The Untold Limits of Science In “Alien Abduction”

ImageThe sciences are all about repeatability and categorization. This is how scientists come to know the world. But if there is an independent (or interdependent) intelligence behind so-called “alien abductions” and associated phenomena, two things and only two things are clear about it: It doesn’t care what we call it. And defining it has no bearing on our relationship with it. Our wondering at its facade is our own hangup. What unfolds between us is what we share.

No, the enigmatic other doesn’t give a whit if we think it’s an alien, a time traveller, a demon, a fairy, an angel, a ghost, schizophrenia, a dream, alive or dead. It doesn’t care to correct us, and truly, our interactions with this intelligence have nothing to do with categorization. Repeatability is a different question we’ll get into shortly.

In fact, let’s go one step deeper. It does not matter what experiencers name these beings, think we know about them, where they’re from, and all that. The thing that does not matter, then, is our certainty and our uncertainty. If you handle your experiences with certainty that these are alien doctors studying us and I handle mine by saying I don’t know anything, that these beings are a mystery… does it matter to the beings at all? Do we not end up in the same place?

If what we claim to know about them or not know about them doesn’t affect the experiencing of these things at all, then perhaps science as it currently stands cannot give us a proper framework to explore this, for our “objective” and “subjective” stances carry equal weight in the eyes of these beings. Perhaps that’s why they engage equally with one who thinks they’ve got it all figured out, one who believes they know at least something about it, and one who says they don’t know anything. At the end of the day, maybe factual knowledge has little correlation with our personal growth. This is a different kind of school than we’re used to–intellectual education need not apply. Maybe that is because these interactions transcend the rational and so cannot fully be captured by intellect.

Can’t be captured by it but that doesn’t mean there isn’t an anchor point in the rational. Nature unfolds along a “transcend and include” model. Transrationality, then, has a rational component to it. Perhaps repeatability is that component but it is hidden beneath the multitudes of subjective facades, individual and cultural. Perhaps we’re studying the wrong thing, trying to figure out what a ghost is, an alien, a mothman, and so forth. If these are subjective masks on the walls of our personal caves in our personal hero journeys then we need to look elsewhere for the objective thing. Might it be found in the result of the interactions? That is, the result of walking through the cave of masks and coming out the other side?

Who is that person? How does s/he differ from the one who tiptoed in?

When dealing with the seemingly unknowable, theories based on facades always crumble into belief. This is because researchers tend to stick to their theories until proven wrong, which they will not be, by definition. So if you believe, for example, in malevolent space vampires feeding off our negative emotions then any positive outcome for the experiencer will be seen as a trick from the advanced ghouls. But I haven’t known anyone who hasn’t grown more empathetic at least toward Earth and Nature as a result of their experiences be they positive or negative. Be they following the script of “alien doctor”, “space vampire”, “space brother”, friend, foe, or indifferent. How have we ignored this for so long?–That people whose experiences do not logically lead to empathy for Nature do just that? It’s a non sequitur that has been overlooked because it is a clue to an answer that is culturally more uncomfortable than even the dreaded “alien abduction” Hollywood punchline.

It all ends the same. The experiencer ends up caring deeply about the fundamentals of us all. Literally, our roots. The ground itself is sacred ground. People we can take or leave–but plants? Animals? The air? We cared before global warming was cool. But we didn’t care and mostly still do not know how to care as deeply as First Peoples around the world–and perhaps that’s why we have a different relationship with this enigmatic other than do they. We have different needs in terms of growth.

It is taken as a given that if intelligent beings far more ancient than seems possible given the track we’re on discovered us, they’d ignore us, kill us, enslave us, inject their technology into our system to help advance us, or observe us at a distance. The more hopeful among us believe they’d share information with us. That’s all fantasy based on the notion that how we are right now is the pinnacle of what it means to be human. It’s the fallacy of the intellect being the priority of the universe. I submit to you that what we are actually observing is an interaction wherein the importance of intellect is being negated.We are being show that the wholeness of being has an intellectual component, but it transcends this component. Perhaps knowledge, that most sacred grail of science, is only ever a local phenomenon. It is… ironically… subjective to our species and our time.

If the universal constant to sentient life is not a restless intellectual learning by doing and repeating, but a fuller, wordless intelligence and complete satisfaction in being… then if I were such a being I would only be interested in creating equals out of people from wherever who had that same spark. Because being is indivisible. That spark is the light. That light is one light. One light beaming out from behind different masks whether we’ve discovered it or not. And when we do discover it… What happens when we do? What happens when the faces we wear slough off?

What happens when they don’t?

The Nightmare

Just watched a documentary called The Nightmare. Ostensibly, it’s about sleep paralysis. Problem is, some experiences don’t involve sleep. Some don’t involve paralysis. Some involve more than one person. And most of the experiencers don’t find the medical definition for sleep paralysis meaningful. What a refreshing documentary!

It’s streaming on Netflix now, for those with that service. Do check it out. And if you’re an observer or member of the ufological club, ask yourself what would happen with these people if they went to a hypnotist. I couldn’t help but think that every one of them, in the hands of a David Jacobs, would retrieve a story of rapey hybrids, then be asked for their undergarments for study or offered a genitalia defense mechanism he found in a sex shop. Then he’d be welcomed on all of the radio shows that claim to take this seriously. Then be invited to speak at any UFO conference he likes. Then be given an award by MUFON. Then be defended by sicko-phants.

Oh, sorry. I fell asleep. Had a bad dream there. The one where the promoters of truth-seeking didn’t give a shit and the audience that patted itself on the back for thinking outside the box of the mainstream was equally full of shit. The one where guest speakers at conferences were nothing more than self-appointed experts, con men, and glorified book reviewers. The one where….

CHRIST, IS THAT A HAND CRAWLING TOWARD ME?!

 

The Subtle Racism of Ufology

An Orb of Light Chris Brown Witnessed

On a recent episode of The Experience, I spoke with Ardy Sixkiller Clarke about her new book, Sky People. Through direct interviews with trusting people living in remote villages throughout Mesoamerica, Ardy paints a picture of “alien” phenomena that is both similar to what we’ve all heard and distinct. Distinct in that the predominant entity encountered is not a short gray doctor with wraparound eyes, but a ball of light that can morph into a (usually tall) humanoid. A light being.

The guest on this week’s show is Chris Brown–an American man who had a couple of ball light incidents, which really shook him up in the “I must tell the world at all costs/MUFON investigators say I’m the only one who has been this close to this phenomenon” sort of way.

Ah, I remember the days of “I must tell the world!” enthusiasm. But I also remember what comes next: belief/disbelief/ridicule/some friends and allies/some stalkers and trollers/nothing. George Hansen’s audience will recognize this as part of Trickster Theory: entering any paranormal field is like walking into the dangerous poppy fields of Oz, where everything goes wonky and you forget who you are. It’s a subculture war for the hearts and minds of anyone who will listen. It’s intellectual bum fights.

Lately I’ve come to wonder if this is accurate. Is there really a trap set by a seeming intelligence hovering about like an air-born hallucinogen, just waiting for us to step into its mist? Or is it more likely that this circus of responses to one’s abnormal experience ending in nothing concrete (and often tears) is what happens when the culture defines normalcy by exclusion?

I mean, if I were to take my ball of light encounters to someone, anyone, from an indigenous nation who was raised to listen with an ear toward inclusiveness, that person wouldn’t shut the door on my encounter because it doesn’t challenge their sense of normalcy. It adds to and enriches it. In Western culture it would only add to and enrich one’s experience if I told it as fiction. To tell it as nonfiction is taboo.

So perhaps this belief/disbelief/ridicule/some friendships/some stalkers and trollers/nothing churn is one of neuroticism produced by the friction of a subculture attempting to be inclusive within an exclusionary mainstream culture, which is where its real heart beats. Perhaps, just perhaps, this Trickster Theory is describing a defense mechanism inherent to Western thought.

Now let’s get back to Chris Brown’s experiences. He’s excited by them because he was told by MUFON investigators that they were unique in their close proximity. So close were these lights that he could describe what was happening within them. Never been done before. Never.

Never, MUFON? What about all of the Native Americans living right here who have such a close relationship with these ball light beings that they set a space aside for them to show up during ceremony and sweat lodges? What about the fact that they often do show up?

Mesoamerican research is one thing. Traveling expenses are ridiculous, so let’s all thank Ardy Clarke for putting up her own money to do this. But what about North America? Canada? What about right here? Why is it again on Ardy Clarke to talk to Native Americans in her first book and one forthcoming?

While it is true that ball light phenomena have been reported time and again in association with “alien”, “ghost/spirit”, and other encounters… and as I said, I’ve personally seen them… why does reading Ardy Clarke’s book feel like a revelation? Why was Chris Brown told his experience was unique?

Where are the voices from other cultures standing right beside us? Are we afraid to speak with them? Are we afraid to learn that they have a fuller understanding of certain phenomena because they’ve built relationships with intelligences we have yet to engage in any meaningful way, while we’re still stuck on “Is it real?” and “I know what I saw!” and “The government better tell us what it knows–We have a right!”

How does that Western mind–which, like a child, believes itself to be the pinnacle of what Mind is and therefore believes itself to be at the frontier of exploration–engage its neighbor who has already formed close bonds with the transrational beings we ogle at a distance?

What would happen to ufology and the infantile Disclosure Movement if they were to learn that there is nothing left to pioneer, discover, or fight for, because those words are products of a culture that dominates through exclusivity and separation? What if they learn that these transrational beings entered into relationship with non-Westernized peoples long ago and that their “rational mind” pinnacle is only as 1st World as their bullets and disease?

What revelation about us and our culture awaits us on the waking side of the poppy field? Do we want to find out?

Do we honestly?

I submit to you that we suffer from a fear greater than the alien and that is a fear of our own shortcomings. The shortcomings of how we process and shape reality. And that fear is why we rarely engage people we believe we’ve “conquered” or who are otherwise born into cultures we’ve deemed “inferior.”

Meanwhile, they don’t deem us inferior or superior because their mind transcends that childish comparison. But just try telling a little kid who thinks he’s an adult that he’s a little kid. He’ll throw a tantrum in protest, such is the strength of the image he has built of himself.

There is a simple way out of this field of pies. Investigators? Actively engage and include everyone. That may mean setting aside the knowledge we’ve accumulated, giving up the dominant role of the investigator, and just listening. Not foisting hypnosis on people to hear that story again, either. Just listening.

Since we don’t actually know anything about the unknown, isn’t it more honest to admit we’re all still learning?

In the classroom we are equals. We’re sharing. We’re equals. Equality is the foundation of right relationship with any being, known or unknown. Dare we become students again? Dare we speak with and not at? Dare we let go the temper tantrums and allow ourselves to be wild and alive with curiosity again?

Dare we make the leap from subculture to transculture?

If we do, perhaps we’ll throw the Trickster for a loop.