ON PARANOIA AND ISLAMOPHOBIA: HISTORY; PAST … PRESENT … AND PROSPECTIVE

Humor Arthur. Imagine, all, that we’re all …  brothers; and that @chachomanopapa‘s Arthur, @uriminzok’s Kim and Don, the @POTUS, tweet … on @twitter.

What follows is history; past, present and prospective. The epic poetry of a dimwitted Arthur Everman petitions for alternative facts, on new medium, twitter.

Imagine that when, on 12-21-12, nothing galactically cosmic happened, in actuality, authors Art, Don and Jong, megalomaniacal cyber brothers, went atwitter.

Imagine as well that while Kim Jong-un and ‘the Donald Drumpf’ know of the third, the third,  Art, knows them well and that they are overly fond, of their words.

Not so hard to imagine; the three do indeed tweet on twitter; but the two brighter brothers’ world view isn’t as prescient, as is that of the dimwit, third brother.

Imagine that in dreamy reveries and at soirees Victorian, the three, with history’s visionaries,  connected; eating drinking and crafting, their epigrammatic poetry.

Imagine too that words, the most wondrous units ever to be conjured by the minds, of men surreally may be used, by man, to make real, aspirations … human.

In reveries, dreamy at soirees, Victorian, history’s philosophers, poets, artists and visionaries with the megalomaniacs, Kim Jong un, the Don and Art did .. meet.

Kim Jong un now tweets world leaders diplomatically. cc: the Don, Nigel Farage, Geert Wilders, Marine le Pen, Xi Jinping and Vladimir Putin, et. cetera … on twitter.

Kim Jong un’s brother, the President of US, fancies himself a co-author of a best-seller already, next to the Bible, said he, the book, of all time, the very best-selling.

Of course, ‘The Art of the Deal’  is in reality, a book that was actually written, by a ghost, laboring in, relative anonymity. A legal fiction … that ghostwriting.

“What ten words, do you, to humanity, bequeath,” in a dream asked a fallen angel, of a drunken Art. “Answer that in poems, to the republics and nations.”

Now, it had happened that Penemue (a Watcher Angel, fallen), for his God-damned salvation’s sake, posed to Art a plan whereby each might gain salvation.

“Answer epically and poetically that question and ye may win for both of us, perhaps, salvation,” he continued, as Art, beneath his sheet, cowered, in reaction.

“Only poetry, the metaphysical language of love may Earth’s humanity yet save; only my poetry, of the written forms, emotes, and evokes, sufficiently.”

Art Everman’s poetry is meant to acculturate! For acculturation is but modification, of behavior, as applicable to group behavior as it is to individual behavior.

So Art Everman writes on 3 levels; 140 character epigrammatic tweets metamorphose to
980 character blogs, to a compendium, book; a poor man’s publicity.
“What ten words, do you, to humanity, bequeath,” in a dream asked a fallen angel, of a drunken
Art. “Answer that in poems, to the republics and nations.”

Is it possible for ye humans to be more like bees? For ye must be more like bees if ye are ever to be one community. To be or not … to be?

Most certainly, ye must be more like bees if ye hope to ever be, one community. To be, or not to be? That is, for humanity,  the threshold question.

It is Scripture (the Testaments, Qu’ran, the Book of Mormon, et. cetera) wherein lives wisdom, and the uncommonly, common, Rules … Golden.

The very cross-cultural commonness of Golden Rules, evidences, their significance. This repair manual is in the spirit of that significance.

Is to be or not to be ever to be the question? As in your brother Hamlet’s soliloquy, this is about nobility but soliloquies are of Another.

The children of Allah/God/Jehovah/Yahweh are brothers and sisters before Him, it mattering not at all, our nationality nor our tribe to Him.

Earthlings! Do heed Penemue,  for I am the one and only Watcher of the original 400, left too do (what eons ago), he was commissioned by Another … to do.

What ten words do you, to humanity, bequeath?” An intriguing question; the inception to an
alchemical introspection and … transformation.

That question, posed to Arthur (Art) Everman, post 9-11, was asked of Art, by a faceless one. “Who”, asked Art, “are you?” “Your counterpart” …

… he replied … cryptically . “More specifically, I am, Art, Penemue,  a fallen angel.” 400 (200 princes and 200 followers), fathered … the Nephilim.

Nephilim (the giant men of renown in Genesis) were fathered by the fallen. All but three of  the 400 are in chains a-waiting the Day of Judgment.

The chained are the fallen angels who married and commenced in unions with human women, and who taught … knowledge … forbidden.

The unchained three remain unchained because they married and fathered not, Nephilim and because what they taught (wo)men, to Him, answered.

To wit, while 397 of the fallen, lusted after, married, and procreated Nephilim, three, albeit fallen, revealed knowledge … not forbidden.

Fear of Muslims in US, fear of Muslims in a European, Union; fear of Muslims seemingly, near everywhere; must it forever be us, versus them?

It may be, albeit, unlikely, that visionaries step up. Arthur Everman’s poetry, a letter to the nations, a la the poetry, of my dear Emily.

Arthur’s poetry is, a la Emily’s Dickinson’s, a letter to the world, a la Willy’s, plays on words and a la Rumi’s, ruminations on mysteries.

Art draws inspiration from the lives of the poets; from the westerners Emily Dickinson and Willy Shakespeare, to an easterner known as Rumi.

From history’s poets, philosophers and scientists Arthur draws inspiration; and from Allah/God/Jehovah/Yahweh’s most magnificent creations.

Platformless, Art writes on 3 telling, levels; 140 character tweets metamorphose into 980 character blog logs and a book; a poor man’s … publicity.

Kim communes with his cyber brothers, President Don, Arthur, and history’s luminaries, nightly.

 

Kim dreams, surreally, with Don, Arthur, and history’s luminaries, about peace, and prosperity.

 

So Kim, Don and Art dreamt, mused, spoke, wrote, tweeted, blogged and  penned, surreally,

psychotherapy; poetry in need of, but, photography.

Earthlings!

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