The $525 Billion Defeat
Jews Jaws Eight Up
Shark America Two Down
Number of Earthquakes in the Past Seven Days: 242
Virgil Kret's Cell Phone Number: (530) 276-4923
Expect a Disastrous Earthquake on December 26, 2008
George W. Bush Will Destroy the World
Looking for the Peru-Chile God Event
Today: Tactics of the Smallville Battle: Run a Riff
Today's code is "48th Day, Last Year".
Yesterday I revealed I had received a Secret Message from God; and today that secret has been gnawing at me like a beaver in my belly trying to get out; because I do not keep secrets well.
Usually I prefer to write early in the morning, when my mind is fresh, but I dared not this morning because there that secret sat on my computer looking at me, saying, "Spill the beans! Spill the beans! Spill the beans!"
So what'll I do? So what'll I do? Every word I write seems to be making a beeline toward that secret.
My Old Pal God suggested I run a riff; just start writing; and tell you old some stories, stories about events that took place long before I knew this gnawing secret.
Here goes:
When I was a boy I loved to climb trees; as did all my friends. We were Kitsap Peninsula boys in the Puget Sound area of Washington; so what would you expect with all those beautiful evergreen trees standing all around us; trees that would put intoxicating sap on our hands, the smell of which we would relish until our mothers compelled us to wash up for supper?
There were two great evergreens very close together, so close together they had lived their long lives in each other's arms, and we boys called them "Two Trees"; and when we would reach one of those boyhood points where we had nothing to do, and we would ask one another, "What do you want to do?" and more frequently than not the vote would be, "Let's go climb Two Trees."
Let me see, how old were we? About nine, some older, some younger, and we didn't weigh much so we could climb up to the very tips of Two Trees so that the tips leaned over just a little from our weight, and it was a great thrill to be first in the line of boys climbing Two Trees and to ride the bending tips like two angels atop two Christmas trees, seeing the view of our part of Bremerton below us.
Often I went first, that was my nature; but once in a while we would let the younger brother of one of our gang go first; and we did this at least three times; and why we did it more than once I cannot fathom, because every time, almost to the top of the tree, all us six or seven boys climbing below him, he would need to urinate, and we all would all get peed on.
This same little brother had an ingenius way of discovering who it was who had farted in our tent when no one would admit to it; he would go from butt to butt, sniffing; and he always found me out.
Then and there I swore that some day I would have a tree of my own to climb with no one above me; and the freedom to fart without being sniffed; but I have never attained such riches.
Damn! That secret is still gnawing at me, trying to get out.
I was sitting aft on the deck of the bulk carrier Polarglimt a few hours after we had sailed out of Aden; where the Arabs had come aboard to peddle things; but where we could not go ashore; better for us, probably, we being Nordic seaman in a Muslim town, looking for booze and babes in a land where buying neither was legal, and being as white as albinos living their lives in caves our skin not all that welcome.
On another voyage around the world aboard another ship we had not taken the Suez Canal as we did on that trip; we'd pulled into Durban, South Africa, and were warned by our captain not to mess with the Zulu girls because there was public flogging for that; but warning or no warning we weren't even allowed ashore in Aden due to the trouble we would undoubtedly have gotten ourselves into.
Anyway, one of the Arab peddlers who came aboard had in stealth hidden among his carpets and trinkets some bottles of cheap brandy for sale; and I was suffering from the morning-after curse of that brandy as I sat there at the stern; and I looked over the starboard rail what did I see swimming in the Red Sea next to the Polaraglimt but a huge sea monster with a dark gray back, twenty feet wide and specked with big white dots; and I swore right then and there I would never again buy cheap brandy from an Arab, and I never did.
Damn, that secret is still gnawing at me, trying to get out.
This is a story of something that happened to me, what...about ten thousand years ago.
Having volunteered to be marooned on this Earth some 57,000 years ago to see if I could discover what would cause her death far into the future--just about 60 years from now, in fact--I had lived a series of lives as everything I could, from trees, to flowers, to ants and to bees, to buffaloes and bears; and I was living a life on a kangaroo at the time these events took place--some ten thousand years ago.
I had not yet lived as a human being, but had lived lives of most of the plants and animals over the some 47,000 years since the marooning.
Thinking back, I think perhaps I avoided learning about the humans because I suspected it was they who would eventually murder this Earth; and they were so charming and so beautiful that I was hoping my suspicions were wrong; and so perhaps I purposely kept avoiding becoming one of them so I might not come to know the bad news if in fact there was bad news to be known.
To this day I wish it were the serpent who murdered this Earth, not the human being.
But back to my story about when I was a kangaroo some ten thousand years ago. I was hopping along without a care in the world, when I came upon the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, a little Native Australian girl playing in the dust.
Well, I fell in love with her right then and there; and you might think this love was doomed because I was a kangaroo and she a human being; but I was actually a Space Sailor temporarily being a kangaroo, so I devised a plan of how I might marry this little girl when she grew up.
I learned where the little girl lived; and I learned how many people lived in her village...and I learned...sorry to have been so invasive...I learned one married woman in the village was about to ovulate; and a beautiful plan came to my mind.
The next day when a hunting party came out from that village I did not bound away as usual, but I let the hunters kill me; and in my Sprit Form I followed the hunters back to their village as they carried the dead kangaroo; and I waited...and I waited..and I waited until the moment of conception and entered the woman's womb; and nine months later I was born a human being, and about 13 years later I married the little Native Australian girl.
That was my first human life; that was my first human wife; and there is a side story to this which you might find interesting,
Over the ten centuries that were to follow, throughout my two or three lives as a human being in each century, I saved the souls of all my wives; and today they form my personal bodyguard; and, by the way, they hate those people who torture me...as you shall see...as you shall see.
Well, the Secret seems to have gone to sleep for now; it is not crying to be told.
Meanwhile, the United States of America, unaware of God's furious anger at it, finished the 48th day of its last year.
Shark America Two Down
Number of Earthquakes in the Past Seven Days: 242
Virgil Kret's Cell Phone Number: (530) 276-4923
Expect a Disastrous Earthquake on December 26, 2008
George W. Bush Will Destroy the World
Looking for the Peru-Chile God Event
Today: Tactics of the Smallville Battle: Run a Riff
Today's code is "48th Day, Last Year".
Yesterday I revealed I had received a Secret Message from God; and today that secret has been gnawing at me like a beaver in my belly trying to get out; because I do not keep secrets well.
Usually I prefer to write early in the morning, when my mind is fresh, but I dared not this morning because there that secret sat on my computer looking at me, saying, "Spill the beans! Spill the beans! Spill the beans!"
So what'll I do? So what'll I do? Every word I write seems to be making a beeline toward that secret.
My Old Pal God suggested I run a riff; just start writing; and tell you old some stories, stories about events that took place long before I knew this gnawing secret.
Here goes:
When I was a boy I loved to climb trees; as did all my friends. We were Kitsap Peninsula boys in the Puget Sound area of Washington; so what would you expect with all those beautiful evergreen trees standing all around us; trees that would put intoxicating sap on our hands, the smell of which we would relish until our mothers compelled us to wash up for supper?
There were two great evergreens very close together, so close together they had lived their long lives in each other's arms, and we boys called them "Two Trees"; and when we would reach one of those boyhood points where we had nothing to do, and we would ask one another, "What do you want to do?" and more frequently than not the vote would be, "Let's go climb Two Trees."
Let me see, how old were we? About nine, some older, some younger, and we didn't weigh much so we could climb up to the very tips of Two Trees so that the tips leaned over just a little from our weight, and it was a great thrill to be first in the line of boys climbing Two Trees and to ride the bending tips like two angels atop two Christmas trees, seeing the view of our part of Bremerton below us.
Often I went first, that was my nature; but once in a while we would let the younger brother of one of our gang go first; and we did this at least three times; and why we did it more than once I cannot fathom, because every time, almost to the top of the tree, all us six or seven boys climbing below him, he would need to urinate, and we all would all get peed on.
This same little brother had an ingenius way of discovering who it was who had farted in our tent when no one would admit to it; he would go from butt to butt, sniffing; and he always found me out.
Then and there I swore that some day I would have a tree of my own to climb with no one above me; and the freedom to fart without being sniffed; but I have never attained such riches.
Damn! That secret is still gnawing at me, trying to get out.
I was sitting aft on the deck of the bulk carrier Polarglimt a few hours after we had sailed out of Aden; where the Arabs had come aboard to peddle things; but where we could not go ashore; better for us, probably, we being Nordic seaman in a Muslim town, looking for booze and babes in a land where buying neither was legal, and being as white as albinos living their lives in caves our skin not all that welcome.
On another voyage around the world aboard another ship we had not taken the Suez Canal as we did on that trip; we'd pulled into Durban, South Africa, and were warned by our captain not to mess with the Zulu girls because there was public flogging for that; but warning or no warning we weren't even allowed ashore in Aden due to the trouble we would undoubtedly have gotten ourselves into.
Anyway, one of the Arab peddlers who came aboard had in stealth hidden among his carpets and trinkets some bottles of cheap brandy for sale; and I was suffering from the morning-after curse of that brandy as I sat there at the stern; and I looked over the starboard rail what did I see swimming in the Red Sea next to the Polaraglimt but a huge sea monster with a dark gray back, twenty feet wide and specked with big white dots; and I swore right then and there I would never again buy cheap brandy from an Arab, and I never did.
Damn, that secret is still gnawing at me, trying to get out.
This is a story of something that happened to me, what...about ten thousand years ago.
Having volunteered to be marooned on this Earth some 57,000 years ago to see if I could discover what would cause her death far into the future--just about 60 years from now, in fact--I had lived a series of lives as everything I could, from trees, to flowers, to ants and to bees, to buffaloes and bears; and I was living a life on a kangaroo at the time these events took place--some ten thousand years ago.
I had not yet lived as a human being, but had lived lives of most of the plants and animals over the some 47,000 years since the marooning.
Thinking back, I think perhaps I avoided learning about the humans because I suspected it was they who would eventually murder this Earth; and they were so charming and so beautiful that I was hoping my suspicions were wrong; and so perhaps I purposely kept avoiding becoming one of them so I might not come to know the bad news if in fact there was bad news to be known.
To this day I wish it were the serpent who murdered this Earth, not the human being.
But back to my story about when I was a kangaroo some ten thousand years ago. I was hopping along without a care in the world, when I came upon the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, a little Native Australian girl playing in the dust.
Well, I fell in love with her right then and there; and you might think this love was doomed because I was a kangaroo and she a human being; but I was actually a Space Sailor temporarily being a kangaroo, so I devised a plan of how I might marry this little girl when she grew up.
I learned where the little girl lived; and I learned how many people lived in her village...and I learned...sorry to have been so invasive...I learned one married woman in the village was about to ovulate; and a beautiful plan came to my mind.
The next day when a hunting party came out from that village I did not bound away as usual, but I let the hunters kill me; and in my Sprit Form I followed the hunters back to their village as they carried the dead kangaroo; and I waited...and I waited..and I waited until the moment of conception and entered the woman's womb; and nine months later I was born a human being, and about 13 years later I married the little Native Australian girl.
That was my first human life; that was my first human wife; and there is a side story to this which you might find interesting,
Over the ten centuries that were to follow, throughout my two or three lives as a human being in each century, I saved the souls of all my wives; and today they form my personal bodyguard; and, by the way, they hate those people who torture me...as you shall see...as you shall see.
Well, the Secret seems to have gone to sleep for now; it is not crying to be told.
Meanwhile, the United States of America, unaware of God's furious anger at it, finished the 48th day of its last year.
posted by Virgil Kret at 6:52 PM
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