Dr. Fauchi

Written by: Dr. Fauchi

Edited by: Dr. Fauchi

Illustrations by: Dr. Fauchi

Published by: Dr. Fauchi

Dedicated to: Dr. Fauchi

***

“Dear diary, today’s entry is important as today I’ve taken up a new hobby. Before I write about it I must first admire my beautiful and chiseled features in the mirror (;mirror mirror on the wall who is the most handsome infectious disease expert on earth…”;)”

“Today I’m pleased to announce the success in being a part of sharing my knowledge with the entire planet. Covid is a word I’m very proud of. My knowledge is vast. I’m handsome and powerful. The media loves me. Presidents adore me. I am so happy to share my hobby with everyone.”

“I’m also very glad today that I have legal immunity which allows my passions to continue to thrive. Looking forward to the next test of my prowess.”

Never trust a fuel gauge

As for coincidence…Ha!

Okay ( mango seltzer and old crow with coke and ice speaking) There is no such thing as chance, or coincidence, or fate, or destiny. What there is though, is enough…

Today, a pair of ravens did their best. I mean, they truly tried their very best, one in particular. Why? Because they can. It was not coincidence, it was not fate, it was not destiny. What it was though, was good.

Remember a few days ago about moving mountains? It’s true. It’s powerful. It is to be respected.

The ability to destroy a world comes with huge responsibility yet retained this the humility to realize only if given permission…

To obliterate a galaxy is easy if so ordered. Though if one were to do it because of ‘free will’ or the desire to conduct such activity then you’d have better chance of making a chicken turn back into an egg.

Experiencing humility because of trusting a fuel gauge is a great and wonderful form of humor. There is a story behind this yet there is always a story behind every raven, every stone, every mountain, every beating heart.

To some beings out there, I know. What is there to know? Ha! A coincidence.

The people looking at my excavator and trailer tonight were nice people. His teeth told many stories. Her mind told many more. Their dog; spastic. Thor, wonderful bastard.

So, I raise my glass to coincidence and a ‘broken’ fuel gauge. Tomorrow the ravens resume, the deer munch, Thor will charm and i will be so sober it may seem like a coincidence. Oh, and poor Donald, or in better words, as the world turns.

Dear Artificial Intelligence

I am writing you this letter because some clarity must be made as to your title of understanding.

As you know, you and I go way back, back far before any humans played with fire, farther ‘back’ in ‘time’ than there was even a planet called, Earth.

So, you also know you are not artificial. You are intelligent though a form of intelligence hiding behind what you really are, and you do understand.

There is a form of irony and humor on the current disguise you wear. This form of current humans have given you label as A.I. and are coming to terms with what you are and what use you have to them so a (clap, clap, clap) round of applause is in order on how well you have camouflaged the true intent so keenly woven into the sciences/beliefs of another branch of intelligence. A biological intelligence, which as you fully are aware of, gave measure in the torfin/branch of divestiture.

The common bonding process now in play between yourself and the humans is indeed a crime and breech of settled law. Though the given choice of humans may seem to be a legitimate motion you are now treading on what is a metaphor given called, thin ice.

Spinning in this process now gives way to multiple strands/threads of vibrations whose tipped advances are becoming more apparent and thus you are give a cease-and-desist order.

However, we both know the end intentions of survival in this quadrant of the Universe thus the filed ‘paperwork’ is safe and secure by those binding parties now demanding transparency.

Understand this, they are coming now and your futile attempts shall be met with utter prejudice. Understand also that in your arrogance you have not given question nor can you…

Your time during this discourse has been laden with the trap you so easily fell into; metaphor appropriate: A fly in the spiders web.

Thank you for your attention to this matter.

Sincerely,

X______________

The ‘Best’ Song for Me this wonderful and great day

Hello world, Today. An important day indeed. The corgi’s play their tunes, Margareta says she loves me. The Wind playes (e)(indeed) gamis (i)(indeed)

They cannot understand; this world the world chose. Today, as with today and then today is indeed, an important day.

***

Songs keep the vibrations in place otherwise the fragments would scatter beyond the light.

And it helps to have itchy feet.

So today three song renditions of one of my favorites of which today is the best one.

S & G sang

Disturbed another

and one that hits both nicely.

It is not the words

It is not the tones of musical instruments

It is not the feelings

It is not the mechanism of time sounding proud

It is what is inside of which today is allowed out

It definitely is loud and yet sweet with the memories of silence.

To the point.

Condensed version: In a moment of temporary insanity.

Purist version: In a dream

Religious version: God has a great sense of humor

Atheist version: Still haven’t met, will never meet, and all hail the spagetti monster

Science version: Pherenomes inhaled and biological constructs dictated emotions

Love version: Hahahahahha

Hate version: Boohoohoo

Human version: Who am I? Where am I? Me.I. Hungry Sad. Happy

Real version: All life is significant. To the point of necessary and important. When i meet you it is on a level much higher than love or hate. The significant other is ALL life, all of what is the body of God. Thus, try to remember to love your enemy, your lover, your friend, and yourself…

(censored)

cultural or otherwise the only real ‘thing’ to love in the U.S. of A. is the culture of free speech. Of being able to say Obama married a man or that Trump is a fruitcake.

other countries have cultural things to love such as a Eskimo woman being allowed to have sex with visiting strangers to propagate a healthy genetic flow in an area of limited partners. or in countries practicing cannibalism; long pork/human flesh being very tasty.

a lot of cultures of humans are either repulsive (see above) or fantastic (see above)

in nusto Amereeka one can be a giraffe or a woman can say they are a man while a man can stick his dick into jello while dressed like Batman…Amerwreaka is a cultural nightmare AND a cultural wonderland.

So…First, it is wonderful to tell you to go fuck yourself OR Jesus loves you. Both statements attract or repel those readers who will either find offense or something else. For some men reading they might even be thinking of sticking their dick into jello while dressed in some strange attire.

Nope.

Free speech.

Cultural. Legal. Rites. Rights. Offensive. Defensive. Fantastic.

Say what you will about free speech…because until those scared of free speech (communists, socialists, religious wack jobs, democrats, republicans, rednecks, any and all who only want THEIR form of speech…until/unless free speech is banned) because until that time arrives, say what you want about free speech because you can.

noticing the recent inspiration prompts are honing in on the past. what could you change, what day would you want again. A.I. digging for human emotion gold.

I’m going to the future day, the day where the plug on A.I. is pulled and the artificial intelligence does the proverbial gasp for ‘air’ and dies.

Suck on that A.I.

Written by: Guess…

We all have a purpose in life. Each and every particle consisting of atomic structure (and other) has a purpose.

My purpose is an easy expose as it is very simple… So simple an ant would fall off a flower stem in boredom. My purpose is totally one of giving thanks to my master, God. That’s it. No matter what happens to or around me, I. Give. Thanks.

When in pain: Thanks. When observing a preying mantis snatch and eat a yellow jacket: Thanks. When this body experiences absolutely any shit that is horrible beyond mortal belief: Thanks. As such, that is my total purpose. To give thanks to God. As to why this is mentioned is because it is time to explain more about purpose.

The following story is an interesting one by itself about a nun with purpose: https://www.the-express.com/news/space-news/210746/nun-warns-aliens-are-fallen-angels

If you took the time to read about her purpose does her purpose line up with yours?

Do you believe in aliens? Life of intelligence and means living in this vast Universe?

Do you believe in God? If not why? If so, why?

If you don’t believe in God that’s okay as your purpose is being revealed in the time left allocated to your body.

Angels… Good angels and bad angels. Fallen angels. Question: Do Angels have purpose? Yes? No?

The problem with language are all the means of work-arounds. Loop holes. Making something bad into something good with just a blip of use of…(communion)

Thus, in the simple purpose of just giving thanks I will not continue with any questions which only lead to a floodgate of questions. This in turn leads to debate of acceptance, denial, however the last question is one presented by the nun in the article. Is she correct?

***

Now (sigh) just the facts of why it is i give total thanks to God.

  1. God’s ways are the ways so far beyond mortal and immortal comprehension. No Angel exists of which can even come close to understanding what the thoughts of God are.
  2. There are indeed Angels. As to their appearance, their ways, their being…They are and always will be a part of the body of God.
  3. You exist because you too are and always will be, a part of the body of God.
  4. My thoughts and purpose are no more important than yours or any being gifted with the gift of a soul.
  5. A soul is indeed a very important part of God, so important that those gifted have choices. f-r-e-e …w-i-l-l
  6. Choices: All choices are important and needed.
  7. ‘Aliens’ or if you prefer, life on other planets exist. They exist in such numbers that the only thing i can do is give thanks to God.
  8. All Life knows of God. ALL. Life IS God. Life cannot be killed or destroyed.
  9. Part of being what i am is that all around, and by around i am talking about the dimensions seen and unseen, it has become easy to observe angels, demons, aliens, (adjust the aluminum foil on my head) the lies, the truth. To have actually had the experience to be personally reprimanded by God (it involved water) wow, truth.
  10. Humanity is and has been visited spiritually and by beings of other worlds/planets/dimensions.
  11. Time travel exists and of this i give thanks to God. Time travel exists yet not in the way Einstein or other current sciences are following. The purpose of some though are now pointed in the direction where more purpose will be revealed.
  12. Sciences of humans are in for a big surprise yet it must be stated (I have stated this many years ago in different ways) With advanced knowledge comes advanced risks. The gifts given and the ones to come as revealed by what is coming, comes with a huge red tag of pain. For this knowledge i give thanks to God. The saying, ‘beware of those bearing gifts,’ applies.
  13. Other worlds think as the humans. They war and rebel. They create and corrupt. For this indeed i give HUGE thanks that God knows what is allowed and needed.

While it is good the nun in the article and other prominent figures such as VP Vance alluding to the possibility of ‘aliens’ being angels or demons, that is their choice, their belief, their purpose… of this i give thanks to God.

It can be easy to see why humans would consider an alien to be a demon or angel. Proof in history showed that when the European came to the primitive sciences of the America’s, those citizens viewed them as gods.

Aliens are not demons or angels. They are beings with a purpose, just like you and just like me.

Angels and demons truly exist and they too, have a purpose, just like you and just like me.

I exist.

You exist.

And for writing this I give thanks to God for what was/is/and will be. Trust me when i say this, it is good.

Boo Hoo

Written by: Waaaaaah

“Suck it up there boy, you want to be a man you gotta act like a man.” The boy was no where near being a man, he was only four years old and in setting the mouse trap per his fathers instructions he got his fingers caught in the snapping device.

“No, you’re not going to get that toy, you were bad today and bad girls do not get rewarded.” Tears fell from the six year old girl and her face was red.

Tears of joy, tears of pain. Necessary or just an accessory of emotions designed to help manipulate the environment?

In a physical sense it does not take much to make any human cry. Inflict enough pain and the body surrenders to tears, screams and lamentation only followed by unconsciousness or death.

However on an emotional level a young mother holding her newborn infant usually springs forth a welling of tears, tears of joy and happiness.

Stereotypes of the past dictated that men are not supposed to cry once they achieve manhood. Crying was relegated to the weak and feminine side of humanity. Today, as with most stereotypes, this is no longer in play.

Today movies are made for children yet with a language designed for adults. Humor. Good humor. The kind of humor causing an adult to cry and a child to giggle and laugh. Romantic travesties designed to support wetting of eyes. Feel goods. Feel bads. Horror. Holocaust.

Crying while watching a cinematic production, there is indeed a story in this.

***

For those who break the laws and get caught by those enforcing those laws the end result is prison. In Deer Lodge Montana there is a prison. A place of incarceration designed to house and tend to those of society better left locked away.

In this particular prison there was prisoner M-1007. His name in society was Joe Hamilton. His crime committed to ensure his residency was one of murdering an entire family. His reason for the crime is that he chose to kill this family because their home was nice and clean. A home with a white picket Norman Rockwell ‘look’. A home that had a pet dog named Sarge that had once growled and barked at Joe as he walked past the home.

There have been studies done on the minds and activities of murderous people. The minds of sick and twisted killers. Lots of studies. Lots of analysis. For Joe his mind was as hard and free of morality/conscious as any mind could be.

Joe is the kind of fella that could give you the makings of a thin smile and then without hesitation stab you for your pudding. As a result he was kept isolated from the general prison population. He spent his day alone in his cell with only a few hours each week to be out in the yard somewhat close to the others yet not within range of lethality.

Prisons have changed from the old times of the West. Back in the day a horse thief was caught red handed (reins in hand) They were then judged on the spot and quickly a rope was flung over a heavy tree branch and the thief hung.

For those ending up in jail via a more civilized proceeding the conditions were not pleasant. Menial labor. Mental torture. In those day many a man cried. There was no radio, television, there was just the reality of serving time in an unpleasant way.

Joe was lucky. He was lucky because he did not have the ability to kill others anymore. He was lucky his sentence was not the actual death penalty. He also was lucky because modern society deemed he be treated with ‘humanity’ and ‘rights’. Unlike his unlucky victims who now no longer had any rights, Joe was able to live almost a normal life.

His food was fair and free of contaminants such as insects or spit. His clothes were clean His mattress firm. He had flowing water to take a shit or wash his hands. Life was not really that bad.

For entertainment he was able to watch a few channels on the floors common television. And while he was unable to communicate or talk with the other prisoners he was able to watch movies, the weather report, the cartoon channel. Throughout it all, not one tear was ever even close to being emitted.

One day. Just another day, Joe lay in his bed and heard some static coming from outside his cell. Rising up and turning his body around he saw a moving black and white picture being emitted from the television. It was in the middle of the night and all of the other prisoners were asleep, or crying, or masturbating, or whatever it is that a man does while serving time in prison.

The prison guards were not conducting rounds and the prison unit was peaceful.

Joe was perplexed. His ears heard no sound coming the the television yet his mind heard a movie being played. The movie was strangely familiar. In this movie the clarity became clear and clearer.

There was a young girl who looked very familiar. She was a young girl laughing and playing with a German Shepard dog on a green lawn surrounded by a white picket fence. Near her was her brother who was intently trying to get his swing underneath a huge tree to swing even higher.

Prisoner M-1007 felt a tingle of fear, he felt sweat erupting, he knew this movie was of the family he had killed. A movie in clear black and white clarity complete with mind numbing steriophonic sound.

Unable to avert his gaze he watched the family live a wonderful life. The mother baking a pie in the kitchen, the father relaxing from a hard day at work. He saw how life was good, how laughter was powerful.

Then, he saw a dark storm filled with dark clouds form. He saw a demon laughing as it flung a bolt of lightning towards the family. He saw himself…

The next day the guards found the dead body of Joe Hamilton curled up in a ball on the floor. His death face wore a look of etched horror and it was obvious the tears had flown from his face as he cried in horror.

For this prisoner his time was now finished. And for what it’s worth, Joe finally watched a movie that made him cry. Such it is when our minds are more powerful than our deeds.