The Attack of the Spider Web

Parchial Ramblings

Conspiracy Edition

Friday the 13th

Lets begin a new conspiracy story. A rambling rambler rose. A rose by any other game is simply the way this story begins. Lets try on this new hat and see if it fits. Lets just expand our rambling roses and call it the Alberta Parochial Edition. Or what Ralph Klein would call the AISH edition of defeatism.

Once upon a time there was a King of the Hill. His name was not frank or friday but Ralph. He had a big snoz and lived in a big res and still had no friday next to his name. Most Fridays, as Robinson once said, live alone on their own little islands. Islands filled with mystery and intrigue. Filled with delightful birds, fruit breaded by life, and still left on ones own.

A man who lives in such a place might develop an anti-social behavioural attitude such as "I am king" and he would look to others as social ants. Such a man would see himself as able to defeat any system thrown at him simply with enough people and resources. Take for example the AISH system of which I have been part.

I took part in it simply because I suffered mysterious levels of disease which could not be cured by their system. Because it was such a devious system no one had the knowledge to be delivered from it. Such deliverance rode upon waves casting debris and drifting wood upon this kings land. He rode upon it as if he were king of its lands and its peoples. Its not that he didn't have a modicum of compassion. He did. He crept and bummed his way around the land and pied his essence into every crevass of it. Few wondered at this mans wealth or even asked what swiss miss might think of it. Would he be a man of wealth or a man of modest means?

Perhaps one might wonder what his true heritage was? Did he know that the heritage was that of the people or that of the king of his own personal ant hill.

The AISH system is a demonstration of power over the handicapped versions of society. They are demonstratably the weakest links in our measure of mankind. One thought we hold most evident is that we desire liberty and justice. The last thought they hold is that we be free of their tyranny and oppression. How can one call an AISH system a just system when we are held in chains below deck? When the ship which carries us is sinking in its own depravaty? I have felt the dept of this debrassing more then once. It carries us into a rapturous defeatism that strokes our pain and coddles our hatred.

So how do you escape when the hospitals of the land hold us in contempt as well? What possible motivations could their be for locking us with wards and carting us into suffering? Are we the chattel or the cattle? If we are the cattle then it would seem possible we are the mad scientists who labour in vain. If we are the chattle then we are those who have gone mad in our attempts to free us from the farmed system.

When I think of AISH I ask myself why I would labor in vain? Am I, a man, a man who labors as a woman? I think not. I know I am a man. Yet I face a system that defeats me at every turn as they attempt to chattle us like cattle into a stroke or a lonliness or a defeatism maditude.

There is perhaps a system of men called slave labor. It would be this attitude which stems from the broken fringes. A broken fringe can be thought of as a non-virginous attitude. We are prostituted by the thoughts of men who hold us in contempt on every side. We are held in a bondougous thought process which holds so much contempt for us that the rich be prospered while the poor be indentured into deeper darkness.

As an AISH slave I am bonded by the King of the Hill who holds my freedoms in log jams which clog the system. A system so devious that one might wonder who and whereby this system deviated from the truth.

An AISH slave is one who is crippled at every turn no matter where he lives. Should he try for social freedom the butterfly effect goes down on him like a ton of bricks. He is shattered, molded and then takes on the prosperity of death. The polo system and the law hold him in as much contempt as if he were the epitime of hatred. The ambulating vehicles on the streets cart him around at half time as if he were the half time show. They cart him into rooms of darkness and into modes of pain and sorrow and suffering.

I've been an AISH slave for years now. I have not found any effective way to free myself. I have searched for it in honest indignation and a cry like Kuntakontai for freedom. Let the voice rise from the streets I wanted to cry but I have no physical voice, only the stomach whispers in pain.

So how do I get free of this system? Do I shout from the newspapers which barely touch on this fringe sosciety? Should I write endless letters hoping someone on high might hear? I guess if one mows their grass too often their should be those who help keep it short and succinct.

I often wonder what the purpose of AISH is. If I am an AISH slave should I not be thankful for the handouts of the proverbial government? What government hands out modicums to their society at large? Are we the labor of the hands or the hands which labor? When I think of hands that labor I am driven by an ambition to make a difference in society. Take for example my website www.earth-house.com which I have been working on in my spare time for nearly 8 years now. If I am a worthless edition to the mornings edition should there not be a time and place for people like me who are sick and diseased with multiple orderlies? Am I so repugnant to the disordered societal discord that none will pay me the slightest heed? Should I break free of this system with just words? Or should I stand up and shout loudly knowing that the shaking of the earth is but the shaking of my own soul. For I am but the dust of it and yet my heart yearns for the intimacy of life. Not the death of it.

The AISH system under King Ralph surely may be described as a parochial one. Filled with an anarchists revenge for solitude. One is filled with fiery words of passion to develop a system ripe for the plucking. Like hens we are stripped of our rights, placed in wired cages, tossed into the refuse bin and then turned off when we cry for help.

There are a lot of systems in the world that are evil but AISH is perhaps one of the worst. Let me explain why.

A man or woman on the AISH system literally starves to death because they can never raise their own food or support themselves on their own. The higher the amount of money they receive the higher the system demands of them. For example I have spent much of my life savings demanding a change in the way we do housing. I have seen in the Shirelings a desire for passionate change as of the case of FRODO. Frodo was a man after my own heart. He desired change so greatly that he was willing to pay any price even when it meant the dissolution of his own soul. He cried unto the ages "Let me make a difference!"

It was his cry that joined forces into a solidarity. It was not the end of the system but the starting of one. Whereby one calls forth unto the crippled, the blind, the deaf and the dumb such as myself. Dumb as in "How could I be so blind, crippled and defeated by the aims of others?"

 Am I a system partner or a man of La Mazda? As in my 14 year old truck which rusts its way towards oblivion. I see myself as a partner of God but a friend of Christ. I see myself as one who has prayed fervently for change but seen a system that would defeat and crucify one who tries to change it. I see a chance encounter with men who are rich and yet would fall into hell itself and cry out for change themselves. Let us not think of the sick and disorderly as the castoffs of garbage. We must lift them up from the smoky mountain to which they are thrown. We must lift them up from the dark alleys and wayfaring strangers who pass by in orgastic oblivions. I have seen myself in their eyes and I have seen the end of an era. The AISH system must die and men and women of capable hands must start reaching out and turn their night lights on again. We have lived in fear long enough. We close our gates and our hearts and the dark riders strip us of our reason. We PC the DC system into an AC current which electrifies us into hiding under our blankies at night. Who doesn't want change? You don't! You are the reason our world is caught up in a dark world. I am fighting it with all my might but only my words are real. The rest of me is just a figment in the night covered under an elf blanket which hides me from orcs and men.

I do not think you realize the power you have. I suggest you peek out and see that even Sam Wise and Frodo could change the world because they had the courage. As Gollum would say, "I'm bad" "I'm good" but you ain't good nor bad, just lukewarm. Such is life I guess.