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Recorded Reading (7:07): https://www.dropbox.com/scl/fi/keed9d4rf33gf6x6chiwi/Clownship.m4a?rlkey=qd47rbmkh4zdlkjjvk2xod6ma&dl=0

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(Readers who have been following the offerings on this site over the last couple of weeks know that we’ve been discussing the possible imminence of what Western Biblical prophecies have termed “The separation of the worlds.”

Those who just wandered in will find details via search bar in “A Correspondence Worth Printing,” “What She Sees I & II,” And “Visions of Nova Terra I – XIV.”

So far, we have explored imagery associated with three of the four destinations postulated by us after that shift: the developing fifth dimensional Earth (“Visions” series), the moulted, static and decaying third dimensional shell (“Low Rent Lifestyle” series, “Tammany Hall,” “Superiority,” and “Class Dismissed”), and the transfiguration of death itself (“Fall and Rise of the Serf”).

The fourth potential destination we listed is that of the motherships here to assist from dimensions sometimes as high as the twelfth, beyond which any physicality, as we understand its embodiment, is both tricky and risky.

For introductory comments on these helpful presences we access the testimony of writers in human consciousness ascension ~ the same ones which, as we’ve pointed out, predicted our presently wandering magnetic poles, NASA’s “BOAT,” the COVID crisis and current ecological, economic and political changes planetwide.

They are manned by creatures entirely different than those reported to be involved in human experimental abductions ~ and a short digression to discuss the contrasting nature of the abducting ships is entirely germaine to the collage being put together for readers here of post-shift possibilities.

Abducting ships come from a civilization which is now very much as will be the moulted third dimensional earthly shell.

They have persisted in a condition regarded by the galactic community as dangerously backward ~ and control measures have been instituted, as protocol indicates in such situations.

This means that the “greys,” as they are called among human visionaries for convenience, continue ~ as will citizens of third dimension Earth ~ convinced that they are alone in the universe except for isolated extraplanetary civilizations about on a developmental par with their own: sufficiently advanced to pose a potential threat to the whole, with further development counterindicated.

Their space program is developed without benefit of galactic technologies. Their planet is limited for food and energy to its own resources. And their fertility rate has been artificially reduced (something, if you ask any urologist, Terran males are beginning to experience as well, in high numbers).

Unaware of the genetic engineering put into effect by higher galactic authority, the “greys” are conducting their experiments to discover the secret of our fertility, so that they can hope to duplicate it in themselves.

Ships from this civilization enjoy a ratio to the total of helpful extraterrestrial presences above the skies of our planet, according to writers in human consciousness ascension, roughly comparable to a child’s traveling pocket sack of marbles, in a marble warehouse.

These writers assure us that as soon as we find ourselves on board the galactic ships ~ of a truly astounding size and variety, some being actually sentient beings themselves, grown organically in space ~ one is amazed by an enormous increase of two things between the people around one:

Love.

And laughter.)

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Clownship

There’s something you should know
If you are going to hang around:
To be happy on this starship
You have to be a clown

Plenty in this fleet
Conventionally ser’ious are ~
You might be more comfortable
On one from a soberer star

Each gives its special service
In the general motif,
On this ship ours just happens
To be comical relief

Not all their ships are grown, like ours,
Organic’lly in space
So when something goes wrong, those ships
Don’t get up in their face

Like ours, demanding justice
And a second cup of tea
And someone with solutions
Immediately!

Now, that creates some tensions
For their pilots, yes it do,
And everybody knows that tension
Isn’t good for you

It’s then they find our operators
Tend to come around
Patrolling like some Keystone Cops
For any anxious frown

To give ourselves due credit
We’re true professionals —
Wherever inner balance
And reaction worry dulls

We swing right into action
Beleaguered souls to bless
With grounding and self-centering
In the form of silliness

We’re passionate at what we do
Once our work we have begun
We don’t give up until that soul
Remembers how to have some fun!

You can imagine, this affects
Life aboard our home ship some
It can be disconcerting
Depending on what world you’re from

Will you be freshemelled,
Can you take it in your stride,
When the farce of daily life
Gets broad — and deep and wide?

When some mischievous shadow
Past its owner come
Not only outpacing him
But from the ceiling hung?

When pillows make contented sounds
Every time you sit on them
And all the staff sashays around
Dressed exclusively on whim?

When, finally exhausted,
Into a comfy chair you fall,
You find some silly joke has been
Compressed into your wall?

Are you the kind of person
Instinctive understands
Some days one just prefers to go
Instead of feet, upon ones hands?…

You say you’re seldom serious
And that you go on your hands too
Whenever the upended mode
Tends to come over you

And that you’re just as silly,
You’re willing right here now to bet,
As even the silliest
Kind of silly gets to get?

I like the way you put that!
Yes, I see potential here —
Go ahead and get on board
I’m stamping you “All Clear!”

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