She's Back!!!!! :The Debris Field: My Black Eyed Child Dream

After a few years of being gone from the Fortean blogosphere, Lesley Gunter has returned to blogging at her blog The Debris Field.



Speaking of dreams (see my post below) Lesley had one about the BEK:  The Debris Field: My Black Eyed Child Dream

Scream-Singing at the Sky

Another strange dream of aliens the other night. This one contains one of my many dreamscapes, or "stage sets" -- recurring locations, with a new scene. The recurring dreamscape is of a large, rustic, two story building. A combination of house and school, apartments, conference rooms, theater. Large but also comfy. Some people live and work here, some just live here, others just work. The added element is the ocean -- I dream of oceans all the time, but this time, this house/school was on a small island on the ocean.

A group of us are standing outside, at night, looking up at the starry sky. The sky is full of stars! Aliens descend. Between six and seven feet tall, humanoid looking but with a very slight reptilian look. The aliens are greenish-black. Nasty bastards. Very nasty. 

They attack us. They're very intelligent; more so than us. But they're vindictive thugs. We fight back, but we're losing. These aliens come and go. They'll arrive, attack, then leave for a few days, then they're back. They mostly come from outside but now and then, as we're going about our business inside, one will just appear from nowhere -- like a ghost -- and be intimidating, aggressive. 

After a couple of weeks of this, I am fed up. I am in a small amphitheater on the stage (theater in the round kind of thing) and many of the residents are in the audience. I just stand there, look up at the night sky, and scream. I mean, scream. A long scream that also is a song. I know I have a lousy singing voice (true) but I don't care. It feels powerful to do this. As I stand there, screaming-singing, one long drawn out note, a beam of yellowish-white light shines out from within me and into the sky. 

This is pissing off the aliens. They do not like this one bit. My "song" and beam of light keeps them at bay. I tell the audience that "if I can do it, you can too." I encourage them to try. Doesn't matter if you know how to sing, or don't know what to do, just start.  

People start to do this, and it keeps the nasty aliens away. For the most part. Every once in awhile, one appears but we can now defend ourselves with our scream-songs and beams of light.

Remembering: The Mandela Effect

Roy Horne was a guest on Coast to Coast a few nights ago, discussing "The Mandela Effect." Interesting concept; that we misremember things. It goes deeper than that however. For example, Horne references our memory of the J.C. Penny brand. Except, it's not J.C. Penny, it's J.C. Penney.
Most, including myself, remember the name as Penny, not Penney. I've looked at that brand name for decades -- we used to shop there frequently when I was a kid -- grew up around that name. And yet, many of us do not see the name as it really is.

I fell asleep during the program, so don't know if this was mentioned, but a similar false memory concerns obituaries of the famous. Many times I've come across the obituary of a well known actor and was amazed, because I know I had read five, ten, three, whatever number of years ago, that this same person had died. Not only that, others around me when hearing of these deaths would say the same thing; that they know they read so and so died a few years ago. They, and I, even remember where we were when reading the obit, and how we felt upon reading it.

Adding to this memory oddness, is my memory of Marshall McLuhan's The Medium is the Message. And indeed, that is what McLuhans intention is: that the medium is message. It is a familiar phrase. Except, the title is actually The Medium is the Massage. Which makes more sense. The medium is indeed the "massage" massaging us every day with disinformation, trivial and frivolous "news," and propaganda disguised as feel good platitudes verging on the religious -- and the right religion at that. Yet, the title was a misprint; it wasn't intended to be "massage" but "message." Either way, few remember the title as appears in print.

Orange Orb, Silver Sphere

Aside from my writing about UFOs and the paranormal, supernatural realms in general, I also write fiction, poetry, prose. (If so inclined, you can visit my fragments, found blog.) I rarely write about the fringe, anomalous stuff in my fiction life, but, occasionally I do come up with something. Here's a prose-poem I wrote recently about UFOs:

an orange orb, silver sphere

follows, hovers

beam of light

dreams follow:

paralyzed, silent screams

beams of light, again, so bright-white, vision transcends the norm.

awareness of cognizance, familiarity from the Other and yet, 

memory plays tricks, 

missing time, a lost drive begun

on a late summer afternoon.

waiting for a friend, a heavy sudden wind in the woods, a no show.

finding ourselves back home, hours later . . .

watching the orb stop, hover, drop in a neighbor's yard.

Do I follow? Call an authority? Instead, I dream 

of orbs and spheres, lights 

and enormous spinning shields above my head.

something intelligent, aware, knowing, follows, 

tracks my journeys on the astral.

so what? where? who, how, why?

questions, decades later, answers

evade.

Space Brother Love? Nah

New post at the Orange Orb on WordPress blog: Space Brother Love. . . (the answer is no.)

"We've Been Following You"

Another weird and uncomfortable alien-UFO dream; and I wonder why, since I hadn't been thinking (consciously) about the topic, nor am I currently reading anything about aliens. I wasn't even listing to Coast to Coast as I drifted off. 

I'm back at the house I grew up in. Daytime. I'm in the front yard, there are these strange gray rectangle things, about seven feet tall and three feet wide. These things are hovering, floating, just a foot or so off the ground. Some of them are more rounded than others, more cylinder like. In fact, they are awfully close to my "cylinder alien" I would see in my bedroom in the house we lived in before we moved here.  

I am bothered by their presence. I don't like them here. I say, out loud, "Hey, wait a minute, what are you doing here anyway? I saw you years ago at the other house, not here." I pause, and add:"And there was only one of you. Why are there so many of you now?" They tell me that they know all about the other house (they were snarky things!) and that they've been following me. "Yeah? Well, I haven't seen you!" I say, as if that will solve everything. They tell me that I hadn't been able to see them. A combination of them not waiting me to see them, and me not being able to. But now the veil's been lifted.  

I don't like this much. I didn't ask for anything to be lifted!  

Now, aside from these bobbing gray things, there are ducks on the lawn. But these ducks are ugly. They're an olive green color, and very large. Larger than a large goose! As I watch them, the ducks morph into a sort of alligator type creature before getting bigger and completely reptilian. As in Reptilian. Shape shifting ducks.  

The message from these Reptilian aliens is that they can change form and appear as different animals; when we think we see a deer, etc. it often is just a cover for the Reptilian presence. 

Fringe Implosions

Strange things going on in not only UFO Land, but the realm of the fringe as well.

We had the racist, sexist comments from John Ventre, the MUFON state director, as well as the initial apathetic reaction from MUFON itself.

Stan Romanek, UFO alien witness, or, alien gray in the window hoaxer, has been charged with being in possession of child pornography.  

Sean David Morton busted for tax fraud. 

David Paulides, author of the Missing 411 books, has upset many with his prima donna act, as well as, according to some, his research methods. (I had my own little drama with him and I regret being a nice girl and giving into his demands.)

And the latest: New Age angel and tarot writer Doreen Virtue has become born again in the Christian faith, and has turned against the tarot, and other oracles, as sinful occult tools.  (I will write more on Virtue on my tarot blog.)

None of this is really a surprise. This metaphysical field -- and I include UFOs in that term -- has always had its share of the dishonest, child molesters (look at all the would be cult leader guru types; a large percentage are either horny jerks, or pedophiles), frauds and egomaniacs.

Because of this truth, none of these areas, including UFOs, will be taken seriously -- respectfully -- by mainstream culture, including its institutions.

It's up to us to denounce these fools, creeps and cheaters because no one else will. Instead, these fools, creeps and cheaters will be held up to the mainstream as justification for mockery and marginlization.

These sad, cheesy events do not negate the reality of UFOs, angels, the tarot, spirits, remote viewing, or conspiracies and strange disappearances. So we need to keep exposing the dishonest (and not keep fighting amongst ourselves about what's worthy of investigation, and what isn't.) Some of the individuals involved are to be tossed out, obviously --tossed, shown up, exposed, and not tolerated -- but it's important we don't, as the saying goes, throw the baby out with the bathwater.

UFO Haiku . . .

I've been quiet lately, around UFO Land. Not much to say -- others usually say it much better than I.

MUFON's imploded. Stan Romanek has been found guilty of child pornography.

My lack of posting on my blogs isn't due to lack of activity in any of the paranormal/anomalous fields. And it's not because I've given up, -- there's nothing to "give up." It's not a question of giving up. I'm not bored with any of this. How could I be? How could one be bored with experiencing missing time and seeing odd objects and entities? Hell no, I'm not bored.

Just… sometimes I really don't have much to say in this realm. Also, it's summer, and the air is crappy here in the Willamette Valley (Valley of Sickness) with the wildfires everywhere. Recharging. Focusing on other things, for a bit.

But giving up. Never. Bored. Don't be silly.

Almost all of my blogs are UFO and paranormal related. Bigfoot, Mothman, etc. But one blog is devoted to fiction. Poetry, prose. So here are two UFO haiku I wrote recently:

she didn't believe

such things could be happening  --

brilliant orange orbs

Some say missing time

is the mental state unhinged

and some, know better

A Shared Experience . . . Maybe

At my Orange Orb blog on Word Press, this update -- of a sorts -- on a piece I wrote for my Trickster's Realm column at Tim Binnall's Binnall of America. Donavan Concert: A Shared Experience, Maybe.

Nick Redfern; A Contactee or a Victim of Mind-Control? | Mysterious Universe

A Contactee or a Victim of Mind-Control? | Mysterious Universe: While some may disagree, Angelucci’s tale bears all the hallmarks of someone taking a long and winding trip of the definitively chemical kind and after taking a drink. Angelucci stated that the previously innocuous restaurant was now “transformed into a cozy retreat on some radiant star system.” Needless to say, this is not the experience that most people report upon taking a gulp or several of a drink in the average diner. “Added beauty and meaning” were suddenly given to all-things around Angelucci, as his radically-transformed mind begins to excitedly navigate previously uncharted realms. He heard captivating music that prompted him to comment: “No sound could be so enchanting unless played by some skilled musician.” (Redfern, Mysterious Universe)

Redfern suggests that some contactees, such as Angelucci, were not literally in contact with aliens from space, but victims of mind control by our own. I have no doubt. This doesn't negate aliens, or non-human entities milling about, but I agree with Nick that mind control experiments were responsible for some of the UFO experiences reported. MILABS (military abductions) staged alien-UFO scenarios. This theory doesn't make a lot of researchers happy. But, it's worth considering.

Childhood Memories: An Obvious Connection in the Pattern

You'd think that, after a life time of exploring my own UFO and anomalous  experiences, as well as the experiences of others, I'd recognize the obvious. Which is, a pattern, a connection, between locations. For example:

I was thinking, for some unknown reason --  just my mind going back -- to my "giant eagle" experience. This happened when I was about four, maybe three, and in the house on Corning St. in Los Angeles. It's my first memory of something weird and powerful -- nope. (That happened even earlier, in another house a few blocks from the Corning St. house.)

The second memory, a year or so later, very different in many ways: what was seen, as well as what I felt. But, it also happened in the house on Corning St. In the first Corning St. experience, I felt incredible awe and joy, no fear. The second, I felt fear and anger.

Before those two experiences, were two odd experiences in the house we lived in before Corning St. One memory: a giant metal cylinder type of thing, coming towards me at night, while I was in bed, frightened. Strange ribbon like things, like colorful tendrils, waved out at me as this thing floated towards me.

The second memory, looking outside my bedroom window at night, because I heard Santa's reindeer bells on the roof. Except, it wasn't December. And in both memories, I remember me being on the second floor, where my bedroom was. Of course -- yes you guessed it -- there was no second floor.

In later years, I assumed my cylinder memory was of a heater in the bedroom. But my mother insisted, when I told her of this experience, that there was no heater or object of any kind she could think of in that room.

In our third house (again, just a block or two from the other homes) more experiences. One, dancing with my friends -- the invisible aliens. I didn't call them aliens at the time, but I knew they weren't human. For one thing, they didn't look human. About my size (four feet or so) transparent, spindly things. The other experience: many times, floating out through the doors and walls, assisted by these same invisible beings, where'd I wait outside, at night, for "them" to come and take me on up. (Oh, and then there is the parallel experience of the "fuzzy puppet wolves" where my husband had a similar childhood experience.) One more: when my mother, excited, called out to us because she was witnessing a UFO in the sky. No one believed her, except me. Disappointed the UFO zipped off, my mother was watching, hoping it would return.  I told her (she insisted I said this, I don't remember) not to worry, it will come back, for "they always come back," I said.

Eight very different memories, in three locations. As different as these memories are, they share a nagging feeling that somehow, as bizarre as they may seem, they are connected.

Repeated "failures"

Success is stumbling from failure to failure without losing enthusiasm. ~ David Guy Power

I lifted the above quote from today's The Daily Grail (always an excellent site.) 

I like this quote because it can be applied to the never ending search for what is behind UFOs. Some consider this search to be non-productive, since we haven't found The Big Answer. Not just non-productive, but, a failure. Still spinning our collective wheels, staying in one place.

Others, like myself, don't consider the journey a failure. It's a process, never ending (so far, and most likely will always be) but that is all right. 

UFOs is a broad term. What UFOs are we talking about, as we go along, searching? There are clearly numerous types of UFOs; some connected to each other, sharing a goal, an origin, some not having anything to do with the other. If finding an answer that will satisfy for one type of UFO, that still leaves many more types that have not been explained.

Is UFOlogy Dead?: Do We Even Want to Ask?

(cross posted at my blog Women of Esoterica)


Noticing a lot of UFO pundits posing the question: is ufology dead? Oy. Here we go again. This question gets asked every now and then. The question raises another question: Why does one believe UFOlogy is "dead" in the first place? A lack of, … what, that causes one to ask the question.

And maybe UFOlogy isn't "dead" so much as it is dormant. Like the Phoenix, it rises again, renewed.

Classic cases remain unsolved. The whole thing remains unsolved. As in, what are they, who are they, what do they want, how are we connected . . .

Because the questions are unanswered -- at least to a global community agreement -- some consider UFOlogy as "dead."

Things change, while remaining the same. True of all, certainly of the UFO realm. Maybe what's "dead" is us, not "it." We're not asking the right questions, we're still eating our own, and stubbornly clinging to assumptions. We're still drawing lines in the sand about what is all right to consider, and what is too far out, kooky, embarrassing.

Throwing Down with Tina Sena at Binnall

Been a long time since I've written anything for Tim Binnall's site. Here it is.
Women, do NOT give up!

MUFON's Inner Circle.

Kevin Randle has a piece on MUFON's Inner Circle: A Different Perspective: MUFON, Racism and Dodging the Questions.

Another huge WTF moment in the continuing sleazy saga that is MUFON these days.

For some time, MUFON, as an institution, been very suspect. MUFON began (one assumes) with good intentions on bringing a respectable and acceptable, light regarding UFOs to the masses. Excluding the more embarrassing witness narratives of course.

Then the strange relationship with cagey and coy millionaire Bigelow, John Ventre's racism, and now, the Inner Circle, where, for five thousand dollars, you can join. Members include JZ Knight. Yes, that JZ Knight, keeper of the entity known as Ramtha.

Oy.

Kevin Randle has written a good piece and thanks to him for putting this out there.