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You would think, that this is about the so-called Moderats. 'Middle Rats' is a good synonym for 'Moderats'.
However, I am talking about the Middle Managers of the Democrat/Homosexual sucking arm of that bloated corpse known as the Satanic and Queer Lying-Dead; the grotesque capital of which is the Hideous Boston Horrid Zone.
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IN THE MIDDLE OF THE SQLD – AND IN DEEP RATTAGE.
[[There are no pictures with this message. and they are not needed, unless you want to see photographs of two-legged rats. In that case, visit the Iowa Repulsiveness (formerly Republican) website.]]
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"We should have killed him there (Boston). We would have owned the world by now ... (curse) ... this failure is permanent ... (pause) ... with the way he is doing it."
That was said in North Chicago, at a 'blue collar' work site which I was 'visiting'. By a Middle Rat to a stupid brat. I was not supposed to be listening. I am never supposed to be listening. Human Resistance, is never supposed to be
listening.
I go to so many 'blue-collar' work sites, that I inevitably hear the latest babble and party-line of the Democrat/Homosexuals. Also, I am never at any one site for long, and I still hear so many blurbs and excerpts and entire hateful conversations from the Middle Rats, and their pathetic slaves. So much so, that if you think about it -- how much more of such drivel and tripe is being said every day -- that I do not hear?
After I left, I put this overheard conversation down as a 'surprising confession'. One does not usually hear any confessions from any SQLD whatsoever.
The Middle Rat was typical for its kind; aggressive, tall, medium weight, forties, demonstrative, thin face, no beard or mustache, brown hair covered mostly by a blue cap, dark work clothes with jacket, brown boots, Caucasian with a standard Democrap facial attitude (ugly from the inside out). The brat it was talking to was a slightly smaller version in all respects. A Wannabe-Middle-Rat.
The scared little brat was truly in a state of perplexity. Its complaint was that nothing was working. It complained that since everything was a lie, and the Truth was now being told, the entire replacement was ruined. At first I thought they were blabbing about all of the SQLD Media Lies that the so-called Homosexuals and the Homosexual/ACLU made up. Carefully crafted, yet obvious, lies to be used for the brainwashing of Satan Tubers, and any Humans who are unknowing enough to be one of their victims, by watching the Satan Tube.
But, as I reviewed the entire conversation, its tones and its settings, a much more horrible explanation revealed itself. They were talking about the lies that the SQLD had said to them. Not about the lies that they had been saying to their intended victims.
They could not care less who or what did not like the lies they were saying to the Human Species. What they care about, is the lies that the SQLD Masters have been saying to them!
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If it is ghastly – it is SQLD.
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Middle Managers always edit the Truth, and try to poison it with their lies. The intention is to make Truth appear to be Death, to their Middle Voter/Followers.
The daily routine of an SQLD Middle Manager is one of continual lying, while pretending to be a friend of those fools that it lies to; and the pursuit of advancing more lies, while trying to prevent and destroy any Truth.
Routines such as:
Telling their dupes not to watch films that reveal the Truth.
Telling their idiots not to read websites that reveal the Truth.
Telling their zombies not to listen to AM radio stations that are Human.
Telling their patsies not to read any books or literature that is Human and Truthful.
Telling their morons not to talk to or believe what any Human says.
Examining the brains of their followers on a daily basis for any signs or traces that Human Values and Human Virtues and Human Decencies have been encountered – causing confusion and doubt – doubt about the INVINCIBLE SQLD !!!!
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Where are these Middle Rats? Where does one find those rodents?
Answer: Companies, Unions, Bars, Blocks, Protest Rallies, Group Meetings, Social Clubs – wherever middle quantities of unwitting dupes can be controlled and brainwashed by one operative of the SQLD Propaganda Machine.
Not just coincidentally, it is the same modus operandi that was used to spread Communism throughout Russia, by the Bolsheviks.
Do the Middle Managers/Propagandists know that their crimes warrant a severe penalty?
Answer: Don't ask – they don't want to think about that.
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Desperation is taking hold of the SQLD Middle Managers. Unable to repent, remain quiet and seek resolution, they are displaying their loud stupidity and futile schemes, instead.
The Middle Rats are back to gesticulating, and contorting, and shouting with ludicrous insanity – just like they did before the 2008 Stolen Election. They think it worked then, by frightening the 'General Public' – so why should it not work now?
Remember, their Propaganda Leaders (at the Crackheads and Nasty Neuters (CNN) channel) say that Human Resistance does not exist. And, we are discussing pathetic creatures that worship the Crackheads and Nasty Neuters as Gods. Or, used to.
Too late to jump the sinking ship -- right on time -- the Middle Rats are far too stupid, far too late.
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Now, the Crackheads and Nasty Neuters (CNN) are under orders to pretend that they are on the Human side, and all of what they did against the Human Species (since the first day that their TV ANUS was opened up, on its own channel) – is to be forgotten and ignored – By All Of The Satan Tubers With 15 Second Memory Spans.
Do you think that puts the Middle Managers in a tight spot?
Answer: Yes, indeed!
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Now, with the Truth about the SQLD coming out, the Middle Managers are having to beguile and threaten and demand obedience to Evil, with loud voices.
Middle Rats see their Idiot/Followers as serfs and servants anyway. And, is in not traditional to shout and beat on serfs and servants? No?
But, what drives the Middle Managers of the SQLD? Why are they so feverish about trying to regain the glory and domination which they thought they had stolen after the 2008 Ripoff?
Answer: Middle Managers crave the ego satisfaction of having Idiot/Followers obey them. Plus, they love the paybacks from the SQLD Candidates, like 'Il Duce Branstad', which are quite rewarding.
Without lackeys and followers, the Middle Rats are only failed and bitter liars; cast into uncertainty, and fearing Human reprisals. For them, unlike the Voter/Followers, it is indeed too late. No repentance from them is expected, or wanted. From them we just want confessions and punishments, of them.
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The Middle Managers are telling their dupes and idiots – "It is YOU, he is talking about! It is YOU, he wants punished!"
This is a very recurrent theme and valued programming routine amongst the Scared Middle Managers; who pour it over their Stupefied Voter/Followers like a Dung and Honey Syrup.
And, it is Wrong. It is the Liars, Perverters, Propagandists, Genociders and Masters that are the Primary Targets.
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Middle (job level, block level, street level, club level or tweet level) Managers are mostly motivated by the incentives of money, position, perceived status, and whatever social power they can gain from having a 'following'.
The SQLD and Homosexual/Democrats, with all of their lies and agendas, are just the 'cause celebre' (or required backdrop and talking points) for the Middle Rats to use in their pursuit of, and thirst for, Middle Power and Middle Esteem and Middle Houses and Middle Cars etc.
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If the SQLD Propaganda Machine and the Democrat/Homosexuals change their lies ((like the Crackheads and Nasty Neuters (CNN) are trying to do)), then the Middle Rats have to change their rap and pretenses of Middle Mastery. They must change their rhetoric and lies about all things within their Middle Domains, accordingly.
And yet, they think this will be achieved easily, after loud insistence for obedience.
After all. Doesn't everybody, have only a 15 second memory?
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When the schemes of the SQLD and their Homosexual/Democrats fail, on such a large scale as November 2, 2010; the orders go out to all of those 'Middle Losers' to instill fear and terror (about Human reprisals) in the hearts and minds of all followers.
For two reasons:
1. Keep them too scared to want to be, or think of being Human again.
2. Keep them close to the SQLD, with fear. Keep them corralled together like scared sheep, with the Middle Rats pretending to be the sheepdogs, and portraying themselves as Protector/Managers.
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Enough about the Middle Managers. What about the Masters?
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WHY ARE THE SQLD MASTERS AFRAID OF HISTORY?
Why is so much effort and money being spent to smear and trash all of the Real Human History of the Human Species, by producing tons of falsified and perverted and tainted and twisted versions of History, complete with many outright fabrications?
Answer: Because the Real History reveals the Trail of Sewage. The comparison reveals 'The Trail of Sewage', which in turn reveals the 'False Histories of Humanity', that were deliberately created to allow Satanists and Queers to avoid and ignore the fact that they are nothing more than Anti-Human Dung and Disease and Genociders.
The Masters do not want any bothersome and disobedient Truth in the minds of anyone whom they intend to control. Since Human History is diametrically opposed to their awful plans and deeds, Human History must conveniently cease to exist. Genocide – CNN Style.
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We know that the latest 'Grand Idea' of the SQLD Masters is to outlast us and prevail in Time, expecting us to become divided and weak. The latest attempts by the loser Democraps of Demo-Iowa, to overturn and cheat the Will of the People of Iowa; who have recently voted out three of the Monkey Judges, is just another example of the dastardly plans of the ever-nasty SQLD Masters. And, they have a backup dastardly plan in the works right now.
Evil is eternal to Demons and the SQLD – and 'The People' have a History of being very divided and competitive and easily fooled and led astray – seldom following any course or path of Goodness for very long.
Take away their Real History, and the Humans will not be able to realize that they are following the same old path to ruination; by not cooperating and by not presenting a Mutual Defense against the SQLD.
If the Human Species has no Real Truth about its own History, it can easily be duped into thinking that it is wrong, and biased and bigoted and circumspect – and should therefore be submissive and obedient to the demands of the so-called Moderats/Democrats/Homosexuals/Liberals/Black Radical Females/Demented White Females (DWC)/ Sheep Molesters/Child Molesters (et al).
I mean, after all, talk about hiding the Truth, and Revisionist History -- that worthless Commercial Crone (Ann Coulter), is now saying that we are all bigots. That thing has now revealed itself for all to see. It is now quite obvious to every Human, that 'Coulter' gets its best revenues and biggest gains from spouting propaganda for whomever it thinks is the Underdog of the Moment. Or in this case, the Underdog of Eternity.
I say that for two reasons:
1. Genocide is Eternal. Once Extinct – Always Extinct.
2. Because, we do not intend to ever allow the SQLD to dominate, or think they dominate, the Human Species again. Now, that bitch is advertising for and propagandizing for the Satanic and Queer Lying-Dead. End of program. Terminate all dialog.
The SQLD Masters got over the fence, and now she is worthless.
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HURRAY FOR THE REAL WOMEN – ABOUT TO BE STABBED IN THE BACK.
I have noticed an increase in happiness on the part of Real Women, wherever I travel these days. On the face of it, I am pleased to see more happy women.
My natural reserve however, tells me that there are probably some Demented White Females (DWC) mixed in there, pretending to be Happy Real Women. Why?
Answer: For the obvious reasons of Infiltration, and later Sabotage, of the Real Women Contingent of our Species.
Have the Demented White Females (DWC) made repentance and refuted the SQLD Masters?
Answer: What a foolish thought. The Moderats and the Demented White Females (DWC) are saying, with furtive nodding's of their demented heads -- "He's done! We have ('Il Duce Branstad') now! He's done!"
Have Puppet, Will Pretend!
What the Demented White Females (DWC) cannot admit to themselves and each other, is that Humans do not want puppet leaders. Humans want all kinds of puppet leaders removed, and no longer existing as obstacles to the Human Species.
I should know. I operate the Puppet Disposal Service
'Il Duce Branstad' is just an item for the trash heap, as far as Humans are concerned.
If it wants to avoid being trashed, it had better start to do what Humans tell it to do – instead of obeying a Gross-tesque Master.
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Humans say -- Iowa must have a Marriage Amendment which clearly defines Marriage as between One Man and One Woman, AND does not allow for Civil Unions unless only One Man and One Woman are involved !!!!!!!!!!
What will 'Il Duce Branstad' do?
Obey Gross-ity?
Or, obey Humans?
It cannot do both!
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The Raw Reality of The United States of America today is heavily focused on the Marriage Amendment; if you don't have one you are not a State; you are either a Corpse looking for a place to fall, or something Dead and Democrap.
Iowa is no longer a State. It is now divided into the Ugly and the Beautiful – Demo-Iowa and the Real Iowa.
Thanks to the ever-lying Homosexual/Democrats and their Seven Trained Monkeys (less-supreme-than-anyone-else), the Original Iowa is dead and stinking.
The stench comes from Demo-Iowa -- and it is getting worse every day!
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Real Women were very active and powerful in the recent downfall of three of those Monkey Judges, that have openly tried to suppress the Human Species here in the Real Iowa. Three monkeys that deliberately tried to prevent Iowa from remaining a Real State – by preventing a Marriage Amendment from ever happening here.
They are now History.
Today, the losing Democraps are trying to pull a dirty trick on Real Women, which will stab all of them in the back; while they are being lied to up front, by all of the remaining SQLD medias in Demo-Iowa.
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ANUS-BREATHS DESTROY DEMOCRAP PARTY:
By embracing the Homosexual Agenda, the Democraps have allowed themselves to be overcome and swarmed by the mental diseases that always accompany the so-called Homosexuals. They easily and greedily took the Queer Money, and swallowed the Queer Lies of eventual Superiority and Dominance, that the perverts squealed as they gave out the money.
Now, they have been badly beaten politically – and all because of the so-called Homosexuals, the ACLU, the Liberal dung bags, the Racist Extremists and every other swine they embraced -- in order to win at Politics, and Rule The World.
Now, they are feeling the stings and pains of Reality, which says "Only Humanity Matters !!!!"
In their grief and pain and hatred – of anyone who dares to oppose their Crawl To Victory – they are trying to turn around and disable the Will of the People of Iowa, again.
If they can get away with it, they will throw out the Three Defeated Monkeys as fast as possible, and order 'Quiver the Lilly-Liver' to appoint Three Worse Monkeys in their places; before 'Il Duce Branstad' gets into office and appoints Three Moderate Bimbos for those offices.
Like I said before, this is a tug-of-war between two sucking-arms of the same bloated SQLD corpse.
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Meanwhile on CNN, the faces of those slithering scumbags are calling us 'The People' now. Two years ago, we were the 'Demented Right-Wing Radicals' that must be hunted down and caged like wild animals!!!! Today, those lying snakes are saying that the People want Conservatives in power, and are pretending that they wanted the same thing all the time, anyway.
If this was the first time I ever saw them lie -- I WOULD VOMIT !!!!
All of their lies are deliberate and desperate attempts to hide (even from themselves) the Ultimate Truth of this pathetic situation. Which is -- So-Called Homosexuals Bring Death And Destruction To All!!!!
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Where are the Apologies?
Where are the Apologies from the SQLD medias to the Human Species?
Where are the Confessions?
Where are the Confessions from the Democrat/Homosexuals to the Human Species?
Shall we hold our breaths while we wait for their Excuses and Apologies?
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Apologies from those creatures?
Just before the election, I heard two Satanic Anus-Grabbers at the Wal-Mart in Fort Dodge discussing how their satanic movement cannot effect the outcome of the election because – "Peters is flooding all of the airwaves with Human Energy." Apparently, listening to them, I am not allowing Evil to infest and infect and pervert and scare the 'General Public' into voting for the Democrap/Homosexuals.
Do you realize what that means? Do you realize what kinds of filth those two twisted little bastards were? (are!)
As usual, they were only marginally right. They have a lot more enemies from the Side of Light working against them, then they dare to admit, even to themselves.
The issue here is, what 'Horrors-On-Two-Legs' are those things?
Why do they work for the Homosexual/Democraps?
What are their orders from the SQLD Masters?
Answer: They are the Stolen Children !!!!
Stolen away from their Human Species, and their Humanity, by the Scum/Teachers/Democraps/NEA Swine in the Homosexual Public Schools.
Murdered, and then employed as trained Zombies with psychic/telepathic powers to attack Humans (from the anus to the brain), with Satanic Impulses and Democrat Coding. All of which is intended to force perversion upon as many Humans as they can reach, with their hideous living-dead brains and zombie bodies.
It is literally a process of Forced Voter/Following; forced by mental suggestions, body wave assaults and psychic/telepathic demands. All of which are reinforced and made to appear as being real and legitimate and official, by the supporting programming on all Satan Tube channels. The intention, of that programming, is to label any Non-Compliance by any Humans, and any failure to obey the psychic/telepathic demands of the SQLD's Anus-Grabbers -- as an 'Act of Bigotry, and Unacceptable Prejudice, and 'Homophobia'!
It is Supportive Programming which is committed against Humans by hideous Satanists and Perverts -- such as the Anti-Human things which crawl upon and defecate in your face, at the channel of the Crackheads and Nasty Neuters (CNN).
Without such supportive programming, how else could they try to get a pervert like Fred Karger to be the first 'Queer Imitation President' of Demo-Topia? How else could they have such a monster feign being righteous, and pretend to bring in a New (Horrid) Order to America?
A New Regime of Anti-Human Death – with Fred Karger in its vile 'Headquarters of All Perversions' -- in 'Wash This Death City'.
Not by any Natural or Godly or Decent means – that is an absolute certainty.
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Connections. How do things connect?
When it comes time to Judge the misdeeds and Crimes Against Humanity that have been committed, and are being committed against us, by the Anus-Grabber Perverts and their Masters – what will the Judges be????
Will they be the Monkey Judges of the SQLD?
If the Democraps/Black Radical Females/Liberal Pissants/Moderats (et all) have anything to say about it – every 'Judge' will be a queer-sucking monkey (less-supreme-than-anyone-else).
And, every opinion-fart will smell like Roses-Of-Death to the queer monsters that want to Rule The World!!!!
Connections. How do things connect?
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THE IMPORTANCE OF VOTING THE WILL:
Always Express and Exercise the Will of the People through Voting – or through Revolution when the Voting and the Will are denied and disabled.
The enemy always tries to prevent and circumvent the ability of Humans to express and enforce the Will of the People through Voting.
Ever wonder why?
It is because Voting stands Eternal.
Voting (when Clean and Human), is an everlasting landmark for Human Expression and Empowerment.
Voting is Historical.
As in Memories.
As in Human Memories of Human Achievements of the past.
A Human Past that is forbidden for Humans to know – in Demotopia – in any of the dead lands of the SQLD.
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EXAMPLES OF MIDDLE RATS:
The Latest Rat Attack From Demo-Iowa:
The Demorat/Homosexuals are scurrying to get the paperwork done quickly for finding Replacement Monkeys. They have three new and more hideous monkeys lined up to replace the (less-supreme-than-anyone-else) Monkey Judges, that were recently voted out of their Cathouse, across the street from the Statehouse in Des Moines. The rat idea of course, is to get Quiver-the-Lilly-Liver to appoint Democrat Monkeys (which have been waiting on the sidelines) as replacement Monkey Judges. Three monkeys that are even more horrid and demented and greedy and queer than the last three were.
Does anyone need more proof of the Anti-Life and Anti-Christ and Anti-Human reality of the Homosexual/Democrats?
The mental disease and greeds and hatreds towards all Humanity, that drive their rancid brains to further and further debaucheries, and attacks against Humanity, are strikingly obvious and in-your-face.
THEY WANT US DEAD !!!!
Get it?
Dead!
They want the Human Species to be their Slaves until they can breed enough half-humanoid/half-queer replacements so that all Humans can be forced out of their jobs, forced out of their homes, forced off their farms and forced out of 'acceptable society'. Thus, making all Humans into half-citizens with half-rights and half-values and half-longevity. And then (when the timing is right), even that will be taken away from our children. Our children's children will be curtailed and denied all rights and privileges – including the right to reproduce-at-will.
Those scum are at this very moment planning to put three Worse-Than-Before Monkeys into the Whorehouse across the street from the Statehouse -- to keep the Will of the People of Iowa a Forbidden Right – a Forbidden Humanity – a Forbidden Law of Nature.
This is beyond any evidence which anyone could require in order to clearly and permanently certify the Democrat/Homosexuals (all of them) as ...
DEATH TO THE HUMAN SPECIES !!!!
Indeed – the titles of Homosexual/Democrats or Democrat/Homosexuals are no longer required when discussing those Anti-Humans.
They are – THE DEATH !!!!
THE DEATH DISEASE !!!!
THE DEATH GREED !!!!
THE DEMO-DEATH !!!!
They want it this way.
They can have it this way.
No Democrat/Homosexual is a Human Life form !!!!
All Homosexual/Democrats are DEATH, to all Life forms in this Universe.
I cannot find anywhere in History where any hoard of scum, army of killers, swarm of locusts, or pestilence of vermin has acted more exactly like a Plague of Death (against all Life in the Known Universe) than the Democrat/Homosexuals have; in any proportion even vaguely approximating the degrees of horrendous and evil intentions, designs and genocide which are attempted and perpetrated against all Life in the Known Universe by the SQLD and their internal maggots the Homosexual/Democrats, Homosexual/Moderates etc.
There just is no mention of anything that awful in any History books. Not in the Original Histories, and certainly not in the falsified and plagiarized revisionist histories.
We Humans of today are literally facing an enemy that can only claim Hell itself, as the source of its energies and orders.
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Critique of the Doug Gross Charade:
November 24, 2010 Broadscast of the Jan Mickelson show.
http://mickelson.libsyn.com/2010/11
As I mentioned before, the Moder-Rats are trying very hard, and very loudly, to pull off a Bait and Switch Routine on the People of Iowa. Their current plan is to present themselves as the Real Conservatives (and the Only Conservatives), with loud and laughing voices. They are pretending to be the Leaders of the Jubilation. They are portraying themselves as the Band Masters and the Ring Leaders of the Human Celebration – and therefore – MUST THEY NOT BE THE LEADERS OF THE PEOPLE ????
Just look at their smiles and laughter! Just listen to their shouts and exclamations! Are they not the Happiest and Most Benevolent of all People ????
Are They Not – Lying Sacks Of Dung????
Are They Not – Just More Nauseating SQLD Phonies?
Answer: Most Absolutely. The Moderate/Homosexuals are far more frightened by the Will Of The People, than they are afraid of any other sucking-arm of the SQLD, such as the Homosexual/Democrats. If the Democrat/Homosexuals perform an Act Of Murder against the People ((again)) and put Their Replacement Monkeys into the Whorehouse across the street from the Statehouse in Des Moines – that will serve the purposes of the Homosexual/Moderates just fine!!!! The Moderats are under orders to prevent a Marriage Amendment from happening in Demo-Iowa, anyway. Such an Act Of Murder by the other sucking-arm of the SQLD will just give them the excuse that they need, to say that it is impossible to achieve a Marriage Amendment in Demo-Iowa.
Waiting for any Moder-Rat to be Human and say the Truth, is almost as bad as expecting a United Methodist Punching Bag to worship God, instead of Perverts and Perversion.
Once Demented – Always Demented.
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Listen to the conversation between Jan Mickhelson and the Doug Gross 'Master of Ceremonies'.
Listen carefully. Listen to it AVOID any attempt by Jan Mickelson to get it to acknowledge that this Victory of the Human Species, is anything that is 'Socially Conservative'. Understand what that means.
Beneath the Veneer and Playacting of the Moder-Rats, there boils and fumes an -- Intense Hatred And Jealousy Of All Real Humans!!!!
If you know how to listen, and 'Read-between-the-Lines', you will easily hear what is really going on in that conversation.
Beneath the boisterous False Happiness of the Moder-Rats is a DEEP FEAR.
A Deep Fear that the Real Humans Will Take Over!!!!
If you are a Moder-Rat – Now Is The Time To Pretend Your Ass Off !!!!
And, in this conversation with Jan Mickelson, that is exactly what Doug Gross is doing.
Listen for yourself. I am asking you to listen. Please.
Know the Truth.
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I do not live to be remembered.
I live to be of a Species, that can remember.
What it is supposed to be.
Towards that end, I will now explain more of myself and what I know is the Truth. In the sole purpose of helping you to further throw off the Fakeries and Pretenses of anyone who seeks to Fool You, and thus to Control You.
More understanding – leads to more Truth.
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The end goal of this next section is to lead into THE AWESOME FOUR. Which is all about something that our enemies totally lack. Something which they can only Imitate, and Demand that you Imagine is really there, in their dead existences.
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FOR HUMANS ONLY – BEYOND THIS POINT:
Which means that every SQLD Analyst, and its Uncle's monkey, will be reading this. Every word.
Well, at least I will have two readers for this next work.
What? What did you say?
The SQLD have more than one Analyst!?
Oh, come on now! You cannot be serious!
However ...
That would give me four readers.
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Being a writer is not always such hard work -- if you have the help of a good imagination.
There are three kinds of writing, each with their own difficulties. Writing ‘Non-Fiction is always helped by the idiocies and the vileness of the subjects of Non-Fiction, at least in my case. Fiction, however, is the written domain in which there is so much fluctuation -- so many oceans of exuberance, followed closely by complete deserts of emptiness. Many writers of Fiction know what I mean by this, for the writing of Fiction is not only an art form, it is a curse. A curse of Elusiveness. Elusiveness that always tries to whet the appetite of the writer with enticements of massive gifts of eloquence and splendid creativity -- when all of the time it fully intends to take away such talents as though they had never existed -- leaving the writer facing the pages of his past works with a question and nervous fear that what he has already created is the sum total, the limit, the end of his/or her written output.
To make it more complicated, writers such as myself, who write Fiction and Non-Fiction, experience a constant tug-of-war between the two written realms of interest.
If the Non-Fiction happens to be about benign or temperate subject matters, the conflicts between Fiction and Non-Fiction are not so troublesome. That does not mean Life for such a writer is carefree and luxurious.
In my case, the subjects of my Non-Fiction writings are always committing ridiculous and dastardly atrocities, which scream for my written explanations and exposures.
Add to that, the importance of my Non-Fiction works as a Historical Chronicle, and it is amazing that I can ever put down a word of Fiction at all.
Unless, there is a third way. Unless, the two can have a means to work towards and for each other’s interests.
Giving examples of Fiction, to illustrate the lessons of Non-Fiction, has always worked well for me. I often call them parallels, or illustrative stories. Which they truly are.
Where all of that imagination comes from and goes to is, however, quite a different story.
The expansive feat of blending Fiction and Non-Fiction together such that all (Non-Fiction) Truth is preserved and valued, all (Non-Fiction) Lies are exposed and eradicated, and yet the wideness and scope that only Fiction can give is preserved; such that the reader not only learns the Truth and benefits from its Light, but also is entertained and enlightened from within as well as from without; is a seemingly difficult task. It is an effort that is beyond reach, given the complexity of it, if one looks at it dispassionately and logically. The doing of such writing must seem to be well near impossible, to some writers.
Writers of today forget that such writings, as I describe here, have been happening since before the days of such Great Authors as Christopher Marlow and William Shakespeare.
I have the ability to create such tapestries of Fiction and Non-Fiction, with apparent ease -- from the readership point of view. From my side, the doing is not difficult, just tedious due to the formats and styles that are required. Timing, is so important. Comprehension is so important. Relevancy is so important. Being worth the reading, is vital.
All the while, the definite barrier between Fiction and Non-Fiction must be maintained. The purposes of the Fictitious passages being clearly illuminated as their own selves, and separate from the Non-Fiction work that they are being used to supplement. A feat that is important for the reader’s benefit, and made more difficult due to the incredibly insane and lunatic (Non-Fiction) acts and misdeeds of the Subjects of that Non-Fiction. When the components of the Non-Fiction are so outlandish that they rival Fiction -- then this Third Usage of Writing must be done carefully.
There is a benefit to it, however. The more 'Stranger Than Fiction' are the actions and plans, of the Subjects of Non-Fiction, the more readily can be applied the elements of Fiction, to explain their Non-Fiction.
If it is done right.
Right, to explain Wrong.
But, how does it happen? How do two oceans of thought combine in just the right ways?
I will give you an example. There are many different ways. This is just one.
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During the early morning hours of Thanksgiving Day, in the Year 2010, ((a day that became destined for some really great events, which probably only I and Nature and God will ever know about)) ... before any Higher Brain Functions were awakened ... while I slept soundly in the House That Justice Wrought ... having the night before scolded Marvelous Mouse for eating my house, and chasing him out into the cold back yard ... I had a dream.
Dream.
Dreams, as you may know, seldom follow the logical expectations of our Higher Brain Functions, which are deliberately zoned out by such dreams. If we are lucky, or deliberate, the events of dreams can be remembered -- even memorized and made permanent. The trick is to remember just the dream, and not the many rationalizations and explanations and changes which the Higher Brain Functions (once aware that the dream occurred) always try to add to and supplement onto the dream.
In my case, most of my dreams need no help from my Higher Brain Functions. I often dream in Technicolor, having translated the process into my engrams long ago, and I can tap into as much raw brain power as I may need (sometimes far more than I need), completely and without the assistance or influence of the ‘Higher Brain Functions’.
I have little regard for Higher Brain Functions. They are responsible for most of the Horrors of Planet Sinister.
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I was driving.
In the Waking Life, I recently changed vehicles, dumping an old and unbelievably worthy Geo Prism ((‘The little car that refused to die’, no matter what hardships I put it through)), and getting a more modern and larger vehicle in its place, a Cashmere Impala. Which, despite its greater size and power, will not be allowed to try to fill the Tire Tracks of its predecessor. Not just because such a feat would be impossible, but also because I have a Species to work for, and I do not intend to put this vehicle through the racks of torture which the Geo Prism survived -- somehow.
In my dream, however, I was driving with no thoughts of any vehicle. I was aware only of my hands on the steering wheel, and I was aware of the views before me; and I was aware of the lands over which I drove, which were smooth and hard packed yet covered sporadically by thin layers of rainwater. But, as of yet, the vehicle was unknown. Not just because it was not known, but because it was not a thought in the dream, yet.
I was driving quickly, through a dream. And, into a tunnel. In Europe there are traffic tunnels the like of which I was seeing. They are not solid and continuous tunnels of steel rebar and concrete, such as the ones in American cities. Instead, they are long, invariably vapored and wet, with ceilings supported by enormous and classical arches separated by vast spaces of air and light in between; with quick masses of earthworks on either side, giving the impression that one is driving underground, and yet not. Perhaps elevated somehow, inside man-made earth, and upon reaching the end there will be a quick descent down to the ground level again.
Flocks of pigeons call such places home, and their sight flashes past overhead. In the daylight, wide beams of star lux shine down through the archways, illuminating the roads within. At night, you are left to the abilities of your own headlights. Tunnels such as these are worlds of their own, built and then used in forgotten ways by Man. Populated by the denizens of all surrounding natural places.
They always make the way shorter, and lead to some Point of Man, from some other Point of Man. However, they are so open and unattended and thus allowed to ’Naturalize’, they give the impression that in order to get from one Point of Man to the next, one must travel backwards through Time and possibly even into the Earth itself, and back out again.
In many cases they are result of the centuries. Built originally for one kind and speed of traffic, they become modified and repaved for a newer style and pace of traffic. Such tunnels that cannot accommodate the newest vehicles of Man, are closed to such means and become Ways of the Foot and Cart and Horse. Those that can be refurbished, are. And then, allowed to grow. Grow vines, trees, shrubs, bats, pigeons, bird's nests of all local species that find such damp depths suitable. Only the traffic itself prohibits those tunnels from becoming the territories of such animals as foxes, hawks, raccoons, bears, deer and so forth.
I was driving into a long tunnel of this description. Archways whizzed past me on either side, and a barred lightscape covered the road beneath my wheels. I was on the left-hand side of the road, I realized, at about ninety miles an hour. The tunnel and its arches ran straight ahead for a mile and then rose together gaining altitude, before descending again into a section that was more stone than raw earth. From the far end of my sight another vehicle was approaching me, with its headlights on. It was silverish and sleek, probably a BMW or Audi. I looked at the roadway and saw that the lane I was supposed to be in was elevated a foot higher than my own.
With the certainty that a truck driver has of his increased abilities, and his knowledge of what his truck can do that no passenger car can do (or would want to do), I swerved up onto the right-hand lane. As I did so, I looked into the rear view mirror. The silver auto flashed past me and into my rear view, fastly fading out of sight into the tunnel.
When I looked forwards again, I saw the interior of an Aston Martin V8 Vantage (Series 2) -- the same one from ‘The Living Daylights‘ Bond film. On a front panel display to the right of the instruments, in green letters, a banner message repeated – "I am a Volante, damn it!"
"Whatever!" I thought.
Sometimes my dreams are quite conversational, and I can spend an entire dream just listening to someone explain virtually anything. I had an entire dream once, wherein someone was showing me, in great detail, how to place glass jars of home-made preserves onto wooden shelves. That was the dream. How to place glass jars of home preserves onto wooden shelves. That person talked, and I listened.
In other dreams I do the talking. And in some, there appears a snidely SQLD propagandist that sneers and tries to lie about what I am saying. Those dreams become rated 'X-for extreme violence'. No one lies in my dreams, and lives to tell about it. At such times, the very next dream can be (and usually is) about something quite pleasant and Natural. With no Liars or Genociders in sight. And, now you know why.
I was driving this dark green 'Grand Touring Auto' at 100 mph along this tunnel, which was now getting lighter from the star lux above, and was growing wider. In fact, its former high vaulted but narrow shape was transforming outwards and downwards. It was becoming lower of ceiling and much wider of walls. Until it was literally oval in an ancient manner, and at the end of the tunnel I could discern a great array of open cave-like entrances above the exit, leading out to a mixed sight of hills covered with very green forests, a blue sky populated with scattered clouds in bright white arrays, and the road itself which became gold and orange in colors. The road became so wide that it no longer existed, and as I left the tunnel I turned right in a slow curve which led to a straight path that went up a short valley lined with stone cliffs; and then myself and the Aston Martin (for it seemed to respond to my thoughts) made an abrupt left turn upwards, for which I had to slow and downshift. I began to climb up the side of a mountain.
As all of this was in color -- ((and therefore not 'Anuses, Perverts, and Alchemists' (APA) Approved)) -- I was starting to enjoy the sights of the mountain road that I was climbing. I was aware that there were great chasms and deep valleys on either side of me, but my attention was focused upon getting up the mountain. The pathway was still a mixture of gold pavement speckled with orange colored stones, and led upwards in a series of S-curves. The mountain was covered mostly by evergreen forests, but in various places granite promontories and cliff sides cast out from its sides, all beige and sandstone in colors. The tree line could be seen clearly, for it formed a ring about the upper one quarter of the mountain. Above that tree line the mountain was all snow and ice, with sheer cliffs in places.
I had the impression that I was in the Italian Alps, but my thoughts were on the mountain. Once, I looked sideways to my right, and I saw a vast alpine valley spreading out and away from me. But quickly, I returned my gaze to what was ahead of me.
I was now ascending at about 40 degrees vertical, and something told me that the road was running out. It was becoming flat ground rather than paved road, and then became unflat ground.
I was still driving fast. I was catching up with something ahead of me. Soon, the road widened and tall forests lined its sides right up to its margins, giving it the appearance of a corridor of trees. I was climbing more steeply now, and ahead on the road there appeared before me a large collection of snowmobiles, complete with drivers of many different sizes and descriptions. They were all dressed in winter clothing of that colorful variety that says “We are the Rich Snowmobilers, and this is our Territory!“. They were talking loudly to each other as they climbed the mountain.
Suddenly, I came to a halt. I had reached the tree line, and I was pointed upwards towards the snow covered granite summit of the mountain overhead. I could go no further, however. The snowmobilers had no troubles at all, and with much happiness they ascended up the mountain. Slowly they disappeared from view, as did the top of the mountain itself.
I was forced to turn around and go back down. As I did so, I found that I was on a well paved and dark colored road, that was quite unlike the narrow and stone walled mountain road I had just left. I did not remember seeing a narrow and stone walled mountain road so far, but that did not matter. This road was lined with bushes and trees of many deciduous types. The roadway itself was almost smothered by overhanging trees, through which I followed a well lit path, as the star lux made its way through the trees quite well.
This route lasted for a few moments, and just as I was beginning to enjoy it, the road left the forest and suddenly was running along the side of a large lake.
The first thing I noticed about the lake was its smoothness. There were no signs of any wave action, though upon its shores the water lapped lazily just to show that it was alive.
The lake did have a stone wall along its perimeter, but it was only about a foot high and amounted to nothing more than an embellishment.
I would say that the lake was about fifteen miles wide and of an undetermined length from where I drove. I was driving north, and I seemed to be at the north end of the lake. I could see the lake run ahead of me northwards for another ten miles and then curve away to the northeast for a long ways, before coming back around and heading southwards.
I looked over my right shoulder at the lake, but the eastern shoreline moved away and became too far to view. There was no sight of any southern shoreline. My side, the western shoreline, ran into the horizon in my rear-view mirror, and lazily curved eastwards.
I remember thinking that this lake must be very high indeed, for I could scarcely be three thousand feet below the crest of the mountain I was just trying to reach.
Along this stretch of the lake there were no habitations, but I could see that along the eastern shore, which was almost desert-like and lined with tall cliffs and hills that reached down to the lake, there were villages and towns of white buildings with red roofs. They were established enough to have many trees amongst their houses and buildings, and their streets went up the sides of the hills and cliffs, making me think more and more that I was in Italy somehow.
No sooner did I take this all in, then I was driving into a small commercial zone for some unseen town. It was one of those places where the main road bypasses the town or small city; and the Town Fathers decided to create, or yielded to the demands for, a Place of Convenience for passing motorists on their part of the road. So, there was a tavern there. It was a large cafe, with stone and adobe walls, a dark brown thatched roof, and a sandstone archway for a front door, covered by a colorful and Mexican-looking canopy.
Beyond it were two more functional buildings such as an auto repair garage and a gas station, both of which could have been plucked off of our own Route 66, from the 1960’s.
Along the south side of the tavern were parked five older looking vehicles, sedans and pickup trucks. The parking area on the road side was empty, until I parked there.
I shut down the engine, got out of the Aston Martin, threw my sunglasses onto the seat, shut the door -- and walked through the archway -- into the company of the friendliest Human Beings I have ever seen for decades !!!!
The interior of the cafe, which I saw, boasted a long bar of walnut wood (deeply polished) with a shining stainless steel top surface running its entire length, the end of which I never saw. It was not positioned parallel to the walls, but rather ran diagonally from the center of the building to the far northwest corner, which I never saw either. Somewhere to my left were many tables, all covered with rich looking table clothes of red and white checked patterns and accompanied by some very solid looking chairs with thick green padding, all highly polished, almost waxed.
The floor had a woven rug of some origin unknown to me, that seemed to be the result of a rope maker's art. It was a massive intertwining of small ropes, but it was quite flat and strong. The area to my right was mostly comprised of the high front windows, six of them in a row showing the view of the lake and my Aston Martin quite well.
Behind the bar was the wall of the kitchen area, with its traditional windows for passing trays of hot food from the stoves to the bar. And, that was as much of the interior as I had time to notice.
I went up to the People at the bar, all of whom were standing and talking to the Bartender Lady on the other side. They all turned to me, waiting for me to speak.
I asked something like, “Where is this lake? Are we in Pennsylvania? That looks like Georgia over there on the opposite side.” and I pointed eastwards with my right hand.
Bang! That’s all they needed to hear.
I was suddenly surrounded by friendly Human Beings who were all trying to tell me where I was, why I was here, where I was going, when I was to leave, and what I was here to do.
I was dressed in my ‘Suave and Debonair European Attire‘, which is always a cashmere suit of some earthly color combination, with reinforced elbows, and reinforced shoulder flashes; wearing a white and long-sleeved ‘Arrow’ shirt, black leather shoes with sports laces and special treads (tailor made), long black hair and only a mustache (no beard), 1914 model 9mm Luger in a shoulder holster under my left arm, and a high powered wideband radio transceiver sewn into the upper sections of the cashmere sports coat.
I raised up on my tippy-toes and looked around, while everyone was talking to me in at least five different languages. I could see that I was surrounded by Human Beings. I mean there was no end to them. The cafe had apparently reached mammoth proportions, for as far as I could see on all sides there were Human Beings. They were all composed of very regular and commonplace descriptions (no ludicrous and absurd Self-Glorifying-Democrats or Moderats were anywhere in sight).
Albeit colorfully dressed, everyone around me was as ‘ordinary’ in appearance as ‘ordinary‘ can mean. Being the center of all of this reaction however, I knew that each one of them was far from ordinary. And, they surrounded me from all directions. I could not see the far side of them wherever I looked.
I put my head down, until I was looking at a forty-five degree angle towards the floor. When I did that, there were only six people around me talking. When I lifted my head until I was looking horizontally, I was once again immersed in a Great Throng of People.
I did this several times, to make sure it was happening and I sneaked a peek (between the People) out the front window each time my head was down, to see if my Aston Martin was still there. It was. Waiting patiently. I could sense that.
Just so that I would know, it blinked its headlights. First the right side and then the left side. Which meant “Get on with it!”
But, I was helpless. And I was very happy, because I was with some very friendly People.
[[Today, I live in the Real Iowa where People are Friendly. The Real Humans of Iowa are the Friendliest People I have ever met in America. But, it is still an American Friendliness which is not as endowed with the mammalian happiness and that cheerfulness that European Happiness possesses.]]
I was in Europe somewhere. This was not Pennsylvania. Everyone spoke English with an accent, that sounded like a cross between Eastern European Gypsy, some Southern French and Muscovite Russian.
Champaign and Vodka was flowing freely, but as I do not drink alcohol I abstained. That was not even noticed by all of them, because they were all trying to give me advice.
For a while I kept listening (not understanding), and then I would ask something stupid like – "Is that the Los Angeles Coliseum I see over there?" pointing to the far side of the lake.
I was a lost soul in need of Friendship, and they were there to help me. That was the happening of it all. There were two men and four women.
In the typical European custom the men would stand next to me and rub shoulders with me, and nudge me with their elbows, and lift up glasses of Vodka and use them like they were magic wands -- and say things like "You know, the way to the other side of the lake is to ride these Women as far as they will go! Yass? Yass-Prouvnik!"
Then they would look me in the eye (eyeball to eyeball) to see if I was paying attention to this Vital Information. When they get drunk they want to know People are listening.
The Women, oh yes, were typical European Women who know how to use their bodies. The Women were making as much bodily contact with me as possible, as usual. They were bumping and grinding their hips all over me, pushing their breasts against me and looking up into my eyes with smiles on their beautiful faces – just like they always did when I was in Europe. They were not so much trying to give me directions on how to get home, as they were trying to get me to stay.
Everyone was so friendly it was astounding. Everyone was laughing and talking and not just to me, but to each other as well. There was that competition thing happening between the Women – for me – as usual.
And, I kept asking – "Is that the Fiji Islands over there!" or "That's Duluth, Minnesota over there. Isn't It?" pointing to the far side of the lake.
I could tell that this was going to go on for hours. The men wanted to have a knife throwing contest with me as the target, standing against a wall with a glass of Vodka on my head. The idea being to miss me (just barely) after each shot of Vodka (for them).
The Women were still rubbing themselves all over me, and now one was purring. They all were pushing their ample breasts against me and saying delightful things in a language I could not understand. One was trying to get me to hold her in my arms, like she was a sack of peaches or something.
Everyone was really friendly and happy, and I began to feel that the Force Was With Me.
I could survive the knives, AND make long and sensuous love to all of these beautiful Women, AND still wash and wax the car!
The car? Damn, I forgot the car!
I jumped away from the bar, and ran to the front door. Through the archway I could see that the Aston Martin was sitting about a hundred yards to the south, on the road. It was revving its engine and then it began to peel rubber in long patches on the pavement. Its brake lights were flashing. Its horn was tooting. And, then it performed a 'Wheelie' for about another hundred yards.
I turned back to the adoring friends and waved goodbye with a lavish gesture, "Farewell! Farewell, oh wonderful friends!", and then I sprinted out of the tavern. I caught up with the Aston Martin about a quarter mile south, and got back into the driver's seat just in time. Before the door was shut we were blasting down the road, and I had to try several times to get the door closed, and get my seatbelt on.
The dashboard panel displayed a curt message – "You Call That Dedication? Oh, Great Father."
"They were really friendly. I have to remember this place." I replied and I looked back over my shoulder to see the tavern one last time. It was gone.
We were now cruising at ninety again, and my attention returned to the lake. "No, this cannot be Patagonia. It's too arid!" And, indeed it was. There were small forests all along the far side of the lake, but you could tell it was not a land of great woods. More like Southern Italy or Greece.
"Maybe ...." I looked again at the lake, which was quite flat and ringed by cliff sides and bluffs and receding hills ... "it's not the same place after all." I had the sudden idea that it was a lake on the border of something, or some places, and what was here on my side was not there on that side.
"Drive?" came the message on the panel. I resumed driving. And, I laughed. The old saying "We don't know where we are going – but there's no sense being late!" occurred to me. [[I think I laughed out loud too, in Reality. I often laugh out loud while I am having dreams, during the humorous parts.]]
This was also a sign that I was starting to wake up, slowly.
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As it often happens, in the later reaches of my dreams, my Human Values System (which the SQLD Anus-Grabbers have been trying to kill for decades) comes into play. Literally. It begins to play a part in the dreams.
The dreams then perform their own summation, or calibration. The Pure Fun, gives way to the Pure Logic.
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As we drove southwards along the lakeshore, I kept looking eastwards for the other side of the lake. Now, it simply was not there, nor was the southern end.
As if in answer to my inquiry, vast lands of cornfields, high and just about to be harvested, came towards us from the south and engulfed us. We were now on a narrow dirt road, that was hemmed in on each side by walls of eight foot tall corn.
Whenever we came to an intersection amongst the cornfields, the Aston Martin slowed down, to avoid a collision. With such high walls of plants all around us any crossing traffic was impossible to see, until it was too late. There were no stop signs, as is usual, so we just slowed down and looked along the very empty roads on either side of us, and then resumed cruising speed.
As we were driving between those green walls, with golden tasseled tops, I had the windows down so I could hear. I was navigating by sound, and I could hear laughing. I could hear large crowds of People laughing, and it was coming from over the cornfields to our right.
I gradually came to a stop in the middle of the road, a common practice of mine. I shut down the engine, and the Aston Martin gave a mechanical sigh. On the dashboard’s multifunction display to my right, of bright green crystals on a dark purple background, there appeared the single symbol -- ‘?’
“All right!” I said. “I just want to listen for a minute.”
With the windows down, and the motor silent except for the slowly flashing “?“, I could hear better. Like waves of sound, carried by the winds that flowed across the tassels of the cornfield, I could make out the rising and falling presence of applause, and much laughter. I mean tides of laughter.
“That must be Iowa! The Moderats are trying to Out-Laugh the Humans, and make themselves appear as The Winners.” I said.
We started up again, drove a ways further and then took the next right turn. At this the Aston Martin came to a halt, and across the crystal display there scrolled the question “A little traveling music?”
“Have it your way!” I replied. I was too tired to argue. I was supposed to be sleeping! No?
Instantly there burst from the speakers the Main Theme to ‘The Living Daylights’ by the band 'A-ha'; and with a crunching of spinning tires on gravel, we sped off. Soon, gone from energy, as the entire stream lost strength.
Home Again, Home Again, Ziggidy-Zigg!
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I awoke a few minutes later, after some dream housekeeping. As I can have multiple dreams simultaneously, there is a lot of effort expended sometimes in keeping them separate, so one can prevail and be fully realized -- such as the one you just learned about.
That is what gives me headaches sometimes. I can wake up with headaches, when there are multiple dreams all of which think they are the most important.
Neuron-wise, that entire dream probably took about five minutes to occur, maybe ten. But, all of it poured into my long-term memory banks, just as I have designed it to do so.
I have resisted allowing the Higher Brain Functions to interfere or add to this dream, because they always want to criticize and say I should have done this, or that, and so forth. And, they are crazy about Add-ons. Add this, add that. Particularly, if there is a voluptuous and beautiful Woman involved. Then I get all sorts of – "You should have done this!" and "You should have said that!"
Besides, the rest of that day proved to be very complex and demanding for the Higher Brain Functions anyway; so they quickly gave up on trying to intrude upon the dream, being otherwise totally occupied.
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So, what does it all mean?
Answer: An idea. Something awesome.
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All right. Just one. For the fan club. The engine won't start without it.
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Markel Peters
http://www.voices-of-iowa.blogspot.com
