To mark ceasefire, July 27, 1955, Kim to launch ICBM again.  No treaty ever ended hostilities.

Donny, the war in Korea is not over.  Tweet, to Kim.  Tweet him, an entreaty.

In lore of universes. Urantia. But not in an unbroken and honorable universal service. Rather,

Urantia has been bad.  Like Don and like Kim, Presidents of states, nuclear.

Urantia has been the stage of most unanticipated and unprecedented events. Of all universes,

Urantia’s been earning places, in the lore of the more traditional, universes.

1000 AD. Machiventa Melchizedek, the contemporary of Abraham returns to Urantia for

100 years, acting invisibly, as Urantia’s, 1st, Resident, General Governor.

The death of Judas.  Fastening one end of his cloak to a small tree Judas ties the other end

about his neck.  Then, he casts off from a precipice, to a meaningful, end.

Sunday.  April 9.  A 3rd day.  At 3:02 am, Jesus resurrects.  Death, of life, is not, extinction,

but rather, a mysteriously wonderful transition to another classification.

30 AD.  April 7.  Friday, afternoon.  Jesus, dies.  Just before 3:00, the tragedy is finished.

Jesus in loud, final voice, cries out, “It is finished!”

At about 9:30, Jesus is hung, upon the cross.  By 11:00, upward of 1,000 persons, Romans,

and Jews, are witness to to the horror of the crucifixion of the Son of Man.

30 AD.  April 7.  Friday morning.  The Crucifixion.  Shortly after 9:00 a deadly procession

arrives at Golgotha. Romans and Jews execute, an execution.

Soldiers set about the task of nailing to their crosses, two brigands and the Son of Man.

One brigand on either side of, the Son of Man.

During those dreadful hours the unseen hosts of universes stood silently by, while gazing

upon a dreadful scene.  Before their very eyes, the Son of Man, was dying.

Arthur’s soulless brothers worry.  Kim and Don have ‘blustered’ themselves, into corners.

And when cornered, even cowardly creatures may fight for their futures.

Increasingly, Kim and Don worry.  Each worries, what the other is up to.  What, the other

will do.  Art for his part worries not.  For Art counts on, way more, others.


Jesus once referenced “other sheep, not of this flock.” So, no matter who, is out there,

we know we are God’s children no matter our origin, no matter, where.

This system has more or less, 619 inhabited worlds and more than two hundred planets

are evolving toward becoming, in time, in the future, inhabited, planets.

Jerusem is Satania’s headquarters world.  It is in system number twenty-four.  Not so far,

away in the constellation of Norlatiadek.  Still, Satania is, pretty darn far.

Increasingly, Kim and Don worry.  Each worries, what the other is up to.  What, the other

will do.  Art for his part worries not.  For Art counts on, way more, others.

The beautiful legacies of Gandhi, King and Madiba are that their way of truth, is the way,

of non-violence, justice and mercy.  It is, not coincidentally, the Jesus way.


Of all man’s knowledge, greatest value’s in knowing the religious life of Jesus and how he

lived it.  Urantia Book, Page 2090, Paper, 196:1.3  Jesus.  He of the Trinity.

Jesus once made reference to “other sheep not of this flock. “No matter who’s out there

we know we are all God’s children no matter our origin, no matter where.


Soliloquy.  Art’s epic poetry.  A cosmological and anthropological history.  A subplot, tiny.

Science fiction, nonfictional.  But one only, of His really, countless, stories.

Soliloquy.  Ontology.  An algorithm.  Yellow brick roads to peace, and elusive, prosperity.

An epic poem, to legatee-children.  From epigrammatic couplets, alchemy.


The Urantia Book (hereinafter, UB) is a book drawn, from minds, unknown.  It’s authors,

and a medium, all unknown.  All of ye share with them but a single Father.

“IN THE MINDS of Urantia’s (Earth’s) mortals there’s confusion about meaning regarding

God, divinity and deity.”  On what the UB’s unknown authors, are alleging.

On goings-on on Urantia (Earth) and space about it.  A cosmic room with an infinite view.

On history.  Past.  Present.  Future.  And peace, and prosperity.  A, how-to.

A how-to, to peace and to prosperity.  A critical review of your residence, cosmic.

A how-to, to prolong, Urantian, anthropological, history.  Use it, or lose it.

The Devil made them offers that they couldn’t refuse.  They accepted his offers.

The terrible truth is that Kim and Don, for power, their souls, bartered.



But Kim and Don differ.  They dealt with the devil.  And they accepted, an offer,

from him.  An offer they couldn’t refuse.  Their souls, for earthly power.

And for riches.  And luxury.  Don’s lot is to be in the company, along with Abel’s

bros, Cain, Adolph, Alex, Attila, Napoleon and lots, of other, little people.

Whether ye want, or not, ye are brothers.  Art’s brothers Kim and Don, like Abel,

and like Cain.  But it was by his nature that Cain, was less able, than Abel.

None of the three, need suffer.  Not Kim.  Not Don.  And not, Art.  Three brothers,

are Kim, Don and Art.  Whether they want to be or not, they are brothers.

Tiny subplots of His story are the stories of Kim, Don and Art, the three brothers,

megalomaniacal.  No one of them need suffer, if all of them, are brothers.

The Devil made them offers that they could not refuse.  They accepted his offers.

The terrible truth is that Kim and Don, for power, their souls, bartered.




A how to to peace and prosperity.  A review of your cosmic home, albeit critically.

A how to to prolong history, an autobiography; a tiny subplot of His story.


On goings-on on Urantia (Earth), and space, about it.  A cosmic room, with a view.

On history.  Past.  Present.  Future.  And peace, and prosperity.  A how-to.

A how to, to peace and prosperity?  Fat chance!  There’s no way.  It’s too complex.

Kim has the think tanks thinking: “Kim’s got more plutonium, than we previously

thought.”  Fuel for Kim’s ICBMs.  Gifts, Kim calls them.  Gifts for the Donny.

Like, Obama care.  Like, courtesy.  Simplify, Don, when things are complex.

Goings on, on Urantia (Earth, to ye), would be so entertaining if nonfiction were

fiction. But, now that Kim, Don and Art, in dreams conspire, the lines blur.

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Kim’s adamant; says he’ll retaliate if UN sanctions him.  Don’s desperate.  Donny

needs, a victory.  Any, victory.  Any victory shall do, for a loser, like Donny.

First, on the issue of the armistice and ending the war, direct, 2-way, negotiation,

‘tween my bro Kim’s, DPRK & my bro Don’s, US.  Then, 6-way negotiations.

Second, a 6-way negotiation on phased disarmament and a phased reunification,

of a peninsula, mining rights, Kim’s security, holdings and the Kim legacies.

Oil’s key.  And the Korean peoples’ rights to vast, underground mineral treasures.

And Kim’s security.  And the legacies of Kim, his father and his grandfather.

Oil’s key.  If oil’s curtailed on set schedule, Kim may be forced back; back, to DMZ,

tables. cc:  @uriminzok @moonjaein_ @xijingping @putinrf @cnn @msnbc

Vlad’s spies espy as Xi sends Kim near 500,000 tons of nearly free crude oil yearly.

Largely it’s free.  Oil.  Once again, oil is THE KEY commodity.  Copy to Donny.

@PutinRF’s spies, espy, as @xijingping sends 500,000 tons of oily crude to Kimmy,

@uriminzok.  Oil.  Black gold.  Incredibly, near free.  cc:  @potus (the Donny) …

@PutinRF’s spies, espy. @Xijingping sends Kim, @uriminzok, half a million, yearly,

tons of oil. Communists. Taking care, of each other.  cc: the @potus, (Donny)

Angel-Trainee Art once was a layman lover, turned lush, turned lyrical philosopher

who learned of truth and wisdom, not in any school, but rather, as a dreamer.




Heard one about the Jew, the Christian and the Muslim in Palestine’s, Jerusalem?

It’s a real riot!  In it one of them deduces then says to the other two of them:

“Yo bro!  As long as there’s peace amongst nations Armageddon cannot ever be,”

said he to the other two, of oft un-brotherly, threes.  The three Abes agreed.

The three in unison prayed.  “If peace ever comes by definition then Armageddon

comes, not.”  Bombs to Jerusalem, came not. Delayed, Dabiq / Armageddon.

Peace has ne’er been but it may yet be if ye but presciently act as a unitary family.

That is to say, if ever ye all at once, commune, as a single, unitary, humanity.

Insight’s blind.  Hindsight’s 20-20.  Peace comes from algorithmic action.  Wise up,

(wo)man (homo sapiens sapiens)!  Just do it, (wo)man.  (WO)MAN!  WISE UP!

If peace ever comes, by definition then, Armageddon, cannot be.  Alas, a riot may be,

funny or may be tragic.  Alternative histories rightly, alternatively, shall yet be.

Words for ye wise men:  Ye self-named twice-wise, homo sapiens sapiens:  EXHANGE








Fittingly tri-fold may be the epilog of Arthur Everman’s SOLILOQUY:  Peace, prosperity

and poetry, albeit temporarily if but wise guy homo sapiens learns ‘Twitterese.’

History and prophesy mitigate against plurality, rescuing, and saving, a blind humanity

reform from a sovereign to a pawn-based humanity.  But reform’s an exigency.

Behavior modification works well, in individuals.  It may work, even more dramatically,

for the anachronistic and fractious nations.  Verily, nations need act, promptly!

Don’s been a disaster as Prez.  Withdrawal from Paris’ Climate Accord make Nicaragua

and Syria our company; the dispirited and disunited, United States of America.

Paris and Pittsburgh; and a Climate Accord in stark disaccord, with my amoral, brother.

Donny’s spoken.  Even Kim, the Paris Accord, favors.  The irony of it, too bitter.

SOLILOQUY:  Toward behavior modification of the sovereignly, rudderless, 200 nations.

In ironic reaction to conflict on Earth, Madiba’s reconciliation.  Add poetry and children.

SOLILOQUY:  On reality, surrealism, fiction, nonfiction, and, in addition, neuro-scientific,

nonfiction.  A how-to-do; penning revolutionarily epigrammatic, poetry, pacific.






Jerry’s comedy about nothing has nothing on Art’s SOLILOQUY.  For Art’s SOLILOQUY

is about everything.  Caveat.  Dear lector:  This long poem is epically, lengthy.

Ironically, photo-poetry may be humanity’s best weapons against the weapons of war,

of Don and Kim.  Mightier than swords, are pens!  And pictures are worth far,

far more, than countless words.  Children!  Citizens!  Lend me, Ham, your ears.  Listen,

to Art.  For if Urantia’s (Earth’s) Angel-Trainee Art Everman fails in his mission

impossible, what has never happened, shall happen.  Art shan’t earn, his angel, wings!

By the way; if Arthur earns not coveted wings, shit, will really start happening.

Only faster.  Much, much faster.  For long, long before Don and Kim became presidents

an elder, much elder brother was, of Urantia’s Hall of Records, a new resident.

Sorry if I seem pissed.  Ye’ve no idea, what Art’s been through.  I, Hamlet, of Willy fame,

Prince of Denmark, am but one of many Soliloquy’s narrators, to ye, entertain.

In hindsight I Ham am noble, and a fool, too.  We who write ye from beyond our graves

write with in hope that ye children write too.  Ne’er again, be ruled, by knaves.





It happens that Penemue, a Watcher Angel fallen, for his own God-damned salvation’s

sake, googled Google, for a certifiable, weakling, to propose to, his salvation.

It was Penemue who the Bible says, “pointed out to them every secret of their wisdom.”

He taught (wo)men of ink and paper for writing, albeit, men kept it, for them.

It’s been Penemue (Pen, to us), who’s been a master of ceremonies at every-nightly

soirees, where deceased visionaries envision, via poetry.

In reveries dreamy and at soirees Victorian, history’s philosophers, poets and luminaries

with wannabe megalomaniacs Kim, Don and Art, meet.

He googled too for great writers of prose to collaborate with these unlikeliest of brothers,

to best inject prose-like drama, into epic-like, poetry.

“Tweet, blog and pen alchemically,” said Pen to the three brothers grim. “Algorithmically

tweet epigrams into transformational, BUT pacific, poetry.”





Don’t misunderstand.  There is a law on the books prohibitive of diplomacy, by citizens,

private.  Ne’er enforced, it is, there; an abridgement of speech against citizen,

activists.  Especially the citizen-activist-twitter-diplomats of republics and sovereignties.

Twitter-diplomacy.  Sad.  But look at the bright side, Don.  It’ll be, your legacy.

That the presidents Donny and Kimmy are gunning for one another is totally compelling

of itself.  But 140 characters, makes for text, with uniform margins, compelling.

Kim’s 1st ICBM rattled.  Donny’s ‘measured response’ response is risky.  But sooner

rather than later, Kim’s North and South Koreas reunify thanks to twitter.

In the interim, Kim, Don and Art, agreed. In view of current events, a TEMPORARY, freeze

for a freeze. Two tyrants and a tenant, so agree.

Kim’s 1st ICBM, rattled.  Donny’s ‘measured response’ response, is risky.  Sooner or later,

Kim’s North and South Koreas are to reunify.  Thanks to diplomacy, on twitter.

In a phone call with Don on Monday Xi chillingly warned US.  Get a grip Don.  Chill

out!  There are 7 billion of us, besides you two, incorrigibles.  Do not, kill!

In a blunt phone call one Sunday night Don (who at times, speaks in the 3rd person)

said to Xi: “Don is ready.  He’s able.  He’ll do to Kim what he did to CNN.”

The history of North Korean missile development, has now entered, a deeply grave,

new phase.  Of Don and Kim and Art.  Of everyone.  And brothers, graves.




980 (140 X 7, 280 for an intro, 420 for a body and 280, for ends) characters for max efficiency

in couplet construction may highlight form by designing

Real men for real women.  Beyond Beyonce jams Jay-Z.  4:44’s blueprint for all (

Women when her one and only man loves a one and only woman.  Let it, be.  Let it, be.

Beyond Beyonce jams Jay-Z.  Kool-Aid, to her lemonade.  A mature man loving a woman.

4:44’s a blueprint for (wo)men; for, when her one man, loves his, one woman.

Beyond Beyonce jams Jay-Z. Kool-Aid to her lemonade. A mature man fulfilling a woman,

half, of him.  Blessings, B and J, and Sir, and Rumi.  From (wo)man … a family.

I get it.  You doubt, Art.  Nearly everybody, does.  But I Hamlet, know Art.  And so, I know

that Arthur, an author, and an angel wannabe, unlike Kim and Don, high goes.

That the presidents Donny and Kimmy are gunning for one another is totally, compelling

of itself.  But 140 characters, makes for text, with uniform margins, compelling.

Congrats, Mika, Rachel, and Joe.  This ugly footnote ironically, is adding, Art is surmising,

to bribery and perjury on top of justice’s obstruction and to an iconic FBI, lying.

Congratulations Rachel, on msnbc’s coverage of President’s Donny’s Russian connections.

Interview Art, the soon to be late author, too late, the discoverer of Twitterese.

Content (that Presidents Donny and Kim are gunning for one another) is very compelling

of itself.  Twitter’s 140 characters, makes content’s form’s text, more compelling.

@Facebook @google @youtube @microsoft @amazon:  For there is a beauty, compelling

in form and content if a poem’s margins are uniform and content, is compelling.

For example:  Content, that the Donny spells ends to Trump family brands, is compelling

of itself.  Yet, if expressed in 140 characters, content’s form, is more, compelling.

@Facebook @google @youtube @microsoft @amazon:  For there is a beauty, compelling

in a poem’s form is, like twitter’s, algorithmic.  Add in content, aptly compelling.

@Facebook @google @youtube @microsoft @amazon: @Twitter, is key!  For, at Arthur’s

Children’s School of Poetry, Arthur teaches of sublime beauty in 140 characters.

@Facebook @google @youtube @microsoft amazon: Amazingly, it’s because of Arthur’s

Kid’s School of Poetry’s taking on evil with beauty, the beauty, in 140 characters.

@Facebook @google @youtube @microsoft @amazon: Why is @twitter, a key? Arthur’s

Children’s School of Poetry, Art teaches of the beauty in 140 characters.

@Facebook @google @youtube and @microsoft There is alchemy in Art’s 140 character

connector, language.  It shall connect, legatee child-poets, on @twitter.

@Facebook @google @youtube & @microsoft:  There’s vast potential energy on twitter

in the poetry, of children, via @twitterese, Arthur’s, language, connector.

@Facebook @google @youtube @Microsoft and @twitter:  A Children’s School of Poetry

on twitter Art founded and found there a vast source of potential energy.

@Facebook @google @youtube @Microsoft and @twitter:  Art has discovered in poetry

mountains of words and fountains of art, at a Children’s School of Poetry.

@Facebook @google @youtube @Microsoft and @twitter Do not sell Art short.  For Art

has discovered in poetry, mountains of words and fountains of youth, art.

@Facebook @google @youtube @microsoft & twitter: Please do help us global entities;

global entities like Art and a Center for Strategic and International Studies.

@Facebook @google @youtube microsoft and twitter, are commissioning researchers,

to share solutions and war with governments, in your wars, against terror.

Eerily, @facebook and @google’s @youtube @twitter & @microsoft are forming global

groups to kill terrorist content from international platforms, multicultural.

Eerie synchronicity.  Eerie mystery.  Eerie irony.  SOLILOQUY’s summarizes His story’s

algorithmically, alchemical twists:  Polygamous, social media matrimonies.

What’s a Facebook community?  Community pages are those member, Facebook pages

dedicated to topics, common to communities.  Please do, follow these pages.

Facebook wants more meaningful online communities.  Like Facebook’s Mark and Art’s,

Ham-narrated, do-it-yourself book, ‘SOLILOQUY’.  Ditto, Donny, Kim and Art.

The cyber brothers, Arthur, Kim and Don are extraordinary artists of deals, and masters,

of diplomacy; in Pen’s plan three fates are augured by, lightning and thunder.

Armed with pens in hand, poets, pen worlds.  Mightier than worlds of swords, are worlds

of words.  A pen is mightier, than even the very sharpest, of steely, swords.

Kim, Don and Art learned of Pen’s googled plan in visionary dreams at soirees, Victorian.

Three men tasked to ask the right questions, left unanswered, by omission.

But what’s really crazy? Given what’s at stake isn’t it crazier not to tweet, than to tweet?

Ought not all (wo)men communicate?  Ought not all, by commission, tweet?

The western-educated and American pop culture obsessed Kim IS it seems, ready to deal

with Don and Art. Kim told us as much last night, saying, “Let’s make a deal!”

“I am old.  I am dying.  I am afraid.  I am frighteningly afraid.  Not of dying.  It is of dying”

said he, “sans staging a soliloquy; one last soliloquy, about living, and dying.”


A paranoid, obsessive and compulsive, Kim.  Factor in a paranoid, obsessive, compulsive

and megalomaniacal, Donny; of all this no one ought be too overly, dismissive.

After all, Don’s leak of a secret plan, unsubtly entitled, “Decapitation Option To Kill Kim,”

makes for a dangerously, compulsive, Kim, albeit a less, megalomaniacal, Kim.

Kim decries his country’s victimhood, denying badly treating or torturing the Don’s Otto.

alleging on the contrary its “humanitarian” treatment of the pawn that is Otto.

Aside from some risky ‘decapitation’ options twitter diplomacy may ironically ultimately

be, our very best option for peace and prosperity, from North Korea’s Kimmy.

Kim’s North Korea, it has been confirmed, has vast mineral reserves of rare earth metals,

critical to the manufacture of smart phones and other high-technology articles.

UN:  World population: 9.8 billion, by 2050.  That’s just 10 years before Sir Isaac Newton’s

Armageddon, 2060, calculation, scientific.  Plots, and their subplots, do thicken.

Xi’s efforts to sway Kim haven’t worked says Don.  So is it on to a DECAPITATION option?

Especially now, that Otto’s been made into, a fatefully, shameless, provocation?

This is not good Kimmy.  Your return to US of a comatose Otto ups the pressure on Donny

to do ‘something’ to you.  Something short of, or beyond, traditional, diplomacy.

Convicted of subversion, against Kim’s DPRK, for trying to steal a souvenir, hotel, banner.

Otto was severely sentenced, to 15 years, of potentially, fatally hard, hard labor.


Resist, Twitter.  Hola.   Hello.  My name is Hamlet.  It’s a name given me, by a witty Willy.

Oh, ye silly, Earthlings.  Please do, immediately, heed me.  Please do, please, me.

Don’s having Dennis open secret lines,  to North Korea’s, Kim.  Arthur’s suggestion to Don

is:  Let chachomanopapa’s Arthur Everman negotiate a deal with both of THEM.

Arthur wants his brothers Don and Kim, to let HIM, barter with THEM.  No, Rodman.  No,

diplomats.  Please, simplify this, Earthlings!  Tweet everyone!  Just, us!  Just, so!

Don is thinking, of Kim.  Kim, likewise, is thinking, of him.  Arthur, is thinking, poetically,

of them.  All of them, plot.  Don, for riches.  Kim, for power.  Arthur, for poetry.

Earthlings:  Resist, @Twitter.  Art’s words are meant to address adults, only, incidentally.

Our beloved legatee children, shall best and most easily see, the Sylvia, in Arty.

Children, shall best see Sylvia, in Arthur Everman.  Through me, Hamlet, and others, too.

Lots of them.  Dead (wo)men.  Dead children.  And undead, public figures, too.

Dead women, men and undead, public figures; the heroines and heroes of “SOLILOQUY”


are history’s very own, from Hammurabi, to these times, so Trumpianly, surly.

The lines blur between SOLILOQUY’s heroines, heroes, villains and the often antagonistic

protagonists, that shall in turn, speak in favor of Art’s, acculturation, alchemic.

Ham’s soliloquies, whether his, or surrogates’, are meant to be, algorithmically alchemic.

Gold has been done.  But Arthur Everman’s alchemy is necessarily, algorithmic.

So, @MSNBC:  Because death’s last sigh, draws nigh, and Arthur Everman’s mission, is in

peril, please, MSNBC:  Please, interview me.  Please, make of fiction, nonfiction.


It is a felony to lie to the FBI.  Ironically, lying to yourself, your wife, your party and to

the people is OK. But, lying is bad, for your brand.

Donny: Lie to yourself, your wife, your party and to the people. Do not, Donny, lie,

to the FBI. For ’tis a felony to lie, Donny, to YOUR, FBI.



Donny: Lie to yourself, your wife, your party and to the people. Do not, Donny, lie,

to the FBI. For it is a felony, Donny, to lie, to YOUR, FBI.

Donny is in need of a distraction. For distraction is in his nature. For more reasons

than one. For Don reflects we, not wont, to well reason.

Another; he is a septuagenarian whose juvenile comportment belies his maturity;

childish ere all these years. I Hamlet, do fear the Donny.

Another; notwithstanding his spectacular, coiffure, Don lacks, presidential, timber.

In his missile crisis, what now? More threats, on Twitter?

I, Hamlet, fear Donny. Willy and Rumi, fear him too. Ditto, Pen, Art, Kim and Don,

himself. Ditto, the poets and visionaries. We, fear, Don.

Don? Afraid of himself? Verily ’tis so. We are afraid of him. He’s afraid of himself.

No one knows why. No one but Vladimir Putin, himself.

No one knows but Vladimir Putin. He’s, a villain. He’s, a bad actor. He’s, a baddie,

in this tiny subplot, of this incredibly, tragi-comic, story.

The Donny is in dire need of a big-time distraction. It’s second nature to him. Kim

ought not, lower his guard. The Don, is thinking of him.


Kim’s trigger finger itches. Donny’s, too. Arthur worries as he writes knowing that

rookies make rookie mistakes. It’s like a last time at bat.

Kim has near as many missile launches in this year alone, as overseen by his father

— 16 — during, 17 years of power, come from his father.

From poetry peace and from peace prosperity. Three megalomaniacals; Kim, Don,

and Arthur do, as Ovid and Emily, would be, wont, to do.

Oh, bittersweet, irony! Today, terror visited the Iranian Parliament in Teheran, Iran,

and Ayatollah’s Memorial. Seven dead. Hostages taken.

Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice, to deceive. Judged by all;

the Donny but he listens, not. Not to anyone. Not at all.

Don doesn’t listen on Twitter, either. He doesn’t listen, anywhere. He doesn’t listen

to anyone. He just doesn’t listen. And he shuns reason.


Angela on Don’s wall: “A physical barrier won’t resolve any country’s immigration

issues.” She is of the Resistance, like too, Mr. Macron.

Mr. Macron, aka, Emmanuel Jean-Michel Frédéric Macron is Co-Prince of Andorra,

Spain, and France, and the President of France, Europa.

Andorra’s citizens enjoy the highest life expectancy on the planet. Formed in 1278,

it’s headed by Presidents of France, and Bishops. Spanish.

Emmanuel Macron, the French Boy Wonder; a welcome check against the Donald;

He might form, along with Angela, a tandem, of angels.

With Angie, Emmanuel forms half of an angelic, tandem; champions of life, liberty,

fraternity, and the pursuit of happiness, in that, liberty.


For Edward Bulwer-Lytton’s … “True, This! Beneath the rule of men entirely great,

the pen is mightier than the sword [and great the state].

Cæsars: Strike the loud earth, breathless — Take away the sword — states can be

saved without it!” [love’s poetry may yet save the stately]

To the end of rendering Penemue’s plan to pen alchemical algorithms in poetry to

Humanity. Art, and his dead poet pals, want to, arm you.

Arthur Everman and his dead poet pals want to arm you, via your children’s poetry.

Only our children’s poetry may free us from surreal reality.

The plot, and the subplots. following, are the stories of three children of God, three

megalomaniacal brothers and billions of others, poetically.

Kim, Don and Art; three megalomaniacal brothers and billions of others, poetically.

This is their story. And this is your, schizophrenic, history.

For too long now it’s been feeling like humanity’s final, at bat. For nuclear powers

cannot risk even a single old-fashioned conventional war.

To be, or not to be? Humanity’s, threshold question. High-technology algorithms

we dead poets agree, may well counter, authoritarianism.


The long, poem. Like, ancient epics. Like Homer’s, Iliad. Like his, Odyssey. Ironically,

at 1.8 million words, the Mahābhārata is, most lengthy.

Vyasa’s Mahābhārata, is Urantia’s lengthiest epic poem. Its 1.8 million words, less its

prose, makes more than 100,000 couplet verses, iconic.

That makes Vyasa’s epic roughly ten times the combined length of Homer’s Iliad and,

Odyssey. All along its length, compelling content, spans.

Is Daesh (ISIS/ISIL), winning? Larger, and better, questions are: Is humanity, winning?

“To be, or not to be?” Is humanity its humanity, losing?

Arthur Everman’s 40 years in a delusional wasteland have been terribly educational; in

them he’s learned everybody’s crazy, everyone but him.

Everyone is crazy; everyone, but him. The proof is in the pudding. For that the nations

rule makes sense to near everyone. Everyone, but him.

God, not any nations, rules man, notwithstanding, anything. Mark, Art’s words: Neither

Caliphate nor Jewlsh state’s, forever. No state is forever.

All conflict on Earth is domestic violence, however, in this seemingly fictional,nonfiction,

it is militarized. But, it has remedies, in real, nonfiction.

Domestic violence has remedies, in law, and in fact. Among them, a few are separation,

reconciliation, toleration, and eventually, acculturation.

But acculturation takes time. Generations sometimes. Time is limitation. A better query

than whether ISIS is winning is: Whither goeth humanity?


Behavior modification; a human imperative; ‘cause conflicts on Earth are so commonly

domestic violence. For resolutions, separate the parties.

History, prophesy and nature mitigate against humanity being somehow, miraculously

saved, from a tragi-comical, sovereign-based, humanity.

Accordingly, HAMLET’S, LAST, SOLILOQUY: On ontology, realism, fiction and nonfiction,

and, in neuro-scientific, science-fiction, a ready, remedy.

What needs to be read by everyone on the planet ,can not be while bottled up in Twitter

Streams. A tsunami becomes placid streams, of Twitter.

A thin veneer of civilization masks a savage beast lurking within the heart of every man.

Behavior mod works in individuals. Why not for all men?


Behavior modification; a human imperative; ‘cause conflicts on Earth are so commonly,

domestic violence. For ready resolutions, separate parties.

Separate, the parties. Because all violence is domestic violence, it demands the parties’

physical separation, That’s true for spouses, and countries.

There are forks in the road in space-time in individual lives and in a collective humanity,

moments when our course we may alter uber-consciously.

Behavior modification is a proven commodity; so, Art mused, if it works for individuals;

maybe it may work even better for multiples of individuals.

Urantia now numbers 196 nations, 4200 religions and 6500 languages; too many labels,

divisive for a sub species so easily and naturally, homicidal.

Nationalism and ‘religionism’ are real twin threats to sub species homo sapiens sapiens,

in these most surreal, and near incredible, synchronicities.

Humanity is devolving too quickly too fast; far more quickly than it’s evolving; especially,

now that three, are converging, surreally and climactically.


Imagine then that when on 12-21-12, nothing cosmic happened, three wannabe authors,

Kim, Don and Jong, unwittingly became, cyber brothers.

Imagine too that while Kim Jong-un and ‘Donald John Drumpf’ know of the third, the third,

Art, knows they are far too fond of their political words.

Not hard to imagine; the three, do indeed, tweet on twitter; but the two brighter brothers’

world view isn’t as prescient, as a dimwit third brother’s.

Imagine too that words, those wondrous units, may be spoken, written and indeed, woven

into art. Art to make poetry inspire, aspirations, human.

Imagine then. in dreamy reveries, Victorian, soiree-like, wine and cheese, parties. History’s

luminaries, partying. Eating, drinking and making merry.

Imagine then that of all the earthly forms of written expression most like heavenly hymns,

‘Tween chapter and verse, ’tis verse that is favored by Him.


Pen’s commission, to Art: Tweet. Blog. Pen to the children your epigrammatic, poetry.

Teach them an algorithm. For there is alchemy, in poetry.

We Watchers, we rebel angels (known in Islam as Jinn), once, long, ago were defeated by

Creator Allah/God/Jehovah/Yahweh’s forces, long to laugh.

We Watchers, we the Nephilim, of Genesis, long to rest, at long last, finally; our lengthy

sentence is: To view in chains, your re-runs, perpetually.

Watchers watching re-runs (in chains, no less), perpetually; sure sounds, like Hell to me,

Hamlet, but thankfully He is The All-Merciful, The Almighty.

We Watchers, we lovers of women have longed to rest. So, implausibly, Pen helped Arty

Everman, to write dramatically gripping, novel-like, poetry.

The commission’s this one: Write to the children of the nations. Let 140 characters be key

to best, President Kim, Caliph Abu, and President, Donny.

And so the founding of Arthur Everman’s School of Free Addictive Poetry. The composition

of epigrams is Art’s specialty, no matter the language medium.


The medium written of (in the prior tweet) refers to the tongue of the tweeter.

@Chachomanopapa‘s Art tweets in American English, on Twitter.

Arthur Everman’s School of Poetry @chachomanopapa; on poetic composition,

of epigrammatic, couplets … no matter the tongue, of the citizen.

Pen’s commission to Art: Tweet. Blog. Pen, to children, epigrammatic, poetry.

Teach them an algorithm.  For there is alchemy, in poetry.

Money, it’s often said, is of evil, its root. It makes the world go round. Certainly,

much evil is done incident to money.  ‘Tis the devil’s, currency.

However, it needs it not. For if anything makes the Earth go round, it is His love,

sweet love and not vile, evil.  Currency is moot, if one has love.

What ten words do you, to humanity, bequeath?” It was a frightening, question;

the inception to introspection, transformation, and evolution.

That question, posed to Art Everman post 9-11, was asked of Art by a bright one.

“Who,” asked Art, “are you?” “I am one of 400 fallen ones.”


“Your counterpart,” said he, “am I,” he cryptically, replied. “For I am, Art, the fallen

one; of 400; 200 princes and; 200 followers, long forgotten.

Nephilim, the giant men of renown in Genesis, improvidently, fathered. Judgment,

reserved. Of 400, all but three, in chains, await Judgment.

The chained are fallen angels who married and commenced in unions with human

women. who taught them, knowledge, by Him, forbidden.

The unchained three married, but fathered not Nephilim; “We are the last Watchers,

We watch still. And intervene. To Him, we still, do answer.

To wit, while 397 of the fallen, lusted after, married, and procreated Nephilim, three,

albeit fallen, revealed to man knowledge, not forbidden.

Holy Scriptures, Rick’s tome regarding individual purposes, Tony’s, on changes in

behavior and Mandela’s case augur, we again, may act akin.

This last soliloquy of Hamlet, nominally from Kim Don and Arthur, is for evolution:

Make man less petty and more open-mindedly, egalitarian.


The planet’s richest tongue (by word count), owes its wealth to its liberal borrowing,

from other languages, and history’s mystical, timing.

English is the Earth’s second, lingua franca. Now spoken globally, its rich vocabulary

is at home in song, psalm, prose, tweet and, poetry.

It may be there are more English-speaking Chinese, than Americans. More Chinese

than Americans may discern, a twit, from a tweet.

Tweet Is often understood; but twit? Not often. Twits are taunts. To twit is to titter

or taunt. Why then Twitter, and not, Tweeter?

Alternatively, a twit is a silly, annoying, person, or fool. How appropriate that a twit,

tweets on Twitter; a fool fools, sans wit, albeit.

Why Twitter and not Tweeter, albeit an intriguing riddle, is not the point, in debate.

The point is THE twit that’ been a tweeter of late.

The twit that tweets promises that if he dupes US, for the American people, a wall,

he’ll build, women, he’ll cherish and books he’ll sell.


Indeed what is humorous may be gravely serious; to wit, an ugly-campaigner-in-chief

who aimed to be President, now is, the Commander-in-Chief.

What once seemed so preposterous as to be laughable, now is, no laughing matter;

that notwithstanding his tweets, and his golden showers.

But fear not, US, of America; for the mutant mouth that is the Donny’s outstanding

feature promises that, sooner, or later, him, we’ll be impeaching.

Earthlings: Humor Art. Imagine that ye, are brothers. And, imagine that on Twitter,

Arthur, Kim and Donald John Trump, have all done gone, atwitter.

The three champion alchemical congruency of thought; as when Space Laboratory

crews wave to us and we wave to them, in orbit, in outer space.

Following is history past and present and the poetic prophesies of dimwitted Arthur

Everman. It petitions ye to seek, alternative facts, and answers.


North and South Korea. Pakistan and India. Iran and Israel. Three vexing, problems.

Now, what? For two brothers of Art, a planet, threaten.

Three problems. Two brothers. One story. A tiny subplot of the one story, His story,

is man’s history. Tiny subplots of creation are ye tiny ye.

Seemingly surreally, Donny is the recently elected President, of US. Kim, is the veteran.

Prez of the DPRK; Art, 40 years drunken, his own barman.

Don has made it very clear that he’ll deal with Kim, with or without, China’s Xi,’s help.

Don will war without help. He needs but enemy, not, help.

If Xi’s China is not going to solve North Korea, we will, says he. And it shall be as easy

as ABC. “Believe me,” he says. “No one else can. Only me.”

If Xi does help, that shall be good for China, Don has said; if Xi doesn’t, that won’t be

good for anybody. Simplifying things, is twitter-diplomacy.

North and South Korea. Pakistan and India. Iran and Israel. Three vexing, problems.

Enter three brothers megalomaniacal, with three quill pens.


Three clashes of countries. Three problems. Three opportunities. Kim, Don and Art

act out in this ‘live’ subplot of history, Art’s story, of history.

History is His story. Education’s alchemy. Hindsight’s 20-20. There’s wisdom, in irony.

Behavior modification’s not limited to just individuals only.

Dreaming of what is, what was and what may be, the learned literati muse on ontology;

like luminaries like Aristotle, Milton, Locke, and Socrates,

Like too, like Shakespeare, in Manchester’s land. and eastern peers, Lao-zi, Kong-fu-zi,

Muhammad and Gandhi. They, all see. Hindsight is 20-20.

And they see folly; their own of course, but far more importantly, they see humanity’s

folly. And they fear they see, a still-born, twitter-diplomacy.

Say what? A still-born, twitter-diplomacy? And Don’s to blame? Sad; twitter-diplomacy

could have been a contender. It could have been somebody.


A synchronicity of events, pursuant to His grand plan, has brought three brothers grim,

Don, Art and the Kim, to do, what’s been bidden by Him.


“Tweet blog and write, Kim, Don and Art in the ‘twitterese’, I, Penemue, the last Watcher,

taught ye; an Esperanto-like hope, an Esperanto-like prayer.”

Twitterese came easy to Art. Administration came easiest to Kim. Spelling was Donny’s

forte.  Penemue, organized his Liberation Force, accordingly.

To attend to national affairs of state Kim and Don ceded to their weakling brother Arthur

the penning of epigrams. Kim sees to invites; Don to humor.

To wit, Kim now tweets albeit vicariously, to world leaders as Xi Jinping, and Vlad Putin

Reactionary others look on, entranced, in rapt, anticipation.

Pithy statements.  One hundred forty characters.  And in an ode and last hurrah to poetry

to wisdom and to peace, a final plea. Please. Heed my plea!.

This last of my soliloquies, this filibuster of tragi-comic, so to speak, Herculean, epic poetry;

is a ‘last call’ for alternative facts and an alternative, history.

This last soliloquy of Hamlet, nominally from Kim, Don and Arthur, is intended to make man

less narrow-minded and more open-minded and egalitarian.

Alternative facts. And an alternative history. To be or not to be? To that end, alternatively,

consider, another paradigm. Hail humanity, not sovereignty.


To be or not to be? That is for humanity a threshold question. For high-technology algorithms,

we dead poets agree, may well counter, authoritarianism.

It is Scripture (the Testaments, Qu’ran, the Book of Mormon, et. cetera), wherein lives wisdom,

and the uncommonly common, and ubiquitous, Rules, Golden.

The very cross-cultural commonness of Golden Rules, evidences, their importance. This repair

manual is in the spirit of that significance. We dead poets, care.

Is to be or not to be, ever to be, the question? Hamlet’s soliloquies were about nobility, tragedy

and comedy. The poets’ soliloquies herein, may be, revelatory.

The children of Lord Allah/God/Jehovah/Yahweh are our blood brothers and sisters before Him,

it mattering not, our religion, our nationality, nor our tribe to Him.

Arthur’s poetry acculturates! For the acculturation of man is but the modification of his behavior

as applicable to group behaviors, as it is to individual behavior.

Theoretically, behavior modification is not limited to individuals only; certainly, our communities

too are subject to it as well. Why not test then, Arthur’s theory?


That is to say, behavior mod’s not limited just to individuals; communities too, are subject; to it.

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