DARK POETRY: Today’s New Paradigm (Paul Williams)

Cultural Intelligence


By Paul Williams (Tall Paul)


I live twenty miles south, down the coast from Point Mugu Air Station—where fleets of giant C-5 cargo planes transport our west coast boys from Camp Pendleton and other bases to the Middle East for war.  Ronald Regan used to fly into Mugu on Air Force One from the White House when he vacationed up in these Ventura hills and mountains.  From time to time, when I drive up to Oxnard to get my generator or other off grid mechanisms serviced or repaired, I see the volunteer boy-soldiers of the underclass standing in line, slowly disappearing like a string of spaghetti being slurped up by the dark gray aircraft monsters.

In the days before the public knew about stealth aircraft, the angular warplanes regularly raced over my coastal private valley.  Before new bombs are used in the war zone, they are tested on San Nicolas Island, sixty miles straight out into the Pacific from my retreat of converted shipping containers that I call Camp Afghanistan (a CIA friend said “This looks like a Special Forces advance camp in Kabul).

When this ordinance explodes, out sixty miles as the bird flies from my spot, it is often difficult to tell if it’s an earthquake or a returning space shuttle breaking the sound barrier (as it comes in for an alternate landing site at Edwards Air Force base, fifty miles east).  But usually it is neither, it’s just another test by Mugu’s Naval Weapons Center.

Usually, within two to four weeks, there is a major bunker-buster explosion somewhere in the Middle East or Afghanistan.

Once a tomahawk guided missile came at us, straight from San Nicholas Island’s direction, but it veered north as it came within a couple of hundred yards of us on the coast of the Pacific Ocean.  Glad the guidance system’s subcontractor was on his toes.

In any event, last night I had a particularly vivid dream of two C-5’s flying together along the nearby coast, from Magu to the southeast horizon, where they circled and came back up the coast.  When they got near, however, it turned out to be a single aircraft bigger than two C-5’s, rectangular with a flat underside, flying slowly, under 200 miles an hour.  In this dream of mine, I tried vainly to get out my Droid to take a picture.

This morning, my brother telephoned from his place up a 300-foot hill nearby.  He’s lived there for ten years.  He said that,  “In the middle of the night, I heard the loudest sound I’ve ever heard and it woke me up.  Really loud.  I got up and so did Leon,” his dark grey cat.  “It was so loud it shook the house, the loudest, longest thunder, and lasted for a half a minute.  I stayed up for half-an-hour at two in the morning to see if it would come again.  It didn’t.

Evidentially, my subconscious was trying to make some sense of this unique thunder.

As we know, toilet seats and hammers do not cost $600, as the military accounts for them.  It is their way of hiding expenditures on secret military development, “black ops.”. It’s been a few decades now since the stealth fighters and bombers became public.  I was wondering what the next secret generation of weapons is:  Lasers?  Zero mass (outside the reach of gravity) hi-tech gyroscope based aircraft?  A combination?

On what are military weapons developers spending their yearly $100 billion (that’s a trillion, every ten years, by the way)?
I will have to revise my paradigm.  Perhaps I must include giant rectangles that fly, very loudly.

And that brings me to my final sharpening of Hokum’s Razor, explaining it all to myself in the simplest explanation of the greatest number of phenomenon.

I have always loved grids and systems, from The Greening of America to The Lexus and the Olive Tree, from The Edge of History to The End of History, from The Origin of the Species to Germs, Guns and Steel, from Programming and Meta-Programming in the Human Bio-Computer to The Synchronicity is Near, from Thinking the Unthinkable to The Age of the Unthinkable

Wonderful paradigms for understanding at least a leg of the elephant, I like to think.

But last night’s dream and this morning’s report from my Brother, make me realize that the simple explanation is simply that change is accelerating at a rate now that requires a new paradigm before the last one is proven–as in proving grounds (as a testing ground, that is, not as in proof).

Like all those birds that fell to ground in Arkansas, with exploded hearts and liquified bodies.  Tessler based, acoustic warfare experiments?  Chemicals shot into the ionosphere that descend as Gels making sounds that kill birds, just as active sonar blasts out the whales’ eardrums in the ocean at my front door?

Some men may desire Peace, but Capital has its own desire, to concentrate.  There is no easier way for capital to concentrate than by using most of the mankind’s wealth to manufacture high tech weapons and arm the lesser nations of our planet with hand me downs.

See Also:

Reference: The Rich are Not Hypocrites by Paul Williams

Reference: Paul Williams on America Now

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