Imitation = Compliment, Plagiarism Something Else

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String Theory's Mathematical Fright of the 4-D Bumble Bee

Brian Greene is a Keen Flying Machine
Spellbound, I will forever be under the baton of Nova's PBS broadcast Elegant Universe. Physicist Brian Greene is a Supreme and Empirical example of what it takes to become an American Idol. Anyone who can begin his fiat in real space-time with a one dimensional loop has my goat, I mean vote. There's no business like show business - like no business I know. The toughest business in the world. No I haven't stood in line to see the movie (stack it higher) yet, but I've read portions of the introduction to his book and all I can say is I've lost my ability to punctuate and misplaced any semblance of scientific inclination in the potent shadow of such a conspicuously talented and charismatic master of ceremonies.

In lieu of his Nobel Prize, room must be made for him in the house of Pulitzer, with Golden Globes suspended from the ceiling directly above the staging for the Academy Awards Oscar. Physicist Brian Greene is as every bit as elegant unto science & mathematics as Mike Tyson is unto pugilism in the international arena. The author is a model of what it takes to make it in the challenging world of political and social vertical ascension today. If Brian Greene and his 11 to 26 oscillating and undulating Super Strings don't vibrate all the way to the top of where it's at and stay there for another 30 years, displacing even the mighty big bang and black hole sensations, there is no Rex Reed or god... Meanwhile, the history of physics is kaput. My socks roll up and down in contemplation of the unfathomable depths that Lewis Carroll forsook, in his mathematical expeditions to and from Alice's Wonderland.

The destiny of science and humanity lies in the architectural ambition of designing a Castle in the Sky, where all that is needed is more bricks, mortar, multi- dimensional universal joints, wiring and an occasional - mathematically manifest - Sky Hook formula: when occasion behooves it. The Sky Hook's irreproachable mathematics rest on the backs of winged turtles. Forego talk of gravity. Any and all comprehensive understanding yields to highly classified. esoteric equations and formulae and elite societies of authorities ensconced in inscrutable coordinates.

Bewildered and beguiled public interrogatives may placate themselves with knowing with absolute certainty that the apparent complexities of reality are reducible to something that explains it with a burst of blinding lights that mathematically incapacitate all but the most refined, vitally youthful, specially educated and talented observers. A stronger, faster, more sentient class of Masterful Super Scholars than there were before.

The Past, Present and Future is a flash-frozen anachronism.

As for me, I'm investing in #2 pencils and a tin cup. My goodness gracious in these editorial waves of Future Shock - what Joy of Cooking books will be Magically, Mystically & Mathematically Microwaved by String Theory's 'Mother', next? When Mother ('M theory') needs another string dimension, she summons Father ('F theory') to rustle one up. Hence 10 dimensions beget 11, and if need be, 11 beget 26, and more if you have need for them. Creating a begotten bustle of iconoclastically inbred bastards to rival - or sink - Noah's Ark.

The Ministry of Plenty has merged with a Star Trek inspired Hollywood Guild, founded in the Top Guns of Geneva & Stockholm, where the answers proliferate in the parameters of a jungle of particular particles inventoried in collisions of ponderous protons. The reinstallment of Einstein's 'abandoned' Cosmological Constant - Lambda /\ - is a public secret wrapped in Dark Matter and Quintessence, while it is forgotten that Einstein (Who?) was returned to working on what he had earlier called the 'biggest blunder' of his life, before he perished at Princeton in '55.

Without a quantitative prediction in over 30 years the New Age string 'theory' advocates are push-pinned to the academic bulletin board, with the young school following the Ministry of Justice, the mathematicians following the funds and the physicists following the grants. Physics=Math. 2 + 2 = 5.

The Lost Platoon's objective is to bag a metaphorical lion Einstein spoke of in a parable - of a Unified Field that would unite electromagnetism, gravity and/or quantum theory - and, according to the latest reports from the inscrutable inner circle, quite possibly eliminate any need for gravity altogether.

Pretenders may fall with confidence upon the old saw of talking about something that they understand no one comprehends in the first place. Only string 'theorists'. ouija board masters, and certified table levitators will penetrate the matrix of mathematical entanglements, equations and collapsed triple canopy wet woodlands and thick snarling masses of tropical vegetation where Einstein's (!) fabled, Mighty King of the Jungle Makes and Maintains Dr. Greene's Mathematically Mystical Magic - the same 'M theory' Medium of Math that reckoned correction, after 'proving' why: a 4-D bumblebee can't fly.

"All things are possible" with string theory's invoked, smoked & misted Mirrors and Math.

The invoked lion is too large to be seen in the thick foliage and wilderness right now but the leading scatologists are reporting that soon rare paw prints will be located and the equation and formula slingers will be in gifted sight of the Jungle King's legendary one half inch of tail and then his mighty, hirsute caboose is predicted to emit a roar that may disable all sensory equipment for any further detection of him. The universe (one verse) has been modified by the New Age World Order to mean as many and more universes than there are grains of sand on all the beaches in all the world.

The sparkling possibilities are as endless as the New Age revised, revolutionary new approach to the 21st century TOE. The *Ministry of Truth & Propaganda (*Co-authored "Battered & Bullied Women Make Better Pancakes & Burgers") has in the meanwhile, cleared the path for the industriously unstoppable safari - by way of dismissing reality, for lack of evidence. The String 'theory' Medium of sub-quantum Mathematics has grounded the 4-D bumble bee, while empowering it's castle in the sky with the ability to fly. Dr. Brian Greene and his equations pristine, have beaten a main-stream path: back to the New Age Math.

There will be an answer, let it be? Anything is possible in the 'theorist community' of strings - just attach more strings where needed. Jiggle the loops and dig the vibes. Join the innercircle exotic equation cartel and liberate everything? History (and 1984?) may yet escape the past? :eek:

Thank you for reading this missive.
Best regards,
KBR (aka, etceteras)

O.K. everybody !! Look at paragraph numeral 3 . You tell Me he is not possessed ? Castle in the sky, Backs of winged turtles ? Where do people get this stuff / Are you all stalking Me with cameras or something
KBR sky hook is construction terminology. We keep them with the toe nails . I am a builder and all builders have toe nails and sky hooks . If you doubt that go ask any carpenter about it and he will explain it to you
 
Dear Me-Ki-Gel:

Your first post begs for a low down lawyer who can twist things around to your advantage and extolls evidence of Freud's fetish for anal fixation.

Your latest post reveals an inability to distinquish fact from slap-stick fantasy.

Weren't you long ago reconnoitered, uncomfortably seated on a sky hook, picking all twenty of your perilously yellow toe nails in Poughkeepsie?

Your previous post also unfolds as a double headed chore to validate crazymaking efforts.

Digressing to the last mock Chinese - looky-looky - post on page 4, declaring that my explicitly flowery writing may produce more books - post #17 on page 2 accesses readers to several books - via url click-ons -authored by Truly Yours.

Neverwill's malevolent mission to diagnose and apply 'grandiose' might be a tenable premise: if I wasn't the author of what he proves to covet so dearly, while mispronouncing Ayn Rand as a 'philosopher' instead of the novelist that she was. Viz., what's "science" got to do with this meadow pie sailing competition?

The winged turtles upon which the world is said to rest is hyperbole, alluding to an ancient parable of a young monastary monk who's been told that the world rests on the back of a turtle. The monk asks his master what the turtle rests upon... The master replies: "It's turtles all the way down, my son".

Please feel free to frolic furthermore in the rubble of your radioactively radiating rhubarb. All of my mortal missions are accomplished, making allowance for recreation, for as long as the incumbent moderators choose to countenance this melifluous marathon.

Be advised to make haste to pee in the wind, however, in the incumbently culminating perils of the ongoing atmospheric & aquatic emissions in Japan and the Gulf of Mexico. :rolleyes:

Best regards,
- Kent (aka, etceteras)
 
Dear Me-Ki-Gel:

Your first post begs for a low down lawyer who can twist things around to your advantage and extolls evidence of Freud's fetish for anal fixation.

Your latest post reveals an inability to distinquish fact from slap-stick fantasy.

Weren't you long ago reconnoitered, uncomfortably seated on a sky hook, picking all twenty of your perilously yellow toe nails in Poughkeepsie?

Your previous post also unfolds as a double headed chore to validate crazymaking efforts.

Digressing to the last mock Chinese - looky-looky - post on page 4, declaring that my explicitly flowery writing may produce more books - post #17 on page 2 accesses readers to several books - via url click-ons -authored by Truly Yours.

Neverwill's malevolent mission to diagnose and apply 'grandiose' might be a tenable premise: if I wasn't the author of what he proves to covet so dearly, while mispronouncing Ayn Rand as a 'philosopher' instead of the novelist that she was. Viz., what's "science" got to do with this meadow pie sailing competition?

The winged turtles upon which the world is said to rest is hyperbole, alluding to an ancient parable of a young monastary monk who's been told that the world rests on the back of a turtle. The monk asks his master what the turtle rests upon... The master replies: "It's turtles all the way down, my son".

Please feel free to frolic furthermore in the rubble of your radioactively radiating rhubarb. All of my mortal missions are accomplished, making allowance for recreation, for as long as the incumbent moderators choose to countenance this melifluous marathon.

Be advised to make haste to pee in the wind, however, in the incumbently culminating perils of the ongoing atmospheric & aquatic emissions in Japan and the Gulf of Mexico. :rolleyes:

Best regards,
- Kent (aka, etceteras)

Will you insult me? I feel so endeared towards you!
 
Ah, y'know, if Kaiduorkhon ever learns to use the correct words (and in the correct order) he'd be nearly worth reading.
But as the French say: that's life.
Of course they poncify it into c'est la vie but we know what they mean...
 
Dear quinnsong:
Since this keyboard only reflects and enhances insults, you can only be commended for your cordial demeanor. Thanks, and good to hear from you.
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Dear Dyw:
Your incumbent PC in this thread, might be confused for 'personal computer', or 'partly cloudy', however, due to your past penchants for unqualified political policies, your familiar vague generalities are politically 'correct' for predicate parlour practice.

Desde proximo vez. : )
 
Does the term "paranoid-schizophrenic" ring any bells here? O'course, paranoid does not preclude real enemies pursuing you... :rolleyes:
 
Dear Dyw:
Your incumbent PC in this thread, might be confused for 'personal computer', or 'partly cloudy', however, due to your past penchants for unqualified political policies, your familiar vague generalities are politically 'correct' for predicate parlour practice.

Desde proximo vez. : )

Oooh! See what I mean?
 
His postings almost seem to make sense...but you look for it somewhere in the jungle of motile metaphors and allusive alliteration...and it just gets lost in the florid unbridled undergrowth...seeming to communicate something, but never quite achieving the quivering arrow of passed thought...Despite how much one might stalk it like a tiger through the jungle, lurking, watching, with twitching tail and glittering eyes...nonetheless, it shall always elude you...much like the humble snipe, you may look for it, but never find it...it is perhaps the errant of a fool, who tilts at windmills thinking them giants, only to be tumbled, ass-over-teakettle, by the impersonal, universal forces.
 
Indeed. I've been watching Yes, Minister again and Sir Humphrey Appleby is a model of lucidity, concision and clarity compared to K.
Yes, yes, yes, I do see that there is a real dilemma here. In that, while it has been government policy to regard policy as a responsibility of Ministers and administration as a responsibility of Officials, the questions of administrative policy can cause confusion between the policy of administration and the administration of policy, especially when responsibility for the administration of the policy of administration conflicts, or overlaps with, responsibility for the policy of the administration of policy.
http://www.jonathanlynn.com/tv/yes_minister_series/yes_minister_episode_quotes.htm
 
Does the term "paranoid-schizophrenic" ring any bells here? O'course, paranoid does not preclude real enemies pursuing you... :rolleyes:

Indeed, such ersatz diagnosis has been projected this way a passel of times by those who clinically answer to it; esp the itches treading furiously in lakes of lice. :runaway:

You really seem to be on the inside track of racing enemies. Is there an anchor on your caboose? :bagpuss:
 
His postings almost seem to make sense...but you look for it somewhere in the jungle of motile metaphors and allusive alliteration...and it just gets lost in the florid unbridled undergrowth...seeming to communicate something, but never quite achieving the quivering arrow of passed thought...Despite how much one might stalk it like a tiger through the jungle, lurking, watching, with twitching tail and glittering eyes...nonetheless, it shall always elude you...much like the humble snipe, you may look for it, but never find it...it is perhaps the errant of a fool, who tilts at windmills thinking them giants, only to be tumbled, ass-over-teakettle, by the impersonal, universal forces.

Speaking of allusive alliteration, yours include sundry ways to spell and rhyme musical - and fish scaled - hiccups. Your shivering shaft of bygone thought for example, reminiscent of a present poltroon who fancies himself a Blake authored, striped menace - after recently morphing into an origami inspired fortune cookie beside a serving of Chinese quisined alley cat. Reading your own Quixotic matricidal mind aloud while spinning end over end, locomotive-over-caboose, sandwiching a plagiarizing pack of potty paralyzed passengers prey to hither & skelter quisling laws of motion and futile commotion - a camera captured shotgun vainly chambering convicted shells in the breach on the beach in endless quacking screech of 'Baby! What's mein aim'!?

The interrogatively rolling yarn ended with 'Call me Big Brother *Dick' .
Reminiscent of the true guiding rule - 'Turn. Or burn'. - projected by the indomitable Jews upon the Nazis of WW II.
Beginning in the Warsaw Ghetto; ending - with the *Big Bang Gang Meister - in Berlin.

Rounding off Hollywood Squares humming behind bars of beguiled X files.

How many other good books have you written lately? :idea:
 
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Speaking of allusive alliteration, yours include sundry ways to spell and rhyme musical - and fish scaled - hiccups. Your shivering shaft of bygone thought for example, reminiscent of a present poltroon who fancies himself a Blake authored, striped menace - after recently morphing into an origami inspired fortune cookie beside a serving of Chinese quisined alley cat. Reading your own Quixotic matricidal mind aloud while spinning end over end, locomotive-over-caboose, sandwiching a plagiarizing pack of potty paralyzed passengers prey to hither & skelter quisling laws of motion and futile commotion - a camera captured shotgun vainly chambering convicted shells in the breach on the beach in endless quacking screech of 'What's mein aim'!?

Rounding off Hollywood Squares humming behind bars of beguiled X files.

Written any other good books lately? :idea:

Do you pretend to talk this way in your real, everyday life? Will you be talking this way in the nursing home?
 
Do you pretend to talk this way in your real, everyday life? Will you be talking this way in the nursing home?

Ageism is futile - traditionally cheap shot - refuge in any retort, particularly in a world destined to fade out and radiate. The world tenants will ingest their voyager tablets in their own good time.
 
Speaking of allusive alliteration, yours include sundry ways to spell and rhyme musical - and fish scaled - hiccups. Your shivering shaft of bygone thought for example, reminiscent of a present poltroon who fancies himself a Blake authored, striped menace - after recently morphing into an origami inspired fortune cookie beside a serving of Chinese quisined alley cat. Reading your own Quixotic matricidal mind aloud while spinning end over end, locomotive-over-caboose, sandwiching a plagiarizing pack of potty paralyzed passengers prey to hither & skelter quisling laws of motion and futile commotion - a camera captured shotgun vainly chambering convicted shells in the breach on the beach in endless quacking screech of 'Baby! What's mein aim'!?

The interrogatively rolling yarn ended with 'Call me Big Brother *Dick' .
Reminiscent of the true guiding rule - 'Turn. Or burn'. - projected by the indomitable Jews upon the Nazis of WW II.
Beginning in the Warsaw Ghetto; ending - with the *Big Bang Gang Meister - in Berlin.

Rounding off Hollywood Squares humming behind bars of beguiled X files.

How many other good books have you written lately? :idea:

You were remiss in excluding the augmented editorial rendition. : )
 
Speaking of allusive alliteration, yours include sundry ways to spell and rhyme musical - and fish scaled - hiccups. Your shivering shaft of bygone thought for example, reminiscent of a present poltroon who fancies himself a Blake authored, striped menace - after recently morphing into an origami inspired fortune cookie beside a serving of Chinese quisined alley cat. Reading your own Quixotic matricidal mind aloud while spinning end over end, locomotive-over-caboose, sandwiching a plagiarizing pack of potty paralyzed passengers prey to hither & skelter quisling laws of motion and futile commotion - a camera captured shotgun vainly chambering convicted shells in the breach on the beach in endless quacking screech of 'Baby! What's mein aim'!?

The interrogatively rolling yarn ended with 'Call me Big Brother *Dick' .
Reminiscent of the true guiding rule - 'Turn. Or burn'. - projected by the indomitable Jews upon the Nazis of WW II.
Beginning in the Warsaw Ghetto; ending - with the *Big Bang Gang Meister - in Berlin.

Rounding off Hollywood Squares humming behind bars of beguiled X files.

How many other good books have you written lately? :idea:

You are a hoot ! Can you read the language or are you a slave to the word? Turtles do stand on turtles is the thing . Yeah Way. It is the building of the great house . They don't just build them selves you know . Lots of people contribute in very profound ways . The turtle holding the world you could say is more like the tip of the spear and when it is broken off the next turtle in line takes there place . A lot like the pattern of geese flying south for the winter.
As far as anal fixations go , I don't like anything near my hole . It does make Me full of anxiety even if it is just one finger. I can't imagine a full double handed open fists clapping. With the plagiarism you speak of I am sure you must be most familiar
 
You are a hoot ! Can you read the language or are you a slave to the word? Turtles do stand on turtles is the thing . Yeah Way. It is the building of the great house . They don't just build them selves you know . Lots of people contribute in very profound ways . The turtle holding the world you could say is more like the tip of the spear and when it is broken off the next turtle in line takes there place . A lot like the pattern of geese flying south for the winter.
As far as anal fixations go , I don't like anything near my hole . It does make Me full of anxiety even if it is just one finger. I can't imagine a full double handed open fists clapping. With the plagiarism you speak of I am sure you must be most familiar


Nobody said you had to commit seppuku right away.

Without anything near your proud abyss of narcissisticaly subjected orifice, you may be overdue for a personal proctological charicature demonstration of the big bang, thereby obliging many sobriquet heretics to believe in it - and you - after all. From a safe distance, of course.

Since the Constitution-sacking imposition of the Orwellian crowned 'Home Security' and 'Patriot Acts', the recording of the event may be accomplished via micro-wave radar, even should it occur in the sanctity of your potty mouthed bathroom. Although everyone cannot be placed on TV simultaneously, thousands of randomly 'targeted' individuals can - with the instrumentation of computers of course. No cameras or other conventional audio-visual equipment will be damaged in the making of that excrementally monumental history. For more details on this information gathering miracle, feel free to reference TV THAT WATCHES YOU, at:

http://forums.delphiforums.com/mollyspup/messages/?msg=2.1

A brief documentary authored by Truly Yours, over a quarter century before what had previously been a laughing matter of scorn, into what has, since 9/11/01, become an everday reality. Viz., without a judge's order or due cause, anyone may be placed on satellite reconnaissance 24/7/365. Likewise, under the same (ass-over-tea-kettle, universally impersonal) 'amendment', your phone(s) may likewise be tapped.

Incidentally, hi flying V formation geese and ducks create an aerodynamic foil. And yes, they do take turns flying at the foremost locations.

Moreover, the reason the V formation will sometimes exhibit one longer line and one shorter line is because there are more ducks or geese in the longer line, and less in the shorter line, depending on the prevailing atmospherically dynamic vector... : )

Regarding turtles as dark matter or quintessence, et al, well, mebbe someone else can help you with that.
 
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Nobody said you had to commit seppuku right away.

Without anything near your proud abyss of narcissisticaly subjected orifice, you may be overdue for a personal proctological charicature demonstration of the big bang, thereby obliging many sobriquet heretics to believe in it - and you - after all. From a safe distance, of course.

Since the Constitutiion-sacking imposition of the Orwellian crowned 'Home Security' and 'Patriot Acts', the recording of the event may be accomplished via micro-wave radar, even should it occur in the sanctity of your potty mouthed bathroom. Although everyone cannot be placed on TV simultaneously, thousands of randomly 'targeted' individuals can - with the instrumentation of computers of course. No cameras or other conventional audio-visual equipment will be damaged in the making of that excrementally monumental history. For more details on this information gathering miracle, feel free to reference TV THAT WATCHES YOU, at:

http://forums.delphiforums.com/mollyspup/messages/?msg=2.1

A brief documentary authored by Truly Yours, over a quarter century before what had previously been a laughing matter of scorn, into what has, since 9/11/01, become an everday reality. Viz., without a judge's order or due cause, anyone may be placed on satellite reconnaissance 24/7/365. Likewise, under the same (ass-over-tea-kettle, universally impersonal) 'amendment', your phone(s) may likewise be tapped.

Incidentally, hi flying V formation geese and ducks create an aerodynamic foil. And yes, they do take turns flying at the foremost locations.

Moreover, the reason the V formation will sometimes exhibit one longer line and one shorter line is because there are more ducks or geese in the longer line, and less in the shorter line, depending on the prevailing atmospherically dynamic vector... : )

Regarding turtles as dark matter or quintessence, et al, well, mebbe someone else can help you with that.

I am counting on it . I am going to change human perception based on this very idea . The V formation is being built as we speak in more ways than one for Golly gee mister wizard I learned the law of rumors and how through underground networking not based in media blitzing information can be transmitted by hypnotic suggesting . So do I mean what i say ? or is the nonsense meant to spark the thought of the individual trapped in the loop of existing structures . Big bro is watching Me I am sure, seeing how taxes have become a poblemo in my modern life . Yet there seems to be some kind of delay time from when the events occur to when the hammer falls. Like the curiosity is just to alluring . What you gonna do , What you gonna do when they come for you
 
Glamour India, this is Steel Xray: we have contact. Over.

A review of post #30, page three, follows, culminating into the latest 'incredible, paranoid schizophrenic, pompous, idiosyncratic' news...
--------------------------------------------

Originally Posted by chimpkin
I'm not a theoretical physicist.*shrug* Besides that, if you live on disability or social security in the US, you don't have enough money, so I rather thought your life could be practically improved by creating something marketable.

Why are you presenting your ideas to people in the science and society forum who aren't versed in theoretical physics and expecting them to be able to evaluate your work for merit?

Your use of language is both incredibly pompous and idiosyncratic.
You seem to be quite paranoid and grandiose.
I rather assumed you wouldn't accept any feedback, because I strongly suspect you to be incapable of receiving feedback of any sort, be it environmental or interpersonal, and altering your behavior based on it; this being one of the cardinal characteristics of the personality-disordered individual.

As I said, I'm not evaluating your work. My background is psychology/sociology/ social science.
Although my suspicion is that theoretical physicists won't look at your work because it's not worth taking seriously.
Therefore you accost random people on the internet with it in a rather desperate attempt to maintain your inflated ego and keep yourself convinced of your own brilliance.

From the wikipedia page on Narcissistic Personality Disorder:


http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Narciss...ality_disorder

The math/physics forum is down a bit, perhaps you'll have better luck there? ”
--------------------------------------------------

Good to hear more from you, Chimpkin, you also, Neverwill & Dwy:

You have reminded me that this is a 'Science and Society' forum. On that note and by Fraggle Rocker's hoped for acceptance, please consider the following communications...

You may be pleased to hear me say that your 'diagnoses' (plural), however cybernetically handicapped, is indeed for the most part, familiar - however self aggrandizing and flawed.

It's sort of like having participated in the failed invasion at the Bay of Pigs, in May of '61, and not having a word of it in yer service record. No credentials. Most people in and out of the military 'know' that 'no Americans took part in the Bay of Pigs invasion' (not to be confused with the 'missile crisis' of October '62, where not a shot was fired). 'Who is one to believe? You, or the Navy?, etceteras.

After 25 years, then Congressman Leon E. Panetta (of the 17th federal district) acquired my ('classified') Expeditionary papers. I will not belabor you with the gauntlets imposed on me for a quarter century, for not having any proof that I endured a portion of what was meted out to the Castro opposition at that time and place. The naysayers and sundry antagonists who had previously denigrated me as various kinds of 'charleton' and 'pretender', etc., were sincerely disappointed when Mr. Panetta empowered me to produce documentary proof - and Expeditionary and National Defense - accredations.

Of course, if that congressman's name is familiar to you, it is because, out of over 400 congresspeople, he went on to become the Chief of Staff of the White House, and is presently the incumbent Director of the C.I.A. Hence, the Expeditionary Medal and documents he bestowed upon me is a rare bureaucratic event. That is, Leon E. Panetta's 1985 vintaged signature is on my 'recovered' Expeditionary papers.

Conclusion: those odds who wagered the Navy against me, lost their bets.

I was no longer a 'charleton', or 'pretender', etceteras. A lot of former antagonists (especially in the VFW) continue to dine at the RoadKill Cafe, on a lot of crow, on that note.

The very telling of that story may be 'evaluated' by you as further evidence of what you have described as 'grandiose' (delusions, etc). But then, since that story is true, such a 'diagnosis' would be - and is - false, grandiose and pretentious.


Regarding your interpretation of my usage of language as being 'pompous and idiosyncratic'. That's one myopic way of misunderstanding it. On the other hand, that 'diagnosis' on your part does not allow for hyperbole.

Humor is a quality of the human condition - an impoverishment you brandish, having nothing to do with speculated SSI incomes or discounted, impotent (criminal weapons possession distinguished) shots in the night.

Although I have indeed dwelled on gravitational matters for over 50 years, levity is not outside my idiosyncratic parameters. Your implied qualification as a (self appointed) 'profiler' is under your own hotly forged hammer(s), on such (optionally amusing) issues.

Science & Society (are inseparable, after all), continued:

Moving right along, please consider the import of the following information:

Re: Total Field Theory: Reinstatement of Cosmological Constant & Steady State Theories - a message from a reader of an earlier forum:

"Thank you for this post, I especially like how you shaped your post like a comment a professor would leave on a midterm, that was appropriate, I feel truely blessed and scolded for being your student. - Unify"

Originally Posted by RascalPuff
"Dear Unify:
In my experience, it's a good idea to post work and not concern yourself with a 'community' of conflicting ideas, thoughts and theories. There's a heap of 'in-fighting' underway 'in-ranks', and 'outsiders' are also a serious threat to established reputations.

Theoretical physics is in a highly confused and utterly contentious transition in this era. You will note that there is a culminating (if coy and camouflaged) return to Einstein's formerly abandoned work. (The 'expanding universe' is Accelerating...)

This trend, I submit, will continue, and, Einstein's formerly abandoned Unified Field (Cosmological Constant) will be reinstated, as I predicted in published, copyrighted and distributed manuscripts (in three languages) more than fifty years ago."


-----------------------------------------------

Theoretical physics has always had some opposing views within its academic parameters, while, in the past 40 or so years, and particularly the past 20, and more particularly the past 10 years, there is much less agreement and much more diverse disagreement, confusion, and yes, chaos, then ever before...

You are cordially invited to 'diagnose', or otherwise evaluate, if you will, the following example of how far out - 'desperately grandiose' & 'unmarketable' - the (obsolete) 'scientific community' has ventured: presented by Truly Yours for public evaluation (excluding the vanity of 'Me-Ki-Gal's' mojo of 'underground networking and hypnotic suggestion' - MKG's, apparently oblvious station of ignorance that her affectionately adopted Big Brother Dick blitzed himself with a self-inflicted .45 caliber gunshot wound to the head, December 1999, upon learning that his experimental rumor & hearsay motivated Magnum Opus was typographically transcribed from a series of self incrimating phone conversations - after the intrigue bloated stalking paper tiger's 28 year old son perused the transcripts and heard the audio tape recording: soaked himself with gasoline and immolated himself in his wife's North Hollywood condominium, on 11 September 1991: exactly ten years to the day, before 9/11/01 (for those cultivated cultists endeared to satanic rituals and nefarious numerology).

Douglas, my favorite nephew, incurred 3rd degree burns on his entire body with the exception of his face and groin. He died six weeks later, on Haloween day, 1991. All of Dick Robertson's incumbent advocates are, under Title 18 of the Federal Code on conspiracy: accessories to the - still ongoing - fact(s) - in response to Me-Ki-Gal's inquiry of what will be done when they come for the described collaborators, who can be abundantly accounted for via a prolific abundance of emails, without statutes of limitation )...

Here's hoping the Moderator(s) allow this 'rant': to be continued...
---------------------------------------------

Summarily, in light of yesterday's international news release, the man (Leon E. Panetta) whose September, 1985 dated signature is on my recovered, 25 year 'belated' Expeditionary (formerly CIA classified - 5/'61, Bay of Pigs - combat) credentials, is in transitional appointment by the President, from his incumbent station as the Director of the C.I.A., to become the next Secretary of Defense.

With that information and other recently transmitted & received data, I am presently and for the first time in fifty years, permitted to reveal and otherwise publicly state that, as an assault boat Coxswain - with 'command authority' (at age 19) - I was responsible for all personnel and ordnance on my (LCVP) vessel, and, out of 32 on board reconnaissance missioned infantrymen who went ashore, only 16 returned.

Any further epithets, cryptically veiled threats or other (continued) denigrating gesticulations directed this way - by whomever - will only add more diabolically motivated dishonor (and a lot more intel than your mere isp coordinates, addresses and phone numbers) to the unfolding history of your grandiosely motivated effort, as it may continue to vacantly gratify and otherwise empower yourself, in this 'little forum and thread' - this portion of which you and your rat-packing acolytes have already made an irrevocable portion of 'my' eleventh book (With sincere compliments to Fraggle Rocker, SciWriter, quinnsong & unnamed others).

Of course it would all be pompous, delusionary & grandiose paranoid schizphrenia (etceteras): if it wasn't true.


Best regards,
- Kent (aka, etceteras)
 
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