MAYDAY 1700: SUNDAY, JUNE 14, 2020

Earthlings: Humor Art. Imagine that ye are all brothers and that on the internet’s Twitter, Art, Kim and I,

George Bernard Shaw once wrote, “Some see the world as it is and ask, “Why?” I see the world as it ought to

be and ask, why not?” We’d do well to emulate that philosophy as seemingly, it is more our learned conduct and less our nature, is with me, ruling, finally.

The greatest impediment to a revolutionarily positive and evolutionarily sustainable progress, born of a collectively  sound, wisdom.

The imperative of humanity
going forward: to will ‘nationals’ to be card-carrying … global citizens.

Donald John Trump, have all done gone, atwitter. What follows is history past and present of my

real and fake news and a prophesy, some say, of my dimwitted brother Art, suggesting, alternatives, atwitter.

Imagine when on June 15 of 2015, upon descending a stairway, as if floating down on air, from up there,

that very evening three anthropological cousins, if not, sibling brothers began dreaming, together.

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

Not hard to imagine; the three, do indeed, tweet on twitter; but the two brighter brothers’ world view seems not as prescient as that of their dimwit, brother.

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 our aspirations, human.

Imagine then Victorian soirees spent in dreamy reveries with history’s visionaries, nightly connecting; eating, drinking and crafting, their epigrammatic poetry.

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

To wit Kim now tweets albeit vicariously, to such world leaders as Xi Jinping and Vlad Putin with like-minded, reactionary others, looking on, in rapt, anticipation.

Across Earth, Kim’s brother Donny, near incredibly, is now the President of US. He fancies himself, next to the Bible’s authors, the best-selling author in history.

Never mind that ‘The Art of the Deal’ was a book, actually written, by a ghost, really living, in anonymity; a surreal legal fiction, that most earthly, ghostwriting.

Now, it happened that Penemue (a Watcher Angel, fallen), for his God-damned salvation’s sake, googled for weaklings and proposed, for them, their salvations.

He googled too for great poets to advise our antiheroes on what to do for with the children of the nations with an algorithm plentiful, on Twitter.

“Tweet blog and pen algorithmically, said Penemue to the brothers three. Alchemically, turn tweets to epigrams to transformational, BUT pacific, poetry.”

Tweet blog and pen algorithmically, alchemical, poetry had commissioned The Watcher Penemue to the three decidedly, megalomaniacal brothers.

Tweet blog and pen, Kim Don and Art, in the ‘twitterese’ that I myself shall teach ye — an Esperanto-like hope — an Esperanto-like … prayer.

So 3 brothers write on 3 levels; 280 character epigrammatic tweets metamorphose into 1960 word blog posts toward a compendium book; a poor man’s, publicity.

Twitterese came easiest to Art. Administration came easiest to Kim. Spelling — and chaos — Donny’s forte. And so Pen 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 chaos.

But enough for the moment, about us; for this is about the more generic ‘us’ i.e. humanity and less, publicity, for news hounds, Kim, and the Donny  Chaos.

And now, London; and brother Kim, so previously unsure about whom to honor, the west’s Willy or the East’s Rumi now knew; it’d be, England’s best, first.

Time, as always, being of the essence, Kim Jong promptly invited that evening’s guest poet William Shakespeare, to the podium, to address, the poets, first.

[From offstage, takes the podium]

Thanks Penemue (hereinafter Pen). And thanks too to the poets and artists of the nations. We are gathered here regarding the very fate, of those nations.

Not that the fate of the cosmos and its non-earthling inhabitants isn’t important. It is and they are. But we’ll get to them later. First, the nation-lands.

Nations are the constructs by which men, in vain, attempt to govern themselves, a natural evolution from nuclear families, clans and tribes, aboriginal.

Pangaea now numbers 196 nations (not including Taiwan, and Puerto Rico), 4200 religions, and 6500 languages; verily, ye must evolve to a single nation.

English is but Mother Earth’s second lingua franca. Its rich vocabulary rhymes quite easily and feels at home in song, psalm, prose and of course, poetry.

English isn’t jus for Englishmen, any more. But no one language can end all the babbling. English’s Twitter, Art is betting, may languages, be connecting.

Why poetically? Easy; while poetry’s harder to compose than prose; it’s elegantly emotive than one may ever aspire to be … prosaically.

Of earthly forms of written expression most like (Art imagines), heavenly hymns, etween chapter and verse ’tis verse that’s most favored by Him.

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! Heed Penemue: The one and only Watcher of the original 400 left to do 

(what eons ago), he was commissioned by Another … to do. 

Poetry, the metaphysical language of love may Earth’s humanity, yet save. Only poetry, of the written forms, evokes and emotes, sufficiently.

Would that successful message communication be found to be proportional, inversely to length and yet still be, alchemically emotive, poetry? 

Oh, for a mathematical expression relating successful message communication inversely with length, no matter the language, of communication? And then it struck me

with all the force of a truckload of revelations! It’s ‘s very algorithm, that makes spacing so pleasing … visually! 

Incredibly, as if stricken in some same place anew, again and again; so was poor Arty; stricken by implications,

extraordinarily, revelatory. For if you regard uniformly straight margins as useful if not sexy, then ‘epigramming’ may become, almost incredibly … the next big thing. 

Twitter: Markets are trending toward simplicity, mobility, brevity and creativity. Why not then 280 character stories, epigrammatically AN ATLAS … POETIC, aka, The Wine and Cheese Miracles. 

AN ATLAS … POETIC is a poetic love letter to every inhabitant of Earth. It dovetails cosmic, geological and socio-anthropological history (politics) with socio-political current events (politics) to save us from ourselves, at least temporarily, by yet even more politics.

AN ATLAS … POETIC’s subject matters are vital. Its length, expected to come in at less than 300 pages, is remarkably brief. The format it adopts is a Roll Call of the Nations.

In verse, it compellingly addresses, and is intended to appeal to, a global audience.The targeted audience is, therefore, as broad as can be. Each leader of the nations is (in verse) addressed by a single individual of that leader’s nation. A UN free (to delegates) book distribution is anticipated. It’s part of the marketing plan. 

Human institutions are roasted; deservedly so. They feed us lies. We gorge ourselves on them. AN ATLAS … POETIC’s aim is to be a clarion call. Grave dangers confront us. It urges that we proactively act and not just sheepishly await, our fates. 

Pragmatic counter-measures are merely a matter of alchemical congruency of thought (the new alchemy), as when, on the proposed GCD (Global Citizenship Day), an international Space Lab Crew waves to us from orbit, and we, wave back. 

Finally, it’s got a colorful cast of characters, all the better to make a motion picture with, for kids of all ages. Animal Planet with an Attitude, anyone? 

We may yet be true to principles we so overwhelmingly espouse, but by our actions, omissions to act and skillful lip-service, so routinely negate. That’s long been pandemic, but now that voodoo economics are back in vogue, houses of cards teeter.

It’s the contagious enthusiasm of our kids via that yet somewhat new medium, the internet, that may infect the rest of us and somehow save the world. Would that it does. The irrepressible enthusiasm of kids is the active ingredient of Wannabes’ alchemic elixir.

The success of the several facets of the enterprise, book, movie, website and the global cooperative depends most on those standing to inherit a mortally wounded planet. That the groundswell’s point of origin may be Puerto Rico is a sumptuously delicious irony for the author.

The entire enterprise, as outlined within the manuscript as a whole, envisions a pluralistic war on ignorance. Such a war might turn the tide against lesser included wars, against, for example, terrorism, drugs, hunger, poverty and even indeed, slavery. 

It’s a war wherein the enemy’s battle plan has us divided into isolated pockets, each, surrounded. The prognosis; bleakly near hopeless. It’s a war that would have calmer heads prevail. It’s a war we seemingly don’t even know we’re fighting. 

The pragmatic alternative going forward; a purposeful alteration of our course, born simply of a collective will to do. Surreally … this really is … a no brainer. Sincerely, Arthur Everman. 

There is a vast potential, not in plain sight, but rather, hidden in the cracks of walls that have never failed to imprison us too. (Wo)man’s children may be just the open minds mankind needs, to see, persuasive value, in poetry. Leave it to, the children.


Wisdom. It’s as if imbedded in poetry. And its power comes from its content. And from its cadence. Content. And cadence. The words, Penemue (Pen), The Watcher, told man made for powerful words of beauty. Persuasion, not from a sword but rather, from a Pen.

Dualities. Matter. Anti-matter. Light. Darkness. Good. Evil. Truth. And on misguided, Urantia, ubiquitous, lies. Prevarications, pandemic. And ironic.On convening sessions at the U.N. No confidence, motions. But it’s not, happening. A truth … sardonic.Masters of the universe (not), universally, ruling.For, evolutionary, are ye. Not crowning creations, but rather, developing, beings. Urantia’s perennial lying, acts like a brake. Against, further evolving. To make of man, a footnote in annals, universal.Art is calling upon visionaries. Critics, of the sovereignties. Fanatics, of brotherhood. But brotherhood, not, internecine. Not within tribes of men.Jews, Christians and Muslims. Brotherhood, rather, everywhere, on Urantia’s surface, between, all humans.
Calling on all critics of the sovereignty, paradigm. Fanatics, of brotherhood. But brotherhood, not, internecine. Not limited, that is, to tribes of men, Jewish, Christian and Muslim. But brotherhood, rather, everywhere, on the planet and between, all men.

Peace and prosperity. And brotherhood between all men. Everywhere, on the planet. Mark, Art’s words. Kim and Don need Nobels. Like nobles, nobility,need. Nothing but nothing is impossible, for two men, in love, so deeply.Peace and prosperity. And brotherhood between all men. Everywhere on the planet. Mark, Art’s words. Kim and Don need, Nobels. Like nobles, nobility,need. Nothing is impossible for two men so deeply in love and needing to stay out of jail … indefinitely.Kim and Don need Nobels. Like nobles, nobility, need. After loving The Don, Kim can never love another. The Don, in turn says that Kim is his first, truly,true love. Nothing is impossible for two men deeply in love and needing to avoid jail, indefinitely.To avoid jail, indefinitely. And to be true, to one another, The Kim and The Don, need their Nobels. They need them like nobles, their nobilities,need. But nobility takes a back seat to expediency when prison’s, in issue. Like for the lovers, Kimmy … and Donny. For passes from indefinite detention, The Kim and The Don, need, their Nobels. To avoid jail-time. And, oh yeah, be true … to one another. Noble blessings bestowed, the Russian Vladimir and the ChineseXi!are rigging, the 2018, Peace Prize, Nobel. 

Rigging is a strong word. Skewing, perhaps, being the better word to characterize the nature of the Russian and Chinese interventions, in Nobel, affairs. Interventions impacting upon an Academy’s December presentation of 2018’s, noble, Peace Prize, Nobel.

via EARTHLINGS: HUMOR ARTHUR — The Wine and Cheese Miracles

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s