would have thought!) to preclude his inexplicably "honored" reemergence with such frequency subsequently! But not so.
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It's something that these "strangely favored" mainstream pundits can do with astonishing regularity.  I write about that process in the link provided below.
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Consider Gerald Posner of "JFK—Case Closed" as an additional example. Here's yet another shill for the corrupted status quo very scholarly discredited in Doctor Michael Parenti's History As Mystery, but Posner lives on... an effulgent example of other well rewarded *mainstream* lap-dogs... doges earning their chew-toys by keeping the rest of us off balance, dis-informed, or happily ignorant of the "true state of affairs."  I'm not the only one who feels this way...
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An expansive search in the UFO UpDate archives for the word "Korff" turns up a plethora of pieces in commentary gleaned from just =3= of 55 total pages of very illuminating contributions—from assorted persons—regarding our intrepid triple "K"... some 550 plus messages! That's quite a compilation of the less than efficacious on any researcher...
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The gist of these messages is tres uncomplimentary... Even "I" don't get that much offended vituperation [g]!
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...And yes!  Ordinarily, I'd be favorably attracted to such a wide-beamed notoriety, but then I remember the bunch for whom he fronts, CSI and purposefully dim-bulbed Klasskurtxia, and besides, triple "K" is wired in such a manner that he raises the hair on the back of my neck along with bile in my throat... view the archives referenced.
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The referenced posts are intelligently critical of triple "K" (on balance) and begin to outline an individual begging to have the whole skeptical program roundly re-criticized, unfavorably re-considered, and thoroughly re-discredited. But up, like a whack-a-mole "K" inexplicably pops, regardless!  I've chronicled this actuality before regarding others  ...UP they pop, again and again... Dr Reed, Shawn David Morton... David Jacobs. What's up with that!?!
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If it were me, or you, gentle reader, we would be sued, fined, secured to stocks, and otherwise solidly pilloried. We'd be tarred and feathered and run out of ufological town on a splintery rail. We'd be indelibly marked, publicly banished, and then professionally shunned. We'd lose our contracts, our book deals, and our professional standing, and we'd never be able to hold our heads up to be taken seriously again! Ever!
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...But, that merry band, including our spring-tailed triple "K" tiggers back up like a bad penny with apparently more Teflon per square inch than Ronald Reagan had on his slickest day! Rich Reynolds, the same, but I digress revoltingly ...
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Back at the UFO UpDates ranch.  The overpowering remainder of the posts on the first three pages of discussion were numerous self-promotions written by triple "K" himself, or they were written by a few contributors taking inappropriate (and unconvincing) pains to be evenhanded. There was but one woman writing a glowing (near worshipful) review for one of triple "K's" typical debunking screeds (as a totally disinterested party?), but that review appearing weeks before the book in question, reportedly, had been released anywhere in the world... This provides a decided pawl on that effusive sum-up!? Sock-puppet-much?  ...But that's another digression, albeit related and pregnant.
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I find that odd, at any rate. You might, too.
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Eventually, triple "K"—et sig al! Look at the recent reemergence of "Dr" (snort!) Jonathan Reed, alluded to above—getting another opportunity to rise up from his justifiable (and well earned) ashes to spread his shadow-making wings again. A "Triple 'K,' " with a dead alien in his freezer will be ever so chock full of revelations, exposés, and the bearer of many "startling" new accounts!
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Rich Reynolds is a similar creature, a bird dumping its fecal load and then flying again... followed by History teacher Dr. David Jacobs, from above, of soiled undergarment, chastity belt and toxic psychiatric suggestion fame.  How does he return from his embroglio, on par or worse than family values US Senator Larry Craig getting popped cruising for unprotected sex in large airport bathrooms and trying desperately to hang around to long....  How does one survive this flesh-crawling incredulous happenstance and keep the respect of the honoring majority.  I digress again...

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Consider that I predicted in February 20, 2002 that triple "K"would even tout himself eventually (however obliquely!) as a hero of "9-11", understand, if you can believe that (and—I—can't!), but Bingo! Too, reader, lately as a "Colonel" in a super, super-secret Israeli Intelligence outfit right out of the Avengers or GI Joe!  Astonishing pule-foolery in high density mawkishness!  Flesh-crawling shame in the observance of it.
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Just another nine-eleven knock-off making mileage on the backs of the silent sacrificed?  How pathetically egregious. See what I mean about the bile?
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I suspect that triple "K" and his adjacent cohorts might even appear like they're taking investigative steps bravely forward, but I fear that we are only going to discover eventually, as we all have in the entirely repetitious past, that they've slid us several steps unbravely back, surreptitiously, once again. You only have to remember triple "K's" porcine squealing on the Art Bell show (like Ned Beaty of Dickey's "Deliverance" fame?) to wonder, as I do, how he (et al) would (could!) ever come back, but they do.  They all do!
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How does that work? That's the real point with this essay... How is it that any of the persons like this, even more thoroughly discredited, always come back.  Triple "K" is a ready example, but there's a plethora of such... Sean David Morton is another as observed above... David Jacobs, also mentioned above, of instant-messages-containing- hypnotic-trances fame is of note, (Notta!) Dr. Jonathan Reed with his "alien in my Freezer"... ...oh you do need a score card.
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For more on this inexplicable re-emergence of faux-skeptical reductionists and flakey paranormalists the reader can visit:  http://ufoproletariat.blogspot.com/2012/10/ufos-in-particular.html
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None call it treason, but what do you call a betrayal of not just country, but all speciation down to the last critter walking, crawling, or stinking!  ...Even Reynolds, for a last digression.  I call it social treason.  Read on.

Restore John Ford!

Intention Makes So!

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I'm "unleashed." I'm running clear—admitting I was once in fear that I'd be found "too much to bear" and culled before I'd traveled "there." I've lost that dread; there're more *pots* cooking; things are brewing; future's looming! What's revealed in drabs and drips suggests, instead, a different trip!
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We are in ACCELERATION! We should start the CELEBRATION! Our consciousness (about to leap!) will split the sky! We'll soar and cleave!
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This is clear in what we sense "between the lines"—if we're not dense. If one is not distracted friend, and takes the time to look (...again?). That there must come some grand transition... some will find an imposition... though just a nervy, paltry few who live at most's expense, it's true.
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Though I digress from history we humans make such mystery. Change is clear; we'll have no lack. Look "up" and "out" and "in"... and "back"!
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Things were "simple" way back when, where *naught* had issued forth, pretend: it's "you are there" at "Time's" beginning, proto-matter gushing—spinning... white hot plasmas flash and glow... ...then hydrogen is born, you know? More Elements evolve at last to cook real slow back in our past...
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...Too, it's LONG before the complex chains of molecules make their exchange... for that which we've descended from—the pace? It's picking up! What fun!
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...Eons come and go, you see, as evolution makes her trees... these hunker down to do a job. They mix the ground and grok good sod. Then forest fauna run and frolic, gaining senses, passions—talents... beating out a path for those who must come after... So it goes...
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Then at last it comes to us, a thinking monkey one shan't trust, as ever faster "things" proceed, outstripping "faith's" corrupting seed!
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Just a SHORT time on this Earth, and humankind exceeds its worth? Holding to tradition's greed, fundies shortchange our whole breed! Arrogant to the extreme, these few invoke their selfish dream and make convenience for their own which proves their hearts were third rate stone.
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Their *illusion* hides from them accelerations HAPPENING, friend! We approach the speed of light! Then what happens? Change! That's right!
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Acceleration's exponential; novelty's preferred, essential! Otherwise there'd be no change from what had been, before, conveyed. Change is coming, fast and fleet! Paradigms evolve, tout suite! Tradition's made a cage, some use, to keep denial well infused.
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The future is upon us, now! Some would, just, ignore it... how? It's faster now, and by progression, it's quickening beyond expression!
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Everything will change, and soon. The time is nigh. We sense high noon. Then suns must set upon their ages... when they're finished... turn the pages... Comes that dawn and one must find... that they're reborn... a different kind! A newer level is achieved! An AlienView's what's now perceived!
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Length and breadth have grander values! Depth and height profoundly call you! Colors go beyond what's seen in nature's rainbow, presently!
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We are on the edge of that which evolution trims as fat. Polliwogs must lose their fins to have their leaping legs, my friend. Worms must spin cocoons of silk to gain the wings of flying ilk.  Human beings within their wombs are carved by Death we don't presume... see, we're in transition's ev-olution torquing up to rev-olution!
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Our cocoons are personal, our consciousness perpetual; too, we've no choice so must continue... this RENDEZVOUS perceived before you!


alienview@roadrunner.com
www.AlienView.net

It's going to happen regardless. One might as well enjoy it. It's the individual's call; though, this is forgetting it will be a lot stranger than the individual imagined...
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No! Not stranger than imagined! Stranger than it is presently possible to imagine! This is what is transmitted from the prescient "dead lips" of far seeing men and women who have already made that supposition and on whose shoulder's we must gratefully stand!  Perceive that farther horizon!
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This strangeness signifies, perhaps, that changes in scale—and even appreciation of that scale—will have us all slapping our foreheads in embarrassed recognition and provoked facepalms, ironically, at the approaching denouement. A cosmic "a-ha," at last, achieved. A chorus performed: "...Of course" we perceive!
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Most will be astonished. Some will be gratified. Too few will be surprised, not at all.
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Those who would return us to the fifties—and the hugely irrational who would return us to the even more horrific THIRTEEN-fifties— these will be the ones left on the crumbling shoulder of an outmoded, irrelevant, and otherwise outdated cultural highway, wondering why the seeming "rapture" missed them. That rapture passes on the fundies and sweeps up the psychedelic for the ultimate irony!  It remains these remain an obstacle to same.

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We're heading toward a huge spike in aggregate human potential at a rate increasing exponentially. That's what asymptotic means, sort of. This potential would be as the individual would wish it, moreover, assuming the individual's evenhandedness, humility, and tolerant good will. Likely that assumption making an ass of you and me, but still. Potential remains to be potential.
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Indeed, driven by a very real if inexplicable optimism, I suspect we'll all have the opportunity to make our own heavens like we would have them as a function of this asymptotic "spike." We will do this while knowing an individual autonomy, safety, and effectual magnitude never before experienced except by the very, very few for the short, short term. An airy fairy, but my intuition still.
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Everyone will have this autonomy, in comparison. Everyone will be empowered. Everyone will feel the aggregate monkey of back-stepping habit come off their mal-treated, misinformed, and manipulated backs (if they but will it!) to feel, gloriously, ten feet tall!
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Then?
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Then these "taller" people come together into *new* teams wielding an exponentially increased amount of personal power to contribute to the aggregate. This is "exponential increase" in the same fashion as the increase in cultural magnitude from Old Rome to the current 1st world!
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Then?
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Then an efficacious humanity will burst forth from habit's orbit like a sentient newborn star, burst forth to warm the seemingly endless potentials of this lonely sector of blackened backwater space... and beyond!
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Then?
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Then we'll mine the rings of Saturn and turn our systems asteroid belt into a jewel encrusted bracelet on the wrist of a constellation...
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Then?
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Then we'll explore alternate dimensions and refine them to dazzling creations in some new art of intellectually crafted satisfaction—well beyond the limitations present in its current expression or appreciation...
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Then?
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Then we'll meet God on her own terms and discover how wrong we were about EVERYTHING while embracing, at once, what *was* and what *will be* into the immutable and all encompassing *now* composing new music of an individual's quantum reality!
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Then?
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Then cooperation takes on a grander imperative than competition—a new immediacy! Each of us will be the center of the universe in a universe of many, many centers—just as we are now on a vastly smaller scale. Every woman her own Queen, every man his King... if we but will it.
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Intention makes things so.
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Why? Because God (the multi-verse) favors living novelty and eschews dead habit. It's as simple as that.  Mighty fores come to the aid of the brave!
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If the preceding were not true there would be no change in the rate of the universal transition from simple physical occurrences to complex physical occurrences... i.e. The big bang... a superheated and formless plasma for many billions of years is followed by star production for lesser billions of these years. Planet formations are measured in single digit billions, Ecosystems, their creation and evolution, are measured in fractions of a billion, and rudimentary intelligence forms in a mere fraction of that! Full blown sentience, self awareness, and an appreciation of time and space happens in the single snap of cold universal fingers... apparently.
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The reader may have sensed the acceleration attendant to an ageless cycling process of ongoing cosmic refinement, may have felt the sharp asymptotic elbow of documented measurement as humanity accelerates precipitously to this approaching concrescence steepening to an increasing verticality as you read these words.
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Reader!  You should feel the wind in your hair!
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This acceleration is so quick down on the business end of the continuum where we are, that its rate is even perceptible to the individuals—us—living there ... closest to this "spike" or "now" point. It'll get quicker.  It'll get quicker, yet!
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Additionally, people from the not too far distant past, looking forward to us (even as we are), would see a race of gods they would evolve into... not to put too fine a point on it. And this is before our transition past the conjectured "now" spike just before slipping beyond the event horizon of that indescribable concrescence... Looking forward to those of us that transition past the "spike," in that fashion that the ancients would look to us? What would we perceive?
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Whew! Enough! Sorry about this explosive gush of Utopian optimism! I feel like I've been channeling Terence McKenna. I don't know what came over me! My muse was insistent—would not be denied! The spirit was, in fact, upon me as I wrote this, largely in one sitting... I won't apologize for the expression. I'll write what I write as I write it.
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But as for me? I'd aspire to that point described and make my own "rapture." This seems to get more possible each day. Can't you feel it?
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No matter, if you can't. I'll feel it enough for both of us. [g].
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Read on!