Story of the old ship
by Jon Rappoport
January 4, 2014
“I don’t think I’ve got anything for you,” the pock-marked, acne-ridden, pustule-decorated, face-grafted victim of cheap surgery said slyly, turning pages in the book on his table absently as he stared past the customer through the dusty gloom of the small bookstore to the one window that overlooked the yard in which the many-times-hocked one-man space ship sat weeping its quiet tears, journeys lost, hopes smashed, skies plowed, and the customer bowed slightly, puffed on his pipe, and replied, “I want the ship, I want it now, and I want it for a good price, ten dollars.”
“Sold!” the bookseller said. “No refunds, no insurance, no pity, no remorse, suicide comes in many forms, and who am I to deny a man his undeniable due.”
The customer placed a ten-dollar bill on the table, and the proprietor handed him a brass key.
“It’ll run,” he said, “It’ll get you in the air, you’ll fly over the city, and then some day you’ll find what you’re looking for.”
The customer, a professor at a local college, overjoyed that he’d taught his last class for all time, walked out of the store into the bright shining afternoon, approached the ship, opened the rusted door, sat down in the torn seat, closed the door, took a deep breath, inserted the key in the slot, turned it, waited, and heard a slow rumble, a stutter, a cough, a whine, and then the purr of the engine which knew what it was, knew its duty.
The engine said: “Stars.”
“Exactly,” said the professor. “She’s waiting out there somewhere, and our work is ahead of us. Break the atoms.”
And untold uncountable years later, the professor and his ship found her. She was sitting on a fence in the blackness, making a phone call.
Oh,” she said, looking up, “I was just trying to reach you. I knew you were coming. It’s been…so long. I missed you.”
The professor reached out his hands, tears running down his cheeks, and started to speak, but he was cut off.
“Yes,” the ship said, “lovers may be parted, but they find their way back to each other.”
The goddess of the universe, who was a machine, embraced the old vessel.
“Nice engine,” she murmured.
Jon Rappoport
The author of three explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED, EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, and POWER OUTSIDE THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free emails at NoMoreFakeNews.com or OutsideTheRealityMachine.
Outside the Reality Machine 
Amazingly, your text reminded me of one of Kris Kristofferson’s song:
“Casey’Last Ride”:
Casey being the useless forgotten rusted space ship of course.
Here is a few excerpts:
“Casey joins the hollow sound of silent people walking down,
The stairway to the subway in the shadows down below.
Following their footsteps through the neon-darkened corridors,
Of silent desperation, never speaking to a soul.
The poison air he’s breathing has the dirty smell of dying,
‘Cos it’s never seen the sunshine and it’s never felt the rain.
But Casey minds the arrows and ignores the fatal echoes,
Of the clicking of the turnstiles and the rattle of his chains.”
And here comes the Godess of the universe:
“Oh,” she said: “Casey, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you.
“Here,” she said: “just a kiss to make a body smile.
“See,” she said: “I’ve put on new stockings just to please you.
“Lord,” she said. “Casey, can you only stay a while.”
Of course, it’s not exactly the same… but it reminded me of that song.
Such a beautiful song!
Casey’s Last Ride
The goddess of the universe, who was a machine, embraced the old vessel.
“Nice engine,” she murmured.
————————————————
They then ardently intertwined and danced In a way that they never had danced before, moving to the frantic rhythm of the astounding sound of their metallic beings, spewing magical sparkles quadrillion miles away.
It shook the whole Universe.
Stars, planets, asteroids, you name it, came rushing in to see and listen to the once in a millennium time presentation.
Then the magic spread.
Every existing thing in the universe started dancing with no ending in sight.
The Sun, the Moon, the planets and the stars moved to different places… the whole Universe was unrecognizable
Love changed the whole world!
Thank you Mr. Rapport for delivering us real news/journalism over at N.M.F.N. and especially for O.T.R.M. a true platform of discovery! Your a world shaker and a world maker. Your gonna cause a FLOOD!