More UNITED than we realize!

Elenin....

Well if Nasa and Youtube are to be believed, it will not be long before Elenin and her massive dirty tale will be in our hood......possibly flailing us with all kinds of nasty debri, messing with the sun and earth...since I do not have a telescope, nor know much about these things, I wonder how much of it is accurate, how much is fear creation.....or even if she really exists....thoughts?

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Permalink Reply by Vanese Va Voom on August 24, 2011 at 1:46am

I "like" that better than some other theories I have heard LOL!!!

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Permalink Reply by D.A.L.A.M.A.R. on August 24, 2011 at 11:39am

The captain cries: "Behold, the Star in the West!" Instant on that comes silence. But among us the sudden stirring warns me that not all were sleeping; that there were watchers like myself,men more intent than I.

I hear a murmur on my left. I catch three words: "The Zero Hour." They call me back to myself: I know now that I am one of a great army - an army baffled and broken, but yet in being.Sharp comes a whisper of swift absolute authority: "Zero is Two."

Somehow I am aware - like a man stricken of lightning, in the same moment slain and initiated - that the strange phrase declares a final Mystery of Truth, the Word of the Plan of Battle, the Key of the Campaign. But in my mind its meaning is most utter darkness.

Again the solemn stillness. Few were they who had heard the voice of the young captain: for the sleep of all but the youngest and strongest was the sleep of death. Even of these the fate was ill indeed; for their minds had been distraught by the bitterness of their hearts. So, when they noted the Voice, they mocked. I heard:

"A Star in the West. What folly!"or:"That is no voice of any leader of ours."or:

"Star in the West? Beware: that is the Star called Wormwood."

Hark! Yes, the few that are still alive have seen what rouses them to lift their crippled arms, to stare with blear bloods hot eyes, to jabber with broken jaw-bones and torn tongues."For Christ's sake," screams an emasculate rag of flesh,"don't look at that damned Star!""We're lost," another squeals."The Beast!" yells a third: maniac.

I too am appalled not a little. For on the moving fume scrawl monstrous and hideous shapes - frightful forms, detestable gestures. All past belief for loathsomeness: filling my mortal spirit with delirious fear. Beholding them, the wounded writhe indeadly anguish. Some crazily catch up the filth in which they a real ready half sunk to throw it at the spectre, thereby only to smear themselves more thickly in the face.Their impotent malice so exceeds itself that I am moved for a moment to laugh. At that, as at the Master-spell of a great sage, the charm is snapped: I soar into sanity.I must be simple indeed! How did I fail for a moment to understand that Broken-Spectres must be shadows cast by some Star, a Sun, upon sun-lifted vapours - that all these diverse shapes of madness are but distortions of one form upon the mountain-crest, a solitary shadow - the shadow of a Man!

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