Fledgling goon
alan jones
This callow youth, this pimple face demon, this fledgling goon....
Saw him today, he who was not suppose to be there, the interloper
with no valid rational beyond a lie.
He doesn't live there he said, He doesn't know who's banging,
He has a new house he said, yet there he was as bold as brass,
entering that otherwise empty property, obviously still in
possession of its keys, while claiming not to live there, the
shear nonsense of this statement.
Is this whom I've invested so much time in, this would be scare
crow, this fetal conscience? Is this whom the system trust to judge
and lay down the law? Inexperienced, a basic technical competence
i imagine, but little else.
Clicking and banging, the Pervayor of poisons and lies. Following
where he's lead with no thought, no questions asked, another
pronto-goon in the making, only following orders.
alan jones
The interloper returns. The same old ploy of disease and noise,
hiding in the plausible, that brew to infect, allied with noise
to take advantage of its congesting effects.
Without notice the current inhabitants go, as he returns, the
same callow shallow pretense which none should suspect. Back to
finish what he'd started, snatching at this opportunity. There
is no thought here, no thought beyond this stage, no thought on
those much weaker, with whom I'll share. The community at large
must suffer for his blind orders.
Disease and noise, so it goes, its again that time for judgment.
[Hiding as the common cold, lying in wait as hay fever, dismissed
as just the flu, that designer brew none suspect until its steals
all our future.]
alan jones
X & Y suddenly leaves, as Z returns...
Z resumes, as X & Y discovers their supplied motives were a lie,
their sought reactions, expected behaviors, without just cause.
Its z back to banging, now with no real cause, just a script
which requires him to bang on the half hour, every hour from
dusk till dawn. Heartless thoughtless, just following orders.
Its that odd situation again, as judgment calls are made
elsewhere. A situation aided by an ethos which presumes what
one sees, is as all one needs to know. No one inquires on
circumstance.
Oddly circumstance is presumed to be normal. A comfortable idea
of normal, as him and his kind, disrupt sleep and peace. Its the
exploitation of that black box science. Its orthodoxy detaching
the observer from any need of the question.
One no longer ask, instead one observes with presumptions of the
ideal. Comparing like with disliked, none the wiser for this
science, just backwards.
The irony as a science founded on behavior is used to hide so
many covert unknown behaviors. It supplying reason, in a feedback
loop where the unknown is kept a mystery.
So it goes, in the shadows so no one knows. Too fantastic for
words, as a popular definition detaches us, from what we see[k].
Its all so fantastic but still one tries..