Well, in the Transformers movie there's the pair of glasses with a map in the lenses..in American Treasure there's Ben Franklin's glasses which were a key to the treasure...and I've got to thinking on these things...
In Close Encounter of the Third Kind it was all about an oblique (an ab exercise commercial is on!) message from outer space, and as the tale unfolds the message is a location where the spaceship is going to land.
Now, the powers to be in that film figure this out, and prepare...but peripheral to this is a lot of everyday citizens around the world who get the message too...and it manifests in obsessive behaviour that only a few figure out...they draw or model the postpile mountain in Wyoming..and then locate it for themselves...and a handful make the trek and arrive in time...Dreyfuss not only arrives but gets chosen to go aboard...award I guess for his sticktoitivity.
Oh, but that sound...doo dee do deee dooo...the five notes...semiquaves and all....well...it bears more than a passing resemblance to the sound one makes saying the vowels....a....e....i...o...u...
A clue...
The vowels were given great reverence...in the Bible, and in ancient Egyptian too, they are left out of written words, being too sacred to include...hence the magazine KMT...and JHWH...
letme study out wiki's take on vowels...and Close Encounters....brb...
Well, I got sidetracked...a search of sacred vowels...and then sacred vowels robert graves....I read the White Goddess years and years ago...and apparently scholarship has gone apace until now there's a book of essays about it...it's over forty dollars!...it can wait...but it mentions how the Greeks viewed the vowels (they could animate)..and oh, that will all be for another time!!...
lemgolook at Cls Encntrs...brb...
quote from wiki...
well, my grab and paste didn't grab!! what it describes is when the scientist and the alien talk with their hands to one another...and the five tones are played...well, the Greeks related the vowels to the dactyls...our fingers...and since we make things..animate...with our hands...the notion that vowels animate language has expression!!...I think I made some of that up on my own!!...
Now, (I had to find where I was...)...in Transformers the powers that be have known about Megatron and Cube all along....so while this mystery is in the wire rimmed glasses and leads the good guys to the secret place under Boulder Dam (sorry Herbert)...it falls kinda flat when everyone is already there!!...but that was in CE too...and where else....Independence Day...the aliens' ship and aliens found and stored under Area 51 (and somehow Corso's back engineering notion in his Roswell book got picked up in Transformers...)..so, in these movies, and in all the X Files...the powers are privy to things of import that the everyday citizen can only conspiracy theory about!!
hmmph...I could go on...but here's a bit, by way of apology to Herbert!!...
quote
Herbert Hoover Yosemite
The writer happened to be one of a party of five, along with Hoover, that visited the Yosemite valley in the summer of 1894. It was Hoover’s last vacation, and he expected to spend part of it in recreation. One night in June there was a college reunion, there in the grand old valley, something over thirty different colleges being represented by nearly seventy men and women, and the lovable old Professor Joseph Le Conte, University of Georgia, 1841, was the head of the joyous lock-step parade as it finally wound up the evening’s singing and story telling and instrumental music with a sort of hilarious war dance around the giant bonfire built in an ampitheater [sic] of bowlders [sic] and pines close to the Royal Arches. It chanced that about a half dozen members of the California Glee Club, out on a roughing trip with a burro train, were present for that reunion. They sang gleeful airs with true college zest. And after each favorable impression from California’s representatives some of the strange men from out of the East would call from the flickering circle, “Now, for a Stanford song.” But the Stanford men were truly “a stupid lot,” as a schoolteacher informed them the next evening, when they stopped for an unconventional call at one of the numerous camps and joked for a half hour with the fair gathering, and then, with their identity still unknown, drove away into the darkness with a convincing Stanford yell that echoed from both sides of the mighty walled valley.
That visit to the Yosemite was during the great railroad strike. A telegram came one day informing Hoover that his application for a position with the State geological surveying party had been granted. Train and stage transportation were stopped. It was nearly 100 miles to Stockton, where Hoover could take the boat to San Francisco. He said nothing, but cooked himself some flapjacks, cut off a hunk of bacon, measured out some coffee, took his tin cup, a small fry pan, a pair of blankets and said good-by to his camp companions. It was hot weather in midsummer, and three days of very long marches before him up and down mountain roads. But Hoover went at it without a word and never mentioned it afterward.
The writer happened to be one of a party of five, along with Hoover, that visited the Yosemite valley in the summer of 1894. It was Hoover’s last vacation, and he expected to spend part of it in recreation. One night in June there was a college reunion, there in the grand old valley, something over thirty different colleges being represented by nearly seventy men and women, and the lovable old Professor Joseph Le Conte, University of Georgia, 1841, was the head of the joyous lock-step parade as it finally wound up the evening’s singing and story telling and instrumental music with a sort of hilarious war dance around the giant bonfire built in an ampitheater [sic] of bowlders [sic] and pines close to the Royal Arches. It chanced that about a half dozen members of the California Glee Club, out on a roughing trip with a burro train, were present for that reunion. They sang gleeful airs with true college zest. And after each favorable impression from California’s representatives some of the strange men from out of the East would call from the flickering circle, “Now, for a Stanford song.” But the Stanford men were truly “a stupid lot,” as a schoolteacher informed them the next evening, when they stopped for an unconventional call at one of the numerous camps and joked for a half hour with the fair gathering, and then, with their identity still unknown, drove away into the darkness with a convincing Stanford yell that echoed from both sides of the mighty walled valley.
That visit to the Yosemite was during the great railroad strike. A telegram came one day informing Hoover that his application for a position with the State geological surveying party had been granted. Train and stage transportation were stopped. It was nearly 100 miles to Stockton, where Hoover could take the boat to San Francisco. He said nothing, but cooked himself some flapjacks, cut off a hunk of bacon, measured out some coffee, took his tin cup, a small fry pan, a pair of blankets and said good-by to his camp companions. It was hot weather in midsummer, and three days of very long marches before him up and down mountain roads. But Hoover went at it without a word and never mentioned it afterward.
I think the location is over by Indian Cave. ;)
DavidDavid
Tree in the Door
Nov. 15, 2007
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