From: Alfred Lehmberg <Lehmberg@snowhill.com> Date: Wed, 06 May 1998 05:01:59 -0500 Fwd Date: Wed, 06 May 1998 07:16:43 -0400 Subject: Alfred's Odd Ode #245 Apology to MW #245 (For May 6, 1998) I heard some dolphins thinking through a treasured friend of mine, the meaning swimming in and out of focus. You think you understand it then so quickly it is found that the *knowing* has a different kind of locus. Your top is inside out, and you find there's room for doubt, and the meaning flatly crumbles in your hand. You are lost and incomplete, disadvantaged, non replete, and the values that you're clutching you're not built to understand. What follows? An example of a dolphin's special thinking. A look inside the process of its mind. It's not what you're expecting, and you're wrong if you're detecting understanding in the pictures that you find. ~~~ Simplicity, eccentricity, glove feeling all the space. Pair and touch, and swim for lunch -- the pleasure of our grace. Free and clear, and one large fear I spread out in the pod, the girls provide solidity, it's them that talk to _*_. Murky water has a clarity I can see in ultra sound, and a body is more water makes my lover more profound. I see undulating muscle, and she's a beating of a heart. Her brains aglow with energy, her fins a work of art. Her bones are more arousing than the canyons out beyond, and her presence is a blessing -- I am much more than mere fond. The mindless ones are not about to suffer any folksters. The clueless ones that live upout are scary, crying youngsters. A mystery are these *human-beings* that stay in the above, made captive by their *fingers* they are lost, depraved, benumbed. The water's getting deeper, and we wonder what they'll do. I hope they don't move out with _us_, unless of course they'll grok the blue. And frabble in the narb way, or mittle in the greeb, and never, never slap their nill to growl a hapless dweeb. Wouldn't it be rapture if they hammeled out their cans and then leedled in the brimy with their vornals in their blams? Is it feebled artful noffle? Or do they plother other falien . . . ~~~ . . .And then right here you have to stop, the thoughts are just too alien! They're accusing and they challenge what we humans hold so dear. They see us as deficient, It's _us_, friend, that they fear. It's us, wrong minded and obscene; it's us to waste resources; it's us to sow our disrespect, and tack the errant courses. It's us to foul their briny homes; filth eats them all alive! It's us to catch them in our nets then hate them as despised. And still they won't molest us, or give out like they get. Even Orcas won't ingest us though we swam with baby seals, yet! The point's we don't communicate with folks some still think fish! Some humans even eat them -- a refined and genteel dish. Expand the illustration to the folks just down the street -- only slightly better grokking 'til you smell their *dirty* feet. Now we impose our motives, Diz, on creatures from deep space. We would box them into category, we'd assign to them their place. We, that know so little, would pretend to make distinction; we with faith that is untested would provoke our own extinction. We would call them *bad* or *good*, and write for them their ethics. We'd pretend to understand them, and predict, for them, aesthetics. We would make pronouncements on their conduct or abjectness. We would place a value on the methods of their *madness*. We would squeeze a dollar from our wan pontification, and mock a search for honest truth so lost to infestation! We can't speak to human beings that are the very same, but we'd humanize an alien, and ascribe to them our blame. We make them strangely subject to the whims of our psychology, they sell our cars, machines that wash -- they watch our weird philosophy. We're, sure, our most dishonest when we deal amongst ourselves. How in hell can we decide _their_ program; please, do tell! Lehmberg@snowhill.com Especially when no real looking is going on -- except of course by an accepted minority of honest, talented, and concerned individuals, apart from the mainstream, found in an ignorable ufologist fringe. . . Still -- it's jammed up our nose in peculiar ways at every conceivable opportunity, and somebody is *paying* to keep the possibility alive. But a safe possibility -- a controllable, and therefore deniable one. Restore John Ford. -- Explore the Alien View? http://www.fortunecity.com/roswell/arecibo/46/ "I cleave the heavens, and soar to the infinite. What others see from afar, I leave far behind me." - Giordano Bruno, while burning at the fundamentalist's stake.
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