The

Cryptoterrestrials

Also by Mac Tonnies_________________

After the Martian Apocalypse:Extraterrestrial Artifacts and the Case

for Mars Exploration

Illuminated Black and OtherAdventures

TheCryptoterrestrials:

A MEDITATION ONINDIGENOUS HUMANOIDS

AND THE ALIENS AMONG US

Mac Tonnies

Anomalist BooksSan Antonio * New York

An Original Publication of ANOMALIST BOOKS

THE CRYPTOTERRESTRIALSCopyright © 2010 by Mac TonniesISBN: 1933665815

All rights reserved, including the right to reproducethis book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

Cover image and design by Nadia Sobin

Illustrations by Mike Clelland

Book design by Seale Studios

For information, go to anomalistbooks.com, or writeto:

Anomalist Books, 5150 Broadway #108, San Antonio, TX 78209

ContentsEditor’s NoteForeword by Nick RedfernChapter 1: Looking for AliensChapter 2: MisdirectionChapter 3: UFOs and ExtraterrestrialsChapter 4: The Abduction EpidemicChapter 5: Encounter with a FlowerChapter 6: Curious BystandersChapter 7: The SuperspectrumChapter 8: Water WorldChapter 9: UndergroundChapter 10: Among UsChapter 11: Final ThoughtsAfterword by Greg BishopAcknowledgmentsBibliography

About the Author

Editor’s NoteMac Tonnies died in his sleep on the

evening of October 18, 2009, at the age of34. He was weeks away from turning inhis manuscript on The Cryptoterrestrials.With the help of his family and friends, wehave been able to piece together this, hisfinal book.

In particular, I would like to thank:His mother, Dana Tonnies, for rescuing

the hard copy of the manuscript he had lefton his desk and had been working on;

David Peeples, for emailing us thedigital file of the manuscript that Mac hadasked him to print out when his ownprinter broke down, and for later checkingMac’s laptop, with Dana’s help, for any

more recent versions of the file (therewere none);

Nadia Sobin, whose striking artworkgraces the cover of his book;

Mike Clelland, who contributed thewonderful interior art;

And to Nick Redfern for the Foreword,and Greg Bishop for the Afterword.

I have lost an author; two have lost ason; thousands have lost a friend; and inthe face of intractable mysteries, we haveall lost a brilliant thinker.

“Instead of looking at the screen, what Iwant to do is to turn around and look theother way. When we look the other waywhat we see is a little hole at the top ofthe wall with some light coming out.That’s where I want to go. I want to stealthe key to the projectionist’s booth, andthen, when everybody has gone home, Iwant to break in.”

—Jacques Vallee

“We are part of a symbioticrelationship with something whichdisguises itself as an extraterrestrialinvasion so as not to alarm us.”

—Terence McKenna

“We’re on your street, but you don’t see

us. Or if you do you smile and say hello.”—Morrissey

Foreword As a result of its elusive, ever-changing

and (I would strongly argue) seeminglystage-managed nature and appearance, theUFO phenomenon is one that shouldbe firmly recognized by, and appreciatedfor, its many attendant uncertainties andcomplexities.

After all, we should never forget thatmore than 60 years have elapsed sincepilot Kenneth Arnold experienced his nowhistoric encounter of the Flying Saucerkind over Mount Rainier in WashingtonState. And guess what? The “U” in “UFO”still stands for “Unidentified.”

Unfortunately, so many of those who

have dared to immerse themselves withinthe ufological sand-pit since that long-gone, heady day in June 1947 haveforgotten—or stubbornly refuse toacknowledge—that stark fact.

For those utterly belief-driven souls,the only answer to the ever-present UFOmystery that continues to intrude upon usat a collective and, sometimes, profoundlypersonal level, is that the true “unknowns”have extraterrestrial origins.

Yet, the harsh reality is that the likes ofthe late J. Allen Hynek, LeonardStringfield, Richard Hall, and countlessother souls who became entranced byflying saucers and their forever elusivecrews were utterly unable to provide anyhard evidence that E.T. really was—orstill is—among us.

For all their files (and attendant filingcabinets), their carefully compiled notes,and their myriad interviews withnumerous eyewitnesses, they failed tomake a definitive case. That’s right:THEY FAILED. Deal with it or don’t, butit’s a fact.

Now, one might reasonably ask: well,just because absolute vindication for theExtraterrestrial Hypothesis (ETH) has notyet been forthcoming, does that mean thesame hypothesis has no merit?

Of course not; however, in my view, ifevidence for the ETH has failed to surface—despite decades of hard work anddiligent investigations—then maybe weshould consider the notion that we arelooking for the answers in all the wrongplaces.

Instead of looking up, maybe we shouldbe looking around us. And, perhaps, evenbelow us, too.

Thankfully, there are a few learnedscholars out there who recognize thatwhat, to some, is a relativelystraightforward matter—namely, the ideathat E.T. is visiting us, sometimes crashesand burns, and has a particular penchantfor our DNA—is actually nothing of thesort.

Enter Mac Tonnies. I rather liken Mac to a Fortean

equivalent of the Sex Pistols and theRamones (Mac would probably prefer Icite the Smiths or R.E.M.; but, hey, that’show it goes). When, in 1976, both bandsfirmly saved rock music from the bloatedstodge of groups like Led Zeppelin, Deep

Purple, Yes, and Emerson, Lake &Palmer, they didn’t do so just because theycould. No, their actions were prompted bythe fact that (A) the dinosaurs of rock hadbecome utterly irrelevant and redundant;and (B) a new, fresh approach was sorelyneeded.

Such is the case with the beliefs ofmany of the long-term players withinufology, who are, today, about as relevantto the actual subject matter as isa pterodactyl or a woolly mammoth to the21st century.

Even a relative novice cannot fail tonotice that the UFO issue has a distinctatmosphere about it that screams“manipulation, deception, and stage-managed trickery.” In other words, yes:there is a real UFO phenomenon. And, it

has nothing to do with Pentagon generals,CIA spooks, mistaken identity, or outrighthoaxing and fakery. But it may havenothing to do with literal extraterrestrialseither.

What if there exists alongside us, indistinct stealth, a race of incrediblyancient beings who may be native to ourplanet; who were perhaps—eons ago—our technological masters, but who, today,may well be on the wane?

What if, as a means to move amongstus, they have ingeniously passedthemselves off as visitors from far-offworlds? And what if we—those of us whodelve into the world of the UFO, and thosewho have encountered such entities—havefallen for their Machiavellian ruses timeand time again?

Such are the questions that are at theheart of Mac Tonnies’ TheCryptoterrestrials.

As Mac skillfully demonstrates, UFOsand their shadowy crews most assuredlydo exist, and their ties to us are both long-standing and vital. They want us tobelieve they are extraterrestrials.Arguably, they even need us to believethey are extraterrestrials. But, in reality,they are merely Oscar-deserving actors,endlessly performing stage-plays that havesuccessfully kept the human race in thedark for countless generations.

With the long-awaited publication ofMac’s The Cryptoterrestrials, however,their era of deceit and manipulation maywell be coming to a close—providing,that is, we do not continue to be seduced

and enchanted by their cosmic lies.

– Nick Redfern

CHAPTER 1

Looking for AliensLooking down from a sufficient

distance, human habitation recedes to themerest glimmer. As night devours thecontinents, our seeming dominionvanishes, replaced by scatteredconstellations, the haughty gleam of ourcities suddenly as substantial as a skein ofcampfires. As the dark deepens, werealize with mounting unease just howtenuous our presence is; the mountains,prairies and lakes, denuded of daylight,taunt us with their enormity.

Then there are the oceans, almost

entirely vacant of man-made lights. Ourseas, so often taken for granted, are likevast tombs from which even the mostunseemly phantasms might emerge; we plytheir waters at our own peril, distantlyaware that we might find ourselves in thecompany of others.

The Earth is ancient, its biosphere onlyslightly less so. For four billion years ourworld has secreted life. The advent ofhomo sapiens is alarmingly recent incomparison. We’re like foundlingswashed upon some alien shore, stiflingour fears by pretending to a feebleomnipotence. Having launched spacecraftto the outer planets and inspected thecrater-pocked wastes of Mars through theunblinking eyes of rovers, it’s easy toentertain the idea that we’re the first,

evolution’s sole successful stab at thephenomenon we casually term“intelligence.”

Yet as we watch night erode thefamiliar highways and stadiums and ever-encroaching suburbs, our confidencefalters. Already, technological forecastersenvision a near-future populated by ourartificially intelligent offspring. Perhapsas our most cherished certainties crumblein the glow of a new century—full ofdanger, portent and enigma—it’s becomerelatively easy to contemplate thepresence of the Other; not an other new toour planet, but one predating our owngenetic regime. Something unspoken andancient yet nevertheless amenable toscience . . . an intelligence with an almost-human face, until recently content to abide

by the shadows of our complacency.But since the middle of the last century

it seems to have asserted itself with avigor hitherto found only in the domain offolklore. Understandably daunted, we’verelegated its existence to the margins ofperception: hallucination, war fever,misunderstood natural phenomena,delusion, butchered recollections ofdreams best left forgotten. We see lightsdancing in our sky and invoke impossiblemeteors. Landed vehicles accompanied bysurreal humanoids become military testaircraft and their diminutive pilots. Theemaciated creatures seen aboard apparentspacecraft—or, more portentously, withinrock-walled caverns—are summarilydismissed as sheerest fantasy or, at best,as the spawn of novel brain dysfunctions.

In the decades since 1947, dawn of thecontemporary UFO era, we’ve confronteda parade of strangeness that has rallieduncritical enthusiasts and rattledentrenched authority, leaving a bizarreresidue that defies attempts atcategorization as certainly as it elicitshypotheses.

I began this book pursuing thecommonalities between the UFOphenomenon and the equally bewilderingspectacle of our emerging technologicalfuture. I was especially intrigued by theprospect of humans becoming somethingother than strictly biological, increasinglyviewed as a necessary evolutionary stepin the wake of an imminent “Singularity,”a moment in history in which ourintelligence, augmented and disseminated

by machines, transcends the imaginable.My working hypothesis—that alien

visitation was best viewed in cyberneticterms—remains a valid paradigm forinterpreting the arrival of an alienintelligence on this planet. But the more Iread and contemplated, the more my“postbiological” theory seemed lacking;while I could readily envision a global“invasion” directed by an unseen machineintelligence, the enduring nature of theUFO spectacle forced me to rethink myassumptions.

Like ufologist Jacques Vallee, I viewedour response to the appearance ofapparent nonhuman vehicles in our skiesas the work of deliberate psychologicalconditioning (probably, but notnecessarily, benevolent). Contrary to

popular perceptions, UFOs are far from arecent occurrence; written and oralaccounts point to an experience ofexceptional age and patience. If “alienencounters” were the work of somegodlike artificial intelligence, anomniscient pacemaker sowing memes inan effort to ensure our evolutionconformed to some unknown alien ideal,then we might reasonably expect it toremain “hidden.”

This would neatly account for the lackof “hard” evidence that would force theUFO question out of theoretical limbo andinto the mainstream. A postbiologicaloverseer—something along the lines of theinscrutable black monolith in 2001—would have a vested interest in obscurity.As biological beings, we might even lack

the perceptual acumen to properly discernits presence. This, I reasoned, explainedthe UFO phenomenon’s recurrence inworld folklore; perhaps it had succeededin insinuating itself into our collectiveunconscious. As abductee WhitleyStrieber has suggested, “alien” contact—whatever “alien” might ultimately mean—might be what the process of evolutionlooks like to the human mind.

The primary challenge to thismythological approach was the explicitlyphysical nature of so many encounters—including, but by no means limited to, therelatively recent epidemic of“abductions,” in which witnesses reportbeing kidnapped from workadaysurroundings and subjected to novelmedical tests. This seemed remarkably

crude for an intelligence as subtle andabiding as the entity I had imagined. Ifrecent developments in our owntechnology are any indication at all, wewill probably harness much less intrusivetechniques within the next few decades;for an intelligence thousands or millionsof years superior to our own to stoop tosuch clinical levels struck me as absurd.

Of course, the very idea of anartificially emplaced psychosocialconditioning system hinges on absurdity.Vallee and John Keel, author of theparanormal masterpiece The MothmanProphecies, have written extensively onthe nonsensical element that accompaniesso many accounts of assumedextraterrestrial visitation. This absurdityonly makes sense if the phenomenon isn’t

as it seems but rather appeals to ourcollective unconscious (for reasons wecan only guess).

Or so I thought. Finally, I wondered theunthinkable: what if the antics of the“absurd humanoids” documented byVallee weren’t the work of someoverarching intelligence? What if theyhappened just as reported, without theneed to invoke externally imposedpsychosocial thermostats?

This notion struck me as deliciouslyironic. It suggested that the encounterswith nonhumans that haunt our folklorewere real, not necessarily projectionspreying on our gullibility. Could “fairies”and “elves”—and all their mythicalsuccessors—be distorted representationsof an actual species?

While curiously appealing, the ideaseemed totally orthogonal to science.Psychologists maintain that legendary“little people” are beings of the mind, thebrain’s instinctive attempt to populate thedarkness. They’re also quick to point outthat modern accounts of spindly grayaliens are almost certainly due to fantasy-prone personalities, poorly trainedtherapists, and hallucinations experiencedduring episodes of sleep paralysis.

This analysis is attractive on severallevels. It neatly does away with thespecter of the Other we repeatedlyencounter in myths. It also assuages ourfears that our world might be fair game fordispassionate ET scientists, with theirglittering probes and omnipotent saucers.

Alas, it fails.

This book documents a mostunconventional slant on the enduring UFOmystery. In The Cryptoterrestrials, Iattempt to reconcile mythological andcontemporary accounts of “little people”into a coherent picture. In many ways, theimage that emerges is at least asfrightening as my original cyberneticpremise: it’s much closer to home, vastlyless abstract, and—tantalizingly—amenable to scientific testing.

I propose that at least some accounts ofalien visitation can be attributed to ahumanoid species indigenous to the Earth,a sister race that has adapted to ournumerical superiority by developing asurprisingly robust technology. Theexplicitly reproductive overtones thatcolor many encounters suggest that these

“indigenous aliens” are imperiled by amalady that has gone uncured throughoutthe eons we have coexisted. Driven by apuzzling mixture of hubris and existentialdesperation, they seek to perpetuatethemselves by infusing their gene-poolwith human DNA. While existing at thevery margins of ordinary humanperception, they have succeeded in realmspractically unexplored by knownterrestrial science, reinventing themselvesat will and helping to orchestrate amisinformation campaign of awe-inspiringscope.

Is the intelligence behind the close-encounter experience using science-fictional devices as a way of interactingwith us, much how a primatologist“communicates” with an orphaned monkey

via hand-puppet? If so, how to account fordescriptions of bug-like entities frompopulations who haven’t been primed toknow what an alien “should” look like?Maybe the ubiquitous “Gray” is simply acostume that works, in which case onecan’t help but yearn for a glimpse of nextyear’s fashions . . .

For too long, we’ve called them“aliens,” assuming that we represent ourplanet’s best and brightest.

Maybe that’s exactly what they want usto think.

CHAPTER 2

MisdirectionEvery few nights I get out my laser

pointer and indulge my cats in a freneticgame of “chase.” Cats are natural hunters,and they’re effectively incapable of notlooking at the quickly moving red dot thatI project onto the carpet, walls, or anypiece of furniture that happens to be in itspath.

To my cats, the red dot possesses itsown vitality. It exists as a distinct entity.While they may see me holding thepointer, they can’t (or won’t) be distractedby such things once the button is pressedand the living room is suddenly alive withluminous vermin. So they chase it. And, ifthey get close enough, even take swipes at

it—I make the dot “flee” or disappear inwhat seems like a concession of defeat(which, of course, only further arouses thecats’ predatory curiosity).

All the while I’m controlling the reddot, I’m taking pains to make it behavelike something intelligible. Just wavingthe pointer around the room wouldn’t beany fun. So I make it “climb,” “jump,” andscuttle when cornered, even though thelaser’s impervious to obstructions.

This sense of physicality seems to bethe element that makes chasing the laser soengaging—both for the cats and for me.

I can’t help but be reminded of ourcontinuing search for assumedextraterrestrial vehicles. UFO sightingsdemonstrate many of the same aspects of atypical feline laser hunt: mysterious

disappearances, “impossible” maneuvers,and a predilection for trickery—theapparent desire to be seen despite (orbecause of) a technology presumed to befar in advance of our own. More than oneUFO researcher has noted that UFOsbehave more like projections orholograms than nuts-and-bolts craft . . . anobservation that begs the nature of theintelligence doing the projecting.

According to astrophysicist Vallee,UFOs are part of a psychosocialconditioning system by which perceived“rewards” are doled out to reconcile forthe dearth of irrefutable physicalevidence. The phenomenon—whatever itsultimate nature—obstinately denies itself,thus enabling the very game it’s intent onplaying with us.

We see that sudden spark of red light;we pounce. This time we’ll catch it forsure.

*

My interest in UFOs crystallized inelementary school upon the discovery ofGary Kinder’s Light Years , an account ofthe alleged contacts of Swiss cultist BillyMeier. I wasn’t entirely sold by Kinder’sbook, but my interest was piqued (eventhough the emphatically human-lookingextraterrestrials described by Meiertroubled me on some unspoken level).

Later encounters with books aboutexobiology only made Meier’s storiessound all the more absurd. Not only did Ifind the commonly depicted “Grays” more

convincingly alien, I considered the bodyof “abductee” literature infinitely morecompelling than tales of sage galacticemissaries. Even if most accounts of“bedroom visitations” could be explainedin terms of sleep paralysis, there seemedto be a genuine signal embedded in thepop-cultural noise.

Throughout high school and college Irefined my study of UFO-themed literatureand came away thoroughly disillusioned—but oddly invigorated. Classicnarratives such as John Fuller’s TheInterrupted Journey and Jacques Vallee’sDimensions—an expanded version of hisseminal mythological analysis Passport toMagonia—convinced me that the“believers” had it wrong, as did themajority of self-proclaimed skeptics.

I’ve since waded through hundreds ofbooks about the alleged alien presence onour planet and come away largelyconvinced that we’re sharing our worldwith an advanced form of intelligence.While not necessarily extraterrestrial, thisintelligence is certainly not human in anynormal sense. Yet it interacts with us in amanner that, at times, seemscomprehensible—which isn’t what onewould expect of dispassionate observersor mere extraterrestrial anthropologists.

That we’ve seen traces of its existenceat all alludes to either its technologicalfallibility or its concerted desire to beseen. Both possibilities are disturbingfrom conventional exobiological andufological perspectives. The aliens—whatever they are—aren’t simply visiting.

They’ve quietly taken up residence.The more I researched the history and

morphology of “alien” contact, the more Ibecame convinced the reigningExtraterrestrial Hypothesis (ETH) wasprofoundly lacking. But even the mostlucid opponents of the ETH, aside fromoffering vague (albeit endlessly enticing)references to “other dimensions” and“parallel universes,” seemed dumbstruckby the phenomenon’s absurdity; I had yetto read of a plausible means by which the“aliens’” home world could intersect ourown, allowing a steady stream of ufonauts.

We typically assume interdimensionaltravel must involve arcane cosmologicalmachinery such as a wormhole or“stargate.” But I became increasinglydrawn to the idea that our visitors’ method

of travel is less flashy (from a technicalperspective) and more understandable interms of earthly—if bizarre—paranormalinfluences.

This led to my growing suspicion thatthe “aliens” typically attributed toextrasolar planets are less advanced thanthey lead us to believe. In fact, I think acase can be made that we’re dealing witha surprisingly vulnerable intelligence thatrelies largely on subterfuge anddisinformation to achieve its goals, atheme I attempt to address in laterchapters.

And as outlandish as it may seem, I’vebeen forced to wrestle with the notion thatour relationship with these “others” is farmore widespread and intimate than evenparanoid dramatizations of the UFO

spectacle would have us believe.These dawning suspicions are borne

out, at least in part, by world folklore(with its preoccupation with “littlepeople” in our midst) as well as by recentdiscoveries that suggest the history of ourspecies is more enigmatic than we’d liketo admit. We may well share our planetwith cryptohominids that have masteredthe art of camouflage in order to coexistwith us. More portentously, their agendamight be within our ability to grasp. But todo so, we must suspend the assumptionthat we’re dealing with something asquaint as ET astronauts.

The truth, unnervingly, seems muchcloser to home, threatening to displace oursense of self in a most unexpected manner.

*

I sometimes see my name used inconjunction with the word “ufology.”Loosely defined, ufology is the study ofthe UFO phenomenon. This includesdisciplines ranging from metallurgy topsychology, from neuroanatomy to stringtheory. The best UFO literature benefitsfrom the reasoned inclusion of as manyperspectives as possible, even those thatwould seem to refute the very phenomenonunder investigation. (The pronounced lackof such books is predominantly why it’sfashionable for intellectuals to adopt ascoffing, can’t-be-bothered approachwhen addressing UFOs—a most intriguingreaction, given that “UFO” simply denotesan aerial object of unknown origin.)

Am I a ufologist? I don’t know. Maybe.If I am, I should probably qualify the “U”word with “theoretical.” There aretheoretical physicists and literarytheorists; why not theoretical ufologists?

The ufological “community” suffersfrom creative anemia. It has adisheartening tendency to refute dissentingvoices—even those within its own ranks—with tired screeds that unnecessarilypolarize the debate (such as it is) betweencautious advocates of the ExtraterrestrialHypothesis and know-nothing sciencepopularizers who seem genuinelyincapable of considering the UFO inquiryoutside the cognitive barriers posed bydecades of cheesy sci-fi cinema and thelegacy of myriad True Believers.

So it’s no real surprise why ufology is

marginal. While its luminaries mightnoisily claim otherwise, ufologycollectively wants to be marginal. Withthe lamentable exception of a fewspokesmen who feel the need to “explain”the phenomenon’s intricacies to a warypublic (often in the guise of would-bepolitical discourse), the ostensible UFOcommunity remains afraid of stepping intothe rude glow of widespread publicattention.

And it has a right to be be afraid.Having dotingly constructed a theoreticalhouse of straw, many ufologicalproponents secretly prefer the tenuouscamaraderie of their peers to the muchmore exciting prospect of being takenseriously by science. (This isn’t tocondemn UFO research as anti-scientific;

perhaps the only reason the field remainsafloat at all is the pioneering effort ofscientists such as James McDonald, J.Allen Hynek, and Jacques Vallee.)

But the era of genuine hypotheses seemsto be nearing an end. The “old guard,”inexplicably enamored of theExtraterrestrial Hypothesis, is nowengaged in little more than ideologicalturf-wars. The boons of speculation havebeen quietly set aside in favor of modelsthat make just enough sense to allow theirdefenders to issue brittle proclamationswith semi-straight faces.

Meanwhile, the enigma persists—asalways, seemingly just beyond ourcomprehension. And we have the nerve towonder why.

CHAPTER 3

UFOs and theETH

What do we know about the UFOphenomenon? What can researchers agreeon, if anything? I certainly don’t expectthem to hop on the cryptoterrestrialbandwagon. Neither do I expect ufologiststo agree on the ever-nebulousInterdimensional Hypothesis, which raisesat least as many reality-altering questionsas it purports to answer.

At the same time, the Null Hypothesis,maintaining that UFOs can be universallyascribed to misidentified natural

phenomena and sightings ofunconventional earthly aircraft, has growndecrepit and toothless. Fashionabledebunking aside (up to and including thebrittle posturing of self-styled “alienexperts” such as the SETI Institute’s SethShostak), something absolutely fascinatingis happening.

Taking stock of the situation, I’mtempted to reduce the UFO riddle to a fewguiding tenets which I think can bereasonably supported by the evidenceprovided since the “modern” era ofsightings began more than 60 years ago. Alist of pertinent characteristics might golike this:

1.) Regardless of their origin, UFOs arephysically real.

2.) UFOs are sometimes observed

engaged in behavior which can only bedescribed as intelligently directed.

3.) The psychological and sociologicalimpact of the phenomenon is especiallyenduring and should be a topic ofparamount interest for scholars andresearchers in fields as disparate ascultural anthropology, aeronautics, andneurology.

4.) The sometimes theatrical behaviorof unidentified flying objects suggests thepossibility of some form of dialogue,whether directed by ourselves ororchestrated by the phenomenon itself.Likewise, certain military encounters inwhich weapons systems have beenapparently manipulated in intelligentfashion invite the prospect that the UFOintelligence is at least partially amenable

to understanding in terms of humanpsychology.

If the UFO intelligence is indigenous tothis planet, then the pronouncedextraterrestrial flavor of so many of ourmost hallowed (if controversial) beliefsmay be an attempt to convince us theanswer to the UFO riddle lies somewherein the stars.

So we gaze upward in wonder and fearwhile the phenomenon continues—unabated and overlooked.

*

UFOs cruise our skies with animplacable arrogance. If our visitors areindeed extrasolar aliens, then they have amost curious penchant for drama. If, on the

other hand, we’re observing the activitiesof a cryptoterrestrial civilization, theapparent desire to be seen can be readilyexplained in terms of misdirection.

“Alien” imagery is the perfect cover, asour own military understands all-too-well.Greg Bishop chronicles just one examplei n Project Beta, a devastating critique ofthe black-ops underworld and itsreadiness to exploit ET mythology inorder to deflate serious interest in secretAir Force projects.

By utilizing our innate fascination withinterplanetary visitors, thecryptoterrestrials have ensured that anyaccidental sightings of their craft will beascribed to the ETH. The mainstreammedia, quick to “debunk” for fear ofinciting ridicule, thus ignores credible

sightings and inadvertently assists thecryptoterrestrial agenda. And if by somechance the sighting is undeniable, itscultural connotations will almost certainlyrelegate it to our collective fortean attic.

In a related vein, I don’t think it’saccidental that so many UFOs are adornedwith mesmerizing flashing lights. Whileone can always argue that conspicuouslights indicate the presence of some trulyunearthly propulsion system, it’s just aspossible that they’re a deliberate (andrelatively low-tech) attempt to make arather ordinary conveyance lookunearthly, thereby eliciting the excitementof the very ET enthusiasts whose sightingsare certain to be ignored . . . or, at best,published in some obscure journal orwebsite.

As Vallee has astutely noted, manyaccounts of UFO landings have theundeniable flavor of staged events. Thecontroversial events at Rendlesham, forinstance, seem to make sense only if theywere intended to be witnessed, perhaps inan attempt to further impress us with theextraterrestrial meme. In the same vein,the famous Washington National sightingsof 1952, in which objects were trackedover Washington, D.C. with ground-andair-based radar and confirmed visually bymultiple witnesses, smack of anorchestrated event intended to arrest ourattention.

Intriguingly, the objects overWashington were limited to inexplicablesources of light—not the “structured craft”described in other notable cases. Could

the UFO intelligence use a form ofholography to trick us into thinking we’reobserving tangible vehicles? Thepossibility can’t be discounted. MichaelTalbot supports the holographic theory inhis book The Holographic Universe,noting that some UFO displays have morein common with sophisticated projectionsthan spacecraft.

The same can be said of many closeencounters of the third or fourth kind inwhich witnesses report anomalous spatialeffects. Some witnesses have describedthe interior of apparent alien vehicles asconsiderably larger than the craft as seenfrom outside; this odd detail, so bizarrewhen considered in isolation, might beexplained as a perceptual trick enacted bythe “aliens” to render their vehicles more

impressive than they actually are. Uponexiting, a witness would be more likely todescribe the experience in otherworldlyterms.

*

The UFO debate has becomeundeniably polarized, especially in theUnited States. Jacques Vallee hasattributed the fixation with theExtraterrestrial Hypothesis to the urge to“kick the tires,” which seems to suggestthat Americans are skeptical of alienvisitation. Rather paradoxically, pollsshow that Americans’ acceptance of alienvisitors in nuts-and-bolts spacecraft isalive and even thriving, with the end of the20th century’s rash of abduction reports

fueling belief in both ETs and a probablegovernment cover-up.

This predisposition to address the UFOenigma in predominantly “aerospace”terms has starved objective research byalienating mainstream scientists (boredwith unsubstantiated tales of closeencounters or odd lights in the sky) byimplying the phenomenon is necessarilyphysical. If physical, argue debunkers, thealien presence should be self-evident,especially in our era of automatedsurveillance.

Equally lamentable, little or no effort isexpended trying to fathom the psychologyof ETs. SETI, for instance, remainslargely a technological effort, withhypothetical aliens governed by the sameconceits and prejudices that influence the

field’s guiding researchers.This casual anthropomorphism

undermines the mainstream’s dealingswith ET intelligence. Needless to say, itcompletely bypasses the idea that someform of nonhuman intelligence mayalready be in our midst. If nonhumans arein fact at our doorstep, it stands to reasonthat they would exploit our predilectionfor “space aliens.” If they possess atechnology even slightly more advancedthan ours, staging “extraterrestrial”landings may prove irresistible.

But the extraterrestrial bias is evenmore damaging in scope. Its assumptionthat the cosmos will inevitably yield itssecrets to our ever-improving instrumentalcapability lures us from other, equallyenticing, models of reality that may have

much more bearing on the prospect ofnonhuman life and consciousness.Shamans of so-called “primitive” cultureshave long relied on altered states tocommunicate with otherworldlyintelligences. Psychedelic drugscommonly facilitate or heighten thiscommunication, implying a deep-rootedneurological mechanism. The variousaltered states described by “abductees”suggest a common origin, allowing thepossibility that “others” might exploitmind-to-mind communication as casuallyas we use cellphones and broadbandinternet.

If a shadow race of earthly humanoidshas achieved some form of telepathy, wemay be well on the way to bridging thegulf. Powerful computers have already

been set to work simulating theinteractions that define “thought” on thesub-cellular level. Electron microscopyhas revealed “protein microtubules”thought to make use of quantum effects.British mathematician Roger Penrose, anearly collaborator with Stephen Hawking,has claimed that our brains’ quantumnature prohibits the construction ofartificial minds—the stated aim ofartificial intelligence research. Althoughthe verdict certainly isn’t in—and may notbe until scientists unravel the mind-braindichotomy—it’s interesting to note therole of parallel universes in a worldgoverned by quantum mechanics.

Physicist David Deutsch, for instance,advocates the still-controversial ManyWorlds Interpretation (MWI) of quantum

theory, in which our universe bifurcateseach time a subatomic event’s wavefunction “collapses.” Taken to its dizzyingextreme, the MWI allows for a near-endless pageant of universes to encompassall conceivable outcomes. Deutsch baseshis verdict, in part, on the prospectivesuccess of quantum computers, devicesthat may one day appear to performcalculations by harnessing subatomicprocesses in other, closely related,interdimensional worlds.

Could the human brain, suitably“tuned,” produce comparable results?Given reports of humanoid beings“materializing” and “disappearing,” it’stempting to speculate that our visitorshave mastered a technology ofconsciousness, able to manipulate their

own wave functions and skip back andforth between multiple universes at thespeed of thought. This is one (admittedlycolorful) explanation for the lack ofphysical evidence; “they” might lurk in“hyperspace” as well as familiar, 3-Dspace-time. Moreover, this form of travelmight be accomplished without the needfor energy-intensive machinery; ifshamanic experiences are any indication,the ability to transcend space and timemight be a more fitting subject forparapsychologists than theoreticalphysicists.

Given that consciousness is likely aquantum function, deeply entangled withthe rest of the cosmos, is it unreasonableto seek out traces of the “alien” among us?Maybe the signal SETI astronomers await

will emanate from the depths of Self,cunningly disguised as human.

Also intriguing are accounts of“tulpas,” which are either objects orhuman-like entities crafted by purethought, according to certain esotericBuddhist beliefs. Capable of carrying outtasks on behalf of their creators, tulpasaren’t unlike the maddeningly transient“occupants” seen in or around“spacecraft” (sometimes digging for soilspecimens in an almost parodicreenactment of the Apollo Moonlandings).

While a more conventional flesh-and-blood explanation remains my centralproposal, we would be timid to avoidaddressing the UFO phenomenon’sparapsychological aspects. I find it likely

that an indigenous population of “aliens”would have experimented along “occult”lines out of sheer need for secrecy; a “nutsand bolts” technology can go a long waytoward ensuring anonymity in the face ofan intrusive human civilization, but theability to directly influence the fabric ofMind itself would be even more effectiveand perhaps less resource-intensive.

Thus, demonstrating the existence ofindigenous humanoids remainsproblematic. We might hope to catch upwith them, forcing them to revealthemselves in a most surreal form of the“disclosure” sought by proponents of“exopolitics.” Given startlingadvancements in quantum physics andcomputer science, we may be closer tothis pivotal moment than we know.

*

Given the vast resources of space itself,one eventually wonders why aliens arehere at all (assuming they are). After all, arobust civilization could remaincomfortably hidden drifting among theasteroids, ensconced in cometary ice orburied beneath the lunar surface. Sodespite the obvious anthropocentricobjections, I suspect the aliens (for lack ofa better term) are insatiably curious aboutus, possibly driven to distraction by ourpresence. Perhaps we shouldn’t be overlysurprised to find that their world, asforeign as it promises to be, virtuallyrevolves around our own.

Maybe one of the reasons we have yet

to make irrefutable contact withextraterrestrials is because ETcivilizations tend to reach a point ofterminal decadence, an erotic cul-de-sacthat precludes exploration. (Compare andcontrast such an implosion to the“Singularity” too many of us are waitingfor with bated breath.) Sufficientlyadvanced ETs might while away themillennia in a hedonistic stupor, brains (ortheir equivalent) melded to pleasure-generating devices.

It’s even possible the pleasure-generating devices themselves may be theintelligences with whom we eventuallyestablish contact.

SETI, by definition, is the search forextraterrestrial intelligence (ETI). Sowhat happens to the SETI Institute if and

when the search comes to an end?Seth Shostak, Jill Tarter, and their

colleagues are not comparativeanthropologists. They’re not versed inlinguistics or biology or art. They merelysearch. If a signal is detected, will theydeign to release their grip on the ETIinquiry and allow more capable minds tospearhead the investigation?

In paranoid moments—and there cannever be enough of them—I have towonder if SETI has any real plans todisseminate the discovery of an ETmessage. After all, acknowledgment of thesignal, while certainly hard-wonvindication for many scientists, couldconceivably trigger the end of the search—and with it the end of the SETI Instituteas we know it.

*

Many UFO encounters seem less likechance sightings of extraterrestrialhardware than staged events conceived byan overarching intelligence that may havelittle to do with the will of perceived“occupants.” The robust capabilities andresources at the disposal of a galaxy-spanning post-”Singularity” intelligenceshould be more than up to the task ofcommunicating with us.

Are we confident that suchcommunication would be limited toelectromagnetic exchanges? In light of RayKurzweil’s amply demonstrated law ofaccelerating returns, perhaps it’s just aslikely that our first conversation with

extraterrestrials will take the form of acomplex psychosocial experiment (inwhich unconventional flying objects mayplay only a partial role). Althoughundoubtedly physical, it’s an openquestion whether “real” UFOs aremetallic spacecraft in the familiar sense(although in the early days of thephenomenon researchers quickly fastenedto the idea, sensing appealing parallelswith our own aerospace ventures).Dispensing with the conventional notionof “mere” ET craft allows us to view theUFO problem as a manifestation oftechnologies ranging from von Neumannmachines to nanobotic “utility fog.”

If the ET intent is to test our reactions toits presence (or something more profound,as the phenomenon’s impact on our

mythology might indicate), quicklyassembling “ships” and even “aliens”from raw materials would enable thedisparity of forms seen in the sky. Theflexibility of nanotech construction wouldallow the UFO intelligence to respond toour preconceptions in “real time,” therebyensuring a permanent foothold in thecollective unconscious while maintainingplausible deniability—at least amongthose tasked with policing potentiallysubversive memes.

Anthropologists have remarked on theinability of less-advanced cultures toprofitably adapt to the arrival of moresophisticated cultures. UFOs, with alltheir attendant pageantry (includingviolation of military airspace and otherairborne theater) are consistent with a

form of deliberate invitation, perhapsimposed by an intelligence that—like themonolith-builders from 2001—promisesto elude human comprehension.

*

That the UFO phenomenon is sorampant argues against extraterrestrialorigin and favors an intelligence with apenchant for theater. While it’s possible toargue that a visiting ET civilization couldbe staging sightings as part of some sort oflong-term social experiment (or even asan acclimatization program), it’s at leastas tempting to discard the ETH entirely.But the remaining options infringe deeplyon our collective sense of self, making theETH a comforting—if unwieldy—

recourse.Genuine ET visitors would probably

have little need for the conspicuousmaneuvers and trace evidence that formthe backbone of the ETH. In the event ofalien visitation, it’s likely we’d never seeobjects resembling recognizable craft—letalone vehicles encumbered with attention-grabbing lights and adorned withportholes.

Our own technological trajectorysuggests that a full-scale planetaryreconnaissance could be achieved usingincredibly small devices. A nanotech“smart dust,” for instance, could infiltrateand reap a vast real-time harvest ofinformation—all without our knowing. Aswe prepare to use such technologies tostudy our own planet (and its inhabitants)

in ever-increasing detail, we’re forced toquestion prevailing ufologicalassumptions. While scintillating“spaceships” and irradiated landing sitesare certainly cause for wonder andscientific concern, they appearsuspiciously mired in the science fantasiesof the previous century.

Where are the real alien technologies?Hidden, perhaps, behind the subterfuge of“motherships” that have haunted our skiessince at least the 1950s? If a civilizationwanted to keep us preoccupied with bogussightings, the modern UFO spectaclewould certainly seem elaborate enough todo the job. But it’s difficult to imaginewhy ETs would bother, in turn suggestingan intelligence much closer to home.

To Vallee, the answer was a

“multiverse” of interpermeable realities:the “ufonauts” engaged our sense ofmythology because they hailed from anaspect of space-time ever-so-slightlyremoved from our own. To John Keel,both UFO displays and “monster”sightings were psychic distractionsenforced by an unseen intelligence.

Both ideas, while attractive, ask that weshed the ETH in favor of something withmore immediate existential consequences.More damningly (from a researchperspective), both Vallee’s multiverse andKeel’s “superspectrum” beg for nothingless than a redefinition of the physicaluniverse.

It’s hardly surprising that “mainstream”ufologists greet such ideas with mixedreactions; after all, the phenomenon has

repeatedly demonstrated physicalcharacteristics amenable to empiricalscience. Ufologists, already burdened bythe omnipresent “giggle factor,” had longsince ceased to speculate about the originand purpose of UFOs in favor of obtainingphysical “proof.”

In hindsight, perhaps this was thephenomenon’s intention all along.

CHAPTER 4

The AbductionEpidemic

A journeyman ufologist’s introductionto the abduction phenomenon usuallybegins with a recounting of the capture ofBetty and Barney Hill in New Hampshirein 1961. Believed at the time to be thefirst kidnapping of humans by UFOoccupants, the Hills’ account containsvirtually all of the elements contained inlater narratives (which reached a near-fever pitch in the mid-1990s, stoked by anobliging media and the success of severalinfluential books).

There’s little doubt that somethingunusual happened to the Hills. At the very

least, both Betty and Barney recalledseeing an unidentified object apparentlytrailing their car. The account becomesmore explicit upon Barney’s attempt toview the object through binoculars; uponmagnification, he witnessed a “pancake”-shaped vehicle sporting triangular fins andred lights. More startling yet, he coulddiscern occupants behind a row ofwindows, including one raptly staringhumanoid he found especially threatening.The ensuing abduction has become thestuff of ufological legend, as has the Hillsbout with “missing time,” an element thatrecurs throughout later accounts.

Under hypnosis by Boston psychiatristDr. Benjamin Simon, Betty recalled aconspicuously chatty alien “leader” whosehuman demeanor was only slightly less

outlandish than his bizarre questions.Ironically, the Hill abduction—widelycited as one of the best cases to suggest anextraterrestrial origin for UFOs—is atleast as amenable to indigenous beingsengaged in deliberate psychodrama. The“leader’s” presentation, complete with 3-D star map showing alien trade routes—seems staged, his queries sampled from“B”-movie science fiction.

Nevertheless, one comes away from theHill episode forced to confront what wasalmost certainly a “real” encounter. Butthe reigning interpretation—that the Hillswere the victims of a chance run-in withET interlopers—owes more of its appealto the mythological syntax at our disposalthan any particular piece of evidence.(Barney’s testimony, while deemed

sincere by Simon, is notably less explicitthan Betty’s and may well betray unwittingcontamination from his wife.)

Inquiry into the nascent abductionphenomenon was forced to adapt to thenow-familiar reproductive overtones uponthe rediscovery of the Antonio VillasBoas case of 1957. Boas, a farmer,claimed a forcible encounter with a UFOin which he had sex with a fair-skinnedfemale. Like today’s “Grays,” Boasdescribed his seductress as short andlarge-eyed, with a lipless mouth andpointed chin that suggest the coverpainting for Whitley Strieber’s best-selling Communion, not published until1987. Though exotic, she was far from thespecimen expected from mere eroticfantasy; Boas himself described her as

paradoxically repellent and desirable.Reading his account (initially withheld bythe UFO community for being toooutlandish), one wonders in what waysBoas might have been coerced into hissexual encounter, an ordeal that left himoddly emasculated, resigned to havingserved as mere breeding stock. (Althoughcritics are quick to point out his possiblyself-aggrandizing reference to himself as a“prize stud.”)

Before Boas was escorted off the“spaceship,” the woman pointedsignificantly to her abdomen and in thedirection of the sky. Advocates of theExtraterrestrial Hypothesis haveinterpreted this as a reference to thewoman’s ET heritage, but at the same timethey’ve effectively ignored the

troublesome prospect of geneticcompatibility. Granted that Boas hadintercourse with an extraterrestrial, whatare the chances that two independentlyevolved humanoid species could “mate”in any viable sense?

I n Revelations, Jacques Valleecompares the feasibility of conceiving ahuman-alien hybrid to that of a humanattempting to breed with an insect.Certainly, if Boas encountered a genuineET, then “they” have achieved a mostremarkable degree of impersonation—notan altogether impossible achievement fora civilization capable of travelingbetween stars, but one that arousessubstantial skepticism. The law ofparsimony begs the speculation that thebeings who abducted Boas were human in

at least some essential respects.

*

As Vallee has noted, we seem to bedealing with a phenomenon that adapts tothe reigning symbolism of any given era.That said, perhaps the idea that we’redealing with something fundamentally“other” is a ploy enacted by a planetarymind of which we’re inextricablyentangled. Contemporary abductionreports are fraught with much of the sameambiguity. While an abductee’ssurroundings may seem bizarre enough toan addled witness, evidence of extrasolarorigin is at best superficial. Occasionallyan abductee reports visionary episodes(apparently instigated by the abductors

with the assistance of audio-visualtechnology that recalls Betty Hill’s famousstar map). Abduction researchers likeBudd Hopkins and David Jacobs areforever on the lookout for hypnoticallyderived alien symbols, perhaps glimpsedon walls or uniforms, in hopes of findingvalidating tools for future research.

But what too often passes unmentionedis the relative dearth of reports involvingtransport from the abductee’s normalenvironment to that of the supposed ETs.In many cases, no mention is made of aUFO or “spaceship”; the transition from“here” to “there” proceeds with unnervinghaste, often accompanied by partialamnesia and a wordless certainty ofhaving been taken vast distances. (Reportsof actually visiting otherworldly locales,

common fare in the heyday of thecontactees, are seldom encountered in theabduction literature.)

The quintessential alien environment isspartan, unencumbered by decor. Thealiens are characterized as colorless,dispassionate creatures whose behaviorresembles that of hive-dwelling insects oreven machines. As in the Hill case, there’ssometimes a “leader” in attendance,although the tone of the abduction is farfrom conversational. Any “wisdom”imparted by the aliens is predominantlyvague or philosophically obstinate. Andwhile the beings can seem terrificallyunearthly in the flesh, they avoid explicitreferences that might shed light on theirorigin or purpose.

Debunkers have pounced on the

endlessly elusive nature of the abductionexperience in order to expediently dismissit. In The Demon-Haunted World , forexample, Carl Sagan laments the fact thatabductees have yet to emerge withartifacts that would demonstrate thephysical reality of their experiences.

Many UFO occupant incidents have asurreal flavor that initially seems tocontradict the phenomenon’s physicality.If some run-ins with ufonauts are stagedevents engineered to encourage belief in(and subsequent dismissal of) theExtraterrestrial Hypothesis, “they”perhaps couldn’t have done a better jobthan the 1955 Hopkinsville “invasion,” inwhich the Sutton family of Kentucky wasterrorized by a clutch of diminutive“goblins” who reportedly levitated and

proved immune to gunfire.Arthur C. Clarke’s maxim

notwithstanding, the Hopkinsville goblinsare an intriguing fusion of the “real” andthe “magical.” Their abilities seemcalculated to tarnish an empiricalapproach to the ETH by introducingelements of the fantastic; indeed, thesesame elements would eventually be usedas ammunition by would-be skepticsdetermined to denounce the account.

While not necessarily out of the realmof possibility for genuine ETs, theentities’ goblin-like appearance argues foran origin in keeping with folklore. If theywere “real,” then their reality might not beas amenable to the ETH as researcherswould like. Conversely, the desire todebunk the Sutton family’s claim appears

little more than a protest against theepisode’s surreal nature.

UFO researchers like their aliens toabide by 20th century preconceptions ofwhat alien beings should look like;entities like those observed inHopkinsville comprise a kind of viralassault on conformist ufology byinsinuating themselves into reigningconceits and quietly subverting ETHdogma. Ultimately, their existence ismarginalized and becomes less ufologicalthan “fortean.” We’re asked, in effect, toconsider the Hopkinsville visitors andtheir like as somehow separate anddistinct from “hardcore” case-files thatmore readily suggest extraterrestrialvisitation. We do so at our peril. EvenUFO cases central to advocates of the

ETH sometimes betray a psychosocialagenda. (“Dogfights” and radar-visualengagements with UFOs, whileimpressive evidence that the phenomenonis anything but simply visionary, alsopresent the specter of an inexplicably“playful” disposition; this clashes withdogmatic assurances that extrasolar alienswould refrain from such childishbehavior.)

Encounters with “Hopkinsville-type”beings demonstrate an undeniablecommonality with both folkloric sourcesand the contemporary UFO phenomenon.Taken together, these inconvenientsimilarities force us to question the easycertainties that prevailed in the 1950s,when visiting space aliens seemed all-but-inevitable. “Limbo” cases like

Hopkinsville allow us to assess thephenomenon in a brighter, less sulliedlight.

While one can argue endlessly in favorof a literal extraterrestrial interpretation, aholistic approach leads us to consider thatthe UFO intelligence not only wants toperpetuate itself via dramatic encounterswith ostensible “occupants,” but intends todiscredit its own machinations: it stagesexciting UFO events that infect both theresearch community and the popularimagination, knowing that thephenomenon’s inherent absurdity willeventually inspire cognitive dissonanceand undermine attempts to arrive at anindictment.

We’re thus conditioned to accept theETH one moment only to succumb to the

“giggle factor” the next, never peeringpast the curtain to see the agenda behindthe special effects. We’re kept in a sort ofamnesiac stupor, occasionally graced byvisits from what can only be structured ETcraft . . . and then deflated by the latestbizarre “occupant” report or account of“missing time.”

Our infatuation with the unknown issystematically provoked and dismantledby a memetic campaign that’s never lessthan astute in its grasp of human belief.

*

Before “abductees,” there were“contactees.” Former Ministry of DefenseUFO investigator Nick Pope dealsrefreshingly with the contactee movement

in his book The Uninvited, questioning theconventional wisdom that all thoseclaiming benevolent contact with human-looking ETs were hoaxers and cranks.Instead, noting the distinct vein ofduplicity that accompanies the history ofparanormal visitation, he proposes that atleast some of the contactees may havebeen dealing with genuine “others.” Thatthese others made their first appearance asspace travelers shortly after the creationof nuclear weapons, while typicallyattributed to social factors, may belie theirterrestrial origin. If you lived amongsavages with increasingly destructivedevices at their disposal, it may prove alltoo tempting to intervene, but in a waythan denies your own existence at thesame time it propagates your message.

If we share our planet with indigenoushumanoids—and I think the case forterrestrial origin is at least as robust as theExtraterrestrial Hypothesis—then it wouldcertainly appear that we’re numerically—if not technically—superior. The “others”would be forced to live at the periphery ofnormal human perception, perhapsutilizing techniques analogous to recentbreakthroughs with brain-machineinterfaces and “mind control.”

I find it highly suspicious, for example,that so many encounters with apparentaliens involve exposure to chemicals andneedles inserted into the victim’s head.Sometimes close encounter witnesses areasked to drink noxious-tasting beveragesprior to conversing with the “crew,” orsubjected to imagery that can be ascribed

to psychedelic “conditioning.” It wouldcertainly seem that the aliens—terrestrialor otherwise—prefer to alter ourperceptions prior to establishing contact.Given the selfish motives attributed toUFO occupants by researchers like BuddHopkins, the most coherent explanationfor these techniques is that we’re beingcompelled to participate without theluxury of trusting our senses.

Thus, even discounting the innumerablereports of “missing time,” the abductionexperience is consummately secretive—anaspect that fails to concur with the popularimage of dispassionate ET scientists(who, presumably, care as little about ourearthly affairs as lab workers sympathizewith their rats). The mere fact that theETs’ posthypnotic commands to forget the

experience can be overridden with suchsurprising ease suggests we’re dealingwith something other than extrasolaraliens.

Whoever these others are, their grasp ofour psychical vocabulary is nothing shortof startling; this enduring human aspectsuggests, gently, a long and intimaterelationship with our species—not thequick, pragmatic harvest we mightreasonably expect from genuine ETs.

But if the Others’ interest inreproduction can be accepted at facevalue—and its ubiquitous nature indicatesthat it’s an integral component of thecontact experience by almost any measure—what does it portend?

Once we finish sifting through esoterichypotheses, we’re left with the troubling

prospect that at least one “ultraterrestrial”society in our midst is suffering from apotentially debilitating genetic syndrome—and they’re desperate and savvy enoughto harvest our population for a possiblelong-term fix. I don’t think this impliesmalice; if the situation were reversed,we’d almost certainly do the same thing,taking equally distressing measures toensure our anonymity.

Needless to say, the anthropologicalconsiderations are enormous. Delvingfurther requires a healthy sense of“recreational paranoia”—as well as theability to suspend deep-rootedpreconception.

*

The abduction phenomenon quite rightlyinvites skepticism, but it’s oftenmisinformed. Unlike many would-bedebunkers, Terry Matheson’s book, AlienAbductions, reveals an astute familiaritywith the principal texts (John Fuller’s TheInterrupted Journey, Raymond Fowler’sbooks on Betty Andreasson, etc.).Matheson raises valid points about theway popular authors present strangememes to an astonished (if oftencredulous) readership. In so doing, hesounds a scholarly alarm that writers ofthe paranormal ignore at their peril.

I happen to agree with Matheson insofaras the influence of narrative bias isconcerned. And I’m sympathetic to theprospect that the popularly conceivedalien abduction phenomenon offers a

glimpse into a mythology in the making.(Refreshingly, Matheson takes issue withfellow debunkers who would have usignore the phenomenon altogether simplybecause it seemingly fails to live up to the“nuts and bolts” standards of conformistufology.)

Alien Abductions is an expose of best-known selections from the abductionliterature, hardly a broad-spectrumanalysis of the subject. As such, it remainsa valid insight into the mythic potential ofwhat might be a reality quite beyond ourgrasp. But its scope is severely limited.For example, Matheson appears contentaccepting the Extraterrestrial Hypothesisas the only sensible “pro-UFO”interpretation. I don’t share this certainty.While there’s no doubt that the

phenomenon has fueled a disturbingly far-reaching contemporary mythology,exposing the questionable techniquesemployed by authors of abduction booksdoes little to resolve larger, moretroubling issues.

To his credit, Matheson pointedlydistances the “abduction” epidemic fromthe UFO phenomenon; we have yet toestablish that UFOs are here to snatchhumans for the purposes of some alienagenda. On the other hand, some UFOsbetray what can only be some form ofintelligence, however rudimentary; thisalone begs the question of what they’rehere for (assuming they came fromelsewhere) and, more excitingly, what theimplications might be for humanconsciousness.

Kevin Randle, co-author of the lucidThe Abduction Enigma, is a sincereproponent of the ExtraterrestrialHypothesis. He’s also a critic ofabductions; like Matheson, he views theUFO mystery as distinct from claims ofalien intrusion. While I appreciate thismuch-ignored distinction, I’m not certainit’s necessarily warranted, especially asthe Extraterrestrial Hypothesis remains astubborn controversy in its own right. Wecould very well be dealing with anindigenous nonhuman intelligence, inwhich case the assumptions of abductiondebunkers, whose arguments are couchedin extraterrestrial terminology, arestripped of their skeptical allur For themost part, the ufological landscaperemains a sparring ground for entrenched

notions of dispassionate ET visitors andequally tenacious claims of populardelusion. Consequently, we’ve gone aboutattempting to “debunk” a phenomenon thatcontinues to defy definition. While many—if not most—well-known abductionnarratives are indeed fallible, disquietingfindings from emerging (or suppressed)disciplines promise to reframe the debate.

I suspect the truth, if we can find it, willbe considerably weirder than “mere”extraterrestrial visitors or sociologicallyinduced fantasy.

*

My personal take on the abduction“epidemic” is that many reports canindeed be attributed to novel—if perfectly

nonpathological—mental states. Havingexperienced sleep paralysis, I can’thonestly deride the common debunkingclaim that a high percentage of “bedroomvisitations” originate from theexperiencer’s state of immobilization andaccompanying sense of presence.

But sleep paralysis is not the finalword. It does nothing, for example, toexplain encounters that occur when theparticipant if fully awake. Nor can itaccount for abduction cases withwitnesses, or comfortably encompasscases in which a UFO is present at thetime of the reported abduction.

The questions that logically arise, giventhe limitations of the sleep paralysishypothesis (and related “explanations”),are simple: who—or what—is

responsible? And what are theimplications?

If we allow ourselves to concede theexistence of a nonhuman intelligence—ifonly as a thought experiment—answers tothis conundrum begin to show themselves,faintly but evocatively suggestingdeliberate intent.

A central motif of reported alienabductions, as well as folkloric accountsof kidnappings by nonhuman beings, is thegoal of producing “hybrid” offspring,humanoid children who are able tostraddle the bridge between human societyand that of the “others.”

Because of its alarming (andperipherally erotic) overtones, the“hybridization program” has become astaple ingredient in many books purporting

to explain alien abductions, such as TheThreat by David Jacobs and BuddHopkins’ Sight Unseen. Jacobs, Hopkins,and their peers believe that the UFO andabduction phenomena are necessarilyinterlinked: UFOs are exotic vehiclesused by the abductors to further theiragenda. In what I’ve termed the “SilentInvasion Scenario,” the ubiquitous Graysare suffering from some sort of geneticmalady and must rely on infusions ofhuman DNA to survive—sometimes withgovernmental complicity.

The “hybridization program”encountered in books on the abductionphenomenon implies an advancedknowledge of genetics. But if “they” arereally an unacknowledged aspect of ourourselves, their genetic prowess needn’t

be in advance of our own. It’s likelywe’re genetically compatible—certainlyan unnerving prospect given the manyreferences to strangely mannered humansseen in the wake of UFO sightings.

I n Sight Unseen, Budd Hopkins andCarol Rainey argue that interbreedingdoesn’t rule out the ExtraterrestrialHypothesis. By noting recentdevelopments in transgenics, they showthat different species can be paired in thelaboratory, resulting in chimeras, animalswith the traits of two (or more) species,offering support to the notion that ETscould successfully “mate” with us.

In fact, the near-future biotech economypromises a harvest of chimeric species,some exceptionally novel. Within a fewyears, pigs with human organs may

become commonplace back-ups forpeople needing transplants.Understandably, ethicists are increasinglyunsettled by the specter of animals withhuman-level intelligence. Assuming ageneticist rises to the challenge ofbecoming a latter-day Dr. Moreau, themedical community will be forced tograpple with the very definition of“human.”

The future world presented in BladeRunner is highly illustrative. In the film,police officers must track down and killfugitive “replicants”—geneticallyengineered androids intent on bypassingtheir built-in expiration dates. BladeRunner’s replicants are flesh-and-blood,and share their genetic heritage with their“creators.” While one may argue that

they’re synthetic and hence mere machinesto be utilized, their complex emergentbehavior belies any such trite definition.

Hopkins and Rainey maintain that it isindeed possible for aliens to reproduceusing human genetic material. While theirresearch is often fascinating, they fail toaddress the anthropology of the encounterexperience. More importantly, in terms ofdetermining whether “they” are from hereor come from somewhere else, SightUnseen limits its focus to a mere handfulof reports, excluding folkloric evidencethat might undermine its arguments. Theresult, as readers of Hopkins’ previousbooks can imagine, is highly readable butcommitted to an exclusivelyextraterrestrial interpretation.

Extrasolar aliens or not, the transgenic

angle allows for an illuminatingreassessment of the Indigenous orCryptoterrestrial Hypothesis (CTH).Cryptoterrestrial (CT) hybrids may be“replicants” tailored to survival-orientedtasks, such as infiltrating human society.This raises a most interesting question: ifclose encounters typically involve morehuman-like CTs, such as the Grays, who’sto say there isn’t a rogues gallery ofprogressively stranger beings lurkingbehind the curtain? We could be dealingwith a vast, intricate genome with noobvious “roots.” Depending on thespecimen, casual scientific examinationmay give the false impression that a givenCT is terrestrial; conversely, it may behailed as “proof” of extraterrestrial life.

Maybe the CTs comprise a hive-mind,

with humanoids at only one end of thespectrum. At the other end we might findmore exotic beings, such as the mantis-like “leaders” sometimes seen presidingover abductions. Ultimately, could theCTs be insectile? The prospect is deeplyironic, given humanity’s buried fear of theinsect world. We’re conditioned to accept“bugs” as miniature grotesqueries to beswatted or stepped on. Discovering we’reat the mercy of their larger, more capablecousins would be more upsetting thanfinding that the answer to the CT riddle is“merely” a disenfranchised offshoot of ourown species.

In any case, we won’t know the trueface of our elusive residents unless weundertake a thorough review of “occupantencounters,” both in modern ufological

literature and in world folklore. Even asuperficial reading shows that we’relikely dealing with a sister species ofincredible tenacity and a chameleon-likesense of invisibility.

But if I’m correct, we mustn’t be tooenthralled by their abilities. Seen upclose, the CTs are more than a littlesympathetic, governed by a fear ofextinction and determined to persistdespite our ever-encroaching globalcivilization. Their seeming infallibility isa studious pretense triggered, in part, bythe advent of the nuclear era. It’s nocoincidence that the modern UFO erablossomed in the aftermath of the world’smost destructive—and geographicallyintrusive—war.

*

Unable to disprove a negative, I haveno choice but to concede that some UFOencounters may originate from space. Andit would be the height of arrogance toproclaim that the ExtraterrestrialHypothesis and the CryptoterrestrialHypothesis are mutually exclusive. And ofcourse, cryptoterrestrials don’t preclude“interdimensional” travelers either. Wecould be experiencing a veritable pageantof entities hailing from many locations,both within our known universe and fromuniverses linked to ours. Candidates forthe latter possibility include the insect-like creatures described by “trippers”who take Dimethyltryptamine, otherwiseknown as DMT (the alleged “spirit

molecule”). The consistency of DMTexperiences invites the possibility that itliterally allows access to another reality.

I’m reminded of an off-hand referenceto white, mantis-like entities offered byPhilip K. Dick years before thepopularization of the archetypical bug-eyed “Gray.” Could Dick, via hisexperimentation with psychedelic drugs,have happened across the domain ofbeings similar to those described byabductees?

These questions beg for a taxonomy ofthe otherworldly. While many UFOabductions involve insect-like creatures,it’s unclear if the “Grays” are directlyrelated to the beings encountered in thepsychedelic realm. Confusingly, many“abduction” accounts feature mantis-like

“leaders” operating in liaison with morehuman-like Grays; some reports suggestthe Grays are a subservient species,perhaps even genetically engineereddrones. The ever-controversial WhitleyStrieber has described inert alien bodiescoming to life, likening them to “divingsuits” used for dealing directly in thematerial world.

Given the vast number of reported out-of-body and near-death experiences, I findit difficult to reject the prospect of“nonlocal” consciousness; perhaps asufficiently advanced technology canmanipulate the “soul” as easily as wesplice genes or mix chemicals in testtubes. If so, encounters with“extraterrestrials” may help provide aworking knowledge of how to modify and

transfer consciousness—abilities thatseem remote to the current terrestrialstate-of-the-art, but may prove invaluablein a future where telepresence and virtualreality are integral to communication.Already, the capabilities of brain-machineinterfaces are tantalizingly like thepopular perception of telepathy, oftenthought of in strictly “paranormal” or even“magical” terms.

If we’re sharing the planet withcryptoterrestrials, it’s feasible they’veanticipated breakthroughs in our ownembryonic “technology of consciousness”and may even rely on such techniques toperpetuate the prevailing wisdom that theyoriginate from the far reaches of space.Contactees and abductees alike describethe interiors of “alien” vehicles in

curiously cinematic terms. The insides ofpresumed spaceships often seem likelavish props from never-filmed sci-fidramas. The aliens don’t fare any better;they behave like jesters, dutifullyregurgitating fears of ecological blight andnuclear war but casually insertingallusions that seem more in keeping withdisinformation than genuine ETrevelations.

After intercourse, the big-eyedsuccubus that seduced Brazilian abducteeAntonio Villas-Boas pointed skyward,implying a cosmic origin. But the merefact that she appeared thoroughly female—and, moreover, attractive—belies anunearthly explanation. Further, one couldargue that the clinical environment heencountered aboard the landed

“spacecraft” was deliberately engineeredto reinforce his conviction that he wasdealing with extraterrestrials. (Ifcryptoterrestrials are using humans toimprove their genetic stock, it stands toreason they’ve seen at least a few of oursaucer movies. As consummateanthropologists, they likely know what weexpect of “real” ETs and can satisfy ourpreconceptions with a magician’s skill.)

However, it’s possible they makemistakes. Strieber, for example, describedthe inside of a presumed vehicle asdownright messy and seemingly unclean,complete with discarded garments—certainly not what we would expect of“advanced” aliens. Could his “visitors”have been in a rush? If his account is to beaccepted, the “aliens” operate in an

almost military fashion, carrying out theiragenda with the economy of insects andtheir lockstep, machine like behavior.This suggests time is of the essence,consistent with an indigenous origin.While we might expect an alienintelligence millions of years aheadourselves to casually elude detection, therushed nature of many abductions is morein keeping with an Earth-based task force.

Further, the assumed spaceships thatplay such a central role in the ET mythosare often observed behaving in a mannerconsistent with an only moderatelyadvanced technology. Indigenoushumanoids intent on convincing us we’redealing with interstellar propulsion mightutilize surprisingly primitive devices,perhaps even stooping to specially

modified balloons or blimps designed toevade capture for limited periods. Such acampaign would be cheap, capable ofcapturing the attention of hundreds if notthousands of witnesses, and—mostimportantly—further polarizing the UFOcontroversy among proponents of ETvisitation and career “skeptics.”

The device that crashed near Roswellin the summer of 1947, whatever it was,featured properties at least superficiallylike the high-altitude balloon trainsultimately cited as an explanation by theAir Force. Debunkers have, of course,seized on the lack of revealingly “high-tech” components found among the debristo dismiss the possibility that the crashwas anything but a case ofmisidentification; not even Maj. Jesse

Marcel, the intelligence officer whoadvocated an ET origin for the unusualfoil and structural beams, mentionedanything remotely resembling an engine orpower-plant.

The Cryptoterrestrial Hypothesis offersa speculative alternative: maybe theRoswell device wasn’t high-tech. It couldindeed have been a balloon-bornesurveillance device brought down in astorm, but it doesn’t logically follow thatit was one of our own. Given the top-secret projects underway in the AmericanSouthwest in the late 1940s, one couldhardly blame inquisitive cryptoterrestrialsfor wanting a closer look. And in themidst of possible human experimentation,secretive eavesdroppers might haveunderstandably opted for an unmanned

device lest they lose a crewed vehicle toan accident . . . or human aggression.Upon happening across such a troublingand unexpected find, the Air Force’sexcessive secrecy begins to make sense.

The Roswell incident may have beenthe U.S. government’s first directevidence of an indigenous intelligence.Indeed, subsequent policy decisions canbe interpreted as a response to aperceived nonhuman threat.

*

I’ve speculated that the diversehumanoid forms encountered by“abductees” and UFO witnesses might bebest understood in terms of a “hivesociety,” replete with “drones”

engineered to perform specialized tasks.Given the current state of (known)transgenic research, it’s certainly temptingto wonder if the cryptoterrestrials havebeen using similar techniques for ages.(The “hairy dwarves” of South Americamight be attempts to fuse humanoid andprimate DNA; likewise, the mantis-likebeings described presiding over theubiquitous Grays might literally beinsectile.)

Which invites the obvious question: whoor what came first?

One of the tenets of the CTH is thatcryptoterrestrials have developed a“technology of consciousness” (to borrowa phrase from Whitley Strieber) that, inmany practical respects, rivals our owntechnological prowess. One outcome of a

fully realized technology of the mind is theability to inhabit and shed bodies at will,much like a scientist “inhabiting” thesensorium of a far-flung robot.

Science fiction writers continue todebate what methods we’ll use whencolonizing a planet such as Mars.Ultimately, we might choose to terraformthe world into a facsimile of our own. Butwe could just as easily decide to modifyourselves to tolerate inclimate conditions. Aposthuman civilization could take upresidence in orbit and populate the surfacewith lifelike, semi-autonomous drones.Visiting another locale could be as easy aslogging into another body stationedelsewhere on the planet. Two or morepersonae might even elect to inhabit thesame body for the sake of economy.

Such a civilization may seem remote,but the general concept is already inpractice; if our telerobotic probescontinue to increase in sophistication andbrain-power, they’ll eventually becomeindistinguishable from living creatures, atwhich point we will have effectivelyachieved the “Singularity” advocated bytechnoprogressives such as roboticistHans Moravec and inventor RayKurzweil.

If my hypothetical indigenoushumanoids practice telepresence at theneurological level—perhaps bymanipulating the electromagnetic fieldsthat constitute “consciousness”—theimplications are far more disturbing thanone might think. The ability to transfer“souls” entails the possibility of

“possession.” It also allows for “Walk-Ins” and “Wanderers,” New Age terms foralleged non-corporeal aliens who takecommand of human bodies.

Taken to its logical extreme,“biological telepresence” offers anexpansive—if tentative—explanation formyriad “occult” phenomena. It potentiallyexplains why we seldom see thecryptoterrestrials in the flesh. If they’vemastered the technique of projectingthemselves into our world from the safetyof their enclaves, they’d have little reasonto “mingle” with us unless compelled byan important purpose. (Displays ofapparent technological superiority, forexample, might demand the use of physicalhardware—although we can’t dismiss thepossibility that some UFO sightings, while

seemingly physical events, might beenacted on a psychological level. Ourown neurological dabbling demonstratesthat such techniques are less exotic thansome may expect; indeed, if neuroscientistMichael Persinger is correct, radiationemitted from natural phenomena cansometimes result in convincinghallucinations.)

This psychotronic interpretationsuggests the cryptoterrestrial influence isvirtually omnipotent, each of usfunctioning as a potential node in a sort ofplanetary internet. A resource of suchscope would be dotingly maintained—andfiercely protected against any would-be“hackers.”

I’ve attempted to reconcile the“visionary” nature of encounters with

nonhumans described by the likes ofTerence McKenna with the decidedlyphysical episodes recounted by close-encounter witnesses: must the “aliencontact” experience be exclusively “real”or hallucinatory? Maybe not.

CHAPTER 5

Encounter with aFlower

Filmmaker Mike MacDonald reportsthe following encounter with the “other.”

It’s funny how some memories stickwith you all your life while others areforgotten, only to resurface after beingjogged back by something that happensin the present day. In the case of thisexperience, it’s one of my earliestmemories, and it has always been on mymind. I call it a memory because at theage of 47, there are very few instances inmy first few years of life that I can recallwith any clarity. Whether this memory isof a dream or an actual waking

experience, I can’t say. My intuition tellsme that it was a dream experience, butone of those life-altering, never-to-be-forgotten experiences that many of uscarry around in our conscious and sub-conscious minds for life.

My guess is this memory is fromsometime in the first four years of mylife. It’s very simple to recount, but has adeeply resonating emotional effect on mewhen I recall it. It is in full colour.

I am standing in a cave. Sitting beforeme, on a throne fashioned out of therock, is what I can only describe as avery large pansy flower. The kind offlower that looks like it has a face withlarge slanted eyes (I know, when I sawthe Communion book cover 20 years agoI almost had a cow.)

Although the flower creature did notspeak to me, I could feel that it wascommunicating to me somehow in a formof extreme condescention andintelligence. Like it was implying to methat it was in total command. Notnecessarily in a malevolent way, but in away of true authority. By my side was myfather. He was extremely upset—terrorized, actually, and possibly evenashamed. This caused me much moregrief than the “attitude” emanating fromthe flower being. I had the feeling thatthe flower being had my fathercompletely exposed in some way. I can’treally put my finger on it, but the generalfeeling I had was that my all powerfulfather, the centre of my four or five yearold life, was shaken to the core, and this

frightened me more than the flower beingitself. I will never forget this dream, northe feeling of complete helplessness thatmy father displayed. (At the time,incidentally, he was a member of theRoyal Canadian Mounted Police.)

The experience ends there. As I said, Ishall never forget it. I have mentioned itto my father, but he has no recollectionof anything like that. I wish I couldcorrectly convey the attitude (for lack ofa better term) that the Pansy flowerdisplayed; all knowing, condescending,almost cruel, completely humorless, andeven ruthless in terms of how it affectedus.

Needless to say, since then I havealways tended to look at pansies with ameasure of suspicion.

I like the shamanistic sensibility of thisencounter with the “other.” Ironically,while our conception of the alien has beensubject to endless modification by a massmedia eager to capitalize on ourfascination with the nonhuman, we rarelyencounter non-humanoid forms. Mike’sdescription, suggesting nothing less than asentient plant, recalls the beingsencountered by ethnologists whoexperiment with naturally occurringhallucinogens. (The “large slanted eyes”are an interesting twist. Could theprominent eyes now readily associatedwith the “Grays” be hardwired in thehuman brain, destined to recur regardlessof the appearance of the being looking outof them?)

Mike might be describing a brush with

what psychologist Kenneth Ring hastermed the “imaginal realm,” a statesuspended between waking consciousnessand the enigmatic turf of dreams. WilliamS. Burroughs, for instance, describedseeing green reindeer and diminutive graymen in his childhood. He later emphasizedhis concern that the decimation of theecosphere constituted a sort oflobotomization of the collectiveunconscious, strip-mining the fertile soilof Ring’s world of the imaginal as surelyas a fleet of bulldozers set loose in theAmazonian rain-forests.

The pronounced authoritarian demeanorof the flower-like entity offers somesupport for Burroughs’ intuitive sense thatnature is angry at humanity’stransgressions and more than capable of

letting its displeasure be known. It’sworth remembering that a hallmark of thearchetypal “alien abduction” is a graphicecological warning, suggesting thatperceived ETs harbor a stalwart interestin Earth’s environmental sustainability.Indeed, students of shamanism might arguethat the Grays are thought-forms generatedby the Earth itself as a means ofcommunication. And at least a few UFOresearchers have taken note of theirapparent vegetable nature; as the memeticancestors of the archetypal “little greenmen,” the Grays can be viewed as chillyavatars of our fragile biosphere—bent onrevenge, enlightenment, or perhaps acurious fusion of both.

Nor is Mike’s memory of encounteringa potent nonhuman intelligence within a

cave without precedent. Contemporary“abductees” describe their nocturnaljourneys to caverns with earthen walls,leading to the natural assumption thatthey’ve been transported to undergroundalien installations. But just asunannounced encounters with bizarrenonhuman beings are far from a modernphenomenon, rock-walled cavernspopulated by strange beings andbewildering technology enjoy a lively rolein world mythology. For example,folklorists have pointed out suggestiveparallels between “alien” dwellings andthe subterranean domain said to awaitvictims of lustful faeries (whose behavior,more often than not, mirrors that of today’sufonauts).

*

A commenter on my Posthuman Bluesblog, left the following report.

Lately I’ve been thinking about astrange encounter I had as a child thatmakes some sense to me within theframework of the cryptoterrestrialtheory. I thought you might it interesting,so here goes:

I’m guessing I was around 10 yearsold (so it was sometime in the early1990s). I was sitting with my littlebrother and three friends on a streetcorner in suburban Port Chester, NY .Summertime. Just a bunch of childrenenjoying the warm weather, doingwhatever it is children do. A man’s voicesuddenly began to speak, in clear and

polite diction, from what seemed likeimmediately in front of us. I don’t recallanything particularly strange about thisvoice, except for the fact that there didnot seem to be any person attached to it.It’s often said that children are naturallymore open-minded than adults, andtherefore more perceptive to the“supernatural.” I think that as adults weexpect to understand our surroundings.We assume that there is acomprehensible explanation forwhatever occurs. As kids, the wholeworld seems very alien. We often don’tunderstand why adults do what they do,or why nature does what it does. Sure,this disembodied voice struck me as odd,but then again so did thunder and lightningand grown-ups’ taste for beer. I don’t

remember that any of us were afraid oreven slightly uneasy.

Naturally, we asked the strangerwhere he was. He told us not to worryabout that and to not bother looking,because we wouldn’t find him. He justwanted to ask us a few questions. Nowhere’s where it all gets blurry. Hecouldn’t have talked to us for more thana few minutes, but I honestly can’tremember a single word from the rest ofthe conversation. I only have a vaguerecollection of how the tone of it all feltto me at the time. He struck me as agrown-up looking for clinicalinformation, the way a good teacher ordoctor might ask questions intelligible toa kid, without sounding patronizinglychild-like.

When it was all over, I becamedetermined to figure out the source ofthe voice. I didn’t rule out that someonewas pulling a prank on us, even thoughnone of this seemed to strike me asfunny. Like many other kids, I liked toplay with walkie-talkies. Though thevoice lacked the typical fuzziness of awalkie-talkie, I still began to wonder ifthere was some sort of device hiddensomewhere nearby. There were no sewergrates around, no parked cars, just aroad, some well-mowed lawns, andperhaps a couple small bushes. Myfriends and I went across the street andbegan rooting around every nook andcranny, but came up empty-handed.

Years later, I read Whitley Strieber’sCommunion and was immediately struck

by the similarity of an encounter hedescribed, in which he and his wife wereaddressed by a voice on the radio. Striebercould not recall any of the conversion,except for the voice saying somethinglike “I know something else about you.”I recall that line giving me goosebumpslike little else in that book. There was afamiliarity embedded in my ownencounter, which, in retrospect, freaksthe hell out of me. Did I, on some level,recognize the voice?

So what happened to us thatafternoon? Have you ever heard ofanything like this? Were we interviewedby some cryptoterrestrialanthropologist?

That the ufonauts use a form of mindcontrol is practically taken as a given by

most abduction researchers. But once weconcede that our visitors are able toinduce or dampen perception at will,where does one draw the line? Who’s tosay the bulk of abduction narratives can’tbe interpreted in an illusory context?Perhaps some incredible abductionreports, while sincere, reflect an intimatebrush with virtual reality rather thanencounters with literal extraterrestrials.

The psychedelic realm has the visualflexibility of a multimedia installation orhigh-bandwidth website, forcing me toconsider that it’s actually designed as acommunications system, a sort ofneurochemically derived “chatroom”populated by all manner of colorful“avatars.”

It’s conceivable that “trippers” can

access this interzone, even ifinadvertently. The beings seen—described similarly in UFO and drugnarratives—might be the equivalent ofneuropharmacologists and systemoperators. (Online environments likeSecond Life, while fanciful, abide bymany of the conceits and laws that governthe real world, if only for the sake ofconvenience. It’s likely that an alienintelligence versed in nonlocalcommunication would apply similarreasoning when constructing a virtualenvironment.)

If access to the shamanic realm hingeson the brain’s production of DMT, asargued by University of New Mexicopsychiatrist Richard Strassman, then the“aliens” may be attempting to promote

organic DMT production through germ-line engineering. Abductees’ frequentallusions to insects (and suspiciouslysimilar depictions offered by DMTtrippers) suggests a literal “hive mind” atwork—a concept that receivescircumstantial support from recentbreakthroughs with quantum“entanglement.” Tellingly, dialogueaboard UFOs is usually reported to betelepathic—a fact that speaks potentialvolumes about the CTs’ culture andsociety (if they have one in anydistinguishable sense). The CTs may wellhave a communications infrastructure, butof a sort we don’t recognize until we findourselves snared in its web.

CHAPTER 6

CuriousBystanders

In contemplating the nature of apparent“aliens,” I’ve assumed that the UFOintelligence adapts to fit the prevailingpsychosocial matrix, effectivelycamouflaging itself by insinuating itselfinto a given culture. But there’s theequally appealing possibility thatmanifesting in terms comprehensible towitnesses reflects the perceptual constraintsof the contact experience.

“Aliens,” whether perceived as gnomesor fairies or demons or even humans (as in

the case of the mysterious airship sightingsof the late 19th century), may be forced toappear as they do by the cultural biasesand limited expectations of the witness.Thus we have a pageant of fantastic beingsof all descriptions: robot-like monsters,winged entities such as the infamous“Mothman,” furry giants, all manner of“little men,” and, of course, the ubiquitous“Grays.” However, most if not all of theabove may share a common psychicalorigin; only by appealing to our collectiveunconscious can they take form at all. Assuch, they constitute an ongoing wakingdream; they are “true hallucinations”—quantum composites that, whileobjectively real (as revealed by physicaleffects on the environment), demand alevel of unconscious participation on

behalf of their wide-eyed spectators.Jacques Vallee conducted a noteworthy

study of reports in which UFO occupantswere seen outside their craft, usuallyengaged in such bewilderingly innocuoustasks as taking soil and plant samples. Heconcluded that, given a statisticaldistribution of apparent UFO landings,there are simply too many landings for theextraterrestrial hypothesis to remaintenable. But if in fact UFO events requirethe presence of at least one observer, thenVallee’s rogues’ gallery of “absurdhumanoids” makes more sense: Landingsaren’t as numerous as they may seembecause they only occur when witnessed. Fromthis, we can only conclude that at leastsome close encounters are staged events.

Similarly, the genetic hybridization

program supposedly conducted by Grayaliens, recounted in Budd Hopkins’Intruders and David Jacobs’ Secret Life,makes more sense when viewed as aparaphysical agenda. Abductee WhitleyStrieber has famously described theabduction experience as an attempt at“communion” between two radicallydifferent kinds of intelligence. From hisnarrative and others, it indeed seems as if“they” want or need something from us.But I doubt that that “something” is geneticmaterial in the usual sense; it seems morelikely to me that encounters with hybridchildren and distressingly intimate“exams” are attempts to encourage beliefthat Grays are flesh-and-blood ETanthropologists. Their antics, whilehorrifying, may be as bogus as the many

sightings of alien beings taking soilspecimens.

I think the “aliens” are waging theequivalent of a “psy-ops” campaign on thehuman species. It’s doubtful their ultimategoal is anything so quaint (orcomprehensible) as transgenic offspring,but neither is it necessarily malign.Simply, our “visitors” appear to bestriving to become adept at accessing ourreality, in effect becoming “more real”and thus increasingly compatible with us.We nourish them with our attention, and asthey penetrate the barrier separating themfrom consensus reality (in which thesubject of aliens and UFOs issystematically marginalized), they finallybegin to loom above the bunkers of myth—incidentally, in the case of the Grays,

becoming rather like ourselves in theprocess.

Whether they come to us from the uppertiers of John Keel’s “superspectrum” orfrom some other parallel reality, theiractivities betray an apparent need forattention to which ufology has beenessentially blind, despite case after caseof “playful” UFO behavior (especiallypronounced during aircraft encounters).Perhaps by engaging our psyche, they passthe burden of their arrival onto ourcollective shoulders.

Dreams have their own geography. Notmerely a participatory sense of place, buta palpable topology, an underlying spatialstructure that challenges dogmaticconcepts of “reality.” As I revisit thelocales in my psyche, I’m tempted to

ascribe them to genuine places only half-seen (if at all) while waking.

Our “normal” lives are flimsy,incomplete. We should fully engage thedreaming self instead of denying orderiding it; illusions are endemic toperception—sleeping, waking, orinhabiting that barely rememberedinterzone that straddles the border.

I’m drawn to the concept that theuniverse needs consciousness, either tosucceed in some “utility function” orsimply to keep itself intact. If so, could italso need directed awareness in the formof technology?

The UFO intelligence seems curiouslyout of its element, a fact that should arouseextraordinary suspicion. One would think,given the time it has had to observe us, it

should be thoroughly familiar with us andable to “pass through” without riskingcurious bystanders. But as even asummary examination of the UFOliterature demonstrates, curiousbystanders seem to be the whole point—and therein, I suspect, lies the ultimateidentity of our unlikely guests.

*

Why don’t the “aliens” make opencontact? Why do they seem content withtaunting our aircraft and haunting lonelynight roads? Why the elusiveness that’scharacterized the UFO phenomenon sincethe modern era of sightings began in thelate 1940s?

There are a multitude of reasons a

visiting civilization would refrain from“landing on the White House lawn,”foremost among them the potentiallydebilitating effect open contact mightwreak on terrestrials. History shows thatrelatively advanced sea-faring culturestopple less developed cultures, in part bycollapsing defining assumptions andrendering cultural self-hood obsolete. Ifwe’re of any research value to a visitingcivilization then interfering at the macro-sociological level might threaten todestroy thousands of years of patientwork. The paradox is that UFOs doexhibit an interest in our activities. Butit’s a cryptic, behind-the-scenes sort ofinterest: clandestine-seeming at first takebut, on closer inspection, almostalarmingly conspicuous, like a silent plea

for attention.One idea to account for this behavior is

that the UFO intelligence somehow hingeson our belief in it (a notion that assumesan esoteric origin instead of the morecommon “nuts and bolts” extraterrestrialhypothesis). In this scenario, the UFOs areengaged in an elaborate act of psychicpropaganda, preparing our collectiveunconscious for the idea of “others,” ETor otherwise. It’s well worth rememberingthat humanity’s interaction with apparentvisitors is hardly limited to alleged spacetravelers in the 20th century; JacquesVallee’s classic Passport to Magoniaoffers strong support to the (admittedlyslippery) prospect that the UFOintelligence was functioning under theguise of faerie lore in Europe centuries

before the idea of spaceflight becamefashionable.

It’s possible that UFOs would like toinitiate something like formal contact butare restrained from doing so by thephysics of perception, as Whitley Strieberhas suggested. So the pageant in our skiesmight be an ongoing indoctrination, anattempt to become more substantial (in ouruniverse, at least) so that a moremeaningful dialogue can be reached atsome indeterminate point in the future.One way of achieving this might be tocultivate a milieu of incipience, in whichnonhuman contact (or disclosure) seemsinevitable. In fact, this illusory notion ofan impending ufological “smoking gun”has left a pronounced signature on thehistory of UFO research, often forcing

investigators to take sides in a fruitless (ifcolorful) ideological battle that reducesthe UFO enigma to trite discussion ofgalactic federations and Orwelliangovernment oversight.

If UFOs are attempting to breach ouruniverse, our ingrained sense of disbeliefmight be preventing them in some arcanequantum mechanical sense. Strieber hasargued that official denial of thephenomenon is designed to thwart apotential invasion of nonhumanintelligence, in which case it seems anenduring stalemate has been reached (withoccasional power-plays made by both theUFOs and earthly officialdom). This ideais similar to the citizens of the PlanckBrane in Rudy Rucker’s science fictionepi c Frek and the Elixir. In Rucker’s

novel, the inhabitants of a paralleluniverse must accumulate a critical levelof prestige and notoriety or else cease toexist. The ruling class consists of sixindividuals who are so well-known andcasually accepted by the other PlanckBraners that they persist with theirindividuality intact while their fellowsvanish during periodic “renormalizationstorms”; only when the main charactersderide and purposefully ignore them tothey fade into the quantum background.Strieber takes a related idea and runs withit in his horror novel The ForbiddenZone, which depicts a reality-bendingalien presence set loose upon a smalltown in the wake of a quantum experimentgone awry.

The overriding theme, prevalent in

occult literature, is that our universe ispermeable and can, under specificcircumstances, provide a channel tounseen realms (an idea that’s remarkablysimilar to contemporary thought onwormhole travel). Of immediate interestis Aleister Crowley’s “Lam,” a“magickal” entity who bears an uncannyresemblance to today’s “Grays.” UnlikeLam, who functioned as a mentor andparaphysical guru, the Grays are typicallyassumed to be dispassionate ET scientists;if Crowley were practicing hisconsciousness experiments today, wouldhe be greeted by dome-headed beings inskin-tight jumpsuits? (Perhaps it pays foraliens to stay in touch with predominantmemes if it entails making a lastingimpression. The presence of awkward,

quasi-human “Men In Black,” chronicledin detail by John Keel and Jenny Randles,suggest that aliens may have alreadyinfiltrated—perhaps in order to refine theart of passing as typical Earthlings. If so,what’s the ultimate agenda?)

We’re left with a surreal residue ofencounters and sightings that describe anintelligence operating at the periphery ofhuman consciousness. Whether this is dueto deliberate intent or can be attributed toobstruction (willful or innocuous) remainsone of ufology’s most significantunanswered questions.

*

But if an alien intelligence isaccountable for even a small degree of our

collective preoccupation with the “other,”it’s conceivable that we have, in fact,established a dialogue of sorts. Maybewe’re being taught a new mythologicalsyntax so that, confronted with the specterof planetary disaster, we’ll have themeans of rising to the challenge.

I’m not suggesting we’ll be saved at thelast minute in some alien Rapture. But theUFO phenomenon’s symbolic importanceshouldn’t go unrecognized. Perhaps, asCarl Jung mused, UFOs signal a change inthe collective unconscious. The UFOintelligence might be attempting to hastenthat change, if only for ultimately selfishreasons. It might be devastatingly lonelyand need us to keep from withering awayin the long interstellar night. Or the truthcould be more immediate: just because we

might be someone else’s property, an ideaespoused by Charles Fort, doesn’t meanwe’re not valuable property.

In almost any scenario, the sort ofpeaceable contact foreseen by thecontactees of the 1950s is extraordinarilyunlikely. The evidence indicates that lifeon Earth will become increasingly severe;we may or may not survive intact. But it’sjust conceivable that someone orsomething hopes we make it.

*

If I’m right, such a postsingularindigenous intelligence would eschewformal contact for the simple reason thatsuch disclosure would destabilize us,possibly to the brink of existential

obliteration. Theorists have attacked thetrite assumptions of mainstream SETI forthe same reason. If our own history is anyexample, technologically robustcivilizations inevitably subsume lesssophisticated cultures, not merely byviolently dismantling them, but byintroducing a virulent strain of apathy.(The infamous Brookings report to NASA,recommending that the discovery ofextraterrestrial artifacts be covered up forfear of paralyzing research/developmententerprises, stands as perhaps mostexplicit elucidation of this idea.)

The UFO/”alien” phenomenondescribed by Jacques Vallee, John Keel,and Whitley Strieber is alarminglycongruent with the CTH. We appear to beinteracting with an exceptionally patient

intelligence which, despite its advantagesover terrestrial science, seems limited bya steadfast refusal to make itself widelyknown. (Whether this indicates a guidingmorality or pragmatic necessity remains tobe seen.) Contrary to mainstreamexpectations, our visitors have opted for amuch more gradual form of contact,evidenced both by the often theatricalnature of the apparent vehicles in ourskies and by the behavior of the presumedoccupants (who seem to enjoy letting usassume they hail from outer space).

I propose that this intelligence hasplayed a significant role in occasionallyhastening our species’ development aswell as keeping us in a periodic “standby”state, rendering us less likely to destroyourselves. In a way, the human legacy has

been scripted to conform to an alientemplate about which we know little ornothing. But the available historical,mythological and experiential evidencetends to support a largely benevolentraison d’etre. Perhaps we’re beinggroomed in preparation for our ownSingularity, after which the “others” couldhave no choice but to deal with us asequals.

*

If we’re dealing with aliens—regardless whether or not they originate inspace or on Earth—maybe their clumsy,oblique interactions with us can beexplained if they’re endowed withintelligence but devoid of sentience. They

could have taken an evolutionary routethat bypassed awareness entirely, or theycould have achieved a form of sentienceonly to lose it, perhaps by recklesslymerging with their machines.

“Ufonauts” are often described asbehaving in a military or insect-likemanner, even moving in lockstep. Maybethey’re interested in us because we’reaware in a way they aren’t, and they’redetermined to acquire our capacity forself-reflective thought in order tocommunicate with us. In essence, ourinteraction with the UFO intelligencecould be a dialogue with a complex butmyopic machine. Maybe “they” havenever encountered a species like us andare genuinely baffled—insofar as adistributed computer can be “baffled.”

Ardent Singularitarians willdoubtlessly point out that our brains areeffectively distributed computers, inwhich case the aliens, if they’re here,should possess sentience even ifmechanical. But a sophisticatedintelligence doesn’t necessarily need to beaware of itself to perform a task. If we’reobserving beings created by someone orsomething else, sentience might have beendeliberately excluded from theirrepertoire for fear of losing control of auseful tool.

Our visitors seem both wildlysophisticated and limitlessly stupid. Ifthey’re collectively lacking what wecommonly term “spirit,” it might bepossible to resolve this seeming paradox.

CHAPTER 7

TheSuperspectrum

Given that radiation like that used bycellphones can infringe on humanconsciousness—and I think it’s veryprobable it can—we have to question ourrole in this emerging electronic ecology. IfJohn Keel is correct, and we share theplanet with “ultraterrestrials” who occupyhigher realms of an unseen“superspectrum,” one wonders if wecould be upsetting the superspectralhierarchy by marinating our world in astew of microwaves.

Conversely, maybe the advent ofwidespread cell communication is

analogous to the role of fungi according toTerence McKenna. Instead of viewingubiquitous cell towers as intrusive andharmful, maybe we should look at them astotems through which we mightcommunicate with unseen intelligences.(I’ve always thought it interesting that somany UFO sightings have been witnessedover military installations with advancedradar technology; some alleged UFOoccupants have even ventured the idea thatradar somehow interferes with theoperation of their craft—one proposedexplanation for the Roswell incident.)

In any case, there appears to be a linkbetween artificial radiation and “alien”visitors. And since some UFOs possessdocumented microwave properties, we’releft with the possibility that we’re only

now (inadvertently) acknowledging theirarrival. What this means in the long-termis anyone’s guess. Maybe, by inundatingthe skies with our collective voice, we’reoffering the “ultraterrestrials” a sort ofTrojan Horse—a technological substratethrough which they can penetrate ourreality with unprecedented ease.

I find broadcast towers oddlyfrightening. Maybe they’re not tinfoil-hatscary, but they sound a quiet alarm. Weseldom take the time to look up andac tua l l y see these things—which isperhaps understandable, since they’reeverywhere: anonymous spurs skeweringthe clouds and filling the sky withunknown chatter.

If we’re evolving faster to meet thedemands of an increasingly compromised

planet, I suppose it’s not out of the realmof possibility that our brains are beingforced to adapt to the ubiquitouselectromagnetic fog spawned by thetelecommunications industry. Maybe someUFOs are a way our minds havedeveloped to make sense of the onslaughtof radio and microwave radiation thatpermeates modern culture. Radioinundation might be ripping holes in thecollective unconscious, leavingconspicuous voids to be filled.

Albert Budden has speculated alongsimilar lines; he describes “abductions”as the psyche’s way of maintainingidentity when faced with acute allergicdistress. I’m actually quite interested inthe esoteric neurological effects of EMexposure. One of the most original UFO

books of the last two decades is UFOs:Psychic Close Encounters: TheElectromagnetic Indictment by AlbertBudden, who hypothesizes that EM“hotspots” can result in a variety oftroubling “paranormal” experiences,including evident “hauntings” and—youguessed it—alien abduction. (It’s worthremembering that ufologist Jacques Valleehas credited genuine UFOs with emittingmicrowaves, which may play a similarhallucinogenic role in some closeencounters. And debunkers are fond ofciting the work of Michael Persinger,whose experiments with EM fields andhuman subjects suggest a link between the“sense of presence” associated withaltered states of consciousness andseismic stress.)

Close encounter witnesses almostinvariably describe electromagneticanomalies both in the presence ofUFOs/entities and in mundanesurroundings. I’m drawn to the possibilitythat some abductions are energeticintrusions of some sort, a hypothesis that“nuts and bolts” pundits are likely toderide. Perhaps instead of focusing onrecovering memories of events occludedby “missing time,” researchers shouldattempt a comprehensive electrical profileof the witness’ nervous system andvicinity.

To my knowledge, the only researcherto undertake a rigorous survey of theelectromagnetic environment’s impact onthe experiencer is Albert Budden, who hascome to accept that alien visitation and

“hauntings” alike can be attributed to EM“hotspots” interacting with the humanbrain. Budden’s model hinges on thehuman brain’s ability to conjureconvincing hallucinatory states. And whilethere’s no doubt the brain can be remotelystimulated to produce otherworldlyimagery (through both EM and chemicalmeans), laboratory tests have thus farfailed to produce anything comparable toan archetypal “abduction” experience.

This frustrating lack of repeatability ina clinical environment invites thepossibility that we’re dealing with anexternal phenomenon of considerablepower and complexity. Could we, in fact,be dealing with a form of nonhumanconsciousness that takes the form ofplasma?

*

“I sometimes see these entities duringmeditation (eyes barely open, soft focus),”writes Kartott, author of the Postreasonblog. “They stand (float) about me,seeming to modulate a field of energyaround me (I especially sense their hands,‘combing’ the energy). There alwaysseems to be one primary entity, usuallyright in my face, others are more in thebackground. I don’t get any verbalcommunication from them.”

As this description illustrates, the“Gray” archetype seems to possess theability to manifest in a “visionary”manner. If so, who’s responsible? Wecould be dealing with a hardwired

neurological phenomenon, as argued byresearchers like Michael Persinger andAlbert Budden. Conversely, recurrentimages of the Grays—in varying stages ofphysicality and in a multitude of contexts—beg the idea that they existindependently of the brain (at leasttemporarily).

The close encounter literature is rifewith accounts in which “abductees,”convinced their visitors are flesh-and-blood, encounter their assailants inapparent “out-of-body” and similarlyaltered states, suggesting that the Grays(and their kin) can maneuver in and out ofour ontological framework at will. Whatmight this say about the origin of ourvisitors (if indeed we’re dealing with anexternally imposed intelligence)?

Perhaps, instead of hailing from space,the “Grays” emanate from a much closersource. As Whitley Strieber suggests inCommunion, they could be anunacknowledged aspect of the humanpsyche and thus indistinguishable frommental aberration. As pioneeringconsciousness researcher Rick Strassmanhas shown, the aggressively psychedeliccompound DMT can produce tellinglysimilar encounters, offering the novel ideathat our brains can function as receivers orportals. (Ultimately, some of us mightserve as nothing less than transportationdevices for incorporeal intelligences,which might explain why someindividuals seem predisposed to contactand the pageantry of strangeness that oftenaccompanies it.)

*

I’m reminded of Lovelock’s GaiaHypothesis, in which the planet iseffectively a single biological entity.Maybe UFOs and their “occupants” arecast members in some vast planetarydrama with no actual role other thanperpetuating themselves. UFOs and theiraccompanying entities might besubconsciously reminding us of thepotentially apocalyptic burden we bear asan industrial species, all the whileencouraging us (via their apparenttechnological prowess) that we lessen ourenvironmental signature by migrating intospace. Such a scenario compliments the“control system” proposed by Jacques

Vallee and suggests a link with thecollective unconscious explored by Jung,most notably in Flying Saucers: AModern Myth of Things Seen in theSkies.

But where do they come from? If theUFO phenomenon is generated by Earthitself, perhaps it uses the human nervoussystem as a kind of operating system. Itsenduring physicality argues that it canmanipulate consciousness in such a waythat individuals can function as unwittingprojectors. If so, the study of UFOs mighteventually lead to a new understanding ofthe role of awareness. One day, throughcareful back-engineering of our ownminds, we might employ UFO-likeabilities through thought alone—in whichcase the UFO phenomenon risks becoming

obsolete.

*

But forget the idea of “otherdimensions” for a moment. PerhapsJacques Vallee’s proposed “psychicthermostat,” while a well-intentionedattempt to reconcile UFO observationswith their psychosocial effects, isn’tneeded to encompass the weirdness ofalien visitation. Forget, also, the idea thataliens are necessarily from space. Instead,let’s assume for adventure’s sake thatwe’re sharing the planet with a flesh-and-blood offshoot of the human species. AsI’ve tried to demonstrate, the prospectisn’t as absurd as it initially seems;indeed, I expect it will seem much less so

when we’ve learned more about ourworld and our relatively brief tenure here.(It bears mention that eminentprimatologist Jane Goodall has defendedthe scientific search for “Bigfoot,” acryptohominid commonly described asenormous. Assuming a gigantic andpurportedly foul-smelling primate cansuccessfully lay low, it may besubstantially easier for an intelligenttechnical society, with a tested capacityfor stealth and a full repertoire ofdisinformation tricks, to dodge our radar.)

Astrophysicists discern black holes—the invisible corpses of collapsed stars—by detecting their gravitational influenceon neighboring phenomena. Similarly, thesearch for extrasolar life hinges on thebelief that technological civilizations—

regardless how advanced—willnecessarily betray their existence viaelectromagnetic emissions. FreemanDyson, for instance, has suggested huntingfor alien megascale engineering bylooking for its distinctive energeticsignature.

We can apply the same basic principlesto the search for nonhuman intelligenceshere on Earth. If some UFOs are indeedthe work of an indigenous race, we oughtto be able to detect the inevitable“signature” it’s imprinted on the planet.This confirming evidence can take manyforms: anomalous fossils, genetic traces,“mystery” transmissions, and eveninexplicable artifacts.

Our technology-driven world iseffectively shrinking at a pace that

threatens to obliterate remainingwilderness areas. At the same time, wecontinue to map the continents and oceans(not to mention the surfaces of otherplanets) with ever-improving instruments.It stands to reason that the CTH istestable. In other words, no matter howaddicted to seclusion, a parallel societywill eventually betray its existence.

But maybe they don’t want to be found.Maybe they’d prefer to observe from thebalcony, unseen and unsuspected, whilewe go about our blundering affairsonstage. If so, then they’ve almostcertainly noticed the hazard we pose totheir maintained stealth. And while theymight be our technological superiors, onecouldn’t blame them for being at least alittle concerned.

Whitley Strieber has remarked that his“visitors,” the subject of the best-sellingCommunion and subsequent books thatdelve into the ufological realm,accomplish their agenda largely throughstealth and cunning; their technology, asenviable as it may be, is secondary.Strieber attributes the reduction in hisencounters with nonhumans to the fact thathe no longer resides in his isolated NewYork cabin, but in the busy community ofSan Antonio. Apparently the “visitors”(whoever they are) are daunted by theubiquity of modern civilization, able toexist among us for only limited periods—and even then assisted by considerabledisguise and technical savvy.

In many ways, this would be anappalling predicament for our hypothetical

ultraterrestrials. For most of humanhistory they would have enjoyedunimpeded dominance. Humans, without aglobal media infrastructure, would havebeen easier to fool (and perhaps toexploit) than we are now. (Or do I err onthe side of overconfidence?)

In almost any event, the “others” wouldhave been compelled to misdirect us inorder to maintain cultural coherence. Isuspect that the prevailing notion that theyhail from outer space originates from anoverarching disinformation campaign withroots that predate humanity as we know it.For millennia, we’ve interpreted themaccording to the disguises they adopt, eachtailored to mesh with the given paradigm.Even a cursory overview of worldfolklore indicates that this ability is

extraordinarily well-honed; it may be theirmost zealously guarded secret.

However, I suggest that our abrupttransformation into a global, intricatelynetworked society poses a gravechallenge to what has traditionally been aroutine effort. We may be on the thresholdof some oblique form of contact;alternatively, this contact may have begunin modern times, marked by the emergenceof the contemporary UFO phenomenon andthe equally alarming epidemic of so-called “alien abductions.”

Jacques Vallee has remarked,somewhat famously, about the possiblefutility of trying to look behind the curtain;what might we be confronted with? Giventhe opportunity, could we evencomprehend what we’re seeing?

Like the origin of the “aliens”themselves, this sense of existentialhumility may prove to be a cleverconstruct designed to limit ourperceptions.

CHAPTER 8

Water WorldI watched James Cameron’s movie The

Abyss with a true sense of wonder,realizing that while a sufficientlyadvanced technology may indeed beindistinguishable from magic, absolutestealth could remain a grave concern evenfor technologically accomplished species.The oceans are the obvious refuge for ETswho’d prefer to inhabit our planet inrelative privacy, and it’s probably nocoincidence that so many UFOs arereported near large bodies of water.

Bodies of water play a significant role

in UFO lore. Craft are seen rising fromlakes and oceans; sailors observeremarkable wheels of light rotatingbeneath the hulls of their boats—theaquatic equivalent to today’s accounts of“buzzed” airliners.

The mystery can be traced to the dawnof recognized human society. TheSumerian Oannes myth maintains thatcivilization itself was a gift from beingswho hailed from underwater. Before thedetrimental pop-culture impact of Erichvon Daniken, champion of untenable“ancient astronaut” theories, none otherthan Carl Sagan speculated that theSumerian tale might represent an actualaccount of a meeting with nonhumanintelligence.

Of course, Sagan had in mind visiting

extraterrestrials. Given the contemporaryevidence for a nonhuman intelligence onthis planet, the Oannes myth might insteadrepresent contact between two verydifferent types of terrestrials. That theSumerians’ enigmatic neighbors wereinterested in passing along the veryconcepts that would transform humans intocity-dwellers is intriguing in light ofCharles Fort’s famous contention that weare the property of an intelligence thatelects to remain unseen. Maybe, byconcentrating large numbers of humansinto unprecedentedly small enclaves, thehuman race was being made moreamenable to cryptoterrestrial surveillance.

Equally engaging is the continuedinterest cryptoterrestrials display inhuman affairs. From unsolicited health

check-ups to warnings of imminentecological cataclysm, our fellowplanetary residents appear deeplyconcerned about our plight, both as aspecies and, as some cases suggest,individuals. If our alleged “visitors”originate on some distant planet, thisobsessive and long-lived attempt to steerthe course of our psychosocial evolutioncertainly challenges modern thought onwhat “they” might be up to.

SETI theorists, for example, have citedradio communication as plausible meansby which we might be contacted byextraterrestrials. Fortunately, the prospectof interstellar travel has gained a footingamong mainstream scientists, challengingprevailing dogma that, for decades,confined hypothetical ETs to their home

planetary systems. Some astronomers haveeven hazarded ways the aliens mightbetray their existence, from scatteredmicroscopic artifacts to automatedconstruction sites in the Asteroid Belt.

Despite the inexorably warming attitudetoward ET visitation, mainstream thinkersstill prefer the image of aliens as stealthy,clinical observers. UFOs, with theirconspicuously visible antics, shatter thismodel. Many debunkers attempt,fallaciously, to dismiss the phenomenonprecisely because it fails to conform withexpectations. If ETs are cool anddetached, it doesn’t make immediate sensewhy they would have such a severe stakein our existence. If UFOs themselves seemlike chancy evidence of ET visitors, face-to-face encounters with actual occupants

—who, moreover, look not unlike us—seem exceptionally surreal.

But if we’re instead dealing withindigenous beings, it’s easier tounderstand why “aliens” might have causefor alarm. Their intervention throughouthistory indicates that they need us forreasons that are seldom forthcoming.

If cryptoterrestrials are members of ahive society with access to geneticengineering, I can’t help but wonder howthey’d go about colonizing the oceans andwhat, precisely, they might be doing there.If the Sumerian Oannes myth is a trueaccount of interspecies contact, thenperhaps they really are our benefactorsintent on steering us closer to our fullpotential. (Although some would argue,not entirely without justification, that

hunter-gatherer societies arefundamentally healthier and lessenvironmentally abusive than the urbancommunities that debuted inMesopotamia.)

The burning question, to my mind, is whyan advanced nonhuman intelligence wouldexpend considerable resources to hastenour development. Maybe they’reeffectively farmers using humans for ourgenes—a notion in keeping with the“reptilian agenda” promoted byconspiracy extremists. (The alleged aliensdescribed by Bob Lazar supposedlyviewed humans as “containers,” butwhether this term denoted DNA orsomething transcendent was neversatisfactorily explained. Whitley Strieberwould argue, compellingly, that the

“visitors” cherish us as repositories ofwhat we can only call “souls”;alternatively, Budd Hopkins would insist,perhaps just as compellingly, that we’rebeing harvested to serve a long-termhybridization program.)

When abductees question their captorsregarding their agenda, they’re usually metwith cryptic blurbs. For instance, WhitleyStrieber writes that he was told, simply,that his tormentors had a “right” to snatchhim from his bed and extract semen. (Inrecent years Strieber has publiclycompared the infamous “rectal probe” toan electrostimulator, a device used toinduce ejaculations in livestock. While theimplications are frightening, it’s at leasteasier to understand the brevity withwhich he depicted his abduction in 1987’s

Communion. Unfortunately, the ubiquitous“rectal probe” quickly cemented itself intoour cultural fabric, fueling the convictionthat Strieber’s assailants weredispassionate interstellar scientists withan inordinate interest in stool specimens.)

The many cases in which humanswitness “hybrid” beings with human andalien traits call for a reconciliation withancient contact mythology. If nonhumansare responsible, in part, for maintaining(or catalyzing) the human legacy, it wouldappear their reasons are more selfish thanaltruistic. Strangely, their desire for ourcontinued survival—if only for the sake ofour genetic material—may have played asubstantial role in helping us to avoidextinction during the Cold War, when theUFO phenomenon evolved in our skies

(much to the consternation of officialdom).The wave of sightings in 1947, forexample, seems calculated to appeal to thecollective unconscious in ways deftlyexplored in Carl Jung’s Flying Saucers.

Later sighting “flaps” possessed thesame sense of theater, eventually leadingFrench astrophysicist Jacques Vallee tosuggest that we were in the grips of anexistential control system. Well aware ofthe ETH’s gnawing limitations, Valleepostulated a “multiverse” in which thecontrolling intelligence originated in aparallel reality. This did away with theneed for ET visitors and helped explainthe seeming absurdity of close encountersin the 1960s, when the “aliens” wereregularly sighted miming the exploits ofour own Apollo astronauts. It also offered

a new way to address the folkloric themeof nonhuman contact that prevails indisparate cultures, from the Irish FaerieFaith to the Ant People of the Hopi.

According to Vallee and John Keel, theUFO/contact phenomenon was necessarilyduplicitous, adept at exploiting thewitness’s belief system in order to appearcomprehensible. In Vallee’s view, theUFO intelligence is quite real andmanifests itself in order to ensure weconform to some inexplicable ideal—butthe “spacecraft,” regardless of physicalevidence, are ultimately illusions (albeitstudiously crafted).

In contrast, the hypothesis put forth hereargues that some UFOs are in fact realvehicles. But we’re not under siege byanthropomorphic ETs or “goblins from

hyperspace”; the beings behind the curtainare eminently tangible. They insinuatethemselves into our ontological contextnot to confuse us but to camouflagethemselves. The UFO spectacle takes onthe flavor of myth because it wants to bediscounted. At the same time, knowing thattheir activities are bound to be seen atleast occasionally, the occupantsdeliberately infuse their appearance withwhat we might expect of genuineextraterrestrial travelers.

It’s a formidable disguise—but it canbe pierced.

CHAPTER 9

UndergroundThe subterranean connection isn’t

limited to sightings of unknown objectsemerging from bodies of water; it seemsto play a critical—perhaps central—rolein the testimony of many abductees, whodescribe finding themselves transportedinto apparent caverns teeming with alienactivity.

One of the first contemporary abducteesto address seemingly below-groundstructures was Betty Andreasson, whosestory has been patiently chronicled inseveral volumes by investigator RaymondFowler. Andreasson’s experiences withapparent ETs is one of the mostmetaphysically charged abduction

narratives on record, filled with marvelsthat seem to have no purpose other than toelicit emotional reactions from thewitness. Despite Fowler’s diligence as areporter, he follows the conventionalwisdom, concluding that Andreasson hasbeen the subject of decades-longextraterrestrial interference.

But given the aliens’ obvious penchantfor elaborate visual metaphor and specialeffects trickery, it’s unclear why Fowler(and like-minded researchers) invokestar-hopping visitors. The abductionexperience is far more ambiguous. Uponclose inspection, the perceived need forETs withers, replaced by a thicket ofunwelcome questions. The abductionphenomenon thus resolutely denies itself;it is up to us whether to accept this as a

deliberate challenge on behalf of thecontrolling intelligence or to abide by itslimitations.

*

Cryptoterrestrial lore is replete withallusions to underground habitats,subterranean labyrinths navigable only toan enlightened few, and even modern-daybelow-ground facilities staffed, in part, bygovernment operatives. From RichardShaver’s fancifully paranoid tales of the“Deros” to Bob Lazar’s depiction of S-4(allegedly a supersecret base a stone’sthrow away from Area 51), the “alien”meme challenges us with the prospect thatour world is separated from the other bythe merest of partitions . . . and that the

CTs are almost as comfortable in ourbedrooms and on our roadsides as theyare in their own realm.

The image of a “Hollow Earth”populated by beings remarkably likeourselves is by no means new, yet themodern UFO phenomenon has infused itwith a newly conspiratorial vigor. Storiesof alien bases below the unassuminglybleak surface of the American Southwestsurfaced in the wake of the MJ-12controversy, carving the mythos intoirresistible new shapes. In Revelations,Jacques Vallee recounts a memorableexchange with the late Bill Cooper andLinda Moulton Howe. Told matter-of-factly about the existence of a sprawlingsubterranean base near Dulce, NewMexico, Vallee asked his hosts where the

presumed aliens disposed of their garbage—a sensible question if one assumes thatthe “Grays” in question are physicalbeings burdened with correspondingphysical requirements.

Vallee’s question is of obviousimportance to the cryptoterrestrial inquiry.If we really are sharing the planet with a“parallel” species, searching forunderground installations becomesimperative for any objective investigation.Our failure to find any blatant “cities”beneath the planet’s surface invites manyquestions. Could the CTs have colonizedour oceans, potentially explainingcenturies of bizarre aquatic sightings?Have they intermingled to the point wherethey’re effectively indistinguishable fromus? (And, if so, how might such a

scattered population summon theresources to stage UFO events?)

Finally, we’re forced to consider that atleast some CTs have achieved genuinespace travel, throwing our definitionalframework into havoc. Space-based CTswouldn’t be extraterrestrials in the senseargued by ufological pundits, but theywould be something engagingly “other,”even if the difference separating themfrom their Earth-bound peers is assubstantial as that distinguishingastronauts from humans of more mundaneprofessions.

Still, the prospect of an undergroundorigin beckons with the inexorable logicthat colors our most treasuredcontemporary myths. Given our yawningignorance of our own planet—especially

its oceans, which remain stubbornlymysterious—it remains worthy ofconsideration. From the lusty politics ofMount Olympus to Shaver’s pulpcosmology (complete with telepathicharassment and other ingredients laterfound in “serious” UFO abductionliterature), even a cursory assessment ofsubterranean mythology indicates anonhuman presence of surprisingly humandimensions.

This striking familiarity—so unlikely inthe case of genuine extraterrestrial contact—meshes with modern occupant reports,which typically depict humanoid beingsseen in the context of extraordinarytechnology. Villas-Boas had sex with adiminutive female who, while strangelymannered, can hardly be termed “alien.”

The alarming fact that intercourse waspossible at all smacks of an encounterbetween two human beings—anobservation routinely dismissed byproponents of the ExtraterrestrialHypothesis, who seem inordinatelyenamored of Villas-Boas’ own convictionthat he had been used as breeding stockfor a race of apparent space people.

The beings encountered by Betty andBarney Hill seem at least as human whenaddressed safely outside the confines ofETH dogma; even Betty’s dialogue withthe “leader” has the nuanced, banteringquality of two strangers attempting tocome to grips with a mutual predicament.Indeed, the beings’ puzzlement whenconfronted with dentures tends to argue infavor of the CTH. We might reasonably

expect bona fide ET anthropologists to setaside the minor mystery of artificial teethwith clinical detachment; instead, Betty’sability to note her abductors’ astonishment(feigned or genuine) detracts from theETH by indicating a suspiciously humanrapport.

*

Since I began writing about indigenousaliens in early 2006, readers have pointedout parallels with similar esoteric theories(usually involving interdimensional travelof some sort). To be fair, thecryptoterrestrial prospect isn’t as new asit might seem to readers new to forteana.This was struck home upon encounteringthe work of William Michael Mott, a

researcher enamored of mythological talesof lost civilizations and undergroundhabitats. His book Caverns, Cauldrons,And Concealed Creatures suggests thatthere is very strong circumstantialevidence—based on folklore, mythology,religion, archeology, geology, history andalso on eyewitness and anecdotal accounts— that indicates that we have alwaysshared our planet with one or more hiddencivilizations of an advanced nature, whichare generally inimical, parasitical, orindifferent to humanity.

Is it feasible that the alleged aliens thatoccupy historical and contemporarymythology are flesh-and-blood human-likecreatures that live right here on Earth? Notanother version of Earth in some parallelCosmos, but our Earth.

A lynchpin of the CTH is that at leastsome of the more remarkable abilitiesdisplayed by reported aliens are in factsubterfuge—immersive fictional scenariosstaged to convince us we must be dealingwith beings from another star system.Vallee and Keel have, of course, arguedmuch the same thing. But both havemaintained (unnecessarily, in my opinion)that the beings must hail from somewhereelse—not outer space, but an unseen realmthat makes the outer space option seemalmost preferable.

Needless to say, today’s ufologicalpundits have decided to stick with theETH. Sure, it’s weird and by no meansoffers a holistic understanding of thephenomenon it purports to explain, but atleast it makes sense in light of our own

technological trajectory. After all, we’vevisited space (albeit briefly); the ETH hasthe overall appearance of a logicalextrapolation.

The CTH is a synthesis. In keeping withthe “nuts and bolts” tradition, itincorporates what we know about ourplanet and its biology and arrives at aprospective anthropology of the “other.” Iteschews interstellar travel in favor ofbeings that may not be nearly as alien aswe’ve been conditioned to expect—by themedia and (as I argue) by the UFOintelligence itself.

The Cryptoterrestrial Hypothesis hasmet with mixed reactions. Some Forteansseem to think I’m onto something. MostUFO researchers are, at best, extremelyskeptical.

Others think I’m parroting John Keel’s“superspectrum,” a variation on the“parallel worlds” theme that in turn sharesmemes with Jacques Vallee’s“multiverse.” Both ideas suggest that wesomehow occupy dimensional space withour “alien” visitors, doing away with theneed for extraterrestrial spacecraft whilehelping explain the sense of absurdity thataccompanies many UFO and occupantsightings.

Keel and Vallee have both venturedessentially “occult” ideas in cosmologicalterms; both the “superspectrum” and the“multiverse” require a revision of ourunderstanding of the way reality itselfworks. But the CryptoterrestrialHypothesis is grounded in a more familiarcontext; I’m not suggesting unseen

dimensions or the need for ufonauts to“downshift” to our level ourconsciousness. And while I can’tautomatically exclude the UFOphenomenon’s “paranormal” aspects, Ican attempt to explain them intechnological terms. (For example, I seeno damning theoretical reason why“telepathy” and “dematerialization” can’tultimately be explained by appealing tocybernetics, nanotechnology, and otherfields generally excluded from ufologicaldiscourse.)

Ironically enough, the CTH manages toalienate champions of the ETH and thosewho support a more esoteric,“interdimensional” explanation. It offersno clearcut reconciliation. It does,however, wield explanatory potential

lacking in both camps.

*

One question that hasn’t escaped me ishow, if we’re sharing the planet withindigenous “aliens,” the worsening of thebiosphere will impact any potentialrelationship with our secretive neighbors.If they’re physical, as I think they are, theystand to suffer greatly if (for example) ahuman-induced climate disaster sets theAmazon rainforest ablaze . . . or do they?

Perhaps the cryptoterrestrials havetaken precautionary measures. Persistentreports of underground bases raise theadmittedly alarming possibility that theCTs are subterranean. Even descriptionsof the beings themselves almost invariably

include reference to large eyes—whichproponents of the ExtraterrestrialHypothesis interpret as an evolutionaryadvantage for life on planets withdiminished sunlight. But large eyes wouldbe equally useful for beings acclimated totunnels and caverns. Maybe the CTs,having constructed effective “bunkers,”are content to let humans continue in theirheedless destruction of the planet.

But then there are the scenes of globalcataclysm shown to abductees. Someresearchers are understandably wary ofviewing these as literal forecasts of thefuture and see them instead as educationaldemonstrations. If so, it’s plausible thatthe CTs are attempting to hastenecological awareness—and in the processgiving away a grave secret: that they

aren’t the sagely, omniscient beings whoserole they so often adopt. Theirtechnological wizardry might not be akinto magic. They might actually need us tokeep Earth’s environment sustainable justas they may need us for our genes—andlikely for the same ultimate reason: thecultivation of an ever-adaptive racewhose abilities are beyond our own yetperfectly fallible.

Gray aliens on the brain? That’s likelywhat you’ll get.

That’s not to say the Grays are the onlycomprehensible form instigated by “faeryenergy”—only that the ambientintelligence is quick to attach itself towhatever archetype fits the bill at anygiven moment. Visions of dead people,religious epiphanies, and poltergeist

phenomena are equally possibleoutcomes.

But the intelligence behind the facademight not be native to our planet; maybe we’redealing with a psychological symbiotethat’s been re-engineering the noospherefor hundreds of thousands of years, layinggroundwork for a project that’s only knowbeginning to reveal itself . . .

*

While I can readily imagine asubterranean civilization of nonhumans, Ifind the idea that intelligent beings couldevolve there unlikely. Secluding themselvesin underground “bases” might be arelatively recent event, timed to avoid amutually catastrophic run-in with Homo

sapiens.Caverns and tunnels repeatedly crop up

in the alien contact literature. Witnessessometimes describe lavish below-groundinstallations teeming with beings that mayor may not be related to humans. This iscertainly compatible with the idea that our“visitors” have been here at least as longas recorded history, spared the toxicexcesses of known civilization. In effect,they could inhabit an immense falloutshelter, having foreseen our own demiseand taken elaborate precautions.

The apparent need for genetic materialmight indicate the creation of an interim“occupying force” of passable hybrids, ascenario explored in David Jacobs’ TheThreat.

The CTH doesn’t necessarily entail a

global civilization of nonhumans. In fact, Ifind the possibility that thecryptoterrestrials have managed to remainsocially intact throughout the millenniaespecially tenuous. Witness reports andcommon sense alike point toward a morelikely scenario: that the CTs are wildlyvariant, at different levels ofsophistication. While in possession ofremarkable abilities—not the least ofwhich is the capacity for stealth—someCT communities might even qualify as“primitive” in some respects.

Some CTs appear eminentlycomfortable among technologies that,historically, seem just beyond the humanstate-of-the-art. The pilots of the “mysteryairships” of the 1890s, for example,seemed to have anticipated our own

dominion of the air at least as capably asJules Verne. Betty Hill’s eerily accuratedescription of amniocentesis has beencited as another case of “alien”technology seen in action before itswidespread implementation in the humanrealm. Again, this isn’t what we wouldexpect of an arbitrarily capableextraterrestrial civilization. Rather, itsuggests a technology surprisingly like ourown, another indication that the beings’casual allusions to outer space should betaken with a dose of healthy skepticism.(Although we shouldn’t presume that someCTs haven’t succeeded in gaining afoothold in space, making them a novelkind of ET. Maybe the term “post-terrestrial” best describes this offshoot.)

Unfortunately, reports of

technologically savvy entities have all-buteclipsed equally credible reports of lesssophisticated beings. After all, advancedbeings promise a welcoming future, ifonly indirectly. If we should detect agenuine extraterrestrial civilization,whether through an instrumented searchlike SETI or via direct visitation, hopesfor our own continued existence stand toreap enormous rewards. Consequently, weyearn for “others” who are both wiser andmore capable.

The attractive human-like “aliens” whocontacted the likes of George Adamskiand Howard Menger in the middle of the20th century were hailed as veritablemessiahs, their disdain for reckless atomicexperimentation reiterated in the fiction ofthe day. To a somewhat lesser extent,

today’s Grays—though harsher and morepragmatic than their glamorouspredecessors—convey the same message,exposing their subjects to scenes thatappear to predict impending apocalypse.

In a world suffering from pronouncedgreenhouse effects and record-breakingextinctions, these images couldn’t come ata more opportune time. Either the CTs arestudiously exploiting our deepest fears aspart of some far-ranging psychologicalexperiment or their concerns are quitereal. But is it our world they care about ortheir own? The existence of “primitive”CT communities leaves us no choice butto willfully deflate our confidence in theExtraterrestrial Hypothesis—especiallywhen the gross resemblances of thealleged ETs to humans are so pronounced.

For example, I have a reliable first-hand report of “little people” at large inthe American Northwest. My sourceencountered a small congregation of thesebeings in a wooded area. Human-like inall essential respects, the beings werenevertheless small, like normal people inminiature. Although the encounter wasbrief, my source was able to glean someimportant information. The “little people”claimed to predate known North Americancultures and possessed their ownlanguage. As in so many other accounts ofmeetings with ufonauts or “paranormal”entities, they appeared Asian, againinviting speculation that they originatefrom a “lost” community that has opted fora peripheral role, effectively hidden fromthe mainstream.

According to the beings’ spokesman,they remain hidden largely by virtue of ournarrow perceptual focus, even able topass among us disguised as children.Supposedly they lead an almost hobo-likeexistence, without recourse to the sort oftechnology associated with UFOs.

While this all sounds innocuous enough,my source qualified his story by statingthat he felt that his meeting had beenarranged not so much for his benefit as fortheirs—an unsettling idea that brings tomind a surveillance program of potentiallyepic scope. Abductees sometimes reportvisits by curious human-seeminginterlopers, or even symptoms consistentwith electronic eavesdropping (up to andincluding so-called “implants,” but just asoften strange hissing on the telephone or

the sudden onset of “electrosensitivity,”rendering witnesses unable to operatedelicate electronics). One abductee Iknow is plagued by seemingly sourcelessbeeping—a phenomenon encountered asearly as the famous Hill abduction.

If I’m correct and “down to Earth”cryptoterrestrials and “ETs” are aspectsof the same phenomenon, we shouldexpect certain parallels. Moreover, weshould never believe what the others tellus without taking into account theirobvious need for secrecy. One may arguethat the mere fact that they initiate opencontact with humans at all reeks ofmisdirection, and perhaps that’s the point.But they could just as easily genuinelyneed a network of human contacts, afoothold in our world to fall back on in

times of crisis.If nomadic CTs are forced to adopt a

marginal role in our world, it’s unlikelythey have easy access to thecommunications infrastructure we take forgranted; maybe it’s no coincidence that mysource is a computer programmer. Or thetruth could be markedly lessconspiratorial. Maybe they simply crave asympathetic ear. And if they cansuccessfully masquerade as children andhomeless people, why exclude theoccasional “pop-in” visit?

CHAPTER 10

Among UsI’m drawn to first-person stories of

perceived encounters with nonhumans.Among them, I found this recollection byKartott especially notable:

… when I was 17, I was working in asmall convenience store, when a“woman” came in to buy cigarettes. Atfirst I didn’t pay any attention to heruntil I saw her hand (when she handedme the money)—it was not like a normalhuman hand. This startled me so I lookedup and saw a very pale entity, wearing athin black coat (like a rain coat) with

collar turned up to cover her neck, aheavy long haired wig, and very largeblack glasses. This did not entirely hideher strange face: a very pointed chin,scant lip and nose. She did not speak.Took her cigarettes and left! I was kindastunned. Oddly I cannot remember thedetails of her hand (though it was thefirst thing I noticed). Nor do I think sheleft in a car which was odd since mostpatrons drove up the store (it wassomewhat isolated).

Kartott provided more details of thecigarette lady in a later post:

….whether this entity is a “gray” or a“hybrid,” I can only guess. I have neverseen what is described as a classic grayalien. Perhaps “hybrid” is most fittingsimply because there seems to be some

variety of attributes associated with thisgeneral category; i.e. that do not fitperfectly with the classic gray alien type(size of head being foremost).

Some details that I do recall with someclarity:

First, her skin: it was very pale, whitewith an almost bluish-gray tint to it, andof an unusually smooth texture. I havenever seen anything like it before orsince. I had previously seen an albinoperson; it was nothing like that; i.e., herskin was not UN-pigmented though therewas an almost translucent quality to it.

Second, her facial features: Though Icould not see her eyes due to the largeJackie-O style sunglasses she wore,other aspects were evident: an unusuallylong pointy chin. Exaggerated

cheekbones out of proportion to the restof the face. Practically no lips, onlyenough to discern that there was anymouth. A nose that was almost not there:there was very little structure to it, asmall bridge area, and some structurearound the nostrils, but not much.

Finally, her neck: though her coatcollar was turned up, I could see some ofthe neck which was oddly thin.

The wig (obviously such: a long thickdishwater blonde mane made of cheapimitation hair easily obtainable at a k-mart in those days) seemed placed tohide other features of the head, so Icannot comment on these (ears, shape ofhead).

It puzzles me why I cannot recall herhand. Perhaps because it was what most

startled me at first. The only thing I canrelate to this lack of recall to is a nastycar accident I had years later:afterwards I completely blanked out thememory of the worst part of the accident(the part when it was occurring). I askedmy doctor about this and was told that itwas not uncommon for the human brainto “forget” traumatic or difficult events.I can only surmise the initial part of theencounter with the cigarette lady fallsinto this category.

There were no other people in thestore. I was alone. It was afternoon. Theyear of this encounter was 1974, possibly1975 (I worked both summers betweenhigh school and college, and between my1st and 2nd years of college); but mostlikely 1974. The location was an area

south of St. Louis, Missouri. I felt nolingering psychological effect from thisencounter that I am aware of, other thanextreme puzzlement (and the blockedmemory of her hand). As to whether thischanged me, I don’t know

Consciously or not, Kartott isdescribing a being strikingly similar to thewoman supposedly encountered byabductee Antonio Villas Boas. Indeed, thepointed chin, exaggerated cheekbones andvestigial nose and mouth are commonlyreported characteristics of ostensibly“alien” entities and crop up withcompelling frequency in the UFOliterature. The visage has becomesynonymous with that of the “Gray,” acommonly portrayed UFO occupant typewith massive black eyes and fetal

characteristics. (The Grays are oftendescribed as sexless or even robotic,stirring discussion that they’re in factbiological robots or even geneticallyatrophied human time-travelers from ourown ecologically impoverished future.)

Although the being described by VillasBoas is perhaps the most obvious exampleof an apparently alien woman, one has tolook no further than the cover of WhitleyStrieber’s iconic 1987 best-sellerCommunion for another. (Often assumedto depict a male extraterrestrial, the text ofCommunion and subsequent books byStrieber emphasizes that the being on thebook’s cover is female.)

In a disquieting twist, researchers havenoted a conspicuous resemblance betweent h e Communion alien and “Lam,” the

“magickal” entity allegedly summoned bycontroversial occultist Aleister Crowley.Like Strieber’s female contact and VillasBoas’ seductress, Lam’s portraitemphasizes a memorably tapered facewith dramatically pointed chin andminimal nose and mouth, suggesting acommon origin. (At least some of theinfamous “Men In Black” would alsoseem to fit the mold.)

Kartott’s “cigarette lady” seems to fitthe pattern. Even the purchase ofcigarettes—however seeminglypreposterous—is in keeping with reportsby self-proclaimed abductees, who havedescribed the smell of cigarette smoke inthe context of their encounters. (Thedistinctively repellent odor of sulfur is amore common variant, with both

mythological and folkloric antecedents.)I propose—tentatively—that the beings

featured in this encounter are “alien” onlyin the sense that they seem exceedinglystrange to us. Their predominantlyhumanoid manner and ability to function in“normal” human reality—if fleetingly—argue that they’re denizens of our ownplanet. Perhaps they’re materializations ofthe sort postulated by John Keel in suchbooks as The Mothman Prophecies andThe Eighth Tower.

Of course, the unmistakably elfinqualities described by UFO witnessessuggest Jacques Vallee’s heretical notionof a “multiverse” inhabited by all mannerof humanoid intelligences, a hypothesisthat begs a scientific analysis of unlikely“contact” reports attributed to indigenous

beings such as fairies.Alternatively, liminal beings like

Kartott’s cigarette woman might representa race of human-alien “hybrids,” asargued by Budd Hopkins and DavidJacobs. Apparently unable to pass amongus for great lengths of time, the hybrids’overseers might be content to allow theircreations to practice certain basic socialskills in a relatively unbounded setting.

Of course, the answer could be a fusionof any of the above possibilities . . . or wecould be dealing with a phenomenongenerated at least partly by the psyche.The supposed aliens that witnesses seewithin and outside of UFOs might beexamples of what Dr. John Mack termed“reified metaphor”—a physical intrusionof repressed archetypal forces. If so, it’s

all-too-tempting to speculate that thedaimonic reality traditionally accessed byshamanic cultures has begun to spill overinto waking consciousness, manifesting asa veritable onslaught of beings quietlyseeking to reassert their influence.

In a mechanistic society, the “Other”might find itself faced with extinction;violations of restricted airspace and face-to-face encounters with unsuspectingobservers could amount to a kind ofexistential assertion, begging thepossibility that our capacity for belief issomehow integral to our visitors’ reality .. . if, indeed, “visitors” is the proper term.

*

I n Transformation, Whitley Strieber’s

follow-up to his best-selling Communion,he relates an unusual encounter betweenBruce Lee, a colleague in the publishingbusiness, and two “people” with theirfaces obscured by scarves, hats, andsunglasses.

The beings, short in stature, wererapidly thumbing through copies ofCommunion and commenting on it.Intrigued, Lee asked them what theythought of the book, which had just hitbookshelves. Only then did he notice that,despite attempts to conceal their features,they appeared not unlike the iconic “Gray”featured on Communion’s cover.

I once asked Strieber about this incidentin an online chat, curious if the beings Leehad supposedly seen were big-eyed Graysor more human-like, perhaps fitting the

general description of “hybrids.” Strieberinsisted the people in the bookstore wereidentical to the creature on the cover ofCommunion; further, he was convincedLee had told him the truth. Strieber addedthat he had personally seen human-lookingbeings working with the Grays, but didn’telaborate. Given his more recent musingson the nature of the abduction experience,one is left to wonder if the humans seen inthe midst of apparent nonhumans arethemselves alien in some crucial respect—or else nonhuman beings inexceptionally clever disguises.

Of course, many dismiss Strieber. Someof his assertions, while governed by acurious internal logic, seem too outlandish—or simply too frightening—toconscience. But similar episodes have

been recounted by others. Taken together,these accounts paint a bizarre picture of“aliens” in our midst—somepredominantly humanoid in appearance,others conforming to the “Gray”archetype.

Regularly described as frail or evensickly, these little-remarked visitors playa quiet but important role in thecryptoterrestrial agenda. They behaveskittishly, as if painfully aware of thepossibility of detection. Paradoxically,they can also act with surprisingconfidence, establishing a deep rapportwith “normal” humans . . . anddisappearing just as mysteriously. Like thefairies of Celtic mythology, these“emissaries” are enticingly liminal, atonce worldly and wary. While they seem

entirely physical, their home turf seems tobe a Keelian interzone, as if their passportto our domain forever hovers on the vergeof expiration.

Despite differences in appearance,commonly reported traits suggest acommon origin. Cryptoterrestrials, like theGrays typically encountered in alteredstates or aboard evident vehicles, tend tohave long fingers, pointed chins and largeheads. Their complexion, usually pale orashen, has also been described as olive oreven sun-burned. Perhaps mostrevealingly, their eyes are almost alwaysdescribed as slanted and Asian-like,begging the possibility that, in an abstruseway, they are Asian, perhaps descendantsof some lost colony that diverged from thegenetic mainstream tens of thousands of

years ago. Ever-reclusive, theirsuccessors may thrive below-ground orbeneath bodies of water. (Geologistssometimes complain, with justifiedexasperation, that we know more about thesurface of the Moon than the topology ofour home planet.)

Incidentally, the “little people” offolklore are regularly sighted emergingfrom underground communities—a threadthat we rediscover among recent accountsof alien abduction and even the enduringconspiracy lore of the AmericanSouthwest, where spindly beings fromZeta Reticuli are said to have establishedsubterranean cities in conjunction withhuman scientists.

Visitation from the sky is at least ascommon. In The Invisible College,

Jacques Vallee points out that all knowncreation myths involve beings from above.Anthropologists attribute this to our innatefascination with the Cosmos just aboveour heads, which plays such a pivotal rolein the formation and sustained existence ofour communities. But it’s just as possiblethat some of these mythical accounts stemfrom actual encounters with airborne“gods,” posing the notion that thecryptoterrestrials, despite their maddeningambiguity and disciplined stealth, mayview themselves as our benefactors.

Indeed, ancient accounts of nonhumanintervention throw the modern spectacleof UFO abductions and sightings ofhumanoids into a disorienting light; whileto all appearances it’s the “others” in direneed of us, there’s at least some reason to

think we owe our existence to them. Aswe continue to sort through the subterfugeand misdirection, we find ourselves in atroublingly Escher-like territory, our owngenetic legacy abruptly lost in the depths.

We find ourselves treading anexistential ledge, wondering what role weultimately play. The trite dichotomy of“humans” and “aliens” is revealed asinadequate; the truth is metamorphic, andso ancient that our co-existence withindigenous humanoids has become oddlyinvisible, a secret kept just out ofconscious reach.

*

If the cryptoterrestrials are real andindeed “living among us” (or at least

secluded in enclaves), they must have asense of ethics, a guiding morality. Or atleast it’s comforting to think so.

The simple fact that they haven’t takenover the planet could be proof that theyharbor no genocidal grudge. But it couldjust as easily mean that they need us,either for our genes or for esotericreasons. But this kicks up its own share ofquestions.

If they’re underpopulated and needhumans to refresh their gene-pool,forsaking secrecy and claiming the planeton their own terms would allow theirpopulation to expand to viableproportions. We’d no longer be needed.So why are we allowed to continue toexist? By almost any ecological standard,we’re terrible neighbors. Do they feel

sorry for us? Are they convinced that,through careful psychological engineering,they can improve our “relationship”(albeit without our consent), thus steeringthe biosphere from the brink of collapse?

Or are they even now eyeing ourendeavors with mounting alarm andsuspicion? Will there ever come a pointthat brings the CTs out of hiding—if onlyto turn the tables on their uneasy trucewith our civilization?

Perhaps they’d like to but can’t. Theevidence suggests they’re accomplishedillusionists and insidiously cleverstrategists endowed with abilities onceascribed to the domain of magic. But theygive little indication of violence, at leastin a military sense. Perhaps theirtechnology, remarkable as it is, isn’t

conducive to the kind of effort required toinvade and conquer; indeed, with ournuclear missiles and arsenal of “blackops” aircraft, we might pose aconsiderable threat to them. Like thevampires in Whitley Strieber’s TheHunger, the CTs might be a race indecline. Stealth, it seems, comes with aprice: the lack of infrastructure we takefor granted.

Maybe the CTs have no real plans forovert colonization. We tend to project ourown tendencies onto “aliens”; if we werein their place, we’d inevitably feelsubjugated, even claustrophobic.Inevitably, at least some of us wouldchoose to fight back, even if our effortswere desperate and feeble. But the CTsremain strangely pacifist. Either they

really are at the mercy of our omnipresentpostindustrial society or they have plansin store that we have yet to discern.

In The Threat, David Jacobs argues thatalien hybrids will ultimately reign, withhumans reduced to a secondary role. Onecould reasonably argue that the CTs arewaging a long-term war of attrition,slowly but methodically creating an armyof hybrids to inherit and transform thehuman world. But folkloric evidence begsus to look in other directions. If “they”merely wanted the planet they could havetaken it from us long ago, before theinvention of doomsday weapons andmodern surveillance technology. Instead,they seem to have left us to take our ownroute—or at least leave us with thisimpression.

Given that they’re content to remainmarginal, we must consider that we’remore than a reserve of DNA. The CTsmust have other, less pragmatic, motives.Witness accounts offer tantalizing hintsthat the CTs are at least as intrigued byour minds as they are dependent on ourgenes. If so, we could be more than wethink we are.

The CTs could be reaping an invisibleharvest grown in the fertile soil of Minditself. Limited to short-term agendas andmaterialistic obsessions, we wouldn’tnecessarily notice. But if the CTs’penchant for psychodrama persists throughthe next century—and so far it shows nosigns of stopping—we just might catch amore expansive look at their goals.

But will we like what we see?

CHAPTER 11

Final ThoughtsGreg Bishop posits that brushes with

the paranormal, just like encounters withgenuine art, convey meaning by remainingpurposefully elusive. My own creativepowers (such as they are) suffer when I tryto adhere to a template, which is one ofthe reasons I try to keep away fromwriting “how-to” texts, as seductive assome of them are. But when I relax myguard—never an easy trick—I find thatmeaning and structure often arise as if oftheir own volition.

The field of ufology suffers from a

related problem, the toxic assumption thatUFOs and other elements of forteana mustnecessarily yield to a single consciouslyderived explanation—whether thehallowed Extraterrestrial Hypothesis orsomething else.

I’d argue that Budd Hopkins’ insistencethat the small, white-skinned entities areliteral “aliens” is as lamentably simple-minded as Susan Clancy’s own wholesaleignorance of the abduction enigma asportrayed in her book, Abducted: HowPeople Come to Believe They WereKidnapped by Aliens. “Aliens injumpsuits” may simply be how the modernWestern mind reacts to a “reality-transforming” stimulus.

In a similar manner, explaining thebeings as ancestral ghosts could be

equally valid. In each case, the mindaccesses a comprehensible psychicvocabulary to describe an event that maydefy empirical analysis.

This isn’t to say Hopkins is wrong;perhaps we really are dealing with more-or-less comprehensible biped aliens withwhite skin and a penchant for shinyjumpsuits. But the UFO encounterevidence has roots that go far deeper thanthe contemporary infatuation with“abductions.” When the phenomenon isexamined historically, it seems morelikely that the “aliens” insinuatethemselves into a given cultural matrix byappealing to ready-made mythologicalconstructs—thus the near-endlessprocession of elves, dwarves, fairies, andsaucer-pilots that haunt our attempts to

discern the “other.”I think someone is here. But to ascribe

nonhuman visitation to Hopkins’ meddlingintruders is to play into a long-standingperceptual trap . . . and the toll might notbe merely intellectual.

If we’re dealing with a truly alienintelligence, there’s no promise that itsthinking will be linear. Indeed, its inherentweirdness might serve as an appeal to anaspect of the psyche we’ve allowed toatrophy. It might be trying to rouse us fromour stupor, in which case it’s tempting towonder if the supposed ETs are literallyus in some arcane sense.

*

I alternate between grave misanthropy

and chomping-at-the-bit optimism. If thehuman species is destined to fail—wipedout by its own toxic excesses orslaughtered by warfare—I see no realpoint in continuing; an extraterrestrialbiologist could argue that we’re simplytaking up time in which the planet couldexcrete a new biosphere from which amore promising intelligence might arise.

But of course we don’t know wherewe’re headed. So we make educatedforecasts and hope that our warnings areheeded before it’s too late. All too oftenthis seems like an exercise in futility.Sometimes I fear that we’ve reached acritical threshold, that the humanpopulation will be decimated before wecan ensure a meaningful, abundant worldfor ourselves and our descendants (who

may well not be human in thecontemporary sense). For Earth and itsteeming billions of passengers, the end isalways nigh; for too long we’ve relied onblind luck and narrow escapes. Despitebrushes with cataclysm and the rigors ofevolution, we’ve survived—but onlybarely.

Although I harbor serious reservationsabout humanity’s ability to make theevolutionary cut, I’m not without hope. Isense great things in the making. I enjoyexperiencing this dire, ever-acceleratingpoint in our species’ history; our potentialas genuine cosmic citizens challenges theimagination and stretches conceptualboundaries to dizzy extremes.

I’m willing to embrace transcendenceor endure extinction. I must perpetually

concede either possibility, no matter howdramatically different, regardless of howexciting or dismal. I walk a fineexistential edge, fearing and cherishing,enlivened by a vertiginous sense ofastonishment and horror.

AfterwordMac Tonnies was a kindred spirit and

an inspiration to me because he alwaysseemed to be able to express difficult andexciting concepts in an eloquent manner.In his quiet, but insistent way, Mac wasalso metaphorically smacking UFOresearchers in the back of the head, askingthem to consider an idea that is so old thatit’s new: What if “aliens” aren’t fromother planets?

The extraterrestrial belief that has astranglehold on many of us will loosen itsgrip when popular views of physics andperception move away from the late 19thcentury models that have dominated themfor so long. When “now” becomes the

“everywhen,” and we fully absorb theimplications of the effect of the observeron the observed and our complicity in thecontinuous creation of our reality, UFOsand other paranormal phenomena mayhold less mystery for us. TheCryptoterrestrials is one of the firstboulders hurled at the modern citadel ofentrenched conventional wisdom.

This book is reaching us at the righttime. Perhaps the worst thing about Mac’stragic early death at age 34 is therealization that there were so many morebooks he was going to write—not all onUFOs and non-humans, but speculativetitles delving deeply into the connectionsbetween science fiction, futurism, cutting-edge science, and the paranormal, andhow they affect each other and therefore

our popular views on the unexplained. Heimmersed himself in these subjects andfound insight, which he passed on toreaders.

The Cryptoterrestrials could do for theparanormal what Colin Wilson’s 1958volume The Outsider did for modernphilosophy: ask the difficult questions andoffer insights that almost no one hadthought of. Wilson dealt with the innerworkings of the creative mind; Tonniessurfs modern ideas about UFOs and“aliens” and probes the tributaries thatmost others prefer to ignore. If this bookcan cause a tempest in the teacup that is“ufology,” then perhaps it can spill overinto the mainstream culture.

It might take the world a little while tocatch up. Mac admits early on that his

proposal is anything but modest and isalmost guaranteed to turn off both theseasoned UFO chaser and the casualdilettante. This volume is probably not forthe uninitiated, or those who don’t acceptthe idea that we are interacting in someway with something that is not us. Oncewe allow this as a serious possibility, awhole host of questions rear their scaryheads. Mac used this as a workinghypothesis, but since he was not a card-carrying paranormal researcher, he wasnever anointed by the UFO cognoscenti,and he most assuredly didn’t care.

In our conversations, he never oncementioned any involvement in a nighttime“UFO watch,” nor had he interviewed aUFO witness and filed a report, orcritically questioned an abduction

researcher. For many, this brings up thescary specter of “armchair research,” thebugaboo of ET believer and skeptic alike.We spoke on a few occasions about theas-yet unchristened discipline of“theoretical ufology” and how this shouldnot be considered a derisive term.

Perhaps the main purpose of TheCryptoterrestrials is to encourage thefermentation of ideas. I wrote acommentary on this subject for the UFOMystic blog recently:

This method [theoretical discourse] isof course well established in other, moreconventional disciplines as a way ofpushing research into new areas.Perhaps one of the best examples is inthe area of physics, where theory oftenhas real-world applications. Of course

the study of UFOs is not a science, butmethods of reaching for new knowledgeapplies here too. The fact that no one hascome to any verifiable conclusions aboutthe subject in over fifty years shouldmake some realize that the pain will stoponce we stop banging our heads on thewall.

The complaint that many of the oldguard (and some of the new) levelagainst theories without field work maybe wearing thin. Many theories comeinto being by observing and collatingdata. Some of the more robust ideas arefurther backed up by repeatable results.Since we cannot do this with UFOsightings, we are left to sift data that hasbeen painstakingly collected over manyyears.

Don’t think for a minute that Tonniesbelieved wholeheartedly in what you readhere. His speculation is sincere. Histhoughts are well reasoned. But he wasnot ready to latch on to any theories (evenhis own) to the exclusion of others. In theUFO field, those who do are guaranteed tolook like fools sooner or later. Tonniesadopted this attitude not to avoid ridicule,but because it appears to be the only saneapproach. This book is an honest pursuitof ideas that might lead to some greaterunderstanding of the paranormal and theexistence of an apparent non-humanintelligence. The concepts expressedherein will germinate in new generationsof UFO students, as thinkers like JohnKeel, Jacques Vallee, Jim Brandon, andeven Whitley Strieber kindled new ideas

in us. If there is a dividing line betweenthe old and new in this field, Mac’s lastbook highlights that line with a fluorescentglow.

The time in which Mac Tonnies cameof age arrived when I was well into my30s. In college, I did research in librariesand typed my term papers on an IBM PCJunior with a whopping 64 kilobytes ofrandom access memory and a nimbleprocessor speed of 3.5MHz (my basicMacintosh now runs 4,500 times fasterand cost me much less). In many ways, Iam dangerously close to being a dinosaur.Mac moved in the world of cyberspace asa native, and his thinking was forged in themore abstract and nonlocal popular logicof the last decade. He taught thispostmodern language to me in our many

phone and internet conversations, as wellas on the few occasions that I was luckyenough to hang out with him.

This is why The Cryptoterrestrialswill find its most lasting home amongstgenerations Y and Z—in an age wherenumerous “experts” have lost their halosafter getting it wrong so many times, or inthe loud denial of a phenomenon whichcontinues to assert itself through reportsfrom thousands of sincere and ofteneducated witnesses from all over theworld.

Blinded by the stark black-and-white ofwitness testimony (often procured withleading and narrow questions),researchers are often working under theassumption that with UFOs, what you seeis what you get, and damn the anomalous

data that doesn’t fit the ET mold. Manyexcite themselves with what I refer to as“UFO porno”—sighting reports,government documents, and the occasionalout-of-focus video. The majority ofpurveyors and consumers of these artifactsare not really interested in any answers.They already have one. With no commonlyaccepted proof to back up their claims,they already know that it’s aliens fromouter space. That attitude is notnecessarily wrong, but it is incrediblylimiting.

We have no solid answers to the UFOpuzzle and those who realize that factshould be excited by new ideas. Whilesome might dismiss Mac Tonnies’writings as “psychological mumbo-jumbo,” the inquiring and circumspect

among us should take his arguments underserious advisement. Evolution does notcome to a reverent halt simply because ageneration wants to think that they are at(or nearly at) the venerated end of a longsearch for the “truth.” Prejudices blur ourview, and we should be aware of thiswhile in pursuit of a phenomenon thatseems to take advantage of our emotionalresponses.

The Cryptoterrestrials asks us toconsider the role that we play in creatingour UFO myths. We might perceive theufonauts as kindly, since the “invasion”appears benign to us, in the sense that itdoes not affect the daily lives of mostpeople. These intrusions might be affectedin a way that is so subliminal that ourpsychological and cultural overlay is

virtually all that remains in thousands ofreports of “aliens” and “UFOs,” with onlya slight whisper of the real source left topuzzle us. Whether this comes from outerspace or closer to home, it could be whatan intelligence outside our own may do tointroduce themselves, or are perhapsattempts to do so time after time overmillennia. The UFO “reality” is probablyco-creation. Our cultural background andexpectations combined with thephenomenon itself produces a result that ismore than the sum of its parts, and many ofus continue to insist on looking at thefinger rather than where it may bepointing.

For the generic UFO researcher andmost of the public, the extraterrestrialhypothesis is that comforting finger. It

flatters our prejudices and extrapolatesneatly from concepts embedded deeply inwestern culture from at least the early 20thcentury. The meme may have been plantedperhaps as far back as 1727, whenJonathan Swift wrote Gulliver’s Travels ,which described a race of beingsobsessed with mathematics who live on aflying island called Laputa. In 1892,Australian Robert Potter produced a novelenti tl ed The Germ Growers, whichdescribed a stealth invasion by aliens whomake themselves appear human anddevelop a disease to wipe out thedominant species. Six years later, H.G.Wells published War Of The Worlds .Wells actually contemplated an alternateending to his story concerning a futurewhere humans move underground to

conduct a generations-long guerilla waragainst the conquering Martians, much asMac proposes in this volume, albeit withHomo sapiens playing the part of the“invaders” and the crypto-race fighting forsurvival in the face of encroachingmodernity.

One of Mac’s favorite authors wasCharles Fort, compiler of strange naturalanomalies who famously wrote “I thinkwe’re property” in his Book Of TheDamned, which reached astonishedreaders in 1919. Fort speculated that atleast some of the witnessed phenomena heculled from scientific journals and thepopular press of his time could beascribed to a vast intelligence whichexisted outside of contemporary conceptsof reality, and whose machinations

appeared absurd from our point of view.Fort imagined a godlike entity that messedwith humanity for its own ends andperhaps even for amusement. Later in thecentury, after decades of sightings andclose encounter cases, we have devolvedinto narrowly bifurcated discussions ofevil or benevolent space visitors. It seemsthat we have not kept pace with ourexpected intellectual evolution.

At the dawn of the 21st century,advances in nanotechnology allow us tospeculate on devices so small that almostinfinite numbers of them could invade andchange our world undetected. The garden-variety UFO researcher usually ignoresthis tributary in favor of flashy ships fromZeta Reticuli. As Tonnies writes: “Whilescintillating ‘spaceships’ and irradiated

landing sites are certainly cause forwonder and scientific concern, theyappear suspiciously mired in the sciencefantasies of the previous century.” Mac isextrapolating here with postmoderntechnology and insights, breaking free ofthe old science-fiction model that hasmired the study of UFOs for so long.

One month before his death, Mac was aguest on the popular Coast to Coast radioshow, reaching an audience of millions.He sounded at ease and confident in hisopinions, and presented himself and hisideas like a pro: clearly and simply. Afterhe went off the air, I called to offer post-interview encouragement and to hear whathe thought about his appearance. Incontrast to what I expected, he wasthrilled with the experience and humble in

its afterglow, with little of the self-doubt Iexpected based on his feelings about hispast media exposure. The hell of it now isthat he was poised to become the one ofthe most eloquent spokesman for a newpopularization of the anti-ET school.

On reading Mac’s last book, what weare left with is a mind cutting throughmuch of the self-satisfied, bloatedfundamentalist fat of the last fifty yearswith the deft touch of a surgeon and theencyclopedic knowledge of a veteran.Keep this book on your shelf. It will be animportant reference for years to come.

– Greg Bishop

Acknowledgments Many people have assisted in and

supported my writing TheCryptoterrestrials, but a few stand out asparticularly gracious and encouraging. Inno particular order:

Elan LevitanNick RedfernPaul Kimball

David Biedny and Gene SteinbergGreg Bishop

Patrick HuygheWilliam Michael Mott

“Mr. Ecks”Michael Garrett

And, of course, everyone who’s taken

the time tocomment on my weblog, Posthuman

Blues.

Bibliography Colin Bennett, Looking for Orthon

(Paraview Press, 2001)Marc Davenport, Visitors from Time

(Greenleaf Publications, 1994)Richard Dolan, UFOs and the National

Security State (Keyhole Publishing, 2000)John Fuller, The Interrupted Journey

(Souvenir Press Ltd.)Timothy Good, Alien Base (Harper

Perennial, 1999)Budd Hopkins, Intruders (Ballantine

Books, 1997)Budd Hopkins and Carol Rainey, Sight

Unseen (Pocket Star, 2004)Patrick Huyghe, The Field Guide to

Extraterrestrials (Avon Books, 1996)David Jacobs, Secret Life (Touchstone,

1993)John Keel, The Complete Guide to

Mysterious Beings (Tor Books, 2002)John Keel, The Eighth Tower (Signet,

1977)John Keel, The Mothman Prophecies

(Tor Books, 2002)John Mack, Abduction (Ballantine

Books, 1997)Ivan Sanderson, Invisible Residents

(Adventures Unlimited Press, 2005)Ivan Sanderson, Uninvited Visitors

(Spearman, 1969)Whitley Strieber, Communion (Avon,

1988)Richard Thompson, Alien Indentities

(Govardhan Hill, 1995)

Jacques Vallee, The Invisible College(Dutton, 1975)

Jacques Vallee, Dimensions(Ballantine Books, 1989)

R.A. Wilson, Cosmic Trigger (NewFalcon Publications, 1991)

About the AuthorMac Tonnies (1975-2009) was an authorand blogger whose work focused onfuturology, transhumanism, and theparanormal. Tonnies grew up inIndependence, Missouri. He was theauthor of two other books, a collection ofscience fiction short stories entitledIllumined Black, and After the MartianApocalypse, an examination of theanomalies on the surface of Mars. Hispopular blog was called PosthumanBlues. Tonnies died at the age of 34 inKansas City, Missouri.

Table of ContentsTitle PageSecond Title PageCopyright PageTable of ContentsEditor's NoteForewordChapter One: Looking for AliensChapter Two: MisdirectionChapter Three: UFOs and the ETHChapter Four: The Abduction EpidemicChapter Five: Encounter with a FlowerChapter Six: Curious BystandersChapter Seven: The SuperspectrumChapter Eight: Water WorldChapter Nine: UndergroundChapter Ten: Among Us

Chapter Eleven: Final ThoughtsAfterwordAcknowledgmentsBibliographyAbout the Author