The Reddest of Red Alerts

As Above, So Below

Dec 20. 2012

It had not been a routine sort of sighting. On account of the time and the season, the air controllers had thought at first that it was a Santa Claus prank. But Santa had never shown up on the radar before, and the cigar shaped object did not look like a sleigh.

The Reddest of Red Alerts

It was definitely alien, and since it refused to identify itself, it was no doubt of the illegal variety. But it was traveling far too fast to be any ordinary wetback. By the time that this suspicious craft had crossed the Rio Grande it had slowed down significantly, but its airspeed had still been calculated at about mach 3.

The flight appeared to have originated from somewhere in the Columbian interior. This in itself aroused concern; the only international cargoes that got routed through this territory usually involved guns and narcotics. Air traffic controllers in Oaxaca, Merida, Mexico City and Guadalahara attempted to establish communication on various frequencies, in English, Spanish, French, Portuguese, German, Russian, Chinese, Japanese, and for good measure, Urdu. None of these efforts had produced a response. The Mexican Air Force had scrambled, to challenge this strange object’s right to use Mexican air space. These fighters had been forced down by engine failure before they had gained enough altitude to get a clear picture, but they had managed to radio a warning of the air-space violation to the American bases north of the Rio Grande.

The luck of the United States Strategic Air Command had not been much better. The speeding object seemed to be surrounded by an invisible shield which repulsed their radar signals, their heat seeking missiles, and every other sort of projectile that they could throw at it.

It was the reddest of red alerts. The president of the United States was contacted, and even he was not quite sure what to do.

Waiting for a Chartered Flight

Dr. Payne was sitting in his office, in the penthouse of a high rise structure in Dallas which could only be reached by those who had the correct elevator code, as well as a special key. He had been waiting for a CIA chartered flight to arrive from Guadalajara to Pinal, Oregon with heroin and cocaine, which could be transported to the liberal northeast, and dumped on the gang kids of the cities.

He heard that the commercial air space had been closed down, and fretted about what might happen while the precious cargo in which he had invested sat on a side lane of the International Airport at Monterrey.

If this chartered flight were examined by customs inspectors who were not sufficiently impressed by the credentials of the agents, the world might become aware of just what the Benevolent Committee For Canonization of Franco was trying to accomplish in Latin America.

At this point, Dr. Payne was probably more concerned than the president. The Secretary of State was visiting Cairo, and the president was not willing to interrupt her call to hear just to hear about another UFO incident. Mr. President felt that it was far more important to find out which way the Jolly Green Giant of Egypt would be walking. If that Evergreen College Professor were right, and the New Age of the Mind would become dominant after 2013 – the critical factor might very well be the influence of the dissidents who were being released from Islamic prisons on account of the “Arab” Spring.

One of Mr. President’s most strategic objectives involved the cultivation of an emotional alliance between these former prisoners of conscience, and the Senate and the People of the United States of America. If this alliance could be brought into being, the UFO’s would simply have to wait.

The pilot of the grounded CIA cargo plane shared Dr. Payne’s concern. He agreed – the cargo contained sacred relics which needed to be shielded from profane eyes.

It was time for Dr. Payne to call on his old business partner who goes by different aliases in different countries, but who is commonly referred to by Bible Belt people as “Satan.”

“Remember that contract we signed in 1972?” the little grey devil reminded him. “Do you realize that 40 years have gone by? As you recall, that was a 40-year contract, and we have fulfilled our part of the bargain. It now is time for you to come home with us, so that we can keep you as a pet.”

A Bible-Belt Jesus Sighting

Pastor Ebenezer Mc Grady of the Shreveport Louisiana congregation of Howlers For White Jesus was on his way home when he noticed a rather strange object bobbing about in the sky. When he looked through his binoculars, he could see that it was a middle-age man in a business suit. That man was not hanging from a parachute, but was simply – flying through the air.

The word got out and all of the congregation assembled to look at Jesus flying through the air. Other congregations all through Texas, Louisiana, Arkansas, and Mississippi also were able to observe the levitation of Dr. Payne. At this point the Mother Ship of the Aliens, which had Dr. Payne fixed in a tractor beam, had hidden herself away behind a cloud. All that the people on the ground could see were the contrails of the fighter jets that were rocketing into the stratosphere in order to get a fix on the UFO.

According to the rumor which began to spread among the True Believers on the ground, the Second Coming of Jesus was being intercepted by the military forces of the Zion Occupied Government. By way of damage control, several military helicopters were dispatched to record the event on video and – if it were possible – rescue Dr. Payne from impending abduction. As a result, network television interrupted its regularly scheduled broadcast for coverage of what was given out to be the attempt of a group of Southern Christian extremists to launch their own plastic Jesus. This helium filled, animated Jesus (With brown hair, light skin, and a business suit, of course) was scheduled to fly over the Bible Belt, as a signal for the True Believers to begin their paramilitary operations against ZOG.

Dr. Payne gestured frantically, but the military helicopters were unable to get close enough to throw him a rope. They were able to video, as the operators of the tractor beam turned Dr. Payne unside down and shook him, until his wallet and his cell phone fell out of his pockets. Network television warned all of its watchers that these articles were now the property of NASA, and that anyone who took the wallet home was risking a visit from the FBI.

Encounter With the Fire Marshall

Encounter With the Fire Marshall

April 2, 1994

    Again, Regina and I are seated at her breakfast nook table, when the ghost of Soren Kirkegaard flies in from Denmark to join us.  He introduces himself as the Fire Marshall.

    “If we would be spiritual explorers,” declares Soren, “we must acknowledge that the karmic road is paved with gravel. And if we accept that we are the adopted brothers and sisters of the God Who Died on the Cross, then we must also accept that we shall have our turns to scream and groan when the slaves get flogged.  It’s only those who are too punch-drunk with pain to say no to God, who can win the good race, and gain admission to the House of Lords in Heaven.”

    “You are the one who were the bandit,” Regina critiques. “You were the one who frightened the Church and the State by proclaiming that you had been led to establish, not a new theology, but a division of natural science which would examine social parasites!”

    “I wished to lead the people of sincere devotion away from the decadent castles of Ludvig, so that they could build the kind of defenses which would be of some actual value in resisting the coming tide of bestiality,” the Fire-Marshal answers. “The masses of so-called Christians will not join me in this effort, because their leaders have too much regard for a fine purse. But when they recognize the nature of the plague which is encroaching, and which is carried by the amiable mediocrity of popular Christianity, the few who are healers shall appreciate my vision of the Vanishing Point. Quite simply, we must be able to look at everything from both unbelief and faith, so that we may develop a hyperbolic relationship to the True and Unattainable Ideal.

    “Once we have developed that sort of quiet and inward relationship, we shall be able to appreciate the potential oil wells that lie beneath so many avocado ranches and other small and independent farms. We also shall appreciate that certain resources must remain potential, until the rapacity of certain economic systems have been chastised. You see it every day, but you refuse to look. You say that God takes care of his own, but what happens when the smallholders try to hold back the developers’ bulldozers? Of course, their petit-romanticism is too small for the world, and therefore doomed for failure – but is the more efficient System of the Beast that drives it out, any sort of real improvement?”

 

Encounter with the Real Peoples' Grandfather

Behold another voice, whose visible image at the table appears as a scowling tribal face, a mask carved rather crudely out of a log:

      “Before you go on and on in your discussion of what is or is not appropriate for a Christian, I believe that I have a right to ask of you one little question. By a Christian do you mean a Lutheran or a Methodist – which is to say, one whose life is programmed by the ideological structions of the mercantile idealism of Europe? Or does being a “Believer” imply a relationship with the sense of Prophesy which you recognize in Jesus the Christ, but which so-called primitive peoples also see in the teachings of Medicine People like Deganiwidah or the White Buffalo Woman?”

      “Ho there!” chuckles the Fire Marshall. “I now see what it is I longed to seek through travel, but despaired of finding on account of the thorn in my flesh. That is not a little thing you ask of me. I know that our Western Civilization is going down, and that on this account the man of discretion is likely to be the solitary.”

      “But love lurks in the woods,” insists Regina. “Your world is knocked out of equilibrium, because the weight of large estates and big crimelord houses puts everything out of balance. You can’t have love while you are trying to shoot a gatling gun. It is only when you can begin to appreciate the inspiration in the flowing water, that love has a chance to survive.”

      “In order to become a people,” grins the crudely carved wooden mask, “you’ve got to develop traditions of courtesy, which are founded on the awareness of past inspirations. Or you can act like the Crude Oil Brothers, who are always bringing in their mercenaries to take all the valued resources away from the little brown men. It’s just like your domestic violence problem. Whether it’s gas and oil rights or the rights to favors in bed – your so-called Christians have shown the world that they are not to be trusted. Or at least, not until you have begun to let your women have a chance to civilize you.”

Spider-Woman and the Smoking Chimney

    “Look at the board on which the cruel game is played,” declares The Happy Hunting Ground’s attorney-general. “Look how the rules all have been re-written by the God of Jealousy. You turn everything in life into an all-out struggle, and then, to make sure no one else can win, you change the rules as you go. For this reason, we’re convicting Jealousy of High Treason. Has the Felon Angel anything to plead?”
    “I don’t think he has any answer,” witnesses the Fire Marshall, “because Felon Apollyon knows that anything he declares may be used by the prosecution. And, as the Fire Marshal, I have got to take the Prosecutor’s side. I have seen too many instances of arson, and all of the evidence seems to indicate that the Indo-European Gods have not only managed a hostile takeover of Christianity, but that they are using the resulting consortium as a pretext for burning and imprisoning women.”

    “Let us examine the scene of the crime from the perspective of the Back Door,” imparts the Crudely Notched Mask. “Then, I believe, you shall see how the Guardian of the Ice and the Oceans would look at what has been coming down ever since Europe’s so-called enlightenment. Ever since the end of the Dark Ages, we have noticed that more and more hot smoke has been rising up from Europe’s chimneys. At first, it was just blacksmiths building fires so they could manufacture swords and armor for the knights.
    “The kings in those days thought they owned it all. What they did not understand, as they looked out on their Large Estates from the Manor Houses and Castles they farmed out to their vassals, was that their conquest of the common people was only the first stage in a process of avalanching entropy. The kings will try to develop enough prosperity to satisfy the people, and hope to settle down to a 500 year long Elizabethan Age, where gentlemen from varied nations shall duel upon the Spanish Main.
    “The Spider-Woman who spun and wove this fine tapestry died, and was remembered for the next 500 years as a lady who got tired of torturing her boyfriends and became a little old maid. The next kings were to find that Elizabeth’s peace could not last 50 years, let alone 500. For one thing, there were now by far too many chimneys, through which more and more smoke was rising up to disfigure the ozone. Beyond that, the Royal Privateers were becoming Disloyal Rats, and financing their treasonous aims through the most dishonorable sorts of commerce. No Crusader at the walls of Jerusalem has ever smitten a Saracen with such venom, as the Masters of the European Chimneys now inflicted on Africa.
    “You-all have studied the Great Bourgeois Rebellions in High School. What your instructors neglected to mention, was that these rebellions were simply the turbulence that was being generated by more and more smoke that was going up more and more chimneys. About the same time that Kings and their loyal retainers started getting their heads chopped off, the chimneys began reaching a critical mass, and chimneys started building chimneys. It wasn’t just the armory blacksmith anymore – now any little hamlet with a mill had to have a chimney too, so that a boiler could be stoked till it produced live steam.
    “And now the boilers with their chimneys were starting to walk over the land and across the Great Waters. Wherever these walking chimneys would travel, stationary chimneys would rise up to service the traveling chimneys. We have arrived at the point at which the Chief Engineers will try to stop this proliferation of chimneys, and will find out that they cannot. They will try to spread the alarm that all of the chimneys built since 1980 are united in a Communist conspiracy, and that any new chimney must be licensed by an old chimney – but in the end they will fail. We, who are the Spirits on the Northern Mountains, could have informed them long ago, just what an avalanche is all about – but the Chief Engineers were always too proud to listen.”