Alienation- alien -Alien Nation

What goes on in the minds of man, dogs, birds
Whatever happened to dog baba?
For one thing freedom of speech , of course corse media not with standing
The course is thought in various colleges and universities all over
Spring sprung and all the cords heading back home bound

All the wishbearers of past wars glorious young, triumphant conquering heroes, v days, mushroom clouds, the horizon filled with exquisite pleasures of matrimonial bliss,

The conquered filled with the shadow of heavy price to pay for their infamy everyone, every body hush hushed waiting for the miraculous go fitted mandarin tho explode, or, dissipate, or even reduced into antimatter .

Explosions are preferable with fireworks and all and all members joyfully among them Peggy sue on high way 66, gloating with their horned jocks backseat in their new chevies, which now are proud acquisitions in smitsoanion lore.

No one appears to sea last man dilemma, nothing else maybe but a whisp of imaging, a translucent key between here there any where everywhere but no where.

The keys , of Florida is a good example. Waiting for that magic moment you don’t have to anticipate anymore, the acid made it’s permanent drip dry perma pressed impression

One that even pope Francis or even retro pope Joan could not in her most vulgates moment could not seal.

The imprimatur wax of golden orange and reddish allure, lipstick and eyeshadow ultramarine -her colors- says deftly:

The best solution to the globalist “village” is the revitalization of the real village. We need reinvigorated local communities with thriving local economies comprised of multifarious small to medium-sized businesses. We also need revitalized and reinvigorated local government with real power, which means wresting power away from Washington DC and reinvesting it closer to the people whom government is meant to serve.
It’s more than twenty years since Hillary Clinton told us that it takes a village to raise a child, and more than ten years since Rick Santorum responded with his riposte that it takes a family. These two perspectives would appear to be diametrical opposites and yet, in point of fact, and as we shall see, it takes both a village and a family to raise a child.

The real point of contention is that Hillary Clinton doesn’t really believe that it takes a village to raise a child, in spite of her polemic, because she doesn’t really believe in villages. Her use of the word is a mere euphemism for Big Government solutions to political problems. She doesn’t trust villages because she doesn’t trust the people who live in them. The village mentality, like the small-town mentality, is not open to radical new approaches to traditional human problems. The village is not “progressive” enough. What Mrs. Clinton really believes is that it takes a huge city and a burgeoning Federal Government to raise a child. And by raising a child, she means teaching the child to despise the village, with its local roots and traditional morality, and to embrace the utopian and oxymoronic “global village” in which the child ceases to be part of a genuine local community and becomes, instead, a “citizen of the world,” a mere microcosmic minion among the multiple millions who inhabit the one globalist “village.”

The best solution to the globalist “village” is the revitalization of the real village. We need reinvigorated local communities with thriving local economies comprised of multifarious small to medium-sized businesses. We also need revitalized and reinvigorated local government with real power, which means wresting power away from Washington DC and reinvesting it closer to the people whom government is meant to serve.

But what about the child? Does it take a family or a village to raise a child?

There can be no doubt that the role of the family is sacrosanct, no doubt about it, but the family needs help, and the child needs friends other than family members. And this is where the village comes in. The village should have a school, or a choice of schools, and the family should have the choice of sending the child to school, or of choosing not to do so. Should the family choose to homeschool, it is often helpful for several families to get together once or twice a week in homeschool co-ops, enabling the children to make friends and enabling parents to pool their skills and resources for the common good. Yes indeed, it does take a village as well as a family to raise a child, but it has to be a real village and not a fake village; it cannot be the urban wolf in rural clothing which Mrs. Clinton offers as a euphemistic and oxymoronic alternative to the family.

There is, however, one other crucial member of every village and every community whose very presence or absence is indicative of the community’s health or sickness, and that is the village idiot.

Every village needs its own idiot. And, thanks be to God, since every village needs one, every village throughout the whole of human history has always been blessed to have one. And here the word is being used in its literal and traditional sense, as referring to “a person so deficient in mind as to be permanently incapable of rational conduct.” It is, therefore, not being used in the euphemistic sense as a catch-all word for those who have succumbed to stupid ideas. Mrs. Clinton might be considered an idiot in this latter euphemistic sense but she is not a real idiot in the sense that the village idiot is a real idiot. She is not “deficient in mind” but defective in reasoning, the latter of which is a consequence of bad philosophy. A real village idiot, on the other hand, is mentally disabled and is, therefore, unable to grasp or grapple with any philosophy, good or bad. He is innocent of the criminal negligence of the mind to which Mrs. Clinton has succumbed for the simple reason that he is innocent in the primal sense in which he is incapable of being guilty. He is not culpable for his idiocy and, in turn, his idiocy makes him incapable of culpability. He is truly innocent which is why he is sometimes seen as a holy innocent, or a holy fool. He is not the same as the holy fool who acts foolish in the eyes of the world in order to teach the worldly wise other-worldly wisdom; he is not, therefore, like certain Old Testament prophets or Christian saints, or literary “holy fools,” such as Poor Tom in Shakespeare’s King Lear, Prince Myskin in Dostoyevsky’s The Idiot, Innocent Smith in Chesterton’s Manalive, or the eponymous hero in Myles Connolly’s novel, Mr. Blue. He is not acting the idiot, he is the idiot.

Although village idiots come in many shapes and sizes, the most recognizable is the one whom modern science has labeled as having Down syndrome. It takes a village, as well as a family, to look after such people.

How the village looks after its idiots says a great deal about the state of the village. In healthy communities the whole village helps the one who is mentally handicapped, knowing that he needs the charity of those around him; and let’s remember that charity is the anglicized form of the Latin, caritas, which is divine love, the love that God lavishes on all of us. If caritas reigns in the hearts and in the actions of the villagers, especially in the way that they treat the weakest and most helpless members of the community, the village will prosper; if caritas is absent, the weakest will be neglected or even destroyed so that the strong can be liberated from their responsibility to the weak and vulnerable. In the latter case, the village soon becomes a place where the strongest tyrannize the weak.

The place of the village idiot as the touchstone or litmus test for the judging of the health of society is central to the plot of two wonderful works of literature. In Flannery O’Connor’s novel, The Violent Bear It Away, the attitude of the “healthy” characters to the mentally disabled child serves as the very means by which we judge them. Insofar as we see the child as the innocent victim of the sins of others we see him as symbolic of the scourged and suffering Christ. In Arthur Powers’ novella, The Book of Jotham, we see the life of Christ through the eyes of a mentally disabled disciple, judging the goodness of the other disciples by the manner in which they see or fail to see the goodness of the idiot in their midst.

Moving beyond the truth of fiction to the ugly world of fact, the historian Mark Deavin has uncovered evidence of the Nazi government’s extermination of children with Down syndrome in the 1930s. In our own day, and in the same demonic spirit as that which animated the Nazis, countries such as Iceland boast of their own Final Solution to the idiot problem. In that frozen land, in which hearts are turned to ice by the sin of pride, every child with Down syndrome is systematically exterminated in the womb, butchered as soon as genetic testing reveals the extra chromosome. And lest we think such horrific genocide is restricted to Norse barbarians in the Nazi German past or the neo-Nazi Icelandic present, we should realize that politicians, such as Mrs. Clinton, believe that a mother has the right to choose to kill her own idiot children, should she wish, as she has the right to kill any of her other children, idiot or otherwise. It’s not a question of whether it takes a family or a village to raise a child, it’s whether a mother has the right to raze them.

It has been said that most of us are here to learn but that children with Down syndrome are here to teach. Those with mental disabilities teach us the most valuable lessons about the real heart of love, which is that we must sacrifice ourselves for others and not sacrifice others for ourselves.

It takes a village idiot to teach such lessons. Without such teachers, we become tyrants.

The Imaginative Conservative applies the principle of appreciation to the discussion of culture and politics as we approach dialogue with magnanimity rather than with mere civility. Will you help us remain a refreshing oasis in the increasingly contentious arena of modern discourse? Please consider donating now.

Internal dialogue - continued;

Yes, Friedrich Nietzsche, the philosopher of “der Ubermensch,” the Superman, and the famous quote, “God is dead,” is not very smart. Of course, that’s probably because he’s been dead since 1900. It is a little difficult to think once you are no longer alive and your brain has turned to stinky muck in your coffin under the ground. And you cannot hope to defend your recorded intelligence in the written works you have left behind if you are totally dead and unaware of how people may be misinterpreting your ideas.

This is old crazy Fred with his pet hairy caterpillar which he always kept right under his nose his whole adult life.
Crazy Fred was born in 1844. He was multi-talented, being a philosopher, poet, musical composer, and a writer of fiction. He was something of a genius for a while. At the age of 24 he became the youngest person ever to hold the prestigious Chair of Classical Philology at the University of Basel, His radical philosophy created a critique of truth that leaned in favor of perspectivism. And as he continued down paths of making ironic aphorisms and exercising his wits to wander into thinking that life is meaningless and the roots of nihilism, he more or less stumbled into the view of his philosophy that there was no hope for the future but the improvement of the self.

I think it could be argued that Crazy Fred did indeed become a monster with the abyss staring back at him. At the age of 44 he had a complete mental breakdown. After that, for the remaining 11 years of his life, he had to be cared for by his mother… until she died in 1897, and then by his sister Elizabeth until he died in 1900. If street stories are to be believed, he escaped from his home, found a horse being beaten by its owner, stepped in to save the horse from the beating, then turned to the horse, hugged its neck, and died.

This drawing by Hans Olde shows Crazy Fred during his insane years. It was used as a textbook illustration for dementia.
His writings were inherited by his sister Elizabeth. And she was an ultra-nationalist. Under her management, his writings were edited to fit her agenda for a new Germany, and so his ideas were credited with founding the Nazi movement and the quest for Aryan superiority… eugenics and genocide were to follow.

Ironically, Crazy Fred was radically opposed to anti-Semitism and most of the ideas that Hitler and the Nazis would give him credit for.

Don’t get me wrong. There are a lot of good things in Crazy Fred’s philosophical teachings that make him worth reading and studying. He identified two distinct forms of thought that operate in culture. He called them Apollonian and Dionysian styles of thinking. Apollonian is associated with the sun god Apollo, rationalism, logic, order, and clarity. Dionysian is associated with the god of wine and sensuality, Dionysius, emotionality, chaos, intuition, and obscurity. These cultural definitions are very useful for understanding human behavior.

But Crazy Fred is controversial to this day. I am not the only one that thinks he’s a coocoo bird and wrong about a lot of things. And, yet, his work led to very good things as well as the questionable. Much of the philosophy of the 1960’s owes its progress to him, from the Apollonian Bertrand Russel to the Dionysian Albert Camus.

Nietzsche said, “What doesn’t kill us, makes us stronger.”

Clearly, I believe I myself am proof that Crazy Fred was wrong about that one. After six incurable diseases, surviving skin cancer, and making it most of the way through the Covid Pandemic alive, an awful lot of things didn’t kill me so far. By rights, if what Fred said is true, then I should be stronger than Superman. X-ray vision and the power of flight too. You can tell by the picture that if I am like Superman, then I have seen entirely too much Kryptonite up close.”

I love the Imaginative Conservative (now). Thank you for sharing.

Do. Or do not. There is no may.

Well yeah remembering Arminius’ comment on the Democratic female contender’s platform and how her election would spring not too magical cloud mushrooms in the sky, and heard Trump having secret conversations under the table with Putin, then the epitaph better red then dead, all this making any irregulated political process null and void.

So what if?

Public sentiment can’t support him now?

Always felt things moving too fast for AI’s taste, and humanity can’t catch up cuddling sentimentality.

Just put 2 and 2 together and get 1

How does that tickle anyone’s fancy?

I read your internal dialogue.

Trump has lost it. If the media can go dark on him, I hope it does.

“I am your retribution.” - Trump

No. This can’t happen.

But neither can the alternative :frowning:

I choose this:

Be good. Please be good.

What a rude awakening.

Yes alter-natives are everywhere, trying to change both because they are grayish phantoms who have more bark than bite.

The natives are getting more restless by the minute, because the ARE natural beings, messengers trying to get stuff across, but against such odds, carrying their life ad upwards kind of feeling futile to the uncounted reps of witnessing it tumble down toward the abyss, just alerted in time before awakened from doom to somehow catch the hurling thing, before hitting bottom.

If it was not really real, then Salome could afford to finally drop her seventh veil, as Scheherazade for her life on the line, kep telling the stories to keep entertainment going,

But when you say can’t that it can not happen, well I don’t know never say never, Trump lately said ( in The NY Times, that if his criminal investigation is allowed to go too far, he will unleash his awesome power and recruit those ardent followers to violently attack, similar to the power grab on the Capital, the very same people who were doing that, copy sting the attack on the Bastile, and who knows this may just as well be a type of prefigured reaction of those, repressed and defunkted, by daily pressures of diminishingly returned causes and effects, for Marx may have been right on this one?

This idea may have a double as well, an unseemly , unseemly doubling work of the idiotic repossessed multitude, that human beings are uncontrollable as far as their boundless thirst fire more and more,

Envying their brothers , killing them out of spite and repressed anger, so that impressions of their value and worth be empowered, in more and more effective way to dominate the dominators, they whom present them with no exit kind of insolvable situations such as: well don’t think you can outfox us for if you are near to achieving that politically, will , we will undermine thus platform by inflating value, so to eat away your gains.

Betwin that and the opppsite which promote a Trump-Putin silent agreement and who says a person under investigation is entitled to a square deal, and the whole your innocent until proven guilty is in no way a show of a violation of the 2nd amendment because the tiniest ‘proof’ of the slightest irregulatiin presents a crack in the argument, by which the triangle fears a tip over the sides, the literal tipping over the edges unto the very tippy toe.

Alfred e newman

Never ever say impossible, a lunatic could do so, every thing is fair in love or war, as times rolls toward a frightening scene Brueghel could blink and die if stage fright here, as the last man near a frightful scene, who has descended there, has only one hope left to measure his manhood by: replicants, images empty frescos, fits on a blank , paper thin rustles, in a wary universe.

Weary is Everyman in this time of greatest and most ominous struggles ever this planet has seen, the very reason unbounded, not many have in dire prophesied, as the world turns.

Unhappy Man, that sexual reduction to the image conceives a messenger of God to concern Himself with such trite and consumed by it, oh no, the grey mist overpowering the simulated stimulation, the hopeless cry in the desert of live, no on the contrary say some wise ones, the day is almost there when any man can prefigure that kind of doubt with the futility of phantom sex, by incorporating AI with an evolved AO, a cyborg full of the image which was prostrated according to some - a perfect being, with a abstracted if need be compressed holographic image to the exact replica with which to have intercourse with, to abide for his alien nation.

Anyone entering this crap is forewarned not to try to elicit an epithet by virtue of a butterfly effect, but if need be, then go ahead, there is a lot more programs can be degenerated , to bar entrance, just so he can bring in and tighten the slack, so that those following may be empowered to see the right of light, of life, that the posterity may not be a conflation with the posterior.

( written in a moment of rage, against a machine, which has become an absolute generational necessity)

Moral: never ever say never

Never. I would never say never. I’m never saying it right now. When have I ever said never? I’ll tell you when: never. Never is now-or-never is now.


That is saying never, when ever

heylionation - helio - helical nation



hella hellen keller colornstation

sprocket spacely space


What’s your line? … 0#p2917360