Paratopia Unmoored

It is 2021 and all the world is speaking about UAP in the same terminology and context as Ted Roe and NARCAP did on this show a decade ago. What changed? And why isn’t NARCAP ever mentioned in the mainstream media? 

These are the questions I had for Ted. He gave the answers. And then he burned the proverbial house to the ground in this information-rich and somewhat heartbreaking episode. 

Yup, that’s the description for tomorrow’s Paratopia Unmoored. What’s that, you ask? It’s the name of any further Paratopia episodes from here on out. Normally I will be releasing them on a Sunday so as not to break up the flow of the Paratopia rereleases. However, as I explain at the top of the program, this one was too controversial, or maybe newsworthy in ufological circles–something in there–to pull focus from the next episode of Paratopia. It features the first appearance of Dr. Dennis McKenna, which was a pivotal moment for Jeff and me. So, that episode will air next Friday and this Friday is the return of Ted Roe. And oh, what a return it is!

No spoilers. Tune in. Tell a friend. Some of our idols are about to get name-checked off the list of sacred cows.

Somewhere out there, Jeff Ritzmann is shouting, “Ah-ha! Yeeeees!”

Hey, now that your done reading this, won’t you please visit www.narcap.org, check out their research, and consider helping them any way you can?

Aaaand to catch up on Paratopia and Our Undoing Radio, stick this in your iTunes:

https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/our-undoing-radio/id1442061342

You, As A Reader, Have Entered The Mystery

Are experiencers of high strangeness authors of the impossible, to steal a phrase from Jeff Kripal? Well, first questions first: Are our experiences about the actual, the possible, or the impossible and are we authors of anything at all?

I cheated. That’s two questions. Or four. But who’s counting?

Seems to me that if we’re retelling what actually occurred and we don’t know all of what actually occurred because some elements are missing for us, then we’re not retelling the actual. We’re retelling our reaction to something strange and telling what it means to us. So, we can nix the actual.

Within this whatever-it-is experience, are we shown, demonstrating, or otherwise conjuring the possible? Possibly. Perhaps there’s a dual meaning to having an element of our experience that is missing–which is that there’s something missing in us, or something of which we are on the cusp, and aliens are really movie trolls giving us spoilers to the film of our lives.

What about the impossible, then? Well, that one’s trickier because if we’re shown something impossible as though it is actual, or immersed in a hallucinatory virtual reality wherein we’re tricked into believing something impossible, then outside of another type of trolling, this would presumably be something done to us for us. For our benefit, perhaps, but definitely for us to work on. Maybe just to see what we do with it, see how it does or does not grow us.

Now, you may have tackled those questions before, so let’s swoop it around to a question you might have missed: What, if anything, is the role of the audience in this?

No story comes alive without an audience. And an experience that does not reveal what it actually is, that is itself a mystery, is nothing more than a story. But saying “nothing more” isn’t giving story credit for what it is: story is everything. Story is the living connection between author and audience, both of whom are writing it and filling it and themselves with meaning. So, if I’m an experiencer and I’m writing this and you’re a reader reading it, that means we’re writing the story together. I’m giving the words and my meaning and you’re also giving meaning and pondering to add or subtract words, or, less likely, say, “That’s perfectly stated.” We’re both editing it. We’re both giving life to it and therefore meaning to it and ourselves through the simple act of caring to engage by way of interest.

So then, what is the mystery intelligence with whom I have interacted to write this in the first place–and you’ve taken an interest in in the first place–doing, if not writing and editing and giving meaning along with us?

The intelligence is a catalyst, is clay, is a canvas–but it is not blank. I mean it’s not all freeform for you and me. There is some partially-recognizable event going on in the pre-first place that we’re riffing off of.

We treat alien abduction and paranormal contact at large as if they are one long chainmail going from nonhuman (or nonliving human) intelligence to experiencer to audience, but, as demonstrated here, this cannot be the case. There is no fully fleshed-out, fully-realized experience on the experiencer’s part. And so the experience does not “come alive” in the retelling the way an instruction manual does or a scientific formula or the recitation of one’s average day with people at the office. Or even a myth, for that matter, which has a universal subtextual consistency, even though the story’s surface varies, culture to culture.

No, high strangeness experiences are not what they appear to be. And their meanings are not written where you’d expect them to be–at the beginning, with what should be the intent of the original author, this intelligence bothering to interact with us.

The mystery is a mystery. The experiencer’s role in that mystery is a part of the mystery. The audience’s role in that mystery is a part of the mystery. What comes alive from this in story and why is also a mystery.

Mystery begets mystery and we’re all invited. That is as much actuality as can be stated about high strangeness phenomena.

Perhaps, then, trying to figure out what this intelligence is and what its motives are is the wrong direction, for not only is high strangeness experience not about what we want it to be about, its behavior might not even be compatible with how we typically think about behaviors.

Meta Story: Paranormal And The Self

Paranormal events in one’s life tend to create more stories through newly-made story tellers than they explain of the meta story being told by the events themselves. In order to possibly get at the meta story, we have to turn our way of listening on its ear. This means not just asking different questions about the events, or of the witnesses, but listening to the story telling in such a way that novel questions reveal themselves. Here are a handful that may spark something in you.

Which Came First: Fairies Or Fairy Lore?

This one may have an answer that a folklorist could speak to. We know that there are documented cases of fairy encounters dating back hundreds of years, but are these the origins of fairy folklore, or a product of it?

I wonder if when we look at documented cases of fairy encounters, we jump to an assumption that the earliest lore also comes from real encounters. Do we have evidence one way or another for the origin of “real” fairy tales? Could it be that these were, for instance, stories told to affect behavior in children, that then were somehow brought to life, either in the context of a tulpa created unconsciously, or as the mask of an intelligence interacting with us as something we can understand? Not just understand, but that will not be confused for anything else in reality, because it’s borrowing from the imaginal? Perhaps an intelligence also interested in affecting our behavior?

Now apply these questions to ufology.

Is Farce The Only Repeating Factor In Paranormal Activity?

The stranger and more nonlinear the paranormal story is the more likely I am to believe it. If it’s a tidy narrative with a beginning, middle, and end spoken with confidence by a person who has an answer for everything, forget it. They’re making it up. Usually this is conscious, but I have encountered at least one man I know for sure who had a bunch of narcissistic paranormal fantasies that resulted from a mental breakdown gone wrong. (Aren’t you supposed to hit bottom and then get real with yourself?)

Many, if not most, lifelong experiencers of high strangeness reading this (and numerous researchers, too) know that just when they think they’ve got this intelligence pegged it throws a curve ball. As me ol’ broadcast partner Jeff Ritzmann likes to say, the paranormal asks us, “Are you sure?” It’s a dare to believe in our certainty.

Certainty. The unknown? Really? Is there anything more certain, more solidly repeatable in any paranormal encounter, than the fact that it’s a farce? I mean right down to the instrumentation used to detect it.

Repeatability as farce is one of my favorite repeating farces in this circus. The challenge to our letting it all ride on logic at life’s craps table extends to how we detect the paranormal through technology. It may be that something like a Frank’s Box, which is clearly a “you hear what you want to hear” wish fulfillment contraption, worked just enough times to get scores of researchers trying it out, only to find that it doesn’t work at all, and then arguing over its validity. Much as psychics say about paranormal/spiritual apparitions not being able to manifest signs of their presence in the room unless everyone is open to it, detection tools only work clearly and definitely if you don’t have any faith in them working at all. It’s the same principle in reverse, isn’t it? A farce of a farce.

And isn’t that also the exact same principle at play with people who “call in” UFOs? Guess what isn’t going to show up if there’s a skeptic ruining the vibe with his case-closed belief? Guess what isn’t going to show up in any definite “this is an alien craft” form in front of true believers, night after night, while the cameras are rolling? (Well… maybe. Just not if they invite a news crew or a mass of people.)

Something may have shown up once or twice–enough times to get a small group interested in repeatedly trying to call them in night after night, only to have them end up “calling in” satellites and airplanes. The phenomenon pulls a disappearing act after a while, leaving a group of people inviting others to their nightly ritual of meditating on mistaken identities. Meanwhile, you know who will have a life-changing experience from that group? It’ll be the skeptic who runs outta there, and, on his way to the car, feeling silly for even coming to this stupid thing, has a female squirrel approach and start talking to him about how these people are nuts, but that’s okay, she collects nuts–something so ridiculous as to not at all seem related to aliens in spaceships and yet it cannot be coincidence. Therefore, the UFO in the sky? ISN’T ALIENS IN SPACESHIPS. And now that I’ve written that very definite answer, squirrel women in space suits will appear to ask me if I want to travel the universe with them in their acorn.

Is Free Will An Illusion In Paranormal Experiences?

As those of you who have encountered something highly strange retell it to your friends, family, and the people at the party turned off by your assumption that this is the time and the place for such a conversation because there’s nothing else to talk about because what else in life could be more important than something you’ve seen and they haven’t that you can’t explain but that they think is delusional because you’re manic and annoying in your insistence that they listen when all they want to do is talk about how much they hate Tom Brady?–Yeah, YOU. Ask yourself this:  Did you have a choice in what seemed like a free will situation?

How many witnesses to the strange say, “I could have done such-and-such, but I didn’t.” It begs the question, Could you have, or did it just feel that way?

I had the ultimate I AM identity experience of being/seeing nothingness become consciousness and then manifest the universe, which is also me, and which sounds like it unfolded linearly, but actually is always already happening right now. Immediately following the experience I intuited a choice: live as that onenessy nondual now guy or come back to normal. I chose normal so that I could write about it–bring my message to my people, as it were. But guess who cares about that? No one! Because I’m me!

No one wants to hear from a self-promoting hypocrite about oneness and joy and love. Unless I’m wrong, in which case, won’t you please join me at www.ourundoing.com? Monthly membership is now available.

The point is, it was, perhaps, a mistake to remain as I am with nonduality as an experience tucked away in the recesses of my awareness, rather than exploding into this dynamic new cave-dwelling character with a wizard beard and yellowed, curling nails that don’t quit. Buuuut… was it? I mean, was the choice real? Or was it that I dragged myself out of nonduality, back into my normal sense of separation, and then choice became a thing again?

The brain, which was transcended and included within the nondual experience, is back at work claiming control as the self and pretending to have a big decision to make. But if the decision of the self is to be annihilated or to live on and “evolve”, when would it ever choose its own demise? You see the problem?

And so this problem very likely translates for all experiences that take you out of yourself. Maybe they take place in some sci fi subspace bubble where you think you’re still in the here and now, but (at least psychically) you’re actually in another realm or a broader bunch of dimensions. Who knows? The question is, does such an experience play out in the only way it can, but when you come back to normal and review it, you think you could have chosen to do something differently?

A common example is not using the cell phone in your hand as a camera to document the occurrence. “Yeah, I don’t know why I didn’t think of it at the time, but I should have done that.” Many a witness kicks herself over this. But don’t kick too hard, lady, you might not have had a choice. In fact, you might not have been in your right mind even though you thought you were. This plays into the age old question, “If anyone else had been there with you, would they have seen the same thing or had the same experience as you?” Getting back to the sense of farce as repeatability, the answer is sometimes no and sometimes yes.

***

What do these three big questions drive toward? What’s the story they are telling if we know how to read? Isn’t it that we cannot trust anything?

We know we can’t trust high strangeness phenomena to present anything conclusively real in the way our culture demands. In fact, we can’t even trust its presentation as anything other than a representation plucked from our own minds. And now we see that we cannot trust ourselves, either. We can’t trust our evidence for very long; we can’t trust the stability of our sense of self in the situation; we can’t trust our choices. This leads many of us to grow frustrated and wonder why this intelligence is hiding and manipulating us if it isn’t malevolent. Some call it toxic. Is it toxic or is it pointing out our toxicity?

Ours is a selfish culture. We believe in the individual, the self, and we believe that this self is moving through time and, with any bit of luck, evolving through learning, through flashes of insight, and through new experiences. We believe in bettering and furthering the self, not self annihilation. Yet here is a circus of seemingly different phenomena that we call paranormal, psychic, spiritual, ufological, and high strangeness, which really aren’t so different beneath their surface presentations. This thing they have in common is their ability to demolish 1.) our expectations and conclusions regarding them and 2.) our ability to control and catalog them. In other words, our arrogance.

They present. We build up. They let us down. In the beginning we question them, but by the end, they make us question ourselves. Unless we refuse, which makes us delusional, which means we become toxic to ourselves, but with someone or something else to blame.

What’s the story there?

And when do we turn the page?