Greg Bishop pointed my way to this database of 2007 "humanoid" reports. Yes, I'm aware that most are probably noise. But we can't automatically discount the possibility of a signal, however faint.

Here's a fascinating account of strange humanoids in Argentina:

Strange Creatures Seen In San Luis Argentina

While the trimming operations took place on the avenue, adjacent to a stream, traffic was interrupted and once restored, locals driving through the area, lighting it with their car headlights, claimed to have seen the strange figures. They reportedly saw "some little men coming out of the amputated tree and walking single file toward the library.

It's worth at least considering that the imp-like creatures were flesh-and-blood primates forced to evacuate in fear of ever-encroaching humans. (Also note the conspicuous absence of any UFO or reported "spacecraft.")

The idea that we're sharing Earth with a fellow intelligent species forces us to consider 60+ years of UFO lore in a fundamentally new light. For if we succeed in rendering the planet into a dessicated husk, it's possible we may be forced to acknowledge a "cryptoterrestrial" presence on unforgiving terms. Will we be forced to vie for resources with an uprooted neighbor species or will we manage to coexist amicably?

A must-read post by Greg Bishop:

Making UFO Sense Often Sucks

The source and meaning of truly "unexplained" UFOs seems to be hidden, and will likely remain that way for quite some time. It will reveal itself to us when we are ready, or when it is. Many UFO cases, if looked at from a symbolic perspective, reveal more to our humanness than simple questions about "where the aliens come from and what they're doing here."

Bishop posits that brushes with the paranormal, just like encounters with genuine art, convey meaning by remaining purposefully elusive. (Ever tried "explaining" a David Lynch movie to someone, or to yourself? In my experience, people who feel the acute need to understand "Eraserhead" on a literal level are exactly the sort of people who'll sap your brains, given the opportunity.)

My own creative powers (such as they are) suffer when I try to adhere to a template, which is one of the reasons I try to keep away from writing "how-to" texts, as seductive as some of them are. But when I relax my guard -- never an easy trick -- I find that meaning and structure often arise as if of their own volition.

The field of ufology suffers from a related problem, the toxic assumption that UFOs and other elements of forteana must necessarily yield to a single consciously derived explanation -- whether the hallowed Extraterrestrial Hypothesis or something else.

But if we're dealing with a truly alien intelligence there's no promise that its thinking will be linear. Indeed, its inherent weirdness might serve as an appeal to an aspect of the psyche we've allowed to atrophy. It might be trying to rouse us from our stupor, in which case it's tempting to wonder if the supposed ETs are literally us in some arcane sense.

Peter Watts ("Blindsight") ponders the most efficient method of detecting potential "zombies" among us. I'm weirdly enamored of the idea that some of the human population is nonsentient but capable of pulling off a most convincing show. And I can't help but speculate what the social repercussions might be if we actually detected a scattered subpopulation of neurological zombies in our midst.

Would we deign to consider them "human" in the conventional sense of the word? Would we actively fear them or merely find them puzzling, as we might a person with a novel cognitive disorder?

But it gets weirder. Watts suggests that "zombies" might actually be smarter than baseline humans, in which it's possible that their ostensible humanity, aside from serving as a prudent social facade, might mask astounding capabilities.

Could "zombies," if they exist, play a role in the cryptoterrestrial mythos? Are they the "aliens" we encounter time and again, engaged in inscrutable activities in the vicinity of exotic craft?

(See this related post for more.)

Alongside Steve Erickson's "Our Ecstatic Days" and Nick Redfern's "Three Men Seeking Monsters," I've been reading "Alien Abductions: Creating a Modern Phenomenon" by Terry Matheson. Resolutely skeptical (Matheson's book was published by Prometheus, the publishing arm of the Center for Scientific Inquiry), "Alien Abductions" takes on a subject almost as portentous as the purported phenomenon itself: the role of narrative technique used to convey the ever-evolving "truth" behind abduction accounts.





Unlike many would-be debunkers, Matheson's book reveals an astute familiarity with the principal texts (John Fuller's "The Interrupted Journey," Raymond Fowler's books on Betty Andreasson, etc.) Matheson raises valid points about the way popular authors present strange memes to an astonished (if often credulous) readership. In so doing, he sounds a scholarly alarm that writers of the paranormal ignore at their peril.

I happen to agree with Matheson insofar as the influence of narrative bias is concerned. And I'm sympathetic to the prospect that the popularly conceived alien abduction phenomenon offers a glimpse into a mythology in the making. (Refreshingly, Matheson takes issue with fellow debunkers who would have us ignore the phenomenon altogether simply because it seemingly fails to live up to the "nuts and bolts" standards of conformist ufology.)

"Alien Abductions" is an expose of best-known selections from the abduction literature, hardly a broad-spectrum analysis of the subject. As such, it remains a valid insight into the mythic potential of what might be a reality quite beyond our grasp. But its scope is severely limited. For example, Matheson appears content accepting the Extraterrestrial Hypothesis as 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 techniques employed by authors of abduction books does little to resolve larger, more troubling issues.

To his credit, Matheson pointedly distances the "abduction" epidemic from the UFO phenomenon; we have yet to establish that UFOs are here to snatch humans for the purposes of some alien agenda. On the other hand, some UFOs betray what can only be some form of intelligence, however rudimentary; this alone begs the question of what they're here for (assuming they came from elsewhere) and, more excitingly, what the implications might be for human consciousness.

Kevin Randle, co-author of the lucid "The Abduction Enigma," is a sincere proponent of the Extraterrestrial Hypothesis. He's also a critic of abductions; like Matheson, he views the UFO mystery as distinct from claims of alien intrusion. While I appreciate this much-ignored distinction, I'm not certain it's necessarily warranted, especially as the Extraterrestrial Hypothesis remains a stubborn controversy in its own right. We could very well be dealing with an indigenous nonhuman intelligence, in which case the assumptions of abduction debunkers, whose arguments are couched in extraterrestrial terminology, are stripped of their skeptical allure.

For the most part, the ufological landscape remains a sparring ground for entrenched notions of dispassionate ET visitors and equally tenacious claims of popular delusion. Consequently, we've gone about attempting to "debunk" a phenomenon that continues to defy definition. While many -- if not most -- well-known abduction narratives are indeed fallible, disquieting findings from emerging (or suppressed) disciplines promise to reframe the debate.

I suspect the truth, if we can find it, will be considerably weirder than "mere" extraterrestrial visitors or sociologically induced fantasy.

Shape-shifting 'smart dust' may explore alien world

Thousands of miniscule wireless sensors, or "smart dust," could one day be used to explore other planets.

Several research groups are developing tiny smart dust devices. Each is a few cubic millimeters in volume and can perform simple sensing tasks and relay messages to other such devices over distances of less than a meter.

Together, they can be sprinkled across an area or throughout a building, and used to sense chemicals or vibrations, and relay messages from one another back to a central control.

I've argued that genuine extrasolar aliens would be more inclined to use a form of "smart dust" than rely on relatively cumbersome flying discs. The aliens themselves might even take the form of smart dust or its interstellar equivalent. Paradoxically, the UFO phenomenon, while physically real, presents us with the disconcerting specter of flesh-and-bone beings at the controls of comprehensible (if unconventional) vehicles.

Paul Kimball writes:

One question that doesn't get asked enough by ufology is this: if the UFOs are extraterrestrial in origin, with all of the advanced technology that this would involve (memo to the ETHers: it isn't as easy as you think it is to travel between the stars), why do they allow themselves to be seen, as surely they must, given their technological prowess?

The fact that the UFO phenomenon is so rampant argues against extraterrestrial origin and favors an intelligence with a penchant for theater. While it's possible to argue that a visiting ET civilization could be staging sightings as part of some sort of long-term social experiment (or even as an acclimatization program), it's at least as tempting to discard the ETH entirely. But the remaining options infringe deeply on our collective sense of self, making the ETH a comforting -- if unwieldy -- recourse.

Genuine ET visitors would probably have little need for the conspicuous maneuvers and trace evidence that form the backbone of the ETH. In the event of alien visitation, it's likely we'd never see objects resembling recognizable craft -- let alone vehicles encumbered with attention-grabbing lights and adorned with portholes.

Our own technological trajectory suggests that a full-scale planetary reconnaissance could be achieved using incredibly small devices. A nanotech "smart dust," for instance, could infiltrate and reap a vast real-time harvest of information -- all without our knowing. As we prepare to use such technologies to study our own planet (and its inhabitants) in ever-increasing detail, we're forced to question prevailing ufological assumptions. While scintillating "spaceships" and irradiated landing sites are certainly cause for wonder and scientific concern, they appear suspiciously mired in the science fantasies of the previous century.





Where are the real alien technologies? Hidden, perhaps, behind the subterfuge of "motherships" that have haunted our skies since at least the 1950s? If a civilization wanted to keep us preoccupied with bogus sightings, the modern UFO spectacle would certainly seem elaborate enough to do the job. But it's difficult to imagine why ETs would bother, in turn suggesting an intelligence much closer to home.

To Jacques Vallee, the answer was a "multiverse" of interpermeable realities: the "ufonauts" engaged our sense of mythology because they hailed from an aspect of space-time ever-so-slightly removed from our own. To John Keel, both UFO displays and "monster" sightings were psychic distractions enforced by an unseen intelligence.

Both ideas, while attractive, ask that we shed the ETH in favor of something with more immediate existential consequences. More damningly (from a research perspective), both the multiverse and Keel's "superspectrum" beg for nothing less than a redefinition of the physical universe.

It's hardly surprising that "mainstream" ufologists greeted such ideas with mixed reactions; after all, the phenomenon had repeatedly demonstrated physical characteristics amenable to empirical science. Ufologists, already burdened by the omnipresent giggle factor, had long since ceased to speculate about the origin and purpose of UFOs in favor of obtaining physical "proof."

In hindsight, perhaps this was the phenomenon's intention all along.

The second part of my interview with Tim Binnall is online. Tune in to hear me decry the present state of ufology, pimp the Cryptoterrestrial Hypothesis and more. (Featuring the music of Portishead.)

The musical preview for my next Binnall of America Audio appearance is online. Good god -- two uninterrupted hours of me talking about UFOs.

Many UFO occupant incidents have a surreal flavor that initially seems to contradict the phenomenon's physicality. If some run-ins with ufonauts are staged events engineered to encourage belief in (and subsequent dismissal of) the Extraterrestrial Hypothesis (ETH), "they" perhaps couldn't have done a better job than the 1955 Hopkinsville "invasion."

Arthur C. Clarke's maxim notwithstanding, the Hopkinsville "goblins" are an intriguing fusion of the "real" and the "magical." Their abilities seem calculated to tarnish an empirical approach to the ETH by introducing elements of the fantastic; indeed, these same elements would eventually be used as ammunition by would-be skeptics determined to denounce the account.





For example, the diminutive "goblins" reportedly levitated and proved immune to gunfire. While not necessarily out of the realm of possibility for genuine ETs, the entities' goblin-like appearance argues for an origin in keeping with folklore. If they were "real," then their reality might not be as amenable to the ETH as researchers would like. Conversely, the desire to debunk the Sutton family's claim appears little more than a protest against the episode's surreal nature.

UFO researchers like their aliens to abide by 20th century preconceptions of what alien beings should look like; entities like those observed in Hopkinsville comprise a kind of viral assault on conformist ufology by insinuating themselves into reigning conceits and quietly subverting ETH dogma. Ultimately, their existence is marginalized and becomes less ufological than "fortean." We're asked, in effect, to consider the Hopkinsville visitors and their like as somehow separate and distinct from "hardcore" case-files that more readily suggest extraterrestrial visitation. We do so at our peril.

Even UFO cases central to advocates of the ETH sometimes betray a psychosocial agenda. ("Dogfights" and radar-visual engagements with UFOs, while impressive evidence that the phenomenon is anything but simply visionary, also present the specter of an inexplicably "playful" disposition; this clashes with dogmatic assurances that extrasolar aliens would refrain from such childish behavior.)

Encounters with "Hopkinsville-type" beings demonstrate an undeniable commonality with both folkoric sources and the contemporary UFO phenomenon. Taken together, these inconvenient similarities force us to question the easy certainties that prevailed in the 1950s, when visiting space aliens seemed all-but-inevitable. "Limbo" cases like Hopkinsville allow us to assess the phenomenon in a brighter, less sullied light.

While one can argue endlessly in favor of a literal extraterrestrial interpretation, a holistic approach leads us to consider that the UFO intelligence not only wants to perpetuate itself via dramatic encounters with ostensible "occupants," but intends to discredit its own machinations: it stages exciting UFO events that infect both the research community and the popular imagination, knowing that the phenomenon's inherent absurdity will eventually undermine attempts to arrive at an indictment.

We're thus conditioned to accept the ETH one moment only to succumb to the "giggle factor" the next, never peering past the curtain to see the agenda behind the special effects. We're kept in a sort of amnesiac stupor, occasionally graced by visits from what can only be structured ET craft . . . and then deflated by the latest bizarre "occupant" report or account of "missing time."

Our infatuation with the unknown is systematically provoked and dismantled by a memetic campaign that's never less than astute in its grasp of human belief.

Here's a photo of an alleged alien. Yeah, it's probably a hoax. But for some reason I'm not writing this off quite yet. Perhaps it's because the "alien" is so unlike the dreary parade of bug-eyed "Grays" we've been conditioned to expect, or because of the figure's comical gait (both of which, strangely enough, argue against blatant fraud). If it's a fake -- which it probably is -- then at least it's an interesting one.

(Note: The "alien" in the photo bears a vague resemblance to the "Hopkinsville goblins." Greg Bishop knows what I'm talking about.)

(Lead: The Anomalist.)

Yet another clip of me talking about indigenous ufonauts:



For commentary by Paul Kimball, click here.

A must-see:

Edo-period kappa sketches

Although kappa are typically about the size of a child and greenish in color, they can vary widely in appearance. They frequently have a turtle-like shell and scaly skin, but sometimes their skin is moist and slick, or coated in fur. Most walk upright on their hind legs, but they are occasionally seen on all fours. Regardless of body type, the top of the kappa's head usually features a bowl-shaped depression containing water. The water inside this bowl is the source of the kappa's power.

Incidentally, this account of a UFO-like boat (complete with mysterious occupant) dates to the same period. Are we looking at the historical equivalent to Weekly World News? If so, the similarities to beings allegedly seen today are uncommonly striking.

(Big thanks to Pink Tentacle.)

Scientists assess DNA Hair sample from Human being apparently not from Earth

Suddenly, he bolted wide awake and sat up. There "were two humanoid females sitting on the bed, both entirely naked," says Peter Khoury.

"These two women looked human in nearly every way. They had well proportioned adult bodies. One looked somewhat Asian, with straight dark shoulder-length hair and dark eyes. The other looked "perhaps Scandinavian-like", with light-coloured ("maybe bluish") eyes and long blond hair that fell half-way down her back."

We should all be so lucky.

Longest underground river found

Cave divers in Mexico's Yucatan peninsula have discovered what may be the world's longest underground river, connecting two cave systems with a waterway at least 95 miles long.

A group of foreign divers exploring the area near the Caribbean beach resort of Playa del Carmen have yet to name the stretch, but believe it could be connected to two other major systems, adding more than 125 miles to its length.

I'm filing this under "cryptoterrestrials." Just because.

I'd been peripherally aware of William Michael Mott's speculation on indigenous humanoids but, until today, didn't realize just how closely our thoughts on the possibility converged.

Could it be I didn't come up with the Cryptoterrestrial Hypothesis after all? Apparently so. But as Mott points out, the meme is far older than both of us. Maybe the fact that we independently arrived at such similarly unfashionable ideas regarding the UFO enigma means we're onto something.

Author Mac Tonnies makes a case for 'cryptoterrestrials'

Kansas City writer Mac Tonnies isn't convinced contact with a UFO has anything to do with extraterrestrials. Tonnies, author of "After the Martian Apocalypse," said if UFOs and their crews exist, they may have come from right here on Earth.

The meme is alive.

Black Dogs and UFOs (Nick Redfern)

Indeed, he is of the firm opinion that ancient man - who certainly constructed the Castle Ring - had mental abilities that extended far beyond our own, and was able to essentially tap into other realms of existence, and construct "from the mind" images of bizarre and monstrous beasts that inhabited those same realms.

The possibility that ancient occultists could create thought-recordings is not without appeal. If Nick's hunch is correct, then it might even shed light on the "visionary" nature of some UFO reports. After all, if it's possible to conjure a "place memory" of fearsome canines, how difficult would it be to emplace visions of numinous disks and attendant "little people"?

Apparent Communication with Discarnate Entities Induced by Dimethyltryptamine (DMT)

Jamie Shandera And Proof Of UFOs (Pt. 2) (Greg Bishop)

On the UFO Coverup Live! special in 1988, one of the "Aviary" members (most likely Richard Doty or Robert Collins) appeared in silhouette with his voice electronically altered. Amongst pronouncements about the aliens' love for strawberry ice cream and Tibetan music, the mysterious AFOSI man told of a "book" that was given to us by the alien race. While an artist's conception flashed on the screen, he continued to describe the object as a sort of "crystal," which when gazed into, would show events of human and alien history. The "Yellow Book" as it was known, apparently directly interfaced with the user telepathically. (For some reason, it was also called the "Red Book," or there were two of them.)

Suppose Shandera really did get a chance to experience this device, as suggested in Greg's post. What was it? Its purported "telepathic" properties don't necessarily make it an alien artifact; it could just as easily have been a clever psy-ops ploy. Then again, maybe it really was the ET equivalent to a PDA . . .

Stories like this circulate endlessly in the Kafkaesque corridors of ufology, some obviously deluded and others less so. The 1980s generated a mythological substrate that lingers to this day, complete with evocative suggestions of crashed alien hardware and shadowy human-ET liaisons. Granted that we are, in all probability, interacting with some form of nonhuman intelligence, it's at best premature to rule out the possibility that the UFO intelligence itself has played a significant role in disseminating fanciful lies.





If the UFO intelligence is indigenous to this planet, then the pronounced extraterrestrial flavor of so many of our most hallowed (if controversial) beliefs may be an attempt to convince us the answer to the UFO riddle lies somewhere in the stars.

So we gaze upward in wonder and fear while the phenomenon continues -- unabated and overlooked.