Poem of the:
The Twenty-Seventh Demigod,
Yoreth
(Yoreth,
The Plato of Hell’s Shallow Waters)
He called his assemblage, unveiled his plan
To the seven-two names, that sat in a circle whom
Were to rule the worlds, with various qualities
And redundant plans, under a hypothesis that
That was taking too long…
He lectured, and preached,
on the table of archangels, whom to feared, that
watched over the worlds, and wrote down their names,
as commonly written, on tablets for his assemblage—
He said, Micha’el also goes by the name of Lelah,
Elsewhere, that is, so where you are assigned,
Beware, this information I’m about to give, for it
Comes under the hard research of Vau, which
He seized from the 6th, Sophiroth (spirit of beauty
And evil).
I beckon you to you all, during your trials and
Adventures, missions and all, to use black magic as
Often as possible, make much use of it, it is all related to
The order of demons, and spells to the order of
Angels and evil spirits, as well…
The arch devil Belphegor has cursed us if we don’t.
He has his legions of demons standing by, but
Fears the Arch Angel Michael his army (the Malachim).
And so today, it is my task to try and translate
Hebrew symbols into readable English
I have handed out clay tablets to each of you, to help,
and believe me tt is almost a hopeless task, however
I am the Plato of Hell’s Shallow Waters, and have
Twenty-four PhD’s, and thus, I have created these
Language tablets, lost once to mankind, now found and
Translated by me, so make sure you pronounce the words correctly, due to the fact, Aramaic was its earlier language
Of Palestine, written before the birth of Christ.
To each of you, my students, I give the Talmud, and
Of the old scrolls of the Scripture; hence, we
Shall look at the verities that existed once in the Bible,
Until translates came into being.
You will see, and witness in the Bible, and my
Tablets, ‘signs’ (astrologers) assume the signs to mean
Certain things, and this of course was taught
To me by one of the Great Watchers’, of
Prehistory, an arch angel, one of the two-hundred
Azaz’el, to watch over man, and decided to cohabitate
With woman, review Genesis 6, when you got time.
Vaho, the 49th student, stood up, said:
“The tablets submitted in this lecture, are of great
Assistance, now we will know in this world, what we are
Dealing with; this archetypal world, of a vast universe;
world of materialisms. I see in this tablet you gave,
Something that reads ‘destruction of the soul’
Which I assume is our goal?”
You are quite right Vaho, we can call it pure spirits or
The soul or sprits, or the plastic mediator—call it what
You will, but I do not use the word destruction,
Because the soul cannot be destroyed, that is why
I am giving this lecture, so you do not go off on
Some half hazard adventure. These tables
Is a mystery to the entire universe, but me?
And those Old Ones who write them.
Let me explain Vaho, the soul is immortal
By renewal of itself, even through destruction of its forms;
And so while the prey lives, you must bury the soul,
We have done this to a certain degree by presenting
Evolution as an idea, and thus this has produced
Forgetfulness without destruction, buried the soul alive,
Sort of speaking: the human flesh, the body is
The shell, the veil, like a shroud, do you understand
(Vaho nodded his head yes, still standing).
From the graces of God, proceeds the great angel Micha’el
The good angel of the soul; but you and I are of course
Uninfluenced by the good aspirations of this spirit, as is
Samael the evil spirit, the one next to you (Samael, is an
Angelic being, he laughs).
Thus, we see good and evil on the table of thoughts
Do we not? (Yeli, stands up, the 2nd in the assemblage)
“Yes, Maestro…” he yelps aloud so all can hear.
Is it not true Yeli, that God allows us to carry on to
See if His so called pure emanations: to the worlds
Can deteriorate after those whom are given his
Radioactive light, if we can produce decay in those
Grabbing on to it? “Yes indeed (says Yeli), that is God’s
Plan, weed out the decay before it gets into heaven.”
So with this in mind, you should know that humans
Have wisdom, intelligence, love and justice
Circulating in their minds; what else do they have–?
Haa (26th name in the assemblage) stood up to answer:
“Maestro, there is, according to this tablet,
Beauty in their minds, and firmness in their souls,
and splendor, and righteousness, greed and materialism.”
Student Haa, do you understand these words?
“I think so,” said Haa.
So you are not sure? Some are similar to others. For each
World you go to, different worlds have different terms, as
Did different times, and different location on earth, term righteousness differently, earth is a material world.
As you read these Hebrew tablets, some I see are reading them
Wrong, why have you not asked me how to read them?
This is a question to all?
Sit, 3rd in the assemblage, stood up, said, “Is it not
Because of pride, we do not want to look bad in front of you?”
Oh yes, yes indeed, you will be a help to your missions.
You read Hebrew from right to left, thus, just the
Reverse of English. Number one starts at the right hand side.
And if we supply the vowels, we secure the names of the enemy;
Those angelic beings watching over the cities of the world;
We must remember the names you come out with are
Aligned to the four heavens on the other side of the tablet,
These names go back to the days of the creation of the earth.
Note: and so it was, at the assemblage, all were—thereafter, assigned their missions,
duties, and locations, on earth, and elsewhere.
#2308 3-2-2008
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Faith and Logic
(Logic vs. Faith) We talk of faith as if it is abstract, an intrinsic spirit that has to bite you before it becomes real, subjective (and when you get the blessing from the faith you don’t have, but wish you had, and the echo hits God’s ears, then we call it by-chance, for nothing else could have produced it). Faith, its roots are belief, trust, very simple roots, but if you hate God, pride will stop the faith from entering the soul, and what do you have left, a Jaw bone from Darwin’s theory; logic has much more to deal with, in the race of thought (or thinking and deduction). The question may come up in this prose work, is God to be understood logically or by faith? If you saw Jesus, whom the Christians call God incarnate, would you say “This is not logical?” So therefore it is not, and is simply an illusion, for some reason, my mind must be taxed? In reality, I don’t know what the other man would say, but I know what I would say “It is Jesus, because I saw him,” and therefore logical or not, it is (we may have to look at whose logical concepts are we dealing with also, Plato’s or Aristotle’s? (or my own)—they did not think the same you know, so who was right?). And no one can tell me otherwise.” All the scientists out there don’t read this, it will just spoil your breakfast or lunch, go back to the moon. But is there a moon (maybe he can’t go back there, he only saw it), maybe it is not, but we’ve been there right? Or at least someone has, maybe it is not so, just a lie, on top of a created illusion (like Darwin’s Fairy Tale, no one ever saw an ape man; we saw a Jaw from the Heidelberg Man, and a few more fragments from the Java woman, and now we got a human ape running around a million years ago, sent by Darwin via, his theory, is this logical? It takes a lot more faith to believe in this, than God.) Anyhow, the moon, perhaps we saw, special effects as they call it. Anyhow, I will take it by faith that man has been on the moon, for I can’t see any real concrete logic here.
Now what is logic and faith have to do with the moon? I believe because I saw it on TV, and in the magazines, man landing on the moon in 1969, sat in a bar in San Francisco, but I saw Jesus also, on TV and in the magazines also, and in some visions, and I see the moon in the sky so it is as seeing Jesus in the person also, so I have three equal elements here, actually Jesus has one up. What is logistical here? We shall look at that in a moment, we can call it reasoning out, in what we are doing now, or common sense (which is not all that common nowadays, which is seeing might be believing), or it can be judgment, and that we have to hope is correct, and it does not mean judgment by science, although scientist would claim I think it should be. Logic to me is perhaps closer to ‘What else could it be?” Most folks who study the cosmos come to the conclusion, there has to be a God (I read that someplace, but it makes sense in that, we cannot conceive a beginning, only an end).
(Did Jesus exist?) More evidence out there says He did, and it’s been out there a very long time, perhaps more than believing in a Davy Crockett, or Daniel Boon, or a Muhammad or a George Washington. We have only paintings of these folks (and some written documents), like Jesus, in a way, but his has more worldwide expectance, more pictures, is known in more countries, and the New Testament of the Bible was written because of Him. Christmas was created because of Him, and BC and AD was created because of him, until some goofball change it, must had been an angry believer who did not get his way with God. Anyhow, point of fact, Jesus is more known than any of these fellows, yet, he is more in question of His existence, this is not logical to me. But we believe our historians would not make them up, so we have faith in them, we believe them, we trust them (or do we, and perhaps we are in a bubble). But I like Davy Crockett, although I think, and could most likely prove, a lot of what they say he did (or he said he did in his book), is not up to the full truth (and I never ever even say Davy in a vision yet).
(Logic and Reason) When we talk philosophy, we are talking about logic or reasoning, are we not? Plato, Socrates, and Aristotle, and their kind, argued on what was and what was not, or appeared not to be, but should be because it is. Socrates was killed because he made what he thought was a logical determination, that there was only one God, not many, Athens did not like it. He put logic and faith into one bag. Prior to this we had a whole lot of gods in one bag doing nothing, all based on faith, no logic; I’ve found out in life what seems right today, ten years down the road, it becomes to the contrary, and so at best, I got to say we bend logic in each age as did the Athenians, as we bend the bible, or Karen today, or the Talmud, to suite the reasoning we want to come out at the other end, and those who go against it, go against the: church, mosque, or synagogue, are outcasts, whom really are observers, and should be treated as such.
(Examples) Is it right to kill whales, so we can have whale stews, or steak? Or to kill Elephants because there are too many in a park, and people want ivory? Debates are often won by who buys the biggest dinner, it all sounds logical to be a big receiver. It is all in who is the interpreter, especially if it involves self-interest. If anyone knew this, it was Socrates. Philosophy is perhaps the only discipline, if you can call it that, which has not advanced much in comparisons to psychology, anthropology, sociology, and all the rest of the zoologies and methods we use to understand the world of man.
I don’t wish to be the logic–chopper today, but take all these theories, and theorems and disputations and throw them into the wind, renew the encrypted, and nuclease mind, the first step, to expurgation the overlapping pretense, and self-interest, now common sense can flow (which was not common a moment ago, with faith).
(Conclusion) In the process of reasoning out whatever you are reasoning out, use some faith with it, it is better to believe in something believable, even if it does not hold the logic the professor prefers you have—why? First, because to you it is believable, second is there a reason not to believe it, I mean, did the believer, the one you believe in do something to you to be put into second place, and thus, untrustworthy? If not believe—why? Here we go again, because it is healthier to do so. The reasoning here comes into play, when the person is not trustworthy, then if you believe in him, it is not faith you are working with, but gullibility (and you are blind, or it is more painful for you to jump out of denial).
(Going against the grain) Do not damn the sources of error, or make hurdles for folks to jump over them, some minds are weak, and need pictures and images to worship, a weak mind of faith is not domination, or the unpardonable sin, it is reality for the other person, habit you could say, and often mistaken for a thing (let’s hope it is not, a pray is better than a curse), but the error is not so unreasonable as to make it proceed above a human being. Let it sink, where it may, God will take it from there, He always does, contrary perhaps to the suspended universe, hovering above us, but I can live with that, if the mirrors can live with my face.
3-1-2008 (prose, #2307)
Now what is logic and faith have to do with the moon? I believe because I saw it on TV, and in the magazines, man landing on the moon in 1969, sat in a bar in San Francisco, but I saw Jesus also, on TV and in the magazines also, and in some visions, and I see the moon in the sky so it is as seeing Jesus in the person also, so I have three equal elements here, actually Jesus has one up. What is logistical here? We shall look at that in a moment, we can call it reasoning out, in what we are doing now, or common sense (which is not all that common nowadays, which is seeing might be believing), or it can be judgment, and that we have to hope is correct, and it does not mean judgment by science, although scientist would claim I think it should be. Logic to me is perhaps closer to ‘What else could it be?” Most folks who study the cosmos come to the conclusion, there has to be a God (I read that someplace, but it makes sense in that, we cannot conceive a beginning, only an end).
(Did Jesus exist?) More evidence out there says He did, and it’s been out there a very long time, perhaps more than believing in a Davy Crockett, or Daniel Boon, or a Muhammad or a George Washington. We have only paintings of these folks (and some written documents), like Jesus, in a way, but his has more worldwide expectance, more pictures, is known in more countries, and the New Testament of the Bible was written because of Him. Christmas was created because of Him, and BC and AD was created because of him, until some goofball change it, must had been an angry believer who did not get his way with God. Anyhow, point of fact, Jesus is more known than any of these fellows, yet, he is more in question of His existence, this is not logical to me. But we believe our historians would not make them up, so we have faith in them, we believe them, we trust them (or do we, and perhaps we are in a bubble). But I like Davy Crockett, although I think, and could most likely prove, a lot of what they say he did (or he said he did in his book), is not up to the full truth (and I never ever even say Davy in a vision yet).
(Logic and Reason) When we talk philosophy, we are talking about logic or reasoning, are we not? Plato, Socrates, and Aristotle, and their kind, argued on what was and what was not, or appeared not to be, but should be because it is. Socrates was killed because he made what he thought was a logical determination, that there was only one God, not many, Athens did not like it. He put logic and faith into one bag. Prior to this we had a whole lot of gods in one bag doing nothing, all based on faith, no logic; I’ve found out in life what seems right today, ten years down the road, it becomes to the contrary, and so at best, I got to say we bend logic in each age as did the Athenians, as we bend the bible, or Karen today, or the Talmud, to suite the reasoning we want to come out at the other end, and those who go against it, go against the: church, mosque, or synagogue, are outcasts, whom really are observers, and should be treated as such.
(Examples) Is it right to kill whales, so we can have whale stews, or steak? Or to kill Elephants because there are too many in a park, and people want ivory? Debates are often won by who buys the biggest dinner, it all sounds logical to be a big receiver. It is all in who is the interpreter, especially if it involves self-interest. If anyone knew this, it was Socrates. Philosophy is perhaps the only discipline, if you can call it that, which has not advanced much in comparisons to psychology, anthropology, sociology, and all the rest of the zoologies and methods we use to understand the world of man.
I don’t wish to be the logic–chopper today, but take all these theories, and theorems and disputations and throw them into the wind, renew the encrypted, and nuclease mind, the first step, to expurgation the overlapping pretense, and self-interest, now common sense can flow (which was not common a moment ago, with faith).
(Conclusion) In the process of reasoning out whatever you are reasoning out, use some faith with it, it is better to believe in something believable, even if it does not hold the logic the professor prefers you have—why? First, because to you it is believable, second is there a reason not to believe it, I mean, did the believer, the one you believe in do something to you to be put into second place, and thus, untrustworthy? If not believe—why? Here we go again, because it is healthier to do so. The reasoning here comes into play, when the person is not trustworthy, then if you believe in him, it is not faith you are working with, but gullibility (and you are blind, or it is more painful for you to jump out of denial).
(Going against the grain) Do not damn the sources of error, or make hurdles for folks to jump over them, some minds are weak, and need pictures and images to worship, a weak mind of faith is not domination, or the unpardonable sin, it is reality for the other person, habit you could say, and often mistaken for a thing (let’s hope it is not, a pray is better than a curse), but the error is not so unreasonable as to make it proceed above a human being. Let it sink, where it may, God will take it from there, He always does, contrary perhaps to the suspended universe, hovering above us, but I can live with that, if the mirrors can live with my face.
3-1-2008 (prose, #2307)
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
No More Slaves for the Serbs (Remembering Kosovo's Fight)
Kosovo’s Independence (2-26-2008)
More disruption with Bosnian Serbs, we have here, a mob of protesters that are giving humanity a clear message (that they are not able to confront issues with dialogue), actually they gave the citizens of Kosovo that same clear message not long ago, by the slaughtering of them, and now they want the world and the minds of the persecuted to welcome them into their little hornets nest, and to be ruled by them. If I was the Islamic Albanian in Kosovo, I’d dread being under the iron hand of these deadly souls. Look how they feel about their blessed Kosovo, can you imagine how they will feel once they get their hands on the throats of the citizens. I don’t blame the good citizens of Kosovo for wanting once and for all to rid themselves of the beasts across their boarder, God help me if I had to live under such a regime.
They wanted to kill everybody in the US Embassy there, because we stuck up for the weak side. These are real nice people to work with, just kidding of course, but I am so happy the Kosovo had the guts to stand up tall for liberty and freedom and honor, and I say that loud and clear. We have a right, like it or not, to stand up for whom we feel should be independent.
The Serbian capital, Belgrade, does not dictate to the world how they should act, or feel, when you can’t govern a country right, it is the duty of its citizens to set thing proper, not to live under the thrones of those who feel they have a right to rule over you, like a pack of snakes. Be it in Belgrade or Banja Luka, I’d not trust the government of Belgrade with my life, and if I had to be subject to them, I’d go to war I suppose, like Kosovo might, or has in the past to protect themselves from the wolves. I am proud of America, and the EU, those countries standing up for liberty. Spain, is as bad a Russia, and China (China holds a knife over the throat of Tibet, and would like Taiwan as a pet, so no wonder why they are in support of Belgrade’s policy; Spain is not much different, and Russia, well, what do you expect, they lost half their land because they were savages, and now fear they will lose a nasty little friend, one of the few left.
More disruption with Bosnian Serbs, we have here, a mob of protesters that are giving humanity a clear message (that they are not able to confront issues with dialogue), actually they gave the citizens of Kosovo that same clear message not long ago, by the slaughtering of them, and now they want the world and the minds of the persecuted to welcome them into their little hornets nest, and to be ruled by them. If I was the Islamic Albanian in Kosovo, I’d dread being under the iron hand of these deadly souls. Look how they feel about their blessed Kosovo, can you imagine how they will feel once they get their hands on the throats of the citizens. I don’t blame the good citizens of Kosovo for wanting once and for all to rid themselves of the beasts across their boarder, God help me if I had to live under such a regime.
They wanted to kill everybody in the US Embassy there, because we stuck up for the weak side. These are real nice people to work with, just kidding of course, but I am so happy the Kosovo had the guts to stand up tall for liberty and freedom and honor, and I say that loud and clear. We have a right, like it or not, to stand up for whom we feel should be independent.
The Serbian capital, Belgrade, does not dictate to the world how they should act, or feel, when you can’t govern a country right, it is the duty of its citizens to set thing proper, not to live under the thrones of those who feel they have a right to rule over you, like a pack of snakes. Be it in Belgrade or Banja Luka, I’d not trust the government of Belgrade with my life, and if I had to be subject to them, I’d go to war I suppose, like Kosovo might, or has in the past to protect themselves from the wolves. I am proud of America, and the EU, those countries standing up for liberty. Spain, is as bad a Russia, and China (China holds a knife over the throat of Tibet, and would like Taiwan as a pet, so no wonder why they are in support of Belgrade’s policy; Spain is not much different, and Russia, well, what do you expect, they lost half their land because they were savages, and now fear they will lose a nasty little friend, one of the few left.
Monday, February 25, 2008
James Joyce and Ernest Hemingway: Who Helped them?
James Joyce and Ernest Hemingway:
Who helped them?
It has always interested me (perhaps because of my background in psychology), how men and women are made, from the days of youth, to the days of just prior to death. It is never because one man stood alone against all the odds in the world. It is because he took opportunity when it came by. He saw it, grabbed it, and thus, waited, or polished, or whatever it took he or she did, to make it to the next step, and so I just wanted to take a quick view of two famous writers, whom would not have been famous had they not done what I just said, or so I believe, and been at in the right place at the right time (and I think I can say, they went to the right place, hoping to find what they did find, as I did in 1968, when I went to San Francisco, against many odds, and wrote a book about it, called, “Romancing San Francisco”.
What made these two people I will bring to light in a moment, good writers? Somewhere, along the line, everyone gets a little help. James Joyce was a very bad writer, I have a few of his First Edition poem books, he wrote a few of them, they are not all that great either. But why was his book, number one throughout the 1930s, if he was not so hot? Some people have good skills and imagination, others have one or the other, and seldom do they have both. Joyce had a good imagination, but stunk on skills, if it wasn’t for Ezra Pound, James Joyce would never have made the grade. Ulysses, was gone over by Mr. Pound, and Joyce took all the information he was willing to give to heart, made his changes as needed: Joyce was not dumb, just not skilled, and thus he produced a best seller, he learned on the job; and the Dubliners, well, he kept what he learned and life went on.
As for Hemingway, he had help on three sides or four. One, it was F. Scott Fitzgerald who got the publishers to look at his stuff. Second, it was Shakespeare And Company that became his second home, and where he got his books to read, and study free. Third, he got Ezra Pound to take him under his wing, and teach him the art, as did Anderson take Hemingway under his wing, and introduced him to his publishers as well, and Stein, she introduced him to the writers and artist, and poets of Paris; in addition, he came from a pretty well off family, other than that, he was a reporter with a rough way of writing, that would not have sold a book, had he not taken advantage of what came his way. And yes, in time he turned out to be a fairly good writer, too much dialogue for me, yet I have most, if not all his books, first editions, so nonetheless, he was a good writer (some psychological problems in the head, but most writers got them, he just could not control them).
Who helped them?
It has always interested me (perhaps because of my background in psychology), how men and women are made, from the days of youth, to the days of just prior to death. It is never because one man stood alone against all the odds in the world. It is because he took opportunity when it came by. He saw it, grabbed it, and thus, waited, or polished, or whatever it took he or she did, to make it to the next step, and so I just wanted to take a quick view of two famous writers, whom would not have been famous had they not done what I just said, or so I believe, and been at in the right place at the right time (and I think I can say, they went to the right place, hoping to find what they did find, as I did in 1968, when I went to San Francisco, against many odds, and wrote a book about it, called, “Romancing San Francisco”.
What made these two people I will bring to light in a moment, good writers? Somewhere, along the line, everyone gets a little help. James Joyce was a very bad writer, I have a few of his First Edition poem books, he wrote a few of them, they are not all that great either. But why was his book, number one throughout the 1930s, if he was not so hot? Some people have good skills and imagination, others have one or the other, and seldom do they have both. Joyce had a good imagination, but stunk on skills, if it wasn’t for Ezra Pound, James Joyce would never have made the grade. Ulysses, was gone over by Mr. Pound, and Joyce took all the information he was willing to give to heart, made his changes as needed: Joyce was not dumb, just not skilled, and thus he produced a best seller, he learned on the job; and the Dubliners, well, he kept what he learned and life went on.
As for Hemingway, he had help on three sides or four. One, it was F. Scott Fitzgerald who got the publishers to look at his stuff. Second, it was Shakespeare And Company that became his second home, and where he got his books to read, and study free. Third, he got Ezra Pound to take him under his wing, and teach him the art, as did Anderson take Hemingway under his wing, and introduced him to his publishers as well, and Stein, she introduced him to the writers and artist, and poets of Paris; in addition, he came from a pretty well off family, other than that, he was a reporter with a rough way of writing, that would not have sold a book, had he not taken advantage of what came his way. And yes, in time he turned out to be a fairly good writer, too much dialogue for me, yet I have most, if not all his books, first editions, so nonetheless, he was a good writer (some psychological problems in the head, but most writers got them, he just could not control them).
Saturday, February 23, 2008
MRSA and Aids: who are we allowed to blame? (The Green Monkey?)
MRSA and Aids: who are we allowed to blame?
The Green Monkey?
MRSA bacteria, otherwise known as methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus MSRA spreads via surface-to-surface contact, symptoms can include pimple-like sores on the skin where the bacteria launch their attack. We already got the experts out there, saying it is a super bug disease, and not a gay disease, it did not take them long to blame it on the bug. Dave Mosher, Live Science Staff Writer, makes a joke out of the whole thing, as expected, he is most likely gay.
This is a hard subject, and issue for open minded adults, if it is too hard for your eyes to read, then don’t but it does exist; the seriousness of this issue will not fade into nothingness, and parents need to know this for their children, it can be contagious, if a person has this virus in their hands and you shake their hands, you might need to say some prayers, or quickly clean yourself with whatever it takes. Funny, I’m sixty years old, and when I was growing up, we never had such issues like this, worldwide, perhaps people were more considerate of others then.
It’s a shame, a shame, a shame; we avoid trying to blame Aids and MRSA on the Gays, when they are gay diseases created by them. The Gay community has done an outstanding job, hollering “Discrimination,” so they can carry on with their exposed diseases, blaming it on everyone but themselves (even the Green Monkey), and their style of living goes on unchallenged. It has killed more people than Aids I’ve heard recently, and it is now circulating the globe, and it started in my old stomping grounds (so it has been said), in San Francisco, Castro Street. I lived in that area back in 1968-69. Back then there were many gays, but they didn’t parade their way of life like peacocks, as they do nowadays, and blame everything on everybody else, but themselves; gays are transmitting this new disease, and with their filthy lifestyle, it doesn’t help; and everybody is afraid to call it what it is and put the blame on those who deserve it (no responsibility, no discipline, equals no limits: the gays like this).
It now is a growing problem for Peru, a year ago, no one heard of it (yet it dates bay a ways). This involves bacteria’s (19,000-lives in the USA have perished because of this bacteria).
In addition to gays, it also can be spread by those folks who make love in the rectum other than gays, that is where the bacteria comes from to my understanding.
If the gays could keep it in the family, and not spread it to the general population, I would not be writing this letter, but like most irresponsible kids, they can’t keep their hands out of the cookie jar, they got to spread it around.
CNN: In a startling admission, the head of a major homosexual activist group said HIV/AIDS is a "gay disease."
A new ad campaign out in Los Angeles claims that HIV is a Gay disease (The Gay and Lesbian Center)
The Green Monkey?
MRSA bacteria, otherwise known as methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus MSRA spreads via surface-to-surface contact, symptoms can include pimple-like sores on the skin where the bacteria launch their attack. We already got the experts out there, saying it is a super bug disease, and not a gay disease, it did not take them long to blame it on the bug. Dave Mosher, Live Science Staff Writer, makes a joke out of the whole thing, as expected, he is most likely gay.
This is a hard subject, and issue for open minded adults, if it is too hard for your eyes to read, then don’t but it does exist; the seriousness of this issue will not fade into nothingness, and parents need to know this for their children, it can be contagious, if a person has this virus in their hands and you shake their hands, you might need to say some prayers, or quickly clean yourself with whatever it takes. Funny, I’m sixty years old, and when I was growing up, we never had such issues like this, worldwide, perhaps people were more considerate of others then.
It’s a shame, a shame, a shame; we avoid trying to blame Aids and MRSA on the Gays, when they are gay diseases created by them. The Gay community has done an outstanding job, hollering “Discrimination,” so they can carry on with their exposed diseases, blaming it on everyone but themselves (even the Green Monkey), and their style of living goes on unchallenged. It has killed more people than Aids I’ve heard recently, and it is now circulating the globe, and it started in my old stomping grounds (so it has been said), in San Francisco, Castro Street. I lived in that area back in 1968-69. Back then there were many gays, but they didn’t parade their way of life like peacocks, as they do nowadays, and blame everything on everybody else, but themselves; gays are transmitting this new disease, and with their filthy lifestyle, it doesn’t help; and everybody is afraid to call it what it is and put the blame on those who deserve it (no responsibility, no discipline, equals no limits: the gays like this).
It now is a growing problem for Peru, a year ago, no one heard of it (yet it dates bay a ways). This involves bacteria’s (19,000-lives in the USA have perished because of this bacteria).
In addition to gays, it also can be spread by those folks who make love in the rectum other than gays, that is where the bacteria comes from to my understanding.
If the gays could keep it in the family, and not spread it to the general population, I would not be writing this letter, but like most irresponsible kids, they can’t keep their hands out of the cookie jar, they got to spread it around.
CNN: In a startling admission, the head of a major homosexual activist group said HIV/AIDS is a "gay disease."
A new ad campaign out in Los Angeles claims that HIV is a Gay disease (The Gay and Lesbian Center)
Dead Skies over Kenya ((a poem)(and Commentary on Kenya's struggle for peace))
Dead Skies over Kenya
(2/2008)
Deep death, encircles the skies over Kenya
Whence even the lightening seems remote;
Here, the cities burn, with burning eyes
Ask now what hand will save the dawn.
#2285 2-23-2008
Note: In recent weeks, there has been much commotion, fighting, and loss of life in Kenya, and it seems, the United States, along with the United Nations, are for once in unison, with concern over this African nation, not like it was back in the early 90s, when the world ran away from the Uganda crisis, and almost a million lives were lost. All Kenyans seem to agree with one thing, change the constitution, that in itself is a problem, the two sides that are in opposition, are talking, it’s about time, and in one way or another, agree with that above statement. The popular demand seems to be, a better democratic governance in their nation, for it all started because of that very reason, if I recall right, over bad elections. So, better late than never, here are two poems on the subject, or issue of Kenya, as I see it. Even Condoleezza Rice, and the former U:N: secretary-general, Kofi Annan are trying to put out fires before they start back up there, as worthless as Annan has been in the past maybe he can do something good for mankind here in the present, if it is in his heart, that is (I hope so). There will be more mass protests in the near future, but let’s hope it remains at that, better than mass graves are dug, and in that part of the world, who can ever tell. Kenya was perhaps the most civilized, and well off country in Africa, until recently that is. So here is a little poem, for a big issue.
(2/2008)
Deep death, encircles the skies over Kenya
Whence even the lightening seems remote;
Here, the cities burn, with burning eyes
Ask now what hand will save the dawn.
#2285 2-23-2008
Note: In recent weeks, there has been much commotion, fighting, and loss of life in Kenya, and it seems, the United States, along with the United Nations, are for once in unison, with concern over this African nation, not like it was back in the early 90s, when the world ran away from the Uganda crisis, and almost a million lives were lost. All Kenyans seem to agree with one thing, change the constitution, that in itself is a problem, the two sides that are in opposition, are talking, it’s about time, and in one way or another, agree with that above statement. The popular demand seems to be, a better democratic governance in their nation, for it all started because of that very reason, if I recall right, over bad elections. So, better late than never, here are two poems on the subject, or issue of Kenya, as I see it. Even Condoleezza Rice, and the former U:N: secretary-general, Kofi Annan are trying to put out fires before they start back up there, as worthless as Annan has been in the past maybe he can do something good for mankind here in the present, if it is in his heart, that is (I hope so). There will be more mass protests in the near future, but let’s hope it remains at that, better than mass graves are dug, and in that part of the world, who can ever tell. Kenya was perhaps the most civilized, and well off country in Africa, until recently that is. So here is a little poem, for a big issue.
Jungle Treachery in Satipo (Now in, English and Spanish)
Jungle Treachery in Satipo
((Alevosía en la Selva de Satipo)
( Now in Spanish and English))
Note: a true story about an old man and his ongoing struggle with the invaders of his land in the jungle of Satipo!...
Jungle Treachery in Satipo
The old man had fifty acres in the Satipo jungles of Peru that was in 1985, when he came across invaders, squatters on his property. It wasn’t long before they started building structures on his land and assuming it to be their own—out of human greed—thus, they felt it was theirs for the taking (which is not uncommon in Peru).
The old man tried aimlessly with his brother, to talk the invaders out of their quest to take over his land, for the government was of little use, or for that matter, protection. If anything, they were for hire at a lesser amount than the value of the land, and thus, could be bought to look the other way for a few dollars. But old man Augusto with his machete met the invaders eyeball to eyeball, shoulder to shoulder, and started a war that cleaned his land of the invading cockroaches, as he called them.
—But it is not always as it seems, is it? for it was not long after, when more invaders appeared, but this time with more gusto, and more perseverance, and more solitude with their fellow invaders to steal the land from the old man. And this time the law of the jungle—the machete—would be of little use.
Instead of paying the old man $7,000-dollars for the land, they paid the Shinning Path, a terrorist group, $1500, to kill the old man, and be done with the whole mess, or insure he would never return.
Hence, it was twilight when they cornered the old man by his one room shack. There, they surrounded him like hungry piranha. They had guns, machetes, and twenty men; they were lighting torches to set his shack on fire, when he found a shadowy pathway that kept him from the sight of the terrorist, thus he walked in the shadow, slowly, until he found himself in the deep of the jungle ; and behind him, his shack in flames.
It was a long walk to the city called Huancayo (in the Mantaro Valley), where his family lived, but he walked it, mile after mile, for a week straight. Upon his arrival, he had found people were asking about him, people he did not know, thus he throw a sack of fruit over a donkey, and through the Andes he rode the donkey, to Lima, Peru. It was a most trying trip, yet he felt safer doing this than remain where he had been, and moved in with his daughter. It would be twenty-years before he’d return, and so he did in 2005, only to find the invaders now had legally protested the absence of the old man, branding him a deserter of his own land, leaving it to waste away, while they cared for it. Thus, the struggle would start again, but this time, his kids, son and daughters were of an age to where they could help him, and his wife, now dead for a few years, whom had tried to keep the land away from the invaders, had put in her will, a portion of the land for each of the several kids. Thus, making the land worth fighting for.
And so my readers, this saga that took place in the jungles of Satipo, is not over yet; but should it occur in my life time, I shall let you know. End
This story was writtn about three years ago, now the land is half sold, and a good portion is being built on. So the essence of the thing might be, try to work around it, with it, through it, whatever, but don't give up.
Spanish Version
Alevosía en la Selva de Satipo
Esta es la historia de un anciano que tenía veinte hectáreas de terreno en la ceja de selva de Perú, en Satipo. Fue en 1985 cuando él descubrió por casualidad a algunos invasores, ocupantes ilegales, en su propiedad. No había transcurrido mucho tiempo desde que ellos habían empezado a construir algunas paredes sobre su terreno, asumiendo esto como propio—por avaricia humana—así, ellos sentían que esto les pertenecía por la fuerza.
Al ver esto el anciano, con su hermano, trató inútilmente de hablar con los invasores para hacerles cambiar sus intenciones de apoderarse de su terreno, ya que las autoridades eran de poca ayuda, o en este caso, de poca protección. Por el contrario, ellos habían sido sobornados por una cantidad de dinero menor que el valor del terreno para hacerse de la vista gorda, y así, ellos no le prestaban atención a este problema. Pero el anciano Augusto con su machete y con la ayuda de su hermano se enfrentó a los invasores, ojo a ojo y empezó una guerra que limpió su terreno de las cucarachas invasoras, como él los llamaba.
Pero no siempre es lo que parece ¿verdad? Porque no pasó mucho tiempo cuando más invasores aparecieron; pero esta vez con mayor entusiasmo, más perseverancia y más solícitos con sus compañeros invasores para robar las tierras del anciano. Y esta vez la ley de la selva—el machete—sería de poca utilidad.
Los invasores, en vez de pagar al anciano siete mil dólares por el costo de su terreno, habían pagado a un grupo terrorista mil quinientos dólares para matar al anciano y, de esta manera, terminar con él, quien era un obstáculo para sus planes de invasión.
Es así que una tarde, en el crepúsculo, los terroristas llegaron a la propiedad del anciano y lo arrinconaron en uno de sus cuartos de su cabaña; allí, ellos los rodearon como pirañas hambrientas. Ellos tenían armas, machetes y eran veinte hombres; ellos, estaban encendiendo antorchas para prender fuego a la cabaña del anciano, pero él a través de un escape encontró un sendero sombrío que lo mantuvo escondido de la vista de los terroristas. Así es como él caminó en la sombra, despacio, hasta que se encontró en la selva; y, detrás de él, su cabaña ardía en llamas.
Era un camino largo desde Satipo hasta la ciudad de Huancayo, donde su familia vivía, pero él caminó este trayecto kilómetros tras kilómetros por una semana entera. A su llegada a Huancayo, él descubrió que había gente preguntando por él, personas que él no conocía. Así que él decidió tomar otro rumbo, él decidió ir a Lima, para lo cual él puso un saco de frutas sobre un burro y a través de Los Andes él cabalgó hacia su nuevo destino. Este fue un viaje muy largo y duro, pero el anciano era fuerte para su edad y además él se sentía más seguro que permanecer en Huancayo.
Pasarían veinte años antes de que él regresara a la Selva de Satipo y así él lo hizo, en el 2005, sólo para encontrar que los invasores ahora legalmente estaban en su propiedad porque habían denunciado su ausencia, tildándolo de desertor de su propio terreno, dejándolo esto para ser utilizado, y que ellos, mientras, se habían hecho cargo de estos.
Y así mis lectores, esta hazaña que tomó lugar en las selvas de Satipo todavía no ha terminado, pero si esto ocurre mientras esté vivo, se los contaré.
Nota: Esta es una historia verdadera sobre un anciano y su constante lucha contra los invasores de sus tierras en la selva de Satipo! …
Note: a true story about an old man and his ongoing struggle with the invaders of his land in the jungle of Satipo!...
Jungle Treachery in Satipo
The old man had fifty acres in the Satipo jungles of Peru that was in 1985, when he came across invaders, squatters on his property. It wasn’t long before they started building structures on his land and assuming it to be their own—out of human greed—thus, they felt it was theirs for the taking (which is not uncommon in Peru).
The old man tried aimlessly with his brother, to talk the invaders out of their quest to take over his land, for the government was of little use, or for that matter, protection. If anything, they were for hire at a lesser amount than the value of the land, and thus, could be bought to look the other way for a few dollars. But old man Augusto with his machete met the invaders eyeball to eyeball, shoulder to shoulder, and started a war that cleaned his land of the invading cockroaches, as he called them.
—But it is not always as it seems, is it? for it was not long after, when more invaders appeared, but this time with more gusto, and more perseverance, and more solitude with their fellow invaders to steal the land from the old man. And this time the law of the jungle—the machete—would be of little use.
Instead of paying the old man $7,000-dollars for the land, they paid the Shinning Path, a terrorist group, $1500, to kill the old man, and be done with the whole mess, or insure he would never return.
Hence, it was twilight when they cornered the old man by his one room shack. There, they surrounded him like hungry piranha. They had guns, machetes, and twenty men; they were lighting torches to set his shack on fire, when he found a shadowy pathway that kept him from the sight of the terrorist, thus he walked in the shadow, slowly, until he found himself in the deep of the jungle ; and behind him, his shack in flames.
It was a long walk to the city called Huancayo (in the Mantaro Valley), where his family lived, but he walked it, mile after mile, for a week straight. Upon his arrival, he had found people were asking about him, people he did not know, thus he throw a sack of fruit over a donkey, and through the Andes he rode the donkey, to Lima, Peru. It was a most trying trip, yet he felt safer doing this than remain where he had been, and moved in with his daughter. It would be twenty-years before he’d return, and so he did in 2005, only to find the invaders now had legally protested the absence of the old man, branding him a deserter of his own land, leaving it to waste away, while they cared for it. Thus, the struggle would start again, but this time, his kids, son and daughters were of an age to where they could help him, and his wife, now dead for a few years, whom had tried to keep the land away from the invaders, had put in her will, a portion of the land for each of the several kids. Thus, making the land worth fighting for.
And so my readers, this saga that took place in the jungles of Satipo, is not over yet; but should it occur in my life time, I shall let you know. End
This story was writtn about three years ago, now the land is half sold, and a good portion is being built on. So the essence of the thing might be, try to work around it, with it, through it, whatever, but don't give up.
Spanish Version
Alevosía en la Selva de Satipo
Esta es la historia de un anciano que tenía veinte hectáreas de terreno en la ceja de selva de Perú, en Satipo. Fue en 1985 cuando él descubrió por casualidad a algunos invasores, ocupantes ilegales, en su propiedad. No había transcurrido mucho tiempo desde que ellos habían empezado a construir algunas paredes sobre su terreno, asumiendo esto como propio—por avaricia humana—así, ellos sentían que esto les pertenecía por la fuerza.
Al ver esto el anciano, con su hermano, trató inútilmente de hablar con los invasores para hacerles cambiar sus intenciones de apoderarse de su terreno, ya que las autoridades eran de poca ayuda, o en este caso, de poca protección. Por el contrario, ellos habían sido sobornados por una cantidad de dinero menor que el valor del terreno para hacerse de la vista gorda, y así, ellos no le prestaban atención a este problema. Pero el anciano Augusto con su machete y con la ayuda de su hermano se enfrentó a los invasores, ojo a ojo y empezó una guerra que limpió su terreno de las cucarachas invasoras, como él los llamaba.
Pero no siempre es lo que parece ¿verdad? Porque no pasó mucho tiempo cuando más invasores aparecieron; pero esta vez con mayor entusiasmo, más perseverancia y más solícitos con sus compañeros invasores para robar las tierras del anciano. Y esta vez la ley de la selva—el machete—sería de poca utilidad.
Los invasores, en vez de pagar al anciano siete mil dólares por el costo de su terreno, habían pagado a un grupo terrorista mil quinientos dólares para matar al anciano y, de esta manera, terminar con él, quien era un obstáculo para sus planes de invasión.
Es así que una tarde, en el crepúsculo, los terroristas llegaron a la propiedad del anciano y lo arrinconaron en uno de sus cuartos de su cabaña; allí, ellos los rodearon como pirañas hambrientas. Ellos tenían armas, machetes y eran veinte hombres; ellos, estaban encendiendo antorchas para prender fuego a la cabaña del anciano, pero él a través de un escape encontró un sendero sombrío que lo mantuvo escondido de la vista de los terroristas. Así es como él caminó en la sombra, despacio, hasta que se encontró en la selva; y, detrás de él, su cabaña ardía en llamas.
Era un camino largo desde Satipo hasta la ciudad de Huancayo, donde su familia vivía, pero él caminó este trayecto kilómetros tras kilómetros por una semana entera. A su llegada a Huancayo, él descubrió que había gente preguntando por él, personas que él no conocía. Así que él decidió tomar otro rumbo, él decidió ir a Lima, para lo cual él puso un saco de frutas sobre un burro y a través de Los Andes él cabalgó hacia su nuevo destino. Este fue un viaje muy largo y duro, pero el anciano era fuerte para su edad y además él se sentía más seguro que permanecer en Huancayo.
Pasarían veinte años antes de que él regresara a la Selva de Satipo y así él lo hizo, en el 2005, sólo para encontrar que los invasores ahora legalmente estaban en su propiedad porque habían denunciado su ausencia, tildándolo de desertor de su propio terreno, dejándolo esto para ser utilizado, y que ellos, mientras, se habían hecho cargo de estos.
Y así mis lectores, esta hazaña que tomó lugar en las selvas de Satipo todavía no ha terminado, pero si esto ocurre mientras esté vivo, se los contaré.
Nota: Esta es una historia verdadera sobre un anciano y su constante lucha contra los invasores de sus tierras en la selva de Satipo! …
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