NASA To Bomb Osama's Moon Bunker

NASA plans to bomb the moon in October of this year, having launched the mission on the 18th of June. They claim that they are bombing for water particles, but we all know the truth.

Osama bin Laden has been hiding out in one of the craters of the moon, colonising it with terrorist cells. He has a proven ability for surviving in barren, desolate, and remote areas. But NASA's hot on the trail and will blow him out even if it means destroying heaven and earth to accomplish the task.

"Disturbing the Moon's orbit may cause tidal waves and quite possibly Earthquakes in many zones around the Earth where the edges of tectonic plates are already at or near the breaking point of sliding" (Ted Twietmeyer, "NASA Moon Bombing Is Cause For Worry," 22 June 2009, rense.com)

But nevermind that. And even if bin Laden escapes again, at least, the moon will have a nice five-mile wide gash for "science" to study, and NASA will prove that bombing is a great way to create life just as it is here on earth.

I know that around here, we aim missiles at our property to find water all the time. It works like a charm.

My mind hearkens back to an old John Wayne movie in which he arrives at Terrapin Springs, dying of thirst along with two fugitive friends, only to discover that the idiot green horn pioneers have dynamited the spring, closing it forever.

If "science" claims as fact that humans can cause climate change, then why is it that in this situation we won't cause harmful change?

Won't Come Back From Dead Man's Curve!

The Bard remembers the good old days--the days when there were still a few deafening engines mowing down the stop lights, and there were some who thought it cool to drive hoodless. I don't know, perhaps, driving hoodless was due to laziness, or improper latching, or some other malfunction, but it was cool. Those that chose to leave the hood back in the trailer court really had nothing to show off, since the hoodless vehicles were also the ones that needed the most paint and looked as if they had been run into signposts, and deer, and old ladies, and other obstructions. But it didn't matter because they made the most noise.

Ah, the good old days when the good old cars were still on the road. One acquaintance had a particularly special car. Oh, my! It was in mint condition with perfect white vinyl covered seats. And they were bench seats, which means that everyone gets to sit in the front. A hundred miles an hour down Main St. once, was what the officer said! But that was nothing.

Now, there is an automobile euthanasia program called the Car Allowance Rebate System aka "Cash for Clunkers," which seeks to rid the streets of these old reliables because they are now considered liabilities and wasteful burdens.

Really, the car must not be a clunker if it is still registered and drivable. A real clunker, one that has been sitting in the back forty is not eligible for the government voucher upon trade in.

Somehow, this program strikes me as disturbing. When the old vehicle is turned in to the dealer the engine must be destroyed before the car can be sold for scrap. This is how it is to be done: "Drain the oil, then run several quarts of sodium silicate through the engine. As engine heat evaporates the solution, deposits of dehydrated sodium silicate line the engine's lubrication system, abrading all the moving parts and causing the engine to seize" ("'Cash for Clunkers' starts Monday" msn.com).

"Scrap facilities can sell any part of the car except the engine block or whole drive train, but ultimately the car must be taken off the road" ("Cash").

This seems incredibly wasteful and disrespectful of a healthy and strong, although old vehicle. And where will the scrap parts be sold to? If I were to guess, China, which has quite a trade in scrap parts and bodies of all sorts. If it bleeds blood or oil they'll profit from the parts and sell it back to us in a repackaged form.

Image: 1986 Chevrolet Monte Carlo SS

Jean, Jean, Dressed In Green

This Bard doesn't much feel up to writing the history of the American Lawgiver, Tekanawita, at the moment. Great Laws of Peace only work for a time, disappearing under the heaps of laws piled upon them stinking up the air, causing false religious practices and legalism to spring up like noxious weeds.

Look at the most famous man of the Law, Moses. He brought down 10 very basic laws to live by (plus a few more), but as is the way with people, this was not enough. Over the years there were many more laws and rituals added on until it became a competition to see who could complete the most rituals, tithe the most, and know the law the best.

Now, we are living in the most religious time of all. We are quite medieval in our superstitious fear of the earth, in our belief that we can save it with tithes/indulgences/carbon credits/whatever. We are quite Hitlerian in our obsession with eradicating cancer, smoking, meat, and undesirables. And we are much like East Berlin before the fall of the wall, in our self-censoring. We are very Roman Catholic in our favoring the community over the individual. We are very Roman Catholic in our belief that those who do not want to worship the earth religion, pay indulgences, or participate in its sacred rites are called heretics.

Who are the priests making the tons of money off our ignorance? Who are the ones pushing those toxic fluorescent time bombs called light bulbs on us? If they really cared, if they really wanted what was best for the serfs, the High Priests of Mother Earth and Global Consciousness would not allow mercury-filled toxins in our homes and into the landfills. The Green People don't care about this wonderful land, and they hate all of the pernicious people who continue the multiply in spite of their laws. They only care about Green Money and "sustainability."

And so, the Bard would like to conclude with a sweet song of Jean. Here, the Bard has it all figured out. Our relationship with the earth is one of images which are to remind us of something better. No river, no flower, no bird compares with Bonny Jean. If the Bard had written of how Jean did not compare with the hills, the flowers, the birds or the air, he would not have been a poet, but an unmentionable dupe. Jean wins. The beautiful earth and its creatures remind us of her, and should also remind us of their Creator.

"I Love My Jean"

Of a' the airts the wind can blaw,
I dearly like the west,
For there the bony Lassie lives,
The Lassie I lo'e the best:
There's wild-woods grow, and rivers row,
And mony a hill between;
But day and night my fancy's flight
Is ever wi' my Jean.

I see her in the dewy flowers,
I see her sweet and fair;
I hear her in the tunefu' birds,
I hear her charm the air:
There's not a bony flower, that springs
By fountain, shaw, or green,
There's not a bony bird that sings,
But minds me o' my Jean

Image: Praire by Ken Furrow