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Location: UFOUpDatesList.Com > 2000 > Jan > Jan 2

Alfred's Odd Ode #332

From: Alfred Lehmberg <Lehmberg@snowhill.com>
Date: Sat, 01 Jan 2000 10:00:02 -0600
Fwd Date: Sun, 02 Jan 2000 01:18:56 -0500
Subject: Alfred's Odd Ode #332

Apology to MW #332 (For January 1, 2000)

High in Chinese mountains and on the border with Tibet, a team
of archeologists were conducting digs, it's said.  The routine
exploration of a set of linking caves was detailed and
scientific -- when they came upon some graves. The graves,
arranged so neatly, were to yield what portends . . . yet
another haunting mystery -- did it happen? Bet it did.

The graves gave up their contents, and the men just stood
aghast.  Their mouths were hanging open for credulity was cast!
Within these graves the bones were *strange* -- perhaps some
kind of ape?!? The heads too large, the bones too small, and
tiny (?!) -- how they gaped! "Ape men" was a silly stretch,
these scientists were seasoned -- what kind of ape will BURY
dead? They HAD to come to reason.

And then it was they found the *stones*, and what *ape* crafted
these? Tiny hieroglyphics spun in spirals one could see. How
like a "stone age gramophone", they thought, and were to say,
but that was nineteen thirty-eight, and this is present day.
Twelve thousand years had passed to dust from times too dark and
fabled. The disks of stone were ancient, too explicably
mislabeled.  Even those who had them had no clue what they were
for -- dismissed as cultish objects, they are locked in Chinese

The plates resemble records that a *caveman* would have played,
a big hole in the center and the spiraled tight display. The
glyphs display like feathers of a paranormal bird as they fan
imagination in the way that they've been curved. There's
nothing, then, quite like the way that they were crafted out.
There is the plate of Lollidof (another Dropa shout!), which
COULD be serendipity if there is a GRAIN of truth, but this just
won't be talked about, so some can stay aloof.

For YEARS the disks are studied, and they vex the greatest
minds. The Chinese keep it to themselves not knowing what
they'll find. They ARE so *strangely* puzzled; it's compelling,
so bizarre, 'till finally they DO crack it (!), and we see just
where we are. The contents are so shattering, tumultuous, and
sincere that the lid is clamped upon them and they're silenced
by the fear! Ridiculed, at present, by our sacrosanct *elite*,
these are stories that inflame the mind, but for SOME demand

Dr. Tsum (?) (our brave code breaker) likely opted for
discussion. He saw the different paradigms in a burst of light's
concussion?  For years he argues quietly (he would fear the
prison camp?), but then Peking decided. They would light that
secret's lamp! The year, by now, was sixty-five, and I was still
in school; a green-eared lad of fifteen years, a sophomore . . .
a fool <g>. But I remember vaguely in a paper from a friend . .
. which spoke of Chinese UFO's -- that "Dropa" word again. And
today in nineteen ninety-nine, I see that word once more, and
the story (plus some pictures!) rather put me through the floor.

It WAS twelve thousand years ago, and from the trackless sky . .
. descends a *ship* in trouble -- call it fable, myth, or lie.
They land, contact the people, called the Ham (they lived in
caves). Some are slaughtered for their trouble, and so end their
hapless days. They're hunted down on horseback, "gaunt and
yellow" -- not like men. Their *ugliness* transcends belief --
stranger *strangers* . . . sans some friends. Some must live to
make it known that they are quite sincere, have peaceful, kind
intentions -- and are really not that queer. They mix genetic
*essence* with the people of the Ham. Those folks, today (?) --
anomalous, unexplained . . . a mystery, Sam. The "plates"?
They're still the mystery, their construction isn't plain.
Containing too much cobalt, and by *wattage* marked and stained.
Electrical components would be "scarred" in such a way, and the
plates have *other* properties. They hum when spun they say. In
sum a scary story, or a message from the past, that it's true --
we're not IN Kansas, and the secret's out at last.

Just another cruel enigma, wrapped in years of crass denial? The
plates contest *reality*, so a look is NOT worthwhile? And we
don't look, we ridicule, and mock, or smirk -- or worse, we're
back-step dancing shufflers -- it's no blessing; it's a curse. A
curse of shallow sightlessness, and a waste of useful talent, a
choice for all the worst ideas -- the short view's selfish
challenge. But for them we'd live . . . tall lives in space . .
. in constructs that we made, respecting individuals, and the
TEAMS that they would make! Satisfaction so achievable that it's
in the air you breath, respect that's so forthcoming you can
chew it with your teeth. Freedom that's decided as the common
right of birth, education's focus is "you make your *own*
choice", Burt! You're given information which might change the
way you feel, and you buy in, the choice is YOURS . . . you
strike an honored deal.


Pronounced *drohzz-pa*.

Restore John Ford.

EXPLORE Alfred Lehmberg's Alien View" at his Fortunecity URL.
                  **<Updated 25 December>**

JOHN FORD RESTORATION FUND -- Send your checks and
money orders to _me_, Alfred Lehmberg
(cut out the lawyers, they got theirs) at:
304 Melbourne Drive, Enterprise AL, 36330. Strict records kept.
$350.00 pledged -- $200.00 collected!

"I cleave the heavens, and soar to the infinite. What others see from
afar, I leave far behind me." - Giordano Bruno, burned at the
fundamentalist's stake.

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