- 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
- 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. http://www.fortunecity.com/roswell/arecibo/46/
**<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.