Sunday, August 22, 2010

The Shadow President and the Shadow Government

The motorcade pulls up in a choreographed procession that I'm now quite familiar with. Black mirror polished paint reflects the August Arizona sunshine. The existence of a shadow government that operates in its own global framework has been established thoroughly and as I watch the vehicles doors open and bodyguards emerge I wonder just how many people are aware of this shadow government.

So many secrets. Extraterrestrial life, immortality, reincarnation, the cures to all diseases of body and mind - all carefully compartmentalized away from those who most have need of this knowledge. One of the armored Yukons is surrounded by agents who then open the doors carefully and methodically. The Shadow President emerges. He walks towards me and smiles.

"It's been awhile. You look well. You lost some weight?"

"About 15 pounds. Active duty required I return to my stand-by low carb diet. Thanks for noticing. You look trim yourself."

"Yes, I've lost 25 pounds in the past year. I'm not getting any younger and this job hasn't gotten any easier."

He doesn't look that much older, but his stride and voice betray a mental weariness that is noticeable.

"I see Shamballa has been busy. This facility is much larger than it was two years ago."

"Yes, 50,000 square feet - an entire new wing - was built and helps to facilitate the increased burden over the past two years. Would you like a tour?"

"No, no...that's fine. I just wanted to be briefed on the latest developments regarding our 'neighbors'."

He turns to 4 agents who followed him inside. "If you guys would stay here, I'll be back in a short while."

The agents obey without hesitation. Unlike active Secret Service agents these guards do not have the ultimate responsibility for the Shadow President's safety and do not protest.

We walk down the antiseptically clean corridor and I open the biometric scanner with a key card. After facial and vocal recognition the elevator becomes operational and the door slides open so silently it barely whispers.

"Sub-level 10"

The elevator responds to the verbal command and we are descending rapidly into the fortified belly of Shamballa.

We emerge in a level that is filled with electromagnetic radiation proof rooms and has field generators that distort and scramble all types of visual or audio recording or transmitting devices. My key card opens up one of these conference rooms with a quick swipe and we both walk inside.

"Is Earth safe?" The President asks in earnest.

"Safe enough for now. Earth is still being overshadowed and there is no field protection. Several new worlds have taken the Earth under their wing since the invasion attempt and there is much stricter control of the space outside low Earth orbit and throughout our entire solar system. Jupiter has more tracking stations and a drone sensing base on Saturn's moon Titan is operational as well."

"What about those extraterrestrials here on Earth and what is the status of Project MIMIR?"

"There are about 1000 extraterrestrials on Earth at this time. Most come from just 3 different worlds but about a dozen or so all hail from other unique worlds - all are worlds of the Confederation."

"Any progress against the overshadowers and the field generators? You had mentioned the last time we spoke that you were hoping to erect a permanent shield from the overshadowing signals broadcast to Earth."

"That's been a problem. The Confederation will not contribute to this effort and basically are forcing us to build our own shield - if we can. Naturally, this is not something that even 2000 of the brightest graduates of MIT are going to be able to do overnight - or even within years. The timetable is now in the "decades" framework and we are hoping to have something on a small scale testable by 2023 or thereabouts."

"That's garbage. Can't it be done any faster? Money is no object you know."

"Money is not the problem. We are entering a scientific venue simply not taught in our best schools. Field science of this complexity goes way beyond vectors and Gauss and all the rest, we are talking about mapping out the human brain's magnetic field on almost every detectable level. Every signal that emerges from a brain in thought is converted into electrical energy and field action. Shielding the brain from signal interference and yet not creating interference at the same time, while trying to shield it, has been a major stumbling block."

"I see. What about your girlfriend...what's her name?"

"Yal-hune?"

"Yes...that's the one. Can't she help you design a shield?"

"No, she is of the mindset that humanity must do this on their own or they will always be dependant upon some other world and will never develop human intelligence beyond a certain point - causing stagnation. I agree with her. We have to do this ourselves. We have to be able to protect ourselves or we will always be at the mercy of more advanced worlds - and that, as you know, is not a good thing."

"I understand. How many humans are off-world right now?"

"I'm not absolutely certain...maybe 5"

Yal-hune materializes in a one-piece white bodysuit, startling us both.

"Good afternoon Mr. President."

"You must be Yal-hune. You shocked me there for a second. Do you pop in and out like this all the time?"


"Only when it is more convenient. Here I can meet with you and not be recorded or seen. It was as good a time as any for a meeting. I thought I would make clear for you the Confederation's position on Earth. We will not be assisting in any technological endeavor of any kind and will not be providing, materials, research, tools or anything that might be construed as interference in your planet's natural development."

"I see. But you will still protect the Earth from the most overt hostile acts against it?"

"Yes. We have at our core interest the independent development of humanity as it matures and can stand its own ground in the galactic neighborhood. If this takes hundreds of years or thousands of years, it makes little difference to us. Your growth and development is your affair."

"Understood."

I watch as he interfaces with Yal-hune. It's hard for anyone to concentrate on other things when Yal-hune is around. Her presence of mind is a powerful force that molds human consciousness around it. Like children around an adult, we take our cues from the most mature among us.

Yal-hune speaks to me in my mind,

"See you later."

Yal-hune disappears and I am left with that sudden sense of loss. I can tell the President feels it too. Yal-hune is a hard act to beat and once one has felt her presence, it is not quickly forgotten.

"She is quite a....being, isn't she?"

"Yes, she is possibly the most advanced being on this world at this time and her fundamental frequency is the highest."

"I'm going to have to visit here more often. A fellow could get used to that!"

"I know....I still can't get over her presence."

"Anything else you need to share?"

"Well, there's something I want to ask you...when do you think we will get the economy back under our control?"

"Hopefully soon. The forces against America and the west are at an all-time high and there are more traitors in positions of power than I would care to count. As a result, our maneuvers are often undone or blocked and these foreign interests are doing their best to destroy all efforts at recovery. It's also slowed because we are dealing with these threats...peacefully. I better go...down here I'm not able to be reached if needed."

We get up and exit the conference room and head back over to the elevator.

"Oh, Tech1, I wanted to invite you and Yal-hune to a formal dinner we are having with some of the world's key corporate CEOs."

"At your place?"

"It will be at the Western White House on Saturday August 28th at 8:00 PM. It's a black tie affair."

"I'm sure we'll be able to attend, thank you. Any particular reason you are inviting me?"

"An ulterior motive? Perhaps. The place will be filled with those upon whose shoulders the burden of the financial sector sets."

"I see."

We emerge from the elevator and his agents escort him to his vehicle. As he enters he calls out across the tarmac:

"Then again perhaps I just want to see Yal-hune in a formal gown."


I laugh aloud. I know all too well the after-effects of being around Yal-hune.

The human male is doomed.

Friday, August 13, 2010

The Long Awaited Stupendous Film ( aka The Incredibles Sequel )

Here’s a sneak peak at STUPENDOUS 2 (aka The Incredibles Sequel ;-)




PAN DOWN: Overview suburbia (circa 1960) lots of homes with perfectly maintained yards, rose bushes and mid-century cues. We see Mr. & Mrs. Stupendous holding hands and looking at their home and children. Mrs. Stupendous has her toddler's hand as well.

Mr. Stupendous looks at his wife, Stretchgirl with the hint of a smile. They look at their new home, a split-level with Eckbo landscaping in baby blue with soft pink trim, and know that they are finally home. Their children, ForceGirl and Kid Speedy are teasing each the other as they walk up the front walk. They are carrying grocery bags and have returned from a trip to the market. The bags says "Rocket-Market Our prices are so low they're outta this world!"

FORCEGIRL: “I saw your girlfriend the other day…”

KID SPEEDY: “She is NOT my girlfriend!”

FORCEGIRL: “She follows you around school all day and tells everyone she is your girlfriend. And you hang out with her. That makes her your GIRL FRIEND.”

KID SPEEDY: “She is NOT my girlfriend!”

FORCEGIRL: “Whatever. I’ve seen the lovey-dovey notes you’ve written her.”

KID SPEEDY: (indignant) “What…you READ my PRIVATE notes!”

FORCEGIRL: “Being invisible has certain advantages…”

KID SPEEDY: “MOM!”

Stretchgirl walks on over to where her kids are and is in ‘mom mode’. She is holding the hand of her youngest - now a toddler. She simply has to glare at them both and they stop talking and look at her.

STRETCHGIRL: “Aren’t you two ashamed of yourselves? You squabble like a bunch of …a bunch of…”

FORCEGIRL: “adults?”

STRETCHGIRL: “I was thinking more of five year olds. But you two got along better when you were 5.”

KID SPEEDY: “It’s HER fault, she broke the rules and used her powers to SPY on me!”

FORCEGIRL: “You are such a crybaby tattletale!”

STRETCHGIRL: “Is this true? Did you break our covenant?”

FORCEGIRL: “I peeked over his shoulder as he was writing a letter…”

A car pulls up, that looks something like a cross between a Lincoln and a Cadillac convertible, very low with front fenders and fins that resemble a 1957 Dodge. The family stops what they are doing and look over at the car that has pulled in front of their home. Out pops Cold Man in civilian threads.

COLD MAN: “How do you like my NEW CAR is she a BEAUTY or what!”

STRETCHGIRL: (to her children) “We’ll continue this discussion later.”

MR. STUPENDOUS: “It’s beautiful. That’s a sweet ride!”

COLD MAN: “Ever since the government WARMED up to me again…I thought it was time for a new ride. I call it the COOL-MOBILE!”

KID SPEEDY: “Awesome! Can we go for a ride!”

COLD MAN: “Sure - if it’s all right with your folks?”

MR. STUPENDOUS: “I think we all want to take a spin. It looks like you got space for everyone.”

COLD MAN: “I do now that you’ve lost those extra pounds…”

MR. STUPENDOUS: “Ooh that was COLD!”

COLD MAN: “Don’t I know it!”

Stretchgirl laughs and Cold Man presses his tie clip (which is really a remote controller for the vehicle) and the two long doors pop open and the top goes down. The kids pile in the back and acres of chrome adorn the dash and are dotted liberally through the interior. A classic-style red telephone handset fits into the dash and one sees that there are little placards which identify certain special controls. Cold Man starts the engine by pushing a button and two small flames emerge from chrome outlets near the back of the car and the engine has a throaty roar as Cold Man accelerates away from the curb.

The wind blows through ForceGirl’s jet black hair.

FORCEGIRL: “Wheeeee!”

MR. STUPENDOUS: “So how much did this baby set you back?”

COLD MAN: “Enough. But that was cheap next to what it cost to have MARRIS customize it.”

MR. STUPENDOUS: “ MARRIS is back and customizing vehicles? I thought he retired for good over a decade ago?”

COLD MAN: “His services are in demand again. Lots of folks with…er…special needs…want a MARRIS custom. Check this out.”

Cold Man depresses a button and pulls a T-lever. A police band radio appears from behind the normal radio. The voices of a police dispatcher can be heard.

DISPATCHER: “We have a 211S on 235 Grand near main all units please respond Code 2”

KID SPEEDY: “Wow! A silent alarm and…”

FORCEGIRL: “Officers urged to approach without lights or siren.”

MR. STUPENDOUS: “When did you kids learn police codes?”

FORCEGIRL: “Just a hobby…”

KID SPEEDY: “Yeah…it’s better than - blech! - talk radio.”




That’s my beginning to a new Stupendous flick (aka INCREDIBLES 2) My Japanese syndicate and their team of lawyers say I shouldn’t post any more before signing a contract. So if Brad Bird or Pixar get on the horn, and we ink a deal, the world can have a STUPENDOUS 2, sooner than later. There is so much more to tell, not just about superheroes, but about mid-century families. It's a cakewalk to write a script like that - it practically writes itself. ;-)


Note: Archival RR

Sunday, August 01, 2010

Ezra Klein, JournOlist, Cabalists, Andrew Sullivan and Total Stupidity

Ezra Klein was born during the close of Reagan's first term in office and grew up in liberal California in Irvine, a "planned community" created by the Irvine Company, where ordinances against leaving your garage door open more than an hour a day will get you cited and your control-freak neighbors will report you for disturbing the sanctity of their little communtopia. Irvine has always drawn those who are threatened by individuality and who want to live in a cookie cutter socialist environment.

So it is not surprising that Irvine was the stomping ground for little Ezra Klein, creator of JournOlist - an exclusive leftist club for "journalists" to compare notes and make sure the talking points were straight and the media message uniform. It explains a whole lot. Anyone who would have to spend even a year living in Irvine would go bonkers, one can only imagine the damage such forced conformity does to a child - and in this case, the entire nation gets to see the results. Irvine, the UC system "education" and all the rest, create cookie-cutter minds the same way the Irvine Company created cookie-cutter houses. A whole city that looks like one apartment complex and inside are minds twisted into conformity-craving control freaks whose goal in life is to get others to think like them.

That Ezra Klein thought a Google group was a good way of communicating, shows how uninformed he is. ALL Google Groups are monitored and recorded by the government. Google has no qualms about letting the government eavesdrop on its servers. Google is, for all intents and purposes nowadays, a government contractor that spies on all those who use their services. So all these juicy little insights on the leftist Journolists behavior, conspiracies and such have been recorded for posterity and will only succeed in destroying various journalists and their media institutions credibility. For the Washington Post, Time magazine and The Guardian - their credibility was already worthless and their rags are better suited to be used as toilet paper for the toilet-paper free parts of the 3rd world.

Andrew Sullivan lambasted JournOlist and Ezra a few days ago and the left responded with salvos of their own in defense of JournOlist and the messages recorded in cyber-space. Andrew Sullivan's take is the correct one, however and much more will be revealed as we move towards the elections. Like Nixon's tapes, Ezra's JournOlist will serve as entertaining and revealing fodder not merely for months, but for years to come. Ezra probably was taught all about how bad Nixon was in the UC school system in his political science classes, unfortunately for him he didn't learn the most obvious lesson - don't record your conspiracies and make a noose of your own words for your political enemies to use against you.

Google groups? He might as well have just posted it on the Democratic Underground or Daily KOS - JournOlist's moral compatriots. Secure digital transmission on the web doesn't exist. Even here, the most advanced Fortezza encrypted data systems are able to be compromised.

What we are seeing here is an imploding of the leftist apparatus. Ezra Klein from the Washington Post has lost all credibility, Joe Klein, Spencer Ackerman and all the rest that have so far been revealed. I am still dumbfounded by these folks ignorance. Ezra is 26 and sort of can be excused for his stupidity, but all the rest? What we see here is the power of the culture of conformity. "A secret cabal of leftist journalists where we can plot against those evil right-wing bastards, make sure Obama is elected and twist the national dialogue to suit our agenda? Heck, I'm there!"

And now like the Nixon tapes, the agency is sifting through the transcripts to find just how much people like Obama's (now gone) budget director Peter Orszag and others in the administration (not yet identified) were involved in trying to control the media's message.

The funniest part of all this is that there are more cabals like JournOlist that are using online meeting grounds even as I write this and somehow think their words and messages are private. Apparently, none of them read Dana Priest's article on the big bad intelligence sector.

Maxine Waters, Charlie Rangel, Obama and SB1070, JournOlist - it's like a perfect storm destroying the Democratic party from within. The GOP and Tea Party can sit back and watch as these folks lack of morals, absolute self-interest and sky-high corruption is revealed to all the world. In 90 days, the nation will get their say on all this corruption and the leftist agenda. The Democratic party is scheduled for devastation the likes it has never seen.

And just wait...the best news is yet to come.

;-)