Critical Prose & Poetic Commentary regarding UFOs and their astonishing ancillaries, consciousness & conspiracy, plus a proud sufferer of orthorexia nervosa since 2005!

Saturday, October 31, 2015

The Butter Melts In His Mouth!

Frick and Frack!  The butter melts messily...

"One more thing: Don't forget that [Emma Woods] has, since she began her vilification campaign against [David Jacobs], turned herself from a nobody into an international personality by playing the victim card. She has been on radio shows, written articles, and been the subject of extensive debate across the online world. I don't know if she has earned any money from any of these pursuits, but she is far from an unknown now. She's made herself into an object of sympathy."

"So who is exploiting whom?"
Gene Steinberg Host/Executive Producer, The Paracast

What gravid idiocy. What stark misogyny. What smug intellectual cowardice on the part of Gene Steinberg! 

"Playing the victim card" is a snap when you see a "doctor," expect to be treated with "respect" and "professional courtesy," and are instead treated like a toy for the amusements of a slack-jawed psychopath and woo-dabbler the likes of a David Jacobs, imo, and then relegated to victimhood! "Playing the victim," one finds, is effortless exercise where one is forced to same and is an ACTUAL victim, Steinberg.

"International personality" is the weakest tea for an alias, Steinberg, a ridiculous accusation when she'd trade it all back to have never been introduced to Jacobs at all! Moreover, how pleasurable is that "fame" and "celebrity" for you were it imposed on daughter, wife, or mother?  Would that make you proud? ...Maybe you!

In pursuit of justice, the recapture of self-respect, and to alert others to the clear and present danger of a too celebrated psychopath in their midst, imo, she was a guest on _few_ shows, written _few_ articles, and endured only a mawkish celebrity as the subject of "debate" in the online world... the butt of smears and attacks by Jacobs' insentient fan-boys and lick-spittles alluded to earlier. What _fun_!

...And leave it to the money-grasping and shamelessly begging insentience that is Gene Steinberg to wonder if she has "made any money" on her intellectual rape and horrific abuse, eh? How like Gene, am I right? 

See, she didn't make _herself_ into an object of sympathy. She was forced to same by the inappropriate and unwanted dalliance of a smug slubberdegullion, only, and one ever thinking, only, of himself. What could possibly be the mechanics of Woods' "profit"?

Indeed! "Who _was_ exploiting whom"?  Gene Steinberg, money grubbing taint sneeze, wants to know.

Friday, October 30, 2015

The Center Of The Universe

...Is consciousness.

I believe we're, each of us, the center of the universe... in a Universe of many, many centers. Attendant to that, each of us is subject to the most extreme and unendurable loneliness... You don't believe that?
Acquire some "immune deficiency," be gay in a straight and hostile microcosm, or fall agnostically outside some religious clique in the bible belt.
Get leprosy.  Declare yourself a Liberal in a Red State.
No, you ~are~ alone.  Eight, or eighty?  Blind, crippled or crazy?  Riding, walking... crawling? Alone.  "Alone enroute to the alone" as it has been written.  That's why any love shared, as was noted by Terence McKenna and Robert Anton Wilson on their deathbeds, is so important.  Nothing else has value at the end.
Further, as you perceive your multi-verse from this conjectured center perspective, your meager senses collate conflicting information to collude some kind of interpretation of it all... an interpretation that you can live with, frankly, without too much ulceration or illness.  Don't hold your breath.  Your interpretation is likely false.  Cognitive Dissonance won't shore you up forever or at all.
It's all happening to you, after all.  It's you to endure the "slings and arrows"... even if to only to be aware of the slings and arrows endured by an adjacent neighbor.  "Island status" is unachievable even if  not preferred, and the bell remains to "toll for thee," alone, regardless.
Some people have some small support for their lonely fragility. Many do not. Pause to count any blessings.  I shall.
Face it, reader! It has never been the “rag-heads” and the “crackers” and the “niggers” and the “spics”, and the “hebes...” All that is, is confabulating smokescreen... a bald mechanism of distraction to focus an individual on meaningless trifles so those same individuals won't see UFOs hovering right over their own leaf-bagged heads!
It’s just you, reader, and you alone... targeted (for all practical purposes), provoked to forget that which perhaps watches stealthily from those UFOs many sincere people are seeing every single day... What's a UFO?  Well that the thing, isn't it.  We don't know and so most deny... apart from the person honest with themselves who reasons reasonably that they are very much there, and decidedly.  I digress.
Reality?  You buy in!  You decide!  You process and collate and make your choice!
Without reason, we give in to the hate! We refuse to forgive and forget. We put the derision and bad will in the minds of our children as a function of simply standing silent.  We allowed or otherwise facilitated the creation of a black-ops government stubbornly and officiously operating outside all our control. We allowed the national debt to sail into the trillions. We mortgaged our future to the meter man so he could attach his chain to the ring in our nose! We may even be the one throwing trash from our bleeding cars!  Rest assured it's us keeping the saucers from landing and enlightenment at bay.
You may be coerced and misled or even driven and forced, perforce... but you acquiesce; you submit. You give inYou allow...
Change relevant gears, reader, and consider what Henry Beston wrote in 1928... consider humankind is, too, that singular animal too filled with hubris and arrogance as you read his words.
"We need another, wiser, and perhaps more mystical concept of animalsRemote from universal nature, and living by complicated artifice, man and civilization surveys the creature through the glass of his limited knowledge, and sees, thereby, a feather magnified, and the whole image in distortion. We patronize them for their incompleteness, for their tragic fate of having taken form so far below ourselves ... and therein we err, and greatly err. For the animal shall not be measured by man. In a world older, and more complete than ours they move finished, and complete, gifted with extensions of the senses we have lost, or never attained ... living by voices we shall never hear... They are not property; they are not underlings! They are other nations, caught with ourselves in the net of life and time ... fellow prisoners of the splendor and travail of the Earth."
"...Kind’a makes another point, too, don’t he"?
What brand of respect are you showing for the splendor and travail of the earth and by extension... the multiverse?  How far above the animals and existentiality do you think you are?
Dominion can only mean stewardship, brothers, and sisters, anything else is psychopathy! Caretaker, not plunderer! Friend, not master! Hand, not fist! Light, not darkness!  Mammal not reptile!  Perhaps others of the multiverse have internalized this where we have only ever prosecuted the meager pretense for same...
To those a billion years forward of us, what are we (you) but a barely remarkable if somewhat messy and unfinished experiment? What are our Nav-Starred SUVs to that which travels thought-quick between the stars?
There is our reluctance and our cowardly unwillingness; can you see it? Moreover, I suspect that the capability alluded to is all within reach even if it is not presently within our grasp, reader. That's my  suspicion.
...And while true that there is no "I" in team, there is a "me" if you're flexible with regard to letter order.  ...Or willing to consider the subject obliquely. That's right.
Read on.

Tuesday, October 27, 2015

The Muse You Choose...

You're disgusted with the state of things. You're impatient for some change. You suspect your right wing leadership's dissembling and insane.
You feel as though you've been betrayed. You suffer disrespect. You tolerate a government not remotely circumspect.
You perceive there is conspiracy. You discern it lives and breathes. You gather it has been employed... to bring you to your knees.
And you know that there are UFOs.  You see them for yourself.  Your culture seems opposed to one who tries to know ones self.
You cannot trust your mainstream. You smell its artful lie. There's much pretense for foolish lies that nothing haunts our sky.
You're revolted by religion, and the "Fundies" make you sick. You know invented deities do the bidding of these pricks.
Is "science" your social arbiter?  Is it god or mal-used tool? Do you let it dictate policy?  Too, you dread its turgid rule.
Do errant posers profit? Do they prosecute their "need"?  Do they blandly soil the shoulders of the giants of our breed?
Are you sickened by society? ...Abhor the status quo? You are fed up with a "system" which precludes your "right to know."
You are trifled by obnoxious trolls! Do they caper, leap and dance? These ghouls of ...'un'-revision... so complacently they'd prance!
ou are sick and tired of being played for a clue-robbed—hapless—tool. You feel short-changed flotsam, slighted chump... affronted fool.
You might sense a new reality?  You're made outraged and contentious?  You are finished with indignity! You are ripe for the seditious!
Yes, snub their hijacked networks, friend. Refuse their print and graph. Reject their artless selling, puerile prose, or photograph!
schew "convenient" history. Avoid contrived accounts.  Disbelieve authorities of mainstreams who don't count.
ead ~forbidden~ indexes. Think outside their box. Explore the unexplorable. Explode what's closed and locked.
Question all authority. Demand what's just and fair. Leaping up from bleeding knees... presume  the guts to dare!
Speak the truth to power!  Let them know your thoughts.  Voice your felt convictions, friend, before you mourn their loss!
The future's near upon you, and it's speeding as it comes, but you are more prepared for that; you marched to ~different~ drums. What drums are those, some sneer and smirk from short Cartesian pews? Well, that which finally comes from you, and that's a muse ~you~ choose.



Sunday, October 25, 2015

Feschino And Air War With ET!

Feschino and Friedman, brothers in arms!

Frank Feschino and Alfred Lehmberg tear the lid off Flatwoods and The Summer Of Saucers 1952 for the first two hours on Salt Lake City talk radio! 


20151024 Fringe Radio Frank Freschino Jr. Alfred Lemhberg Beuna Tomalino Janet Decat Grimm Gorri.MP3

Tuesday, October 20, 2015

Night Journeys In Ufology

Review Of Connors Aural
History 'Night Journeys
In Ufology'
...Unsung Heroes...

By Alfred Lehmberg

...Unsung Heroes... These could be defined as critically necessary persons better than yourself, persons about which one ordinarily remains ignorant. Am I right?

These could be people who use the personal stone of their singular drive and constructive initiative to plug away at pertinent but tediously detailed grunt works—toils of brave intellect—and who actually flesh out the bones of our aggregate cultural advancement, grease civilizations wheels, or put the "there" there when the clueless are standing around plaintively wailing "where... where." Could they be further defined as persons who take the long hard haul in the aggregate production of our meaningfully productive aggregate human consciousness? Could they take this arduous trek only as a result of selflessly honest conscience and earnest endeavor on their own?  ...Seems so.

One finds they can't be effusive enough about these people, forgetting they have the roughest row to hoe. These are folks, you see, who handily satisfy the requirements of the rare person who honorably endures the grueling "assembly strain" of an evidentiary audit trail, data base, or catalogue... and does so with discipline and an eye to the rules of evidence. Tough work and thankless.

Some of these persons can finally be defined as individuals braving unjust negative attentions from conflicted, biased, and contrary social *arbiters*...reflexive naysayers ...arbitrary cowards, as a final point, cowards with a mangy dog in the hunt... cowards who attack and degrade "unsung heroes" because their own very palsied intellectual investment is voided... and they are threatened by having to redo work they'd wrongly presumed abundantly done?  Yes.

An idle mind... is a tool.

I further define these People as persons who take the high hard road for little notice, less celebration, and the least possible (very likely in deficit! ) remuneration. There will be no money in it.  

The reader knows who these people are... they're the selfless men and women who efficaciously network, constructively frame, and creatively facilitate the very productive data-stream we all swim in... ...because it's correct thing to do.

These persons operate at all societal levels and stations in self-deprecating shadows as if they would seem to be more comfortable in them. They perform such, in this manner, at all of life's stations and at all walks of life... true, but, in an effort to focus attention on the variety of "Unsung Hero" discussed in this essay... at least those "life-walks" requiring the "amassing and compiling," the "tabbing and indexing," the "cross-referencing and hyper-linking" of critical evidentiary information bases already alluded to.

Consider. Superstar lawyers have their diligent legal assistant or that star quickly implodes. Brilliant research Doctors have their staffs or there is no data field they can productively mine. Police commissioners have their grunt-working line cops supplying all the "Sherlock" or the serial killer remains undetected and out of sight... Presidents—especially GWB—have their *secretary* (Lilly Tomlin in "The West Wing") managing the very air that President breathes or that President discovers he can't walk and chew gum at the same time. Hmmm... ...but I begin to digress.

The serious studies of Ufology have, of course, many unsung persons of this heroic caliber. Such a person would be typified by those resembling Robert Gribble.

Bob Gribble. A more anonymous collection of small mouth noises could hardly be deliberately considered.

John Smith? Jane Jones? Wendy Connors? Who is Robert Gribble?

Interested as far back as 1955, Robert Gribble began his first order, first of its type, and very seminal Phenomena Research Reporting Center (PRRC) in November, 1974. By the following year, and throwing caution to brave winds, he began to refer to his center as the UFO Reporting Center. Later, because good ideas do, the UFO Reporting Center evolved in scope to become known as the National UFO Reporting Center (NUFORC). A productive *novelty* was enjoined, was decidedly off, and is still running!

Mr. Gribble would tirelessly man the helm of this report collection activity until 1994 when it would be taken over by the able Peter Davenport, another "UnSunger," ...when Gribble retired from the active grind.

From the humblest of beginnings in late 1974, Mr. Gribble would produce an organization of rare fidelity and trust, finally, providing a singularly non-judgmental "Joe Friday" no-nonsense and just-the-facts type of "place" or "nexus" in a society generally hostile to that concept?... ...but a place in which people might feel adequately comfortable... ...reporting their ubiquitous encounters with unidentified flying objects and the equally abundant and highly strange ancillaries of same.

In this new atmosphere? Reports quickly doubled those for previous years. Cue your most hopeful music, reader.

Perhaps because Gribble relieved a conflicted officialdom of its responsibility to do this universally necessary and ultimately required work, Gribble saw a heretofore unparalleled amount of cooperation with law enforcement, FAA radar, Sea-Tac Radar and even the military itself. This is one of the main reasons Gribble's organization was successful in accumulating over 30 years worth of hard data regarding UFOs, and what makes it credible, relevant, and important to us now.

A preponderance—all one needs is one—very likely happened, reader, you see?   It is happening now, and it will happen with greater and greater frequency as the future approaches, this writer suspects.

...But it was this assistance he received from the extant *authorities*—an ideal way, remember, to alleviate their own inherent official responsibilities regarding a phenomena being witnessed by thousands of quality people—that garnered the program its lasting success! A cowardly and disingenuous mechanism of Distance and Plausible Deniability once again for the *authorities*... still, the work got done!

Gribble made tape recordings of Americans, everyday and otherwise, who found themselves confronting something completely outside their experience... ...scared folks who needed to talk about it with someone... only someone who wasn't spring-loaded to thinking they were insane... or lying... or just stupid!

Let me digress a bit to remind the reader that one may BE legitimately skeptical of UFOs, boys and girls, but it REMAINS that diverse persons of education, experience, and quality from all life's stations continue, as they have for many, many years, to observe objects in the sky they can't explain or hardly even accept themselves...

Smoke that!

What Bob Gribble did was to let real people talk about real experiences in their own real words! What a concept! This is a concept for which I am profoundly thankful. The reader can be similarly effected.

See, it's another set of strong nails et al affixed to the coffin of our insentient ignorance in this matter regarding UFOs... ...UFO that are real, reader!

Forget the airy proclamations of intellectually constipated Brits via the "Condign Report." Ignore James Randi as he chuckles and snorts his reflexively derisive dismissive-ness. Dismiss the acolytes of a moldering Philip Klass as they smirk and preen their back-stepping CSICOPian cants. You see... and I quote Wendy Connors, "We have this record, a historical record of rare quality in our hands right now," to the stirring contrary! Thanks to the tireless Ms. Connors? You can have it in your hands, too... Be amazed.

Entirely convincing all by itself ... even if *merely anecdotal*... ...when it is inserted into an incendiary evidentiary equation with other factors... factors like ...vetted photographic evidence... documented historical evidence... serious artistic evidence... available physical evidence... and then compellingly buttressed by conclusive personal evidence...?... the fat lady has sung on klasskurtxian naysaying, reader!  A dissembling Elvis skulks embarrassed and humiliated from the building, verily!

"Proof" is just evidence accepted as proof, reader. There are those among us reluctant to admit that junkyard dog of consistent evidence biting down hard on their hindquarters at this startling denouement.

...And cheese Louise, fellow buckaroos and sky watchers... ...a listener can only be annoyingly astonished by the continued reluctance of some (a few actually!), given this wealth of evidentiary data, to face the highly strange music... ...music enduring despite being forever marginalized... and incompetently marginalized at that! Condign is the latest such example of the preceding.

...Does the aforementioned evidence available adequately justify attention by the *mainstream* to perform a more in depth investigation of UFOs? Absolutely"! Does Wendy Connors provide same in her ample Aural History Series extant? Without doubt.

To understate rather tediously: In Wendy Connors current disc compilation "Night Journeys in Ufology," and spanning the middle 70s... select case recordings from the National UFO Reporting Center are heard...

Now, with zero hyperbole, let me advise a reader that in these select recordings they can hear the stunned astonishment, perceive the abject fear, or feel the acute embarrassment of real people compelled, ANYWAY, to report something twitchy they've observed to somebody. Get ready to identify, reader, with the curious innocence of persons enthralled with the perceived presence of an inexplicable *other*. Prepare to see how real people deal, friends and neighbors, with their highly strange experience and come to grips with same.

But "for the grace of God go you...," besides... only one of these reports has to be true... not false. Never "false."

It's not one false case that debunks all cases... it's one true UFO (TRUFO) providing validation for the UFOs too reflexively denied! Think there isn't at least one true case? Another "think" is due you.

Moreover, these are people just like you... remember. They are "you" quite possibly... even if you have never made a report!

I've never reported, and I'm a proclaimed witness to same... I'm one of these people. Verily. I know of others. Maybe you?

Back to the Connors compilation...From almost two full 24 hour days in a seemingly endless steam of collected reports... ...some 252 incredible MP3 tracks... clear audio tracks ensuring the listener has an abundance of this inexplicable whispering in their ears... these strange echoes of the felt presence of an *other* just around the para-psychological corner from the prosaic... ...as they watch their busying night skies become busier... for years to come. 

...Good fare with which to be fairly apprised as the strange singularity of this unspoken *other* accelerates closer and closer to us while you read these words? This writer thinks so. But that's good news, I contend.

...Closing, Wendy Connors brings home the ufological bacon once again with her surreal compilation, thrills the listener as she informs, and provides for a more expansive and more robust reality for all... I am of the not so humble opinion. Also, forgetting for a moment that she is an unsung hero of sizable caliber herself, she is to be heartily commended and certainly celebrated for bringing yet another "unsung" ufological hero further into the appreciative light for a moment. It's her job.

Robert Gribble. Good SHOW, Sir!

If you're still with us on this chase, and you're feeling the breath of approaching concrescence on the back of the neck like those of us remaining? My heartfelt thanks, a snappy salute, and a very public celebration of your contribution, Mr. Gribble!

If not? Twenty-one guns, Sir! Twenty-one freaking Guns! Hell, you get those regardless!

Read on.

Friday, October 16, 2015



How can good people say they stand on principle when supporting David Jacobs where he is very cleanly (sic) recorded (or readily admits himself), it would seem, (1), purloining soiled underwear he later reports is _not_ collected for residue testing due to lack of funds and an unwillingness of a scientific body to examine them pro bono, (2), leading his "research" subjects by the nose, recalling them to one another, and polluting the data pool making them known to one another, presumably assuring a consistent personal narrative, (3), suggests to a (by all accounts) healthy subject in a highly suggestible state that she has a dangerously serious psychiatric pathology requiring psychotropic drugs and massive psychiatric care, (4), jettisoning research subjects to their own devices when it has been determined that they are no longer useful in the pursuit of the "doctor's" pecuniary control agenda, (5), thinly threatens research subjects with exposure if they don't play along, (6), does nothing to stem the slanders and character disparagements of his cast-off and protesting subjects by a worldwide audience of lap-dog fanboys and fawning lick-spittles, (7), disingenuously uses Temple University stationery to suggest collegiate legitimacy, (8) suggests she wear a medieval torture devise he would provide and (9), can pretend not to acknowledge any of the preceding secure in the fact that he has the uncritical support of the good people alluded to at the start?


Thursday, October 15, 2015

Odd Observation #2

I had a sighting one Sunday morning in 2002.  Sure, and it was hardly anything to write home to 'Mom' about, as sightings of the "tres weird," go and I wouldn't call it a "wave" exactly [g]... but I was pleased to finally have something strange to report. I'll get to those short details in a moment, but let me tell you about something better first.

I'd been out the Saturday night before to a cook-out at an old friend's home, and I'd had one more beer (or three) than was entirely good for me.  I'm sure that's happened to the reader from time to time.  If it hasn't, it should (assuming informed consent).  Moderation in all things includes moderation.  You can quote me (...thought I'd coined it) or Oscar Wilde.  I digress.

...Back at the soiree alluded to above, thank your god of choice the Australians weren't there.  I might have been well and truly lost [g]!  Those guys are serious about their brewed stuff!  ...I'm full of digressions!

Be that as it may, I was a little worse for wear the next morning when I blew off the alarm set for usual 2:45 Central and slept in 'till four.  To me it felt like noon.

I looked outside, blearily, that following Sunday morning and was almost disappointed to discover the best visibility I'd had in over two weeks!  

Rats!  I had to go outside now... A little disgusted with myself that I had blown off the lion's share of an opportunity, I made my steamy cup o' ritual java ("Al's liquid quickening" I call it) and stumbled out the back door, making my way to the usual spot next to a waist high retaining wall.

I looked up into the sky miserably with a dull headache for company, and was just depressed enough to wonder what the bleedin' point was... when I remembered a conversation I'd had with a fellow aviator at the party the night before. 

Just the two us for the moment (this won't come up in a group) he'd caught me looking up into the sky over the fire and, knowing something of my interests, said quietly,  "I... ah... I saw something weird under goggles on Guard drill last weekend..."  Goggles are military grade night vision devices amplifying available light many thousands of times.  You have the eyes of a god it seems.  Indeed, you were blind but now you can see.  ...And what you see! 

He was apologetic, as many are vis a vis the subject matter, when he related the rest of his, obviously uncomfortable, tale.  A small digression... where, when, how and why did we learn to feel such shame at having a truth to tell?

...Back at the "ranch," *Mike's* story, and the subject at hand...

He and another UH-60 (Blackhawk) driver were parked out in the recesses of the nearby military reservation waiting for a night training mission to kick off. They were flying simulated combat sorties for the Alabama National Guard.  

"Mike" (not his real name, he can't afford to associate himself with this twitchy UFO business, like most professional people...) is a highly experienced military aviator and civilian GS~13 working as a commander of instructor pilots at Fort Rucker, the sun source of  the World's professional helicopter flying effort.  

Like most of his ilk, he is not given to wild blueberry horse muffins, and besides, no one who remotely knows me is going to rattle my chain on the subject of UFOs.  They know I'll eat them.  Sincerely. [...no little emoticon grinny thing...]

Anyway, while he was out there in the darkness under the strictest "light discipline" (it means lives), he used his night vision goggles as I have used them when I can infrequently get my hands on them.  He looked—perhaps "too" deeply?—into the near moonless but otherwise unbridled potential of the night sky.  Even without the UFOs, it's still a foursquare dazzler and quite a "show"!

It was also very quiet out in the "field"; the colder temperatures silenced the insects, and the middle of a military reservation is a marvelous buffer from the road noise of  even distant highways.  As I said, it was very quiet—a "quiet" so deep one could cut it with a knife!  No sensory distractions.

Around midnight, abruptly, he noticed a "V" formation of seven or eight lights moving across his field of vision overhead. He flipped up his goggles to see if the highly strange lights were visible without them.  They were not.  Puzzled that there would be an unplanned formation of "mystery" aircraft (running without position lights!) flying over the military training area in the middle of this highly canned and orchestrated exercise, he alerted his copilot to have a look!  Both pilots were goggle equipped.  With perhaps thirty years of piloting experience between them they watched, mouths hanging open, as the puzzling green hued  lights traversed the sky.  Everything is green, remember, in an NVGs field of view.

"Why don't we hear anything," the astonished copilot whispered.  That seven or eight aircraft flying overhead in formation at any altitude is going to make a significant "sound" is a laughing understatement. There was no sound from the formation of lights overhead...

As Mike and his copilot watched these highly peculiar bogeys, both men gasped as they saw the lead craft break off from the formation, abruptly, and dangerously fly the "long way around" the formation into a trail position on one of the wings of the "V", instead of falling back and sliding over from the inside, which would be safer and more appropriate change of the lead aircraft... The manner in which this maneuver was accomplished raised the hair on the backs of their necks. 

The procedure just described would take over a minute if the pilot was hurrying.  Even then he might get a reprimand from the ASO (aviation safety officer) for cowboying the aircraft!  

Turns at night in training are kept to standard rate (three degrees per second) or less, as a safety measure insuring lives and millions of dollars worth of high tech equipment (not necessarily in that order), especially aircraft in formation.  This craft made the transition from lead to trail, around the outside of the flight in under three seconds...!  

That's just not done! It's negligent and irresponsible! Moreover, it's impossible! Mike and his copilot watched open mouthed as the formation of lights continued on their way until they were too far away to be seen, even with the goggles.

He asked me, then, what I thought he had seen.  I told him that he had likely seen just what he had thought he had seen, and welcome to the beginning of highly "interesting" times... here-have-another-beer!

Fascinating, huh?  It's all in the looking up at what is there to be seen.  Of course, sixteen thousand dollars of high-tech assisted vision between them helped, too.

As I considered Mike's strange story I was idly looking West, just to the south of Ursa Major (about five points to her left) when I had my own sighting.  About 35 degrees in elevation and almost due west, a bright amber colored light about the magnitude of Sirius blinked on as I was watching, and began to transition to the North at a steady rate of one degree in six seconds.  Tres slow!  There was no sound, and the rate of speed, color and magnitude of the light did not waver.  I watched until it moved behind a large pecan tree in my neighbor's yard...  I watched it travel for several minutes starting at about 04:35 Central.

...Just a point of light in my field glasses, an amber star that blinked on as I watched and then inexplicably began to move...  

Real enigma on the half shell, boys and girls! Dull throb of a lingering hangover or no, and finally, something newly substantive to report. 

I remain watching our skies.  Read on.

The collection:























Monday, October 12, 2015

"Challenge to Science: The UFO Enigma"

FOREWORD to Jacques and Janine Vallee's "Challenge to Science: The UFO Enigma"

By J.ALLEN HYNEK ~~ Chairman, Department of Astronomy, and Director, Dearborn Observatory, Northwestern University

WHAT IS THE RESPONSIBILITY OF THE Scientist confronted with observations that seem not only a challenge but sometimes also an affront to science? How does one discharge this responsibility? The UFO phenomenon presents us with such a problem. To most scientists who have no acquaintance with the subject, save that gained from scanning the popular press, it is an "untouchable" area. "Flying saucers" indeed ~~   the product of immature, imaginative, and even unbalanced, minds the playground of the pseudo~scientist and the quasi~mystic, the haven of the crackpot.

Is this really so? Obviously, if one is to apply the scientific principles we all staunchly defend, one must take the time to look into the subject carefully, to look, and to consider. But time is precisely what today's scientists, in some respects the world's busiest people,   do not have! Who can take the time to wade through the seeming morass of stories, fanciful tales, chimera, and balderdash when so many pressing things demand the scientist's immediate attention? As an astronomer, I probably would never have approached the subject had I not been officially asked to do so. Over the past eighteen years I have acted as a scientific consultant to the U.S. Air Force on the subject of flying objects not identified ~~ UFO's. As a consequence of my work on the voluminous air force files and, to a greater extent, of personal investigation of many puzzling cases and interviews with witnesses of good repute, I have long been aware that the subject of UFOs could not be dismissed as mere nonsense. Nonsense is present, to be sure, and misidentification of otherwise familiar objects that many sincere people report as UFO's. But is there not a "signal" in the "noise," a needle in the haystack? Is it not precisely our role to try to isolate the valid from the nonsensical. By carefully working through tons of pitchblende, Madame Curie isolated a tiny amount of radium, but the significance of that minute quantity was world~ shaking.

It is my conclusion (speaking now personally and not in an official capacity) after many years of working through "tons" of reports, that there is a signal, that there is "radium" in the "pitchblende," waiting to be extracted. The authors of this book have come to the same conclusion, by a somewhat different path. Whether the scientifically valid in the entire UFO phenomenon proves to be a physical signal or a psychological one   oz even a heretofore unknown phenomenon   it is in every respect a challenge to science.

Perhaps I should have spoken earlier; eighteen years is a long time. But it takes more evidence to get an idea accepted in a revolutionary field, be it biological evolution, relativity, or quantum mechanics, than it does to advance simply another step in an accepted scientific domain. Furthermore, astronomers are among the most conservative of scientists. Perhaps this is because their time scale is so great that they naturally bide their time in proposing or accepting revolutionary ideas, particularly if such ideas are subject to sensational treatment in the press and in the minds of the people.

Nonetheless, I have of late been rebuked, in my correspondence with people whose integrity I respect, with the charge that I failed to call the importance of the air force data on UFO's to the attention of my peers. If any defense is needed, in view of the controversial and explosive nature of the subject, it is that I did indeed on many occasions call guarded attention to the steadily growing mass of reports made by intelligent people from many countries. As early as 1952, before the Optical Society of America I pointed out the significant nature of some types of UFO reports (article published in the Journal of the Optical Society of America, April, 1953). Over and above that, there remains the fact that for years I have personally devoted a portion of my time to this subject, an action that would be unthinkable had I not felt it was worthy of examination. I have long been aware that the UFO phenomenon is a global one and that it has captured the attention of many rational people. Numerous scientists have privately told me of their interest and their willingness to look further into the problem.

Also, as a scientific consultant to the U.S. Air Force, I carry a unique responsibility: any statement I make on the importance of the UFO phenomenon, unless backed by overwhelming evidence, carries the danger of "mobilizing the credulity of the world," as a university colleague of mine so aptly put it. I recognize that responsibility in accepting the invitation of the authors to write the Foreword to this book. It was only my respect for the authors as serious investigators and the continued and growing mass of unexplained UFO reports that prompted me to accept. I have over the years acquired something of a reputation as a "debunker" of UFO reports. If this arose from my honest desire to find a rational natural explanation for the stimuli that give rise to the reports, a procedure very frequently crowned with success, then I must bear with that reputation. If it stems, however, from a belief that I deliberately adopted a Procrustean approach, cutting down or stretching out evidence to make a forced fit, deliberately to "explain away" UFO reports at all cost, then it is a most unwarranted charge.

In my nearly two score years' association with the investigation of the reports, I have yet to write a book on the subject, primarily because there is no physical evidence in support of the phenomenon Were I to write such a book today, however, I probably would take much the same approach followed by the present authors. The Vallee's present a formidable amount of evidence for the global nature of the UFO phenomenon, but despite this they come to no firm conclusion. As they state: "We must realize that the observations we have reviewed... have no value in themselves. They are important, and deserve study, only because each one is an illustration of a phenomenon that has manifested itself since May, 1946, in every country in the world." Besides the fact that the reports bear striking similarities to each other, they continue to be made by people of good repute, which makes it imperative that a scientific investigation be undertaken. Because of the global nature of the total phenomenon this investigation might well be carried out under the auspices of the United Nations. The psychological implications of the UFO phenomenon on world affairs certainly make it worthy of study. It makes no difference, in this respect, what the physical truth of the matter is; it is the impact it has on the minds of people in many nations that makes it potentially important in the psycho~sociological balance of the world.

My own interest, as an astronomer, in the total phenomenon is, of course, purely scientific Some readers many well wonder whether this seemingly flamboyant subject is amenable to scientific inquiry. What constitutes scientific evidence in this field The authors present a convincing argument that the UFO phenomenon can be studied with the advanced methods of inquiry of the physical scientist and of the sociologist and psychologist. In all of these methods the electronic computer figures prominently.

Scientific inquiry becomes possible when the phenomenon under study exhibits patterns and regularities, when it is subject to classification. The authors have  shown that a classification system (the start of many branches of science) of UFO phenomena is possible and, indeed, that each type they have identified shows a different diurnal frequency pattern. In particular, their catalogue of five hundred cases should be of interest to scientists. I cannot help drawing a parallel with the first catalogues of celestial radio sources: the great majority of the entries were unidentified optically; only more advanced methods of analysis and observation revealed that some of these were distant radio galaxies and that some were the striking new puzzle, quasi~stellar sources. The present catalogue of UFO cases consists, with very few exceptions of unidentified items; one wonders whether the parallel with the catalogue of radio sources continues.

Certainly no progress can be made without scientific study. Unfortunately, as the authors point out, scientists, "draped with dignity," have often refused to study the reports. The fact of the matter is that many of my colleagues who have draped their dignity long enough to take a hard look at the reports have joined the growing ranks of the puzzled scientists: they privately indicate serious interest in the phenomenon but publicly they choose, like the subject itself, to remain unidentified; they are unwilling to expose themselves to the raillery and banter that go with it. It is to them in particular, and to all who faster the true Galilean spirit, that this book will be of greatest value. They grope and seek, examining even those ideas that seem fanciful and strange, for they know haw strange and fanciful the term "nuclear energy" would have been to a physicist one hundred years ago. They are ready to accept a new challenge to science.

... End quote.


...Some half century and change has passed since this was written, and sometimes I feel as if I'm the only one ready to accept that new challenge... you? 

Once, long, long ago, in our world far, far away... the best minds of the time were looking to the skies, perceiving what was actually there and then acting on that actuality with regard and consideration, science and instrumentation.

Apart from that urge to speculate pompously and with all unearned hubris that we somehow "grew up" or even "wised up,"  what has happened or is happening to humanity as a species? Where is our curiosity, our imagination, our apprehending genius? Where is our courage?

I mourn its absence, as in its absence we're shunted disingenuously 'twixt the likes of Sean David Morton and David Jacobs and all things in between 'twere they opposites.  ...Who knows what they are?  I digress.

Closing, UFO Joe is a person attentive to UFOs and their ancillaries because inattention seems unintelligent, unprogressive, unimaginative, and unbrave. He has been an honest instrument of observation over the years. This writer commends him.

Read on! 

Sunday, October 11, 2015

Close Encounters Of The Fourth Kind

Close Encounters Of 
The Fourth Kind

A Review Of Wendy Connors' Fourth CD Compilation Of 
Ufological Aural History
By Alfred Lehmberg

One can hardly run out of superlatives regarding Wendy Connors and her stunning compilations of aural ufological history.  I won't run out of them here.  She is solely responsible with regard to providing what is just not going to be found... in any one place... anywhere-else-in-the-known-universe!  Small hyperbole, reader.

I refer, of course, to the—very nearly lost!—recorded expressions of those most pivotal in the study of that which may very likely foretell an exciting, intellectually profitable, and expansively efficacious future... for all of us in the rank and file. That's my feeling, at any rate... Take it with a salt mine if required.  It remains a strong intuition.

On her fourth disc of vintage recordings—including three times the material of any of her previous compilations!—one finds the same kinds of discovery and is provoked towards the same kinds of ufological inspiration as the previous three. This iteration is called CE-IV, or "Close Encounters of the Fourth Kind"—An Audio History of Alien Abduction and Animal Mutilation 1957—1976.

...The abduction phenomenon...

...It may be that people (...you know?) are being abducted by alien beings for purposes that are... well... not being vigorously investigated by the leadership, reader, so far as we'd know!  Digress with me a bit.  Who would profit as a result of this "process" of... non-investigation?  Answer that to zip confidently down the ufological rabbit hole, friend, to imagination's emancipation.  See, a status quo is profitable for the few even as it apes a parasitic leech on the many.

It's a question, moreover, folks can ask themselves as they survey the twenty-six (plus!) hours that Connors' disc contains. A rich and stunning history of the abduction phenomenon is contained therein, folks, spanning decades! Additionally, there is no contesting that any true understanding of the flesh and bones of this abduction *thing* will have to include some familiarity with the history of it.

Good thing, then, Ms. Connors is on the scene! But for her we would all be relegated to current distortions, convenient interpretations, and conventional wisdoms of same... facilitated, of course, by closed-minded individuals, corrupt institutions, shadow-born agencies, and unabashedly authoritarian governments... no... rather kingdoms—fiefs!

Does the reader think he has the low-down on Betty and Barney Hill?  Think again. All the reader likely knows about Betty and Barney Hill are a distorted legend and a few grainy photographs proffered by conflicted persons powering the preceding paragraph.

A portrait of the Hills as composed by reactionary skeptibunkies, noisy negativists , and knee-jerk ufological denialists—errant klasskurtxians—paints a picture of a dodgy working class "interracial" couple (always pointed out!)... ...two people who very likely made the entire story up out of whole cloth, solely for purposes of some late-night time in the loony late-night limelight, presumably.  This too ready explanation doesn't track.

Yes, that all too convenient assessment is blown away, decisively, when one listens to Connors' compilation. Truth is decidedly stranger than the official fiction.

Interviews and accounts recorded from key persons, at the time, indicate that there was much, much more that was going on with regard to abductions... than can be accounted for in the so called "record" maintained by our duplicitous mainstream.  Barney Hill, a mail-handler, homeowner, and tax-payer was a very uncomplicated man with a degree of New England seriousness and an abundance of personal bravery... or tell me that interracial marriages were celebrated in the United States circa 1950... even if he and his equally brave wife DID reside in the Northeast United States and far from a toxic "Bible Belt."

These recordings on the disc actually let the listener get to know Betty and Barney more than their detractors are comfortable with. One discovers, upon listening, that Betty and Barney are simple persons, uncomplicated persons, decidedly non-silly persons... innocently guileless persons... but persons who had a complicated, otherwise convoluted, and decidedly bizarre experience the high-domes and propeller-heads are unable to adequately explain, even to themselves.

Betty and Barney were reluctant reporters, reader, and they endured a lot of abuse, then and now, for having the bravery to make their astonishing report or tell their inexplicable tale. I suspect the stress killed Barney.

In support of the Hill's story, moreover, are the recorded analysis of quality clinicians, researchers, and scientists like Richard Hall, Dr. Benjamin Simon - MD, John H. Luttrell, Dr. James E. McDonald, Dr. R. Leo Sprinkle, Dr. Carl Sagan (...before toeing the obligatory party line?), Dr. Leon Jerrif, and Mr. Edward Eddleson... et sig al.

Marjorie Fish is included with the above for a very interesting reason... Her meticulous astronomical work vis a vis the Hill case is actually a real show-stopper and despite its startling merit being clearly pointed out, most notably by Stanton Friedman (heard on the disc), it remains a reason furtively marginalized, fringe-ified, and too airily ridiculed by the palsied lions, bluffing tigers, and tedious bears of non-reflecting and reactionary 'debunker-dom'...

...Betty Hill's intriguing and astonishing Starmap!

During one of Betty's adventurous ordeals the aliens allegedly showed her a screen that displayed a map of the local transit lanes between our sun and other star systems. Hypnotically regressed by a named clinical psychiatrist, Betty reproduced a pen and ink version of it. That intrepid sketch still causes trouble.

The disparaging hue and cry of the skeptibunkies was predictable and lamentable, but the aforementioned astronomer Marjorie Fish (...heard on disc...) wanted to be a little more scientific than that. She constructed a wire and bead model of the universe local to our own sun (still in use in college classrooms) and against all odds (...contrary to what the noisy negativist is going to thoughtlessly try to feed you!), found a convincing correlation between Betty's sketch and the physical reality!

Moreover, not only are the stars in the correct locations as related by Betty Hill, the stars are all of a type similar to our own, medium yellow second generation stars, the type postulated by science to be the most forgiving of carbon based life evolving around them! This was something not widely known, if at all, at the time... Now—how the hell did child welfare worker Betty Hill confabulate all that?

Put together 20 plus stars actually in the positions that Betty sketched with the subsequently discovered fact that the stars were of the type to be friendly to evolving life... and you have the makings for a wonder that raises the hair on the back of ones neck!  How did Betty know?  Give the White Rabbit your ticket stub, reader, and go on in.

Cattle mutilation is explored. Travis Walton is interviewed. Professional law officers give testimony. Cleve Baxter cleanly bitch-slaps our esteemed where not "steaming" Philip Klass for an added treat! Dr. James Harder lectures on conjectured Alien Communication and Dr. Leo Sprinkle investigates the prophesy of abductees... be assured that somethin's shakin' in the tall grass, friends and neighbors, and it ain't Andy Roberts.

There is more on the disc, of course. I can't discuss the whole 26 hours here. Everything from the first recorded abduction case (the Hills were not the first), to learned explications by Stanton Friedman... I've just hit a few of the high points.  There is much more, reader, and more real because, thanks to Wendy Connors, "you are there."

This is real.

Thursday, October 08, 2015

Odd Observations #1

Odd Observations #1
by Alfred Lehmberg

I've been making reference to sightings of anomalous objects I'd been having down here in the southeast US since 1995.   I caution the reader that I've seen nothing conclusive; no mother ships, beam landers, or starship shuttles, and I have only had encounters that exclusively (but strongly) suggest Hynek's close encounter of the first type.

Close encounters of the first type? ...Strangely moving point-source lights in the sky. These, only, comprise the totality of my observations... though these lights have done enough of the enigmatic and unusual to remove them from the category of what is "supposed" to be up there.

I add that I might be a credible judge of what is supposed to be up there.  I was a very highly trained and decorated career Master Army Aviator, a standardization instructor pilot and team leader in both utility and attack branches, "slicks" and "snakes." Moreover, as a graduate of the *old* Instrument Flight Examiner course with more helicopter time, in peace and combat, than Oberg, Shermer, Posner, and even Klass combined [g], I was more than just merely qualified to make that judgment!   I digress.

Back at the ranch... bizarre and specifically significant "other" things are seen in the early morning skies as well, but not often.  ...And only then because I am provided with... uh, let's call it ...inordinate TIME... to secure an opportunity to observe them. 

Frankly, the things I see are making ninety-degree turns, expelling red glittery stuff, and flying random, senseless patterns while flashing strobes pulse at the snap-turned corners! They are coming to complete stops, flying in formation, and making vertiginous changes in magnitude with regard to speed and direction... while generating rainbows of color. 

They are as bright as Venus cubed, dim as a star only visible with off center viewing, and they appear and disappear with what a child might perceive as a wispy playfulness. I can only wonder what they must actually be...

I've discovered (forgive this small digression) that an idle mind is not so much the devil's tool that is the issue, but that it remains a tool at all. An unfettered tool. An unrestrained tool. A tool with lesser barriers regarding its use.

I've time to use that tool more in a fashion of what I perceive to be an efficacious loose cannon, even if it may be a cannon of small caliber with but a small ufological canon. As regards the aforementioned (and angrily contested) "inordinate" time?

...Retired from the Army and shunned for suspect reasons by the public school teaching *professionals* of *polite* local *society* (uptight civilian culture here in the bible belt of the southeast ...not to put too fine a point on it... ),  I've found myself with a lot of unemployed hours.  I choose to indulge a seemingly rational ufological interest with that tool aforementioned utilizing that otherwise idle mind.  The "idle mind" remains a mechanism decidedly dangerous to an "establishment," I continue to discover for myself...

Be that as it may, I use some of those idle minutes with which I have been "graced" to rock my head back and actually look up into the sky for protracted periods. That's the secret, you know... Really looking?

Sincerely, anybody spending time looking will actually see the things I'm seeing... if they just took the time to look. I understand most folks don't have time.

Young people have jobs or young families. Frenetic governments provide more immediate fish for them to fretfully fry.  Those who have the time? These don't have the inclination, and those who have inclination don't have enough inclination to provide opportunity... you have to brave the bugs, neck-cricks and sometimes bitter cold... or UFOs go unseen.

You've got to spend the time—be free—to see these things that fly, you see... Sorry, that just slipped out... [g].

For a long time I'd go out every morning there was a clear sky and spend about an hour looking up, out, and INTO deep space. I've amassed hundreds of hours in the years passed peering into the sky.  I've seen the damnedest things, already written about, unaided AND aided with military-grade night vision hardware. 

I see these things, I think, because I try not to presuppose or pronounce on what I'm seeing.  I don't self-hypnotize that all these sightings MUST have, exclusively, prosaic (and so ignorable) explanations. I don't know that they're "flying saucers," forgetting it's what I suspect. My suspicions are not the issue. The fact that, among others, I'm seeing... ..."something"... is.


I'm going to start reflecting on them, anew, here. Every time I rediscover a significant sighting of the ubiquitous weird I'll discuss it in this forum, for the record... for the record, annotated and numbered.  I'll give time, degree, and description with as much significant detail as I can or care to.  I'm going to do this for two reasons.

One, I am genuinely (and I think very rationally) concerned about the general incompetence, neurotic behavior, and contrived cluelessness of the sullen scientistic (sic) mainstream regarding its ignored responsibility to intelligently facilitate an informed public about UFOs!  Presently the mainstream programs the individual, manipulates the individual, and disrespects the individual. We're not getting the whole story, the complete story, or the true story about ANYTHING!  September 11th has only an unsignaled turn for the "egregious worse"... regarding the rest of that story... a story I'm convinced would be to the benefit of every individual on this planet!  That's my intuition.

Two... I had a sighting one morning so bizarre I'm busting to re-share it with someone out there who may be remotely simpatico, and not write me off too quickly as your garden variety net-loon or web-wacko.  I would inspire additional people going out to look for these things.  I would try to energize a grassroots effort to get to the bottom of them. I would inspire that "going out to look." I think that there's a reward in it.  A satisfaction.  A knowing!


It was 4:50, and as it had been well over an hour (I was outside from 3:30 on this morning) and the coffee was gone, I thought it must be about time to mosey on back into the house to write... I'd just happened to glance over my left shoulder at the North Star for a final look-around before heading in, when, as I watched, a bright cream colored light blinked on to the left of Polaris like an energized and pointed aircraft landing light! It was much brighter than Venus. It was perhaps Venus cubed. I thought it might be a Fort Rucker helicopter making a precautionary landing right in my backyard, but the light remained stationary, briefly, about three degrees to the left of the star, and there was NO sound.

I put my glasses on it, and brought them down immediately; it was like looking into a truck headlamp from ten feet away!  I continued the rest of the observation, mostly unaided, for about 30 remaining seconds. I had time to think that it might be a supernova... a meteor, aircraft, satellites, ball lightning, fireworks, and gassy pelicans were considered... but discarded...

Abruptly, I was startled to see the object begin to move to the north, seemingly, and as it traveled a total of about 10 degrees on that track for 20 seconds of the remaining observation, it dimmed, steadily, to the point where I felt it worthwhile to get the binoculars back on it again. I was able to keep in view, but could discern no other details outside a slowly dimming creamy light moving steadily against the clear starfield. Soon I was having to use off-center viewing even in the glasses to keep it in view.  Then it was gone.

It was a great sighting of the wholly inexplicable, friends and neighbors, but also it was a bit of the "ho-freaking-hum"!  I'd seen that kind of thing before.  I'd seen one in California (with my late Mother!) that was better than that!

At this point I've got my backside up against a low retaining wall in my backyard, arms shoved into my pockets—just staring off to the east and wondering what the light I'd just seen really was... when I noticed a flock of light-colored goose-sized birds, I thought, flying due west in a large uneven chevron, getting ready to make a pass directly over my home!  Tres' Neat!

They were still about an apparent hundred meters away, or so, and maybe a hundred feet in the air when it began to seem that they were traveling awfully fast... too fast for birds. And I couldn't see any wings beating. I threw my field glasses up to my eyes for a closer look and was astonished to discover that they were not birds, at all, the wings were NOT flapping. It was about 20 or 25 smaller chevrons flying in the single large uneven chevron streaking through the sky directly over my head! I followed them with my glasses.

Abruptly, I got confused regarding how high they were and wobbled in the view field as my knees kind of buckled with astonishment, I'm a little ashamed to report. I thought I was made of sterner stuff.

The field glasses came down as the flight of objects silently zipped away. Perhaps you had to have been there, but this sighting was a real breath-taker... even for a guy that had gotten a little jaded watching peculiar stuff in his backyard sky!

...These birds weren't birds. They were too fast for birds. They didn't flap like birds. They didn't have the long necks of most formation flying birds. The field glasses were focused and in good working order, I was able to see a clear starfield behind the objects.

They looked, a little, like tiny B2 (flying wing) bombers in my binoculars, traversing about 90 degrees of clear sky in a little over ten seconds. Fast. ...And they glowed.

I hung around until the sun started to come up, but the rest of the morning was uneventful. And that's the way it was. If you look you see; if you see you find; if you find... well, let's find out! That's enough.  I'll watch the skies. Read on.



Grok In Fullness


Errol Bruce-Knapp, of UFO UpDates, Strange Days — Indeed, the Virtually Strange Network... ...and the coiner of the expression &qu...