- PART I
- ~<(Ö)~ Apology to MW #320 (For October 9, 1999)
- I don't believe _in_ UFO's, and I'm not splitting hairs,
but *something* haunts the skies above, and shames us well down here. And
not just now, but way back *when* 'twas flight was just a dream. Yes, well
before the pyramids that began it all, it seems. Back before we sailed
our seas we prayed to brutal gods -- gods as thick as errant fleas to give
that needed nod. Back before, when just a few, we wandered plains in bands
askew, and we were *almost* innocent then, an uncorrupted kith and kin.
Back before we wrote in books, we scratched cave walls with paint and soot,
and we recorded saucers, flying, (scaring the observers spying) -- pulsing
inner lights in waves that we, then, chipped in stone, OK?
- Kings of fearful ancient times would see them hover there,
and scurry to their *high* priests, their witchdoctors, and sayers. Pharos
of old Egypt ran, and raised up armies that would stand in fearful awe
of flying craft that, silent (days long!) flew on past! They could, even,
smell their odors -- alien and acrid motors! This was taken down (but hidden)
by a man of some *religion*, but the papyrus is real and good translation's
solid seal. I say this and forget the Bible -- how all its stories make
it libel as a record of abduction, UFO's and piqued destruction!
- Consider Alexander as he strides his *conquered* planet,
as he crosses raging rivers to secure a grip upon it. His elephants and
horses and, yes, most of all his men were panicked by two UFO's that _dove_
upon them, friend. They drove them from their crossing (why?) these craft
that sailed air; they flew like massive birds of prey that owned the sky
up there. Described as silver shields spitting fire to the ground, they
danced and burned and threatened, but they did not make a sound. Squealing
like Ned Beatty, and (yes!) scared beyond his wits, Alexander *wrote* it
down, so we'd _remember_ it.
- And sober (pre-Christ) Romans were observers, then, as
well. Of skies, well nigh, INFESTED are the tales they would tell. Spectacles
of "fleets of ships" would course through troubled skies, they
wrote it down as point of fact, and not as *charming* lies. They would
HEAR terrific noises, and the sky would turn to gold. Men and women trembled
like they all had gotten cold. Globes of fire fell to Earth and landed
on the ground. Taking off they'd go straight up and flash their lights
around. Described as brighter than the sun, these terrified plain folks
(who'd run) to hapless priests or scared officials who'd write it down,
and sign initials. Pliny wrote of burning shields that danced across his
eye, annealed. Others wrote of missiles, then, that roared and soared their
- The birth of Christ won't cure the air of errant flying
craft. Josephus wrote of phantom ships, and no one thinks he's daft. Respected
as a scholar, and revered as circumspect, he wrote of flying chariots,
and of beings WITHIN them yet! He wrote of armies of them that would course
their way through clouds! He wrote "surrounded cities" so there
really is no doubt. He wrote that all this happened in fullest light of
day -- he wrote of frightened peoples who went down on knees to pray. This
wasn't science fiction, but was well beyond his scope. He wrote it as he
saw it. All agree that he's no dope.
- The Byzantine were not immune to unknown *flying* craft,
they wrote of ships called brilliant, more like burning globes -- as fast.
They hovered over cities (!), and presented beamslike swords; folks looked
up and cringed in fear for judgement of those lords! Nobles watched the
pagans as the dark age was to end, and reddish brown in color flying saucers
flew again! They hovered over churches, and they scared the people blind
who ran in "bug" confusion from the castles if outside. They
had never seen the like! They cowered in their awe. They survived and wrote
it down. It sticks, yes (!), in your craw.
- And what is seminal history, but Saint Gregory of Tours
who reported on one Alcuin, a biographer of stars. Charlemagne's assaulted
by a light-fast glowing globe! It flickers inexplicably like a psychedelic
strobe! It's so damned strange it spooks his horse, which rears in the
attack. Charlemagne, in armor, is then thrown right off its back. This
injures him severely; he's dead in four more years, and kingdoms fall to
ruin as the Vikings bring their cheer.
- The Japanese saw their fair share and they will not be
excluded. Yoritsumi saw the "flying lights" and here will be
included. Yoritsumi was a general with his army in the field, and he saw
them loop their circles in the sky like hurled shields. They swung all
night to morning light and then some hours still, so he, then, asked his
*wise* men who would shuck _their_ jive and shill, "Be unconcerned,
most gracious lord. Let smiles adjourn your frown -- it's a typhoon, heaving
mightily, to blow the stars around."
- This takes us from -- "way back" BC . . . to
about the thirteenth century. There's more to say another day -- eight
hundred years of saucers -- hey! Forgetting tablets Sitchin translates,
UFO's remain debated. History's a smoking gun that people did _not_ write
for *fun*. It was, then, too damned expensive; they only wrote what common
sense was. Written in the words they had in concepts they could understand,
they wrote that we are _not_ alone, and wrote that down in ink and stone!
- No. I don't believe in UFO's. I believe UFO's. The difference
is NOT that subtle. And what is there not to believe. Seriously -- it crawls
all over the written record, and yet collectively we continue to laugh
inappropriately up our damp sleeves.
- Why? We can't let it disturb our future plans? Rofl!
- And, what is it but our belief in a phony-baloney, and
likely unjust, *future* ((awarded to us if we stay our *profitable* but
world sodomizing course)) that allows the shimmering scales of a court
jester ufology to be glued to our hapless eyes in the first place? Yeah!
Phony -- baloney!
- The conservative establishment smirks and continues to
celebrate a conservatism that is born out of the *satisfactions* it has
discovered in having *things* remain just as they ARE. Further -- it is
an establishment that recently finds itself needing to demonstrate some
reinvention as a *compassionate* party, proof of it's sociopathy! That
future that we hope for (and that they promise) is a red herring (for a
carrot) on the end of their long stick. And even IT evaporates (as a red
herring is wont to do) the moment they feel they HAVE to have another platinum
fixture on the downstairs bidet of their autumn home. In a contrived and
manipulated denouement that too few are availing themselves of -- these
few are very comfortable indeed. We are embroiled in a gigantic and pyramidal
ponsi-scheme for a sociopathic minority. This corrosive minority believes
that they will be able to insulate themselves from the very worst, FORGETTING
they are in a position to elevate the whole to truly cosmic levels. Free
power, as example, has such a *problem* NOT because there is nothing to
it. Rather, a huge amount of old (and new) money feels it has a lot *invested*
in the early, fossil, twentieth century concepts presently employed. Energy
problems in this country could be eliminated with an _incentive_ to generate
power and supply it to a grid, presently, enslaving us, but I digress.
<puff -- puff . . . deep breath <g.
- This group (of the, ah, uh -- . . . conservatively minded)
is the same bunch that fills the trough for our news media and mainstream
science impetus. It is also the major proponent of a campaign to keep ufology
in the under-funded-court-jester status it presently occupies. UFO's suggest
change -- this is a change that may not be compatible with the present
ease of luxury and control now enjoyed by selected persons presently disrespecting
your individuality and quality of life. How much control do you have?
- No, we hang by threads. At the complete whim of the arbitrary,
we are song and danced by a cloying appeal to tradition and ceremony. These
traditions of Aristotle, and these ceremonies of elitist convenience do
nothing but beg the inevitable question; however, a question largely unanswered
but for a smirking retort that maintains a status quo leading to an increasingly
exclusionary and suicidal dead end.
- Somebody knows.
- UFO's are, by definition, change, and point to worlds
with much more breadth and scope -- potential and expansiveness. It gets
no easier to maintain a façade of normalcy for the smirking denial
of these few, so fearlessly -- ask your own questions though the answers
(or the suggestions of answers) offend you, shock you, or shame you. There
is joy beyond the shame, satisfaction beyond the shock, and fellowship
beyond the offense.
- And it's real.
- Restore John Ford!
- PART II
- UFO's are history. They're non-admission's misery . .
. as *airships* span the mists of time -- that I would paint with words
in rhyme. Our dissonance, transparent -- plain, confounds the issue that
remains . . . that we are NOT alone at last, in present time OR in the
past! Written down, but then ignored, it didn't *square*, and was deplored.
Folk from space might do to US what *we* had done -- we're scared, nonplussed!
The *plans* of some would be derailed if we but copped to where we've failed.
We have closed our misled minds to what has filled our ancient eyes --
visions of a cosmic texture far beyond mere droll conjecture. What follows
is the record (written!) -- words THEY used as they were smitten with a
terror they beheld . . . without its like or parallel.
- Matthew writes, as we begin, of stars like torches (bright
and dim) that move around the sky with purpose. He wrote it down. It made
him nervous. "The air was clear, serene, and shining." Lights
within it coasted -- blinding! He described in words he knew -- what flew
that day was strange and new. A few years later, about 1250, Matthew writes
again -- it's gifted. A ship appears, "well shaped" he wrote,
in color that would catch the throat. It floated in the night time sky;
the monks all saw -- it CAUGHT their eye.
- William writes at century's end, a "discus"
thrown by giant men would fly across his abbey's spire, flashing silver
-- fear inspired. "Utmost terror" was described, "flat and
round" it ruled the sky. Honest William -- just like us, but buried
back in timeless dust? Did he see what some have seen, beyond the need
or call for dreams?
- Robert writes, as time goes on, of "fire pillars"
flying 'round -- "livid color" painting clouds -- the *pillar*
lofting . . . grand and proud . . . crimson flames would issue forth, and
flashing beams like "swords," it coursed. It crossed the heavens
"slow and grave", and North it flew like skies were paved! Now,
what would soar at speeds like that? He swore it truth -- and that was
- "In fourteen hundred and ninety-two Columbus sails"
his "ocean blue". We're not told that he's a skunk; if greed
was beer than he was drunk. If avarice was not his suit than Jesus NEVER
told the truth. But he was seeing pulsing lights -- "at great distance",
"glimmering," bright! They'd vanish and then reappear -- "move
up and down"; it WAS quite queer. Another witness, Pedro, deems they'd
fly in "sudden passing gleams." This from the deck of the Santa
Maria, which lands in few hours to cap the idea!
- 1528 comes 'round: a fight in Utrecht most profound --
a meeting with continued fate as we wade time and list strange dates. A
golden "X" invades the sky, and overhead it coasts on by. The
battle stops to watch it go; some take it as a "sign", but no
-- it travels past without a care to humans fighting . . . on . . . down
there. In 1554 in France, at night without a moon to dance, "emitting
[some] great noise it seems." A "sky-born lance" that flew
was seen. It flopped around from side to side; it cast out flames in truth
they cried. From East to West -- traversing stars, a meteor (?), or men
- Evelyn was writing, see (?), (in sixteen hundred and
forty-three) that Englishmen were NOT immune from "sightings"
we cannot impugn. "[I'll] not forget," he writes in awe, "[what
men perceived and women saw] -- a "shining cloud was in the air,"
and like a sword it hovered there. "[It pointed North for all to see,
and brighter than the moon would be]". It floated there, two hours
long, then vanished as he wrote its song.
- An English *Fellow* walked his park in idle contemplation,
hark -- middle 18th century, a time when most would scar their knees .
. . Some *construction* cleared his roof and rose in to the sky, aloof.
Lofting over trees so grandly, north by east above his lowlands. In view,
for but a half a mile -- he saw its "framework" all the while,
and watched it burn a bright light flame that bent the way a "curl"
is named. The thing was big, four fingers long; he gaped in awe; it flew
along. It burned a bit like blown on charcoal, then disappeared within
- In the *States* about this time, the Natives told us
cosmic rhymes -- about a *star folk* coming down and landing on the Earth!
Profound! Not like men, they glowed with light and married into what they
might. They found the earthly women fair, and mixed their blood with them
-- it's there. They'd machines that they would use to move from up above,
foot loose. Who's to say what happened where. Don't write it off as myth!
- It's time to stop with more to tell. We'll save it for
another spell. But don't pretend you KNOW the truth. Don't trust the "man"
to fix this *roof*. The lights we see were always seen. This isn't legends,
myths, or dreams. We just choose to look away from what our record has
to say. They've been here, we're not alone; it just may BE this ain't our
home. . . . .That we're mere tenants, at the whim, of those that came here
-- way back when!
- There's nothing real to debunk <g but our aggregate
lack of consciousness, and well tended cognitive dissonance. This is despite
any rabid misdirection at my use of a language that is the just another
box of paint to me, communicates what is meant to be communicated, and
does it at a 99.9 degree of efficiency and efficacy. The emphasis and intensity
of a misdirecting obsessive coterie regarding said use says more about
that coterie than me. I'll make the occasional error. Get over it. Besides
-- it's not really what we're talking about is it? This gets hard to remember
in a heady (but empty) atmosphere of crossed t's and dotted i's.
- "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.