Process Due...

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I feel like my plug is pulled. Drugged, distracted, and annulled—adrift in a society of wayward souls who would be free...

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In Pride Ensconced

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I spread my arms, beseech the sky, and wonder why we even try to elevate our species' place if much we touch is soon disgraced.  We've potential we've ignored; we fall short, I'd bet?  Deplored.

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"F" You...

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I'd rather live what's real and suffer, tied to "wheels" and rent asunderslapped by chance and brought down lowbefore I'd take the path  you  show. You've ever earned my disrespect. You have performed in glad neglect, and lacking bruises for your shame you prosecute to shift the blame.  This explains why I've no trust and why I'm filled with rank disgust. See, trust is what you would betray as from our bones our flesh you flay!
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In Good Faith...

 

UFOs are, by definition, change, and point to realities of much more breadth and scope—potential and expansiveness. At the same time it gets no easier to maintain a façade of normalcy for the cowardly denial and uncalled for mendacity of a niggardly few. Accordingly, it becomes increasingly more difficult to tolerate these garden-variety "noisome negativists," hubristic piss-wits who laugh up damp sleeves at that which they have no capacity to understand, no aptitude to accept, no ability to incorporate, and no skill to recognize! 


Consequently, I seek my own questions though the answers offend me, shock me, or shame me. In the first place it's not always offense, shock, and shame. In the second, there is, many times, joy beyond the shame, satisfaction beyond the shock, and fellowship, good readers, beyond the offense.  It's why we'll all keep looking, regardless.

Still, what is to become of Magazines and promises made in good faith?  Forgetting other, more artless, betrayals of long-standing contracts which may precede those made as regards Magazines and their good faith promises, betrayals which water fire and stifle ambition... there is a cost of producing a pulp magazine in the corporeal existential so dire it could even prohibit production of same... ...the darkness as regards these matters is complete though... something might yet be found? That would be my contention.  

Blood from stone?  The stone is not entirely at fault, I suspect.  We'll all hear explanation, eventually. It's trickling out now if you're listening... ...trickling where one of our own is being "tortured" in "prison" so as to provide excuse to _keep_ him incarcerated... ...and not collecting millions as a result of the civil action against Suffolk County and its State of New York... "Rath 'o GAWD" money, reader.  So much so that if John dies now?  

...They killed him. 

It's more than we know, eh?  All of it, and all of it doing what it can.  Keep the faith.

 

Posted on 01.22.2013 by Registered CommenterAlfred Lehmberg | Comments1 Comment

A Fable On The LCD 

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The Universe is out there and it shall not go away, though the trappings of the man corrupt its rhyme. Designed to keep you thinking, it still fans the flames of will; will facilitate cognition and expand the thoughtful mind...

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