The Skies Admit Their Truth
By Alfred Lehmberg <>

Bottom line? You're unconvincing, authoritarian, and non thinking. What you call your bearing facts ASSUMES your views are valid, Jack, and assumptions are what they WOULD be -- an ass that's made of you and me. Your "proclamation with a sneer" betrays the tap root of your fear, that non-admitted holes abound within the walls you've built unsound. Walls unsound by inculcation churn elitist infestation, and we're distracted from our wounds that you discount and would impugn. Conspiracy's a living monster you would hide or call imposter, but if power and control are there, then there are those who TAKE that dare.
I'm not your strict *believer*, friend, and I won't pay that freight -- comprende'? But I won't buy what YOU sell, either -- it stinks of fish. I need a breather. You would argue tick turds gladly, spin the facts to dervish madly -- convince us all that what we're seeing CANNOT be what we're believing. There is *more* than what you offer, volunteer, propose or proffer, and I must call your smirking bluff. I'm quite fed up. I've had enough. You don't make the slightest dent in what I'm thinking we could spend to do the work and NOT pretend, but YOU won't even LOOK my *friend*.
You're quick with whistled catcalls, hooting, haughty smirks or "cheap shot" shooting -- Webs of non support you weave so most won't know what they believe. It's you that keeps the lie alive, you fake the truth you have contrived, and you have strained a stained credulity casting your aspersions (..!.) -- truly! A living lie is what you use to keep an edge that you abuse -- and all to keep us on your meter, paying taxes. You foul creature!
Frankly, you're a shameful boor, a cad that should be shone ones door. You embarrass education, reproductionist's infestation -- you won't call a spade a spade; we live within the lies you've made. You sell a soulless, useless brew of sharp derision -- sad excuse. And what does obfuscation do but compliment your glad abuse. All your aims are systematic, inculcated -- autocratic, and status quo is what you'd have to keep *your* pleasures close at hand.
Consider Gingrinch bopping pages, while critiquing Clinton's graces. *Mourning* "death of all morality", he slides it IN for them you see. It's YOU, like this, with UFO's. You KNOW that something flies and glows, yet you find *ways* -- pretend it's final . . . blow your smoke and make denials. Interpret facts as you would have them, proclaim some *facts* to keep us guessing -- add your tiny bit of truth to sell agendas that you use.
Soon, it is, that you're found out, and then we'll see what you're about. We will find what you have hidden -- take Tesla out of his derision, read the books that Sitchin writes as text books that just might be right. We would open hanger doors, we would search you're *hallowed* floors, we would see what's been so secret, you've abused your privilege -- SEE it! We would open wide the shades that keep us stupid, scared -- betrayed. We'd expose those unelected scabrous thugs now undetected -- living more fulfilling lives we'd soar and cleave from what's despised.
You will come to know you're through, your time run out and leaving you to stew in juices you once used to further what you have construed. I'm glad to say you'll suffer shame, and more when you avoid your blame. Plain it is you better start (to break it loose) or come apart. Do it now, you filthy wealthy, aging *bad* news makes you guilty. Come clean now and save yourself the slings of *fortune* talked about. I'm betting you'll procrastinate, and do too little much too late. There's little hope you see some light, and do your part to put things right; so I await for your glad demise, and watch our starry, starry skies. They, at least, admit some truth: that time and space are monstrous, HUGE, and all that you imagine happens -- plus the stuff you won't . . . imagine.
You know who you are.
Restore John Ford. ~~Ö~~ EXPLORE Alfred Lehmberg's Alien View" at his Fortunecity URL. **<Updated 18 December**
"I cleave the heavens, and soar to the infinite. What others see from afar, I leave far behind me." - Giordano Bruno, burned at the fundamentalist's stake.


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