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Friday, December 22, 2006
Get Out While You Still Can Clark – With A Shred Of Dignity
It’s a truism; you often become the thing you hate most. Snake Oil Salesmen flatter to deceive. They get you looking in one direction while they pick your pocket from the other. They have no substance and because they have nothing, they puff their chests out and talk loudly.
When you strip away the camouflage of Clark’s recent contributions to the List, the bluster, the swaggering, the bullying, the strutting, the badly concealed insults, you are left with simply this; I am cleverer than you, I am right because I have been doing this for longer, you are stupid.
If there ever was anything approaching intellectual gravitas attached to Jerry Clark, it has now sadly gone, flushed away with his vanishing talent and his disappearing presence. Mr. Boom Boom Man, pay heed. If you have anything approaching an iota of self respect, then get out now while you still can, before its too late and some of us start calling a spade a spade.
I’m either guilty of the Lehmberg disease of ass licking or of not paying attention. I’ve either thought in the past that Jerry Clark is a Ufological god and that anything he said was filled with words of wisdom or……………I’ve just never bothered to read properly and take in what he’s actually been saying all these years. There’s one other alternative: recently he’s started to show his intellectual age and is turning into another Dick Hall. In other words, a humorless, shallow, tunnel-visioned, arrogant, ignorant reactionary. To be fair to me, it’s probably the latter.
http://www.virtuallystrange.net/ufo/updates/2006/dec/m19-011.shtml What a knob head! What a pompous twatimus. Above all, what a profoundly stupid man, a really, really stupid man. Its not often I get to say that about anyone, because I always make allowances, but in his case I won’t as he has the intellectual range to know better.
Because this is a man who knows, and he knows what the rest of the “real” world doesn’t know, namely that the answer to everything is the ETH. And because he knows this to be right, everything else is wrong and, in the case of say cryptoterrestrials, it’s even brainless. Jerry Clark says it’s brainless, so it must be. This mind you from the man who thinks those silver discs in the sky contains living aliens. Fuckwitterry arrives early for Christmas.
I Hope Santa Claus Gets His Dick Stuck Up Rudolph's Ass: Fuck Christmas!
Remember the Alex Harvey band and their version of Delilah? Remember the video and the band member dressed as a mouse who would at one point hop in an exaggerated manner, in time to the music, across the stage towards the perennially drunk Alex? It was funny. And the whole charade is being played out before our eyes years later, again, as we watch Alf do the hopping dance with Kimbling.
Alfred doesn’t hate anyone anymore. He long gave up on Rimmer, who he would dog religiously at every turn. And of course Kimbling was the most disgusting individual ever to have had two feet planted on this planet. How could Kimbles even have the audacity to actually breathe, so appalling an example of the human species was he?
The hopping dance you are observing on Updates right now is the sight of Alfred making friends with Paul. Paul and Alfred. That sounds nice, doesn’t it?
http://www.virtuallystrange.net/ufo/updates/2006/dec/m13-009.shtml But why? Is it that Alfred is growing old maybe? Has he grown up and realised there are more important things in life than whatever? Does he just not care anymore? Actually, does anyone care anymore? While it is “that time of the year” I still think the lethargy this year has not only set in early but may well be terminal.
There is no passion, there is no anger, there is nothing. We’re fucked.
You are probably watching the final death throes of Ufology.
Ufologically Speaking, Why the World Hates America
Albuquerque. A strange name in a strange place. In Albuquerque lives a woman called Lesley. She doesn’t get out much. She’s interested in UFOs and she does a daily blog news thing about them. One day she discovered there was something called foreigners. She was puzzled. She worked out that foreigners live somewhere else, usually not in the same country as her and they either spoke English with a funny accent or, and this was really difficult for her to get her head round, they didn’t actually speak English at all. How could that be? And, where else was there to live if you didn’t live in the USA? In the sea? In Russia with all the communists or that place called Eyerack with the tourists?
She puzzled about this and it caused her angst. And then one day there was a loud metal hitting wood kind of noise inside her head. She realized it was the sound of a penny dropping. It was like a religious revelation: There are other people in the world and they have UFOs too. Hallelujah
There are countless different excuses for UFOs. For example, I enjoy those alternative civilization theories as suggested by Tim Good or Ed Gerhman and/or countless others which run along the lines of they’re either here now and living in the Antarctic or the hollow earth or in a massive spaceship hidden up there, or they were here ages before us, and so on. The detail doesn’t actually matter; the point is in the principle. Why do people go there as opposed to the ETH? Do they run into a personal brick wall with regards to long distance space travel? Is it because the concept of life on another planet somewhere else is too strange and yet the idea of another civilization living parallel to us or having lived here before and vanishing without leaving any evidence whatsoever seems, to them, to make more sense?
Who knows? I do not subscribe to any of these theories in any of their variations although I have no particular objection to them. People are entitled to believe what they want and you can’t truly reject anything in this game simply because you just don’t know - you can never tell. I’m still recovering from the shock of reading this from our current Bette noir, Mr. Jerome Clark. I was so taken a back
http://www.virtuallystrange.net/ufo/updates/2006/nov/m30-002.shtml that I knocked my bedside lamp over in a panic and spilled a drink all over my bed sheets. More stains to get Biddy all worked up! At first I thought this posting was quite remarkable in that there was much I could learn from it for alas, my way of dealing with something or someone I consider negative is to respond aggressively. Clark appeared to have achieved much the same affect as I would, arguably more so, by an admirably slimy and understatedly silent, bigoted diatribe.
Yet it is so narrowly focussed (towards the ETH despite his cautious qualifications in the past), and so close minded that it becomes an unintentionally self parodying satire. The most eloquent and articulate means I can summon to describe it is; it’s a fucking joke. Even allowing for all the silliness about Creighton and Keel, the fact is, the Man from Can, however much he might waffle on about it, does not and cannot know for sure that Keelian thoughts on demonology are wrong. He can only have an opinion and to dismiss other trains of thought as aggressively as he does, based not on the logic of his own reasoning but on the metal stability of the person he is attacking is, frankly, stupid and ignorant.
Eventually I woke up and realised that in fact Clark’s approach is no different from mine; it's just couched in another way and is much more disingenuous. His was a blatant and vicious personal attack on Bob Shell who, it must be admitted, is always fully deserving of such behvior. But then Clark had the chutzpah to come back afterwards and allege that it was no such thing. Perhaps yet again I am wrong about him and this is some subtle satire of us all where fundamentally he is treating us all as idiots as he jinxes and twists and turns this way and that, dragging us emotionally all over the place. That I could go for and I would like.
Or perhaps it simply means the man in a pompous burke. After all, he has birthdays and he doesn’t help us.
