Will You Be There?

It’s free. No signing up or signing in. No finding your email has been subscribed to a newsletter you never wanted. No catch at all. Just you showing up. And us having a conversation about life, the universe and no-thing.

Will you be there?

Please tell a friend. Or two, or five. Usually deep issues of consciousness are hashed out by the intelligentsia at universities and in other scholarly circles. Or for the rest of us, it’s hot garbage at a New Age convention. Well, not this first weekend in June. This first weekend in June, we will be hearing from people who represent various elephants in the room. Taboo topics. The ones ignored in the scholarly circles and made a shallow spectacle of by the New Age crowd.

It’s up to you to discover how important this is. Showing up means we will likely keep it going. Not means definitely not. For those of you who have long complained–and rightly so–about the lack of quality conferences regarding these topics close to you, this is for you. I’ll be streaming the Youtube feed right here, at OurUndoing.com, at JaylonProductions.com, and on Twitter. It will also stream via Facebook Live all over the place there, and on my Twitch channel that I set up just for this event. If one gamer accidentally watches it there, I’ll be happy. Then s/he can get back to narrating Call of Duty play-throughs or whatever it is the kids are doing these days.

What are YOU doing these days?

Will you be there?

Hybrids Aren’t Real: The Evidence We Missed

Whelp, it looks like my extortion worked. Enough of you bought books. I was kinda hoping you’d fall short so I could do a long essay leading up to the big reveal that I cannot make the big reveal as you didn’t do your part. But you did. Here’s your reward….

Alright. You’ve likely heard the arguments that alien-human hybrids aren’t real, but let’s go over them anyway. It’ll help pad this thing out. Really, there’s no other reason.

The Arguments You May Know

1.) We’re All Nuts

Writing a sentence that starts with, “You’ve likely heard the arguments that alien-human hybrids aren’t real….” already implies that you and I are delusional or insane because this topic is stupid and not to be taken seriously. I wish this were true, then I could stop writing.

Since my argument that hybrids aren’t real is in service to revealing what is real about the abduction topic, the people who stick with the “You’re all crazy” argument mean me, too. This one’s a shortsighted non-argument for me. Still, there are people–oh, there are people–who will argue it, thus ending their inquiry. For the rest of us saps, let’s move on….

2.) Our Human Science Is Already Beyond This

Ah. Now we have a fair argument. It’s an interesting one because when hybrids were all the rage in the mid-eighties and nineties, it still seemed futuristic to imagine space orphanages full of gene-spliced humaliens. Alas, we’ve now evolved our own technology to the extent that this seems quaint by our standards in our 2020 hindsight. Pun intended. You’re welcome.

3.) Hybrids Come From Hypnosis

I believe this to be true and it likely explains the 2nd argument. I know of not one case where alien-human hybrids were introduced to abductees that didn’t stem from hypnotic recall. And hypnotic recall, you’ll recall, is not to be trusted. Say it with me, people: hypnosis is a tool of mesmerism used to alter behavior and create false memories, not retrieve real memories. Although some real memory may come up, so, too, does imagination masquerading as memory. This has been demonstrated in study after study.

What are hybrids in this context? Well, we know that Deb Kauble told Budd Hopkins about a dream she had involving a little girl, after she lost her pregnancy in real life. Budd told her, and then the world, that this dream was not a dream but a real encounter (or a flashback to one, I forget.) This is how the “missing pregnancy” ufological meme was born. A lot of people get angry when I say that. But what else can I say here?

From missing pregnancies we get hybrids. Here we turn to Budd’s bestie, David Jacobs, who took the hybrid ball and ran with it. If you’ve ever heard the recordings of his hypnosis sessions you know that he cross-pollinated his subjects with the same hybrid horror story before, during, and after hypnosis. Whether by purpose or by accident, Jacobs became the center of a story he was telling through a cluster of people via hypnosis. That’s putting it charitably.

4.) Hybrids Are Folklore

Alien-human hybrids are not much different than god-human hybrids like Hercules and Jesus and Helen of Troy. Not much different than stories we find of the wee people in faery folklore. The higher being/human breeding program is strong in our mythology. Some modern day folks assume that ye olde hybrid tales were really alien encounters being interpreted by unsophisticated morons who wouldn’t understand if the alien said they came from the stars. This, despite the unsophisticated rubes of yesteryear having built entire cultures and priesthoods around cosmology, as well as hyper-accurate structures on the ground reflecting events and alignments in the sky.

Yeah, something tells me an alien landing and saying, “I come from the sky” wouldn’t be as big a culture shock for them as it would for us. Who is the unsophisticated rube again?

What is interesting here is the question of why stories that come out of hypnosis reflect our folklore and mythology. Perhaps this is where Carl Jung steps in and tells us that the same archetypal stories are so engrained in us, we cannot help but repeat them when we go inside to pull something unknown out–in this case, “missing” memory. Maybe this is what happens when the story-telling is only partially a conscious act and is a group effort.


Those are the known arguments, the ones I’ve heard anyway. Although, to be frank, I haven’t heard them put quite as eloquently and enticingly as that, so really good job me. (Thanks, also me.) Now, onto the one argument I have not heard–the one that is so duh, it really nails it shut. Doesn’t keep it shut because the undead don’t die, and in ufology we mainly deal in reanimating corpses. Original thought is glanced past; getting anywhere is frowned upon. Such is the power of a belief system we don’t even acknowledge is a belief system.

5.) All of These Different Aliens Are Working With Each Other. Why Aren’t They Mating With Each Other, Too?

I know, right? DUH! How did we miss this one all these years? The assumption is that there are aliens stealing our genetic material to create hybrids because their planet became unviable, so they have to live here. Or their bodies are unviable, so they need a human upgrade. Usually some permutation of this theme is given as the reason.

Buuuuuut, when we say “aliens,” who are we talking about? Reptilians, Grays, and Blond Nordics. There are others, but those are the big three, right?


Why aren’t they trading their own genetic material with each other?

Why aren’t they sharing their planets with each other?

They work with each other, right? Do they have a strict no co-mingling at office parties policy or something? If so, it’s really getting in the way of their mission. I mean really getting in the way.

And Nordic Blondes are us at our European sexiest–take their genetic materials. They’re right there on your ship thanks to the Galactic Federation of Light, or whatever. I mean, seriously? They’re all working together but they need to come here and steal from us? They need to transform into us to live here as we look to transform into computers and Martians because we’ve destroyed here? What?

Yeah. So there’s that. If you still want to believe in alien-human hybrids, good luck making your way past number five. You can’t unsee it; it’s right there: Groups of aliens so technologically advanced that they traverse space, like humans driving to the grocery store, are cooperating to take our genetic stock, using antiquated medical tech (they have some catching up with us to do on that front; no science is perfect), instead of staying home and helping each other out. Or–hey!–they could swoop down and learn from our geneticists how to do hybridization more efficiently, so they don’t have to keep barging into our bedrooms at night. They could just kinda one-and-done it if their technology wasn’t shit.

Oh, well. Someday they’ll figure it out. I have faith.

Meanwhile, this is longer and way better than what I expected to write. Thanks for buying my books and listening to my podcasts. Our Undoing Radio returns in January. Ho-ho-ho, y’all.

See you next year!

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.