“To the Kim-Don Plan I am re-committing. Don, in yet another slip of his lips has already informed the media, that, we actually have, a good relationship. Back me, Kim, already.”
“My condition, like your kidney ailment, is a state … secret. My lips are slipping. Slipping too are a number of lesser (my brain), organs. To the Kim-Don Plan, I am re-committing.”
“Please believe me, my brothers. I meant not to say, what I, in fact, said. But, just joking, was I. I love all of my brother countrymen, equally. It’s just that, my lips … are slipping.”
On Luna (where only truth is spoken), Don addressed his faux pas, of yesterday. “Believe I’d better have these (pointing, at his lips), surgically, removed.” Please … in me … believe.
12-21-12. Three electric strikes. Nightly ever since, brothers with visionaries … on Luna, soiree. Luna. “She’s a looker, I’ll bet,” he said, when told, he would be, at night, on Luna.
Making, of friends … foes. Expert antagonists are Kim and Don, Art’s two, megamaniacal, brothers. Art the protagonist is purposely, inexpert; once, having been slavish to alcohol.
Everybody wants to be leading. No one wants to be following. So, all follow, the primrose path; the path of least resistance, to leading, not following. And making of friends … foes.
Sans … Tsars, royal. Ditto, China and Xi. Everybody wants to be leading …. No following. So, all follow, the primrose path; the path, of least, resistance … to leading, not, following.
Urantia’s global governors, the leaders, of nations, lie for a living. To wit, KGB-Vlad; Wily, and bent on returning Russia, to its missing, prominence. Recalling … Russian hegemony.
Urantia’s global governors, the leaders of sundry, nations, lie, for a living. Praising Kim, suddenly is Vlad, as if dumping Don … for Kim’s loving. He is KGB, wily … and returning,
his nation to a prominence recalling Tsarist Russia. To Tsarist Russia, he’d take Russians. It’s not just Vlad. China’s Xi, too. UN veto-wielders, especially, place, first … their nations.
Vladimir’s opinion, on Don’s war, of wits, with Kim: Kim’s ‘won this match’ on weapons, nuclear. Vlad’s characterization of the Kim, as an educated man and a mature politician,
makes Art think he’s dumping Don, for Kim. And, that Vlad knows more, than he lets on; says Kim can hit anything. How would Vlad know … for Kim’s ICBMs, reentry is, a given?
Vlad’s lauding Kim. He’s dumping Don, for Kim. And Vlad knows more, than he, lets on; says Kim can strike anything. How knows he, that for Kim’s ICBMs, reentries, are given?
STREAMS OF CONSCIOUSNESS
On writing a stream of consciousness; when, “what’s happening,” is not, just … one thing, but, inconceivably … many. On writing a stream of consciousness, in a ball of confusion.
On connections invisible, between people, places … and things. And their … happenings. That we can’t see them and can not otherwise appreciate them affects not … happenings.
Kim. Don. Your names rhyme with kingdom do they not? Why do Arthur’s brothers see in More-Mart greeter Art an enemy and no brother, and respond not, to … his entreaties?
GREAT, BREAKING, NEWS, FROM PRESIDENT, DONNY: No military action by US … taken, while talks between Kim’s DPRK and Moon’s ROK, are ongoing. Take a hint Kim Jong un.
As long as ye keep talking nothing military is … happening. And nephrologists, to teat ye, volunteer even as the ink on tweets, dries, and the tweets become, like butterflies … free,
in the imagination of any child of His, to be coupled like cars on trains, with other tweets, to epic, poetry, pen. For the moment, it yet means not much if ye, each other, don’t tweet.
Tragic, as ever. Comic, more recently. And tragi-comic, still. Until, Kim and Don’s falling bombs, perhaps, some day, leave ye with … a day’s remains for life … for life … sustaining.
Tragic. And comic. And near idyllic, for one, percent. And for the remaining, struggling, ninety-nine, percent, fifty shades of intolerable … tolerating. A tipping point is … tipping.
“It’s synchronicity!” Don exclaimed, upon learning of Kim’s likely, kidney, ailment. Jung’s belief: Just as events may be connected by causality they may be connected by meaning.
Events unconnected by causality but meaning haven’t causal explanation. Admonitions, are they. They are warning we three brothers of Art’s heart, Kim’s kidneys and my brain.
Kidneys may be suffering from Kim’s smoking and drinking. A weak voice is evidencing, a DPRK state secret. Kim’s kidneys … aren’t working. That, a weak voice, is … evidencing.
Ask especially the Teflon, Don. For apt was Ronny’s, “trust but verify.” Let’s find out why every investigation, teflon, seems so attractive … to. Trust but verify. Let’s find out, why?
Trust, but verify, as mantra honors, looking backwards’ going forward. Trust, but verify. Gotta, trust, “trust … but, verify.” cc: @uriminzok @potus In Kim we trust, if we … verify.
Imagine too, an alternative, destiny: Kim is feeling trapped; out of time, with few options. Ditto … Don. War seems certain, absent a military coup, an assassination … or revolution.
On twitter, poetry, alchemy, empathy, and presidents. On connections, invisible, between them. People, places, things. And happenings. Senses fail. Art’s asking, What’s it mean?
KIM-DON POLLS
“Tweet to the wise (wo)men (the wise guys), of Urantia. And copy Arthur’s two, twitter-account-bearing, exceedingly presidential, and heavy hitting, timber bearing … brothers,
to poll ye as to pressing issues having arisen from Arthur’s tweets in answer to brothers’ answers, to one another, and Urantians, internationally. Two invite ye to opine a-twitter.
As if, a Godsend, Heaven, sent. For Arthur’s brothers Kim and Don have assured Arthur, this very evening, in soiree; in the morrow, the two shall, historically, tweet one another.
Upon their departures to Pyongyang and Washington, The Watcher, Penemue, to Arthur, asked, “Do ye know when and why two cave?” He replied, “Not when. Why is … Twitter.”
“No one knows when. And while whys may be many, one reasons, one of them’s Twitter. Between them Twitter-Diplomacy’s their first born baby. The new-born Plan’s, in danger.
And the morrow came. And the morrow went. And so history today, is not … happening. What is happening, is, Liar’s Poker. Only those who shamelessly lie … end up … winning.
“May a lie be a good thing if it belies, another lie, larger,” asks Arthur, of Urantia (Earth)? We; Kim and Don and Art agree on Art’s fictional plan to save from itself Urantian, earth.
LUNA’S LUNATICS
Three soiree, nightly, on Luna. Three, lunatic, brothers. Two brothers, presidential, and a friendly, neighborhood, store, greeter. The view is great and so is the wine, cheese and
philosophy, on, highlands. Don deigns not to acknowledge a brother, not of his druthers, much less, bond him with his GOP, band and his, Trump (nee, Drumpf), brand …. Never!
The philosophy’s grand, on Luna’s highlands. And, grand, too, are wine and cheese, from France, and California. Arthur is stricken, by the irony in Kim and Don’s refusal, to even,
acknowledge their prodigal brother, much less bond, with their bands, and their brands. And then, he’s stricken again by a joyous realization. For, it’s the day after, the Day of, an
Epiphany and that momentous occasion Art would commemorate with a riddle from Art and a joint proclamation (a draft, Kim and Don say) in favor of the Kim-Don Plan, by Art,
written, upon behest of The Watcher Penemue, in the name of Presidents, Kim and Don. Art’s pleased to riddle, “When do, one and one, make three, my brothers, Kim and Don?
And to proclaim (what is yet in draft, Kim and Don say), “FELLOW, URANTIANS: Arthur, Kim and Don do, Urantians, riddle in reply, “Is a lie a good thing, if it belies a lie, larger?”
LUNAR COLLUSION
Men like these two characters, should never become leader, of any nation. Trust in them verily, is very mistaken. And Arthur should know. He has been meeting with them (Kim
and Don) in secret lunar back-channel communications. Three soiree nightly on a moon. On its light side. It’s from Luna, where ye may best contemplate fate. It’s from the moon.
There is strength, in numbers. More on that, later. For now, suffice it to say that Arthur, can make, from 280 characters, not one … but two couplets (4 lines), of poetry, on twitter.
Art’s just a greeter. A mere babe next to his younger brothers, Kim and Don. But Arthur, like babes, brings out the best in men. In brothers and sisters. In fathers and … mothers.
Art greets, professionally: Imagine Kim (@uriminzok) thousands, nay, millions, of tweets from us. Tweet: “Honorable Kim: Greetings, upon New Year’s, from US.” Greet by tweet.
Tweet to them (Don @potus too), greetings, tweeted. No talk of any issues, substantively. Just greetings. If ye tweet, treated at long last may be a long, self mistreated … humanity.
On Presidents Kim and Don. And, believe, it or not, on making … Urantia … great … again. Sure, it’s implausible but believe Art and not, Kim and Don at this stage of Act III … again.
MORONS AND ALIENS 