Mutant Self-Cloning Crayfish Attacks Europe!

An item for animal Forteana --  this item about a self cloning crayfish:

This Mutant Crayfish Clones Itself, and It’s Taking Over Europe - The New York Times: Before about 25 years ago, the species simply did not exist. A single drastic mutation in a single crayfish produced the marbled crayfish in an instant.

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TRILOBITES
Somehow, This Fish Fathered a Near Clone of Itself MAY 26, 2017
RECENT COMMENTS

Fred Hochenedel February 6, 2018
Are they good to eat?
David Williams February 6, 2018
Why no discussion of eating them?
Malifex February 6, 2018
The official word is Crawfish. And don't give me no lip about "crevisse" or crevice or cravass. Here in NJ they are sold at Chinese... The mutation made it possible for the creature to clone itself, and now it has spread across much of Europe and gained a toehold on other continents. In Madagascar, where it arrived about 2007, it now numbers in the millions and threatens native crayfish.

Apologies to Jack Brewer and James Clarkson

Bad blogger! Not good at details, and had forgotten all about my comments setting here on blogger. Somehow I stumbled on the "awaiting moderation" section, and saw two comments had been left. One from Jack Brewer at
UFO Trail, the other from researcher and ex-MUFON director James Clarkson. From months ago. Then I try to post them to the blog but somehow, deleted those comments entirely. Just don't want either of the two very nice and respected gentlemen to think I blithely ignored their comments.

Book Reviewers: We Want ANSWERS!

After reading dozens and dozens of book reviews of various paranormal and UFO books, I noticed that many of those giving negative reviews were coming from one of two places. One, some were uber-skeptic debunkers and didn't have much to say other than shouting BUNK! The other seems to be a deep seated irritation that the author didn't give an answer to what UFOs are, or aliens, or ghosts, or Mothman, or MIB, or Sasquatch . . . Impatient with the author's exploring many theories instead of just one, the reviewer then gives the book a negative review based on the lack of an answer to the mystery being explored.

When I pick up a book on UFOs, the paranormal, cryptids, or other anomalous areas, I don't expect an answer. For one thing, it's only the writer's opinion -- it's never THE BIG ANSWER. Can't be. If it were, the world would be a different place. Paradigms would be shifted. Turned upside down. Inside out. So I don't expect a book to give me an answer, because it can't. All a writer can do is give their perspective.  Which is enough for me.

I read these books because of my intense interest in the subjects. I like to hear the narratives of others, find patterns, relate experiences to my own, discover what the author thinks. Which is different than giving us an answer.

When it comes to the world of the weird, our 'Goblin Universe' -- we might have some provocative physical evidence (that doesn't prove anything, just leaves us with tantalizing hints) but pretty much, we have mountains of witness reports. Anecdotal evidence. Which is not worthless at all. Within that data one can find patterns, connections, synchronicities, parallels and similarities to one's own experiences, historical information. Which then can lead us to develop our own ideas. Inspire us. Encourage us to keep studying. Compare with other works in the same field.

It's the writer's job to be honest (I do expect that!), respectful of witnesses, and to present his or her data clearly. Each writer has their own style and tone, and it's a matter of personal taste for the reader to decide which they prefer. (Myself, I like a variety; as long as I think the writer is ethical.)

But the rest is up to the reader. Hopefully the reader is inspired and motivated to seek more on her own. Not be fed easy answers to mysteries that have remained with us for centuries. No one book can do that, and I don't expect any one book to do that.

It's Happening on the Astral

Still reading Thom Powell's Edge of Science. So last night, this dream:

I'm looking up at the daytime sky, watching a plane that is behaving very oddly. It's not a modern plane but something from a 1940s movie. Far more weirdly, it's stationary. Impossible for an airplane to just be perfectly still in the air, but that's what's happening. I call for others to come out and look, but by the time they get outside and look up, it's too late. The plane had covered itself with a cloud. I watched it do this -- gather some sort of material together around itself to make it look like a cloud. But in the center of this 'cloud' it's very bright. I explain this to everyone but they don't believe me. They point and say "See? It's just a cloud."  

I tell them to be patient and keep looking, but they go back inside. Of course now the cloud is gone and the plane is back. It keeps trying to get the cloud back but it's having trouble maintaing the cloud. Then I notice a glitch -- the plane morphs into a classic saucer shaped UFO, but just for a second. Then back to the plane.

I call everyone out again, but same response. They look, don't see anything, don't wait around, disbelieve me, go back. 

After awhile, the plane switches back to its saucer and I realize this thing is a flying saucer! Damn. The saucer comes closer -- much closer. Much larger. No fooling around now, no attempt to disguise itself, to more hiding. It's out and here and so now, everyone believes me. But it's too late.

The saucer is taking people up. Mostly children up to the age of nineteen, but a few adults as well. I'm one of them.

The inside of the saucer is set up to look like a typical human home, but some details aren't right. Curtains as rugs. An easy chair in the kitchen, a stove in the living room. Things like that. They didn't quite get the whole picture. 

The few adults here are to keep on eye on things, though we have no authority or power and we never see the aliens, just sense their presence. 

The children remain children, physically, but they're been made into adults by the aliens. Adult thinking, adult minds, -- at first the children (now adults but in children's bodies) love this. Then they realize it's not much fun. After a couple of weeks, the aliens drop us all back on earth, and the children are children again. They did not like being adults at all.  

And as we're coming back to earth, I hear a message from the aliens about Sasquatch. That yes, they do have something to do with all that. But what, they will not reveal.

Powell writes about the "mystical" aspects of Sasquatch encounters, but I'm not at the heart of the book yet. Last night I was reading about the London tracks (Cottage Grove area, Oregon.) Researcher Toby Johnson and others with him had intense experiences that transcended a mere flesh and blood explanation for Sasquatch. Which had me thinking about my own experiences  -- not having seen a Sasquatch, not even close --  but still a coupe of highly odd experiences related to Sasquatch. Before drifting off to sleep I was thinking of those, and of  all my experiences, particularly UFOs and how, just when I thought I had hit a wall these past couple of years, I've expanded my thinking to include the astral, or inter-dimensional, or whatever you want to call it. We have to go beyond nuts and bolts and flesh and blood.

'Belluminati', Pentagon UFO News

I know I'm not the only one who's noticed the new Taco Bell commercial:

Timing is interesting, and of course my conspiratorial oriented mind sees high strangeness with the juxtapositions of the Solstice season, Trump's tax cuts, and the Pentagon releasing the latest batch of UFO information.

As for the commercial, sure it's advertising just goofing on a trend, but those of us living in fringe world can't help but sense there's more to it than just pop culture appropriation of us fringe dwellers.

Neil deGrasse Tyson gives take on UFO video

Really not worth getting riled up over this; it's not a surprise. Still, calling out the ignorance, just in case it does a dash of good.  Neil deGrasse Tyson gives take on UFO video

GASPING NEWS: UFOS ARE REAL!!!!

Where's that banging my head on the desk cartoon? Oh, here it is:

UFOs are real. Call them UFOs, UAPS, -- they're real. UFO means Unidentified Flying Object. Could be theirs, ours, or theirs…you know, Reptilian Overlords.  Specifically, they are pretty likely to be all three. Some are ours, some are the other guys, some are truly mysterious. Unexplained. ET. All at once, all vying for our attention distraction.

So the announcements are made, and the majority argue over the minutiae of what UFOs are, as if UFO is one thing. One explanation for what UFO is, as well as its motivation.

Meanwhile, the truth (most of it anyway) is out there and in our faces, mixed up with a lot other stuff. Misdirection. Allowing the arguments to continue.
The deeper issues continue to be ignored. Even with the concession that off world intelligent beings are hanging around, it's still a vague idea to many. Bills still need to be paid. We still have family issues, health, jobs. Aliens, cool, but, doesn't pay the rent.

The truth is, many people -- myself included -- have had intensely weird experiences that cannot be explained, no matter how hard debunkers, Big Science, religious know it alls, or fanatical true believers try their damnedest to Explain It All To Us. Behind the mundane goings on, these experiences remain. And meanwhile. . .

There is the issue of concurrent UFO activity, which is indeed ours. Whether it's the U.S.A. or another government, covert, often illegal and unethical experiments are conducted within the framework of 'UFO.' Not many seem to pay attention to either. The former is indulgent kook stuff, the latter is a shrug and dismissal, as if simply stating the obvious: "Military experiments" is enough to get on with things. Not recognizing that the implications of those experiments are huge.

We are spied on, tracked,lied to, treated like lab rats. Both the "other" and our own do these things to us -- and many of us don't seem to notice much.

Tom DeLonge's To The Stars: Well, I Suppose I Should Say Something

Tom DeLonge recently announced a new UFO organization: To The Stars Academy of Arts and Science. I'm not excited. I even don't care. Is this due to boredom or frustration on my part? No.

I am not bored, not by any means, by the Great UFO Quest. But cynical -- not about "the quest" but about a new organization -- maybe. A little.

I remember DeLonge on Coast to Coast, where he discussed his meetings with Very Important UFO-in-the-Know People. A lot of it dark, and scary; images of giant Reptilians eating us for lunch. (Not that DeLonge alluded to that, specifically, but one couldn't help conjuring up images of really awful things during the interview.)

We've seen UFO organizations go down. Or become outdated. Sullied. (i.e. recent MUFON goings on.) Each new UFO group has its personal agenda. That's okay -- if I had an organization, I'd have my own agenda as well. But it's important to keep in mind that that's all it is; an agenda. This group will not tolerate Sasquatch telepathic communications involving UFOs, that group will not tolerate contactees, another group won't consider abductions, etc.

I remain convinced that nothing will get "the truth" out to the people. When I say "people" I'm including all of humanity, all over the globe. So that's a pretty damn big number. Following that, are the governments. Everyone has to be on board. What are the chances of that happening? No big disclosure. Not now, not ever.

However, every day, there are thousands of little disclosures. That's what we need to continue to accept, explore, hear, trust in, and share.

Not Bored, Haven't Given Up

"Tweeted" on Twitter that I am not bored, and have not given up, with the subject of UFOs. How could I? I've just been . . . resting during the journey. I have been quiet in UFO Land, but that doesn't mean I haven't been following all that's been going on, and thinking deep thoughts.

Also, I do have a day job, one I love doing but has nothing to do with anything UFO, cryptid, Fortean, or weird. I am off for the summer but return to work in late August, so things have been very busy. My health and work also keep me from writing as much as I'd like.

But something about Fall -- no doubt Halloween vibes in the chilly frosty air -- is inspiring, and I feel that things are about to happen.

So don't give up on me. Because I haven't.

At Phantoms and Monsters: Reptilian Mermen Abduction

The following has everything this Fortean gal loves: reptilians, (blue, too!), mermen, the Black Sea, abductions. From Lon Strickler at his Phantoms and Monters site:

Phantoms and Monsters: Pulse of the Paranormal: One day in 1995 at mid morning a local resident of Sudak in the Crimea named Georgiy, walked to an embankment on the Black Sea for a breath of sea air. With a goblet of beer with him he stepped down to the sand and watched the horizon. It was a calm and beautiful day. Suddenly something sneaked up to him from behind and put a rubber mask on his head, Georgiy struggles and grabs the mask under his chin and pulled it off, thinking it was some kind of stupid prank. But in the next second he found himself amid a huge hall, he could neither see the sea or beach or sky. (Phantoms and Monsters)

The story goes on of course. Many things about this tale are interesting, including the parallels to contactee encounters with "aliens."

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.)