a reply to:
KineticX
I am brand new here, so be gentle with me, as they say. It is my first post, and I am replying to yours, KineticX, where you say that humanity has
failed. It is a big topic, a massive subject, a nebulous area, and yet I cannot help but agree with you -- in the main. What a sad lot we are as a
species. Parts of us are rotten to the core. Other parts are seething with malevolence. Some parts are decaying, almost beyond redemption. As for
visiting museums and art galleries . . . I understand what other posters are saying. For instance I went into McCafe today for my usual coffee and a
read of my book in my favourite corner, and I came across a young woman from Sweden, no more than 20 or so, who was drawing in the corner at her
table. I pretended to look out the window, and as I did so I glanced down at what she was drawing. Oh my God! To see such exquisite craftsmanship
right under my nose. This thing of beauty -- a sketch in charcoal of an old lady, a close up of her profile as she looked out of her cottage window, a
certain troubled expression rippling across her leathery face, her wizened eyes glistening with the moisture of concern. Was she waiting for her son
or daughter? Was her husband at sea, captain of a fishing trawler, perhaps? Was she reminiscing about dim and distant times, when youth was her
companion? What had this Swedish artist captured at that moment, in charcoal, on that paper? Such exquisite artistry -- a moment in time frozen for
eternity, for us to enjoy whenever we please. A thing of beauty. As I walked away with my latte shaking in my hand, heading into my habitual corner,
to read my biography on Edgar Allan Poe, my heart was still pounding from the sheer delight of that young woman's drawing. On another topic, in 1992
in London I went to see a psychic medium by the name of Don Galloway. Don died about a year ago after a long illness. He was one of the most brilliant
natural psychics in Britain. No one in his right mind can dispute this. Anyway, I went to see Don one morning in the spring of 1992. He didn't know
anything about me, not even my first name. All he had was "ten o'clock appointment." Within two minutes of sitting down, Don told me that my mother
was there. (She died 30 years previously, but he couldn't have known this because I hadn't told him a word about my life.) He then said: "Ah, she is
with your father. They're both here." (The hairs on my neck stood to attention.) My father died 25 years ago. He then told me things that only I would
have known. He even told me about my Uncle Peter, whom I had never met. He told me not only how he died (in a submarine in the English Channel) but
WHEN he died. Don then told me something so private, so personal and shockingly intimate that I almost fell out my comfortable armchair. No one,
absolutely no one, knew about this -- especially a stranger in North London, a man whom I had only just met. I left that appointment floating on air,
with a heightened sense of mankind's sheer brilliance and creativity. Has mankind 'failed'? Let me put it this way. I believe, with hand on heart,
that mankind per se has not failed, but that our species has been corrupted by the Alpha Draconis warriors, those psychopathic, narcissistic beasts
who prey upon our souls, who pollute our very existence, and only when they either become fed up with us and leave, or when some other alien species
of a more benevolent nature take over this plant, will we have peace on this blighted rock we call Earth. No one in his right mind can say that we are
being elevated as species. No, we are deteriorating in our madness and our collective insanity. I believe that the Alpha Draconis warriors, heartless
souls, are dragging us down a little more each day. But, and it is a big but, remember the likes of the Swedish artist and English psychic medium Don
Galloway. These, and people like them, are our lights in this often dark world of rottenness and corruption. We need souls like these more than ever.
Good post, KineticX. You stimulated my imagination and gave me great pleasure. It was a joy to read your words.