""If I only knew how to begin." For, you see, so many out-of-the- way things had happened lately", Remarked Alice.""

Well, the awaited "Disclosure Begins Tonight" Blog entry came and went and hardly a whisper of a wind was felt.

A death pall fell over the small community at which it was aimed as onlookers gazed at one another with a ten-thousand yard stare that said: "Now what?"

To the rescue came our friend chicken-little, promising us a follow-on write-up piece in the style section of the Washington Post. (The STYLE section??!!)

Well, why not, we beggars cannot be choosers. If the powers that be have, in their infinite wisdom, decided that the style section of the Washington Post is the best avenue to continue this run-away train called disclosure, then we will all have to breathlessly await this style piece.

After all, we have been waiting sixty years. Yes, it might not be as dramatic as a landing on the white house lawn, but look how much mileage Dear Abby got out of it!

To keep us entertained while we wait, stories about our naked spy continue to flourish. He of the bad memory (was I in the UFO Working group?) has now been confronted with a tape recording at Starstream Research. It seems our friends in high government places were still in business through at least 1992, and our old acquaintance Col. Alexander seems to have been running that show.

So, let's see: We have a highly placed CIA official, a medical doctor/researcher, also in CIA employ, a former Army Colonel currently employed at Los Alamos and a variety of others all intertwined with a mad blogger warning us of an eschaton with alien connections.

At least one of these personas has a hard time recollecting whether he ever belonged to such a group, as the tape clearly shows, but IS enough aware to discredit his good friend and to say that even though he calls his good friend sometimes several times a day and sends him things marked urgent, he has never really been involved with his good friend's eschaton theories, alien visitations or any other such nonsense. Ahem. Was I really in that working group? I don't remember.

And the beat of "disclosure" marches on.

Within our peripheral view, to the side of this show going on at center ring, is a much smaller circus performer trying his best to be noticed by somebody. Anybody.

The performer? A smokey tune? Or is that a cartoon? It seems that after this performer was thrown out of his previous favorite bar, he has written several letters to the bar owners begging for readmission. When that apparently didn't work, he began begging for a respected member to intercede on his behalf. This performing individual tells anyone who will listen that he is proud of his abrasive and confrontational personality, and that he purposefully "toons" it to be just so! And now this groveling. Is this finely "tooned" as well?

It matters not. While he is waiting for the results of the begging and groveling, he has taken up residence at a different bar. There, he has hoisted his barstool as high up as he can muster to try and attract attention. From his new pulpit he has attacked his former hangout and its patrons, patrons of the new establishment and lately has even begun to attack our friend chicken-little, calling his life's work "masturbatory". As opposed to HIS tooned work, which is...............what?? The word piss-ant comes to mind.