“hate christmas”


12/25/07.

A sunny but cold Tuesday. Stuck inside my shoebox apartment with nowhere to go. Just another person who is left out by circumstances during the so-called “Happy Holidays” season.

I turn on the TV just long enough to make sure that they haven’t blown up the world on this holiest of holy days. Then I snap it off. Why should I bother to watch sappy Xmas specials or movies for the nth time? Even the TV news – known for its “objectivity” – is slanted towards upbeat seasonal cheer.

So it’s time to escape this frozen tundra Podunk and connect to the outside world via my blazing 40 kbps dial up connection. Type in the key words “hate christmas” on the Google search engine and see what pops up.

As I suspected, I’m not alone. Not everyone can conform to the societal dictates of the season.

Of course, there are those who hate the holiday because of the stress on materialism, not religion. As oxymoronic as it may sound, there are Christians out there who hate Christmas.

Sometimes the lamestream media will mention that complaint, how the holiday has been corrupted by materialism. It’s a brief item, just enough to provide “objectivity.” But generally the media is pushing the positive because it’s beholding to its sponsors who don’t want their sales ruined by the truth.

At one site I come across a sad but honest post by someone who finds the holidays meaningless, empty. He says everyone tries to hide their negative feelings by putting on phony smiles and eating and drinking too much. Another poster mentions that suicides rise during this time of year.

And then there’s the poster talks about the peer pressure she feels because she wants to opt out of the holiday routine. She doesn’t want to send out stupid greeting cards or even bother buying gifts. The usual labels are thrown at her: Grinch, Scrooge. It’s that name-calling time of the year.

What the average non-thinking conformist doesn’t understand is that not everyone is the same. And because someone doesn’t believe in the phony bullshit of Christmas, doesn’t mean that person expects you not to celebrate. Go ahead and indulge. Conform.

Just keep in mind that some people are different. We’re not you.

SEASON’S GREETINGS FROM THE ILLUMINATI




You are commanded: $pend! $pend! $PEND!! Buy more gifts, throw bigger parties! Indulge in the illusions of joy and freedom. Then sober up and report to work, wage slave. Thus The Ill stays in power!!

(Brought to you as a public service by your local Illuminati.)



[Illuminated art by TG; coloring by RX]

The Science Of George Adamski


(Flying Saucers Farewell by George Adamski. 1961. Abelard-Schuman, publisher.)



Unfortunately, I only have one book by contactee George Adamski, his third effort. But even this one tome reveals many startling truths.

Back in 1952 Adamski claimed that he met a Venusian with the synthetic-fiberly appellation of Orthon. This happened like all such events in a desolate area: a Californian desert. Following this life-changing meeting he had other encounters with the space brothers who, he said, looked like ordinary humans and who lived amongst us unsuspecting earthlings.

In his books Adamski made claims that were quickly derided by scientists. He said that all the planets in our solar system were habitable to humanlike beings, even the outer ones like Pluto, despite the great distance from the sun.

So how could the outer planets be warm enough to support life? Check out the image below from page 29 of Flying Saucers Farewell. (Click on image to enlarge for detail.)




As you can see Adamski stated there are three asteroid belts, one between Mars and Jupiter, the second between Neptune and Pluto, and the last after three undiscovered planets beyond Pluto. It’s too bad that Adamski passed away. I would like to hear his take on how Pluto is no longer officially considered as a planet. Or that three more planetoids haven’t been found beyond it.

Be that as it may, we’ll consider Adamski’s claims in light of his own times, i.e., that there are twelve planets and three asteroid belts.

The asteroid belts explain how a far-flung orb like Pluto receives enough warmth from the sun to be habitable. Adamski invokes the analogy of the cathode ray tube (CRT) with its grids and anodes that give off great quantities of electrons. I’m using a CRT now to wordprocess this article.

While the inner planets receive enough sunlight, the intensity of the light starts to diminish beyond Mars. But the first asteroid belt acts like a CRT grid. To quote Adamski (page 30):

“The negative charge of the asteroid belt is great enough to attract the particles from the sun and pull them back up to their original speed. Because this belt is grid-like in construction, with thousands of openings and paths, similar to a window screen with air going through, the particles dash on through and enter the influence of the planets beyond.”

I don’t know about you but I’ve never felt a sudden shift in airflow pressure on a calm day caused by window screen activity. Wind and cross ventilation do their part from what I’ve observed. The screen just passively allows air to flow. Then again, I’ve never considered a window screen as a CRT. It must be a mental thing.

Anyway, the sunlight starts to wane again after Neptune and so it gets another boost by the second asteroid belt. And finally, the third belt/anode gives those solar particles another step-up before leaving our solar system.

Anyone for a tan beyond the twelfth planet?

Don’t Hesitate: Ugate!


Sick of the holiday rat race? Tired of shoving through crowds at the mall to find The One Perfect Gift?

Then why bother? All you’re doing to letting some CEO rake in more obscene profits while you go deeper into debt. And does everyone out there really need the latest overpriced, materialistic fad? You’re just accumulating a pile of useless junk. Christmas is really Crapmass.

Ugation is the answer. Slap together a gift on the small and cheap. Here’s an example made from a couple of dollar store items, a mouse pad found in a wastepaper basket, and a comb spotted lying on the sidewalk:




All I have to do is glue this grotesque arrangement together on the ratty mouse pad and it’s ready to go.

(Health tip: The comb was rinsed off, the pad was only dusty and worn. No need to spread contagion. Always use items that are at least semi-clean.)

Of course, I wouldn’t give this to a friend unless they were in on the true meaning of ugation (ugly creation). But there’s always some pain-in-the-ass who’s clueless to how he annoys you. Then you can pawn off an ugation as a sincere gift, saying that’s it the latest trend in fringe art.

And when it comes to pretentious arts fads, well, that’s another kind of crapmass.

Jigsaw


If you’re like me, when someone wants to share a weird dream, your instinct to is flee.

Start running.

I’m standing in the middle of nowhere with three other men. Barren flatland in all directions. The road stretches straight ahead, falling over the horizon. Dusky brown skies prevail. It’s imperative that one of us has to get home within the next two hours.

Suddenly a car shows up. Not exactly a car. A futuristic transport one-and-a-half lanes in width, no roof, plenty of seating. The driver is a friendly woman who offers us a lift to civilization.

I know what is going on. This is an alien abduction, albeit a benign one. The woman promises that no one will be hurt. I ask her how long it will be because one of us has to be home as soon as possible. One hour, no more than two, she replies.

My companions and I end up in what appears to be a standard issue medical center. Most of the tests are mental: IQ, psychological, whatever. No nasty needles or probes.

I’m aware that they have sedated me but not completely. I act dumb, trying to see who or what is creating this event. I glance sideways at a pretty nurse, like someone at night who detects a faint nebula by looking indirectly from the corner of his eye. The nurse is really a black blob, a humanoid face protruding from its “torso.”

I’m last in line, being lead down a hallway. The tests are over. The man in front of me drops his file; the contents spill out on the carpet.

Trying to be helpful – and also trying to learn more – I stoop down to put the materials back together. One item is a semi-completed jigsaw puzzle, the upper left hand corner. The pieces are large, easy to fit together. But they only reveal part of an abstraction: a random squiggle and one black dot.

The solution of the physical puzzle only uncovers a metaphysical one.

It’s Academic


Fortunately Loren Coleman was there to set the record straight.

Over at cryptomundo.com Coleman has posted an article showing how academic types, despite their vaunted degrees, can get still get it wrong. (The Flatwoods Monster Decoded – 11/6/07.)

Coleman recently attended a conference in Maine, the Twenty-First Annual Conference of The Society for Literature, Science and the Arts 2007. He attended panels dealing with cryptozoology, his area of interest.

One such panel dealt with Gray Barker and the Flatwoods Monster incident. Four academic types – three of them from the University of West Virginia – discussed their research into the Gray Barker archives related to the sighting of a strange being in Flatwoods, West Virginia back in 1952.

To quote Coleman: “They mentioned many people I had worked with or have known, such as Ivan T. Sanderson, James Moseley, John Keel and Barker, so the material was firsthand to me.”

While he sat in the audience, Coleman noted a few historical statements that were incorrect in one of the four papers presented, “How to Make a Myth: The Flatwoods Monster as Cyborg,” by Nick Hales.

After the presentation the floor was open for Q&A and responses. No one in he audience (around 25 people) felt compelled to say anything – except Loren Coleman.

The focus of this essay isn’t the misstatements that Coleman corrected. He does an excellent job of covering them with his post. What concerns me is what would have happened if he wasn’t in the audience or didn’t speak up.

People would have walked away with misconceptions, assuming that they had real insights to the topic because some academic types supposedly discovered the truth.

I’ve seen this happen in other situations. The sheep assume an academic knows what he’s talking about because he has special letters preceding and following his name, unchallengeable marks proving membership in good standing in the priesthood of knowledge. (That’s my take, not Coleman’s. In another post, “Cryptid: Code Beyond Cryptozoology,” Coleman did say he enjoyed the conference; the people there were friendly and informative. He didn’t mention any problems like those with the Gray Barker panel.)

No, I’m not staying all college professors are pompous asses disseminating information tainted by egoism and lack of proper research. And I don’t know if the academics mentioned in Coleman’s essay are like that. But self-important “assademics” do exist.

Remember the Hale-Bopp Comet that put on a spectacular show years ago? During its apparition I attended a talk about HB presented by astronomy professor at a local college.

After his presentation, he was open for some Q&A. I asked that since some comets are associated with certain meteor showers, could there be a meteor shower caused by Hale-Bopp?

The professor dismissed my question in such a way that he made me feel stupid. He authoritatively stated that Hale-Bopp wasn’t in the proper plane to create meteor showers.

A year or so later I read an article about a new meteor shower, one apparently associated with the passing of the Hale-Bopp Comet.

Paul Kimball's Prediction




In a post at his blog, The Other Side Of Truth, Paul Kimball discusses a new book by author Jeremy Vaeni. (Nov. 2, 2007). He soon digresses, making an observation about certain folks in ufology "who seem to be obsessed with the notion that George W. Bush is a fascist anti-Christ." He also adds: "...when he (GWB) leaves office at the end of his term with no fuss, I'll be the first to say ‘I told you so’.”

A prediction, Paul? Gee, how can this be? After all, you took me to task for "predicting" that the war in Iraq would turn out to be a disaster. Of course, since I was considering the history of the region, from the Crusades to the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan, I should have expected Operation Iraqi Liberation (OIL) was going to be a complete success, no long-term problems. Mission Accomplished!

Be careful with those predictions, Paul.

Who Really Drives The Saucer?




“My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?”

Many scholars have debated the meaning of those words uttered by Jesus dying on the cross. To R.L. Dione those words mean only one thing: it’s conclusive proof that Jesus was in contact with an UFO.

In his classick book, God Drives A Flying Saucer, Dione claims that Jesus had his pain relieved by hypnosis induced by an ET God. But the pain became too much for even a trance to control.

On page 114 (Bantam Books, 1973), Dione claims:

“In the last analysis the incident makes sense only when we conclude that Jesus experienced more pain that he had been led to believe he would. And his knowledge that the saucerian above was reading his mind (thus being aware of his suffering) was allowing the pain to continue despite his ability to stop it. This saucerian (God) may in a sense have betrayed Jesus after all. He may have allowed Jesus to suffer a little more than promised in order to remain above reproach in the matter honesty. For someday, when He reveals the whole story to us, God will show that at no time has He ever lied. And He will no doubt reproached us for having all the facts and still not being able to understand the truth.”

Even with a supertechnological God, His mysterious ways must be accepted on blind faith.

But Dione’s Saucerian God still comes across as too petty, too arrogant. Isn’t God supposed to be the ultimate expression of love? Where is the love when SG treats lowly human subjects as expendable pawns? Even Jesus was used and abused to create a new faith, all part of SG’s master plan of deception.

No supernaturalism was involved during Jesus’s life on earth. Of course, the star over Bethlehem was nothing more than a luminous flying saucer. And the miracles performed by Jesus? As explained previously, Dione says they are just magic tricks performed with advanced alien technology.

The brain manipulator, long-range hypnosis, and other such ET controls would come in handy centuries later with other pawns. Like Hitler, used by Saucerian God in an attempt to wipe out atheistic Russian. Never mind that many innocent and faithful people were sacrificed in that failed scheme.

It’s obvious that R.L. Dione got it wrong. It’s Satan who drives a flying saucer.

Jesus, Saucerian Agent Of Deception


It’s easy to perform miracles when God, up there in his flying saucer, is backing you up with all sorts of supertechnological chicanery.

A brain manipulator and hypnosis can work around, not overcome, science.

R.L. Dione outlined the true story behind Jesus in his book, God Drives A Flying Saucer (Bantam Books, 1972). He claimed that the being we call God is actually an alien who has been secretly influencing events on earth for centuries.

As Dione points out, little is known about Jesus until he reached adulthood. This is because time was needed to make him the perfect agent of deception: education, indoctrination. Like a sleight of hand trickster, Jesus had to practice how to perform his miracles without any hitches. And, adds Dione cryptically, maybe this human chosen by Saucerian God had to undergo some biological changes.

Another reason why Jesus stayed in the background for thirty years is because his master had to set up some other pawns to be triggered later.

This was done through mind manipulation. Dione explains: “By the use of hypnotism He (Saucerian God) created the twisted, blind and insane subjects Jesus was to cure at a later date.” Jesus couldn’t help the truly infirmed. He would just make a SG victim snap out of a mentally induced state with a posthypnotic suggestion. A withered hand was mentally, not physically, deformed.

After all, Jesus couldn’t defy the laws of nature. To Dione even a Saucerian God has to play by science’s rules. Dione backs up his reasoning by saying there are no stories in the Bible about Jesus healing a person with a missing limb by causing a new one to grow. Apparently Dione subscribes to the fallacy that absence of evidence is evidence of absence.

Even the casting out of demons was done with SG hi tech trickery. Take the biblical story of Jesus driving demons from men into swine that in turn run off a cliff and drown. As Dione points out, while this is impressive stuff for back in those days, Jesus would have trouble repeating the same stunt in modern times because “he would have to contend with those members of society who are opposed to cruelty to animals.” (P. 105)

And that brings up an interesting scenario: Jesus being hassled by PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals).

But whether it was lowly animals or humans, Saucerian God would use any earthly life form to achieve his goals.

Even, it seems, Jesus in the end.

Radio Station GOD


Experiments involving the implantation of electrodes in the brains of animals have shown that electrical stimulation to specific parts of the brain can control certain emotions. If these signals can be given directly, then theoretically they can be transmitted over a distance, to be received by our “brain radios.” -- God Drives A Flying Saucer, Page 33 (Bantam Books, 1969).


Did you know God in his flying saucer beamed messages to Adolph Hitler, manipulating the dictator so that the prophecies of Our Lady of Fatima would be come true?

Welcome to the world of R.L. Dione. A world where God is supertechnological, not supernatural, the leader of alien technicians from another world.

The miracles at Fatima during 1916 – 1917 were actually UFO encounters, claims Dione. The three children didn’t see and receive messages from the Angel of Peace and the Blessed Virgin Mary. It was high tech deception by God the Alien.

One of the Fatima prophecies claimed peace would ensue after the consecration of Russia to the Virgin’s Immaculate Heart. If the consecration wasn’t carried out, many would suffer, Russia would spread its errors to other nations.

Dione surmises that God The Alien was upset with atheistic Russia. One ploy was to bring Hitler to power so that he could overthrow the Russian Empire and change its godless ways.

So how did ET God manipulate Hitler? Dione says the human brain is akin to a radio: it can receive and emit electromagnetic signals. With their advanced technology the aliens could track a particular person by his radio frequency and then beam in “divinely inspired” thoughts.

When Hitler was imprisoned he wrote Mein Kampf, outlining his plans for world conquest. Radio Station GOD took advantage of Hitler’s confinement to make sure he would regard Russia as his prime target. Sounds incredible? Dione points out that divinely inspired writers in the Bible were imprisoned or otherwise immobilized when they saw the truth. And ET God deceived those writers, ergo, the same thing must have happened with Hitler.

But didn’t Hitler fail? Yes, observes Dione, and looked what happened: Russia did spread her errors around the world. So the prophecy was true.

Left unanswered by Dione is why ET God didn’t pick a better puppet to convert Russia to theism. After all, centuries before ET God made a perfect pick with another agent: a man named Jesus Christ.

The Solution Is Now A Problem


Sleep apnea prevents proper rest. Airways constrict, the sufferer gasps for air, the sleep cycle is constantly interrupted.

CPAP is one solution. Continuous Positive Airway Pressure. Strap on the mask, activate the unit, and the increased pressure keeps the airways open during sleep.

As I’ve mentioned before I’ve been trying to deal with sleep apnea by using CPAP. But lately I’ve been hitting a wall.

Dead tired, I put on the mask. The machine activates and – bang! – I’m wide-awake. It’s refreshed me.

Or I do drift off but the mask slips and the seal starts leaking, “farting” with each breath. Adjust the mask. Drift off, move in bed a little, and then leaking air starts hitting my eyes. Another adjustment. And then another. I get pissed off after an hour of such torture and then give up, ripping off the mask. Then I finally fall asleep but I’ve lost an hour.

Of course, it isn’t a deep sleep, but at least it’s some rest. Lousy sleep is better than no sleep.

Excuse me. It’s time for a nap. Have to catch up with my sleep deficit.

Holey Book




How did this paperback book end up with a mysterious square hole hidden inside? Apparently it was the work of a particular type of bookworm: a bowl weevil.

Fatima, Flu, And The Great Technician




God is supertechnological, not supernatural.

So declares R.L. Dione in his 1969 book, God Drives A Flying Saucer. To read this work is to witness the workings of a rare mind.

Dione doesn’t connect the dots; he just jams them together, forming one big black hole. The intense gravitational pull of his theory makes everything fit.

Chapter 6 is typical of how Dione works with information at hand. He discusses the miracles at Fatima in terms of advanced science, God the great ET technician using his alien devices to deceive the simpleminded human masses.

In the years 1916 and 1917 strange things were happening near a remote Portuguese village. Three children made contact with beings from the Catholic heaven: first, an angel, followed by the Blessed Virgin Mary. The young experiencers ranged in age from nine to six. The oldest, Lucia, would live on for many years after the amazing encounters while her younger friends, Francisco and Jacinta, would be dead in less than two years.

One day Lucia and her friends were tending sheep on the slopes above the village of Fatima when a ball of light approached and enveloped them. Inside the unearthly glow they saw a luminous figure that claimed to be the Angel of Peace. This figure offered the usual messages from heaven.

During his third visit, the angel performed the ritual of Communion, having Francisco and his sister Jacinta drink from the chalice while excluding Lucia. The younger children were also exposed to intense light rays. At this moment Lucia knew that her friends would be soon called to heaven.

Dione explains these encounters as UFO events, the aliens aboard the craft using technology to induce a hypnotic state in the children.

In the spring of 1917 the Blessed Virgin Mary visited the children. She offered the usual blessings and warnings from heaven. Unlike the Angel of Peace who popped up whenever, she announced her schedule, telling the children to expect her at the same time and place on the thirteenth of each month.

Only the three children could see her. When word of the encounters spread, others showed up on the scene, but all they saw was a cloud hovering over a tree. The crowd grew with each encounter.

On the day of the BVM’s final visit seventy thousand people were in attendance. The weather was overcast and drizzly. The onlookers were wet, feet covered with mud. As promised the BVM performed a showstopper of a miracle: the sun seemed to dance and spin in the sky, dropping towards the crowd which was bathed in a spectrum of colors. Suddenly the sun stopped and returned to its normal spot in the sky. After they gathered their wits, the onlookers noticed that their clothing was now dry.

Dione rules out mass hallucination because of this detail, the dried clothes. He claims that a flying saucer produced the illusion of the descending sun, the true sun hidden by overcast created by the “saucerians.” The craft also acted as a remote super duper clothes dryer.

As the overcast disappeared, the saucer kept in line with the true sun, using the intense solar glare to hide its departure. The switcheroo was a clever magic trick but one done with science, not supernatural power.

While this explanation of what happened at Fatima seems fairly reasonable, especially to someone who prefers science (fiction) over the supernatural, Dione really jams the dots together with other aspects of this case.

He refers to “radioactive radiation,” explaining that radiation exposure can weakened a person’s resistance to disease. OK, that’s a fact, another dot of info. More dots: many people around the world died during the outbreak of Spanish influenza in 1918. Two of the young children who saw the BVM at Fatima, Francisco and Jacinta, died during the pandemic. Also, they, not Lucia, drank from the Communion chalice offered by the angel and then were exposed to bright rays of light. (Maybe the last two details could be labeled as a “facts.”)

Time to jam the dots. Dione claims the chalice was filled with flu virus. Francisco and his sister were exposed to radiation to make sure the virus would take by weakening their immune systems. When the great crowds showed up for the BVM visits, they were exposed to the young vectors. Immunity-weakening radiation from a flying saucer assured that many in the crowd would die from the Spanish flu.

But Dione doesn’t explain why God – an alien who supposedly would be wise and rational – committed such a terrible act.

Apparently the Great Technician moves in mysterious ways.

A Gnat Of A Theory





Professional sports. Tribalism for profit. Ho-hum.

Despite my indifference, useless bits of sports info manage to seep in and stay. For example, I know that one baseball team, the Yankees, didn’t make it into the final two spots this year. The team’s totem is a phallic wooden club shoved inside a top hat (another useless bit of sports info).

Totems are supposed to grant supernatural power to a tribe. Apparently the Yankee’s silly symbol served them well in the past but has lost its mojo. It’s piss poor magic when a totem can’t ward off the simplest of God’s creatures.

During the league playoffs gnats swarmed around the head of the Yankee pitcher, disturbing his concentration. The pitcher was covered with bug spray to keep the tiny devils away. But to no avail: the gnats kept swarming and the Wood-Phallus-In-Top-Hat team still lost.

So far no conspiracy theorists have come forth and speculated on what actually happened. That leaves the field wide open for me.

As science has progressed so have ways of cheating. Human growth hormone, anyone?

Maybe that rattled Yankee pitcher was the victim of scientific trickery, modern age mojo. Maybe someone sprayed his cap and uniform before the game with gnat pheromones.

Gnaturally, this is just crazy speculation, an idea way off base. But it’s more entertaining than sitting through a so-called “World” Series game (yawn).



(Photo: Amy Sancetta - Associated Press)

The Circle Of The Elitist




Andrew Keen doesn’t like me. He doesn’t know me personally; he just hates me for what I am.

Why do I say that? Let’s look at a couple of typical passages from his book, the cult of the amateur – how today’s internet is killing our culture (2007).

Most amateur journalists are wannabe Matt Drudges—a pajama army of mostly anonymous, self-referential writers who exist not to report news but to spread gossip, sensationalize political scandal, display embarrassing photos of public figures, and link to stories on imaginative topics such as UFO sightings or 9/11 conspiracy theories. – Page 47

“So instead of a dictatorship of experts, we’ll have a dictatorship of idiots,” I might have responded. – Page 33

Yup, a pseudonymous blogger who writes about UFOs and other “imaginative topics” is destroying culture. Man, what a menace I am.

Keen is concerned that the Internet is too democratic; it’s not keeping the lowly rabble under control. He’s one of the privileged few who scorn the so-called mobocracy.

There are problems with the Internet, issues such as privacy, identity theft, scams, plagiarism, etc. In those areas Keen does raise some valid points, even though he fails to mention that such problems existed before the Net.

But his main attack is how the Net allows many to bypass the gatekeepers of mainstream media. He declares that mainstream gatekeepers are needed to decide for the unwashed masses what is valid and invalid. Bloggers like me are putting real journalists, publishers and editors out of work.

To some extent that is true. Tough shit. As I’ve mentioned before, I’ve tried playing the game with getting published through traditional outlets. Thanks to the Internet I can reach an audience. And if my stuff sucks, no one will read it. Unlike what Mr. Keen thinks, the Net isn’t completely populated by idiots.

Mainstream media is taking a hit. Double tough shit. If the New York Times had done its job, questioning the “facts” offered by the White House before the invasion of Iraq, the US wouldn’t be mired down in a dead end war. Instead, it just printed what that neocon plant, Judith Miller, “reported” without a second thought.

Keen rants on about how you can’t trust everything on the Internet. But he never mentions how the same can apply to the lamestream media.

Keen goes on about “real” writers, how they have to be trained and nurtured by editors and other such gatekeepers. But the mainstream media is known for stifling true creativity. Publishers, TV and movie producers, etc. want a sure thing. They won’t touch a Stephen King or JK Rowling at first; such authors are too original, different. They won’t sell. But after one gatekeeper takes a chance and shows the way, everyone jumps in and starting imitating the flavor of the month. Then a new standard is established: if you’re not a King or Rowling, beat it, loser.

All that free content on the Net, rants Keen, is killing off true talent. Keen must regard himself as a real writer because Doubleday published his book. Of course, maybe some of his anger is stoked by the fact that free stuff is infringing on his turf. As a member in good standing of the select circle, he’s upset because the barbarians are pressing in from all sides. Let’s face it: if someone is reading Ray X for free, enjoying some common sense and straight talk, then he probably isn’t going to pay to read Andrew Keen’s professionally published spewing.

If you want to see what’s wrong with mainstream publishing, examine his book. A small hardcover, widely-spaced text, not that much meat for $22.95. Of course, I didn’t pay that price: I borrowed the book from the library. (Gee, I hope Keen doesn’t consider that “stealing” because I read his snooty whining without paying.)

Maybe I’m a lowly amateur, but it’s better than being a narrow-minded elitist.

Bias Against Humans



The other day someone accused me of being biased against peasants.

That’s not exactly true. I’m just biased against most humans.

Backtrack: I mentioned to someone about the meteor that fell in South America. A fireball was seen in a remote region of Peru. Later a smelly crater - apparently created by a meteor slamming into the earth - was discovered. Local villagers went to look at the impact site and many fell sick later, symptoms ranging from headaches to stomach pain. [link]

I said that a number of different answers could apply to the outbreak of illness, e.g., mass hysteria (or to use the more accurate term, collective delusion). The other person replied I was being prejudiced against the peasants who reported being sick.

I told her that it had nothing to do with the socio-economic background of the people. Collective delusion has been reported over the years, involving people from all social groups.

There’s the classic case of the Seattle windshield pitting epidemic [link] that occurred in Washington state back in 1954. All sorts of people were noticing pits in their windshields that they assumed had appeared out of nowhere. Speculation and rumor ran rampant. Did it have something to do with cosmic rays or nuclear testing? Or was it gangs of kids going around on a BB gun spree?




Not really. In most cases the pits were already there. They were created by prosaic incidents such as loose gravel on the road flying into the windshield. That’s why most marks were found on the front window, not the back one. No one bothered to notice them until the story hit the media. If the story had never been reported, people would have continued looking through the pits. (And, of course, the awareness generated by the media probably caused some juvenile delinquents to copycat the suspected crime.)

Citizens from all walks of life – educated professionals, skilled laborers, etc. – were caught up in the delusion. And don’t forget those authority figures – police, military, governmental – who added to the problem when they overlooked a simple explanation, thinking that something mysterious was going on. (It should be noted that an official from the Seattle police crime lab figured out the truth: most reports were caused by pubic hysteria with some vandalism thrown in.)

It doesn’t matter if peasants or college professors are involved in an unusual event. Human perception must always be considered as a factor.

I don’t know what is going on with that crater in Peru. I’m not into One Answer explains every event every time. It’s reasonable that among the theories to what caused the many reports of illness, collective delusion could be included. Maybe some people actually felt sick – for whatever reason – and others, concerned about the mysterious crater, thought they were also affected, minds over matter.

It doesn’t have to be the Andromeda Strain on the loose.



[Newspaper image from www.historylink.org]



UPDATE: 9/27/07

It seems I've been vindicated. Collective delusion or public hysteria was probably a factor in the large number of reported illnesses:

While we are keeping score, only 30 were sickened, the researcher told National Geographic, not the hundreds as previously estimated. Presumably, the remainder had the “provoked psychosomatic ailments” that one scientist diagnosed. [link]

I should have made my position clearer earlier by stating that I didn't doubt people were getting sick or that the meteor had something to do with it. I was considering all the angles, including the possibility some of the reported illness being "in the mind," due to the unusual event.

Another angle was that the fireball sighting and the crater were unrelated. The meteor burned up or landed elsewhere and the crater was a volcanic mudhole that happened to form or be discovered at the same time. But according to the same linked article, meteorite material was found in the crater so there is a direct connection established. One theory was material in the ground, not the meteor, caused people to feel ill. This turns out to be the case:

Martine Hanlon told the BBC experts did not believe the meteor would make anybody sick, but they did think a chemical reaction caused by its contact with the ground could release toxins such as sulphur and arsenic.

Anyway, when it comes to puzzling incidents like this one, I think all the angles have to be entertained until more data comes in.

A Plan From Outer Space?




The push is on. Posters are circulating to make people aware of what they should do in the case of an emergency (i.e., TERRORISTS STRIKE!)

The poster features “nine essential items to help you shelter-in-place in the event of an emergency,” (i.e., TERRORISTS BLOW UP YOUR CITY!!!).

Emblazoned on the colorful poster is the logo, “Plan 9.”

Plan 9? Where have I seen that term before?

The poster lists items such as water, food, medications, and a first aid kit. Obviously a plan to reanimate the semi-dead. Is Ed Wood in charge of this project? Or could it be sinister aliens from another world who like their meat ambulatory, easy to herd, fresh on the hoof?

Free Association: A Creative Mind At Work


I was sitting around the coffee shop the other day, killing time. I was bored.

For some reason the name of a city popped into my head: Butte, Montana.




Like I said, I was really bored.

(Does cute rhyme with butte?)

Mutant Fowl Up




Bioengineering firm G Spot unveiled its line of polychromatic chickens. The birds are striking, variegated color bands marking their bodies from beak to tail. The head might be shade of green or yellow while the other end could be dark blue or bright red. Unfortunately a couple of defects can’t be overlooked.

Doctor Jean Nettics, head of research at G Spot, said that flower DNA was spliced into the DNA stands of a common chicken to create the multicolored mutations. While the feather color change was successful, the altered avians suffer from unusual disabilities.

The roosters make horrible sounds because they crow backwards. The repeated reversed crowing soon causes their throats to collapse and they suffocate.

A few of the chickens are afflicted with head spinning, constantly twisting their heads in circles. This chronic action disconnects their necks. Eventually their heads sag and droop; they’re unable to eat.




The DNA splicing is so effective that it only has to be performed once. The bio-engineered birds lay rainbow-splashed eggs that pass on the new genetic information to the next generation of hatchlings.

People For The Ethical Treatment Of Animals – PETA – has vigorously lodged a complaint against G Spot. PETA spokesman Fred Furrier quit his job at the Weekly World News to crusade on the behalf of mutational mistakes such as the defective multicolored chickens.

“Man wasn’t meant to tamper with the forces of nature,” he intoned. “Some eggs are better left unhatched.”

Furrier is concerned what will happen of mutant chicken eggs accidentally end up in the food supply. Or if some people decide to deliberately ingest such eggs to produce certain results.

“Look at these crazy kids today,” observed Furrier. “They like to ruin their hair with all sorts of strange dyes: purple, pink, Bozo orange. Why bother dying their hair when they can chow down a mutagenic omelet and let perverted nature run its course?”

Furrier understands that some people will find the freaky fowl story unbelievable. But he adds: “It must be true. There are photos on the Internet!”

Ufoological Images


Let’s see. I can comment on the latest feuds going on in ufodumb or provide insightful takes on ufo-related images.

Not a hard choice. This first image is from an ad for a local insurance company. I blotted out the company’s contact info. I’ll be more than happy to promote its services – for a fee, of course. (Gotta make a bit of dough with this money-losing interest.)




This ad is striking, does get your attention, but is it lost on the average person who doesn’t think about being abducted and anally probed? Does this company imply that it will cover you if you’re beamed aboard a flying saucer?

I’ve always wondered why gray aliens rudely probe people. Maybe they’re trying to promote universal health care and are offering free colonoscopies.

Next up: a postcard from Roswell.



Some friends decided to move west this month, leaving Plattsburgh, NY behind. On their trip they passed through Roswell, New Mexico, and checked out the Cover-Up Café. Why did they move? One friend summed it up this way: “I don’t want to die in Plattsburgh.” Most of you probably don’t grok that statement. You’ll have to experience this place for yourself.

I suspect that some of the local life-forms, while really weird, didn’t end up here after a saucer crash. More likely they’re being kicked off.

OK, now here’s an illustration from the book, UFO Abductions by Neal Bernards. The book is part of the series, Exploring the Unknown, for younger readers. I wanted to see how UFOs and other related topics were being presented to today’s youth.



Obviously the alien in the doorway is pissed. Why? After all, why should he radiate such vehemence towards a young human girl collecting eggs in a henhouse?



Well, my astute eye noticed a couple of details in the illustration. Compare the alien’s hand with the chicken’s feet. Seems this egghead ET descended from fowl, not apes. He must be upset that we humans are eating his evolutionary cousins in embryonic form.

I can imagine what this irate alien does with an egg-eating human adult. Time for the anal probe...

Happy Birthday, Supreme Commander


Unbeknownst to me until tonight, August 4th marks the birthday of James W. Moseley, perpetrator of the zine, Saucer Smear. I was talking to Jim via a semi-secured telephone line about various subjects ufological and ufoological when he mentioned it was his birthday. Besides all of his other honorary titles, we can now call him The Spirit Of 76.

If gray aliens ever abduct him, Jim promised to call me by phone, giving me an exclusive interview during his capture. Of course, knowing the evil grays, I’ll have to pay for the call. (Does anyone know what the collect charges are from Out There?)

UFOdom & Boredom


Tautology induces yawning.

A man observes strange lights in the night sky. The lights might be extra-terrestrial craft. Or might not be.

A woman finds a small scar on her leg after she recalls under hypnosis her abduction by small gray aliens. The scar could be proof of her abduction. Or it could be just an ordinary scar.

The data keeps repeating itself, maybe with a new riff here and there, but essentially there is no solid evidence. A UFO sighting in 2007 sounds like one reported in 1947.

OK, so the mystery can’t be solved. But with ufology the mind can still be exercised, stretched a bit. Intelligent people can theorize and speculate. Ufology can be interdisciplinary: psychology, metaphysics, folklore, etc. Discussion and debate can keep one mentally toned up.

But another feud erupts. A says that B is a liar, B says A is wrong, A says something else to prove B is a liar, and C, D, E, etc. chime in with their takes on the subject. It’s not a matter of who’s lying or who’s right. The whole conflict is nothing but a distraction. Energies could be used for better ends, directed elsewhere. There’s always someone who craves attention. He flames away, baiting in the suckers. Ufology becomes ufoology.

And I yawn.

To the data collectors, keep pressing on. You’re doing valuable work, although its true importance might never be realized. But unless there’s a breakthrough bit of data, or someone sees the answer hiding in the vast sea of reports, sorry, I’m not interested.

Speculators, theorists, and historians: if you have a new angle on UFOs, I’ll listen, unless it devolves into a puerile pissing match with someone who holds an opposing view. I have enough assholes to deal with here in Plattsburgh, NY, thank you.

Ufology drew me in because it wasn’t like other subjects. It was offbeat, fascinating. Lately it’s been humdrum.

I have better things to do than struggle with ennui.

If UFOdom keeps creating boredom, I might be driven to a more traditional subject like professional sports. (Ugh. Then again…)

The Satanic Subtext of Pollyanna




© Copyright 2007 Ray X


Pollyanna. I’ve heard the term a few times but I really didn’t grok its meaning.

I had to go straight to the source. Time to read the novel. A trip to the library and soon I was grokking. (And gagging.)

I never knew that the novel Pollyanna spawned a series, The Famous Pollyanna [TRADE MARK] Glad [TRADE MARK] Books. Now I am forewarned.

When the book was written, it was a simpler time. 1912. Good and evil. Black and white. No troubling shades of gray. Along came a simple writer, Eleanor H. Porter, who wanted to give hope to the world.

In Porter’s day characters didn’t speak dialogue; they ejaculated. For example, there’s a scene where Pollyanna meets a sour stranger on the street and tries to cheer him up. In response, the man reacts this way:

“Well, of all the—" ejaculated the man, with an oddly impotent gesture. (Page 52 in my edition. Porter doesn’t specify the form of the gesture.)

When they weren’t ejaculating, characters of that era sighed, crooned, scoffed, and breathed dialogue.

But I’m not here to criticize dated writing styles. The objective of this essay isn’t so trivial.

Brief plot summary: Pollyanna is an eleven year old girl who ends up living with her aunt after her poor father, a minister, dies. Pollyanna is an orphan: her mother had already been dirt napping for some time. The aunt is a bitter woman who is caught off guard by her niece’s positive spin on the bad. But she and the other cynical people in the town soon fall under the upbeat charm of Pollyanna.

Before her father died, Pollyanna learned how to play the ”just being glad” game. Pollyanna wanted a doll and her father had written for one from a charity. But when the missionary barrel arrived, no doll, just some little crutches for a sick child. Her father pointed out how that she should be grateful for the crutches because she didn’t need them.

Now do you grok “Pollyannaism?”

Even though the reader can eavesdrop on Pollyanna’s thoughts, one senses that her innermost feelings are being concealed. What would her id tell us? What sinister shadow lurks behind the light?

Throughout the book Pollyanna warps reality inside out, always finding good aspects to terrible situations. As I mentioned before, every hard-bitten bastard or bitch she encounters becomes enchanted by her personality. Mean, cynical people are transformed into angels.

But is it enchantment or ensorcellment?

Using my own brand of acumen, what I call Hyper-Logic [TRADE MARK], I see what really underlies this story.

As explained in the first chapter, Pollyanna was the last baby born to Jennie, her mother; the other babies had all died. So why didn’t Pollyanna perish like her siblings? Her mother must have entered into a ghastly pact. After all, demon spawn is a lot tougher than a mere human baby. [Paragraph corrected and revised 10/20/08.]

Lucifer is known to deceive with light, with beauty, blinding wayward souls to the ugliness behind his lies. Promoting unbridled optimism could be a clever trap, a scheme to keep victims naïve until evil finally reveals itself.

There is a dark moment (or is it really a bright one?) towards the end of the novel when Pollyanna is seriously injured; it appears she will never walk again. As Porter explains:

It was on the last day of October that the accident occurred. Pollyanna, hurrying home from school, crossed the road at an apparently safe distance in front of a swiftly approaching motor car.

Just what happened, no one could seem to tell afterward. Neither there was anyone found who could tell why it happened or who was to blame that it did happen…

A mysterious car accident. No one is at fault. What some would call an Act of God.

“But you’re just reading a lot of twisted BS into the novel,” scoffs a skeptic. Really. Note the date of the accident. The last day of October. All Hallows Eve.

And keep in mind that the devil’s weakness is iron. And in the olden days, motor cars had plenty of metal. But apparently not enough to keep rid the world of a deceiving demon child.

Alas, the psychic vampire that is Pollyanna will not be stopped by retribution directed from Above. She manipulates the fools around her to regain her health, to walk once again.

To stride across the world, ensnaring more in her pretty web, making sure that all will suffer abysmal despair when facing the greatest disappointment: death.

A Sign Of The Apocalypse: I Defend Michael Shermer


I just left a comment over at Mac Tonnies blog, www.posthumanblues.com, in regards to some quotes that skeptic Michael Shermer made in an ABC News article about the reality behind UFOs. After reading it over, I decided that it was a piece I wanted to share here.

I’ve made the mistake in the past of jumping the gun, reading through an article too quickly and missing some key points. It happens to all of us. In this case I think Mac and most of the commenters at his blog have done this. To put this issue in perspective, click on the links above to Mac’s post and the ABC News article. Then read my following comment.

Sure, I sometimes engage in wild speculation and humor, but I strive to be fair (it's not always easy). Mac and the anti-Shermer commenters also try to be fair, but this time I think they overreacted.


= = =


Mac:

I’m not a “fan” of Michael Shermer. One time he was pushing for a euphemism to replace the word “atheist” as if another term would disarm all the strict fundie believers out here. Also, he can be just as “fallible” as any human UFO witness when he doesn’t check out a source (Link) .

At the same time, he doesn’t come across as a complete skepwoo in the ABC news article. He does state: “So unfortunately we can't just, we can't always count [on] eyewitness accounts being reliable." (My emphasis.)

I do agree with that statement: you can’t always count on eyewitness accounts. (But you can never discount such accounts all the time. Accounts have to be judged on a case-by-case basis.)

And here are the last three paragraphs from that article that indicate that Shermer isn’t as close-minded as one would think.

* * *

Shermer says the problem comes in a kind of leap of faith — with UFOs it's a leap of explanation.

"In science it's OK to just say, 'Let's just withhold judgment for now and do more research. We don't have to commit to some big, grand theory of aliens visiting us. Let's just say we don't know what it is.' … But we have to follow the standards of evidence in science that we apply everywhere else. In no other science would anybody accept just a few random anecdotal stories and grainy videos and blurry photographs."

"The question itself I think is legitimate," he said. "It's interesting, it's fascinating. It's mythic in scale … one of the grand questions. It's like the God question or, you know, the meaning-of-life question. It's one of those, on that scale. So you'd have to be made of wood not to be interested and, you know, have they come here? Are they up there?"


* * *

So he does think the question is “legitimate.” What he states that more research should be done before any leaps of faith are made. I don’t argue with that. Until unquestionable evidence is found, we can speculate about the UFO mystery, but no one can truly say what ultimate answer lies behind the phenomena.

Apparently Shermer’s not a wooden dummy when considering the issue. Also, he’s right when he says that science is limited in trying to find answers in certain areas such as the reality behind God or UFOs. And that is indeed a limitation of traditional science when it comes to “mythic” subjects.


Ray

Roswell: What Really Went Down


Ignore all that coverage of the 60th year celebration in Roswell, New Mexico. Eschew all the insubstantial theories about what fell to the ground. The answer is revealed right here.

A skyborne array that had been held aloft by a big balloon did hit the dirt back in 1947 at a remote ranch. And it was indeed a secret military project launched by the US government, but it wasn’t called Mogul and it wasn’t intended to detect the Soviets setting off nukes.

The balloon array was made from ETech smuggled out of Russia years after the Tunguska Event. American scientists learned about Visitors from Out There from a data recorder that survived the crash in Siberia. With the remaining material they were able to built a device to trap a flying saucer.

As the balloon array drifted across the sky, it sent out a phony alien distress signal. And when a disc showed up, an electro-static field was created, ensnaring the ET scout ship. The ship struggled, finally breaking away, but it lost control and crashed miles away. When it broke free some of its exterior fell to the ground with the destroyed balloon array. This mess was what Mac Brazel found later.

The name of the military project was Operation Flypaper.

So that’s what happened. A tip of my Fortean thinking cap to my hyper-reliable source, PE, for providing the inside scoop.

Some may say that this information only adds noise to the mystery. As if there’s never been any noise associated with Roswell...

Print Your Own


Over at my website I just added the latest version of my hardcopy zine, the Ray X X-Rayer. It’s a collection of posts from this blog mainly intended for those who prefer paper over photons. A few of my followers only receive my writings via snail mail. I include posts that aren’t time sensitive.

My printzine is created with MS Word. Instead of just storing my zine files on my harddrive, I decided to share them with my online readers.

I’m aware that I blog here infrequently. If you want to catch up with my observations in one neat package, check out The Zine Zone. You can either open or download each file with Word or a compatible word-processing program. Each edition – in glorious black and white – runs 4-6 pages.

Turf Wars


Yes, beings from other worlds are visiting our planet. But the ETs (extraterrestrials) aren’t completely responsible for the myriad of UFO sightings.

Cryptoterrestrials, a hidden race native to this world, are also out and about in their machines, thanks to their superior technology. Sometimes they try to scare off the ETs. But the CTs get flummoxed when they’re duped by ultraterrestrial tricksters from another dimension.

The UTs like to play the ETs and CTs off each other. The tricksters might pretend to be members of either group, projecting illusions of ET or CT vessels. But the tricksters are sometimes blamed for the actions of the DTs.

Demon terrestrials live beneath the earth, apart from the CTs. They have physical form but are shape-shifters, giving rise to the legends of demons as portrayed by many religions, especially Christian. They find the OTs – ordinary terrestrials, i.e., humans – gullible, easy targets for mental torture and manipulation. Fortunately angelic terrestrials – ATs – also exist, dropping down from their invisible domain in the upper atmosphere to keep DTs at bay.

A few of the OTs have their own relatively crude vessels that are the source of UFO reports. The US military likes to keep top-secret experimental aircraft secret by allowing sightings of such craft to be misinterpreted as alien spacecraft. And as part of mind control experiments, the OTs fake alien abductions.

Meanwhile, future terrestrials, that is, our descendants from tomorrow, use their advanced tech to travel back to yesteryear and try to sort out the whole ET-CT-UT-DT-AT-OT mess for the historical record. The FTs also disguise their time machines as UFOs, annoying all the other UFOnauts who are confused by the plethora of disguised vessels flying around.

One day too many X (for unknown) terrestrials will crowd the sky. All of the XTs, from AT to UT, want their piece of terra firma. It just takes one to decide to grab it all. Then the heavens will erupt.

And if that happens?

Duck!




© 2007 Ray X

Loren Coleman Likes Women


“For years...women needed to just stay home and raise a family. Their hormones made them irrational and they needed a man around to tell them what to do.”

Obviously whoever wrote the preceding quote is a male chauvinist. But in this case the obvious is wrong.

A woman made that statement. I twisted its meaning around by pulling it out of context and then throwing in a key ellipse. The quote is from a recent Grey Matters essay by Lesley (June 5, 2007) entitled “Give Pheromones a Chance.” When you read the original statement in proper context, it’s obvious that her POV is 180 degrees opposite of how I’ve spun it.

Lesley and other bloggers have been defending cryptozoological researcher Loren Coleman who has been accused of making a chauvinistic statement during a radio program. On Coast To Coast Coleman said that Bigfoot, being so pheromone sensitive, would be more apt to make contact with a woman than a man. A couple of women bloggers played up that comment, interpreting it in a female chauvinistic way. Now Coleman has been offering essays at cryptomundo.com about distaff Bigfoot researchers to prove that he isn’t biased against women.

Selective quoting and interpretation is so easy. Sometimes it doesn’t take much to smear the innocent.

One time I read an article about a researcher who explained why women on average are shorter than men, the evolutionary factor involved. The researcher speculated that the difference in height placed women closer to male armpits, thus women would be more apt to detect male pheromones.

Now there’s some male chauvinism, huh? The man who said that was just reinforcing the stereotype of the strong male and the weak female.

Actually, a woman anthropologist made that observation.



rayxr@yahoo.com

Print Ain’t Dead – It Just Mutated

© Copyright 2007 Ray X



Beware. The “Print is dead” meme is on the loose again.

Recently a bookstore owner in Kansas City, Missouri was suffering from a surfeit of used books. Since he couldn’t give them away, he decided to burn them. According to the news story about the incident, the owner said that people don’t read anymore. When someone dies, it was observed, they usually leave behind five TV sets and three books.

Well, I don’t print think is dead. I read more stuff than ever, but not packaged in the usual mainstream hardcopy formats. I still have piles of books and magazines around my apartment, but added to the mix are printouts, corner-stapled compilations produced from the Web.

Using my computer I put together my own news zine, selecting just articles I want -- “comping,” if you will. ThanX to Bloglines I can check on various blogs and other sources all in one spot. If an article grabs my attention, I copy and paste it into a wordprocessing file, reformatting it as needed. I might spend a couple of hours reviewing all sorts of stuff, winnowing what I really want to read. Then I print out my self-made compilation that sometimes runs to 20 pages or more.

I know I could save time and physical space by reading all the stuff on the Web, but I’m a pager, not a screener. I like to lie in bed and read; the squatting juggernaut that’s my desktop computer ain’t suitable for that activity.

Obviously, I’m not alone when it comes to comping. It’s no wonder why newspaper, magazine and book sales are declining. It’s not competition from TV because that medium has also been losing eyeballs. And it’s not only a cost factor, i.e., I’m cheap. If something is worth the price, I’ll pay for it. But I don’t think Fortean Times – a good publication – is worth $12 (US funds) or whatever it’s going for this month. It’s all about content. And I find articles online that are just as informative as what I can read in FT.

Some writers lament that all this free content on the Web is hurting their livelihoods. I can sympathize, but since I’m not an established writer, I “give away” my writing online. And while generating income from my wordsmithing would be great, I have one major goal as a writer: to be read. Since the gatekeepers in mainstream publishing have never been impressed with my efforts, here I am.

All I can hope is that people out there are comping my words and enjoying them as part of their perusals.



Comment via email: rayxr@yahoo.com

What’s Wrong With This Cover?


I’m reading the latest issue of Saucer Smear when I noticed a familiar image. Supreme Commander Jim Moseley reproduced the cover of a new tome, Karl Pflock’s Roswell book translated into French. Moseley commented how the aliens don’t resemble the entities reportedly found near Roswell after their flying saucer – or “disc” – crashed.




ThanX to Google and various combinations of key words I just found the original image online. (This scan can be found at http://linesonpaper.tripod.com/PULPMags.html ) It’s from the June 1952 edition of the SF pulp magazine, Startling Stories.





Hey, it’s a classic image, but isn’t it a bit deceptive using it for Pflock’s skeptical look at the Roswell incident? Like Jim Moseley mentions, that ain’t a crashed Mogul balloon in the background.

It makes one wonder: if they’re playing around with the cover to the French edition like that, how accurate is the translation?



Comment via email: rayxr@yahoo.com

Notes From A Sickbed

By Recuperating Ray X

© Copyright 2007



-- Lying in the ER, waiting for test results. They move my bed into the hallway; they need the room for another patient. The new arrival is taken in, screaming like a wounded animal. Mental, not physical, pain. They strap him down. I can still hear his cries through the closed door. What’s more distressed –- my gut or his mind?


-- Back home. Some people heal in hours; me, it’s usually days. Stuck in bed, only radio and TV for company. TV infomercial trumpets a cure-all. The guy hawking the miracle stuff: reedy, his hair gassed back, a ratty moustache. I think of Willie The Pimp by Frank Zappa. The miracle stuff guy is a cue-carder; not spontaneous. Sitting at a small round table, pseudo-talk show, a couple pretends to interview him. Question. Response: his little dark peepers just dart over to the cue cards and he robots his reply. Hey, Willie, I’ll buy five. Why? Your sincerity is so obvious.


-- On shortwave radio I hear Pastor Peter J. Peters, Scriptures For America, talk about this country being the New Jerusalem. And what does he base this on? Look closely: JerUSAlem. He also states the Ark of the Covenant is in ARKansas. Yeah. And Genghis Khan is buried in the state of KHANsas.


-- A couple of times I feel well enough to log online; just enough energy to catch up on some news; too sick to write and add stuff to my blog. My head hurts. Information overload. Too much; I can never keep up, even when I feel well. All sorts of posts archived at bloglines.com, waiting for me to review them. It’s no wonder that I don’t receive that many comments at my own blog. I’m just one of a million million voices out there trying to be heard. The Net: upside, truly democratic; downside, all the competition.


-- One positive note: No worry re: about being abducted by gray aliens. If they can’t tell how sick I am, they’ll find out when I projectile vomit all over their stupid bulbous noggins.

A Skeptic Stumbles: Preaching, But Not Always Practicing


© Copyright 2007 Ray X


Shouldn’t a skeptic be – well, skeptical? I mean, shouldn’t a skeptic not accept anything at face value when there’s an opportunity to check the facts? After all, skeptics usually criticize “true believers” for accepting only those opinions or viewpoints that reinforce their beliefs.

A questioning attitude is important because – as skeptics will point out – someone may be sincere but they still can be wrong. Or they could just be lying.

Case in point: Michael Shermer, the man behind The Skeptic Magazine and its online little brother, eSkeptic. Back on January 10th eSkeptic published an article that used information provided by PEER (Public Employees for Environmental Responsibility). It was claimed that the Bush administration through its appointees was pressuring federal park employees to be “geological agnostic.” Kowtowing to the creationists, rangers were told never to give out any estimates of the Grand Canyon’s age.

As Shermer discovered later, this wasn’t true. In the January 17th eSkeptic Shermer explained how he was duped. Credit must be given to him for admitting that he made a mistake.

As he explains in his mea culpa titled “Fact Checking 101,” he didn’t call either the National Park Service or the Grand Canyon National Park to check out the claims made by PEER. Apparently, Shermer surmised, PEER felt justified in playing with the truth as a reaction to the pro-Christian conservative push of the Bush administration.

Shermer observed: “PEER is an anti-Bush, anti-religion liberal activist watchdog group in search of demons to exorcise and dragons to slay.” He added that while the Hegelian process might work for talk radio, it isn’t appropriate for journalism and scholarly studies.

OK, I can understand how someone could be duped by disinformation – but not when that someone is a skeptic. If Shermer stayed true to the creed he preaches, I wouldn’t be writing about this matter.

After all, shouldn’t skeptics be held to higher standards than “UFO crazies” or “Bigfoot nuts?”

Two Female Glands

(C) Copyright 2007 Ray X



Men can’t understand women. A guy can’t figure out what his girlfriend really wants. Women are fickle, mysterious.

But is there really a mystery?

I think a clue can be found in a comic book from the 1960s: Justice League of America #6, featuring the story “The Wheel of Misfortune.” The superheroes in the League are caught off guard when Professor Amos Fortune stymies their heroic efforts by targeting their “luck glands.” With his research into the science of luck, Amos has discovered a ductless gland within each person that controls an individual’s fortune. He can induce bad luck through his stimo-luck machine.




Now that’s a thought-provoking insight. What other unknown glands might be influencing human actions?

It can be posited that women also have a pair of specialized glands that control their emotions towards men. The first one is located on the left side: the romance gland. This causes a woman to become deeply infatuated with a man, even to the point of overlooking his faults, turning each flaw into a positive asset. For example, in the beginning of the relationship, the romance gland dumps so much of its specialized bio-chemical into a woman that she ends up saying:

“No, Joe, your snoring doesn’t bother me. I think it’s cute. Anyway, I like your snoring. It’s reassuring to hear it; I know that you’re right next to me, keeping me safe.”

But after six months the romance gland has done its job: the man is in love with the woman. Now the romance gland shrinks in size and a second gland, located on a woman’s right side, activates, swelling ten times in size, dumping its mood-altering secretion. This is the fearsome nag gland. Now the woman ends up saying:

“Joe, you son of a bitch! Your snoring is driving me nuts! You better get that operation or I’ll operate on you. I’ll take a power drill to your head, popping in new holes until you stop that goddamn racket!”

It all makes sense now, doesn’t it? Thanks to a 10-cent comic book from over four decades ago.



(Image from http://www.worldfamouscomics.com)

How About Dumb Intelligence?


© 2007 Ray X

(Image from www.samcci.comics.org/ ) .

Someone somewhere (my memory ain’t the best) made a statement about UFOs possibly being probes from other worlds without onboard organic operators. Such probes could be controlled via built-in artificial intelligence, but he couldn’t speculate how such an AI device would work since none exist (at least on this planet).

Hey, I’ll take a stab at it.

Let’s define the “intelligence” part of AI. To me AI implies a non-organic (or syntho-organic) construct capable of reacting like a human mind, albeit one with a good IQ. To me intelligence implies more than a perfunctory response to a stimulus. In my definition intelligence involves the processing of knowledge to pursue a course of action based upon individualistic reasoning. For example, two intelligent people can look at the same set of facts but infer different courses to take. Besides being able to gather and store data, an intelligent mind must also be able to use intuition, making leaps when connecting the dots, thus leading to new discoveries and ways of thinking.

If in some cases UFOs are space probes controlled by computer brains, they could exhibit what I call “dumb” intelligence. To us they seem to be intelligently controlled but are simply responding in a mechanistic way to a stimulus by following a prescribed set of instructions.

Or maybe such probes are smarter than that but are still “dumb.” Maybe they’re as intelligent as a dog, still having some sort of instinctive reasoning, able to learn new tricks, but that is kept under control by strict training. Such a probe would have more leeway in responding yet still be limited. Who knows, maybe an alien probe has a built-in invisible fence to keep Rover concentrating on his mission, sniffing out new life-forms.

And in those cases when an UFO is observed moving erratically, flying in a crazy pattern, it could be the invisible fence has failed for the moment and that Rover wants to play.

CPAP: The Misadventure Continues

© 2007 Ray X


“Sleep deprivation played a role in catastrophes such as the Exxon Valdez oil spill off the coast of Alaska, the space shuttle Challenger disaster, and the nuclear accident at Three Mile Island.” – The Harvard Medical School Guide To A Good Night’s Sleep, Lawrence J. Epstein, M.D. with Steve Mardon (2007), page 6.


Apparently it’s a good thing that the heaviest piece of machinery I am operating is this personal computer.

I haven’t whined about my obstructive sleep apnea (OSA) in a while. And I might as well since the only thing going on in UFOdom (or UFOdumb, as it may be) are the usual petty, personal feuds and pointless arguments spiraling around like insane, tail-chasing dogs. Also, someone out there might find some benefit or useful info from this post. (Anyway, this is my party and I’ll whine if I want to.)

I’m still struggling with my CPAP machine, the device that keeps my airways open while I sleep. This is the second CPAP I’ve owned and the same problems are cropping up. It’s a pain trying to sleep with a plastic nasal mask connected to a long hose. You have to be careful when changing positions in bed or air starts leaking out, affecting the pressure. Also, if an air leak is directed towards your eye, it can dry out your orb. Dry mouth is bad enough with CPAP; I don’t need additional problems.

As I explained in previous posts, I used a humidifier unit with my first CPAP, an option to alleviate dry mouth. It ended up making me sick one night. It was flooding my head with moldy miasma, even though I cleaned the water tank every day. I did try the humidifier with the new unit but decided to play it safe and just go with straight air.

Another occasional problem is the unit actually wakes me up. I’ll be dead tired, ready to sleep, and so I hook myself up to the CPAP. An hour later I’m still awake and have to disconnect, forced to sleep without it. The damn thing is worse than a jolt of caffeine. I’ll lie there for an hour or more before I drift off.
With the new unit there are options you can adjust. I don’t know if I accidentally reset the CPAP level for altitude but I noticed it was at 3, the highest, recommended for use at 5001 to 7500 feet above sea level. I’m assuming that the higher number compensates for the thinner atmosphere at greater altitudes, increasing the airflow to maintain a consistent pressure.

I Googled the keywords “Plattsburgh, NY” and “sea level” and “altitude”. I soon learned that this place is only 150 feet above sea level. I made sure to reset my CPAP to Level 1 for altitude. Apparently I was increasing my chances of perforating an eardrum.

Maybe the correct pressure will alleviate another problem: gas. I had to stop using the CPAP for a few days because I had become a walking gas factory (the rear exhaust type). So far that problem has cleared up, a fortunate event for the environment, especially with the threat of global warming.

I still struggle to fall into a regular sleep routine. 6 AM or 6 PM: it doesn’t matter, I can be wide-awake, drowsy, or out like a light. The pattern changes each day. Even with the CPAP on throughout my sleep, I end up sleeping ten to twelve hours, sometimes missing out on a bright sunny day.

But in some ways I am doing better. I’m usually not in a semi-hallucinatory state due to sleep deprivation, a situation I discussed in a previous post.

A Magical Ride With Saucerer Moseley (Wheee!!)



I was sitting at the coffeehouse counter this evening when the barista asked me what I was reading. He noticed the name of the newsletter: Saucer Smear by James W. Moseley.

I eXplained it was about “flying saucers,” or UFOs.

The barista replied: “People still see those things?”

Just part of the sad state of modern ufology. Mosely has been around since the early days when aerial phenomena was called “flying discs." Jim is an amiable curmudgeon, a living flame who refuses to be extinguished by the Dark Ages.

What I like about Jim is that he doesn’t accept any crazy story that comes down the space pike – but neither does he side with the Absolute Skeptics. I sat there at the coffeehouse, sipping my brew and reading, educated and entertained at the same time. I know I was entertained; I chuckled out loud a few times.

Some might not be impressed with Jim’s snail mail retro-zine. It’s on plain paper, basic black and white, composed with a typewriter and judicious use of tape when outside items are included. (You kids can Google “typewriter;” I don’t have time to eXplain.) The stuff that serves as comment fodder in his zine mainly originates on the Net; I know that I’m familiar with most of the subjects he brings up. But Jim’s insight and humor turn prosaic facts into a ripping good read.

The latest issue - March 15th, 2007 – really hits the mark. It opens with an article entitled, “IS THE CURRENT UFO ‘FLAP’ REALLY A ‘FLOP’?” I was about to write a post about how boring ufology can be at times and Jim beat me to the punch. Like me, Jim he wants to believe, but isn’t there something else out there besides the same old cases being discussed without any definite proof to back them up? But despite his negative take, the article is still fun (except maybe to Dan Aykroyd).

So if you have a couple of dollars lying around, I would advise to send them in a security envelope to James W. Moseley, PO Box 1709, Key West, Florida 33041. Jim is an institution within UFOdom. Of course, what kind of institution is open to debate (mental?). Saucer Smear is an eight-page magic carpet ride without the bad aftereffects.

Ufology As A Catty Girls School


“Well, I think Paul Kimball started it when he made a snippy comment about Kal Korff – no, I don’t mean Snippy the horse – anyway, Paul questioned Kal’s intelligence, Paul put up a photo of Kal as a Green Lantern, well, that wasn’t funny (but Kal did looked dreamy in that Green Lantern Corps uniform), and then Kevin Randle said something snarky and so Kal is having him investigated by the KPMG Sorority – oh, that Kevin!! (but he does look dreamy in his Army uniform) and then Mac Tonnies whispered something into Paul’s ear about Mirka, Mac has no Klass, he just repeats gossip (not that I am doing the same thing, I’m above that), and Merkin – oops, I mean Mirka Fabianova – is going to dish it out about Paul and what an uncool person he is (even though Paul does look dreamy with that big red maple leaf tattooed on his left buttock), anyway, all of this will solve the UFO mystery, won’t it?, maybe in time for the next dance, what are you going to wear?, you could…”

Reddy Kilowatt: A Cruel God




As a connoisseur of bad poetry, some crème de la scum can be found in bad movies. For example, take “Lady In A Cage” — please!

This 1964 overwrought disaster stars Olivia de Havahistrionic – I mean Havalland – as a wealthy woman who finds herself alone, trapped in her mansion during a hot 4th of July weekend. Due to a hip injury, a special elevator has been installed in her two-story living room.

Havalland’s character – who considers herself a poetess – finds herself trapped up in the air when the power goes out. Ergo, she is a lady in a cage. (Clever, eh?) With no air conditioning, the poetess becomes a little delusional from the heat, slumping down in one corner of the elevator, trying to pass the time until someone shows up to help her.




At one point she kills a few moments – and a few of my brain cells – by composing a poem within her skull (even though I suspect it was created in another body cavity). Havilland acts out each line like a melodramatic silent screen actress, throwing her head back, grimacing, as she composes:

Oh! I have worshipped thee,
False god.
For thou art false, electricity

Kilowatt is his name
And we did burn incense to his power

But lo, one day
Our god Kilowatt left us

Could we then go back
To the gods of our childhood?
To reindeer, Santa Claus?

At this point the elevator bangs and jerks, apparently affected by the affected verse. Unfortunately, it doesn’t crash and kill the poetess. You see, Kilowatt is a jealous god, especially one who hates Xmas. He sends three hoodlums to terrorize the poetess. She brilliantly sums up the actions of the juvenile delinquents as “an animal orgy.”

Sylvia Plath, where art thou?

Another Article Posted

Over at my web site, http://xrayer.com, in the X-Rays section, I just posted my review of the book, Haunted Hikes.

I made the transfer to New Blogger without any problems (so far), but I'll still be adding more material to my web site, usually longer articles.


Comment via email: rayxr@yahoo.com

Still Dissing Hippies Decades Later

When I sign on, my computer automatically connects to the Avira web site for the latest updates. Avira does provide a free personal version of their virus protection program that works well, but it also likes to promote its for-pay version. While the new files download, a special page pops up, an ad promoting the benefits of the premium version.

Nothing wrong with the ads – until lately. Now the ad page pops up with an image of two scruffy guys, stereotypical “dirty” hippies. Here’s the copy with the ad:

Bl!o#dy Hippies
They go on shocking people, proliferate and perambulate through the whole country without having a permanent home - computer viruses are nothing but hippies. Unfortunately, on your PC's expense. But thank God the 70s were followed by the 80s because beginning with this period AntiVir started to put an end to this goings. Take Avira AntiVir PersonalEdition Premium for instance.

And then there’s a link to learn more about the premium program:

Go to the Anti-Hippie commune!

I don’t know who created this ad, but what’s next? Could it be something like:

Of course, you’re a woman and have no talent for anything technical, but Avira is simple enough for you to use. Even blondes can figure it out.

New Article


Over at my web site, xrayer.com, I just posted a review of the book, THE UTAH UFO DISPLAY by Frank B. Salisbury.

Here's the direct link to the article. If that doesn't work, go to the home page and click the link X-Rays, then click on the article link in the index.



Comment via email: rayxr@yahoo.com