Tuesday, August 13, 2013

H7N9 Virus: Won't We Have a Lovely Time?

                                 H7N9 VIRUS: Won’t we have a lovely time?
                                            Intro to Full Thought.
                                         By Mark William Darus.

                                    Call this a first strike on my part.

              Called a Bird Flu as it started a while ago, then only appearing in China with fatalities. And think about less than two hundred deaths in a country that had their parents exterminate their female babies for population control. Given this, Can anyone really trust the less than 200 deaths in Mainland China based on this Intel?

                 Look at this pesky bugs history, please.
H1N1:Swine? http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/H1n1

                  Lovely mutations and the never ending human drive to be GODS. drive in genetics/ DNA and Mitochondrial . New
Frontiers we can create in human form. Discovering in sterile dishes, continued and hunger further fed via Unfortunately Poor intel

             Call me bastard, sir?

What would you call my henchmen? Clones, perhaps?


                 Dr. Peidmont: Gazing fondly, happily as just before a mother dies, she presses her right breast to her new born baby, giving it a last chance for food as she dies. She gave this tiny once known as a parasite certain immunities. Lids shutting, the mothers thoughts closing: “Live, my child! Live on…”

         Dr Peidmont  emotionlessly speaks to his colleagues in a baritone, "Watch closely, Gentleman. She is trying to save her child from destiny."

                What a scientist might call a child, others given size , might declare this floating form a mutation of DNA and wish it to be humanities evolution.

               "She is giving her  child defense's via DNA, Sir!" Adams spoke quickly, carrying the form of a male and tones of a woman. Pimples wrinkling his 22 year old eye-holder. His body happily wearing Depends to contain his glory without embassesment  and Red Bulls chugging him further.  Gaining control over his bodily functions, muscles in his arms enlarge, a light haired man named West

              A nod from Peidmont,  and the mans head sliced at mid neck line in a public bowling alley parking  lot tumbles into murky memory behind the Dyson Repair Center on  Lorain Ave.

              "Sir, nine died when we lost containment. I wou-" a man with a British accent was cut off by a far condescending female tone of Rio.

              "Nine dead is small. Give me damage reports!"

A tiny blond haired female form outside the womb sucks the last her mothers shrinking tits can perform. Hands, fists. lashing out means different. The satellites have a fix on her....

For her, Alice, there is no backwards as her world dissolves into shapes mimicking sounds as smells transform into solid rock.

Her lips are pulled away from her mother by blue surgeons gloves as a stern look crosses her green eyes.

Tired, so tired, Alice thinks....

Alice dreams....


For life.

We run.

To Believe,

We kill much further…

A Child viewed is sheltered and man destroys the Earth.

She is the child of many religions.

She shifts as the highest and the putrid form of attempt their worst spreads sickly venom high, "Fire!" is ordered as they aimed at a body, bodies on cold stainlness steel.

Even from cloning, the chlorinating of a brain, they keep trying as they pose to the public " We're trying us! All of us at the CDC./... \"


And to make many think  the importance of females in religions are  nothing more than cattle 

Mark William Darus 08132013

Walk A Mile by Ryn Cricket.

                                          Walk A Mile...
                                          by Ryn Cricket.

She said, “Girl,
you need to break out of your comfort zone.”
I was confused.
Comfort zone?
I have NO comfort zone.
She was saying this
in response to my
previous confused look
as she rattled off directions,
in Chinese, of the good store
to buy clothes for my daughter
who is suddenly growing like a weed.
I had only been living in Shanghai a couple of months.
And then I started thinking…
About the first time I went camping around
the state of Arizona,
and then backpacking alone
in Alaska
without a plan,
going to an ashram in the Adirondack Mountains
without a penny in my pocket,
my two years in Peace Corps
sleeping on the floor
in a house I shared
with a 7-foot snake and 2 tarantulas
that didn’t pay rent.
Living with an abusive husband,
and going through chemo, radiation,
no voice
and not even able to drink a drop of water;
I am a single mother, living in Shanghai
with my two preschool daughters
and this might be the most comfortable time of our lives,
But I wondered how a person’s perception could be so skewed.
And then I thought about Charlie
this guy I met in the ice cream aisle of the store.
We were both buying vanilla ice cream
because we both were recovering from throat cancer
and that was exactly ALL that we had in common.
He said, “I am really good judge of character,”
and then proceeded to tell me how he completely understood
“how I am building walls,”
“How I am cutting myself off from people.”
and “How I am turning away my friends.”
He got the same confused look.
–from me.
I had never been so surrounded by friends.
I had friends paying my insurance bills,
paying my rent,
taking care of my girls,
bringing food and money,
cleaning my house,
and checking up on me
all day, everyday.
George Bailey had nothing on me.
But this man Charlie,
had told the same bad joke 3 times
to 3 different people
and was so negative and off-putting
that I just didn’t want to talk to HIM.
I understand projection.
I understand perspective.
My Mohican friend gave me
my third-stage Native name
of Standing Wave.  
He said it’s that place in the river
where it looks calm as glass on the surface
but below there’s a rapid undertow.  
He always saw me so clearly.
Ryn Cricket August 12 2013
as seen on WordPress.
Authors Notes: Thanks Ryn once again for allowing me to share your work. I could add such things like: "keep up the good work!" "Never Stop Writing!" That would be profoundly idiotic of me though. I know damn well you will never lose the faith and passion that courses thru your veins.
Mark William Darus 08132013