Tag Archives: Non-Fiction

An alternative theory to the ‘Chilean UFO’ controversy and commentary on the recent video from NY Times

Piqued by the recent NY Times article I did a little digging to find any other allegedly ‘real’ videos of UFO’s or UAP’s. That’s how I discovered the video recorded by the Chilean Navy of a UAP who claim they studied it for two years and came up totally inconclusive. I found it to be awfully tantalising at first until I read this sources analysis who claim it’s just a couple contrails from two different planes and that the CEFAA have released a hoax video in their past. Nowhere in any of these articles or comments do I see anyone mentioning what I think this had to have been so here I am drinking coffee tapping away. 

Cloud seeding (a wall of links):

en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cloud_seeding

weathermodification.org/publications/index.php/JWM/article/viewArticle/68

freshfruitportal.com/news/2012/02/08/chilean-govt-approves-cloud-seeding-to-ease-drought/

weatherpeace.blogspot.com/2013/08/silver-iodide-case-against-cloud-seeding.html?m=1

m.phys.org/news/2013-06-thirds-chile-desertification.html

theeventchronicle.com/geoengineering/inventor-of-cloud-seeding-created-weather-weapons-of-war/

www.edisontechcenter.org/IrvingLangmuir.html

theatlantic.com/science/archive/2017/09/weather-wars-cloud-seeding/538392/

bismarcktribune.com/news/state-and-regional/drought-heightens-controversy-over-cloud-seeding/article_98ede583-96db-5ebb-8899-682b58538889.html

m.phys.org/news/2016-06-science-cloud-seeding.html

Is it possible that the CEFAA were simply never informed of the arguably useless cloud seeding program in their country during their entire two years of ‘research’? Could it be that they wanted to put a spin to the public on their failed efforts of modifying the weather in favor of their desertifying drought? Food for thought.

Now let’s talk about the recent video published by NY Times from To The Stars Academy of Arts and Science. It is initially very compelling when taken at face value. You see a glowing UAP rotating as if straight out of Halo or something before zooming off at “unprecedented speed”. One pilot claims over the intercom there’s a whole fleet—which reminded me of Gary McKinnen’s claims from fifteen years ago. Wow—it’s easy to think—they’re here, and they’re even closer than I thought!

Then reality starts to set in. It’s hard not to be skeptical. Various governments and other private groups’ track record for false flags is unsettling alone as it is and produces a ‘boy who cried wolf’ effect. The details behind the so called academy run by Blink-182’s ex front man Tom DeLonge are shady and I can’t help but feel mildly poisoned by his obsession with John Podesta. We’re at a point just in this past year alone that artificial intelligence is starting to be able to create and alter media us humans can no longer discern between fact and fiction. They claim the video is 100% real and unedited which I have no way of verifying myself. It could very well be. The implications of that would be monumental indeed. It could mean that we are being visited and surveiled within our atmosphere and not just like the potentially DNA-less ‘fireflies’ that might feed off of electromagnetic energy living in outer space as seen by John Glenn and others. My father even claims to have seen a swarm similar as a kid with his friends at night in the backwoods of Maine. It could mean that an alien drone had once visited us Roswell-style crash landed or was shot down and the technology was reverse engineered which is now being utilized covertly. It could also be someone is testing and has mastered a form of zero point energy finally as patented by Jovion and tested by NASA with the Casimir effect. The surfacing of the video could be seen as a prelude to the public that the tech is here and wants to be openly utilized by the powers at be which in turn would have positive effects on our world as we spiral away into another mass extinction and seek to expand our germlike reach outward toward the stars with rockets, sails and lasers. That is—of course—if they let us use it at all before someone else figures it out on their own, uploads the plans to the Pirate Bay, and we can all start 3D printing them at home with a ghost gunner and pieces of alloy.

Let’s consider the flipside and the possibility that the video is a pure fabrication of either CGI, AI, or both, and it’s just so advanced that it’s impossible to tell it never really happened. The pilots would both be in on it then and a whole slew of others. Creating and orchestrating its release could be used as a massive distraction away from the trillions spent on the non-stop pillaging of regime-changing wars and the continued implementations of forms of austerity and oppression. It could be a jingoistic way to unite the masses in favor of their government—a new form of nationalism—and for Tom to rack in on investors for his next nineteen steps.  It could be used as a way to say Here’s your disclosure! while never actually revealing the truth. It could all be just a grand social experiment and social media is sucking up the data like a wormhole of teeming leeches. I’ll toss these words down the pith of suckling mouths.

How are we to really know what exactly is going on from such a short and grainy clip?

As a believer in panspermia and no stranger to encounters with various forms of ETI embedded within us all even I find myself very cautious in regards to coming to any conclusions from this recent video. We need more information for this to be the smoking gun, or the incontrovertible proof of advanced aliens coexisting here locally with us and not just utilizing the non-locality of the quantum mind, or DNA itself, to give us little gifts and messages when our eyes drift over to the other side. 

—Pseudonymous, 121817

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Apricots & acorns

I can’t hit
the notes
when my throat
does that thing
I can’t hit
the notes
they’re just
so good
I’ve got somethin’
in me gotta get it out
I’ve got somethin’
in me gotta get it out
gotta get it out
don’t uproot me
again—nothing
looks familiar 
don’t uproot me
until it’s time
to go—I’ll go
I’ve got somethin’
in me like an apricot
I’ve got somethin’
in me like an apricot
an apricot
in my clenched fists
bursting running
down my arms
in my clenched fists
bursting running
down my neck
two pits to be planted
in the dirt
before the mountain
freezes in December
someday
when all the pines have died
we’ll still have apricots
& acorns
we’ll still have apricots
& acorns
X




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Dicks & drugs

You can have
a hard dick
or a slurred tongue
but you can’t have both

Or hey what do I know
maybe you can
I knew a dealer
in New York
who had little blue pills

There’s actually something
I’ve never done
his neighbor told me
it fucked with his head
they both looked at each other
nodded & agreed

He had a couple pit bulls
they were lounging beside him
with their tongues out
as he smiled reminiscing
the fond moment
he was fucking this chick
& put her head thru a wall
verbatim

I could write tragedies
about some that I’ve met
back before there was Weedmaps
when gangster wannabe’s
stood between me
& some moldy catpiss that
hardly took the edge off

But I won’t—

A cock is not just
for playful pummeling & painting
piss murals on everything
a cock is like a barometer
a cock gives you a choice

                 Someday I predict
                 I won’t care as much
                 if I make it another thirty years
                 come smoke me out with sap
                 on the side of the trail
                 on a sunny day
I’ll have had so many
thousands of deafening orgasms
by then—tens of thousands—
it will all seem like one
about to happen

                   







.

To know the toxic truth 

I need to show us as lab rats—


Who would see their hands as we jumped—

never know—


We were other


Retrace their home—

we tattooed ourselves—

we dead—

we tattooed a while surrounderstanding—


          chomple of the bus stop speakerbox

disconnect neon highlighter


We knew then as we pondered if it was the way—

the both right blue

                        that half the wall—

it didn’t need to spew lava

but you though

others corrupted up against my bare chest

it’s six



 peel your name

              lake


                                                         A girl lost the fire

burning glass


                                  the door open window with a mountain lion— we

                                         them

in a different 

                                            that’s dead—

we cancer of highlights . .


Words that too will be

vested—

extractal

gently into nowhere

                                            dries up

everyone out

& do the sewer that no longer means—

we evaporated

while we rested—


We were back seat of the sat still—


Prefabricated to be made

she closes her pink tentacles coiling under the back

                                                      no one knows but could go

like misterioso being in the white hot metal

gently into their eyes and slaves—

we ride

she said Where to?

melting lost in the grimy gutter

into my voice

sawing carved notches 

her clit beneath the bed intravenously—

we wall—

we never keep inside 

this nothinner

like could have an arrow

with a flag pole

pink as a ponderosa

the boxes of my head looking for us—


They tricks on you

    plunging

     they were once skin—

ever against my bare cruising 

under the wings of clay—


We forest— never to wear mask on the road


you thought refuge

under to see themselves tween

                                   I’m in half then as you


How many will be

vested in their frigid body

naked on the boys

to a memory

            cold

to the ride


 peel your river playing

our finger wait

at the cold

         the ground—


Nothing nowhere to?





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The inbetweens

Light a candle
Put a stop to them
Put a stop to them
Put a stop to them
I like to sit
Watching plants grow
From a window
Scrolling down
Down
Down
But it lags
It lags
It lags
It lags
& I know
Somewhere inbetween the I
And these requests you sit
Collecting
& I muse
Do you feel a pang rewarded
Like I do
Like I do
Do you
It’s sticky
Like a web
Like the cum
On your hands
Little humps
On the top of tinted SUV’s
Watching screens
Watching screens
Watching screens
It doesn’t matter
We’re the inbetweens
The inbetweens
The inbetweens


Sometimes I think about Oroville

Like a tweaker panning for gold
in the dead drought dessicated crick like a slot machine about to give way

Like the white cessna stingray
in May failing at low altitudes
at seven in the morning

Like a gang of deadeyed palepasty zombie kids
twitchpicking their way thru
a market that doesn’t give a fuck

Like the nine gram rule
that kept everyone out
and everything in

Like using a helicopter
to pinpoint where to falsify
your thousandth anonymous complaint

Like packs of water bottles lined up
several hundred yards away
who knows how many rounds of .308

Like two dudes getting a handy in an old Chevy
by a tweakjawed crackwhore between them by the tracks

Like how they always wondered if it was Sour Diesel
& one of their corrupt colleagues got caught
moving packs back east

Like that real raw look on their face
everyone has from the brutal heat beating down
through the toxic valley air

Like winning 10k at the casino
getting drunk and dying crashing into a river on your way home
the cash floating downstream



Round house

I used to love
to kick things
as hard as I could
like people
on the side of their heads
if they didn’t move
I remember the feelings
of taking a foot to the face
the pain shock & humility
the deafening pressure—the ringing
to destroy between a helmet and a chest piece
the barriers between us—the rules governing
our moves but not our emotions—
I’m reminded of this at the hip
with every step I take
toward my grave


Gem

The first time we met
dirtyblonde curlyhaired locks
with the widest ocean blue eyes
I may have ever seen just beaming
childlike and heavy

You chainsmoked camels
like you were nervous, excited,
or just happy to be talking art
which was plastered all over every inch of your walls & ceiling

The passion was there but the style & mastery
had yet to be developed—

You were from Jersey and couldn’t say orange,
always looking like a fairy with your thrift store dresses & jewelry—wearing daisys in your hair—you would giggle like a jitterbug at everything and it was contagious—we loved you for it—except maybe some of the other girls

It was just who you were—I remember you took a class
on how to weave baskets with a bunch of old ladies—it was a dying art soon to be forgotten you said—
we’d drive to the beach or chug wine out on the kayaks on the Manatee just shooting the shit watching the sunsets looking for the green flash—
I’d see you on rollerskates at Sonic smoking blunts in the back
waiting to get off so we could listen to the Pixies
& smoke more blunts or sometimes floral smelling goo—

We didn’t know what we were doing
you said you saw circus bears sorta dancing in the ceiling
and I’d really never seen anything more
than a cloudy veil of flowing golden faces at that point

I was never really attracted to you either 
but we fucked one night when we were drunk anyway just for the hell of it—
pissed your ex off when he found out—my friend at the time—you must have told him deliberately—he told us
we didnt know what we wanted, hell, he was right

You would talk about your family problems
and although it seemed kinda shitty we didn’t know
just how bad it was for you—you befriended Gypsy
this old crackhead in the jungle behind kmart who used you to get her things yet you adored her for a while

I’d been gone five years off and on since then
when you visited Amber and I in Santa Cruz during your road trip across the states
the jealous cunt hated you for being an old female friend
and I hated her for that at the mexican restaurant
where we both began to realize the dude that you were with
was a bit of a wingnut
you wanted to camp in a park
I asked if you were ok or needed a place to stay
you said you were maybe going to Mexico with him
and I sometimes almost hate myself for letting you go 
but what the fuck was I supposed to do?
Yo
u went to Ireland and hung out with a bunch of old dudes for a while you said—I could see it on your facebook—which I never did—not that I didn’t want to

Like a year after I got a call on my phone late one night
still with a Florida number after all those years
I would change it not long after
But it was my brother—not really—who
I’d not seen in forever having gotten lost among the hedgewalls of my life closing in on me again—
he said he’d been trying every combination of numbers until it worked for an hour not even knowing if it would be the same—he was out of his mind—said he knew she was crazy, but not that crazy, you know? 

Shitfaced & alone sitting in the upstairs attic-loft of my shack in Scott’s Valley with a Sierra Nevada and a spliff is how I found out you left your car burning on that bridge—I miss you, I wish, and I wonder all the time


Brittany

You were the tallest girl I ever fucked—
that alone stands out to me thinking back
among the sea of deviance like a peak in the waves

You must have been my height
or just slightly shorter—I think we even
did a side by side just to see back to back

I remember those legs
but I can’t remember your face now
other than the way I would catch you staring at me from across the room

There at someones party with your semidwarfed boyfriend
in Sarasota from outta town—Tallahassee maybe,
you guys seemed so close

I don’t know why then our hands found
their way into each others
while he was supposedly passed out right beside us—

There was no stopping it at that point—
we were too young or something—too magnetic—
nothing else in the world had any meaning left—

We had been born to find each other
sought out of height—out of hair—
out of the ringing in our hands down into your soaked booty
shorts

I had to taste it—
and soon my cock growing into belonging down in your throat
was no longer enough—

To fuck wildly trying to be quiet
he didnt even move
or make a sound pulling your black wavy hair back
my hand over your mouth in the dark smell of unpeeling
—I remember
loving distinctly how much of you there was—
the same reason we’ll probably be gone
from this world before everyone else—

You told me you’d let me do anything to you
and of course that was a total lie
but it sounded good outside at 4am on the grass beneath the willow—

How were we supposed to know
Rachel’s nana made her the blanket
we desecrated into the dirt with our mad hazy starlit ritual

You told me you loved him but that you needed me—when I came inside you pulled me in as tight as you could—I slept on my own on the couch & saw your myspace three months later still together