I have a new blog post up at the Green Room. It is called Zealotry Again. I know, I just can't get off that subject, but at least it won't be in Grey Matters again. BTW, I have never publicly thanked Alfred Lehmberg for coming up with that great name - The Green Room, so let me do it now. Thanks Alfred! Contrary to what you may hear, Alfred is a good guy. Alfred is the first other UFO blogger that I met when I started this blog over 3 years ago. Everyone else pretty much ignored me, some were mean to me, but he was nice to me and encouraging so I actually owe him much more thanks than just for that name.
Things here are well. I finally have everything totally figured out with my sister's estate. It isn't going to make some of her creditors very happy, but I really don't care. Let them sue the estate. They will find it isn't worth their time. Also let me do some bitching about mortgage company. I was totally amazed to find out how badly my sister's mortgage company was ripping her off on the loan for her mobile home. Every year 90% of the payments were only covering interest. If she had lived to be a hundred it would have probably never been paid off. May they rot in HELL. I will not clean it out for them to repossess it. In fact, aside from it being dirty I hope it smells too and I hope the smell never goes away and they can never resell it to some other trusting person. My sister was a teacher and at the time (nearly 10 years ago) without any real credit so I guess she had to take what she could get and likely didn't understand what she was getting into. They were more than willing to take advantage of that. Green Tree Mortgage - if you ever come across them run like your ass is on fire.
4 comments:
Nobody likes me
Everybody hates me...
They can pound worms
Past their pithy prolapses...
You, on the other hand were bright, consistent, ethical, diligent and brave so I ask you... what's not to like?
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Obviously with certain people you challenge their beliefs of how ufology should be done. The others, I haven't a clue. Maybe they just don't like poets.
On reflection... Deceased equine abuse, I know, but I don't think I challenge ufological belief systems as much as make it clear that I'm not going to provide the automatic, or default, external validation that the criticized feel they deserve, somehow. If something smells, I'm duty bound to curl my nose, eh?
Too, on the poetry. No one talks about it, or gives it the time of day beyond talking point buzzwords like "incomprehensibility," "pretentiousness", and "inflated."
But then neither do they cite the specific text proving the most incomprehensible or pretentious or inflated to inquire what indeed I'm on about, you know? ...Even with a sneer or crossed arms confident I don't know what I'm saying, either.
I've been around over a decade now playing this tune so I _might_ be on about something, eh? You bet.
I would submit that many of these persons know full well what I'm on about but are reluctant to kick over my particular rock, of needs, comfortable to let that sleeping dog lie... Trouble is?
I'm not asleep, and provoked? Well -- _try_ to muzzle me, right?
An opponents unlikely victory will be decidedly Phyrric if I've input at all and breath remains.
...Back to you, Lesley. [g].
¥
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