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Alien Books Below!

Lions and Tigers and Bears, oh my!


The following book is "alien related".

I am posting 50% (the first half) here.

My books were on sale years ago, but honestly, it just became too much trouble to keep up with it all. I pulled all books from all markets. Amazon (Scamazon) was the worst to deal with and I honestly believe they simply cheated me. I see numerous lawsuits being plotted, filed, or actively engaged in for exactly that claim, against Scamazon, by other unfortunate suckers (oops authors.)

A few lifetimes ago I had a literary agent in NYC named Richard Curtis. Richard wrote a book titled, "How to be Your Own Literary Agent". --Great book exposing the disgusting, sticky, slimy, reeking, feces-slathered underbelly of the world's book publishing industry. I felt Scamazon was right there leading the charge into Hell even decades after Richard bravely published his book. In the publishing industry I experienced almost everything Richard warned readers about, but in the late century, publishers became even nastier, sneakier, and more dishonest. I learned and I bailed. Lie down with dogs, get up with fleas. And parasites. Inside and out.

If your need for a quiet, honorable, stress-free and logical life is great, then avoid ANYTHING that puts you in the clutches of master scammers (publishers of all kinds). Just say no. Do like Tolkien did -- write for your family and friends and no one else.

If, on the other hand, your need for glitzy public adoration and fame and money (Hollyweird, anyone?) is the driving force of your psyche, then by all means, you should dive deep into the business of formally publishing and selling your thoughts. You'll learn so, so much -- more than you want to.

I believe Jeff Bezos is a crook and a thief. Period. And although he may be the worst offender, I know of NO book publisher, whether in the realm of tangible products (printed materials) or ebooks, that I'd allow in my home for biscuits and tea. Eff 'em all.

Writing a book is only a very small part of the process of selling a book. I refused to do public appearances; I refused to promote on so-called "social media". I refuse to have a Farcicalbook (Facebook) account. I am a loner and a recluse. I don't WANT to be famous. I don't even want to be known except to the silly, hammy mutts in my village in SE Asia (who bite everyone but me) and the kids. Long live the kids.

Yes, there is money in writing, but it's far and vastly outweighed by the BS and the little pieces of your soul and moral code you'll have to sacrifice which are required to keep the flow going and I simply won't do it. I'm not rich, but I have "enough" money to last me through this lifetime. My needs and wants aren't extravagant. My needs and wants for quiet and peace and solitude and a reasonable, honest, honorable, logical lifestyle greatly outweigh my needs for money. I once lived in a dirt-floor cabin in northern Canada that was 450 miles (no misprint) from the nearest dirt road. That wasn't far enough and people still came to annoy me. I've had great sums of money from numerous endeavors throughout my life. As a commercial diver I made, on some jobs, $2600 per hour (again no misprint) in the 1970's. I loved the work. The money was little more than a headache and a grand, irritating distraction. I learned that I was always to one degree or another less happy, proportionate to the amount of money I had.

Here are the two books, shown as the first 50% of each one. I don't know what I'll ever do with them. Probably nothing. It's an absolute and guaranteed fact that if I post the whole books, miscreants (thieves) by the hundreds will simply steal the text and put their own names on it. It has happened far too many times before. Hell, they'll do that anyway, and I'll find them and sue them as I have in the past, but they won't do that in as great a numbers if they only have half the book. I don't need nor want the headaches. My books were always very well received with the lowest review ever posted being four stars. That is worth far more to me than any paycheck.

Enjoy these snippets if you can. Maybe someday I'll post the second halves of them. Or maybe I won't. I don't want the attention at all. I like to entertain people. But I am sick to bloody effing death of being stolen from, copied and scammed. That's the Millennial Way nowadays and Homey say no mo'.

The book below is a discussion of aliens, much like the tapes, above are.

The book after that is a purely fictional alien-type novel. There is actually a sequel to it, but I don't have the interest at present to put it out there in any way.


Joyce A.
February 14, 2017
This book is by and far the best alien story I've read in awhile. I usually read non-fiction UFO stuff, and although this is just a story about this person's feelings on various subjects, I'd still classify it as nonfiction. The best part of this book is all parts of this book, if I myself could ever put together a book about my personal feelings about UFOs, life after death, etc., it would read exactly like this. I almost wanted to keep checking the authors name, it is so very much exactly what I myself think and feel about these things, even the same wording I would use. And humorous in the extreme which all combine to make it very easy to read and, in fact want to keep around. Thanks for such an excellent book!


Great fun
May 29, 2018
Laugh out loud book a very entertaining read while giving real food for thought I will be looking for more of this authours work


Aliens and Ghosts...
Delicious real-life horrors – a practical discussion
Copyright © 2017-2022
(accessible through
Caution: This manuscript contains and includes my opinions.
Chapter breaks have been removed.

Aliens, anyone?

In the 1970’s my company was called out to lift a sunken vessel off the ocean bottom. That was our work. The trip to the casualty should take 8-10 hours in reasonable sea conditions. I left with my diver, Ron, at midnight and planned to be in the water and working by noon the following day. We’d made the run on every kind of vessel, powered and sail, over our lifetimes, countless times. For me, maybe seventy to ninety times. More for Ron. In a normal storm the transit time might be increased to, say, 14 hours if the boat could keep going, but conditions were perfect. Seas were low and glassy and oily. Exactly as I loved it. Visibility offshore in the fog was consistently 80 feet.

We snacked, read, talked. Talked. Slept. Snacked. Could feel ourselves getting fatter by the hour. I never skimped on Pop-Tarts. Strawberry, blueberry and chocolate. Sometimes I slathered them with hot butter. Food of the Gods. And coffee. And hot cocoa. And milk. The human body needs no more. Ok, a fish a month is good. Because blueberries are vegetables, right? And chocolate has protein. Strawberries are obviously a fruit. That’s yer three groups, I reckon.

After four hours we just weren’t making good progress. Speed was normal. We were steaming at hull speed. Engine RPMS normal. Bottom was clean. 60 inch prop newly tuned. WTH? A weak flood tide was bucking us, but very minimal. I added a few more RPM.

After six hours we were mildly alarmed. Seriously. WTF. I added more power.

As the hours ticked off we waited for a scheduled strong ebb flow that would surely flush us out to sea. It came, presumably, but we never saw the benefit of it. We seemed to be continually driving uphill, against a powerful and never-ending flooding current. We began to mention the phenomenon in passing. Then we puzzled over it. Then speculated openly. After ten hours and only being less than 50% along our route, we were more than just perplexed. We were concerned. Nothing made sense. Carbon monoxide poisoning? Were we hallucinating? Bermuda Triangle?

I occasionally called up passing ships on some pretense, just to see if their captains were awake and alive or had been spirited off by aliens or by denizens of some alternate dimension. We asked about weather behind us, their destination, whatever. Just to see if they talked normally or if we truly had entered the Twilight Zone. Invariably they did speak intelligently. This offered no clue to our predicament. We simply could not make westward progress. How could the current flood, hard against us, for ten frikking hours when it was scheduled to ebb at least part of that time? Honestly, weird conditions can occasionally throw the tides and currents significantly out of whack. But not this far out of whack. Maybe there was some shift of the earth’s core and the entire ocean was being pushed at us. Maybe we were bucking a phantom five knot current, although no ships had mentioned this. Maybe the cities and ports behind us were deep underwater. We checked the news.

I made a deal with a freighter to sell me a pack of cigarettes. $100. They slowed down to steerage speed; we came alongside; they dropped a bucket on a line with a pack; we sent the money back up. Commerce. What would they have done if we hadn’t sent the C-note back up in the bucket? Sometimes the brands were some wormy camel-feces shit from the Middle East. I barely cared. I had made this deal too many times. My twisted logic was that if I went out on a long job without cigarettes, I wouldn’t smoke, because I couldn’t smoke. No way around it. How can that go wrong? If I didn’t smoke long enough, I’d never smoke again. It seemed so simple. But invariably, within the first two days, I was making outrageous deals with other vessels to buy cigarettes because I became convinced that without them I would die soon, and in today’s oceans there are always other vessels around somewhere. A hundred years ago my plan might have worked. $100 for a pack seems beyond ludicrous now. Well, ok, it was beyond ludicrous then too. But compared to other unspecified ludicrous deals I’d made for cigarettes, a hundred bucks wasn’t all that bad. Too bad the basic logic was flawed. I wonder what I would have done if I’d been on the moon. Alien contact would have been established in the pursuit of cigarettes. I probably wouldn’t have any money on the moon, so, in trade, let the probing begin. I had seriously considered piping cigarette smoke down through my umbilical and into my diving helmet. Would have, too. Just never got around to it, and I couldn’t figure out how to keep the smoke out of my eyes inside the helmets. I did quit years later when my subconscious started tricking my body into becoming violently ill every time I lit one up. Perfect therapy. Thank you, subconscious.

We finally got tired of having headaches and stopped talking about our insane lack of progress along our route. Speed through the water was fine, checked a thousand different ways, even by dropping a bobber into the water along the rail and walking aft and timing the distance. Ridiculous lengths to go to for sure. But what else to do?

After the supposed current change to a strong ebb, our effective progress slowed even more.

Now we were angry. Testy. Prone to minor snaps at each other. Fark this. Seriously, fark this shit. We had places to go for God’s sake. This wasn’t a Sunday sail. We had a schedule. I was angry.

We arrived at our destination exactly 24 hours after we had departed. 80 miles. Eighty frikking miles. Eighty effin’ miles. Seemed like 400. Our speed through the water averaged 9.2 knots. We experienced four tide and presumably current changes (tides and currents are not always the same), which should have more or less canceled themselves out in terms of slowing or advancing us on the chart. But it took us 24 danged hours to travel 80 miles. I have no explanation for this and neither does Ron. Except one.


It had to be.

Had to be frikken aliens. They snatched us up. Maybe the whole tug. Somehow hypnotized us into thinking we were still steering and snacking and talking and peeing. But all the while, they were doing heinous shit to us. Maybe we liked it. Maybe we didn’t. How in God’s name would we know if they erased our memories? But they didn’t even have the courtesy to drop us at a point that we normally would have reached had we not been abducted. They sucked us up. Did unspeakably crude shit to us for, what….maybe 12 g-damned hours. Then set us back down in exactly the same place they’d picked us up. Had to be this. And I consider that to be damned irresponsible, because, if you were an alien, and the Galactic Star-fleet Authority (GSA) had told you that humans weren’t ready for alien contact, but you still had to collect a monthly quota of DNA samples and whatnot, and do gynecological tests on girls (a really lot of that), and collect sperm and hair from men (which “some” aliens also like), but you had to do it more or less clandestinely, then sure as hell you’d be smart enough to pick up your specimens, and have your fun with them, but then drop them more or less at a point they might otherwise have reached if you had not interrupted their journey. If you don’t do this, then humans will certainly start figuring this shit out. It’s inevitable. And we have. So we naturally have started watching for clues like this when we have missing time. Missing miles. Missing sperm. Missing eggs. Sore asses. Like that. Aliens might be stupid if they have not picked up on this. They have to make the humans think they kept on traveling while they were aboard the saucer. Everyone knows this. If nothing else it’s a common courtesy to be extended to your victims.

Over the decades Ron and I sometimes brought this ‘80 miles in 24 hours’ experience on the tug on our way to the coast, up for discussion in mixed company. But eventually we stopped telling people about it because they’d just shrug and say something patently stupid like, “I don’t know. Aliens?” And then they’d rather rudely change the subject because they were profoundly disinterested and didn’t love us enough to want to discuss the experience openly. You learn who your true friends are in this way. We had few. Maybe none.

Never had nightmares about bald headed, bug-eyed, skinny little turkeys probing my genitals or sticking needles into my eyes, so this theory probably doesn’t hold water. But honestly, for God’s sake, what else is there? Alternate dimensions? We slipped into the Land That Time Forgot for 12 hours and then came back out exactly on course and didn’t remember it? That’s just too crazy to contemplate.

Ok, ok. I’m serious now, but the story above is absolutely true. And so is the next one:

Pushing a barge ahead of the tug one night. Very dense fog. Everything quiet. Weather dead calm. Traversing a series of narrow channels, with one coming up that was particularly narrow. Been through there ten thousand times. Enough room for the barge, but not much extra. As we approached the choke point I noticed a small blip on the radar, directly ahead. Looked to be about the size of maybe a 30 foot pleasure craft. Distinct on the screen. Clear. I called on channels 13 and 14, then 16, 68 and 70, for the sporties (yachtsmen). No response. It seemed to be moving slowly toward the choke point, obviously wanting to come through. Lots of sport boats will run in the fog with no radar, hoping the other guy has radar and won’t run them down and kill them. Maybe he didn’t see us at all. When there was 400 yards between us I threw it out of gear and blasted on the horn to let him know we were there. No response. I let the tug and barge unit come to a dead stop, and we continued to watch the blip. It stopped too. Was it aware of us? Dammit. I wanted to get to our anchorage and go to sleep because I had a full day of diving early in the morning. I slipped into gear with a PPSSssst ka-klunk of the air shift. Felt the screw begin to turn. We moved slowly, slowly ahead. Damned blip was meeting us head on. I altered to starboard as much as I dared. Blip altered to his port. Well fark me with a thorny rose stem. I hated yachtsmen.

I stopped. He stopped. I didn’t want to be drifting port or starboard in the bite of the channel. My tug was single screw and I needed a little room to maneuver to keep off the beach. I backed slowly out of the channel. The blip backed away too. Ok. He knew we were there.

I waited a bit. The blip then rapidly moved away from us, an eighth of a mile, did a slow 180, and came back and stopped. 

C’mon.  Really? Ok, he wanted us to go first.

I edged ahead then, dead slow. I figured we would just pull right up to him and yell down WHAT THE F*CK. When we were forty yards from the blip, radar zoomed in to ludicrous-zoom, I actually shut the main down because we wanted to be able to hear his engine, and to be able to say in court we were all-stop and dead engine when he effing HIT US. We stepped out onto the bow. Saw nothing. Called into the darkness. Heard nothing. I got on the bullhorn. Called. Listened with the listen-circuit of it. Not a sound except the whizz-whine of the little motor in our radar antenna and I distinctly heard a tiny sizzle as a crewman near me took a drag on his cigarette. It was that quiet and that calm.

Crew stayed on the foredeck. I moved back to the door to the wheelhouse so I could see the radar. Blip was moving toward us then. I relayed this to the crew. He came at us, and at us, and then he was on top of us, but just barely off to our port side, like five feet. The crew scampered over to that side. We all looked intently. We all listened intently. A kayak couldn’t have gotten past us. A piece of driftwood couldn’t have passed by. A seagull couldn’t have gotten by us. Yet this now very strong blip approached us from bow-on, and passed over or under or through us, and then we saw it clearly moving astern. We watched it for about a half mile, then powered up again and continued on our course.

I was hitch hiking through Nevada once. I think I was 15. I’d been stuck in Winnemucca for about four days, just standing there with my thumb out. Girl from a nearby store came out periodically and brought me drinks and snacks. Maybe Pop Tarts; I’m not sure. All the other guys trying to get rides out there got beat up by passing cowboys. But I didn’t have long hair, and maybe they smelled the horse sweat on me, and I was completely left alone. The cow hands would slide their pickups to a stop and beat the shit out of the guys on either side of me, but totally ignore me. How weird was that. The first night, I crawled off into the sage a few hundred yards from the road and was rudely awakened when a freight train doing warp six passed by four feet away. Never saw the tracks. Rocked my world. I’m pretty sure it was a train. Lots of flashing lights, etc., and some sparks, I guessed from the wheels.

But finally one day, mid afternoon, a semi truck stopped and I piled in. We started off down the highway for Salt Lake City. I didn’t like Salt Lake City but I liked getting there because from the west you had to cross the Great Salt Lake Desert, some miles of pool-table-flat salt flats that fascinated me every single time. I wanted to live on them.

We drove for an hour or so out of Winnemucca. Many hours to go to hit the salt flats – no freeway in those days. You crossed the entire country on two or four lane divided highways, through towns with traffic lights and stop signs and huge weird fiberglass hot dogs or hamburgers or lumberjacks on top of restaurants with bad and overpriced food.

I remember things got very, very bright, like the sun was coming down to earth to meet us. The driver was going slower and slower. I saw other cars pulling off onto the shoulder up ahead. I tried to look outside – it was afternoon – but even though it was overcast, it was too bright to look. Driver said he just couldn’t see and he had to pull over. He said it almost apologetically. And I remember hearing our wheels crunch onto the gravel on the right hand shoulder. I saw a car stopped about fifty feet ahead of us, facing us, on his own side of the road. I saw this from the perspective of sitting in the left hand seat inside the truck. No idea why I would have perceived it from the driver’s side. Driver in the stopped car ahead. Just sitting there. Facing us. Nothing in front of him. Bright like a flashbulb that didn’t stop going off. I looked off into the sage of the desert, then it was so bright I couldn’t see anything at all.

Then we were at a stop sign. Truck driver fished for a gear, and we slowly moved out. We’d traveled about three or four miles again when I saw a sign that said Salt Lake City 16 miles. I laughed out loud because it was still hundreds of miles to Salt Lake City. Someone had uprooted a highway sign from around Salt Lake City and transplanted it way back here, just east of Winnemucca. Driver laughed too. Good joke. Then we came around a bend and looked straight-on into the City of Salt Lake. I was stunned. Driver was stunned. I had nothing to say. We looked at each other, at the city, at each other. Both of our brains were churning at full CPU but not producing a single solution to the equation: What the flick just happened? We had not crossed the Salt Lake Desert. I lived for that crossing on every trip. Maybe I’d fallen asleep. But the driver hadn’t. We talked about it in hushed tones, almost reverently. What in the Hell.

We got to my spot in the city, early afternoon, and he pulled over and I hopped out, and I looked up to him and he down to me and we locked eyes for a long, long time. Finally he shrugged and I shrugged and I closed the door and he drove away.

The subject of aliens intrigued me even from early grade school days. The possibility of something beyond the boring here and now. Maybe they could be contacted? Maybe convinced to straighten out some shit around here? I set out to study. I was an industrious little spud. I pestered the school librarian to order in every single shred of text and photos that existed on the subject at the time. There was virtually nothing of a real scientific nature; just a lot of stories from people who were either obviously crazy or plainly questionable. I dismissed the Barney and Betty Hill thing straightway after it hit the news. Nonsense, clearly, because it was too bizarre to be true. I studied every photo of a supposed UFO. All looked faked. After a school-year of diligent study I concluded it was bullshit.

That summer we spent a lot of weekends at a family BBQ far out in the country. The kids played until way after midnight because the adults were drunk. Great fun. We played pin the tail on the bull out in the pasture until there were a few bona fide injuries. One night we looked far down the country lane to see a most disturbing spectacle. About 11 p.m. There was a fog that descended to four feet above ground level; clear air underneath that layer.

Someone noticed car headlights in the distance, coming up the road toward us on the hill. Ok. So what? But the adults kept staring at it, so pretty soon we kids did too. We could see movement in front of the car. Too far away to make out what it was. But it looked unusual. It came closer. It looked more exotic as it came on. Eventually we could see two huge hairy legs, covered in what appeared to be lumps of deformed flesh. There was nothing visible above the tops of the legs, maybe five feet in height. WTF! The kids were all thinking that. The adults were saying it. Only two legs. Huge. Walking slowly. One leg in front of the other. The car about four meters behind it. It just came on, slowly, sedately, like it could eat the entire world and never even miss a step. Ladies cried. Men got their guns. Children hid. Indeed, WTF. I’d been pissed when, at age four, I finally got that there were no flying cars. Supreme disappointment. I’d been born into the wrong era. Accident on my part. But now it seemed that era was really wrong because it was the one that had monsters in it. Oh boink me. Shouldn’t we all run?

It finally came directly in front of the house, still out on the road. It was utterly horrifying. And we finally heard the clip clop of hooves. Oh my God, it was truly a beast. So aliens did exist after all, I was thinking, and now one had come to eat us. Jesus, they must be everywhere. Then it dawned on everyone at about the same moment. It was a horse that had wallowed in the mud somewhere. The weird fog obscured everything above the hips – couldn’t even see its belly. The car headlights contrasted everything below the hips. Someone, probably a parent, was driving the car to illuminate the horse which was probably being ridden by its kid owner, back from a 4-H meeting or some such. Ghastly. Everyone laughed and the drinking commenced.

A few weeks later there was a repeat, but different. The adults started noticing some lights in the sky. Airplanes in the twilight. Clearly. Just medium intensity lights that moved smoothly along, like, well, just like airplanes. Another false alarm. We went back to playing. But the adults kept looking. We sensed their level of alarm growing. Really, people? Really? Again? Really?

As it got dark the lights were more numerous and more clearly defined. I looked up again. I saw one moving smoothly at about the speed of a normal aircraft. Just a single white light of medium intensity. Why the hell was this something we should be looking at? And just before I averted my eyes, the one I was watching did an instant 160 degree turn. It was as instantaneous as the little white balls that came out in the Pong arcade games many years later. The light in the sky was moving at a steady speed. It didn’t slow. It didn’t stop. It simply was next going the same speed on a course 160 degrees from the original course. Well. This was interesting at least.

This same behavior continued for hours. More and more objects came out. Sometimes they reversed course exactly at 180 degrees, like they had hit brick walls and just bounced back off. Sometimes 90 degrees. 30 degrees. Every angle. Sometimes one would move steadily across the sky at about the speed of an airplane, and then streak off at some oblique angle, leaving a trail. Dozens of them. Not even remotely to be confused with meteors or falling stars or shopping mall spotlights. Different phenomenon entirely. Sometimes they appeared to come close to the ground, not far away, then shoot back up to altitude. Sometimes they made regular rounded turns like jet aircraft might. Clear night. All the other stars were visible.  Eventually the adults decided to call a nearby air force base. They said they had nothing going on in the area, and to call the police. Police said to call the sheriff. Sheriff said to try the National Guard. And so it went for about six hours. The adults again went and got their guns. Like that would help. But the drinking stopped. At some point I decided that if I kept looking at them, they would sense it, and come down to visit us. I sure as hell didn’t want that, so I tried to stop looking.

Around two in the morning we went home. I tried to think as little as possible about this and didn’t tell anyone.

Next weekend was a repeat in every way. Now the women were crying again. We could hear the fear in the voices of the adult men – tough guys, otherwise, or so we children thought. Maybe they were wimps, but honestly, there was no easy explanation for this phenomenon, not even now, decades and decades later. The lights looked like stars – pinpoints of light. I reiterate that skies were clear; no clouds at all. The spectacle continued every weekend for several more weeks, then school started and we stopped going out there. In years way later I scoured the UFO report databases and found quite a few references to this exact phenomenon at that exact time. Everyone saw. Everyone was unable to explain it. Way before lasers. Whatever it was, it was…

I didn’t see little green men. I didn’t see physical ships or saucers. I only saw lights doing things that no known aircraft, then or now, could do. Did it make me a believer in UFOs? Not really. It remained something unexplained. I couldn’t tie it to anything except the unknown. But it made me realize that “something” other than what we knew about might be possible. Curiously it didn’t prompt me to go back and start studying UFOs again. I just sort of forgot about all of it after that. For awhile.

I didn’t go to the library anymore, but if I saw something about aliens, I generally took a moment to read it. There was a lot of pretty persuasive anecdotal stuff, but extraordinary claims require extraordinary proof. The notion of aliens was beyond extraordinary. A girl liking me – that was extraordinary. Aliens was fantasy. Probably not enough proof in the world to prove the reality of fantasy, not even my own abduction, weekly, for five decades, with videotape and stills and Geiger counter readings and hundreds and hundreds of Buddhist monks as first hand witnesses. Truly, I needed that much proof. I don’t do leaps of faith. Not even bunny hops.

I was on a pathway of illumination concerning aliens. I just didn’t know it. It took 30 more years for me to know it, but it was inevitable because the real evidence is positively staggering in immensity. I studied those suckers for fifty long years, soundly disbelieving all that time. Then I had to face reality. No leap of faith was required. It was simply admitting that the ludicrous amounts of hard, cold evidence couldn’t all be wrong.

I’ve collected roughly 3900-odd case reports of supposed and claimed actual alien contacts. These cases aren’t just sightings of lights or saucers. Those number in the millions or billions. These are only accounts of actually seeing and/or interacting with alien beings.

Initially the researcher must discount every single one of them as 100% bogus. You can not go into that kind of research with an open mind. Even if your mind is open only a little, your brains will fall out. It takes me about three and a half years to go through my data each time. I’ve gone through it three times – now on the fourth. The first pass was merely for entertainment purposes only. Just light reading. Like watching cartoons. Funny and cute, like the Pink Panther. People lie. Witnesses lie. People hallucinate (quite a lot, actually). People want to be famous. People are stupid, retarded, mentally handicapped, genetically inferior, unworldly, kookoo, woowoo – many, many people are just plain crackers. Maybe the majority of people are crackers. Hell, maybe all people are crackers. In some weird countries I’ve visited I know for a fact that every single individual is clinically insane (for God’s sake, it’s a joke!). So I went at my research from that general perspective. All people in all of the world were crackers, and all of their reports were hallucinations, or dreams, or daydreams, or wishful thinking or attempts at creative writing, whatever. Accepting that as my baseline, I wanted to see if there was oven one tiny shred more compelling than that...

But by the second reading of my material, collected from all over the world over hundreds of years, one thing began to nag at me. Let’s say some goat herder in Peru, in 1921, reported that he saw a glowing disk come down to the ground, and four little alien suckers get out, and they scurry around and pick up some rocks and grass and a few twigs, then a blue light illuminates on the tops of their helmets, and they shoot the poor kid with an orange beam which knocks him on his ass, and they get in the UFO, and it slowly rises up one hundred feet, and there is the overpowering stench of benzene, and the craft glows purple, then green, and shoots away so fast you can’t even track its motion.

Ok. Entertaining story. The kid smoked some shit. Raped some sheeps. Had a lucid dream. Done deal. Dismiss it as nonsense.

But … as an example, maybe the records show another case in northern Canada, above the arctic circle, 1919, and a bunch of natives, out chasing seals on the frozen sea, hoping to bash their skulls in and suck their rendered fat, which I cannot unfortunately recommend, notice a glowing disk come down to the ice, and four little alien suckers get out, and the suits they wear are identical in every minute detail to the ones in Peru in 1921, and they scurry around and pick up some bits of ice and some bear shit and a dead bird, then a blue light illuminates on the tops of their helmets, and they shoot the poor people and their dogs with an orange beam which knocks them collectively on their asses, and they get in the UFO, and it slowly rises up one hundred feet, and there is the overpowering stench of benzene, and the craft glows purple, then green, and shoots away so fast you can’t even track its motion.

Ok. The case has been cross-contaminated. Somehow the data is corrupted. So you go into the case files and find the names of the missionaries the story was reported to in Canada, and they recorded it in the church’s master record which was never available to anyone until 60 years later, and you find the letters they wrote when they wrote home to tell about their experience, and you go find the police record that the sheep herder made in 1921, halfway around the world, and that, too, was documentably entered into a permanent record, and never made available to anyone until 53 years later.

There’s no evidence the sheep herder ever visited the Canadian arctic or had access to the church records in a tiny village on the edge of the ice, and there’s no evidence the natives out on the ice floe ever went to Peru, but still. I mean, come on. The case is bogus. The details are too weird and too closely matched. Somehow, some way, the case has been ruined. So you dismiss it. What else can you do? You purge it and move on.

Then you stumble upon a third identical instance, in South Africa, and 23 children saw it and all independently draw what they see (I’m making up examples here to illustrate a point).

Then 19 people see it again, in 1952, at sea on a ship, and there are supposed photographs of the object as it streaks away and government documents show that government entities suppressed those photos and threatened the photographers. Why?

Ok, ok. Not even compelling to me. I tallied up countless dozens of cases like this, where the same weird phenomenon was seen many times in many places by many people over centuries or decades. It still doesn’t prove the existence of aliens. It just doesn’t. It can’t. Not even close. It’s just mild entertainment. Curious….but only entertainment.

Then you find a case from 1971 in which six police officers saw the same thing, and were warned not to file reports by mysterious Navy (Navy) officers driving vehicles whose license plates trace back to a mysterious zip code which doesn’t exist, but they filed their reports anyway, and you find another case where the crew and eleven passengers of a passenger airliner, lined up on the ramp for taxi, sees the same thing and all crews make a report and lose their jobs but won’t retract the story, and then you find a case where the same thing was reportedly witnessed by five high ranking government officials and the rumor of that sighting gets out, and the officials all deny being anywhere in the same hemisphere on that day, but FOIA requests reveal that they all took planes to and from the same location at exactly the time of the alleged sighting…so they lied about their whereabouts…

But still not proof. Not even close.

You discover that numerous private UFO investigators, who are by the very nature of their work, highly suspect in the credibility department, go to some of the sites and find radiation traces which could not be planted unless many different people had access to the same radioactive material, over many years, at locations around the world, and these investigators all passed polygraphs, which I know a good deal about and I normally respect the results to a fair degree…and then, maybe, if you’re imaginative, you start giving about one tenth of one percent of credibility to the notion of aliens. Then you uncover that complete skeptics go to the same places with the intent of disproving the claims of the original researchers and get the same Geiger counter readings.

That’s how painstaking the process of coming to believe was, for me. Imagine, then, the amount of material I must have studied to have finally come to the conclusion that aliens do, in point of hard cold fact, exist, and that they fairly often go snooping around our planet. You cannot imagine how hard that was for me. If you don’t believe in aliens, you haven’t done the research. Some would argue that if you don’t believe in God, you haven’t done the research – but I have. And I don’t believe in God. I think the whole Jesus Christ thing was a hoax – oh he existed as a man, but I think his miraculous deeds were sheer theater, and remember that I have studied religious claims as vigorously as I’ve studied alien claims and I have come to believe in aliens and to disbelieve in the miracles of Jesus Christ. He was a cool guy. Smart. Engaging. Compassionate. Talented. A magician of sorts. But the son of God? Well, show me God first. God was probably some egocentric alien who had a lot of magic tricks in his saucer and had flown around and watched us Pagan idiots screw up everything we touched and decided that maybe it was time to inject some structure into our society because without it we just weren’t going anywhere, and so set out, with oodles of time to spare, to Amaze the Natives.

“Amaze the Natives” was an option in an ancient computer game, where the player would find himself trying to interact with a bunch of savages, and the savages usually misunderstood every single thing he tried to do for them and attacked him. When the attack became dangerously overwhelming, the player could hit a key called “Amaze the Natives”, and a bunch of mysterious lighting and effects would surround the player for a few seconds, thereby scaring the beJesus out of the natives and making them run away from what they perceived as a magical being. It worked every single time and I used it often. And that, ladies and germs, explains religion – just mythology based on some sophisticated disappearing bird tricks. Probably.

Aliens…is more than that. Aliens aren’t magical and aliens aren’t gods. Aliens just are.

So the point is, assuming aliens exist, and I finally know that they do, it stands to reason that some of them are really, really evolved compared to us. Like a million years. Why not a hundred million years? And they’ve probably learned amazing shit in that time. Look what we’ve learned in a hundred years. My Grandmother lived in a covered wagon in Montana and was amazed at the first report of the first airplane. Later in life she flew jets around the world and saw Star Trek and was a very amazed native when computers got to the point where they could do cool stuff. That’s a hundred years. Think about a hundred million. You can’t.

Interestingly, many alien reports describe events which make the aliens appear to be barely technologically evolved beyond us – such as using flashlights to poke around in bushes at night, and needing old fashioned ladders to get up and down, in and out of their saucers. That leads me to think, maybe, we aren’t so far from building our own anti-gravity units. Certainly within a hundred years. I think within forty.

And as an aside, which is what this entire book really is, think what will happen to our culture when gravity-defying contraptions become commonplace? Roads will atrophy and become overgrown. Regular vehicles will become all but obsolete. The Middle East will descend back into the stew of ignorance it sprouted from – no change, really, except they won’t have the funds to bother the rest of the world so much. Shipping from Amazon will be even quicker than propeller driven drones. There will not be one quiet, private camping spot left on the planet. We will be able to populate the oceans, hovering twenty feet above the surface for decades at a time. We can go have lunch on the moon. Or Mars. Open your mind – because that’s not woo-woo UFO stuff, it’s stuff that will really happen even if aliens don’t exist and never existed. We WILL beat gravity. I promise.

I once spent 12 and a half hours in hard hat diving gear, squished into the mud under a sunken ship that had rolled over onto me while we were attempting to raise it. In that time I did about three lifetimes of philosophical thinking. I want to know what aliens think about life after death, since it seemed, lying at the bottom of the sea under a ship that was trying hard to squish the life from me, that I might have been headed there very soon. I didn’t believe in aliens when I was under that wreck – believing came much later, but I believed in the fun of “what if”. What if aliens existed? Would they know about life after death?

It turns out that lots of people “claim” they’ve talked to aliens and asked them about life after death. In the reports, most aliens refused to reply – they often refuse to reply, or they reply with utter nonsense, maybe because they think we are really that stupid and they like a laugh, but it actually seems that they have been told not to tell us stuff, and so they are either mute, or they answer the question of ‘what’s it like on Venus’ with some utter bullshit about how the people there are all short and very happy and the climate is humid and the preferred music is rock and roll. Often, when replied to with junk like that, the human witness will say in reply, uh, excuse me, and I’m sorry and I mean no disrespect, but we’ve come a little further than that and we already know there’s no life on Venus. We’re really, really sure of it. Then the alien just shuts the F up and maybe sticks a probe up your ass or does something else that will change the focus of your attention.

But occasionally, maybe some aliens didn’t get the memo, and they’ll talk for hours, supposedly, with mere humans, and tell them all kinds of stuff, supposedly, that gets recorded at the time, and comes true later. Like the guy who was given an amazing, intricate mathematical formula, only to have it dove-tail into an equation a university was working on and not solving, decades later. Too many cases of things like that to ignore. Far, far, far too many.

Some aliens, when asked, will supposedly explain that, yes, there is existence after death, but that nothing of the individual remains – which sort of fits with my own idea of what might make sense. Other aliens say nope. Nada. Zip. You die. You’re done. End of story. --Which is depressing as hell for the questioner who had so hoped for so much more. I don’t know of any supposed alien encounter where the alien said yep, sure, don’t worry, you’ll be alive and well and thinking clearly after you die.

In the end I got nowhere poring through the records, looking for an answer to the riddle of life after death. One thing always canceled out another. I look for patterns in many, many cases, not individual experiences. I didn’t find much that was compelling on the subject of life after death. Maybe all aliens are as clueless as we are, even a million years ahead of us in their evolution.

Incidentally, when asked about the existence of God, the answers from aliens were just as varied. One supposedly said, “I’ve traveled all through this universe, and I have never met this person.” And another went into minute detail about the nature of God and how we disrespected Him every day. Well, aliens are welcome to their own mythologies, just as we are, and God speed with that shit.

I’m not an atheist. I so want to believe in God. But I’m a show me the money kind of guy. And I’m not seeing it.

Funny phrase: “A man needs religion like a fish needs a bicycle.”

Cool to toss around. Cute. But bullshit. A man needs religion. And I mean it.

Huh? But you said religion was bullsh—

Yes, I did, and I meant that too. But mankind, at this stage of evolution, still needs it. He needs it to provide structure to his counter-productive, largely silly existence, because he is not smart enough yet to provide it for himself. Maybe someday, when mankind has evolved spiritually and emotionally, he will, then, finally, truly, be above the animal phase, and he’ll be able to map out his own theology of morality without help from some higher magical being. Then he can toss “religion” as it relates to the blind belief in magical deities. I remain stupendously skeptical that God exists. I don’t believe in Him. But we need the idea of Him to help us through this interminable, tawdry phase of cretinism. Just as we need Superman.

Imagine if that super-alien from 2000 years ago would have landed, walked around, talked about stuff, written out some basic Rules of Decent Behavior (RDB), then departed. Forgotten in a few years, or months, or minutes. But add to his performance many aspects that were clearly, to those at the time, magical, (Amaze the Natives) and hell – who can ever forget that. Amaze the Natives, and whatever you say is taken as gospel and that’s that.

I hope we can slowly cull out the magical bullshit from religion, but retain the decency and morality and logic that some religions struggle so valiantly, and fail so often, to impart to us, without going overboard and becoming all-logical Star Trek Spocks. Right now the two, meaning the magical crap and the logical protein of religion, are inseparable, because a factor of Amaze the Natives was required to get and hold our attention. The fantastical crap was just the carrier wave needed to punch through our very thick skulls. Now let’s take the modulated message to heart and forget the nonsense because it was nothing more than theater.

It seems Sodom and Gomorrah have been physically located, and it appears both cities were melted from above and the radioactivity is demonstrable. God doesn’t need radioactive devices to destroy nasty little towns. Oh, those pesky aliens….

My second best friend in the world related that as a young man with hungry mouths to feed he had grown increasingly interested in religion, specifically Christianity, and he had thoughts of studying to become a minister. One night, lying in bed, he asked the question into the darkness and into the void, “Do I have the strength do to this?” He said a booming male voice blasted instantly right back at him, “YES YOU DO.” He said it was so loud and commanding that he thought it must have woken everyone in the house. But it had awoken no one, not even his wife who slept next to him. He took that as his sign, and immediately quit his high paying job and entered the seminary, which meant his family suffered rough times for years. He eventually graduated, found a Lutheran church, and ministered there for eons for very little pay and many, many heartbreaks. I talked with him at great length for forty years, about religion, and God, and my inability to believe, and as encouragement he related that story to me, and I never had the heart to explore it with him, namely by pointing out that some otherworldly entity telling you that you had the strength to study something, didn’t automatically mean the thing you wanted to study had any more credibility than Harry Potter’s fiction. Think about the question that was asked and think about the answer supplied. I never mentioned that analysis and he never thought it. He died telling the nurses he was going to see Jesus now. I hope he did. But I suspect he just went to a place where lots and lots of other souls wait more, to go see Jesus.

I was once so sick with food poisoning that I saw something which I interpreted to be my soul, hovering around me, a couple of feet away and a few feet above my bed. This vision persisted through the worst of the illness, about 20 hours. I actually felt I could judge how close I was to death by how far away that little sucker hovered. I had the notion that if it flew away, “I” would disappear and cease to exist, but that “it”, which was just a kind of unthinking representation of my base character, would continue onward, somewhere, and that someday, somewhere, maybe accidentally or inadvertently, a new life would sprout from that seed, which would be made “of” me, but would not be me. That….is my notion of what happens at death. But God knows, I could be wrong. I hoped for much, much more – or nothing -- lying under that wreck with way too much time to think. Either way was ok. But please not something unpleasant or miserable or half-baked or which I was not in control of, though I surmised that, as far as I knew, I hadn’t been in control of one single damned thing before I was born, when I was actually dead, so why would I think I might be in control of anything when I was dead again? I didn’t like that thought, but it seemed probably the most realistic and that was depressing then and still is now. Give me liberty or give me death. Give me control or give me non-existence.

I think a lot about aliens. You will too if you do the research. If you don’t want to do the research, you can’t be qualified to offer opinions such as “Aliens don’t exist.” Do the research and then say aliens don’t exist. You won’t.

Many people fantasize about what they might do if they suddenly had superhuman powers. According to many reports, some aliens do have superhuman powers, but I’m not going to say I believe that – only that some reports suggest it. But the kind of power I fantasize about isn’t necessarily super human.  My dream is to do something. The technology almost…exists today to do it in effect. I’m thinking maybe some aliens already have what’s needed to do it properly.

I want invisibility, to be utterly and completely undetectable, and I want the ability to walk through walls, and I want a camcorder that will display a live image onto any surface I choose – like the underside of a frikking cloud or the walls of every skyscraper in any city of my choosing. I want to be able to attend any government meeting, or even a conversation between a couple of government nitwits, and to broadcast it to the entire world in such a way that the authenticity of the content is beyond reproach. I simply want The Truth, and I want to be able to disseminate it to all the people of the world. I want to detail and expose every shady deal, every instance of corruption and criminality and skulduggery and rank stupidity and incompetence and mental retardation by every politician and corporate leader on earth. The population may then do anything it wants with that data. The world can ignore it. The world can act on it. The world can debate it. The world can overthrow nations because of it. The world can leave the world as it is. It won’t be my job or purpose to make those decisions. It will only be my purpose to illuminate. I’ll be nothing more than a flashlight. If I had one wish in this lifetime, that would be it. Some shit would change. Enough shit? I honestly don’t know. But the world population deserves to make that decision. I think wars would end when every country and every army knew every single thing about the movements of every other country and army. Maybe not. Let’s debate it. As it stands, no one knows a damned thing about anything. And that’s why humanity and society persist in a very gritty and questionable and counter-productive environment.

Truth would be the greatest gift I could give humanity because nothing is as liberating as the realization of reality.

Would I abuse this power and expose things I shouldn’t? Like what goes on in the locker room of the Dallas Cheerleaders? Only on YouTube. Maybe the world could be given an off-switch. If or when enough of the world thought my content wasn’t relevant or useful, the world could block that broadcast. If it turned out that “the world” was blocking legitimate content, then so be it. That would mean the world wasn’t ready for, and didn’t deserve, The Truth. That would be the world’s decision, not mine. I only want the world to have the option. Now it doesn’t have that and humanity is stalled and I question whether humanity can ever truly evolve until something like this is possible. The Truth will set you Free. Secrets will keep you in the Dark Ages.

As I study alien data I have only really come to believe one thing: Aliens exist. Anything beyond that is educated speculation at this point, but speculation is fun because there are no consequences to being wrong. I have no idea where they come from – probably many, many different places, maybe even different dimensions, but “I” don’t know where. I think maybe, maybe, based on 50 years of intelligent research and research biased to disbelieve, that many, many alien cultures have visited earth and are visiting earth now. I think this maybe, but I don’t “believe” it. I only know as hard fact that “some” aliens exist and “a few” have visited earth.

I think maybe aliens come from many civilizations that are not even aware of each other. I think many alien civilizations are aware of each other but don’t interact, and maybe don’t, or can’t, even communicate. I think maybe some very “advanced” civilizations still squabble and even war with others. Who knows what they disagree over. How many humans can be BBQ'd on Zeta Reticuli in any given month?

I think maybe some aliens are assholes, and some are merely observers, and some are violent, and some – most – are peaceful. Most are curious. Some appear to not be overly curious. Some….appear to be stupid. But appearances can be deceiving. Never judge a book by its cover.

Some, a few, or a lot, may be studying our DNA to find solutions to their own genetic and reproductive problems. I think maybe the majority of alien DNA research is used to find, and alter, various species and physiologies around the universe because, perhaps, many, many aliens believe that their highest calling is to spread the seeds of life wherever they can. Maybe, some aliens are capable of limited terra-forming so as to make some planets more habitable to some species. Maybe aliens tweak the DNA of some species so as to make them more adaptable to certain conditions on certain planets. The research suggests….suggests, mind you, that some aliens keep stocks of unspeakably bizarre creatures, like flying Noah’s Arks, and occasionally let them out to play and stretch their legs on our planet. --Carefully monitored of course, so they don’t eat a bunch of humans and cause a stir. But sometimes maybe they do. Study Dyatlov Pass, Russia. Study all of it, not just the stuff that’s easy to find on the Internet and of dubious accuracy. That’s far from an isolated incident. Far from it. Does that scare you? It frankly and honestly scares me.

Perhaps some aliens have ideas of world domination and even virtual slavery. Maybe there exists a kind of Galactic Federation under whose protection we currently – not always in the past – find ourselves.

Maybe some aliens are lecherous. Maybe many aliens are spiritually advanced and loving. Maybe many aliens are nuts and bolts worker types without imaginations or higher callings, like earth ants. Maybe some aliens believe in a single higher power, like God. Maybe just as many don’t. Maybe many aliens are just mechanical surrogates. Maybe some are holograms. Maybe some are barely manifest into our dimension, from other dimensions, and so don’t appear wholly solid or real. The phenomenon of black “shadow people” seems far too well documented to be only imagination. So what are they? I’m nearly convinced they exist. But what in God’s name are they? Quantum physics seems to offer the only possible answers so far.

Maybe some aliens can transit between galaxies in the blink of an eye. Maybe some take months or years to cross even one galaxy. Maybe some alien cultures still have wars, which bodes poorly for our hope of outgrowing it.

Maybe virtually all aliens communicate between themselves using means that are completely beyond our imagination. That’s why I think SETI is an absurd waste of time. I doubt that any civilization is stuck using puny radio waves for long. How long did we use two cans and a string? About an hour.

A new technology is being developed to look for planets that have created pollution. Again, I think it’s a waste of time. The window of time in which any race produces pollution is narrow. Either they figure it out and stop it, or they die. What are the odds of just stumbling onto a civilization that is operating within that tiny window of stupidity? Nil.

Maybe some aliens eat cows. Maybe many aliens are fascinated with dogs. Maybe some aliens are confused when they try to communicate with earth animals and earth animals turn out to be not that advanced.

I’m throwing out maybe after maybe because these are things that are trends in alien reports.

Maybe many aliens are in more or less humanoid form, because, after all, that basic format is pretty handy; tried and true, as it were. Maybe some, or many alien bodies are bizarre beyond our imaginations, like creatures who live in 5000 feet of water under the sea are bizarre – to us.

I keep saying “maybe” because I. Don’t. Know. But research of thousands of reports “suggests” certain patterns. Patterns can suggest reality, or patterns can suggest that types of reports were simply copied, one lay reporter to the next. But that’s where the research begins to be really intriguing, because you can try to connect the dots between reporters and in many or most cases, but you can’t. That means the majority of case reports aren’t being artificially replicated.

Of all the cases I’ve studied, how many do I think are absolutely true?


The rest fall into various shades of maybe.

The Travis Walton case is true.

The Pascagoula case is true.

The Cash Landrum case is true.

Betty and Barney Hill…? I struggle with that one but not a lot. There are too many cases that are much better documented that I don’t believe either. And later in life, Betty was prone to see aliens in the cockpit of every passing airplane and the driver’s seat of every passing car. For me, that takes the stuffing out of her case.

Of the 3900+ cases I’ve studied, three are absolutely true. Maybe 35% are absolute hoaxes. Maybe 50% are lucid dreams, Halcyon dreams, psychotic breaks with reality, misinterpretations, hauntings – if ghosts exist. That leaves a much smaller number to think about. Of all those remaining maybes, their credibility runs, for me, from .00001% to 99.99%. The three cases above have a credibility factor of 100%. Cases that particularly intrigue me are poor people fried by radiation when they got too close to an inhabited object. There are many “reports” and actual medical records and case files. How many actual true cases of radiation poisoning? Dozens.

It may be that a few hundred of my studied cases are actually true but I have no way to confirm it. But do the numbers matter one whit? No. As long as one case is true, it doesn’t matter if a million cases are true. The point has been proved.

Should we fear aliens?

Yes. I think, maybe, some aliens are pretty damned rough around the edges and don’t give a flying kumquat about us. We are just bugs. Bugs to be toyed with and tormented for fun.

Should we revere aliens? Yes. I think maybe some alien races are hella smart plus spiritually evolved (not always one and the same thing), and not as disgusting and backwards as we are, and truly care about us, and if they exist, they should be held in high regard.

Should we “worship” aliens? Oi! Aliens are physical beings, just like us. Should you worship the really smart guy down the street? Give me a break. Respect is enough, if they’re decent and they’ve earned it. “Worship” is what got us into this whole silly religion thing. Let’s not go there again.

What are the odds you’ll ever see an alien? I think the 3900 cases I have collected represent maybe, maybe .01% of the cases that should have been reported but never were. Maybe it’s more like .0001%. Most experiences are/were never reported and governments squelched many, many that were reported. And many reported and documented cases are floating around out there that I simply haven’t stumbled onto yet. Your odds are slim of seeing an alien, but keep looking up. I mean physically. Keep glancing skyward because that’s the direction they’ll come from. Not from down the street at 7-11.

What about alien ships, flying saucers, cigar shaped whatevers….what are they made of? How are they constructed? Only a few reports suggest they’re nuts and bolts contraptions – maybe a few hundred cases in my records. Those appear to be “brick and mortar” type things (i.e. metal plates with welds or rivets – usually rivets). The vast majority report no visible seams inside or out and they are strong beyond our ability to imagine. How the hell could anything be built like that? I think it’s pretty simple: they aren’t “built”, they’re grown

Like from a living seed or something? Actually, no. I see no reports (ok, few) that suggest any ships are or were living things. I think many aliens have simply figured out how to “program” certain materials to sort of construct themselves and to follow a plan as they do so – like DNA is a blueprint for a physical body. Nanobots? Maybe, but I think probably far beyond that. I think they actually do self-construct and so are nearly perfect in nearly every way, right down to the molecular level. Think 3-D printer, times a billion.

Lots and lots of reports describe pieces of ships being analyzed. In all known cases the materials are pretty-much terrestrial, except that on the molecular level those mundane substances are just superb – beyond anything we can produce. There are a number of convincing reports of materials having been studied and determined to be non-terrestrial and then having vanished. Proof? No.

Propulsion systems? Plenty of reports suggest that a liquid metal is pushed to virtual light speeds inside a tube, and once that speed is reached, all sorts of bizarre new energies can be tapped. Governments know a great deal about the process, but can’t replicate it. Yet. Maybe. Would they tell you if they could? How long have you been around governments?

Remember, gravity is everywhere, and it can be tapped and collected and directed and focused and used. It’s not so different from plain old magnetism.

How many alien civilizations exist “out there”? The number of around 180,000 to 210,000 in the Milky Way has popped up a few times in the reports. Honestly, maybe there are only two or three races, or maybe there are millions, or maybe the number is infinite. I know there’s more than one.

A curiosity: Many, many reports have it that the aliens asked the observers politely if they wanted to come and live on an alien planet, promising all kinds of perks and cool things. In all of the cases I know of, in which someone was asked, and said no, the aliens didn’t pursue it but just said okidokie. We understand your decision. Bye. Have a nice day.

Of course if the aliens had said no, sorry, you’re gonna go with us anyway, or if there were no witnesses to the invitation and the person went along, there would be no reports except as generic missing persons with no clues, and there are plenty of those. There are many reports where numerous witnesses in a group were asked if they’d like to go, and all said no, and the aliens went away, but then one or two of the group (or seven) willingly went back to the spot and were never heard from again. Truth or fiction? You decide. Are they contrived? The disappearances are well documented in police reports and church records. But who can say where those souls went?

Should you run and hide if you see aliens land and depart a UFO? I used to say no, of course not. Announce yourself and hope for communication. Now, I say stay and observe, and wait to see if you have a good feeling, or a bad one, then act on a case by case basis, knowing you may, and probably will, totally misjudge the event and either love it, or regret it when they break out the charcoal and the hickory chips and invite you to dinner, attendance mandatory. No, I don’t know of any cases where people were reported to have been eaten, though there’s a sprinkling of reports that are pretty suggestive of some very bad stuff. But honestly, if the observers were eaten, there wouldn’t be any reports to study. How many humans around the world go missing every year and are never found. More than 4,000,000. Many of those fell into the sea or a river or were burned up or changed their names or got eaten by critters somewhere. But not most. Where are the bodies? No one is finding them in any appreciable numbers. Aliens commonly tell observers that they take humans every day – usually to be relocated on some world where a civilization needs to be built. No aliens have said they want humans for a zoo, but of course, no aliens would say that.

I just report the trends in the reports. Reports are not facts. Reports are simply interesting instances of “what ifs”. What if report number 2203 is true? Indeed, what if? Because it might be. I read everything as fiction, but with the thought far in the back of my mind saying, well, what if. What bloody if? What if this one is true, because there are 54 instances of this exact thing on 4 different continents going back 600 years. Is it all coincidence or fabrication? Maybe. There are lots and lots of bizarre coincidences in reality, and even more fabrications. Every single inmate in every single prison has some fantastical fabricated tale about how he or she is innocent. It’s in our nature to make stuff up.

Do aliens hurt or kill people on purpose because they’re sadistic assholes? According to the reports, yes, sometimes, but rarely. But sometimes… And sometimes is too much.

Do they do it accidentally too? According to the reports, yes, fairly often, fairly often, and sometimes it is absurdly well documented. It appears that it’s not uncommon for aliens to be, well, careless.

Do aliens mutilate cattle and other critters?

I am not convinced. But I don’t disbelieve, either. Where’s the beef? Maybe they get hungry, but if it’s happening I don’t think that’s the motivation. They appear to usually only want certain parts – or do they? If they’re snatching whole cows, there would be no remains to report or investigate. In point of fact huge numbers of cattle worldwide go missing without a trace. But I worked for years as a cowboy on rustler patrol for a gargantuan ranch, and I know firsthand how many folks like a little free beef on the side. I estimated that about half of our stolen cows were going to local sheriff’s deputies (66 head in just one night), but that’s another book. I suspect aliens have a keen interest in only very specific parts of cows, not as delicacies, but as indicators of environmental conditions over periods of time. The records are rife with accounts of UFOs hanging around ranches at night where mutilated cattle are found eventually, but reports are just reports.

I also lived in a region (the Idaho Panhandle) where devil worshipping seemed to be the regional pastime – that and drinking and beating wives -- and as owner of a small airport, the pilots who rented space from me often, often spotted dead beeves out in lonely places. We would usually take a STOL aircraft back to the spot and land and check them out, but they always appeared to us to have been terrestrially molested – humans, not aliens. We just informed the farmers, who always shook their heads and said yep – devil worshipers again – seven cows this year – and that would be the end of it. We were sure it was Satan’s misguided little children because there were always traces of humans having been there, little rings of sacrificed chickens, whatever.

What would we do on their planet? Would we sample just a few of their critters if certain parts of those critters could yield really interesting data? Of course we would.

There are documented cases in which cows or wildlife are found dead, having impacted the ground hard and fast judging by the hole they made, and their bones are just splinters. Hit by cars? No. Only hitting the ground at terminal velocity can cause injuries like that. So how did they reach terminal velocity? Did some farmer shoot them out of a cannon, 23 miles away? Not likely. So what happened to them? Is there an elephant in the refrigerator? I’m not saying there is. I’m asking you if there is. So is there? How does an Elk impact the ground at a 90 degree angle at 157 mph? His chute didn’t open?

Do aliens have anything to do with Bigfoot? Since I don’t believe in Bigfoot, I can’t say, but many reports link the two together. Show me a Bigfoot and I’ll ask him. Or I’ll run. Whichever.

So how DO they fly around, anyway? One thing that’s interesting is that reports that go back hundreds of years, contrasted against reports in the last 50 years, which sometimes describe what the aliens say are their propulsion systems, often have similar looks and configurations. One thing that is extremely commonly reported is that when a UFO lands, it zips into a position maybe 50 to 300 feet above the ground, and then slowly, lazily wafts down to the ground, sort of sashaying back and forth like a falling leaf. People report this as being so bizarre it boggles their minds. It seems illogical. But is it really? Non-believers say these reports are obviously hoaxes because big, heavy, physical objects never behave like that. I don’t see it as bizarre at all. By manipulating a gravity field, the aliens have made their ship nearly, nearly weightless…and they just let gravity take it down slowly and gently. Maybe it has the area of a tennis court, but weighs only three pounds, because they have established an anti-gravity field above it that negates all of its weight except three pounds. Take a kite and drop it from a second story window. What does it do? It wafts gently downward, sashaying back and forth.

Ok, so how do they take off then?

According to reports, some (some) seem to use a regular old mechanical lifting system (interior ducted fans?) to get up into the air maybe fifty feet. They hover there for a minute and the strong stench of a benzene type product comes down to gag the witnesses. Then they shift over to the anti-gravity drive, and WHAM/ZIP, they’re gone like a bullet. Why does this appear to be the case? Because there are a number of reports that say the craft rose up in that manner to a level of about 15 or 20 feet, and hovered, and all kinds of shit – sticks, weeds, litter, comes flying up off the ground to stick itself to the bottom of the craft or to fly up past it. This tells me that they just engaged the anti-gravity field before they were up high enough, and it drew a bunch of debris off the ground. It doesn’t seem mysterious at all to me. There are countless reports of humans and animals who ventured under the rising craft, being drawn up off the ground as well. Even a horse and a number of cows.

Morons will often say something brilliant like, “Space travel is impossible because no body could ever withstand the G forces required.” When trains were built it was decreed that no human body could ever live at speeds in excess of 50mph. But most accounts have it that the aliens move by manipulating gravity. That means they feel absolutely no G forces at all. Right at this moment you’re traveling around 2,726,544 miles an hour. Did your body get torn apart by G forces? The notion is just stupid. People will go to lengths well beyond ludicrous to try to explain away the elephant in the refrigerator and they make fools of themselves in the attempts.

Lots of reports of UFOs near the surface of some body of water, and either making a large, rounded, smooth depression in the water underneath it, which would argue that they are manipulating gravity to push against the earth’s gravity, or cases where the water is being pulled up toward the UFO like a water spout, which would indicate that it was manipulating gravity above it to pull itself up against earth’s field. These reports go back many hundreds of years. Are they all bullshit? Very possibly they are, yes. I make no claim whatsoever to their authenticity. I claim only that people reported this stuff.

How do they go so fast? Einstein said light speed was beyond ludicrous-speed and therefore impossible.

Numbers of reports have it that the aliens told people to give up this rocket shit already. It’s a dead end. Give up trying to go anywhere as if traveling from point A to point B. Rather, think “sideways”. It hurts the brain like the notion of time travel hurts the brain. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t make sense. Remember, gravity is faster than light. I started saying that in the mid 1960’s. I don’t know why; it just seemed obvious. Now I see it crop up occasionally in various texts. And at least one alien has reportedly said exactly that to one witness. And now, too, it looks as though there may be tiny holes in Einstein’s theory – exceptions, at least.

(Ended here at the halfway mark of the book)




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