Friday, May 27, 2011

Black Balloon by Goo Goo Dolls & Washington Laser Research

One song played and I skipped over it, then this one hit and almost made me cry but even at the start, before I heard the words, "Black Balloon".

I had several images but don't think I will be sharing as much pretty soon. I'm being exploited.

I need to get out and find a good place, where I am treated like a human being.

I went to the library when it was open, and walked through a different section and turned to look. It was a section about metal working, wood working, sculpture, and watches.

I walked past it and then saw a book standing out as I passed, of poetry. Grabbed it and opened randomly to a poem that was more modern and I didn't really love it so I opened to a different section and it was one I liked. I opened to "The Russian God" by Prince P.A. Vyazemsky (1792-1878). I just liked it for how frank it is. Honest. Didn't even read it slowly or in full. I guess I barely skimmed it like a water-skeeter and I still felt it gliding under my feet. Not saying I agree, but I like the style and I have always thought the Russian literature was complex and interesting psychologically. Ever since I read Crime and Punishment and Chekov. And this one is a people poem too.

My images, I tried to think of Gannon, my parents first baby and what happened but I was so tired after staying awake all night, I kept falling asleep while trying to pray. I am not focused nor do I feel very "holy" after last night, either. I think God understands, because He knows my son and I are tortured, but still, it felt bleak and surreal.

I didn't have any concrete images. Yesterday in chapel I asked and asked to turn to something and I opened to Jesus born in Bethlehem and being wrapped in swaddling clothes. On the other page was Zechariah's Song.

Before this, I asked God to give me strength as this movie about a woman not being able to have kids and then having them and a football team began. I randomly turned to, "My Lord said unto my lord, sit at my right hand until I put your enemies under your feet." This time, I read it from the New Testament and that's what I had turned to.

It was after this that I asked about my older brother who was born to die, and I turned randomly to the story of Jesus Born In A Manger.

Then today I saw glass over my head, like I was in an incubator but I don't really think he was in an incubator. I don't know. I also saw hands on glass, like looking in to see him. And I saw a teapot boiling with steam. I didn't know if the teapot was one that my parents put on at the house to try to help him breathe, or if it was something from present time that slipped in--I think it was white or cream colored. The spout was tapered from wider at the base and then slightly tapered to more narrow.

I saw Prince William in the middle of it, while trying to think of only Gannon. I wasn't trying to think of him and maybe it wasn't him. That's who I thought it was and maybe someone was just looking at a photo of him. White long sleeved shirt with maybe a light stripe or very light small pattern on it, something almost not there, rolled up sleeves, bent elbows, hands clasped together and leaning on arms bending forward. I don't think I've seen him in patterned oxford style shirts. But it had maybe a very thin and light stripe running through it. Maybe it was someone else but it popped into my mind and I thought it as him. I also saw Harry for a split second, first, at the beginning, not wanting or trying to. Arms on a ledge or fence with head just over the top. No, I'm not obsessed and I wasn't trying to get these impressions either, I think it was mental noise. After randomly seeing this shirt on William, I thought what is Harry wearing and saw pink or red but I'm sure it's imagination. I later, after trying to see Gannon, thought I saw one of the Russian guys from the Baptist church in Wenatchee in a pale pink shirt. Long sleeved and I don't think they have one.

I wasn't thinking about anything Russian today but then I talked briefly with a Ukrainian this morning and for a minute the others came to mind. And then I opened up to this poem, but that's it. It's a translation by Alan Mayers. It's from the book, "World Poetry: An Anthology of verse from antiquity to our time." It is maroon-wine-rose colored with a large 3/4 cream circle edged in gold with a gold plume and black lettering.

I've been thinking about asymmetry. I sent out for my passport and how mindless of me, I photocopied my voter's registration but forgot to sign it. Ooops. So the next day I signed it and added a Tiffany lamp stamp and an Autocar racing (thinking of my son) stamp. I kept looking at the Tiffany lamp stamp because it's a 3/4 shot of the lamp and asymmetrical. I used to make paintings like that, off-center, and people used to say about my paintings, "why is it tipping to the side?" or, about my photos, "You cut the top of the head off." I don't know, sometimes it works as a frame for balance with the negative space. You stop seeing it as an object that must be whole and as more of a design incorporating use of the positive and negative space. It ceases to be it's own expected object and part of a different whole.

I guess I just wanted to pick up this book and break from my expected flow of what I might write for a little bit.

Maybe I'll just skip around. I just turned now, at random, to a section from Octavio's Paz's "Sunstone":

"setting out from my forehead, I search,
I search without finding, search through a moment,
a face of storm and lightning-flashes
racing through the trees of night,
a face of rain in a darkened garden,
relentless water that flows by my side."

Po Chu-i (772-846)
Song of Everlasting Sorrow
"The Emperor prized beauty, and longed for a woman to topple a kingdom,
Through a reign of many years he searched without obtaining her.
There was a girl of the Yang family, just about grown,
Who had been reared in the inner chambers--no one knew of her yet,
She had beauty and cahrms granted by Heaven, difficult to conceal,
And so one day was chosen to be the concubine of her sovereign.
A glace exchanged, a single smile; she showed a hundred charms,
The painted beauties of his Six Palaces seemed to have no allure,
In the cold of early spring she bathed in the Flower-Clear Pool,
The warm spring's water polished her skin translucent white and glossy
smooth."

(I am just turning at random to different poems I don't even know, and I put down the beginning of this one that I turned to and then read ahead to the very end, which I'll add)

..."About to part, she charged him further to take these words,
In these words was meaning only their two hearts knew:
'On the seventh day of the seventh month, in the Palace of Long Life,
At midnight, with no one else there, we exchanged a secret vow:
That in the heavens we wished to fly, two birds with joined wings,
And on the earth we wished to grow, two trees with branches entwined."
Heaven endures, earth's span is long, but sometime both will end--
This sorrow everlasting will go on forever."

I like this for sounding like a fairytale. Sometime I'll have to read it through and listen to what it says. It's very romantic and concise in how beautiful it is. It's translated by Dore J. Levy.

(I don't know why, but I sensed such good energy when I wrote this one down. It's 10:11 a.m. Maybe it was just the time of day for some reason? I don't know, just a good rush of right feeling. I'm not going to read the whole thing right now but skip on and go back to it later. I know I have to go back to it though.)

Spesse Fiate Vegnonmi A La Mente

"Comes often to my memory
the darkness Love has fixed in me
so that I cry; self-pityingly,
"What other man has lived this through?"

For Love attacks me suddenly,
life's energies abandon me,
one spirit only lives and moves
within, because it speaks of you.

Then I, to save myself, must force
my steps: a pallid, empty thing
I come to you to be made whole,

but when I raise my eyes to yours
my heart is seized with shuddering
that from the bloodstream drives my soul."

"The Capitol" by Innokenty Annensky (1856-1909)
"It's winter. The city sleeps in its yellow mist.
Yellow snow rots on the pavements and bare ground.
I don't know where you are or where we are,
I just know we're together and can't be torn apart.

Were we invented by our leader's unshakable power?
Did the world forget to attack us until we sank?
We don't have any myths to look back on,
just stones and terrible facts.

things the magician gave us--
lies and a polluted river, the warm color of the faun,
and our own deserts, those numb squares
where citizens were hanged before dawn.

And whateve rwe had where we lived,
what launched our eagle, what chained
the giant who wore black laurels to the rock there--
all that will be happiness to our children.

He was so courageous, almost like a god!
His own violent horse of the unreal threw him.
Our dictator couldn't trample the snake of greed
so we worship it as the one God.

That's why we huddle together and caall it love,
Our only peace is our children, we believe,
as we bend over their toys with them and feel safe
and hear the riderless beast of the state paw the roof."
(translated by Stephen Berg)

"Adam's Task" by John Hollander (b. 1929)
(And Adam gave names to all the cattle, and to the fowl of the air, and to every beast of the field...Genesis 2:20)

Thou, paw-paw-paw; thou, glurd; thou, spotted
Glurd; thou, whitestap, lurching through
The high-grown brush; thou, pliant-footed,
Implex; thou, awagabu.

Every burrower; each flier
came for the name he had to give:
Gay, first work, ever to be prior;
Not yet sunk to primitive.

Thou, verdle; thou, McFleery's pomma;
Thou; thou; thou--three types of grawl;
Thou, flisket; thou, kabasch; thou, comma-
Eared mashawk; thou, all; thou, all.

Were, in a fire of becoming,
Laboring to be burned away,
Then work, half-measuring, half-humming,
Would be as serious as play.

Thou, pambler; thou, rivarn; thou, greater
Wherret, and thou, lesser one;
Thou, sproal; thou, zant; thou, lily-eater.
Naming's over. Day is done."

Holy Sonnets: At the Round Earth's Imagined Corners Blow
by John Donne (1572-1631)
"At the round earth's imagined corners blow
Your trumpets, angels, and arise, arise
From death, you numberless infinities
Of souls, and to your scattered bodies go:
All whom the flood did, and fire whall o'erthrow,
All whom war, dearth, age, agues, tyrannies,
Despair, law, chance hath slain, and you whose eyes
Shall behold God, and never taste death's woe.
But let them sleep, Lord, and me mourn a space,
For if above all these my sins abound,
"tis late to ask abundance of thy grace
When we are there. Here on this lowly ground
Teach me how to repent: for that's as good
As if thou hadst sealed my pardon with thy blood."

"The Red Cockatoo" (Po Chu-i)
(I'm turning at random back and forth through this book, just typing out whatever I fall on and ended back at Po Chu-i)

"Sent as a present from Annam--
A red cockatoo.
Coloured like the peach-tree blossom,
Speaking with the speech of men.

And they did to it what is always done
To the learned and eloquent.
They took a cage with stout bars
And shut it up inside."

(translation by Arthur Waley)

"May He Lose His Way On The Cold Sea" by Archilochus (c.650 B.C.)
"May he lose his way on the cold sea
And swim to the heathen Salmydessos,
May the ungodly Thracians with their hair
Done up in a fright on the top of their heads
Grab him, that he know what it is to be alone
Without friend or family. May he eat slave's bread
And suffer the plague and freeze naked,
Laced about with the nasty trash of the sea.
May his teeth knock the top on the bottom
As he lies on his face, spitting brine,
At the edge of the cold sea, like a dog.
And all this it would be a privilege to watch,
Giving me great satisfaction as it would,
For he took back the word he gave in honor,
Over the salt and table at a friendly meal."

"Remembering Leopardi's Moon" by Giacomo Leopardi (1798-1837)

AVersion.
Moon, the year is over.
I scaled this hill a year ago to see you.
My heart was rapid and cold, you
floated over the maples, over there
the same pasty communion wafer you are now,
you made each leaf visible,
you made the road leaving this fortress flow like an eerie snake.
But I could barely see. I stood there, crying.
IN a dream, on one of those nights
when I know I'll die, the whole world
looked crippled, poor, free, everyone stood outside
pointing at you, whispering.
Moon, if I love anyone, it is you..."

"Stratis The Sailor By The Dead Sea" by George Seferis (1900-1971)

(I found it at "Jerusalem, ungoverned city." by I like the lyricism or poignancy of the preface too... which is: Sometimes you see, in chapels bilt upon the legendary spots, the relevant passage from the Gospel, in English, and underneath the words: THIS IS THE PLACE GENTLEMEN.--Letter of S.S. from Jerusalem, 22nd July, 1942)

..."Jerusalem, ungoverned city.
Down to the river Jordan
Came three holy monks,
And tied up to the bank there
A small red sailing ship.
Three from the Holy Mountain,
Sailing for three months,
Came to the bank of Jordan
and tied on to a branch
Their votive offering,
A gift of the refugee.
Three months without food,
Three months without drink,
Three months without sleep,
And they came from the Holy Mountain,
They came from Thessaloniki,
The three slave monks.
All of us are like the Dead Sea
Many fathoms below the level of the Aegean.
Come with me. I shall show you what the place is like."

(I turned back and landed back on Leopardi's Moon so I'll write out some of the last stanza's of this)

"Nothing exists, not even this voice of mine,
these simple words. Illusions are gone:
desire, hope, these two
that made waking possible, dawn after dawn.
They used to make me tremble,
but nothing has value, earth does not care,
life is the narrowness of this poem,
the grind of composition, and what I write--
truculent, useless (though it begs to live)--
is dust even before it reaches your ears.
Sleep. God back to the chaos of beginnings. Stay there.
No moon above those cool, featureless trees: black
emptiness, which is time, which is--
if we can bear it--all the world is.
The mute path of the stars is crazed, magnificaent.
The breeze just now freshens my heavy face.
Nature, sickness, people struggling to love--
what do they mean? Time is the breath of gods,
the air of cities and rich fields,
it gorges each thought, cell, blood and bone,
it is the gods, it is our conscieousness,
it means we now
are,
we are,
you, I,
(oh why isn't a hand rubbing my twisted spine?)
are,
each word next to a word stone."

(I told God, this next section I turn to will be the last I copy for now)

I turned to

Ruhi (1548-1605)
"Curse The Thorns Of Fate"
"Curse the thorns of fate, and damn as well its roses
and its garden
Curse my rivals in love, and damn as well the beloved
who brings me pain...

When the intelligent fall upon evil ways, and
the ignorant become powerful
Curse the good luck of this world, and damn
its bad luck too..."

I should do this now and then and refresh my memory of good verse and work on my typing speed. For all my writing, I should be FAAAAaaaster! Maybe I'll set one really cool goal that NO ONE can interfere with! Aha! I shall increase my typing speed from 60 words a minute to 80 words a minute! At last. Purpose, safeguarded from theives.

"Criminey Spoticus! Blast the arte wherein ye slayed me
matie."

(ahem, the above line by me! in this minute that is 11:13 or was 11:12 a.m.)

What do you think? "wherein" or "whereby"?

Now I'm sort of laughing because I thought, "What's a Spoticus?" I liked how it rang, whatever it is, just as a phrase. And then I found some link to how there is a book by this title, about a boy and army that "overthrew the worst prime minister in english history". I have no meaning for it about the current or last one though. Then there's a "sporticus" who is Lazytown's average-hero. Hmm, and bengal tigers called spoticus. Anyway, just thought it rang right.

Crimminy Spoticus! Blast th'arte--y'slayed me!" (swoon with hand to brow or heart)
************************
Oh, other small impressions...I had about my older brother that died before me, at 3 days old.

I saw him in a yellow, pale yellow jumper. Like a sleeper with footies jammies thing.

There was no autopsy, so they said, that's what my parents have said but I had some impression of someone measuring him at different parts later.

I also think there was something suspicious about his death and not involving my parents at all.

I think something very bad happened and it was deliberate. I do not believe that he was born with an inherited defect and no immune system. This was a lie and an excuse for something else.

I saw what happened to my skin under my nails and my lips after I was lasered and I also saw my son when he showed me what had happened to some of his extremities, after being a target of laser.

I wasn't put in a ceramic bathtub to sleep in (with cushioning & blankets) because it was the only place to put me but because it was hoped to block something out and keep me away from windows or something when I was little.

It was 1973, 1 year after their trip to Munich for the 1972 Olympics and someone did something to their first baby on purpose. There were lasers at that time and other technologies.

My mom and dad were very healthy and young, and it was never explained to them exactly what happened. There was no investigation or anything, which is odd for a death like that. He was in the care of Children's Hospital in Seattle, WA and this is an area where all kinds of horrible things have happened to my family.

Fucking Navy. See my 3rd enclosed link about Naval laser research projects back in 1972 that were classified. They go back to even the 1960s. They did secretive research on even the effects of lasers on ceramic materials then, and whether the bathtub was porcelain or ceramic, I'm sure it was the safest place they could have put me.

My family has been a set of generational guinea pigs and blackmailed to allow others in the U.S. to use us at will.

All the way through the line.

Someone in the U.S. government killed my parent's first baby. And then they covered it up by claiming he didn't have a good immune system which made no sense whatsoever and was suspicious enough to my parents even then, that they placed me in a ceramic/porcelain tub to protect me while I was small. Somehow they knew and they knew they could never talk about it too.

How ironic that at the same time that there were top secret studies being done on the effect of lasers on ceramic and other such materials, I was being laid like a baby Moses into a bathtub to try to prevent the same thing from happening to me that happened to Gannon.

I asked them if there was anything unusual at his birth and the answer is roundly "No." He was fully checked out and had zero problems and went home from the hospital fine. So this healthy baby from healthy, young parents just all of a sudden, ooops, doesn't have an immune system and turns blue? Turning blue has nothing to do with whether someone has immunity to things or not.

He did not have any kind of genetically inherited problem. If he did, they would have done an autopsy to find out if there were genetic markers or something to avoid next time around.

Children's covered up for U.S. and Washington State military quackery and experimentation on infants.

I am checking and yes, Washington State was leading in research for lasers back in the 60s and 70s. I'm going to include links that show what Washington State has been up to, recently and also all the way back in the 60s and 70s. A lot of the laser research was in conjunction and cooperation with Boeing, which is located in Seattle and there is military all over the place there. The highest ranking military officers have vacation houses and retirement digs in Leavenworth, a small forested town just a few miles away from where my parents had their first house with their first baby.

Brazil and the U.S. were working together in the 70s, on laser research. All of the laser research at this early date, was being done in California and Washington State. Washington State was prime because of the proximity to Hanford scientists and materials, and the Universities in WA. Pakistan was a major player all the way back in the 70s. They know what the U.S. has done to me and my son and problably have some documentation or idea what happened to my parent's first baby too. They were stealing nuclear materials and ideas all the way back then. Khan did it.

Yep. Directed energy weapons research and laser research was huge in the 7os and top secret. It's now declassified. It was most likely first starting in the 60s and then experimentation on humans probably took place in the late 60s and early 70s.

Babies can't complain you see.

You fuckers.

Babies and children can be watched for their responses and whether they die or can handle it or not, but they sure can't "talk about it" and start causing people to wonder what the hell is going on. They just cry and people pass it off as "gas" and then "immunity problems" when the kid dies.

I knew it was BS but I didn't know why and what the BS was covering for. I know now.

They lasered the life out of a baby. And I'm sure my parent's baby wasn't the first one.

I would bet, and my parents will never tell me, but I probably wasn't just put in a porcelain or ceramic tub, but had something that put over the top most of the way too.

There was a "Seattle Biomedical Center" that has been doing biomedical research for 33 years. Before this there was another facility and not once, if this was some kind of rare immune resistance problem, did they ever do research or bring it up to my parents.

I said to my mother, "So what did they say? because if they told you it was because of an immunity problem, didn't they think it might happen again and warn you?"

She said, "They told us it wouldn't happen again."

How did THEY know it wasn't going to happen again?

Pacific Northwest National Laboratory was one of the first research institutes to open that dealt with nuclear and laser energy and projects. It was founded in 1965. It was the only place chosen to analyse lunar data from the moon with laser technology in 1969. President Nixon visited in 1971.

How ironic. While the U.S. is working on a laser-ranging project (Apache Point) to direct lasers from Earth all the way back to the moon, CPS is lining my case up with military connected workers and discounting the possibility that my son and I were being targeted in East Wenatchee.

See the last link I posted, about laser ranging capabilities and where they are doing the research.

They killed Gannon, the first child. Then they tortured and used me and my brother and went right to my son next. And they have blocked others from investigating.

This has to stop. I want my son returned to me and the BS to quit. It's looking like a UN lawsuit.

No comments: