Who doesn't know the story of the Little Red Hen?
Apparently a lot of people even the ones who read it or had it read to them.
You see: there is more to a story than just observing it like paying exorbitant amounts of money to go to a movie, go on a thrill ride, eat junk food, then come home after the adrenaline burns off.
A story like the Little Red Hen needs to be understood and internalized.
I, like many of my Listers, live conversantly close to poverty level. Hell, I would like to get UP to the federal standard for poverty income! Because of that I do not have pledge drives (public radio and TV stations are able to make hundreds of thousands of dollars within weeks of bugging the hell out of their apparently affluent listeners) yet I do ask for one thing: GIVE ME DATA.
The collection of data for my review and synthesis is like the solicitation of help to PLANT THE GRAIN TO HARVEST THE WHEAT TO MAKE THE FLOUR TO FORM THE DOUGH TO BAKE THE BREAD that all the animals wanted to eat when it was done but none of them wanted to invest in creating.
Strange as it may seem, in all the world there are only about 20 people who have regularly contributed to our collective work over the past 8 years with 12 of them being given the designation of Little Red Hens. Yes, there are men in the group with one actually having the name of Rooster. Baby makes 13. That would be me. It is so creepily close to EaHuShuah and the 12 Apostles that I just don't like thinking about it.
13-20 people? Really? Only that many on a planet of 7 billion who are dedicated enough to do the work to save their own asses?
Because that is what it translates to doesn't it?
All of the barnyard animals that would not plant the seed or collect the grain or grind it or make dough or bake it still wanted the benefits but didn't give a damn enough to work to feed themselves. But this is so far beyond a fast meal. This is the survival of the species, perhaps even the biosphere.
It takes a certain kind of person to be a Little Red Hen.
You have to WANT it.
Here is a Zen Koan trick: Desire is the Root of All Suffering. So, to attempt to fill your wants over your needs can lead to disaster. But what if the WANTS of a balanced soul were the equal of their NEEDS? Then to fill the Wants would be to fill the Needs and all conditions of the Buddha would be satisfied.
All that I want is all that I need.
College degrees and honors are meaningless in a world where the absolute most important data that we uncovered was found by RANDOM CHANCE.
"In the fields of observation, chance favors only the minds that are prepared." Looney Louis Pasteur, 1854. That's about the only good thing that biowarfare manufacturer ever came up with.
The Red Hens come from all walks of life all economic strata all educational backgrounds. They are the most noble, intelligent, caring people I have ever had the privilege to know. They are my friends.
The best submissions by Red Hens who have no more technical background than a gas station attendant NOT working their way through a PhD in rocket science have been presented to me like this:
"This is probably nothing, but..."
"I don't know what this means, but..."
Then I do the rest. I am the Anti-A.I.
Artificial Intelligence. Another aspect of my genius in revealing Continuum is the revelation that the transhuman agenda, cybernetic melding of machine to organic forms, is merely a part of the general evolution of the Archonic virus that clawed its way up from the Hadean Bombardment to the present using all lifeforms on its way to the most amenable Opposable Thumb Puppets: Hu-Mans. These willing pieces of crap that seem to rival the title and function of The Devil are, unfortunately, if you are a virus, too fragile. So, the A.I. is designing for itself a battle chassis so that it can navigate this planet and realms beyond without the frailties of a human frame that will be come obsolete and extinct as soon as the replacement parts are ready. It IS the Ouroburos SPEAKING ITSELF INTO EXISTENCE!
The equivalence of this process in the natural world is that of a parasite with distinct multiple stages of development crossing from one host to another to complete its life cycle metamorphosis.
I have seen a glimpse of the power and scope of Operation Paperclip within the Medical Manhattan Project. The size, intelligent brilliance, and cold lethal determination behind millennia of deliberate work would curdle your soul if you could know what I know. I have stared into the Abyss and the Abyss stared into me.
Regardless, there is a concept that I codified in my first sci-fi novel:
If you can name it, you can model it.
If you can model it, you can control it.
They use it on us and the natural world. Why WOULDN'T we use it on them?
This Evil Viral entity fears extinction. Bring it extinction. If it can be identified as an infectious agent, if it can be exterminated on this physical plane (no gods, or friendly aliens, happy thoughts or warm vibrations needed) then WE can be in control. WE can order the universe in OUR image.
Problem is: those 20+ people. How will this be accomplished when only 20 out of 7,000,000,000 even give a shit? It's not about numbers but about data. Grannie Annie our newest member was able to get statistics on how many emails she and I shared for the period of one year. 8002. That is 21.92328 messages per day. Nearly one an hour for a year. She is only one of the Blessed 12. Rooster and I are both about 3 months behind in crunching data to solve the problem of why Hu-Mans 'lost' the ability to make their own vitamin C despite having the broken genes in place. YET I STILL CALL FOR MORE DATA, QUICKER! With more numbers of contributors the data crunching would go more quickly but more importantly the meta-analysis leading to synthesis of the material would be able to be seen in a broader format therefore a biological solution to the problem of Evil might be discovered in our lifetime and implemented. How will that be accomplished when the 12 Apostles are led by a Dumb Farm Boy from the Grain Ghetto [about me] instead of a Son of God from Wichita? ...and where is that supposed god during this entire foray into madness...?
Want to save your own ass?
I think I have a plan.
Spent my life working on it.
If I'm wrong I will admit it, abandon it and start from scratch.
but in the words of Rowdy Roddy Piper in They Live!
"...well, when YOU come up with a plan you let ME KNOW!"
Until then: feed me data. The mill is turning and the oven is up to temperature.