Please Don’t Crash: A Ufological Scenario and One Other Thing You Won’t Like

This blog is being fueled by Tangerine Dream’s live Ricochet album, for which I’ve provided a link on my Twitter account. I was a high-school junior when I saw this tour in Cleveland, Ohio, back in that oh-so-psychedelic year of 1975. If you weren’t hanging out in the Metro Park smoking dope, blasting Hawkwind, Black Sabbath, Pink Floyd, etc., you weren’t One of Us. Don’t feel bad. We didn’t know who we were either, but knew what sounded good, freely partying away with no Internet, cell phones, cable TV, or terrorists (at least to our limited minds). The Woodstock T-shirts were beginning to fade, and the park rangers would come by on horses: “Take your dope and beer and get out.” No arrests; no frisking: no nothing. We were in charge. Do I miss those times? What do you think?…

This period was filled with UFO reports–many in Ohio. Especially the 1973 “Coyne Encounter,” after Major Larry Coyne, present in an Army helicopter over Mansfield that had a near collision with a cylindrical UFO and its green beam which purportedly pulled the vehicle upward before vanishing. These men, as reported in newspapers and on TV, were in fear for their lives. 1973 was at the end of a UFO “wave,” a country-wide invasion, if you will. I’m not going to speculate whether this UFO might have been a military prototype, or early stealth vehicle. For one, we’ll never know. For two, with Wright-Patterson nearby in Dayton, almost all UFO reports in Ohio have to be considered with a nod in that direction. And the whole “Military intelligence wouldn’t dare be so reckless to test prototypes over populated regions” doesn’t cut it. Sure they would. Even more so these days, when unmanned aerial platforms need to calibrate sensors to detect all manner of chemical, biological, radioactive, etc., sources. This might go some way to “explain” the so-called absurd maneuvers of huge (and small) triangular UFOs seen over bodies of water and cities. Simply, you can’t know whether your machine works until you test it in the real world. The old UFO cover-story is always there to provide complete deniability–unless, of course, said deniable craft crashes, which seems not to have happened yet.

What if there was a crash?

Here’s a scenario, based on my fiction-writing, I can get behind. Actually, I don’t need that. Let’s say some big vehicle comes down (with or without “civilian” casualties on the ground). The first reports would assume an airliner crash–reporters on the scene faster than you can brew a cup of Italian roast. Live on TV and the Net: “We’re kind of mystified…the debris doesn’t look like a jetliner, but the scatter is huge…” Coin-toss as to who would get there first, really: media or military. I’m guessing media–a lot of them. Then military, who (assuming a classified vehicle) would almost certainly have to cordon off the site. What would they say? Bad press indeed to show hostility: “Get outta here. This is a secure site!” This would only attract more media. At this juncture, the military point-person either must admit this was “one of ours” or lie and claim it was a foreign intrusion, i.e., “terrorists.”

Now, unable to completely black out the area, what would military intelligence do? They could seal the site, but there are hobbyists with homemade drones who would be more than happy to check things out. And would. Nothing these days can be completely hidden–for good or ill, whether you want to see or not. The wreckage might appear “alien.” Conspiracy mongers would go ape-shit. So would I–but not for that reason. Military intell almost certainly would have to put the blame on terrorists–and would probably hate the necessity, because this would mean failure to secure our airspace…which should be impossible. But 9/11 happened. And while I don’t see any genuine evidence for conspiracy on America’s behalf, there are a lot of inexplicable matters regarding the time lapses of getting fighter jets in the air, etc.

I would be naive to assume this scenario has not been considered by military intelligence. It has to have been. Unfortunately, this still leaves unanswered the mystery of who exactly is flying the so-called black triangles. Since I’m 99% against the ET hypothesis, this lingers uneasily in my mind. Probably I ought to be thinking of matters more important, like why certain people, instead of turning away from what offends them, choose to kill the offenders over snarky comic-book bullshit–but it just happened. More and more, human activity is incomprehensible to me. Worse, I see a capacity in us to not only adjust to such catastrophic horror, but to instantly find some way to profit from it. “If only I’d known my son was involved in this,” I hear the distraught mother on NPR, “I would’ve stopped him. Let’s get together and stop our kids from embracing this terrorist insanity.” Send money now, and count on the book that’ll certainly be written. Or subscribe to some website with the same message. Whatever.

My question: Where were you when your “kid” got into this shit, lady or sir?

I’m as confused and afraid as you, but I see a trend developing where the line between reportage and reality grows ever blurrier, smug, and cold. Bullies shoving each other in a global playground: “Oh yeah! Watch this! You won’t believe how much I’m gonna fuck you up, pal!”

What I hate–yes, hate–is my own growing incomprehension. Are we not all human? The people carrying out these horrific attacks certainly view themselves as human, but intolerant of those who disagree with them. We need never fear a technological “singularity,” i.e., a Terminator rise of the machines. Some of us have become machines–“moral” machines. We can’t honestly point a finger anywhere, when every day is an exhausting race between damage control and complacency. Brilliant people with vision are bought out to give us better weapons, instead of more peaceful practical visions. True enough, though: you can only buy what’s being offered for sale. Ignore the ingredients and package warnings.

Guess I got off the UFO topic pretty quickly, eh? Maybe next time.

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