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And The Meek Shall Inherit the Earth

And The Meek Shall Inherit the Earth

Paul Schroeder's picture

And the Meek shall Inherit the Earth

by Paul Schroeder
“To consider the earth as the only populated world in infinite space is as absurd as to assent that, in an entire field sown with millet, only one grain would grow…”
Metrodorus, Greek sage Fourth Century BC
It had been two full days since the darkness and rain had begun.
On May 11th, 700 people crammed into an auditorium that seated only five hundred.
It began to rain in torrents,

a rain unlike any other rain.

It rained streams, drenching and swelling, a deluge of rain and it rained and it never stopped raining.
It was a rain that turned rivulets into streams and streams into frozen rivers.
It molted the bushes and trees of leaves and it shrank the wet hands of men into the shriveled claws of apes.
The rain slapped a half lit cigarette from Dr. Paul Schroeder’s hand as he entered the hall, cupped his hands from the rain to shelter his cigarette lighter.
Dark storm clouds threatened; in the distance thunder rumbled.
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Dr. Schroeder was 58 years old,
 chain smoked cigarettes, as he paced nervously and he gesticulated nervously with his hands as he spoke.
He stood on the auditorium stage of St. John’s University Avery Hall, behind a lit lectern with a yellow spotlight surrounding him.

As he spoke, on a large screen behind him flashed preprogrammed 35 mm slides in five second intervals, photos of UFOs and artist’s renderings of myriad alien life forms.Alien Mind Scan

In the back of the auditorium, a priest in a dark double breasted suit slipped into the hall during the screen change and sat in the last row,
 twisted in the seat, topped by a  wet, yellow rain hood which hid his blue eyes.
The voice on the microphone was deep and resonant:
“The darkness and rain in America  has made the front page in every nation in the world. “
“But, here in America, the press did not cover that at 8 o’clock, at the same moment on the other side of the world,  a rain and gloom descended without hints of clouds throughout Sri Lanka and all of Zanzibar.”

“UFOs were seen in the skies in both parts of the world just before the rain and the darkness fell, in America and in Zanzibar.”

“Perhaps the fate of the Earth and the continuation of human life forms hang in the balance.”
“Although unpredictable, all sightings of UFO’s and all abduction experiences have a shared purpose:
to change human consciousness and its relationship to the world and to each other and to replace mankind. “
” I  call it, “The Noah Effect.”
“We, on Earth, have been for millennia like fleas on a dog’s pelt,  convinced that  our world has been ordained perfectly for our existence; but that theory falls apart when the dog’s mistress gets a flea collar.”
“The human genome research  tells us that within ‘junk DNA’, the time intervals for alien DNA manipulation were respectively 25,000, 15,000, 5,000 and 2,500 years ago.”
“What this means is that the interaction between aliens, UFOs and us is not just a 20 th century phenomenon, but rather, one of millennia; it turns out that we are somebody’s experiment.”
“They may very well have farmed us throughout the Universe.”
“There is even evidence that aliens placed our Moon to stabilize Earth’s wobble and climatic fluctuations.”
He shook his head wistfully;
“Moses and the burning bush, and Jesus’ ascension, Fatima, Abraham,
the founder of the Mormon Church,  simply encountered creatures known for  abduction experiences.”
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“For the first time in human consciousness and human history we are now studying something that had been studying us, but our insights and realizations of what is happening was always vectored off.”

“We are in the proverbial corridor of mirrors with a quicksand floor.”

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“When one hears about a string of boxcars on a railroad track that suddenly goes straight up in the air, a little biplane that moves into fog and comes out a disc, a silent helicopter which turns into a disc, or oil barrels in Oklahoma that rise vertically straight up, one realizes that there is something about this phenomenon, at every level, that seems to be disguising itself.”
Alien Mind Scan
“And now the rains and the darkness have descended upon the Earth”
In the background the screen showed a being-type that was half reptile and half human; a smooth lizard-skinned reptilian, eight feet tall with a saurian face.
It had a four-clawed hand with brown webbing between the fingers.

The caption underneath the picture read:

“This reptile type has cat-like eyes with gold-slit pupils.

This being is sinister and deceptive in manner.”

Schroeder’s voice loomed over the crowded auditorium:
” DNA research tells us that all races on Earth today, no matter how diverse, came from a common ancestor, a single pair of parents who lived 128,000 years ago. :Noah.”
“The Bible states that God chose Noah to survive because he was a righteous man, who
 followed God’s laws. ‘
“That was the only criteria for his and his seed’s survival .
“The blueprints,  architectural directions  to make up each dimension of the ark , hardly a spiritual, divine philosophical guidance, were specific directions to build a worthy seafaring ship.”
“Everyone but Noah’s line vanished in darkness of waters and the very same thing appears to be poised to happen, again, today.
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Aliens, through exams of abductees seem to be testing for the mystery of goodness in human beings.”

” Apparently, the rarity in the race of mankind for the propensity of goodness, is worth saving and perhaps even a mystery to them.”
He looked towards the far end of the auditorium into the darkness .
” Why would a priest deny material wealth and sacrifice his life for helping the poor?”

“Why would a G. I. throw himself on a live grenade, to save a group of men in a trench that he had never met ?”

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“This strange darkness and the flooding rains that will not stop as well as the alien craft that fill the skies above all nations suggest that the human race, in its present form, may well be facing its end.”
The priest stood and from the back of the auditorium, in a stentorian voice, addressed Dr. Schroeder:
“I disagree; that’s a rather childish, religious view.”
” Gods MAY have intervened directly in the affairs of mankind:  the malevolence of the Holocaust,  great famines, plagues,   terrible suffering on Earth.
“Last month,  psychics who work in the intelligence community.
 have uniformly learned that a council of nine from a Galactic Trade Union, representing some fifty worlds, will not interfere; they were told outright:
“You are a small planet of no particular significance.”
“We can’t look for help anywhere but in ourselves.
Our government policy is a confused mixture of denial and cover-ups which fuel conspiracy theories.”
“In truth, for them, this whole phenomenon is excruciating.”
“It is, after all, the business of government to protect its people.”
“Our government knew all along that if it affirmed and acknowledged that alien beings from radar-defying craft which defied gravity and space time had long been invading homes and abducting its citizens, it would cause world-wide political and religious upheavals and  world economic upheavals.”
“So the secret stayed a secret in the name of national security ,
an oxymoron.”
“The traces of post-abduction are subtle: bad dreams, fast growing hair and fingernails, there is a detectable luminous phosphorescence on abductee’s skin, detectable with black light.”
“Alien abductees are resistant to pain- killers, like Novocain and may even awaken during surgery.”
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“I’ve noticed that abductees have much higher serotonin levels than other people do;
 higher levels of serotonin may make it easier for alien entities to contact these people.”

“But the unhappy evidence suggests that most people who have entered an alien spaceship will not remember the experience or ever know what has happened to them except in recollections of so-called dreams or under medical hypnosis.”

ABDUCTION | Original
“But few people can remember or even examine their dreams, dreams lost, as they struggle into consciousness each morning.”
“Throughout the world,” he said, “abduction has long been a frightening experience that many therapists would rather not acknowledge unless symptoms resulting from the encounter require them to do so.”
“For most people it’s just terrifying nightmares that they barely remember.”
He put his hands in his pockets and fished for another pack of cigarettes.
“My understanding of the alien-phenomenon has grown:
“Small, large-eyed, telepathic creatures are playing at Frankenstein in space suits, genetically engineering a “new” hybrid creature, the best of both their race and mankind’s, to replace us, who they feel are the destroyers of this planet.”
“The ones who show courage, charity, self sacrifice and openness will be saved, along with their seed.”
He sighed; “Like Neanderthals, who vanished mysteriously, today’s breed of mankind has been judged and again, the verdict is annihilation.”
He suddenly grew angry.
“Doesn’t it strike you that there is an inherent burning irony?” he said.
“Although these creatures are seeking the complex, extraordinary nature of what goodness is in us, they must be morally depraved themselves,  to turn the whole world into a flooded Auschwitz!”
PART 2

In Lynne, Oklahoma, at the Church of Martyrs diocese, Father Daniel Mahoney, a priest, was sitting in the rectory library.
‘He possessed a fine, beatific quality delicate for all his great size and his enormous eyes, far-looking blue circles of innocence, especially when seen against the black cloth of a priest’s habit, were an impressive sight.’
He was surrounded by copies of daily newspapers, but his attention was captured by a moldy, historical, manuscript and he read aloud:

“Such strangeness and such mysterious facts, those sudden shadows that fall in broad daylight when there is neither any cloudiness nor an eclipse.

The typical case is one that occurred on December 20, 1484, in Preston, England: toward noon, the sky became completely black, to the point that animals lay down and went to sleep.
Twenty minutes later, the sun reappeared. We know of several hundred cases of this type, without having any explanation for them.”
It has been suggested that they are caused by thick clouds of smoke from forest fires, but generally there has been no sign of forest fires at the time of these incidents, and when there has been, these smoke clouds have never been observed between the spot where the fire took place and the place where the phenomenon occurred.

The strangest of these darkening phenomena occurred in London on August 19, 1763.
The most amazing thing about this occurrence was that the shadows seemed to have been completely impenetrable by lantern or candlelight. If this was a case of smoke so thick it would have left traces on objects and did not.”
PART 3
Outside, the rain poured like an overhead river from dark skies; the streets were ponds and small lakes which crept steadily to cover gardens and sidewalks.
The priest took the subway home and walked upstairs to his fourth floor walk up apartment.

In the sink under a dripping, dripping, dripping faucet, were old sardine tins, cans of half eaten food, half- smoked cigar butts and dirty dishes.

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The room reeked of life lived too long with the windows closed.
He put on the television and sat on the end of the bed, removing his priestly vestments, mouthing aloud the names like a holy litany:
“cassock, dalmatics, tunic, surplice, maniple, amice, alb, and cincture.”

When he desperately wanted something from God or he was in real trouble, he would recite the words as his own private prayer.
He lit a remnant of a cigar and put the butt out on the frame of the mattress.

He swung his legs to the floor and stepped barefoot onto a large cockroach.

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White- faced, he sat on the bed again and scraped the remnants of the cockroach off of his foot with a matchbook cover, and grinned with the deeper muscles of his face.
He took a syringe from under his pillow and stuck it in his arm.
He was dreaming the same dream again.
He was walking the crowded cobblestone streets to Golgotha; in the angry crowd that thronged the crowded streets he saw his parents, their heads shaven, their purple gums conversing in clicks like bushmen.
He woke with a start.

A large, potted plant across the room shook violently, incomprehensibly.

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He stared and his jaw dropped slowly.
He felt a slight depression on the end of the bed; something feather- light and invisible had just jumped up, catlike on the blanket.
The ancient floorboards by his bed creaked, then by his dresser, then by the window.
He was frightened by the sense that there was somebody in the room with him, he couldn’t see .
He fought the impulse to jump up.

Then despite fear of such intensity that it caused him to shake, he lay down again on the bed to escape his fear.

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Overhead above the red bricked four story apartment building, a silver colored football shaped object hovered.
In the darkness and in the pouring rain, a craft had appeared from nowhere suddenly.
It was mostly gray in color, with a bright purple light on one side and a small blinking blue light on the other,
double-decked with two rows of lighted windows; the light coming from them was bluish-white and phosphorescent.
The craft was about fifty feet long and maybe twenty feet thick.
Two vertical side seams in the structure and lines of rivets along the seams were lit up by the red glow of the underside where reddish vapor was being discharged.
Yellowish vapor oozed from one of the ends and the craft settled behind a large sycamore tree.
At that moment, the television program in the next room was completely washed out in static.
A beeping noise.
He rose into a waiting craft as he watched his body below, recede from view.
A wild torrent of precipitation.
Continuous waves of rain that screamed, boiled and whispered.
Then the green oceans covered the Earth.
The first wave that hit cut coastal cities off from a world that had bubbled in the direct pour of moonlight, stiff waves, then a  mountainous whistling skyscraper of a wave, brutal, and then a row of like mountainous waves.
Sky – touched brine tsunamis of oceans, valleys of seas, cascading waves and roiling heights, lowered a scrim over the harsh world and erased all land traces.

A planet of waves a thousand feet tall, rolled in on all the battered coasts of the world and drowned all traces of land.

Mountains of green thunder towered onto and consumed Earth and every living thing that could breathe air.

Deluged months of torrential oceans and then calmer years of heavy rain, continuous waves of rain that  boiled and whispered.

A century of wild torrent, precipitation’s white fountains stiff waves, and then

 dry land emerged.


Flotillas of oval craft descended from the heavens, laden with seed, corms and fruit trees and a newer crop :
a race of silent, hairless, thin beings walked upon the planet in quiet contemplation.
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And on a Spring day in early April, the clouds cleared and rainbows were born :

The meek, had inherited the Earth.

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IN THE BATTLE OF THE SEXES, CAMOUFLAGE PREVAILS

IN THE BATTLE OF THE SEXES, CAMOUFLAGE PREVAILS

 by Paul Schroeder

“Sex is not the answer.
Sex is the question.
The answer, is ‘YES’!”
(Woody Allen)

Since sex is less than five or ten percent of a marriage, those who marry just for sex, find imposing reasons later on in the relationship, to not confine sex, within the parameters of their marriage, but remain as faithful, as their options and opportunities.

 

After all, man DOES need woman for the artistry and complexity of friendship, for filial fun, cute socializing, profound partnering, and deep soul intimacy, but they may not ALL BE with the SAME woman.

Women wander sexually, as well, as statistics reveal, that every other wife strays to another’s arms, for love making.

 

I often thought that women had it better than men and that if I were a woman, without any love, I’d be down at the docks,  no underwear, waiting for the fleet to come in, with my skirt pulled over my head.

More and more women today, say aloud, that they “don’t need any man, anymore, even for sex, but that they DO need men , sometimes, but then, ONLY, to lift and move, heavy things around…

 

There surely HAS to be some more dignified way of expressing desire and passionate love for another human being, because the human body is a sad marvel, with its waste disposal plant, immediately adjoining its amusement park area.

Sex, is forever something that parents are loathe to discuss with their children; when I was a child of seven, they mentioned the fearful danger of sex, saying, “not to play around with sex, because it was,”playing with fire.”

At seven years old, I recall thinking,

“Well, I HAVE a hose…

But one who marries, just for sex, is buying a 747 jet, just for the little bag of peanuts.

Surely, there’s other ways to get peanuts, if that’s all that you really want.

Yes, men are more shallow than one would imagine, and will as soon marry for sumptuous breasts, than for love, an idea so repulsive and childish, that it takes much head shaking, to comprehend,  because spiritual
love is appreciating, sharing, empathy and giving, quite bereft of the pangs of lust.
Yet, for all men’s fascination with women’s breasts, should men themselves,  overweight  develop breasts, they  do chafe ingloriously, upset about those unmanly acquisitions.
                                                 

Men are more juvenile in primitive sexual drives and emotional makeup, and women are indeed, far better human beings, providential, sensitive, charitable, strong and beautiful.

This DNA primate difference can be demonstrated.

At a very young age, place a group of five-year-old girls, in a room together, and they will sit, talk and relate to each other with civil chatter, sharing, and often with surprising wisdom.
 But, place a group of five-year-old boys in a room together,  and soon they will roll all over the floor, like shaved gorillas, lost in individual and mutual combative power fantasies.

Our lingering social notion  that men are more important, more apt and more likely to be leaders, is still a hard social prejudice to quell.

Equality, in mutual passion, is easier to demonstrate:

When a cop on the beat encounters a young couple making love in the tall grass, in a park, he does NOT tap their shoes with his nightstick to angrily demand,

” All right, now, WHO’S in charge, here ?!”

Progress will turn HIStory, into HERstory.

Women remain naive and not the least bit aware of men’s glandular functioning concepts towards all women.

At a party or wedding,

men view a woman’s public, licentious exaggerated undulations in dance as her being naked,  and sexual fantasies unfurl

deep within men’s psyches.

Dance becomes sex in visualized fantasies of private encounters with these licentious, and actively lithe women on the dance floor.

For women,  few rarely grasp that their public dancing, is clearly nothing but public, overt, symbolic sex.

 

Perhaps this makeup makes it still a man’s world, because it’s much easier, in society, to BE a man:

Each solitary, individual feature on your face always stays its birth shade and original color.

Methinks, that If men wore makeup, most would be disconcertingly prettier than many women.

If a man chooses, he might, perhaps, consider a cosmetic shave, but ONLY to some parts of his face and neck.

You can always wear shorts despite how awful your legs do look.

Your last name, regardless of marital -legal battles, stays put.

People do not ever stare at your breasts and your nipples when you’re happily chatting with them.

You are genetically and socially blind to any but the biggest wrinkles in your clothing.

Calorie intake and belly size are never a crucial consideration.

 

You always have the consummate and total freedom of choice about the growing of a mustache.

 

You don’t have to remove all of your clothes just to pee.

 

You can wake up just as attractive as you were when you went to bed, rather than have your beauty somehow deteriorate, during the night.

 

You can more easily, socially, defend your space, with knee-jerk displays of violence.

Woman, as the pretty sex, is a relatively new idea:

 

Pirates who wore the perfumes, jewelry, silks and frills echoed this olden concept of male beauty; a classical nude in statue, was almost ALWAYS male, historically, in ancient Greece and Rome.
This classic maleness model of beauty oddly reversed itself in the eighteenth century and women became the “pretty sex”, instead.

Throughout the animal world, whether it flies or swims, the male is STILL the colorful sex, the female, the drab one.

 

But since the eighteenth century, sexual and cultural reversals have oddly persisted in human affairs, and women instead have become the pretty sex.

But “pretty” means, slim and skinny, as fashion dictates.

 

Today, women who carry a few extra pounds, live longer than the men, who mention it…

Straight men, do not adorn themselves towards being highly polished- exceptions exist for politicians, actors, sports-stars, head gangsters, and police detectives, for within these men, narcissism, a sinful sense of entitlement, and monumental ego all loom.

 

In those egomaniac ‘types’ , highly-polished, self-preening is always accompanied by bullying others.
But the question remains, for the sake of guile and deceit: how curried and airbrushed is too curried and airbrushed?
The first thing I look at, when I see a polished, curried woman, is her eyebrows; if they’re natural, it’s a blast of honest sexuality that curls my toes.
If they’ve been removed and severe Groucho-Klingon brows, of crayola, at odd sharp angles, or worse,  tattooed on, I experience an anxious ‘turn off’, a social warning of duplicity, and all of my ‘antenna’ are up, and waving..
Women with long lustrous hair have always been sought as mates, because hair grows slowly and vividly reflects one’s general health, so mating was preferred with shiny, long-haired lasses, who were lax with lasciviousness …
But the rub, is that many women who look like floss, patina and veneer, are mostly shallow types who a man has to pay, for an intelligent conversation, because
 they have long cared ONLY about their outsides, and not ever about, their ‘insides’.

‘Beauty’ television commercials and ‘beauty’ magazine ads feature graphics of highly curried women, extolling Western society’s virtues of vacuous, narcissistic women, who gaze back at us, made over into a man’s surreal vision of what ‘beauty’ should look like..

 

In Maine, at a lobster restaurant, I went to the register to pay and behind the counter, opening the register, was a tall, strikingly handsome, buxom woman, in a formal ballgown who sported a large handlebar mustache.

 

Her startling visage has stayed with me, for many years, resplendent and role indigestible..
It’s a cultural facade and mirage of the sadly discarded true value of beauty, which always comes from within.
 A man in our culture says,”You’re beautiful”, before he says, “I love you”, and thus a woman is wrongly taught , that if beauty fades, then love must also fade.
Poorly informed, desperately seeking love, she runs scared to the beauty parlor, nail salon, hair stylist, cosmetic facial and breast implant surgeons, willing to suffer to maintain an airbrushed, curried, artificial “beauty” , so that “love” will not also vanish.

Men perpetrate this hoax until they themselves believe it.

In truth, a woman is as sexy in bed as that woman was interesting, before bed, and interesting, after bed.

But, for many non-self-respecting men, it’s all  just  about  a woman’s exterior patina, and veneer towards sex.

For these men, none of them ever reached under a woman’s skirt, looking for her library card…

 

Men admit that they LOVE women who look hot and who act hot;  homespun, often unwilling women, by comparison, are like radiators, men have to keep touching, to see if the heat’s coming up.

Yes, men are more shallow than one would imagine, more vain than women and more duplicitous in satisfying their overwhelming hormonal drives.

 

Thus, using men’s sex drive, against them, women culturally have been taught guile and deceit from a tender age, to ‘trap a man’, by using their physical, sexual allure:

 

They shave armpits,

shave legs and mustaches,

dye their hair,

use eye-liner,

mascara and false eyelashes,

face makeup,

 

(“Women will never be equal to men until they can walk down the street with a bald head and a beer gut, and still think they are sexy”)

 

 foundation,

earrings,

tints of rouge blush,

sport uplift brassieres,

apply perfumes,

apply lipstick,

go for Botox or plastic surgery to erase facial wrinkles,

 install Hershey-kiss silicone fake breasts,

wear high heels,

designer fingernails,

contact lenses,

  paint fingers and toes.
They put on things, to make them look bigger, and things that make them look smaller;

then, they meet a man,

and  they want, …”HONESTY!!”

Man, refuses to accept that makeup glamour fools the eye and deludes the heart, until he awakens after the wedding to see his bride without any makeup, and in shock thinks, “WHO is THAT?!”

Can such preoccupation with sexual camouflage avoid extra-marital diversion , and allow longevity and truthfulness towards a meaningful marriage?

 

Many couples who have lasted together forever, don’t have to work hard,  to get along  in marriage’.

 

When George Burns and Gracie Allen were asked how they remained so in love after sixty years, he said:

 

‘Marriage is a business.
When you work too hard to make the business of marriage work, you get tired, and when you’re tired , you get annoyed, and when you’re annoyed,  arguments start, and when arguments start…then, you’re OUT of business’ .

I remember once being stopped and asked at Disneyland by a graying and aged couple, to “photograph them”, for it was none other than their “fiftieth anniversary”.

 

I saw the way he held her hand and how they hugged and kissed as I struggled to find and frame the picture.

I wondered what wisdom and marital advice they might share, for too many, marriages end sadly in divorce.

 

These too many short-term marriages, for too many men, seemed to me,  just like a tornado:

 

in the beginning, there’s a lot of sucking and blowing , and later on … you lose the house.

 

Whatever happened to the romantic woman and to the romantic man who said that they could not live without each other?

 

He went East, and she went West… and they both lived.

My wife went over to speak with his wife to comment on how sweet they looked together, but when

I returned the camera as he made his way  over to me,  I asked him the $500,000 lulu question:

 

“What’s the secret to being married, so successfully, for so long?”

 

He looked confidential and wise and peeked to see if his wife was engaged in conversation before he spoke:

 

“You gotta cheat”, he whispered.

Men are like linoleum floors. Lay ’em right and you can walk all over them for thirty years. ~ Betsy Salkind

ALIEN-ABDUCTION MIND-CONTROL


Alien Mind Scan

ALIEN MIND CONTROL DURING ABDUCTIONS

By Paul Schroeder

(Copyright 2014, Paul Schroeder – All Rights Reserved)
<Edited by Robert D. Morniingstar>
*******
Picture
Author’s note:
I am “he”
And this recollection is genuine.
However, I chose the pronoun, “he”, to make this vividly recalled abduction, more easily acceptable to the uninitiated reader.
With mind-control in place, and all questions vectored off before they can be spoken aloud, communication from alien-to-person prevails, with no equanimity possible  towards “conversation”..
ABDUCTION RECOLLECTION:
He is flying high over a lush green tree landscape, over rolling tree lined hills and though he knows that it must be night, within the tractor light-beam, under a moving craft,  the fields and countryside below are lit up as though it were day, but he knows it’s night, because he is told that he is dreaming.

 He is flying, floating above a tree landscape.
For a few brief seconds, until he is drawn into the craft, he sees the green granular nature of the trees below, and feels the  visual exhilaration of flying, but rather than fear, he is filled with a combined sense of peace and joyous happiness.

He marvels at the texture and color of his neighborhood, and his movement above it.

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He is dreaming, but he is awake.The smaller craft lands near a much larger ship, hiding in plain sight, in a field.

A long ramp extends from and to the ship.

 

He is told by a small, dark, grey alien, always just out of sight, that he is to wait on line, for a tour of a country estate.

People stand on the ramp and slowly move forward

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He is numb and is  surreal vividly dreaming,  but he feels that he is awake.He  moves forward, people in front of him and in back of him,   on a narrow path surrounded by a false screen memory of a flat, unidimensional static scene,  a photograph of an English garden.

It is hot and humid with the rank smell of soil.

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People clutch what looks like brochures and move slowly in a single line, towards the country estate, bored, and only mildly interested.

He approaches the door of the large alien craft.

A ticket taker sits at the entrance way, on a stool behind a lectern, observing the entering crowd, a doorway official seen as a slim teenager.

He thinks it odd, that such a young caretaker should seemingly be in charge, and as he lifts his eyes to meet the teen’s gaze,  the young boy turns into a kindly old man.

“It’s mind control, not shape-shifting”, he is told, by a sonorous tour-guide’s voice, in answer to his unasked thought.

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Everyone is awake and dreaming.

Inside is a waiting room, dirty, dull and round, a white room with no adornments and a black floor.


He awakens, dreaming and feels that the room is in flight.

It is a dream within a dream.

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Awake again, briefly, he is dreaming while standing upright, walking in his sleep, climbing  a steep metal stairway ladder path-bridge, that leads to a very large room at the top of the stairs.

Someone in front of him dreams, and wakes up dreaming.

He looks to his right, as he climbs, to see  an enormous domed -curved window which makes up the staircase’s whole upper wall of the alien craft, and as he climbs, feeling very numb, he pauses, and stops the line of mass abducted people.

He looks out of the window and sees the Earth and the Moon, opposite each other, hanging in the blackness of space.   He places his arms on the curved railing where the staircase meets the bottom of the window and cups his chin in his hands, to understand the raw beauty of what he sees:

Outside is blackness…

 

The Earth, in the far right portion of the glass window, hangs suspended in a black nothingness, a planet swimming in blue-white haze, with a large red area, perhaps, the desert of North Africa, or the Arabian peninsula.
A Time-Lapse of Earth taken by Elektro-L, The Russian Weather Satellite that Operates in Geostationary Orbit. (io9)Silver and bright, the Moon, far to the left portion of the glass, also hangs suspended in a black nothingness..

Far away, violet splashes of nebulae, and points of red pinpoint starlight, intersperse with millions of white stars.

Chin in his hands, he leans over and says in a wistful, admiring tone,

“These people who live at THIS estate have some view; what a view!”

The small, dark, grey alien tour guide became startled and all at once,  the window’s 3-D space scene, becomes  a painted uni-dimensional flat portrait,  of an English garden landscape.Chin in hands, still looking out of the window, but now at the expanse of poster-like green lawn, of a garden landscape, he dully repeats,

“They DO have a nice view!”

The tour guide, startled to hear him repeat this praise, seemingly unaware that the scene of the garden had already worked to distract him,  knee-jerk- reflex -overreacted; he is slammed with a mind control jolt.

lsd aliens GIF

The alien creature tightens and magnifies its short psychic leash of control to throw him into a vivid emotional ecstasy, and he feels compelled to look down at his feet, and away from the window’s view.

 

The simple metallic ladder- path underfoot, transforms into carved inlaid wood one, delicately patterned and dazzlingly ornate, an inlaid ebony and maple wood design, cryptic and deeply beautiful in motif and complexity.
He is forced to kneel to examine it, his eyes now fully away from the stars, Earth and moon, seen outside the enormous, curved window .
Powerful awe, love, and wood -admiration, a godlike reverence of wood, flashes through his mind at the mirage of the intricate wood designed staircase, suspended in air.
Opulent stenciled ornament on grand staircase in a elegant Victorian-Era townhouse in Pittsburgh.
Complex, gorgeous and lushly constructed, a staircase in multicolored woods,  forces an almost religious awe, which courses through his brain,  to thrill him, a tsunami of reverent awe for the dazzling wood patterns, and for the unknown artist-architect, overwhelms and distracts him, a gifted attempt to get him to forget what he has seen outside of the craft’s window.
The sleeping line of climbing people is now fully stopped by his fawning and repeated examinations, of the simple metal staircase, as he repeatedly retraces his steps to examine it, in a rapture.
.https://i1.wp.com/www.veteranstoday.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/02/alien-midway.jpg

The tour guide, just out of sight, presumes that the delusion is strong enough to have worked and he hears a resonant, deep, paternal, impatient voice, now within his head, “Just keep going; it will be there, for you to see, when you get back.”

“But, things change so quickly, in dreams”,  he thinks, “and this gorgeous wood stairway, will likely not be there, when I return.”

He lingers, enthralled.

Opulent stenciled ornament on grand staircase in a elegant Victorian-Era townhouse in Pittsburgh.
The alien ‘ guide’,  who tethers him and all the others, within a snug cocoon of illusions, had deftly made a simple, metal staircase, the un-rightful recipient of that stolen awe, of the magnificent scene viewed outside the craft’s window.
But when he awakens, he DOES remember the staircase and  his monumental awe of the spectacular space scene, outside the curved window, of the alien craft;
“Astounding creatures, uncanny, psychic, mind-bending, short- leash-controls…”
He  dully thinks, when he awakens exhausted, with a dull headache and a copious nose bleed, more tired getting up, than he had been, going to bed.
 And ‘dreams’, in a gnawing realization, could no longer ever again, be trusted  to merely be, .. ‘dreams’…
BIO:
Abductions and their remnant elusive memories have opened all this for me, a confirmed atheist, UNTIL I saw aliens float me out of my body, in my bed, at night.
Then, I knew that they were more interested in an essence, that I never suspected I had:: a Soul.
http://vignette2.wikia.nocookie.net/alienfilm/images/6/65/Alien-real.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20130620214917
*******
Postscript
Rather than a fear-based approach to Dark Force Entity safety and caution, I prescribe a required spiritual “shift”  towards the equally unseen goodness of the spirit world, and away from fear.
Unlearning fear is a step-by-step acceptance and assertion, of one’s spiritual ‘Self’, a distance far and away from fearful  defenses mustered by one’s material physical self.
One’s longitudinal approach to any self-defense must be a spiritual one, and not a physical one.
For defenses to flare, one must  recognize that one is not a person having troubled spiritual problems, but instead an eternal soul having troubling human experiences.
From the stance of self-recognition as an eternal spirit, one can then insist on “one’s own space’ as spiritual fruition.

Avoid  church-based or organized religions and put the Bible on the same shelf as “The Tooth Fairy,” forGod is real, but He’s to be found down a long hall, and somewhere else.

DEBUNKERS OF ALIEN ABDUCTIONS?

DEBUNKERS OF UFOS and ALIEN ABDUCTIONS?

Paul Schroeder's picture
Alien and UFO debunkers clearly join UFO groups to closely monitor those who claim to be alien abductees and to plant seeds of ridicule.

ABDUCTION | Original
From their abject denials, to their deliberate planting of Pollyanna disinformation, about alien creatures and their sinister motives, it can initially and wrongly make one wonder, whether there is intelligent life, on Earth.
Some debunkers, however, seem not to be purposeful, governmental planted cynics.
When someone like THAT surfaces, one must feel sorry for them because they are so very poorly informed, and one must tell them that there is no longer room for such ignorance, (ignoring evidence) in this endeavor, given the mountains of incidental  details available.

ABDUCTION | Original
But, a true debunker, is one who purposefully attempts to muddy the UFO fountain, such that none may drink.
Some debunkers are those who accept the phenomenon, but color it, from their wearing blinders, perspective.
The lunatic fringe religious, stubbornly hold that alien encounters are not with aliens, but only with demons, and every ‘spirit’ , to them, is strictly a demon, as well, because their one and only reference BOOK, the Bible, does NOT remotely mention aliens, but DOES repeatedly, mention demons.
“The Abduction”
HDLSD.com
These stubbornly inculcated religious people can only consider, what their thumped BOOK does refer to, or lobsters will crawl out of their ears, for the sin, of Original Thought, if they dare accept aliens as space aliens, and not ‘fallen angels’..
But if one realizes that ancients called the skies above, ‘Heaven’, then flesh and blood aliens and not ,’Gods’ are more illuminated as the authors of the Old Testament and of the Greek’s myths.
alien abduction GIF
But debunkers are not the only threat to attaining truths, in this paranormal endeavor.
When, however, alien abductees get too close to finding or reaching truths about aliens and their involvement in our broad history, and in their personal lives, they are universally diverted to and distracted with a new- found keen interest in ghosts, haunting and demonics, a common alien ruse and ploy, which works well, as a distraction and a diversion from alien realizations.
alien GIF
Paradoxically, reptilians and small dark greys, the gangster fringe element of space aliens, relish any chance to imposter as ghosts and poltergeists, since they enter and exit our physical reality from the same astral dimensional portals that ghosts and demons use, and they do especially delight, in muddling the E.T. picture, for any astute researcher.
alien abduction GIF
The rub remains, that rather than a flotilla of UFO aliens enslaving Earth en-mass,
Earth is under abduction
invasion, one person at a time.

THE RESCUE OF STRAY CATS : NUDNIK, IS A NUDNIK

Rescue of Stray Cats

by Paul Schroeder
My  cats who live with me, are only two I have brought inside, of dozens of kittens I have rescued from my backyard and handed over,  to willing others over the years.

Dozens of cats are born on the farm next to me.

The Queens Museum Farm, an historic twenty acre working farm, in New York, has greenhouses, flocks of chickens, a yard of pigs, several cows , two dogs, many cats, noisy guard-dog-like peacocks, a large victory garden llamas, donkeys, horses and a half-dozen sheep.

Cows low moos, aching to be milked, at dawn, singing birds chirp and warble in clouds of wings that fill the trees, and at dusk and dawn, roosters ca-ca-doodle-do within

Its fenced perimeter, less than 100 feet from my backyard.

In the tall grass fields, among goats, sheep and cows grazing, feral feline queens  drop litters of four to six kittens, every seven weeks, and sooner or later show them  my backdoor

which always sports a bowl of water, and a plate of cat-food.

 A frail black kitten who cried on and off all day, abandoned under a nearby woodpile on a rainy day,  was left by his mother and not returned for.

It took my son and me over an hour to  first locate the cries and  then to remove the virtual ton of lumber precariously perched ,  under which his mother had left him.

He had cried plaintively for hours, wet, cold and frightened but hidden too cleverly to  easily reach.

He was so hungry still not weaned, that he bit off the rubber nipples on the small kitten bottles I fed him with, swallowing rubber that made me rush him to the vet .

He was barely four weeks old,  but I held him on my warm chest for him to hear the familiar solace of a heartbeat, and I talked to him, at great lengths; he was one I didn’t succeed, though I tried,  to give away,  but he was instead lovingly cared for, hand raised.

This frail kitten evolved into a Daffy- Duck- difficult- to- live- with-nature, a ‘lid off the Id’, feline nightmare who  grew to monstrous proportions, who bites and scratches at the slightest wrongly perceived provocation.

He was symbolically difficult from the very beginning; it took us almost an hour to  unload that large teetering stack of planking woodpile, behind a neighbor’s shed, to finally locate him in pouring rain.

Though unseen, he’d been heard for hours, well-hidden, to cry and cry and cry..

His mother, well within sight and earshot, patently refused to come to him, to comfort or retrieve him, from where she had carried and hid him, and for a good reason.

Male cats were marauding nearby and she knew that by feline male nature, they’d  slaughter  the kittens, and then wait for her dugs to grow dry of milk, and go back, into heat.

 

Then, they would mate with her, assured that the next litter would be theirs, a sperm war of jungle DNA mentality.,
She had cleverly hidden them all, everywhere,  so that marauding  toms, couldn’t get at them.

I weaned him, doctored  his ailments and assuaged his angst.

I rocked him to sleep, on my chest, accompanied with lullabies, three times a day for years.

Now, in his seventh year  as  a twenty-two pound neutered black tomcat , he has earned his name, Nudnick.

 

Though he grew into a cat of monstrous proportions with an aggressive ilk, he  loudly and  plaintively  insists on being ‘tucked in’,  like a young child, requiring  squeezes with hugs and kisses ,
before he will settle in to sleep!

(Nudnick, is Russian, for an annoying, boring, persisting and irritating pain in the derriere, personality. )

He is  tall and large boned, an enormous pure alpha male with a huge square head who affectionately and jealously loves our family with his head banging,  deeply jealous of my other cat, a doddering senior female, of tiny physical proportions, who hates him.

Squeaky, is the oldest rescue cat I ever found deserted: feeble, senile, on antibiotics,   a twenty-two year old ailing but purring,  shriveled feline,

 tiny,  under five pounds, with glazed over eyes ,

who walks in  lost circles of dementia,

 an elder cat without teeth or claws, unable in any way to fight back, against Nudnick,  a jealous  aggressor.

When Nudnik  sees Squeaky getting required medication with commensurate affection, consumed with  jealousy,-(he has core abandonment issues)-, he  feels compelled to jump onto her to bite her.

You can see his eyes grow large with pain, when he sees that she is being cared for.

Because of  jealousy, Nudnik tortures her and this, in turn infuriates me, which only fuels his jealousy.

She walked into my living room  from my back garden years ago, to claim us, a  stray lost and she rolled around on the floor in grateful pleasure and sat perched in our laps  to thank us.

Now,   she’s a twenty-two year old, frail, striped tabby, who faces an unsettled old age , because an adopted kitten  ballooned  into a vengeful King Kong.

 Since, she like a vocal chord altered cat from a laboratory,  could muster only a high pitched chirp, I had named her, Squeaky.

  I wondered who had lost her  and what quantum of love had been lost.

The vet volunteered to euthanize her,  for she was old and in bad shape,

but I said that we would mend and adopt her, instead.

It seemed a betrayal, for she had shown a poignant gratefulness, a recognition of her rescue.

Nudnik  tackles and torpedoes her mercilessly, whenever she tries to move from

her bed to the litter box, and makes her transit anywhere,  Hellish .

I had  caged him for periods, when we were out and about,  to insure her safety,

 afraid that I’d come home to find her murdered and afraid that, I ‘d find it hard to really forgive love Nudnick..

Her life was wrecked by Nudnik  and to protect her we caged him whenever we went out, in an attempt to protect senile Squeaky from persistent Alpha male assaults.

It was an ungraceful, dreadful old age retirement for her, because of Nudnik, who

 Frustrated,

I have admonished a thousands times, but  he is truly a Nudnik.

Once a nudnik , always a nudnik.

He  exhibits his nudnick nature when he tries to steal a  leather recliner chair from under me,

(“One cat, leads to another” (Ernest Hemingway)

 when I am comfortably perched within its embrace.

He will jump up, get behind me on the chair, and bully me,  physically nudge and push me,  followed up with bites to my arms  to force me out of the chair.

I  shake my head disapprovingly and tell him, ” Forget about it!” , firmly,

When that fails, he leaves the room and  knocks something loudly to the floor in an adjacent room, to get me up to investigate, and when I do, he then runs into my chair.

Should that fail to work, .

he will then leave the room, and cry repeatedly, from a nearby room,  plaintively.

When I am halfway there, he runs in at full tilt, or slowly swaggers in,  a form of cat smugness, jumps up to steal my chair, supplants me,  and stretches out in the warmth imparted by my body.

One can see some logical deviousness in his methods ; he has worked this out in his big headed little mind.

I have never before hand raised a cat, from a tiny kitten, to discover neurotic Nudnik!

He, alone, has given me more trouble than any collection, ensemble of cats , combined, that I have ever  rescued.

His cat rules:

  • Always give generously. A small bird or rodent left on the bed tells them, I care.
  • Climb your way to the top. That’s why the drapes are there.
  • Curiosity never killed anything except maybe a few hours.
  • Find your place in the sun. Especially if it happens to be on that nice pile of warm, clean laundry.
  • If you’re not receiving enough attention, try knocking over several expensive antique lamps.
  • Life is hard, then you nap.
  • Make your mark in the world.
  • Or at least spray in each corner.
  • Never sleep alone when you can sleep on someone’s face.’
  • There’s no denying the splendidness of felines:
  • I recall a graphic in the “New Yorker”, where a well-dressed,  neatly groomed man, stands over a litter box, arms akimbo, to directly  address a cat nearby his feet and
  • the caption read:
  • ” Never, EVER think , outside the box!”