Years ago, in perhaps 2000, in the depths of my initial clinical sublimation therein resultant of my 1994 Navy brain injury and 1998 diagnosis… and I always said that clozapine was like a saturation dive into the depths of a stupidness; where one can only surface via ethos, pathos and logos… I bought a copy of General Tom Franks book and had a very complicated waking dream that my copy was actually a drone robot reminiscent of Saint Elizabeth’s home at Battery Park and the movie “Batteries Not Included”.

I wouldn’t call this experience a hallucination beyond possibly a green glimmer. And, I wasn’t delusional because I am perfectly aware that nobody would cut out the center of all the pages of the general’s book and build a robot inside in the way a flask of bourbon can be hidden.

Anyway, I now need to try and say how I saw and was so near that pogrom:

I was merging onto 91N off 9N by the forest by the Sysco distribution warehouse that was thinned and turned into an adventure park for kids with go carts and hayrides. Peter apparently acted independently and pressed the clear channel button. I pressed the buttons for all my presets and scanned too and everything was him. I was late for work in our Glastonbury offices where we later had flooding that destroyed the veterinary medical records of the rabies virological prophylaxis in western Connecticut that Dr. Shook had implemented for the CDC. (This story isn’t about “el Chupacabra” and my Hamburg Cove home, but it is about virology and rare earth.)

My father and I had been planning the USDOI (USAAF) Floyd Bennett Airfield 2001 trade show. With the department of the interior and our friends from PTN including Will Beemer of and a Manhattan window maker who’s name I have forgotten. I can only recall that his window shop location acronym was DUMBO, or, “directly under Manhattan bridge overpass”.

The planes hit during planning. The DOI information us that the post partition Army or Air Force might reopen the USAAF WWII FBAF Air Base pending war activities or for tower debris.

The trade show happened despite the missing towers on the horizon to the north northeast as I recall from my memory of the sun’s position, (check.). And, I recall meeting Joseph Jenkins. And that the steel workers were only able to repair some of the shot out B-24 Liberator sized hangar windows during the show. Heck, those hangars would likely only fit an F-35 or two these days.

There are other hangars beyond the forest in that Brooklyn National Park. I remember the Huey. There was no F4U. No OS2U either. My grandfather was a US Navy aviator and Air Service Medal recipient. He only occasionally spoke of “Those G. D. Japs” and always used the abbreviation.

My name is Simon Alan Flynn

In the forest is a campground and I had thought to bring cordwood. Will awakened me by kicking me in the ribs.

Another memory is of the oil painter with the deformed hands. He had lost a wall sized fresco in the north tower and was showing me fresco technique as he duplicated a tile sized rendition of Paul(?) in the last supper perfectly with his crippled hands.

A Mason quickly chiseled a limestone block and inserted a patchwork repair limestone piece the size of a steak knife handle. He was explaining his work at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. It was later that I read McCullough’s Truman about how masons and miners removed the timber frame internal structure of the White House and replaced it with steel during WWII.

Today there is the Senate’s Subway

Since, the rotunda has been, I have heard, reframed with titanium in place of the Union era Civil campaign timeframe cast iron structure.

When the pentagon was hit, the mill that had pit sawyered much of DC’s limestone block had been fundamentally preserved. The saw blades in the mill were made mobile via a constant flow of shot bearings, and preservationists insisted on the shot technique to texture replacement blocks authentically.

I mentioned General Franks book and my apparitional idea about it because my entire life is like that. A moment here or there and my parietal lobe wherewithal and cartographic sense from my degree becomes a visual memory that along with my education can give me at times a 40 year old visual GIS snap of proximal concerns regarding a locale which include reliable time of day and cardinal directions both interior and exterior. Forestry, silviculture and topography are also concerns. The cordwood was red maple. Acer sacharum.

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