I was born in 1947. In 1974, the aliens landed again on Earth and said "Take us to your Leaders!" No one can do anything about just masses and masses of walking feet. Not armies. Not patriots. Not crime fighters. Louder than the thunder of the Hell's Angels, less obvious than the motors of the Paparazzi, the Western world fell to hordes of hush puppies, tennis and jogging shoes, to flower children and iron-willed golfers, walking across the greens.
In that year, 1974, I had a dream. In the dream, it was night. I sat by a window during a night class on the campus. Suddenly, the stars in the sky above, swirled around and swooped down. They were airplanes. Airplanes that move in formation like constellations, across the sky at night or day. But as they did so, they emitted lethal rays on the cities below. They could control cars and planes flying at lower altitudes through remote control. A car, slowly turning a corner, suddenly flipped over, its four tires spinning in the air. Eventually, an ambulance pulled up. A woman was pulled from the wreck and a brace put on her neck.
The aliens have struck me again and again with weapons of war. I, on the other hand, have only intellectual and spiritual weapons to defend myself with. Over the years, I have learned that the aliens convey messages between themselves by actual events. For example, a year before the twin tower, WTC attack, my two front teeth suddenly crumbled and disintegrated, beamed on by the invisible radiation of airplanes high in the sky. Targets of the aliens are always designated by a reversal of symbols: For instance, 119- Sept. 11, which stands for terror is the reverse of 911, which stands for aid and support. Or, for example, Noah, the saver of DNA, is the reverse of Naoh-natrium hydroxide--a synonym for anthrax. Etc.
In 1974, the aliens aid to the leaders: "We're going to take over your country, but your personal situations will be o.k. There will be others, whose situations won't be o.k. They will beat the chests, pull out their hair, scream, shout and holler, but what concer will it be to you?"
So, in 1974, the aliens took over the world and the food supplies got low. But the leaders still had plenty of food to eat.
But the oceans didn't still have plenty of fish. It was not many leaders, though, who had not accepted some butter on their bread or blood money down the line, so the leaders turned their backs. And leaders can't worry about whether the poor people have oceans, at least, to look upon....
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Reviewed by Betty Rickard
11/9/2002
Excellent written so well..Just excellent!
Be blessed,
Betty
This chair is not your grandmother's rocking chair! In fact, you wouldn't want your grandmother or any loved one near it! So find a well lit room and enjoy an intense read of this Sci-Fi thriller.
