work that my father, david engvall ,
was doing in 1980, just before i was born.
As a youngster, I was perplexed by my father’s stated mission, innocent and unknowing, as children tend to be, then grew tired of hearing his premise reiterated, cold and cynical, as adolescents become, but now endeavor to continue his work, responsible and circumspect, as adults we hope to become.
One essential difference: I feel that September 11, 2001 should be the the start of the new calendar. Here in the sixteenth year (2017 Anno Domini), the 9/11 criminals are still trying to obscure the truth. The time has come for 9/11 accountability.
On Veterans Day we are supposed to thank war veterans, but on this Armistice Day,
I choose to thank the conscientious objectors.
[when my dad came to visit me in new york – he was the only one who visited me, it made everyone else too sad – we stayed in the millenium hilton for one night, ate a few bites, drank a beer – and he handed me the document above. it is quite likely that this document was in his possession at the time he and my mother were on their pilgrimage to meet john lennon. lenin’s tomb[?] time is falling apart. leave the panique terror to the satyrs. we do not need it. we are alive and (soon-to-be) well.]