Actually, that title’s just a figure of speech, because I certainly can believe it.

Many friends say that I’m super-smart, but they don’t know that 99.9% of the things I do are utter failures. These things run the gamut of literally everything done during the course of a day. Yes… everything.

For the past 50+ years.
It makes me cry.
It makes me want to die.



Dyatlov Pass Incident REOPENED By Authorities

Top Mysteries
Published on Mar 1, 2019

► The Dyatlov Pass Incident is one of the most bizarre if not one of the most terrifying events that have occurred in the last 60 years. This case is so perplexing that it has baffled experts for over half a century. Most excursions into nature are serene and act as a chance to escape the realities of day to day life for a while, but for an unfortunate few this is not the case. Some journeys end with such unfathomable and frightening circumstances that they become legend… As is found here when nine skiing enthusiasts met their end in the late 1950s. What makes this case so fascinating is that unlike some mysteries, there is little doubt that this event actually occurred; and further still, whatever happened here was nothing short of disturbing.

Much of the evidence exists in photos taken by investigators, but also in the extensive records of the Soviet military, who took a lead role in the investigation. Interesting to note is the fact that many of these records are still classified by the military today. Bizarrely, despite an overwhelming amount of physical evidence left behind, investigators were eventually forced to attribute the event to be a result of, and I quote “a compelling unknown force.”

Dyatlov Pass Incident REOPENED By Authorities

My links: ➥Patreon:…   ➥Subscribe:…   ➥Twitter:
► Music Credit & Permission by CO.AG:   ➥…
► Most footage is licensed to me, while some short clips are used under fair use.
► Sources: Click here   ➥…

This incident, the most inexplicable thing I have run across, matched only by the Missing 411 cases, has always occupied a spot towards the top of my top 5 favorite Fortean happenings. There is or was an excellent Russian site that I cannot recall but I have included it in a past post either here or on High Strangeness. I will see if I can find it.

The twists and turns your mind makes when you try and fathom what could possibly be so profoundly frightening, no, terrifying, to cause such behavior in some rather hardy people is tantalizing as an answer just does not come.

If the investigation is run as the filmmaker details, I am not holding out much hope for a solution. But, you never know.

Props to the filmmaker, this piece is really well done, as opposed to some loopy ones I have seen.

be well



4 Real-Life Modern Sightings That Prove Living Dinosaurs Still Exist

Dark Matter
Published on Aug 17, 2017

Around 65 million years ago, all Dinosaurs, and most of the co-surviving lifeforms supposedly went extinct. But according to certain witnesses, a few managed to survive. So, from the Raptors of the US, to the T-Rex of Australia, Join us…

If you enjoyed this video don’t forget to like, share and subscribe…

And follow us on Social Media to keep up with the latest videos…

Music Used:…

Thank you very much for watching, until next time…

I didn’t have much hope for this one because it has “prove” in the title. It’s not proof, of course, but it is very well done and the cases are well presented. I’m familiar with all but a precious few of the mentions. As for myself, I am definitely on board with all of these, especially the ones in the United States. Including the spiders… people relentlessly tell me of the allegedly natural limitation on their internal airways. I counter with the information that Mother Nature has little concern for the ideas of man.

be well




News from Science @NewsfromScience 9:30 AM – 13 Mar 2019

A global effort is growing to save the scaled mammals known as pangolins—the world’s most poached and trafficked animal.

These odd, scaled mammals are the most poached in the world—and they’re going extinct

By Amy Yee Mar. 13, 2019 , 8:00 AM

UGANDA—The small pangolin tucked its head toward its belly and curled its tail around its body. Clad in large scales, it resembled a pine cone. After a moment, the creature—a mammal, despite appearances—uncoiled and raised its slender head. Currantlike eyes blinked and a pointy nose trembled inquisitively. Its feet had tender pink soles tipped with long, curved claws, but it did not scratch or fight.

This animal, a white-bellied pangolin (Phataginus tricuspis), was lucky. It had most likely been illegally caught in a nearby forest not long ago; a tip had led the Uganda Wildlife Authority (UWA) to rescue it. One of its brown scales had been ripped off, perhaps for use in a local witchcraft remedy. But after a long, jarring car ride on bumpy dirt roads, the pangolin was being released back into the wild in a national park. (UWA officials asked Science not to reveal the park’s name because that might tip off poachers.) Weighing just 2.5 kilograms, the pangolin heaved as if panting.

The rescue and release was part of a growing global effort to save pangolins, which face a bleak future as the world’s most poached and trafficked animal. They are in demand for both their meat and their scales, believed in some Asian countries to have medicinal properties. The past 2 months have seen record-setting seizures of pangolin body parts both in Asia and Africa.

the rest of the story

It’s stuff like this that makes me extremely upset with Asians. They make everything we use, so they are not dumb, but, they are so damn pig-ignorant stupid to think so many animal parts are somehow “magical.” Even when faced with five freaking thousand years of evidence showing that their beliefs are naught but fairy tales. Disgusting. Every single one of them. And Africans! I did not know about people from that continent doing this, but I am frankly not surprised. I advocate killing them all and having God sort them out.

be well



Look, things are bad. And they are about to get worse. Please send what you can. This blog is soon going to lose tons of features because my eye medicine and food and keeping my house is more important. A little compassion would be appreciated. You all seem to like my content. I don’t ask for paid subscriptions. Please help with the occasional dollar or two. Unless you think I am worthless. I’m thinking that that is what you think, as it is always the same.




When a child gives you a gift,

even if it is a rock

they just picked up,

exude gratitude. It might be the only

thing they have to give – and they

have chosen to give it to you.

— Dean Jackson



Billions and billions of apo logies!

Wow, what a horrorshow! Right after I posted that nice lady it lost the connection and then the SHTF. It went from a stuck database type trip to server down. The boffins said I had overdone my content limit. I thought it was unlimited. They took a few files out. Yikes, which ones!? So it’s now back up, obviously. Gonna have to chang how I do this site, but I have a ton of pics and stuff, so it should be alright.

Felt so freaky deaky weird… yeesh.


Be well




Because I do not hope to turn again
Because I do not hope
Because I do not hope to turn
Desiring this man’s gift and that man’s scope
I no longer strive to strive towards such things
(Why should the agèd eagle stretch its wings?)
Why should I mourn
The vanished power of the usual reign?

Because I do not hope to know
The infirm glory of the positive hour
Because I do not think
Because I know I shall not know
The one veritable transitory power
Because I cannot drink
There, where trees flower, and springs flow, for there is
nothing again

Because I know that time is always time
And place is always and only place
And what is actual is actual only for one time
And only for one place
I rejoice that things are as they are and
I renounce the blessèd face
And renounce the voice
Because I cannot hope to turn again
Consequently I rejoice, having to construct something
Upon which to rejoice

And pray to God to have mercy upon us
And pray that I may forget
These matters that with myself I too much discuss
Too much explain
Because I do not hope to turn again
Let these words answer
For what is done, not to be done again
May the judgement not be too heavy upon us

Because these wings are no longer wings to fly
But merely vans to beat the air
The air which is now thoroughly small and dry
Smaller and dryer than the will
Teach us to care and not to care Teach us to sit still.

Pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death
Pray for us now and at the hour of our death.

Lady, three white leopards sat under a juniper-tree
In the cool of the day, having fed to sateity
On my legs my heart my liver and that which had been
In the hollow round of my skull. And God said
Shall these bones live? shall these
Bones live? And that which had been contained
In the bones (which were already dry) said chirping:
Because of the goodness of this Lady
And because of her loveliness, and because
She honours the Virgin in meditation,
We shine with brightness. And I who am here dissembled
Proffer my deeds to oblivion, and my love
To the posterity of the desert and the fruit of the gourd.
It is this which recovers
My guts the strings of my eyes and the indigestible portions
Which the leopards reject. The Lady is withdrawn
In a white gown, to contemplation, in a white gown.
Let the whiteness of bones atone to forgetfulness.
There is no life in them. As I am forgotten
And would be forgotten, so I would forget
Thus devoted, concentrated in purpose. And God said
Prophesy to the wind, to the wind only for only
The wind will listen. And the bones sang chirping
With the burden of the grasshopper, saying

Lady of silences
Calm and distressed
Torn and most whole
Rose of memory
Rose of forgetfulness
Exhausted and life-giving
Worried reposeful
The single Rose
Is now the Garden
Where all loves end
Terminate torment
Of love unsatisfied
The greater torment
Of love satisfied
End of the endless
Journey to no end
Conclusion of all that
Is inconclusible
Speech without word and
Word of no speech
Grace to the Mother
For the Garden
Where all love ends.

Under a juniper-tree the bones sang, scattered and shining
We are glad to be scattered, we did little good to each
Under a tree in the cool of day, with the blessing of sand,
Forgetting themselves and each other, united
In the quiet of the desert. This is the land which ye
Shall divide by lot. And neither division nor unity
Matters. This is the land. We have our inheritance.


At the first turning of the second stair
I turned and saw below
The same shape twisted on the banister
Under the vapour in the fetid air
Struggling with the devil of the stairs who wears
The deceitul face of hope and of despair.

At the second turning of the second stair
I left them twisting, turning below;
There were no more faces and the stair was dark,
Damp, jaggèd, like an old man’s mouth drivelling, beyond
Or the toothed gullet of an agèd shark.

At the first turning of the third stair
Was a slotted window bellied like the figs’s fruit
And beyond the hawthorn blossom and a pasture scene
The broadbacked figure drest in blue and green
Enchanted the maytime with an antique flute.
Blown hair is sweet, brown hair over the mouth blown,
Lilac and brown hair;
Distraction, music of the flute, stops and steps of the mind
over the third stair,
Fading, fading; strength beyond hope and despair
Climbing the third stair.

Lord, I am not worthy
Lord, I am not worthy

but speak the word only.

Who walked between the violet and the violet
Whe walked between
The various ranks of varied green
Going in white and blue, in Mary’s colour,
Talking of trivial things
In ignorance and knowledge of eternal dolour
Who moved among the others as they walked,
Who then made strong the fountains and made fresh the springs

Made cool the dry rock and made firm the sand
In blue of larkspur, blue of Mary’s colour,
Sovegna vos

Here are the years that walk between, bearing
Away the fiddles and the flutes, restoring
One who moves in the time between sleep and waking, wearing

White light folded, sheathing about her, folded.
The new years walk, restoring
Through a bright cloud of tears, the years, restoring
With a new verse the ancient rhyme. Redeem
The time. Redeem
The unread vision in the higher dream
While jewelled unicorns draw by the gilded hearse.

The silent sister veiled in white and blue
Between the yews, behind the garden god,
Whose flute is breathless, bent her head and signed but spoke
no word

But the fountain sprang up and the bird sang down
Redeem the time, redeem the dream
The token of the word unheard, unspoken

Till the wind shake a thousand whispers from the yew

And after this our exile

If the lost word is lost, if the spent word is spent
If the unheard, unspoken
Word is unspoken, unheard;
Still is the unspoken word, the Word unheard,
The Word without a word, the Word within
The world and for the world;
And the light shone in darkness and
Against the Word the unstilled world still whirled
About the centre of the silent Word.

O my people, what have I done unto thee.

Where shall the word be found, where will the word
Resound? Not here, there is not enough silence
Not on the sea or on the islands, not
On the mainland, in the desert or the rain land,
For those who walk in darkness
Both in the day time and in the night time
The right time and the right place are not here
No place of grace for those who avoid the face
No time to rejoice for those who walk among noise and deny
the voice

Will the veiled sister pray for
Those who walk in darkness, who chose thee and oppose thee,
Those who are torn on the horn between season and season,
time and time, between
Hour and hour, word and word, power and power, those who wait
In darkness? Will the veiled sister pray
For children at the gate
Who will not go away and cannot pray:
Pray for those who chose and oppose

O my people, what have I done unto thee.

Will the veiled sister between the slender
Yew trees pray for those who offend her
And are terrified and cannot surrender
And affirm before the world and deny between the rocks
In the last desert before the last blue rocks
The desert in the garden the garden in the desert
Of drouth, spitting from the mouth the withered apple-seed.

O my people.

Although I do not hope to turn again
Although I do not hope
Although I do not hope to turn

Wavering between the profit and the loss
In this brief transit where the dreams cross
The dreamcrossed twilight between birth and dying
(Bless me father) though I do not wish to wish these things
From the wide window towards the granite shore
The white sails still fly seaward, seaward flying
Unbroken wings

And the lost heart stiffens and rejoices
In the lost lilac and the lost sea voices
And the weak spirit quickens to rebel
For the bent golden-rod and the lost sea smell
Quickens to recover
The cry of quail and the whirling plover
And the blind eye creates
The empty forms between the ivory gates
And smell renews the salt savour of the sandy earth

This is the time of tension between dying and birth
The place of solitude where three dreams cross
Between blue rocks
But when the voices shaken from the yew-tree drift away
Let the other yew be shaken and reply.

Blessèd sister, holy mother, spirit of the fountain, spirit
of the garden,
Suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still
Even among these rocks,
Our peace in His will
And even among these rocks
Sister, mother
And spirit of the river, spirit of the sea,
Suffer me not to be separated

And let my cry come unto Thee.



Wow… we’re at 9,900 subscribers. That is amazing. I wonder if they’re really real people. Gosh I hope so. Because that’d lift up my soul a good bit. It’s difficult for me to think that something I’ve made would be that attractive to that many people. Or any people, really.

So to the non-bots, the warm, fleshy people, I say bless you and I love you.

Wow. Things are so strange. So very strange. I think it will get better soon, well, one aspect anyway, even though shortly after it does, that aspect will get worse again. Permanently. Right now though, it is eroding. Ed thinks that if I ask nicely you’d all give me a dollar. I doubt that, as it’s yet to happen. LOL. A beggar. That’s what I am. All for the total lack of social skills and everything to do with it. I can do techy things and sciency things are a thrill. I can do things for others. But I can’t do a damn thing for me. Maximum depression.

I guess you enjoy my view of the earth, though. And that makes me smile. Thanks.

I’ve been doing some odd and perhaps insane things lately. I pray I get a handle on it soonest. There’s so much more I should maybe write. I will try.

be well




I would likely be a-hurlin.


be well



Matheronodon provincialis

You Retweeted

Studio 252MYA @studio252mya 10:09 AM – 28 Feb 2019

Matheronodon provincialis by @JoschuaKnuppe Giant ­“duckbill” dinosaurs had hundreds of small teeth packed together like a grinding stone. But their relatives—rhabdodontids like Matheronodon—had a few oversized chisel-like teeth.

Isn’t this a neat little creature?

be well



Politie Rotterdam

February 20 at 5:08 AM

“Wil jij een wedstrijdje doen met de politie?” Daar hoefde de driejarige Pomme niet lang over na te denken. IJverig stapte ze op haar fiets en ging ze de strijd tegen de politie aan, terwijl haar trotse papa de race filmde. Het spreekt natuurlijk voor zich wie gewonnen heeft… deze agenten mogen snel zijn, maar Pomme is hard op weg om de nieuwe Max Verstappen te worden!

“do you want to race with the police?” the three-Year-old pomme didn’t have to think about it long. Diligent she stepped on her bike and went on the fight against the police while her proud daddy filmed the race. It speaks of course for himself who won… these agents may be fast, but pomme is hard on the way to become the new max verstappen!


Too sweet!