THE
BLOGS
OF
MOUNTAINPEN
©
2006-2020
MARK
WAYNE
MOHR
ALL
RIGHTS RESERVED ®
ALSO
KNOWN AS (AKA) THE
'BOM'
[{03-10-2020}]
6:40
POST
MERIDIAN
TUESDAY
EVENING
10
MARCH, 2020
FORT
PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA, ESMWG
The continuation of "The Epitome of Harassment"
MORIANITY
FOR MILLENNIUM 3
MOUNTAINPEN'S
LUNAR PHASES CHART:
TUESDAY,
MARCH 10, 2020
CURRENT
PHASE IS:
WANING
GIBBOUS 1:6
N.M.
WXC1 WXC2 WXC3 WXC4 WXC5 WXC6 WXC7 F.Q. WXG1 WXG2 WXG3 WXG4 WXG5
WXG6 F.M. WNG1 WNG2 WNG3 WNG4 WNG5 WNG6
L.Q. WNC1 WNC2 WNC3 WNC4 WNC5 WNC6 WNC7 N.M.
THE
NAME OF THIS BOOK IS:
THE
TORTURE AND SLOW MURDER OF MARK WAYNE MOHR BY TRUMP AND HIS MOB
THE
NUMBER OF THIS CHAPTER IS:
CHAPTER
35
How
Dave Roth and I
had
some bellowing loud ass laughs
back
in the late nineteen-eighties,
and throughout the nineteen-nineties
as well; over those terms of BOTBAR
and also BOTBUR.
It
was about as funny of course as Ziggy's trip and fall at his Central
Pier Jetty in Atlantic City, the Long Island scary staircase where
the family had their GREAT CHASES
in the early nineteen-seventies, and my nearly 34 year interactive
experience of quintessential negative activity with the MILITUFORCE;
all
rapped up into one HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE
fat ass incredible nightmare
on
super ass steroids,
for
crying out mother fucking loud!
But today the tenth of March of 2020, I have other problems. Of
course, don't I always have numerous bundles of shit all over my
plate, folksingers and FOLKS? Oh wonderful Mike Soft, thank you for
your endless reminders of my
endless DOGTOWN.
All
was quiet today until about six of the fuckign clock this evening,
and then the pricks over at the 605
CONSTRUCTION COMPANY,
began their annoying wall hammering, and other noises. Only next door
keeps hammering, and
no other nabe,
so I know that this
dude is part of the same peeps who used to live in there;
and the absolute
proof
is that he
never took off that stupid hippie-dippie peace logo-sign
from
his door, that the peeps before him hat put there,
shortly after moving in somewhere at the start of 2014. Right at six
of the clock (o'clock), came very weird noises for ten minutes, and
then shortly after a quarter fucking past, it was 'HAMMER
CITY' FOR A WHILE.
Then at about 6:20 or so, slamming doors began for a while. It is now
just shy of seven, and all seems quiet again. We shall see what they
do as the
evening wears on,
Harvey
Rabbit,
and James
Stuart,
SIRS!!!!!!
IT
IS ILLEGAL
AND UNFAIR
TO CONTINUE ALLOWING MY LEGAL ACCOUNT, AND MY LEGALLY
PAID FOR
PHOTO-BUCKET
PHOTO,
THAT I USE ON AND FOR MY 'BLOGS
OF MOUNTAINPEN';
TO BE CONSTANTLY SCREWED WITH, AND WRECKED; OH WONDERFUL GREAT
GOOGLE-BLOGGER
CORPORATION,
OF ALL MYSTERIOUS CALIFORNIA
LOCALES, ESPECIALLY
ON 36th
STREET,
BUT NO MATTER WHERE IN COSMOS, AND IN ANY OR ALL DIMENSIONS OF
REALITY, ANY OF THIS MAY TRULY EXIST IN AND ON WITH WHATEVER WILD
INTENTS AND GOALS, MOTIVES OR OBJECTIVES, ALL OF IT TRULY HAS, BEHIND
SOME ENDLESS
UNMOVABLE OZ-CURTAIN!
THIS
IS UNFAIR AND ILLEGAL INTERNET AND BUSINESS PRACTICES;
AND IF I WERE A RICH MAN INSTEAD OF A POVERTY STRICKEN PERSON,
SENATOR SANDERS SIR; AND TO QUOTE YOU, THEN MAYBE I WOULD BE ABLE TO
RECEIVE
AND OR EXPECT SOME JUSTICE.
I REALLY TRULY LOVE YOU, SIR
BERNIE,
AND I WOULD CUT OFF MY RIGHT ARM AND LEFT LEG, TO SEE YOU WIN THE
ELECTION, AND THEN BEAT DIRT BAG DON, AND GET INTO, THE NOT 1903,
NOT 1802, NOT 1701; BUT YESSIR, THAT
1600
PENNSYLVANIA
(NON-STARBURN-HQ PROPERTY OF GREAT MAGICAL BUTTERCHEESES
OR DAUGHTERS)
AVENUE,
IN WASH YOUR HANDS, WASHINGTON, DISTRICT OF COLOMBIA, 13-600! SO A
GREAT BIG HUUUUUUUUGE
WOW!
Doing these kind of
things endlessly to innocent targeted peeps for a mere joke or game,
is beyond unthinkable and detestable. It is beyond unconscionable
and monstrous. It is beyond any of those things times the fifth
power. No words can ever properly say a thing. This is why there is
a 'condition-interaction' in the great
Planck-Time or (PURGATORY), called
DOGTOWN, where we literally are
turned into smelly large things with tails, very sharp teeth,
extremely powerful sensitive noses; and are trapped in an 'area'
that even an odor challenged human, would be able to smell from over
one thousand miles away, so laugh all you want. The great and late
Doctor Billy Graham knew it, and he believed wholeheartedly in it.
Me, I'VE SEEN IT, and I remember it.
So laugh folks, as you will suffer in agony beyond anything your
wildest imagination and fantasy could ever even remotely be able to
take you. As I said world; only my goddamn daughter knows the truth
about our 'conditions', and only she could ever set the record
straight, not MAYO CLINIC or MUFON, or any of the groupations of the
metaverse outside of that reality where a whole lot more than
Parental-Guidance RULES over the cosmos. When I did contact the
great 'HOLD THE' peeps of north Florida, most of you out here
remember what happened to me. I was major bullshitted and never
helped at all, when I was dying and begging for help. But I got
through it Mister Microsoft fucking Corporation, yessir, I managed
did I not, Mister Christopher Transmissions Boss-man, and other
coworker regarding family finances and other related great topics of
discussion on lunch breaks at Moorestown factories in mighty and
ever unforgettable Bicentennial years of days long gone by, yo? Yes
peeps, when monster folks like Sure-Kill Expressway Donnie and his
ever ongoing marvelous life and stories, and all his capitalist-pals
and billy-friends, all keep doing what they do to us poor suffering
povertites as I will call us (those
suffering in endless poverty without any hope of relief), according
to our great LORD AND MASTER JESUS, a powerful DOGTOWN-SENTENCE must
be served, and the story was given about the rich man and his slave
and the rich man ending up in Dogtown. Those same area scriptures in
the great GOSPELS of MMLJ, go onto reflect that when we do things to
others such as help them or hurt them, we are truly doing this to
HIM (OUR LORD)! The powerful truths behind this have to do with what
morianity calls (Zero-Dimensional-technology) and we can discuss
this later on in times of photon-projection (in
the future) to put it more accurately.
HA-HA-HA Jane Sleazeweedsdisease Notfondauonebit mahm, YOU MISSED ME
BY A HAIR, AS I AM NOW ON OPEN OFFICE WORD-DOCK PAGE TWELVE OF
TWELVE, AND NOT ELEVEN OF ELEVEN, YOU DAMN WITCH OF ATLANTA,
GEORGIA.
5555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555
BUTButButButButBUTTTTTTTTTTTT, I AM GOING TO WRITE OUT A NON
ASTRAL-PLANE GROUPATION OF FIVE-NUMERATIONS ANIWHO, YO YO YO YO YO
YO!!!!!!!
Yes
I think that I've quite sufficiently proven how what has been done
to me and around me for 65 years, 3 months, and 6 days now and
counting yo, is nothing other than absolute unquestionable
verification of the truth that I for reasons that are beyond fucking
totally unfathomable, AM THE CENTER OF ALL THAT IS, and not even by
factoring in incredible interaction that I had a very long time ago
in a very beautiful garden across the sea, with Almighty Pink
Goddess, Sarah-Stacey Jehovah Krassle. Now I can get up here and go
on and on with how much I hate snakes and lizards and forget about
Mister Stafford, great seventies rock and roll songs, or spiders,
but yes peeps keeping this very real for the sake of Sir
Bob Schleigh and Mister Dennis Snyder, both Jersey residents
from me' past; but the pernt here, Sir
Archibald Bunkerqueens is simply damn
thisssssssssssssssssss, oh me' lovely
ERICA AMC CANE: I can tell you all how much I detest that
little gecko worm and those damn Geico Insurance ads, from now until
half past fucking eternity, and it won't kill that damn car
insurance advertisement on the television. When I hate something,
the enemies just make sure it is there in my face all the more. Boy
oh boy oh boy oh boy! BUTButButButButBUTTTTTTTTTTTT
world, and great BLACK HAT LATTISAW CLUB HACKERS EVERYWHERE, YO;
if and when I say or do anything that implies or out right says that
I enjoy seeing it, such as the spoon-dancing with lovely BIG-O;
POOF, it goes away faster than spit flies, if I can quote the great
fictional District Attorney on that wonderful “L&O”
TV-SHOW, Sir John James McCoy, (JACK), so WEEEEEEEEEE, and
yes Dennis Snyder oh great sir and guru of No Joysey wisdom's and
proclamations all over the place, IT'S JUST
REALITY! The man is telling it straight up here people,
so don't ever fault this great cool dude, yo!!!!!!!!!! Anything GOOD
goes away at light speed, and anything BAD stays and grows and
festers around me like a boil on a monsters asshole. Pure
unadulterated reality, Mister Snyder. Look at it like this people.
Within a goddamn forty mile radius of the various residences that I
had while living up north and before coming down to Florida, I
became friends with two dudes in my adult life. The three pals of
childhood could be thought of as Brad, Lyle, and Andy, and have been
completely discussed on numerous blogging texts from photon-memory
(THE PAST). Remember peeps, we all live here in the ETERNAL-NOW with
a photon memory seemingly behind us and a photon memory of
interactive menu-choices seemingly ahead of us. Now in adult life, I
had Jim and I had Dave. Out of maybe twenty million peeps within a
forty mile radius, this converts down to
2 in 20,000,000 out of all possible and or potential peeps for me to
have made friends with and or associated with in any meaningful way.
These two peeps JUST HAPPENED to both be in a position of INFORMING
me of family-related stuff and allow me to make this much clearer
for any of me' great and wonderful readers, or me' BLOGAUDIANS out
there, yo. Let us first harp just a wee whittle bit on those odds of
out of twenty million potential peeps in a forty mile radius of me,
two became me' pals or me' somewhat-pals at least, since I could not
really refer to Jim Burr as a true pal when he was anything but, and
even thought abut bashing me' head in with a nearby rock and tossing
me' helpless teenaged body into the damn creek, and that happened,
and that is a quote, so it is not me right now making up anything or
exaggerating one small bit here. YES FOLKS, WITH ODDS OF LITERALLY
ONE IN TEN MILLION, I happened to become associated with Sir James
Burr and Sir David Roth. Don't fucking underplay the number and odds
here of one to ten million. Even the great Power-Ball Lottery odds
are said to be slightly under ONE TO THREE HUNDRED MILLION, just
thirty times greater, and we all know the REALITTY of ever being
winners of these hundreds of millions of dollar amounts of money
through this great lottery, and hey, I ain't saying go ahead and
dream, but please, JUST BE REAL! Now Jim was the one who showed me
the REALITY of MY FAMILY being somehow connected all throughout what
he would term, “my spiritual problems”. And Dave, through his
connections as a 33 DEGREED TOP MASON LODGE member, had access to
powerful guarded charts and information, literally on the HUNTINGTON
FAMILY; as he had been made aware by me that I was the direct
descendant of my 7th great gramps, Samuel Huntington.
Actually it was my Aunt Geraldine Snow
Mason and her marvelous dedicated research back early in
the nineteen-seventies; through exhaustive library research before
the days of public internet and the universe in all of our pockets
times, but she managed in those cave days to learn that her husband,
my Uncle Stuart Huntington Mason, whose same ancestor Sir Samuel
Huntington, was a direct lineage descendant of Mary Stuart, the
Queen of Scotland, and is why my Uncle's parents, my grandparents,
Misses Grace Isabelle Huntington and Mister Leonard John Mason,
named him after HER (the great Scottish QUEEN). But how is this all
relevant to the MUFON, and me' point here? Well, keep listening as I
blow your mother fucking minds from heredahelda and HELLEN BACK,
from the doors of Mizz Helen Wheels (HELL ON WHEELS), HA-HA! So now
we have Mark (ME) and me' two associates-friends, Jim and Dave, and
with odds of 1:10,000,000 for these two out of all the peeps within
a forty mile radius for me to become connected with in any
meaningful damn way. Now for the UFO-MUFON-ALIEN connection to this,
and I mean TO ALL OF THIS. They all fully believe, and I mean the
entire AATC (Ancient Astronaut Theorists Club) that all of the
UFO-ALIEN-ABDUCTEES are part of not only a single situation, but
that this is an entire GENERATIONAL PROBLEM, as in Jim Burr's
SPIRITUAL-PROBLEM quotation, and Dave Roth's SECRET MASON CHART
PROOFS that indeed,my HUNTINGTON FAMILY
is all directly descended from not only fucking ABSOLUTE
ROYAL BLOODLINES, but the quintessential
bloodline to the HUMAN RACE, and its obvious
interactions with the TRUE ASTRAL-PLANE GODS (COINS/COILS OF THE
PURGATORY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Let
me throw in just one more thing here, willya' me' great peeps???
Who else has a following of only one great
brave person, yet is read all
over the Planet EARTH, and has an overall
average 5K monthly PV-BLOG?
Does that make rational sense??? Does
anything that is discussed and cannot be disproved by any of you,
make sense at all, to the human rational logical mother fucking mind
for even one damn New York minute, YO BRO????? Tell me just how you
really could ever explain the BLOGS OF
MOUNTAINPEN, besides admitting the one great human
realm saying that mountainpen most certainly and definitely DID NAUT
MAKE UP, “WHERE THERE'S SMOKE, THERE'S
FIRE”!!!!!
Mar
2,
2020 7:00 AM – Mar
9,
2020 6:00 AM
|
SO------WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!
SO------WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!
SO------WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!
SO------WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!
SO------WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!
SO------WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!
SO------WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!
FOR
ALL GREAT DICE AND LUCKY SEVENS AND LENNY MCKINNON RECORD PROMOTERS
ALL OVER TH EPLACE, HUH MOPMAN SIGMA LENNY AN DIN RESPECTFUL MEMORY
OF THE LATENGRATE SIR DAVID CHARLES ROTH OF NORTHEAST PHILADELPHIA,
PENNSYLVANIA, USA!!!!!
And
now a wee bit of non Shamrock memories, naut from the actual
thoughts or endless wisdom sound bites from photon memory (the past)
with lovely Mizz Patty Hollister H.H., butButButButButBUTTTTTTTTTTTT
rather, Sir Mike Soft (Microsoft Corporation), me' own sayings and
prophetic wisdom and notations from earlier blogging and earlier
android0.5 non Mike Soft MORIANITY, yo! Shall we progress and march
ever onward wit that: I speak here of this.bootloader and THIS crazy
WEEDEEKAWUSS STOCK MARKET with the seemingly fucking endless nutty
wild VOLATILITY ON STEROIDS for weeks and weeks now. Way UP, Way
DOWNloaded DOWN, Mister Microsoft Corporation,
BUTButButButButBUTTTTTTTTTTTT ALWAYS WAY WATY WAY SOMETHING, and
never just slightly quieter trading days for crying out mother
fucking loud. I told the agent from TD-AMERITRADE about four years
or so ago when the DOW was much lower than it is after our small
whittle mini-down spell recently,that it would go right back up to
over 5,000 basis-points higher, and sure enough, IT DID EXACTLY AS I
TOLD HIM IT WOULD DO. I not only know WHAT these markets will do but
exactly WHY they do it. Ever since 1986, the American Financial
systems began to have a major PARALLEL EVENT with the life of this
blogger, the Mountainpen, AKA MARK WAYNE MOHR. When the markets go
UP, my life goes DOWN, and the reverse applies as well.
BUTButButButButBUTTTTTTTTTTTT a lot of other shit is also involved
in this mighty and surreal and absolutely inconceivable equation
here, me' great folksinger FOLKS out here, and most of you know this
is all the truth by now. I could harp on with how people who have
access to great wealth and power abnd influence who can pay off a
neighbor or a coworker or anyone else around me, a few thousand
bucks cash, and they will do some nasty rotten thing to hurt me, so
that the stock market will go way up the following day. Let me tell
you al something. This has been a reality in my life for almost four
straight decades now, and it is why these markets have literally
grown from a couple of thousand points to where they are now,
between 26 and 32 thousand points, but here is the kicker yo. You
can expect the fuckign DOW JONES to not only go back up to 30K, but
to 40, 50, 60, 70 and higher, and all before this decade is even ONE
HALF FUCKIGN OVER. I will tell you why and what these pricks have
done to me so that this MUST IN FACT HAPPEN, as more blogs come out,
but for now, Sir Bruce Pennock, Mister FCC CHAIRMAN BOB MCDOWELL,
RETIRED NOW, and MYSELF, are saying to you, if you are alive an
dreading these words, “{How's our little dick in the mouth doing
these days?} I remember so damn well how McDowell would keep asking
you that out in the goddamn Pennypacker Park Woods, behind Hopkins
Lane at our school called Bancroft at Cooley-Hall; and how you would
say back to him, “YEAH, NOW
WHAT DO YOU WANT”, and then he would reply AGAIN, “You're
my little dick in the mouth”, and this would go on
and on as we would walk along; and to this very day, if you are out
there too, Bob McDowell; YOU KILL ME BUDDY,
and I still think about that every single mother fucking day, yo
BRAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
CURSING
BRUCE PENNOCK ON WFMU
Comments
November 09, 2006
The Ravings of Bruce The Piano Man (MP3)
When I
was in college, a friend gave me a cassette containing the
frustrated rantings of a guy named Bruce. Bruce
is a dad from suburban Jersey. He tries to fix things
around the house, like the family piano. He does his
own taxes. And he uses very colorful language, some of
which was caught on tape by his son. Listen for
yourself here
(6MB MP3 file, NSFW)
When I
listened to this at 22, all I heard was Bruce's rage. I
thought it was hilarious. Listening now...
Well, it's still hilarious. But it's kinda sad, too.
His kids are no help. Half his fucking papers have
disappeared. He can't even let himself go enough to
really commit to his cursing. His goddamns are outnumbered by
his goshdarns. He even doggones once or twice.
It's tempting to read all sorts of things into this
diatribe. Is it really about the piano? Or was he
passed over for a promotion? Does he know his son is hiding
somewhere nearby taping his every word? Did the car
break down? Does his wife not appreciate him?
Have his glory days passed him by? Who knows?
Poor Bruce. If we can learn one thing from him, it's to
spend the $300 and buy the right fucking tool. Ya
fucking moron!
Posted
by Listener
Therese on November 09, 2006 at 10:50 AM in Audio
Mysteries, MP3s,
New
Jersey | Permalink
July 30, 2015
You No Longer Need to Beware of the Blog
"Almost"
is a funny word, isn't it?
We will
keep every single post up here for all of eternity, and
someday, WFMU may resume online publishing. First we need to
find an admin though, something we haven't had here for many
years, which is part of the reason that we are shutting it
down.
Thanks
everybody!
Posted
by Station
Manager Ken on July 30, 2015 at 09:06 PM | Permalink
I
wish the dude who knows the Pennock family would contact me some day
on a comment on my blogs, because if me' ol' COOLEY HALL pal
Bruce is still alive and kicking in 2020, I'd weelwee luv to make
contact with him. The last time I was over at his house, his brother
Brian and his parents were alive, and it was the year of 1976. I was
renting a home in Blackwood, NJ-USA, and Bruce still lived where he
did in school days, at 2 Beaver Drive, Barrington, NJ.
SO------WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!
Hey,
same thing goes for the great and mighty NOW-RETIRED FCC-CHAIRMAN.
SUP Bob, yo?
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
ANDroid0.5,
AND YESSIR, ALSO QUITE DAMN
WEEDEEKAWUSS, LOVELY K.P. I
AM SO GLAD YOU AND BOB BOTH TOOK DAN
MACKEY'S GREAT ADVICE AND WISDOM TO HEART,
YO; AND MY BEST TO MISSES
HILLARY CLINTON. PLEASE LET ME
KNOW WHAT HEARING 'MY NAME'
WAS ALL ABOUT, THAT DAY THAT YOU SANG YOUR GREAT SONG AT HILLARY'S
RALLY; LOVELY D.Q. GIRL,
PWEEEEEEEEEZE!
THANK YOU VELY VELY MUCH!
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
Cut
me a break here, Marge Leo, yo!
JULY
1969
S.
M. T. W. T. F. S.
1
2 3 4 5-----WEEK
0
6
7 8 9 10 11 12----WEEK 1
13
14 15 16 17 18 19----WEEK 2
20
21 22 23 24 25 26----WEEK 3
27
28 29 30 31
AUGUST
1969
S.
M. T. W. T. F. S.
1
2----WEEK 4
3
4 5 6 7 8 9----WEEK 5
10
11 12 13 14 15 16---WEEK 6
17
18 19 20 21 22 23---WEEK 7
24
25 26 27 28 29 30---WEEK 8
31
SEPTEMBER
1969
S.
M. T. W. T. F. S.
1
2 3 4 5 6-----WEEK 9
7
8 9 10 11 12 13----WEEK 10
14
15 16 17 18 19 20----WEEK 11
21
22 23 24 25 26 27----WEEK 12
28
29 30
OCTOBER
1969
S.
M. T. W. T. F. S.
1
2 3 4--------WEEK 13
5
6 7 8 9 10 11-------WEEK 14
12
13 14 15 16 17 18-------WEEK 15
19
20 21 22 23 24 25-------WEEK 16
26
27 28 29 30 31
NOVEMBER
1969
S.
M. T. W. T. F. S.
1--------WEEK
17
2
3 4 5 6 7 8--------WEEK 18
9
10 11 12 13 14 15-------WEEK 19
16
17 18 19 20 21 22-------WEEK 20
23
24 25 26 27 28 29-------WEEK 21
30
DECEMBER
1969
S.
M. T. W. T. F. S.
1
2 3 4 5 6----------WEEK 22
7
8 9 10 11 12 13---------WEEK 23
14
15 16 17 18 19 20---------WEEK 24
21
22 23 24 25 26 27---------WEEK 25
28
29 30 31
JANUARY
1970
S.
M. T. W. T. F. S.
1
2 3-----------WEEK 26
4
5 6 7 8 9 10----------WEEK 27
11
12 13 14 15 16 17----------WEEK 28
18
19 20 21 22 23 24----------WEEK 29
25
26 27 28 29 30 31----------WEEK 30
FEBRUARY
1970
S.
M. T. W. T. F. S.
1
2 3 4 5 6 7------------WEEK 31
8
9 10 11 12 13 14-----------WEEK 32
15
16 17 18 19 20 21-----------WEEK 33
22
23 24 25 26 27 28-----------WEEK 34
MARCH
1970
S.
M. T. W. T. F. S.
1
2 3 4 5 6 7-------------WEEK 35
8
9 10 11 12 13 14------------WEEK 36
15
16 17 18 19 20 21------------WEEK 37
22
23 24 25 26 27
28------------WEEK 38
29
30 31
HAPPY
BIRTHDAY MERRY,
TWO WEEKS FROM FRIDAY, HALF A CENT NOW, WEEEEEEEE!
Does
that Mountainpen dude ever ever ever ever ever ever forget anything
for crying out fucking loud; Surfer Fonty?
Yes
peeps, I told how while I was living in that Oaklyn, New Jersey
apartment, where several years earlier when only age fifteen years,
SARAH KRASSLE seemed to cross over the
dimensions of reality, and actually managed to remove
physically, the chain kept in my locked
box inside of my bedroom closet, and how I had that wild
DREAM, woke up, checked the box, found the chain MISSING got on my
school bus, saw that gigantic county wide VET VAPOR TRAIL that took
an hour or more to disapait completely that contained a full
asterisk three angled jet crossing with six points, but how when I
was just about out of my teens altogether, and almost before moving
out of there into 1118 Linden Hill Apartments of Lindenwold,
NJUSAESMWG; I was told a wild story by my mother when she came home
from work that did not have anything whatsoever to do with her
coworker, Mizz Hollister. It did
somehow all JRSS-dot-connect into a great future television show
called LAW & Order however or so it
most definitely seems to me. You can all laugh and scoff until
eternity blows out butButButButButBUTTTTTTTTTTTT and but people, I
am going to tell you all something quite DAMN
HUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE here, yo!She got home and began fixing
dinner and if memory is serving me at all correctly here with this
particular day and experience; she had left the office a wee bit
early that day for reasons I do not fully remember now, and I was in
me' bedroom watching that great show from those days, taking place
in the Florida Keys, called, “FLIPPER”. Just as it ended, I
heard her come into the apartment, and I shut off the TV set in my
room and walked out into the kitchen area that was situated
in-between my bedroom and the living area, with a bathroom going off
into another direction. She then said to me, and before I so much
as said 'HAY', and not to get Melanie
Safka, the great folksinger, all excited heredahelda or
here, BUTButButButButBUTTTTTTTTTTTT,
and but people; I'll never forget her exact words to me on that late
afternoon. She said, “Mark, I just have to tell you what happened
on the bus ride home from
workplacedotcom or from WORK, oh great
and quite weird Microsoft Corporation
of any and all non-Einstein world famous physical
to astral world, interconnecting formulas!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So
back to the bus ride. My mom took the bus that ran from Philadelphia
into many numerous South Jersey suburb areas, with Oaklyn being just
one of them, and ran down the Jersey WHITE
HORSE PIKE. Our apartment was one half block down
from the pike and we could go anywhere in the world from right at
our door, that is if we had any fucking money, and we didn't, so tee
hee hee to you too Mizz Lilly Munster
“All-Over-Again-LUV-AFFAIRS”, Easter Sunday's of 2001 years, and
or lovely Lightning Goddess Diana Zuudlecronessia Arteemis COILS
from the great unfathomable ASTRAL-PLANE!!!!!!! So it seems
that somewhere in-between where me' mom got onto this bus on Broad
Street or Market Street somewhere in the great and awesome city of
BROTHERLY-LUV that is AKA PHILADELPHIA, PENNSYLVANIA; a dude got on
and was “quite an intelesting character”,
to quote me' ol' pal, who went onto become the FCC-CHAIRMAN-DIRECTOR
or 'whatever', Sir Bob McDowell of COOLEY HALL. No, we are naut
forgetting to give you the endless credit that you deserve here, ol'
country-music-vocalist turned Federal Congressman, Bob Andrews, who
sang on two of my country tunes in 1980, and sang some other tunes
that I had written in both the years of 1975
and 1977, three out of these four total songs, now
forever there in that greatest of all TIME
CAPSULE that is AKA the United
States © Copyright Office,
of 'Wash your hands', happy birthday's of all kinds, Corona-virus
nightmares, and districts of Colombia called WASHINGTON
13-600 DC or something along those damn lines, huh
Senator Sanders, ol' +platformArchitecture+
and OL' PAL, AND
YOU TOO I SUPPOSE, SIR MIKE SOFT
SPELLCHECKER SYSTEM!!!!!!!! BUTButButButButBUTTTTTTTTTTTT
folks, getting back to this dude who got onto the bus somewhere
in-between where me' mom did in Philly and where she got off at our
Oaklyn, New Jersey apartment called the DELLWAY
ARMS APARTMENTS, on Oakland Avenue; trhios guy gets on
and was the quintessential character, saying and doing all sorts of
whackadoodle things and having the entire bus literally roaring in
fuckign ass stitches, for crying out damn loud as hell. Maybe some
hacking scum out there already knows this story and doesn't wish it
told, since my fucking cum-puke-her just froze up quite suddenly and
for no apparent reason while I just saved my prior paragraph on my
OPEN-OFFICE program, since I've learned to save every few sentences
since enemies have given me so many power interruptions and even
purchasing power pack computer bricks cannot seen to resolve my
losing important blog texts when they perform that particular
persecution on me from time to timesliceBufferSize or TIME. WOW is
MIKE SOFT giving me some strange stuff here. Maybe it works in some
connection to recently copied shit off the net such as the recently
posted up WFMU junk. This may activate some random or programmable
system inside the program to make it perform like this.bootloader
and like THIS. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!
I've learned never to try and figure out what computers, hackers, or
programmers are truly all about, at least not beyond the truths that
lay higher up in REAL REALITY truths of the great GODS coming into
mortal life in three ways as told recently about, and one of them
being the stuff that all of our modern day electronics and
electrical integrated world of th e modern era is all about and that
every single one of our devices could not operate without. Thus who
is really controlling who, Mizz Lillian Erby from 1965, you lovely
lovely girl?????????? So anywho, this dude who was the character of
all wild characters everywhere and anywhere and not
to get little Merry
who now is all grown up and just coming up on her 50th
birthday now, too excited about things such as these, or
butts or big ass butts in general,
from opening earlier years of Morianity Bible Days; but let me move
this along here, yo! So this wild dude is doing all manner of crazy
things and has the whole damn non
Tony-Orlando bus going half crazy or singing perhaps
about yellow ribbons, butButButButButBUTTTTTTTTTTTT
then he did the thing that I will never ever forget, and connects
into a 2008 'L&O-SVU' TV-SHOW, called,
“SAVANT”. He suddenly belts out three words, over and
over and over again, he keeps saying, and he said it just like
lovely 1999 Mizz Helen Zebriski used to say the word 'good' with
about ten big HUUUUUUUGE “U” pronunciations in it, “Somebody
smells GOUUUUUUUUUUUUD”!!! I told about this many years
ago on the first two years somewhere in my Morianity Bible and
Morianity BLOGS, in 2006 and 2007. so then along comes, naut
Mizz BLAKE from the great mighty AT&T
Corporation, and NAUT “THE END SAVANT
CUTIE PIE” either, butButButButButBUTTTTTTTTTTTT, and
yessir, BUT, big ass fucking BUTT, but; the great Almighty wonderful
SIR DICK WOLF. I also don't believe anything is a mere coincidence
that the regular L&O show quoted, such as McCoy's dream where he
never reaches the land and is swimming towards the shoreline without
assistance from Mister RPL PRESIDENT in 1980, Ernie Merker, or the
great DA Adam Schiff and his pendulum swinging back and offsetting
the inability of anyone to have positives accruing for them in this
miserable event that we all call HUMAN-LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Believe
me, the list is both absolutely extensive as well as completely and
totally exhaustive, and these are just a few little quick examples
of why I know that I am indeed the center of something very huge,
Senator sir, and that the James Redfield Synchronicity Syndrome or
JRSS for a shortened abbreviation here, is AN ABSOLUTE FUCKING
REALITY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
You
know, I knew all about taking random shit off of anything
any timeSliceImpl and ANY
TIME, OH GREAT MICROSOFT; long
before my pal ever mentioned it. I knew this already, and I was
merely vely vely vely Bob McDowell happy, that some other human
being realized that great and powerfully awesome mother fucking
truth. Think seriously about all of this folks. If you were the
only one in the whole goddessdamn workplacedotcom WORLD,
who absolutely knew certain things and you also were totally fully
aware that naut one single soul anywhere in this cosmos could ever
relate to you, would you not then come to fucking feel that you were
all alone, and also completely isolated from the rest of the entire
damn cosmos? Would you not be nuts as all shit just from having to
suffer through that horrendous damn reality, yo??????????? Now
multiply that by about forty-seven and a half
nonillion-vigintillion. Now you have the Mountainpen's great agony
and pain that burns intensely for eternity and then some!
But
let me just show you by randomly pulling anything at all and adding
it to the blog being done at current minute of timeSliceImpl TIME,
oh wonderful great Mister Microsoft Correspondence
CORPORATION?????????? To quote the awesome beyond words, and whether
or naut we all be straight or gay, Sir TOM GLENN, allow me to “TRY
THISSSSS”, with a little wee bit of assist from great and lovely
Mizz All My Kids ERICA, AKA the actress and total beauty queen, Mizz
Susan Lucci!!! WO.
RED
ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT---RED ALERT
AND
NOW I KNOW THAT I KNOW, CHPT. 4
4:29
POST
MERIDIAN
WEDNESDAY
AFTERNOON
6
NOVEMBER, 2019
FORT
PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA, ESMWG
MOUNTAINPEN'S
LUNAR PHASING CYCLE CHART:
WEDNESDAY,
NOVEMBER 6, 2019
CURRENT
PHASE IS: WAXING GIBBOUS 2:7
N.M.
WXC1 WXC2 WXC3 WXC4 WXC5 WXC6 WXC7 F.Q. WXG1 WXG2
WXG3 WXG4 WXG5 WXG6 WXG7 F.M. WNG1 WNG2 WNG3 WNG4 WNG5 WNG6 L.Q.
WNC1 WNC2 WNC3 WNC4 WNC5 WNC6 N.M.
FULL
MOON ACTUALLY MEANS
THAT IT IS 12 NOON ON
THE MOON.
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IF
THIS KEEPS UP, this will be the rating for
MOUNTAINPEN'S
WEEKLY SECRET SCALES THERMOMETER/BAROMETER:
Week
***********************************************l
the
week ending Tuesday afternoon, 11-12-2019.
THAT
I MOTHER FUCKING PROMISE YOU ALL, YO!!!
ON
DAYS THIS BAD, WHO FUCKING CARES?:
DATE----------------TIME------------
TEMPERATURE:----
HEAT
INDEX FEELS LIKE TEMP:----
HUMIDITY:----
WINDS:----
PREDICTED
HIGH:----
SKY
CONDITIONS PRESENTLY:----
RAIN
CHANCES TODAY:----
I
FELL UNDER A NASTY MOTHER FUCKING DEATH ASSAULT EARLY THIS CUNT
CHEWING GODDESSDMAN MOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURNING, YO! It began at 1:49
with ANOTHER ELECTRICAL BROWN-OUT that lasted three seconds or so,
followed by waking up to upstairs dirtbag scum moving furniture
around at 3 A.M., SHERIFF KEN MASCARA SIR, and then roaches crawling
around on my wall right next to my mother fucking bed, and more of
them out in my kitchen crawling on my dick licking walls!!!!! When
three big ass things happen all together following a nice brief
whittle fucking quiet spell; this always means one thing and one
thing ONLY, A
MAJOR MILITUFORCE DEATH SIEGE IS STARTING UP
AROUND ME, YO BRO!!!!!!! Then I took another electrical brown out
shortly past four, followed by horrendous TRIAD HELL NABES, pounding
on my walls starting at around three this cunt chewing
DISAFTSTERNOON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THANKS FOR ALL THE HELP, OH GREAT AND
MIGHTY SHERIFF KENNETH J. MASCARA, KIND SIR!!!
YESSIR,
YESSIR, AND YESSIR, YO YO YO:
MY
OWN LEGALLY PAID FOR PHOTOBUCKET
PHOTO,
ILLEGALLY HACKED OUT, SHERIFF!!!
Mark
Wayne Mountainpen Huntington Mohr
©
2006-2019, 'BOM' (Blogs
Of Mountainpen)
NEXT
WEEKS' REDLINE COULD HIT THE NEXT HIGHER RED STAR, YO!!!!!!!!
PLEASE
TAKE THIS AS THE WARNING IT IS MEANT TO BE, PEEPS!
CALLIO-CALLIO-CALLIO-CALLIO-CALLIO-CALLIO---CALL-10
JO-JO,
JO-JO, JO-JO; ROTTEN CALL TEN:
“FUNNY-FUNNY-FUNNY”,
HUH GREAT AT&T?
“FUNNY-FUNNY-FUNNY”,
HUH GREAT AT&T?
“FUNNY-FUNNY-FUNNY”,
HUH GREAT AT&T?
“FUNNY-FUNNY-FUNNY”,
HUH GREAT AT&T?
“FUNNY-FUNNY-FUNNY”,
HUH GREAT AT&T?
“FUNNY-FUNNY-FUNNY”,
HUH GREAT AT&T?
“FUNNY-FUNNY-FUNNY”,
HUH GREAT AT&T?
“FUNNY-FUNNY-FUNNY”,
HUH GREAT AT&T?
“FUNNY-FUNNY-FUNNY”,
HUH GREAT AT&T?
“FUNNY-FUNNY-FUNNY”,
HUH GREAT AT&T?
“FUNNY-FUNNY-FUNNY”,
HUH GREAT AT&T?
“FUNNY-FUNNY-FUNNY”,
HUH GREAT AT&T?
“FUNNY-FUNNY-FUNNY”,
HUH GREAT AT&T?
“FUNNY-FUNNY-FUNNY”,
HUH GREAT AT&T?
“FUNNY-FUNNY-FUNNY”,
HUH GREAT AT&T?
“FUNNY-FUNNY-FUNNY”,
HUH GREAT AT&T?
|
Mohr,
Mark W., 1954-
|
PAu000501582
|
1983
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
THE
GLOBAL ENLIGHTENMENT OF MORIANITY.
THE
RELIGION FOR MILLENNIUM THREE
YES
BEAUTIFUL 'PATTY HHH', THIS HACKING IS MAKING ME WANT TO BURN
WITH FIRE, LOVELY QUEEN OF THE
WICCAN LANDS,
AND BLUE CANDLES AT THE
J-CEM!!!!!!!!!! Oh well gorgeous Mizz
Irene Cara, at least they're NAUT damn 'FLASHDANCE
MEMORIES' of so many wild 'BULLISH
DJIA ICPE-APE-TECH'
other great and unfathomable skating
rinks!
WEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
|
Mohr,
Mark W., 1954-
|
PAu000325091
|
1981
|
WOW-WOW-WOW!!!!!
THIS
IS TOTALLY WEEDEEKIWUSS, KATY ABSEACON QUEEN!
THIS
IS TOTALLY WEEDEEKIWUSS, KATY ABSEACON QUEEN!
THIS
IS TOTALLY WEEDEEKIWUSS, KATY ABSEACON QUEEN!
THIS
IS TOTALLY WEEDEEKIWUSS, KATY ABSEACON QUEEN!
THIS
IS TOTALLY WEEDEEKIWUSS, KATY ABSEACON QUEEN!
THIS
IS TOTALLY WEEDEEKIWUSS, KATY ABSEACON QUEEN!
THIS
IS TOTALLY WEEDEEKIWUSS, KATY ABSEACON QUEEN!
THIS
IS TOTALLY WEEDEEKIWUSS, KATY ABSEACON QUEEN!
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMAGNESONIC:
Computer,
hear my MVP (Mind-Voice-Print). You will be totally absolutely
crushing, obliterating, annihilating, and devastating, wrecking,
ruining, and utterly wiping out, all of my enemies that are viciously
persecuting me ON
THIS SUPER BOTBAR 6th
DAY IN NOVEMBER OF 2019,
WITH MAX-POWER AGAINST ALL PERSONS AND FORCES BEHIND THE ASSAULT ON
ME WITH MAJOR UTILITY PERSECUTION, MY TRIAD NABES FROM HELL AND THEIR
INCESSANT FUCKING HAMMERING ON MY WALLS,
on a crush-destruct order,
under GENERAL-ORDER-189, max.-power.
Open-Command, General Order #7. Use G-901, G-1133, G-14, G-719, G-13,
CG5555-QP4 sub-code, under G-917, CG-2, under CG-18, and
HOLD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Your
old AT&T landline telephone old style 1983 built tone-commands
have been data-transferred into the two highlighted long-EEEEE vowel
sounds. The high-tone is colored RED.
The low-tone is colored BLUE.
Computer
(Magnesonic) under my command and precisely matching voice print, I
have an image-object (I-O) now placed on your transpower-block (T-B)
after I have crush-destructed this. Once empowered, all actual beings
matching this I-O on your T-B will be exactly crushed and singed and
destroyed as the original I-O. To accomplish the scan, use
your ZD
technology built into your system. To accomplish this
sympathetic reality duplication, use your AD
technology, (ZD-Zero-Dimensional), (AD-Atomic Duplicational).
Computer,
'MAGNESONIC', on an 'I'
to 'D', A/B—TONE, PHASING
PUNISHMENT SEQUENCING SYSTEM; you will now be transmitted the
two empowerization-transmit tones,
or ETT'S.
I
called the utility company to complain this afternoon,
and was told that they do not service this building and that I need t
direct me' complaints about the power interruptions to the Fort
Pierce Housing Authority, and so I will place a certified letter to
them, IN TOMORROW'S MAIL, ON MY WAY OVER TO MIDWAY ROAD AND SHERIFF
MASCARA'S DAMN OFFICE!!!!!!!!
I
also had a nice talk with the Miami professor, and learned that my
idea, great as it may be, is about one hundred years off from being
feasibly used the way that I had hoped. Good ol' Mountainpen, always
ahead of his time, and then when Dave Speas and his TIME do
eventually always catch up with me, yo; POW, I still am screwed. This
is the ever dependable factor that is somehow quite endlessly and
HOLLISTER-magically hidden somewhere behind those lovely and forever
enduring OZ CURTAINS!!!!!!!! Hey, at least I
didn't say Hilloster-MAGIC, or discuss magic typewriter
programs 100 years before their truly intended use, in
all of thissssssss!
Yes,
at just around three on this totally mother fucking disasternoon, my
PIG TRIAD
NABES FROM HELL began hammering on my walls and moving
furniture again. Even now, this furniture moving and loud noise on my
cunt chewing floors is horrendous, as if any of the cunt lapping
authorities around here could give a tiny wee whittle bit of a damn
shit ass piss BRO! I must MOVE OUT OF HERE, even if it means ending
my life as I know it, and doing what I did ten years ago. I will just
get into my car with the clothes on my back and RUN AWAY, IF I WANNA'
SURVIVE ALL THESE SKY-MUSICAL MESSAGES or (SMM) for a shortened
mother fucking pussy chewing abbreviation, yo me' damn ass
BRAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!
My
cunt lapping twisted life couldn't be more dick eating screwed up if
someone with great power was paid thirty trillion bucks to make it
be! AND THAT is a mother fucking pussy eating promise, yo yo yo yo yo
yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo!
-
UNIDENTIFIED FLYING OBJECT
BY M. K. JESSUP
Transcribed by The Quantum Future Group Castelnau-Barbarens, France 2003, and was left as a comment on Mountainpen's 2007 blog. -
-
-
-
- I doubt there is any direct lineage to the witch doctor Wilson, from 1965.
-
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PREFACE
On the evening of April 20, 1959, an astronomer committed suicide in Dade County Park, Florida. Inhaling automobile exhaust fumes, which he had introduced from the tail pipe through a hose into his station wagon, he died in the same academic obscurity in which he had lived, unheralded and almost unrecognized in his discipline. Ironically, the scientist’s only public recognition had come from lay people, who had read his series of four books about unidentified flying objects. Morris K. Jessup’s first book, The Case For the UFO, had tended to alienate him from his colleagues, though it came and went with relatively few sales. Its publisher sold it off to second-hand bookstores at $1.00 each. Today it brings $25.00 or better per copy, if you can find one. It was a paperback edition of the same book, published in 1955 by Bantam Books that enmeshed Jessup in one of the most bizarre mysteries in UFO history. An annotated reprint of the paperback was laboriously typed out on offset stencils and printed in a very small run by a Garland, Texas manufacturing company which produced equipment for the military. Each page was run through the small office duplicator twice, once with black ink for the regular text of the book, then once again with red ink, the latter reproducing the mysterious annotations by three men, who may have been gypsies, hoaxters, or space people living among men. The spiral bound 8 ½” X 11” volume, containing more that 200 pages, became known as The Annotated Edition. The reprint quickly became legend. A few civilian UFO enthusiasts claimed to have seen copies, and it was rumored that a few close associates of the late Mr. Jessup possessed copies. Many people claimed it simply had never existed. Because you are now holding a virtually exact facsimile of The Annotated Edition in your hands, it is most obvious that the book existed. But the big mystery still remains: why did a Government contractor go to so much trouble to reprint a book that had been rejected by the scientific community, and further to include mysterious letters to the author and even more bizarre annotations? And with this mystery goes the suspicion that the book may have been printed by the manufacturer at the request of the military, which implies Government interest in some of the weirdest aspects of “Flying Saucer” study.
Jessup’s Background Not much detail is known of Jessup’s life before he emerged as one of the early writers on UFOs, mainly because nobody has taken the trouble to do the needed research. Probably the most that Ufology knows about him prior to his involvement with flying saucers is contained on the jacket flap of his first book. He is described as having been an instructor in astronomy and mathematics at the University of Michigan and Drake University. The Jacket copy also notes that Jessup completed his thesis for the doctorate degree in astro-physics at the University of Michigan, though it does not state whether on not he was awarded the actual degree. In the academic business, usually the thesis is the thing that comes
- last, and is the final step in the awarding of the doctorate degree. Sometimes these doctoral candidates are deferentially called “Doctor” by their associates, though it cannot be used officially by them. T his would seem to be the case of Jessup, who was often addressed as “Dr. Jessup”, but who never used the title in correspondence, nor on the covers or title pages of his four books. Very likely Jessup was never actually awarded the degree. Apparently, his thesis consisted of a report on his research program which (again according to the book jacket) resulted in several thousand discoveries of physical double-stars “which are now uncatalogued in the Memoirs of the Royal Astronomical Society of London”. The short biography also lists other important research activities by Jessup. It indicates that he was assigned by the United State Department of Agriculture to study the sources of crude rubber in the headwaters of the Amazon, though no date is given. He made archeological studies of the Maya in the jungles of Central America for the Carnegie Institute of Washington. Without identifying the source of sponsorship or financing, the jacket states that he explored Inca ruins in Peru, and concluded that the stonework he found there had been “erected by the levitating power of space ships in antediluvian times”. Also: “Mr. Jessup’s latest explorations have taken him to the high plateau of Mexico where he has discovered an extensive group of craters. They are as large as, and similar to, the mysterious lunar craters Linne and Hyginus N, and he believes them to have been made by objects from space. They are presently under study by means of aerial photography and the study will be ready for publication in approximately eighteen months”. Apparently the further exploration of the craters was never carried out. According to James W. Moseley, former publisher of Saucer News, Jessup sought university, foundation and private sponsorship of the project, but was unsuccessful in gaining sufficient interest and funds. The Allende Letters The mystery of the annotated paperback edition of The Case for the UFO was preceded by a series of strange letters from Carlos Miguel Allende addressed to Jessup. Two of these, reproduced as part of the Annotated Edition, appear in the following pages. The letters claimed that as a result of a strange experiment at sea utilizing principles of Einstein’s Unified Field Theory, a destroyer and all its crew became invisible during October, 1943. “The Field was effective in an oblate spheroidal shape,” Allende wrote. He added that “any person within that sphere became vague in form, and that as a result of the experiment some of the crew went insane. Further horrifying aspects of the alleged experiment are detailed in the two letters (See Appendix). The Allende letters became connected with The Annotated Edition when the Varo Manufacturing Company evidently got in touch with Jessup in regard to the latter. Varo’s unusual involvement in the mystery began a few months after February 1956, In April of that year Admiral N. Furth, Chief of the Office of Naval Research, Washington D.C., received a manila envelope postmarked Seminole, a small town in Texas. Written across its face was the notation “Happy Easter”. When Furth opened the envelope he found a copy of the Jessup paperback. We are not certain of Furth’s reactions, but we can assume that he thumbed through the book and that his interest was piqued by a series of notes, interjections, underscorings, etc., in three colors of ink, apparently written by three different people. Only the name of one of the authors of the annotations appeared in the notes, that of “Jemi”. The paperback had apparently been passed through the hands of the strange annotators several times. This conclusion could be drawn from the fact that the notes indicated discussions between two or all three of the men, with questions answered, and places where parts of a note had been marked through, underlined, or added to by one or both of the other men. Some had been deleted by marking through. The notes had a tone of absolute weirdness. Sometimes they agreed with Jessup’s original text; sometimes they contradicted it, as they referred to two types of people living in space. They specified two habitats for the space people: underseas, and what they termed the “stasis neutral”, the latter term apparently in agreement with Jessup’s exposition on points of neutral gravity in space. They mentioned the building of undersea cities and identified two groups of spacemen, “L-M’s” and “S-M’s”. The “L-M’s” were designated as peaceful, the “S-M’s” as sinister. People have a very long way to go, because they are yet far from being able to connect the dots of the paranormal and supernatural, with the truths of UFOLOGY or aliens, and then combining all of this together with the better understanding of religious origins, AND I WAS JUST FUCKED BY ANOTHER ELECTRICAL OUTAGE. Yes the MILITUFORCE did not want my previous blog to say the shit that it did, and so I got fucked out of my LEGAL FREE SPEECH, by these diseased TRUMPED-MONSTERS from hell, AKA “DOGTOWN”!!!!!!!!!!!! Actually the BRIGGBASE is NAUT Dogtown. These are two separate ASTRAL-PLANE realities or “condition-interactions”, as Mountainpen's Morianity labels and lists them, yo! Yes indeed folks, and great marvelous, wondrous and terrific, fantastic and sensational AATS BLOGAUDIANS out here somewhere yo; human consciousness also plays a powerhouse part in this combination of ingredients. So just where does the human brain/mind, and our consciousness, truly originate; and is it all a commingled part of the other listed items? I of course say that it is 100% interconnected. This is the absolute truth of SPACE-TIME-MIND, (STM)!!!!!! In my original document, now lost to the MILITUFORCE and their harassment and UTILITY DEATH SIEGE ON ME EARLIER TODAY, AT JUST PAST FOUR THIS MORNING SOMEWHERE, YO YO YO YO YO; I was referencing a place that I lived during my early life as a boy in Westmont, New Jersey, USAESMWG, at 125-A Haddon hills Apartments, and I had tied in some truly amazing fucking shit, including my CHAIN that was given to me while living in that apartment, by my organizational CIA-AGENT and Campbell's Soup Company FRONT, big brother, Mister John Henningsen, and had tied in a perfect groupation of philosophical as well as scientific talking points. This is quite fucking cunt obviously YYYYYYYY the MILITUFORCE, caused my document to “vanish and disappear” into the damn early morning mist, and just as they have in like manner, made so many other 'non-Atlantic City' items do as well; yo me' damn BRO!!!!!
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And
now, I will tell all
of my
BLOGAUDIANS
another thing,
before I move still onward with the topic that was totally and
absolutely fucking forbidden earlier today, and thus was wiped out
of existence, as I was not saving every sentence the
way I now am back to fucking doing, yo peeps! The majority of my
“ideas” are actually my spirit journeys
that you call DREAMS, into parallel alternate realities or parallel
universes, that we all visit in our spirit while asleep, and
dreaming; and my 1992 idea
that I shared with the professor at the FIU in Miami, was no
exception. I saw people living in a world where they all had
this thing. But I have also gone to worlds where a lot more than
this was going fucking on around me, yo. So the real Shakespearean
question here is not “To be or NAUT to be”,
but rather, did my spirit voluntarily travel to
some OTHER-ATLANTIC CITY around the start of the second week
in June in 1980, and hear that PINK GODDESS
outside of the Frailenger's Salt Water Taffy Store singing that
magical tune, “Love Is For Carpenters”,
or DID SHE AS A NORTH POLE MAGNET, LITERALLY ATTRACT ME AS A SOUTH
POLE MAGNET, TO THAT PLACE SO THAT SHE COULD SING THAT LIFE-ALTERING
TUNE TO ME? Come on Billy-Shake yo,
which way does it truly go, as in is the chicken first, or is the egg
first, OR OR OR OR OR OR OR OR OR, and another Bernie Sanders totally
awesome and quintessentially HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE query, are the
combined realities ONE AND THE SAME, as in the egg as well as the
chicken happened first, last, and at all interactions of reality that
lay in-between??????? This is all intertwined with the truths about
what really human awareness or consciousness is all fucking about,
and is even why the MILITUFORCE felt it goddessdamn necessary to
strike me ILLEGALLY earlier today with that MONSTROUS UTILITY DEATH
PERSECUTION and ELDER ABUSE!!!!!!!!!!!
My
entire story revolves around the very same Gene Roddenberry entity
that aired as the first STAR TREK episodes after the original
PILOT-EPISODE called, “THE CAGE”, and was called, “Where No Man
Has gone Before”. I speak of Almighty PINK
GODDESS, and its present and previous incarnations here on
the Earth-Planet, the one after the car salesman printer journeymen
and gold expert, mister Moroni of the great Mormon's Latter Day
Saints of my 61st great grand daddy's globally famous
uncle Jesus's Church. But then we don't stop here, 'not
by' a Perry white Superman 'LONGSHOT', telephone hollering
Kent. Not that many episodes later towards the end of the great 1966
year, and after I had managed to somehow magically escape the
horrendous hellishness of the New Jersey Neuro Psychiatric Institute
in late June earlier that same year, in almost one piece; came that
wonderful episode whose title escapes and eludes me at this present
second, but was the one where the inventor of the warp-drive, Mister
Zephran Cochran, was stranded on some little world far away, WITH ONE
OF MY CHILDREN, ONE OF THE COILS ANYWAY, and fell in love with her;
and also how she chocked Spock and Kirk, when
they tried to shut her off, the same way that she did to me in 1983
when I tried to disconnect myself from her via that wild Privecode
machine. I said it before, and I'll go right on proclaiming
and stating these facts. Ol' Gene knew about these things, and
actually, I saw a wild documentary show on some
educational-television program a few years back, that admitted that
he had been made privy of major MILITUFORCE secrets and long before
his STAR TREK SHOW ever saw the fucking light of day, he was actually
introduced to aliens who TOLD HIM ALL ABOUT THESE THINGS, and who
knows, MAYBE EVEN ABOUT ME!!!!!!!! This shit sure fits perfectly
together, yo!!!!!!!!!!!! Deny it if you want to. Trump and his
climate deniers are quite real and active too. There really are
people that you can bring all the proof in the world right to their
hands, and they will still stand there and just fucking spit right in
your damn ass eye, me' BRAHHHHHHHH!!!
END
TRANSMISSION.
Whoremaster!
Check out Phillip Larkin’s poem This Be The Verse.
Thanks. 19/01/2010