Monkey This Up, Monkey This Down, But Monkey It

Now monkeys?  Just when I was actually understanding why radio stations seldom, if ever, play Ray Stevens' song, Ahab the Arab, along comes this from Florida Rep. Ron DeSantis, who threw the words, "monkey this up" into a speech and ticked off swarms of those who were born specifically to be ticked off, apparently having no other reason to live.  So what, I should get the scissors and excise monkey from my Webster's Dictionary?  Nobody raised such concern when the Internet was running cartoons of George W. Bush as an ape, you may recall.

The game, the game, the game -- thanks, digital megalosaurus:  One 24 year old sorry loser and homicidal/suicidal psycho stacked up against a whole world of young people whose brains have literally been moth-eaten by a constant computer screen-fed "revolution" just doesn't seem like much when one acts like an adult and gazes upon the whole idiotic world of pixels, ones and zeros.  Further evidence of how computers have made and will make our human lives more complicated, mentally unbalanced and, as a society, useless.  The late Mr. Katz, for all the information coming to light painting him as a brain wreck from the get-go, was apparently as rabidly dedicated to trading away his experiences in the real world for the land of pure fantasy as other "new normal" gamers -- except he finally swept away what remained of an ability to reason and made a terrible choice, momentarily bringing the presumed competition into his world for the kill.  Game over.

As a Vietnam Era veteran, I honor Senator John McCain for his service and remain in awe of the trauma and sacrifice he experienced as an American Navy combat pilot turned prisoner of war.  His politics were often another matter for me, but that's the thing about being an American like McCain, one person can become far more than merely one person.

NY Senator Charles Schumer's move to try and rename the Sen. Richard Russell building in Washington, D.C. after McCain reminded me immediately of Russell's semi-famous encounter with a UFO during a plane flight, reported back in the fifties by aviation writer Tom Towers, who played the role of Al Chop in the movie, "U.F.O." The Russell article can be found online, and Towers' ultra-brief movie career may, of course, be located in my "U.F.O." movie blog (see link list).

Long as we're throwing out senators' names, why is Diane Feinstein getting off scot-free after revelations surfaced about her long-time Chinese chauffeur / spy/ spy /spy?  This woman serves on the senate intelligence committee?  Ha, some intelligence from this one.  I know I have a few readers in China -- probably every one a government operative -- and I have to say, congrats, brilliantly played!  If only your Chinese communist masters weren't so dangerous to the world, my country and people seeking freedom everywhere, maybe I could manage a little applause.  But I can't.  World domination just isn't my thing.

Wha. . .?  So allegedly Chinese operatives were allegedly tracking Queen Hillary in alleged real time as she allegedly typed out messages on her allegedly infamous home computer keyboard, whilst simultaneously receiving e-mails from others, also under alleged real-time scrutiny?  Oh my, this will not make the mainstream press, if accurate.

Glyphosate for the masses:  It's not just computer screen or gaming hypnosis attacking children's health.  Updated research (with the assistance of some hefty lawsuits) has determined that high amounts of glyphosate, the controversial herbicide in the product, Roundup has been discovered in a disturbing number of cereals and granola bars, and this includes what some folks believed were the safest oat product brands in the world.  Yes, Quaker is among them.  All of this can be quantified in online news articles.  Here you go kids, have a nice bowl of poisoned grains and it's off to school with ya. . .

"Democratic socialism" seem to be quite popular among young people who have no clue about socialism's horrors.  Members of the far left are doing a fair job sugar-coating their words, but fortunately morons such as a congressional candidate from NY City are exposing themselves every time they speak.  One just needs to listen to words unspoken.

What's that new mysterious Russian satellite orbiting Earth?  Nobody seems to know, at least not publicly.  We suspect in our ignorance that "satellite killers" are becoming all the rage in space among the usual perpetrators of evil, and we trust that the U.S. will counter these maneuvers -- if only we can stop leaks from military agencies and vendors.

Meanwhile, U.S. intelligence officials have ramped up concerns over cyber warfare, warning of dangers focused upon our delicate national infrastructure. 

Combine that with the emergence of "superbugs," pretty much immune to a bevy of antibiotics, and one just wants to ask, what's next?

Back Soon, Don't Panic

So many things consumed my valuable (joke word) time this weekend that writing a blog entry became impossible.  I'll be back in a few days, and until then please spend time contemplating, now knowing everything you know, exactly why you still plan to vote Democrat in November (hating Trump is not a reason).  Meantime, here's a photo from the final day of the last DNC convention, I think.  Could be wrong.

Worst Fishing Experience Ever

One of the perks for an aging crackpot who spent a considerable number of years exploring the UFO issue is society's expectation that he'll be stubbornly set in his odd ways, staunchly dedicated to standing by outlandish opinions, no matter what. 

Not quite accurate -- but that's how I feel about the Pascagoula UFO abduction incident, highly impressed and willing to suggest, oh my god, put all the other abduction reports aside and concentrate on whatever may have happened to Charles Hickson and Calvin Parker in the late afternoon of October 11, 1973 as they anticipated a little quiet time, fishing on the Pascagoula River in Mississippi.  Should the story be accurate, the only catch of the day was two fishermen abducted and physically examined by entities that emerged from a craft dropping in from the sky.

In the pages of this blog, several times over the years, we've discussed with deep respect the Pascagoula case (check out the search engine on this page), and details of the incident abound on the Internet, so I'm not going to rehash what's already been rehashed to death.

What IS new is a missing piece to the Pascagoula puzzle in the form of an unexpected but very welcome book written by Calvin Parker himself.  Entitled, Pascagoula:  The Closest Encounter, My Story, is a book that needed to be written, particularly because while Charlie Hickson was alive he wrote of the incident himself and gave multiple interviews, while Calvin Parker ran from publicity and spent years trying to get things right in his head after experiencing something incredible.  Something overpowering and frightening, orchestrated by creatures appearing nothing whatsoever like the traditional variety plastered upon many a book and movie screen.  Indeed, these entities reportedly appeared truly "alien."

No, I have not seen the book yet.  Maybe I never will, as I gave up reading and reviewing UFO-related books for print a long time ago, having realized that my meager contributions to UFO research had peaked and it was time to get out of the way.  Still, I am intrigued, and I may latch on to a copy sooner or later.

Why am I a Pascagoula abduction cheerleader?  It's not just the involvement of Dr. J. Allen Hynek (who was impressed), nor the passed polygraphs, nor the secretly recorded conversation between Hickson and Parker in the sheriff's office, nor the obvious integrity of each man.  For me, the whole thing blossomed particularly when the existence of multiple witnesses came up -- witnesses on the highway near the Pascagoula River who apparently watched a very strange-looking craft glide into the area where the two men were fishing, at approximately the same time.  Among the witnesses, as we've noted previously, included three active duty Navy men watching in awe as they proceeded along the highway, and one of them came forward not only to describe what they saw in the sky, but to publicly identify himself and his buddies by name.  The AP's Natalie Chambers wrote about the admirable witness aspect, prompting the late popular ABC Radio commentator Paul Harvey to spend an entire Saturday noon session laying out the Pascagoula mystery for his national audience years after it had occurred, powerfully making the point that Hickson and Parker weren't exactly alone that fateful late afternoon.

Calvin Parker was reportedly encouraged by his wife to write his own account of the Pascagoula incident -- something he really had wanted to do anyway, knowing that the years were passing.  Who among us knows how much time we have left on Earth to accomplish things we really feel must be done?

With a foreword by Philip Mantle (who also published the story) and lots of assistance to Parker by well-known UFO researchers to give the book a nudge, Parker's book should rank among the most important regarding UFO abductions.  Yes, the abduction phenomenon can be tricky to explore, and many a case has turned out to be pure nothing, but now and then along comes a story so bizarre, yet so persuasive, that it commands our attention.  I'm in Calvin Parker's corner on this one, have never not been, but I sure as hell never plan to go fishing in Pascagoula.

Rotting from the Inside Out:  How long will it take NY's governor to eat his own tail?  "We're not going to make America great again," promised Andrew Cuomo in a speech a few days ago. "It was never that great."  This incredibly pampered leftist governor, purely a child of privilege from birth, has no idea what it means to be a hard-working, sacrificing American.  If not for progressive morons in the direction of New York City and "downstate" in general who continue to vote for him, this fool would be relegated to reciting bad poetry on a street corner.

The miracle of plastics:  With non-stop reports surfacing of dangerous, cancer-friendly chemicals leaching from plastic food, drink and storage containers, the only solution seems to be a return to glass jars and metal vessels, maybe even containers manufactured with a vegetation base.  Of course, despite the solution, nobody wants to pay to ship the inevitable extra weight of heavier containers, so don't hold your breath for the Big Change.  Plastic has made our lives easier and better, but like so many things its very substance eventually deteriorates and becomes a threat.  We suspect the plastic nightmare has only just begun, its most engulfing terrors yet unrealized.  Meanwhile, the separate but equal matter of food contamination seems to be on the minds of consumers.

Going Out in Style

Aside from a relatively dispassionate-sounding theme song in the movie, "M*A*S*H," suicide is rarely painless for family and friends left behind.

Warnings aside, however, there's no denying that suicides  -- and murder/suicides -- are dramatically on the rise in the U.S., and our fascination with these incidents captivates much of the mainstream media whenever its members can tear themselves away from daily attacks on Trump.

Personally, I believe that a lot of post-modern suicides involve not only personal mental health, economic or family issues, but also a growing mass realization that we humans, no matter how you deal the cards, add up to just one monster species of rat-bastard, smiling phony smiles all the way, destroying in the name of building and selectively decimating other species in the name of necessity "for public safety."  Strong words?  Look around.

But, well -- so here's this guy at the Seattle airport, 29 years of age, a baggage handler who never flew a plane in his life.  Whatever's going on in Richard Russell's head, he forged ahead to break all the rules that many folks whose lives are encumbered by regulation wish they could crush, and off he goes into the wild blue aboard His Own Private passenger aircraft with nobody aboard to spoil fate's definitive and final bucket list entry.

To the country's amazement, stunning even veteran pilots who may or may not have endured spectacular UFO encounters during their careers, here's this trusted airline employee, a nice and compassionate man by all accounts, executing awe-inspiring air show style maneuvers as he weaves and winds his path toward a one-way destiny.  Unsure whether terrorism was the name of this crazy game, a couple of fighter jets soon join the rogue non-pilot, stimulating some folks on the ground to report this as an event in which jets are chasing a UFO (Ground Zero radio show broadcaster Clyde Lewis was tipped off to this sky activity as phone calls about a possible UFO pursuit by jet fighters began trickling in).

So time goes on, and the airport tower and others apparently establish radio contact with Russell, soon to be called "Rich" by one new-found tower buddy who attempts unsuccessfully to talk him down as jet fighter pilots await orders to shoot "Rich" out of the air.

But what must Russell be thinking?  His general matter-of-fact way of speaking doesn't betray his own thoughts that, in his own words, he's "got a few screws loose," though he puts the icing on a crazy cake by adding, "I guess I never really knew it till now."  Hmm.  Maybe cats can drive cars, too.

So, "Rich," now everybody in authority's new friend (until he lands the plane, that is), surely must realize, despite helpful voices poised to assist him with friendly fire of some nature, that there's nothing good awaiting him on terra firma except a thousand psychiatrists and psychologists, law enforcement personnel from agencies whose names some of us can't even pronounce, and the likely prospect of spending the rest of his life rotting in prison or being cocoon-wrapped within the confines of a mental institution.

Maybe for the first time in his life, a choice is clear, and once one has chosen to become daredevil for an instant, violating all the rules society puts in place to keep our leashes short, no other punishing destination for flying like a bird exists except Crash and Burn Land, whether the supposedly rational reside momentarily in Crazytown or Adventure City.  About Russell's apparent intention to fly but not land -- who wouldn't admire and share the prospect of merely staying airborne and avoiding the growing pile of human-caused physical and social excrement burgeoning on Earth?  One wonders what lessons Russell may have gleaned from watching tarnished comings and goings at the Seattle airport.

Nevertheless, oh my, how very bonkers authorities go when seemingly good, normal people turn on a dime to become something unexpected.

We suggest, get used to it.  I know what we are, and there is no cure in sight.

President Trump needs to effect an Executive Order to strike "O" from the alphabet for a while, please, and then maybe we can forget the names, Obama and Omarosa.  Regarding the latter -- when I entered the Air Force and later on worked for a government agency, I was required to sign various papers basically requiring a degree of loyalty.  So now this Omarosa character, already caught up in lies and memory shape-shifting, shouldn't be prosecuted for recording (!!) and revealing things that might send other folks right to jail and whip up some huge fines?  If she doesn't already know the meaning of non-disclosure, maybe she will very soon, should government authorities actually do the right thing.

South Africa meltdown:  Seems a tad extreme for the government to kill white farmers so black folk can take the land.  Obama, of course, didn't say a word about this carnage when he spoke ever so eloquently, so vacantly, when he was right in the thick of horrible things recently in S.A.  The accommodating press, of course, hardly report anything in this country about this ongoing hell.

Antifa unmasked:   These cockroaches are fascists of the worst order, traversing mere foul language to actually harm and threaten.  Their numbers may be growing among young radicals looking for the wrong reasons to be relevant, but their actions will eventually put them in a very bad place.

Our New Social Disease - From S&M to SM

I can remember those golden (maybe not the best word to use in the current political climate mixed with fake Russian news)) days when even town perverts had standards and adhered to some degree of respectability, a time when S&M was the convenient and appetizingly short term for sadomasochism.  These days, get rid of the ampersand, leave SM by itself and what do you get?  Why, SM means social media, of course, and when you're talking about SM you're probably still alluding to S&M in some way.

Social media was doing just fine until the corporate censors stepped in, and yes, I'm thinking about Alex Jones suddenly being dropped by a succession of social media networks in falling domino fashion.  No, I've not spent a lot of time checking out Jones' shtick in the past because his stuff doesn't appeal to me, but to each his own.  Pardon me, to each THEIR own.

Ironically, Alex Jones' stock-in-trade warnings about conspiracies now seem to have come true -- right in his living room, basically.  If just one SM network had dropped him, well, hmm -- but several almost simultaneously?

This is some pretty dangerous activity on the ol' Internet.  Wasn't this vast digital wasteland supposed to be the ultimate, if not the last bastion of anything-goes free speech?  If the major players won't allow potentially loathsome or eye of the beholder speech online, what remains?  Used to be, any high school kid realized that a major responsibility of the First Amendment is to protect words which offend, not simply the sappy tympanic membrane and optical nerve-safe stuff.

But like so many other things, there's probably much more going on here.  For starters, leftists who think they own the Web would love to rid the world of both conservative sites and of those who would question and unravel their power.  No, Alex Jones is not a conservative, but he doesn't need to be.  He can be outspoken, he can be outrageously wrong and he can act the fool, his choice.  The thing is, in American society such people have both their supporters and detractors, and as long as everybody has a fair chance to vent their opinions, we'll be fine.

Unfortunately, the dictators of mind control don't merely ply their trade in China, Russia and North Korea.  We have our own, right here in the USA, though it was never supposed to be this way.  And if the only cure for selective private censorship is more government control, we're in more trouble than we care to believe, though this evolving situation regarding denial of service over alleged violation of nebulous "standards" by major players may indeed lead to the halls of Congress for. . .something.

We shudder, too, to ponder that much of the current status Web-wise likely stems from global influences laboring and tweaking in conjunction with domestic decision makers.

As many sources have already pointed out, how is it, for example, that social media participants such as Louis Farrakhan haven't been banned for violent rhetoric?  Obviously, this is but one example.  Who goes and who stays -- when maybe everybody, with few exceptions, should stay?

If little else, the major social media companies suddenly appear to have engaged in exactly what they're pursuing Trump for -- collusion.  Ironic, yes?  Or is the word conspiracy?