Monday, January 20, 2014

LINES IN THE SKY OF THE MIND

1:30pm

This is one of the most unusual sights of my life. I've never seen six parallel lines cross the sky to horizon and not fade for a very long time. I have seen the crosshatching in the sky of chemtrails. I saw them from Pine Swamp looking like they were possibly over Wilkes county. The parallel lines above are in the same part of the sky I saw the crosshatching. They went NE to SW. Basic deduction points to chemtrails. This picture was taken about 1:30 looking south. The bright light is the sun. I don't know that I've ever seen contrails stretch that far. In times of commuter traffic, the contrails go all over the sky like a web spun by a spider on lsd. The sky looks completely out of order in the early mornings of winter, yet I look at them and see that it is a very distinct order. If I knew where the planes were going to and from, I'd see perfect order in the lines. It's one of those odd things about civilization in our time, looking completely out of order and being in perfect order. Getting a little closer, it's looking something like seeing the world around us a chaos of free will and self-advertising. It appears so much out of order it justifies replacing democracy with fascism. Yet, when I look at it from afar, from a metaphorical God's eye view, it's in perfect order, I think of the play of humanity all over the earth something like a seemingly infinite Persian carpet with the design slowly and constantly changing. When I see the parallel lines in the sky in this light, it's just another interesting thing to see. When I think about them as chemtrails and what they're doing to us, I want the whole of the Western world's economy to collapse, let the American-Israeli war on the Arab world begin in earnest and take it so far it depletes humanity to survivors, the start-over place. Reset. I waver between these two points of view.
 
1:30pm
 
One thing I've learned along the way is worst-case scenarios seldom work out. I've also learned that when I dread going someplace, like a gathering of white people standing up and talking fast as they can go, it turns out to be a fun occasion I'm glad I went to. It's actually turned out that the more I dread something, the more I enjoy it. I talk to myself about giving up dread, but it creeps in anyway. I don't pay attention to it much anymore, by now seeing the dread as a measure of good times ahead. In like manner, I can tell myself that dread of the direction corporate government has taken us by making the laws against us, will turn out all right. The only way I can see that happening is spontaneous revolt from all the 99%. I don't see that happening, but I also don't see the future. That's where I jump off this track of thinking. The unforeseen is around every corner. Who would have ever guessed a pope would come onto the scene in this time bypassing centuries of dogma and corruption to bring the red lettered words in the gospels up to date? Its no longer about sheep and goats, but Wall Street and massive poverty around the globe. He is even being threatened by rich American Catholics, remembering the Sicilian mafia has a powerful grip on the Vatican, and he takes the threats as nothing. He may die soon of "natural" causes, but he has already reformed the Church. Pope Francis has become for me a reminder not to assess the future with any notion of certainty. Obama came on as a big surprise, but the surprise soon fell away. It was a faux surprise. 
 
1:30pm
 
The part I didn't see coming about Obama, though in hindsight it's obvious, is how definitively he brought racism to the surface in white American men. And what the white men don't get is he's there for them, not the black men. Obama promised change, though the only change I see that I can attribute to him is he brought racism to the surface in America. It wasn't his agenda to start that fire. It took a life of its own because it needed to bubble to the surface. It was time. Up from the grave of denial. Poe's story, The Fall of the House of Usher, makes a good illustration of how denial functions. Herman Melville's white whale that sinks the ship of state, the ship of men from around the world, every race, fetching whale oil that was used for light in the time before unforeseen electricity, was obsessive white man racism in the time before the Civil War. I felt like Melville wrote the story as a warning that the hate in the air around racism had a strong potential to sink American democracy. The Civil War was next. We're in that time again where racism is threatening to sink the ship of state. Then it was a civil war; now it's corporate police state and prisons, glossed as security by corporate press. It looks like everything is going down the metaphorical drain, and it may be, for all I know. I see something entirely different when I pull away from it and remind myself it is part of the Divine Plan, whatever that is, something we're only able to see in hindsight, if then. I tend to see this time we're going through as the waist of the hourglass from one level of collective consciousness into a whole new understanding of ourselves in the cosmos, a few at a time until all make it through.      
 
11:30am

I saw this scene earlier in the day, again NE to SW, two hours before seeing the newer ones pictured above. The odd part about this view is that I was not able to find the trails the other side of the cloud it looks like they're coming out of. They stretched all the way across the sky, the cloud their apparent origin. This was the best the camera's frame could do. I'm struck by how what looks like vapor trails stay together like a stream of water. I've not seen any do this before. Could it be a light show put on by UFOs to attract our attention? Back in the summer, I was riding back from town on hwy 18 in Whitehead with Lucas and Judy Carpenter. We were facing west toward Ashe county, and five very distinct white lines looked like they were going straight up from beyond Jane Taylor mountain, though much further, then leveled at the same altitude and flew in a straight line above us across the sky, west to east, approximately. None of us could find a source for the white lines, much broader and thicker than contrails. We regretted not having camera or binoculars. We all have aging eyes, of course, but we can still see a silver plane in the sky. The sources of the trails were evidently too small for us to see. They puzzled us until we agreed we had nothing to go by for what it might be. White, very unnatural contrails flying in military formation. We wondered if they might be chemtrail drones. It was CIA or UFO; either one was out of our league. We agreed it is more interesting to sit on the deck with wine, look at the trees and sky, and talk about our everyday life experiences, than to fuss over something we'll never know what it was.   
 
 
 
 
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