BEFORE THE DELUGE

To be continued back to Ocean City, Maryland, summer of '74 when I'd rented a condo for the season in search of the Real American Dream. With friends visiting and enjoying the good life, it was less Margaritaville than Frozen Pina Colada Land! We were waiting for the denouement, being the resignation of the President who George "W" Bush makes look like a Boy Scout. Richard Milhouse Nixon did not disappoint and things changed (right Buzz!) on August 9, 1974. It was my most delirious summer and then some, back where it all began! I had worked hard, gone to college at night as a Veteran and earned a real time of peace of mind with no worries. Now, it seems so distant but back in the day, everything was on track to go right or so this budding scholar/party animal so I thought. Talk about rude awakenings, but I did have several more good years and I put them to a use I can be proud of and still reference the effort in current terms. We should learn from every day's experience to draw on how we may respond to tomorrow's. Who knew by 2008, we would have trained monitors responsible for viewing every living American’s communication and corrupting them if their content red flagged attention and that key words would trigger the eye to prevent popular information from becoming responsible “common” information. The likes of which if disseminated accurately, would foment an unprecedented animosity with a proper and correct response, in defense of our right to privacy, never witnessed by those who in secret, as JFK warned in his April, 27th 1961 speech to the Association of American Journalists? I wrote a brief article surrounding this ominously prophetic speech in REASON AND FREE INQUIRY. Forty-five years ago, as a ninth grade student, our principal spoke over the P. A. system and announced the shooting in Dallas and results. Living in College Park, I grew up with kids whose parents were either educators or employed by our government just twenty minutes down U.S. Route 1, at the time allegedly the world’s most traveled highway. Some of the parents worked in the intelligence community or State Department and would brag (read exaggerate) on what they knew about inside dope. Several would directly express the sentiments of their parents in their conservative disdain for President Kennedy. When the final bell rang an hour after the news, there’s always a rush in the flow of students to get their weekend needs and catch the bus, etc….One boy I knew from my neighborhood will always remember my response to his running down the steps hooting about, “…they got him…”. I tagged the son of a bitch with an upper cut that he probably feels to this day. I never heard anymore about it, maybe because our Principal was Catholic and JFK was his hero. It took a long time for this national tragedy to sink in and my grandmother had told me that “things weren’t right”. But I could feel it myself and then I found Harold Weisberg’s self printed book, WHITEWASH, on consignment at the off campus book store. This was to be the first of a series of books which were incredibly footnoted from the twenty-six volumes supporting the THE WARREN COMMISSION REPORT, with its evidence, testimony and exhibits and explicitly contradicted all conclusions to include the final verdict of the possibility of one person being physically able to achieve this act. For an average student, who would have no home save for his grandmother, he began working after school to have the material items his contemporaries possessed. Studying? Grades? What’s that? I barely got by, but I was an avid reader and by ninth grade had exhausted the City and County Library collection of Astrophysics/Astronomy and Science Fiction books, so I was somewhat prepared, mind you no one can realistically
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be prepared for the wealth of knowledge and writing style of Mr. Weisberg. You want to learn? Pay close attention. But in 1974, an attempt to have Congress openly review the Warren Commission findings was the farthest thing from this hard working, harder partying kid. I deserved a Dr. Hunter Thompson described trip through the heart of the “American Dream” and I was getting it. Sleep in, stumble down to the beach with a cold one to play a pick up football game and check out what few babes lived way up in the nearly deserted North end of Ocean City. The 1973 Oil Embargo had caused a recession and all construction was on hold, so save for the few inhabitants in this desolated area, we were fortunately isolated. Good thing too, because there was no one to complain about the hellacious parties we through. I had a private dock on the inlet and I had my own personal social director, Captain Del who knew everybody from the grocery store he worked to the life guards and Phillips Crab House girls and where the “A” list parties were each night, if not at #13 California Avenue, Ocean City’s annex for my I Eta Thi Fraternity. There are so many daily stories of stuff we pulled, it’s worth a laugh book. Even the law students who worked as supplemental Law Enforcement Officers each summer, loved the atmosphere. I believe I went through at least a hundred friends and their entourages, as guests during the Memorial Day to Labor Day joy ride. Always room for one more and too much is never enough! I remember most of it, I think!?
I will always have that time which earned me a short termed nickname, “Last Legs Lamore”. That fall I earned the entrance letter to finish my education at my life long dream at the University of Maryland. Opening that letter could not give me more pride and pleasure and know my long gone Mother would be proud of my accomplishment. I had come so far from being a know it all, to one who needed to learn. From working as an 18 year old on the old Post Office dock, envying at 8:00 A.M., the sorority girls walking up to class on campus in1967, I was now scheduled to be a Junior in January of 1975, at my beloved college and could not have imagined what I was about to engage in. Pardon my indulgement, but I am relating my experience as the regular guy with the dream, not to be confused with a real winner like Barack Obama, who had real influence and encouragement. I’ve always been rudderless to the degree, that is until I found myself making waves my first semester.
I witnessed an interview today of an intern at Parkland Memorial Hospital who was the third Doctor to enter Trauma Room One and , “…see his hero with a lethal wound but still agonal. I treated a suction wound in his neck with a breathing technique (tracheostomy) and recognized a massive frontal head wound with part of his skull missing”. He also said he could eliminate a conspiracy and that day he lost, “…his hero and hero to his contemporaries…”. It has been difficult to accept my country has allowed this lie to prevail for all of these years and yield the opportunity to have the Bush, Cheney, Rove crowd to perpetrate the 911 incident to gain a political agenda of Atlas proportions in order to control the last years before the consequences of December 12, 2012 arrive. I have written in depth as a neophyte about what probably lies awaiting our world as we know it and those who have knowledge way beyond my comprehension. How does one fight a battle to seek coalition to try and minimize what danger lies in store for us as predicted by so many, unbeknownst to so few. Knowledge can be a blessing or a curse and carries a responsibility to act upon it. How ignorant and blissfully indulgent was I in the summer of 1974. How much and how far I’ve come in connecting dots I
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never believed could have existed. I put off reading responsible criticism of 9-1-1 as long as I could because I did not want the burden of knowing details of the falsity of events. I was finally brought to begin responsible review of what is obviously another mammoth lie and treasonous act of murder and insurrection. Since nine-one-one, the Bush government has virtually destroyed our Constitution and Civil Rights. It has allowed the slow and deliberate dismantling of our economic infrastructure and fiduciary system. A direct response to who might still retain what commodible goods for trade and survival. We are now in a depression worse than the 1929 fiasco with huge banks and corporations to include all three Detroit Auto makers asking Congress for loans to bailout and salvage their existence. In short, the country in its entirety is being undermined in the most subversive of fashions by those who believe they were meant to live after the Deluge. Look for the simplest solution and it’s easy to see without looking too far…not much is really sacred! Why else would grand Ma’s Da Vinci is sold for chump change, or the price of oil was gouged for as long as the market would stand it, or all of our jobs being outsourced to peeeplewhootaawklikegrittingsmumshoze??? We have a fire sale going on and I’m a million miles from that poor senseless hard working College Park Kid who got himself an all expenses real vacation to Ocean City Maryland and two year later a week in Jamaica with the biggest mistake in his life, EVE! I can still sense the bitter sweet taste and hear the Siren song of, “…here, take a bite. You’ll love it!”. The big lie is a killer when you find your truth hanging in front of you like the dark side saying, “Hey it was good, No?”. NO it wasn’t. “You felt like your guts were gone and you’re life had been looted clean of all of all that it once held dear.”. DANGEROUS DAN MCGREW (Robert W. Service) And now, after plodding along trying to get your life back, you realize you are one of the few people on the planet aware of …..Pop quiz! What do you do?
Still dots to connect, but 2009 will yield us more than comprehension and how we respond will decide what, if any future we shall have for our berth on this beautiful planet. It is time for attention to factual detail, ego’s and myth set aside, to collaborate an equation to overcome the Group X version of control.
Yes Virginia, there is a God. Your little (and big) friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except what they see and even then most will not accept what is obvious. They think that nothing can be which is no comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, are little or used only to the capacity society allows. In this great universe (not just) of ours, man is a mere insect, in her intellect as compared with just the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge through experience. Yes Virginia, there is a GOD. Its essence exists as certainly as the morning bird song, the purple mountains’ majesty, our fruited plain, the shining blue ocean, love, generosity, devotion, those who have give their last full measure, that we shall be free and those who stand in the way of tyranny which allows the kindness which abounds from the hardest of hearts and give to your life its highest beauty and joy in the shortest of an eye blink which will remain seen for generations to come, GOD willing. Alas, how dreary would the world be without the awful grace and forgiveness of Him. It would be as dreary if there were no Virginia (or children to be amazed by). There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry no song, no romance to make tolerable this miserable existence. We would have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight of the material world.
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The external light with which childhood fills this world would be extinguished ad infinitem.Not believe in GOD? You might as well not believe in Santa Claus! Why leave any cookies and milk out for the ole geiser and try and stay up near the chimney to sneak a peek? Even if you did not see Santa or God, what would that prove? The gifts (for the privileged) and all the other existential aforementioned would still be. The most real things in our dear little corner of this great Universe are those that neither children nor grown can see. We may not have seen Santa or God, but that’s no proof they aren’t there. We’ve seen their work yet nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are sight unseen and unseeable in our life. You tear apart the baby’s rattle and try to see what makes the noise inside. It is no longer. There is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man (woman) or even all of our United strength that ever lived could change. Only by faith and the poetry, romance, loyalty and love it creates, can push aside that curtain and view the supernal beauty, glory and grace beyond. Is it all real? Ah Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else more real and binding than our Creator. No God? How quaint and wrong can one be than to not comprehend this? I pray for these people devoid of hope of the now and our tentative posterity. Yes Virginia, there is a real and true GOD who abides in the light we bask in every moment of the life its essence bequeathed us. As Dennis the Menace said in his evening prayer, one cartoon, “Please take care of yourself, I don’t know what we’d do without you!’ I still enjoy the rendering of a conversation I had with my father driving his ole Singer Sewing Machine Company panel truck with Mom sitting next to him during my 5-6 Beaver Cleaver treasured years (Mom passed with cancer in my 9th year) and me riding shotgun back to Warner Robbins to our home from Macon where he worked. It was near Christmas and I must’ve been seven. I hit them with the inevitable question, “Is there really a Santa Claus?”. They paused, swapped stares and decided since I got a globe on my birthday (June 25th, 6 even months betwixt the event, I had a better perspective on the strategic probability. No they said. It’s time to fess up. I paused and then asked, “ How about the Easter Bunny?”. No, it’s made up. “Well, how about the Tooth Fairy?” No, it’s the adult ploy to get your baby teeth out. After a moment of heavy reflection, I inquired, “Hoe about Jesus?”. I swear I heard a pin drop. They turned white and about gagged. What in the world has come over this chile? My Mother, bless her heart, comforted me with a hug and encouragingly said, “ Darling, He is the one thing you can always really believe in.”. Nuff said.
Now for the clincher. A L I E N S ? No, I didn’t know about them to ask. But in 1974, my friend John, who spoke excellent Spanish and would visit an acquaintance in the hills of Columbia for some exportable snow related to me his sighting of an unidentifiable craft which flew like nothing he could imagine. It whooshed and turned so fast he could not possibly determine its shape nor size. That’s when I realized there is indeed something more to UFO’s than nuts and kooks. In 1996, I read a book by Lt.Col. Philip Corso named ROSWELL, THE DAY AFTER. Corso was an under the radar liaison to the ranking member, Senator Strom Thurmond, of the Senate Committee on Defense and held office in a small Pentagon space with several file cabinets containing extremely sensitive information and material relating to the Roswell event in July 1947. He had always been in the Intelligence loop and was a trusted friend of Korean hero General Arthur Trudeua who assigned him the task of identifying which Public Contactor was working on concepts he felt might benefit from ultra secret reverse engineering of a
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specific item in his care and designating them to tinker. He had the trust of Thurmond and a handful of other Congressional members for black funding, no questions asked. The military benefited immensely from his keen ability to associate and after 10 to 15 years of use and/or improvement, which evolved into popular knowledge of a non-specific commodity, the contractor was freed to morph the technology into an item for public marketing. As in, “Who knew?”. This is where patent pending allowed the massive reward of monetary benefit from their patriotic discretionary work Senator Thurmond gave the book credibility by writing a glowing for word about Corso being a leading patriot. The day after the book was published, SenatorThurmond was encouraged to retract his written complements which only served to give the book extreme credibility. Lt. Colonels and Lt. Commanders do the under the table little noticed leg work for their respective branches. So there it was in a nutshell and I am left speechless. In a religious vein, The Vatican’s chief astronomer, The Reverend Jose Gabriel Funes was quoted in May 2008 as saying, “… the vastness of the universe means it is possible there could be other forms of life outside earth. How can we rule out that life may have developed elsewhere?”. The Reverend further stated science, especially astronomy, does not contradict religion and why should we not talk about an extraterrestrial brother? If the Papacy allows (read condones) this statement, be ready to meet MY FAVORITE MARTIAN ! Obviously, this divergence of opinion has come to accept what I am ready to spell out for you as I touched on in AMERICA’S CLARION CALL. We have to resolve a very age old disparate geographical oral and written history with alien interaction and the same for 5,000 plus year old calendars which all predict future events borne out of various unconnected civilizations and cultures to be the same exact day as end of earthly time, December 21, 2012.
At U.of Md. In 1976, the Anthropology Department offered a course on ecological limitations, (I’ve forgotten the catchy name but a girl I knew insisted I take it) which was so well received, the U. had to expand the space to an auditorium. We had already had Earth Day One on May 1st, 1971, which the D.C. Government spent thousands of bucks to clean up after the hundred thousand or so participants. Word got out and if I’m not mistaken, the 1972 event went by clean. Collective unconscious or conscience? You tell me, I just write this sh….! The course was my awakening to limited resources and population capacity for our little blue rock and that nature doesn’t leave any trash! What a rude awakening to the concept of Horace Greeely’s newspaper about Manifest Destiny and his excoriation of “Go West young man, go west!”. Convert them savages or kill’em, whichever, it’s our land to be had, they’re just visitors (THE GOOD SHEPHARD in reverse) I grew up watching John Wayne and Erroll Flynn sing GARY OWEN and march of as Custer to win one for the Gipper. Get them redskins or they’ll be voting, just like the “Nigras”. Well, bury my heart at Wounded Knee also. The big LIE is alive and well in Hollywood. What’s wrong with all this mythology they taught us in school? Try transparency and it doesn’t resonate well for modern SARAH PALIN colloquialisms.
I am so looking forward to working with all my fellow governors on change and being progressive to keep things our American way, particularly those states where there are really true Americans who are sooo devoted to being sooo patriotic and wanting change like ROE v. WADE and other Congressional cases as opposed to those in the state of Africa where there is too many kids to feed. It’s sooo important to care about what is
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important for global peace in vetting terrorism to an end and securing our national security by closing our borders and opening the gates for those who desire the American Dream and help us obtain these ideas, which by the way, we are working on, as I speak!. As for 2012, I would obey a shout out from God if He told me to run for President or run for cover on December 21…ooops, I’m not suppose to mention that Mayan Calendar thing or the Aliens we deal with. Can you scratch that please and don’t tell Jack Cafferty I goofed on y’all.!
Unfortunately, the Bush Doctrine and the McCain defeat have a common thread running through the very fabric. McCain was given Palin to guarantee losing. If he had chosen someone like Louisiana’s Governor, Piyush “Bobby” Jindal, a young intelligent new comer whose presence on the ticket would have created a crap shoot. Those in the know don’t really want a Republican to be Chief Executive when 12/21/12 rolls around so Barack will be the bad guy if the philosophical approach to it does not change. He will be responsible for not having a plan to limit damage, havoc and institute Marshall Law to maintain a semblance of order for as long as possible. Bush’s OZ created nine-one-one to gain staunch Constitutional legal control for any and all contingencies. Without delineating the massive amount of deliberate abuse of power and criminal activity and having the “Vice” President as a virtual dictator, suffice it to say the rationale was to garner all things deemed necessary to possess, for those who believed they were meant to survive the DELUGE. Just look at it as the simplest solution to the bizarre, unchecked and unprecedented actions of our Federal Government. For those of you who have not read the documentation I lean this reality on you, don’t worry, you’ll be hearing enough of -the December 21st, 2012 scenario(s) and the Mayan Calendar and the Sumerian written experience with extraterrestrials and the huge effect on homo erectus to date soon enough!!!.I started writing this chronicle with Jackson Browne singing, “Whoa people, look around you, the signs are every where. You’ve left it for some body other than you to be the ones to care(!)”. We are all in this together. Today is the 31st of December, my dear Mother’s birthday. If I had only had her presence for a few more year I can only speculate how much more I would have accomplished from her divine Christian charitable guidance. I have so many coincidences to relate post mortem, relating to her. I thank God for the short time I did share with her. Perhaps in the overall confluence of reality and destiny(as opposed to fate) I still can make some poignant noise for good and ever. I have shown some similarity in this unconventional campaign and that of the distraught tangled web of 1968 to provoke connected sorrow and challenge. The aught years are so predicated upon the ‘60’s to an implausible yet exact result. The dots people, the dots. Same players or their protégé’s, weaving the tangled travesty of confusing and abusing the American people for their own deviously deadly ends continue. The audacity of hope is of a black man with the courage of Teddy Roosevelt, the comfort of FDR and the charismatic vision of JFK. He appears to be the real thing and stands a chance of walking that thin line to save us from Group X and our own delusions. Irony is the fuel of time which burns our existence. Pray he sees around the learning curve and is able to influence those who can, to do the right thing…or at the very least, give peace and humanity a chance to prove we also can. Barack Obama just may be the holistic catalyst to bridge all the broken bridge of our milineums of manipulation into participation. Pray the broken bridges of our millineums of manipulation morphe into participation. Pray.