Tag Archives: irony


Urantians, Earthings … ye sons and daughters of Andon and Fonton and Adam, and Eve:

Open, your hearts.  Open, your minds.  Feed, your spark.  Fear not … to believe.

Fear not to believe ….  Nor to reconsider beliefs in the light of new, evidence.  For Adam

and Eves’ decisions, so regrettable, reveal, upon reconsideration, new, lessons.

Republicans:  Don’t look now, but Don has effectively destroyed … your Grand, Old Party.

Arthur looks for it to become the conservative wing, of the Democratic … Party.

On the Donald’s decision for more Afghanistan troops. It’s a ruse; for know-nothing Don,

it’s all about the perception of winning, or not losing … but not ever … wisdom.


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

Now, what?  For two soulless brothers of Art, the planet of Urantia … threaten.


Three problems.  Two brothers.  One story.  And tiny subplots of the one story, His story,

is man’s history.  Tiny subplots of His creation are ye … near infinitely, tiny ye.

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

President of the DPRK; Art, once, 40 years drunken … his own, frugal, barman.

Don has made it, crystal clear:  He shall deal with Kim with, or without, China’s Xi’s, help.

Don shall war against Kim, without help.  He needs but enemies, not any help.

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

as ABC.  Believe me, no one else can.  Only me.  Nobody else can ….  Only, me.

If Xi helps, that shall be good for China, Don has said.  If Xi does not, then, that won’t be

good for anybody.  Simplifying, and complicating things is … twitter-diplomacy.

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

Enter the three brothers, madly, megalomaniacal with their … 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’s 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. 


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. 

The Urantia Book, aka The Urantia Papers or The Fifth Epochal Revelation; its authors or

author unknown have made of it a mystery, magnificently like, no other, ever.


The acquisition of wisdom.  And, sharing it. On Urantia, soulless are, Kim … and the Don.

But in imaginations, where we know no fear, renew the souls, of Kim and Don.

Laughter ensued.  Art laughed.  The dead laughed.  And laughing too were Don and Kim.

Shared, laughter.  A good, sign.  Of shared, community.  Of a shared … wisdom.

Art, blushed. The assembled poets, laughed. Then Art replied, “Desperate times do verily

call for desperate measures, my dear, fictional Prince of Denmark, my Hammy.”

“May your tweets be spammy.”  Funny guy, that Hamlet, the Prince Regent, of Denmark.

A tragi-comic, ironic … character.  A perfect, master, of ceremonies … to remark.

Ham (Hamlet) hammed it up on Arthur, last night.  At last evening’s daily soiree, said he,

“Desperate times call for desperate measures.  May your tweets be, ‘spammy’.”

Way too many, enemies, hath the Donny.  To their number, add Bannon … the barbarian.

Lips and mouth are his own worst enemy.  Parts, parted from, the soul, of Don.

Don, having scorched the earth under every one of his enemies, even of friends, enemies

he makes.  He’s in his element, among enemies.  Shall they become, too many?

Blacks.  Whites.  Jews.  Hindus.  Muslims.  Russians.  Puerto Ricans.  Americans.  Koreans.

Chinese.  Vietnamese.  And lots of Christians.  Lots and lots of enemies, has he.

Don’s USS John S. McCain, is leak-proof. Don’s battle plan calls for a war with Kim to

prevent war with Kim, to win!


Pray tell.  How many revelations, to an epiphany?  Feel not threatened if truth, ye know.

For there is more.  There is vastly so much, much more ye do need … to know.

Arthur Everman (not his real, name), along with all the poets, who’ve ever lived, nightly

show, at dreamy soirees, along too … with Kim … and a desperate … Donny.

Children!  Tweet Don @potus.  Tweet Kim @uriminzok.  Bring pressure, against vile hate

… to bear.  Crash, a server. cc: @google @facebook @macfound @billgates

Imagine.  What if Urantia’s (Earth’s) children were moved to tweet … to Don and to Kim?

Imagine.  Kids, upping the ante, on the twitter diplomacy of Don and of Kim.

This historically momentous decision, shall ultimately be made, not by Don, but, rather,

by Kim.  A  momentous decision, for all.  So, why not tweet them, on twitter?

Five, Christmas wishes … Kim, is wishing for:  Guarantees, of the Kim dynasty’s security,

ICBMs, troop and sanction withdrawals, and an end to a war, Korean, finally.

Peter’s, bitter, lesson:  If you tell lies lightly, people will eventually, stop … believing you.

Then when you unexpectedly tell the truth, as expected, no one believes you.

Don’s bitter lesson:  If you forever tell lies, people eventually shall stop … believing you.

Then when you do tell the truth, it’ll be too late.  For they shan’t, believe you.

Peter’s lesson is Don’s too:  If you forever tell lies people will forever stop believing you.

Then, when belatedly, you tell the truth, in all the world no one, believes you.

In response, to recklessly irresponsible conduct, and speech, by my less than brotherly,

brothers, I … Arthur Everman … have renamed … ‘Soliloquies’ … ‘Ontologies’.

Kim.  Don.  How many revelations, to epiphanies?  It is threatening, to one who ‘knows’

the truth, to be told by any person, that there are, volumes more … to know.


How many revelations to an epiphany?  Read the UB.  Don’t feel threatened if you know

the truth, to be told that there is more … so much … much more … to know.

The irony is killing me.  Don, as smart as he allegedly is, reads not.  He has learned, not,

lessons, even the simple, moral lesson, Sergei’s, Peter and the Wolf, has got.

Don drew a red line, promising that, should Kim threaten, again, America … then Don’s

response would be … fire and fury.  Mere hours later, Kim threatened Guam.

Is Don’s mirroring of Kim’s florid, over-the-top threatening, a critical error?  Or is Don’s

presidential timber showing?  He drew a red line.  Now Guam, is threatened.

Don says, “North Korea had best not make, any more threats, to the United States,” or,

face, “fire, and fury.”   Is Don’s mirroring of Kim’s threats a … rookie … error?

Kim and Don.  Two rookie presidents taking their places, at this crossroads, of history.

Two fools with poor impulse control are their countries’ nuclear authorities.

Unlawful orders, must not, be obeyed.  Don is now, desperate, needing, more than ever,

a win.  Any, win.  Kim, in his view, would do superbly.  For Don, it is now, or never.

Rex.  John.  HR, McMaster:  Remember all ye, presidential, men.  Solemn oaths of honor,

ever are to the Constitution.  Ye must disobey, from Don … any, unlawful … orders.

Unlawful orders issued by a boorishly, thoughtless and soulless, president, are null and

void.  And convince him, by logic, or leak, or otherwise, to ‘play’ deaf … and dumb.

The vision of Don’s generals:  To reign Don in, do, as Congress is doing … increasingly.

Effectively, ignore him.  Humor, him, surely.  But by all means, ignore … him.

Don, via Rex, has, even before any talks have commenced, undermined, the American,

position.  Rank amateurs, are Don and Rex.  And buffers, generals, American.

The South Korean government has been hesitant, on intervening, against leaflet-laden

balloon launches due to concerns about restrictions on freedom of expression.

The official stance of both the South and North Korean governments has been banning

leaflet-laden, balloon drops, and also, cross-border loudspeaker, broadcasting.

Rex, Don’s surrogate, assures Kim; Don, does not want, regime, change.  A, big, fat, lie!

One of Donny’s plans is to blanket the DPRK with propaganda leaflets, by and by.

Big, fat, lies.  They have been the consequence, of the Donald Effect, on Rex, and, on all

the president’s (wo)men.  For oh, what a wicked web, he weaves between, us all.

The megalomaniacs Kim and Don, soulless, as a consequence of a barter with the devil,

for riches and for power, threaten one another, the very personifications … of evil.

Crazy is, as crazy does.  That is to say, everybody is crazy.  And, hypocritical.  And, a liar.

Some, like the megalomaniacs Kim and Don, are more skillful, than most, others.

‘Kims and Dons and their kin’ being, the menagerie of iconic sovereigns which one, does

remind; for, respecting kings, presidents, and ministers, crazy is … as crazy does.

Agreeing with Arthur, Hamlet (hereinafter, Ham), forever ham, does well know:  Rumps

here today may well be gone, come today’s … tomorrows. cc:  @realdonaldtrump

Simple.  Fun.  And important.  Because children, if you don’t do it for yourselves, no one

will do it for you.  It’d be crazy to let Kims and Dons and kin, decide for everyone.

Children:  If you don’t do this for yourselves, no one will do it for you.  You are, of Earth,

its honey and its salt.  Of Earth are ye legatees, the last guard, guardians, of Earth.


Don’s game is weak.  His resume is fake.  His agenda’s effete.  His lies, nations, threaten.

Children!  Tweet, epigrammatic poetry, to Don, and Kim.  Tweet, truth … to them.


The soulless brothers, Kim and Don, the presidents of rival nations, threaten, the Earth.

Only Arthur, of the three brothers, has a soul.  Only Arthur … can save … the Earth.

Don:  Follow Art.  And send a conciliatory tweet to your counterpart (and your brother),

President Kim, and, the North Korean, people.  cc: @uriminzok @potus @m_err

Kim:  Follow Art.  Send messages to your counterpart and to benefactors, in the region.

And, across seas, to Americans.  cc: @potus @putinrf @xijingping @moonjaein_

No one knows one better than does one’s brother.  So it is with Kim, Don … and Arthur.

So, along with Kim and Don, at Pyongyang village must be along also … Arthur.

Kim @uriminzok can hit most of @potus Don’s US.  Washington says US “done talking

about Kim.”  Time to talk about talking. @PutinRF @moonjaein_ @xijingping


For time beings, for Urantia, happy endings.  Ye have been from a homo sapiens sapiens

saved.  Art won, wings.  His brothers got two souls back, from Lucifer’s … Satan.

Kim, Don and Art.  Three, long gone.  But they’ve left ye lasting legacies.  Witness threes.

Witness, the threes, twos, and ones.  Of trichotomies, dichotomies … and unities.

Witness numbers and letters.  Aristotle’s, “Number is everything.” And my Emily’s letter

to worlds.  Witness Another’s wisdom in Art’s verse.  Witness Him … The Father.

Witness Arthur Everman’s commission THE universal mission impossible.  And witness

the verse.  Poetry, from elsewhere, in the universes, local, or grand.  …  Witness,

too, Art’s Saul-to-Paul-like transformation.  By lightning stricken, an illumed Arthur,

with quill pen analogs penned an analog, of his beloved Emily’s … lovely letters.

To the nations’ (wo)men via their legatee children Art has written.  ‘SOLILOQUIES’ is an

algorithm.  A how-to, alchemic, toward behavior, modification, part, of his plan.

Towards acculturation’s promise, of peace, and prosperity, Twitter’s, Twitter-diplomacy.

Epigrammatic, couplet tweets, neuro-scientific.  Revolutionarily, pacific, poetry.


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

we dead poets agree, may well counter, authoritarianism.

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

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

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

Behavior modification works well, in individuals. Why then not for all (wo)men?


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 reaction to Urantian conflict, Madiba’s reconciliation.  Add poetry & 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 in the hope that ye children write too.  To ne’er again be ruled, by knaves.


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 re 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 infinite views.

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.


Arthur Everman’s heaven-sent, idea:  Deal, Don, Kim, in; alternatively; Kim: Deal,

Don in. To do other than to follow the one who follows you would be a breach of

etiquette, on Twitter.

Almost, incredibly

Urantia is and has been as if on the stage, of the most captivating and unprecedentedly

entertaining plays in all of Paradise’s universes. Nebadon’s Urantia, has been,

infamously, entertaining.

Photo-poetry is fledgling.  Yet, it shall be Urantia’s (Earth’s) humanity’s, most disarming

weapon against the weapons of war of Don and Kim.  Far mightier than a sword is a …


Earthlings: I, Hamlet, the fool, riddle ye this one: “What questions, answer? Depends. It

depends on how the question is read. Consider another. “What will Kim do if tweeted to, by the Don?

Don.  Tweet to Kim.  Follow him.  If you do, Kim will tweet to, and follow you, too.  And mark too, Art’s words. cc:  @uriminzok @moonjaein_ @xijingping @abeshinzo @putinrf @too

“Under circumstances, instant, what might Kim do if Don tweets to, and therein proposes to him prescient plans to disarm, to unify and to remedy, too.


Kim threatens Don with nuclear annihilation. Don pressures Kim with sanctions. BUT, DON, WHY NOT TWEET, DIRECTLY, TO KIM? DEAL WITH KIM. MAN, TO MAN.

Why not, indeed? Particularly now, that Don has, perhaps, without consulting with anyone, banned transgender (wo)men, from serving in the military, bar, no one.

Kim.  Don.  Save face.  Both of you.  Tweet to your brother.  He too, likely, will tweet to you. @uriminzok @moonjaein_ @xijingping @abeshinzo @putinrf @un @you


Don. Tweet to Kim. Follow him. Mark Art’s words. If you do, Kim will tweet to and follow you. @uriminzok @moonjaein_ @xijingping @abeshinzo @putinrf @un @you

Don.  A/k/a @potus @realdonaldtrump.  Just say, “Kim.  Let’s sit down and talk.  Just you

and me.  Let us make, deals.  A model for India, Pakistan, Muslim and Jew.

I know, Don.  You’re shy.  But, don’t worry.  Like health care, and all things, presidential,

it’ll be easy.  It is what it is.  Your tweets are, and or make, policy, national.

Don.  Tweet to Kim.  If you tweet to him and follow him, Kim will tweet to, and follow you.

@uriminzok @moonjaein_ @xijingping @PutinRF @you


Don.  Tweet to Kim.  If you tweet to him and follow him Kim will tweet to and follow you.

@uriminzok @moonjaein_ @xijingping @PutinRF @un @you

Donny.  Break the ice.  Tweet to Kim.  An instant distraction from Russia.  And Don, if you

do, tweet to and follow him, Kim, very likely will tweet to, and follow, you.

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 man’s knowledge, of greatest value is to know of 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.  Epic, poetry.  A cosmological and anthropological, history.  A subplot, tiny.

Not science fiction.  Nonfiction.  But one, 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.

@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



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 (wo)men and undead … public figures; the heroines and heroes, of ‘ONTOLOGIES’

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

The lines blur between ONTOLOGIES’ 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.


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?

Theoretically, behavior mod  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.


The Urantia Book, aka The Urantia Papers or The Fifth Epochal Revelation; its authors or

author unknown have made of it a mystery, magnificently like, no other, ever.


To Indians and Pakistanis: On the Labels that Rend Divisively and Humanity’s … End

Prisoners for life; so are we all in our respective paradigm matrices. Only
but illusorily free are we not hemmed in by razor wire, tall walls and bars … irony.
It has been written that the truth shall set us free; but His truth is not limited to one
people … much less … any one individual … save One.

A fictional/nonfictional history of the world, AN ATLAS, POETIC has been written
(albeit, perhaps, in vain), because our Creator foreordained … that it be … written.
Predestination; so completely at odds with our illusion of free will … is consistent
with a Creator knowing the numbers of hairs on heads, from moment to moment.

Predestination; historically speaking, a radical, and to many, a heretical doctrine,
pointedly … NOT … generally accepted … doctrine.
Prisoners for life; but we’re our own jailers and we have keys to our cells, in hand.
Perhaps God inspired the Scriptures, cross-culturally … so we might understand.

It is of the utmost importance that His children aspire and struggle to overcome
the adversities … inherent to life … after The Fall … from His Kingdom.
Time and change; one, a fourth dimension, the other, a dimensionless
ebb and flow; both … purposeful dimensions … but formless.

Once upon times, a dreamy One asked, in dreamy slumbers, one (wo)man
from every land to pen a poem to … every nation.
The compendium is “AN ATLAS … POETIC”…. It languishes, in
the memory of Art Everman’s laptop … read by no one … but … Everman.

AN ATLAS, POETIC… a compendium … of heartfelt pleas,
for Mandela-Tutu-like, global truth and reconciliation, please.
In this surreal nonfiction, what needs to be read by every human (every man,
woman and child on the planet), has been read only by … Arthur … Everman.

In this surreal nonfiction, AN ATLAS … POETIC … is poetry … about history,
sociology and eschatology; irony in verse for the nations and the territories;
irony in history and prophesy in verse for nations and territories; a call to action;
to become not Indian, Pakistani, American, or Russian but rather … Bohemian.

An existential riddle: Spiritualities diverse aside, isn’t our common denominator
actually our humanity and not … surreally … any base … nationality?
In this surreal nonfiction … what is the common thread in the fabric
for His creation? Isn’t it the totality … of His creation … cosmic?

Diverse spiritualities aside, the quintessence of unfathomability
is His purpose and our purpose.
But were we to abnegate nationality and exalt humanity,
wouldn’t we accomplish … His purpose?

#Twitterfiction: Come to @chachomanopapa on Twitter and a surreal analog,
chachomanopapa.wordpress.com. Poetry on history, from tweets and a blog.
Read excerpts from AN ATLAS … POETIC of India and Pakistan and a prologue
of what ne’er shall be written by any man … humanity’s … epilogue.

Irony, the International Criminal Court and Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi (VI)

150 Sunni Muslims unearthed in mass grave; yet another crime against humanity
by the Islamic State … and its ‘Caliph’ … Abu Bakr … al-Baghdadi.

The ‘Caliph’ can’t kill fast enough to suit himself. Thankfully, he’s also sufficiently
brazen enough to be well on his way … to convicting himself … ironically.

For would it not be ironic if the Islamic State’s very own video postings are to be
evidence in the International Criminal Court … against … al-Baghdadi.

Verily, it would be supremely ironic if the Islamic State’s very own video postings
were to be used … as evidence … in an ICC proceeding.

For normally, in any ICC investigatory proceeding of crimes against humanity
probative evidence is less than enough to promise … a verdict of “guilty”.

But here, a sociopath on a par already with the worst sociopaths in world history,
provides evidence against himself … most fortuitously.

Most fortuitously, that is, for us; stupidly, for him and his ilk. And how much more
ironic might this be … were an outcome to be … AN END TO WAR!

An end to war …. How on Earth might that be? It may be when I treat thee
as I would be treated … by thee.

Irony, the International Criminal Court and Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi

150 Sunni Muslims unearthed in mass grave; yet another crime against humanity
by the Islamic State … and its ‘Caliph’ … Abu Bakr … al-Baghdadi.

The ‘Caliph’ can’t kill fast enough to suit himself. Thankfully, he’s also sufficiently
brazen enough to be well on his way … to convicting himself … ironically.

For would it not be ironic if the Islamic State’s very own video postings are to be
evidence in the International Criminal Court … against … al-Baghdadi.


Time and change; one, a fourth dimension, the other, a dimensionless
ebb and flow; both, in #twitterfiction, purposeful … but formless.

Once upon a time, in #twitterfiction, a dreamy being asked, in a dream, one
(wo)man from every land to pen a poem to … every nation.

The compendium (in #twitterfiction, “AN ATLAS … POETIC”), languishes, in
the memory of Art Everman’s laptop, read by no one … but Everman.

In #twitterfiction, AN ATLAS … POETIC; a compendium of heartfelt pleas,
for Mandela-Tutu-like, global truth and … reconciliation, please.

In #twitterfiction, what needs to be read by every human (every man, woman
and child on the planet), has been read only by … Arthur Everman.

In #twitterfiction, AN ATLAS … POETIC; poetry about history, sociology
and eschatology; irony in verse for each nation … and territory.

Irony in verse, for each nation and territory. That is what is in #twitterfiction,
AN ATLAS POETIC; a call to action to … become Bohemian.

#Twitterfiction: Follow @chachomanopapa on Twitter and its surreal analog,
chachomanopapa.wordpress.com; historic poetry from tweets and … a blog.


Acculturation, the modification of the original culture of individuals
or groups through prolonged contact with different cultures
has, up until recently, been a rare phenomenon. The internet’s potential
to acculturate … surely … is treasure.

Acculturation’s a natural process, not readily appreciated in the absence
of an expansive perspective, as, for example,
from the Creator’s point of view. In His view, irrelevant is difference,
but indifference … is … abominable.

Time for Global Truth and Reconciliation; surreally, whether you think we
can, or whether you think we can’t, you’re right, absolutely!
And so, The Wine and Cheese Miracles; prose, poetry, tragedy and comedy;
nonfiction … posing as fiction … ironically.

In poems melding Ovid’s and Emily’s about change and a letter, visionaries
ask of you: Of what good are borders and nationalities?
From a nonfictional dream, a poetic and prosaic tragi-comedy,
and prophesy too … for prediction … is prophesy.

Arthur prayed to his deity, He of the Jews, Christians and Muslims;
praying he’ll find … the missing Bohemians.
Allah/Jehovah/God/Yahweh as if answered in dreams: “Tweet to the denizens,
a blog and a book …. Write, to your global … co-citizens”.

Let’s take shortcuts in this surreal reality to peace and prosperity. Alchemically
speaking, the internet is the Philosopher’s Stone. We are … but one … only.
Let’s take shortcuts to peace and prosperity. Abnegate nationality. Accent humanity,
and upon what others have built … build atop it … opportunity.

And so, inspired by Ovid and Emily, Arthur wrote a fiction, non-fictionally.
This tribal nation-state thing is untenable … undeniably.
“To be … or not to be ….” So wrote the great Willy. It’s past time we
take a page from that play and ponder its implications … sagely.