Posted on 06/25/2025 5:16:54 AM PDT by RoosterRedux
just did a binge watch
B.F. looked and sounds like matt damon ( and is a better actor too )
disturbing how real AI generated video looks though.
Yes, I read that. I guess that is why, when I was about fifteen, I saw a light go from horizon to horizon, back and forth, in seconds doing right angle turns up and down. Yep, all that disinformation I never knew existed made me see that.
And I suppose that retroactively caused that elderly woman who told me she saw a flying saucer silently drift just above the trees around 1930.
Here is some modern “disinformation” for you:
https://www.amazon.com/Humanoid-Encounters-AD-1899-HUMANOID-ENCOUNTERS/dp/B09FC6HC4P
Lol.
How do you know the thing you saw zigzagging was really a ‘thing’?
Your first few paragraphs suggested a visit to:
https://www.logorrheafoundation.com/what-is-logorrhea/
(Does it get better?)
Does it get better? Probably not. I mean, that's what authors do... they write a lot of words....
Some people have raved about the work, but maybe it's not your thing?
Humanity, Machines, Science, Spirituality, and Loveā¦
This book may be sci-fi, but it is humans, and specifically our frailty, that take center stage. Fear, greed, misunderstanding, and especially miscalculation dog the steps of all the players, good and bad. And these emotions and failings are apparent on every human level, from international and geopolitical, to cabinet meetings, and particularly interpersonal.
All this human element makes this book supremely and wonderfully unpredictable. All the plans and the plotting and the grandest schemes on even the global and national level, can fall completely to pieces for the smallest of reasons, like one cautious woman engaging in some CYA. āThe best laid plans of mice and men,ā are often nothing in the face of a world populated by individuals, by unpredictable humans.
The science and the machines in this book are riveting and one can see Tom Clancy in heaven, nodding his approval. The dissection of the physics and energy calculations surrounding star travel are especially impressive, and lead to one of the best lines in the book, āI guess all the science-fiction writers got it wrong.ā
The surprise ending, like so much great writing, is an uplifting message of hope and love. Because in the end, we are not alone, and there is much more to us than the selfish, the petty, and the unthinking.
Well, the reviewer writes well.
Ok, gotchya. You’re not a fan. š
“How do you know the thing you saw zigzagging was really a āthingā?”
I saw a light [about the size planets give off, a bit larger than stars] moving as I described. It soon became stationary, enlarged to about the size of a softball, blinked on and off, and then went dark. I was disappointed. The event lasted about ten seconds. It was, of course, unforgetable.
I might be of the story. I’m just not a fan of florid prose.
We can do all sorts of things with ‘lights’, now.
Yep, out here in a heavily forested area and the temperature was about 30 degrees. Nobody out but me.
Why are you so determined to deny UFOs? Ronald Reagan talked about seeing one; he stated that one of the things SDI could be used for would be to protect us from an “invasion from out there” and he held his arm up.
You can’t find a airline pilot who has not seen UFOs. One told me they were not allowed to discuss or report on them.
It would be hard to find highly trained military pilots who have not seen UFOs.
Some Apollo astronauts (Gordon Cooper for one) reported seeing them after they had left the agency.
A British newspaper ran a story showing outdoor group photos that had accidently captured an UFO (saucer) in the background. One was dated 1884.
They are written about in ancient literature.
I don’t deny UFOs. People have seen them throughout recorded history.
I’m denying that they’re extraterrestrial in a nuts-and-bolts sense, or that they all even represent the same thing. A lot of sightings are probably our own technology; and others seem to have some relation to our collective psyche, something arising out of human consciousness for a purpose.
In the sweeping, virtually boundless canvas of my novelās design, one discovers scarcely even a solitary flourish of florid prose; rather, I have, with a devotion nearly akin to that of a cloistered monk, imposed upon myself a rigorously ascetic discipline of linguistic restraintāvaluing brevity with quasiāreligious fervor, and meticulously pruning each and every phrase as though performing a sacred horticultural ritual in service of taut, unembellished expression.
With the solemnity of a devout ascetic, I adhere to a manifestly minimalist credo, in which every individual syllable is subjected to deliberate scrutinyāeach fragment of sound weighed on an invisible scale of necessity, measured by an uncompromising standard of expressive efficiency, and then either solemnly retained for its essential contribution or ruthlessly excised in pursuit of razorāsharp clarity.
Gone is any trace of rhetorical indulgence; every clause not only performs but earns its minutes in the spotlight of the narrative, contributing precisely and only what is necessary, without superfluous ornamentation. In this austere architecture of words, there is no room for surplus; no adjective is left unexamined, no adverb unchallenged. It is a realm in which verbal economy transcends mere stylistic preference to become an ethical stanceāa stern creed of concision under which I labor.
And yet this is not mere stylistic choiceāit is, in essence, a solemn act of devotion to the purity of expression. Like a sculptor who chips away all extraneous marble to reveal the form hidden within, I chip away at sentences, clause by clause, until only that which is truly vital remains. The result is prose pared to its barest sinewsāeach word a precisely calibrated instrument, every phrase a lean vector of thought, uncompromised by any hint of decorative excess.
What remains, then, is not baroque effusion but crystalline lucidity: a text so refined that it seems almost improbable such restraint could yield richness. It is writing that breathes through absence rather than abundanceāa disciplined silence between notes that gives melody its power. In the austere symmetry of this approach, I discover that economy of language is not a limitation but a liberationāan ascetic path that, ironically, yields its own form of expressive grandeur.
To piytar: Everyone's a critic. ššš
But seriously, my stuff isn’t florid...not by my definition, anyway. Most of my exposition occurs in dialogue.
Very nice. (I’d give you good odds in the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest...)
“...something arising out of human consciousness for a purpose.”
Complete, total, utter nonsense. Something that arises out of human consciousness does not wound, burn, and kill them, or shoot down pursuing jet fighters.
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