|Cover, Howard Menger's From Outer Space To You (1959)|
The message is . . . well, doesn't seem to be a message. I've had telepathic communications with UFOs and "aliens." Nothing profound however. Or even silly, as in, no alien ever wanted to exchange pancakes recipes. All they did was say, in each encounter, "We're here!" Literally. Just letting me know they know that I know that they're about. Often verified by other witnesses, so, nice of "them" to confirm and not have me think I'm crazy. But after that, nothing. No Space Visitor messages of universal love, no gentle chidings to start healing the planet before it's too late, no pedantic monologues about the workings of energy, vibrations, and how the flying saucer engines work.
Life long experiences, going back to childhood. Shared events; such as with my husband. (His, also going back to childhood.) Messages of personal confirmation. Why haven't I been told of cures for illness or given a message to spread to all of humanity? What about my recipe for pancakes? But maybe the message is -- as indeed I've been told many times by these invisible entities -- that the "message" is, simply, their existence.
They are here. That's not debatable. What more do you want?