Chapter 4

T-Bird Meets The Phoenix

On Sept. 4, 1990, AAA, MT and several of the T-Bird staff went to Arizona to attend the National New Age and Alien Agenda Conference. AAA rarely leaves her room; MT hasn’t been out of the state in 19 years—but for reasons which will become apparent in this and the installments to come, they did not want to miss this one; for, as Holmes would say to Watson, “Come, my good fellow—I can tell the mind of Moriarty is at work here. The game’s afoot!”

We Go to the Tim Beckley National New Age and Alien Agenda Conference [Chapter 1]

by MT

 

The world isn’t what you think it is.

Unless of course you’ve always thought that “Through The Looking Glass” is a documentary description of the way things are, that every official science and social-study is a “tale told by an idiot”; unless you’ve always thought that secret societies, hidden governments and controlling families hold the keys of power while everything’s intentionally oriented in the wrong direction, unless you’ve always thought that conventional interpretations of reality were a deliberately administered drug, doping into a collective dream so that ineffectual gestures cast shadows on a wall that accordingly moves but by means of cables concealed behind; and that those cables extend down old abandoned elevator shafts and derelict mines into tunneled phantasmagorias that effectually honeycomb the Earth’s insides hiding cavernous fortresses, halls of civilizations “lost” and exotic armamentariums where refugees from unknown eras of the planet’s surface mingle with inter­dimensional mercenaries, and every manner of being from beyond the parochial framework capable of streaming the proper—dimensional—pockets formed in the seals of the Earth’s concentric “centers”; unless you’ve always thought that from such sealed centers, the various influences of divers agencies are sent to the surface on beams of technical magic generating stresses in our psychic atmospheres according to some desire to accelerate or retard the evolutionary development of the consciousness on the crust; unless you’ve always thought that, through the interaction of such criss-cross rays there convened the secret histories behind all pasteboard fictions—the basic Unity in the mock “plurality” of powers detectable at those blurred seams of conspiratorial overlap where certain officers of the mundane order always hold concurrent—if camouflaged—posts upon interlocking boards of “occult” directorates through which the kingmakers are actually anointed, the secret governments silently installed…unless you’ve always thought that those subterraneous forces fight an ongoing battle for the hearts and minds of uncommitted man toward the time accordingly prepared when there would either be a sufficiency of corresponding substance to actualize the birth of Conscious freedom or to materialize that eldritch vision, the return to daylight consciousness of the twilight armies of the Elder Race—the emergence into mundane history of the Old Ones of the Night of Time…unless of course you’ve always thought it was something like that.

Otherwise, you’ve got quite a surprise coming.

*     *     *

Indeed as we of the winged T-Bird floated over the forested, two-lane Arizona highway in our rented van, detouring to catch the Canyon in a sheer gauze of rain while making our angular route to Phoenix and the “Tim Beckley Annual UFO Convention”—miles and outstretched miles across that reminiscent ribbon of blacktop beneath beaming arches of a double rainbow, L.A. behind in a rapidly-dissipating dream of departure through a smokering shroud—it felt as if one could be perfectly at peace with any tidy version of America, any hallowed parchment in an empty gallery…

It all seemed perfectly permissible since this was the storybook version, these unspoiled hills and diamond skies—any retrogressive estimate, any gradeschool atavism molded again to manageable proportions and all ringed ’round with the safely-habitable, politely conformable world would suffice and survive in an atmosphere so equal to the simplicity such sentiment required; all could be sustained without subscribing to a single thing. Here in this very place if anywhere at all that ultimate vision of man’s politicized peace could find its suitably pastoral correlative—here in the very place where in fact it was most perfectly belied…

It was all like a typical Hitchcock movie—opening shots of a bucolic American burg clean as the angle on a T-square and background music belonging to Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood—but wait, that set-up innocence is by now dead giveaway that there’s something rotten, basically awful lurking just below the kodachrome surface! The now-famous Lynch would continue a brain-damaged version of such a theme as the ’80s slouched toward the inevitable ’90s, rendering the whole wholesome scene as a surreal commercial skimming over the happy hamlet on the camera-wing of a golden oriole, over treetops and firehouse and across leaf-rustled schoolyard dropping softly on a garden beneath the sunny shale of which, lifted just a little, we see a crawling beetle in the bright-green blades, and leveraged a little more so as to rip up some of the overgrown slipgrass we begin to see first signs of real vermin…and as the rock is peeled back like the back of a skull from a rotted corpse the whole miasmal swarm of centipedes and maggot-brood overspills in soundtrack amplification like the munching of a million mites on gristle…

So one muses while taking in the pine and scented cedar of whistle-clean Flagstaff (that evening, indeed, first glimpse at the paper in the motel room…two girls attacked by unknown assailant on that very highway, where the roadsigns like abandoned Burma-shave boards warn: Prison Zone; don’t pick up hitchhikers).

Even as the lovely, meditative miles spooled off from that veritable ribbon of two-lane one couldn’t help but consider how far it all was from the spirit of Easy Rider which it nonetheless evoked…indeed “What a long strange trip it’s been”! One recalled that most famous of celluloid scenes from the ’60s, in which Hopper and Fonda gleefully conspire to get Jack Nicholson’s straight-Southern-lawyer stoned for the first time beneath a wooded American night-sky, and Nicholson proceeds to take them on a trip as he loosens up and begins the celebrated soliloquy as to how those satellites are often saucers in disguise and how the spacepeople have been monitoring this planet for ages—one remembered the dream-lidded dubiety of Hopper’s “Billy”, and Fonda’s progressive facial register of his trademark “far out…”

Suppose, in our collectively stoned condition, the scene doesn’t stop there but goes right straight on—in an exponentially paranoic time-ellipse—as Nicholson keeps puffing and proclaims “yes, and not only have the spacebeings been monitoring us but they’ve actually made themselves known to our government and have made a secret pact with the military at the highest levels, you know…”

He proceeds—yes—joints passed gingerly through the audience as attention becomes thoroughly sucked up in the enveloping immensity of the Screen…

“Of course the military’s interested in the arrangement because of their highly advanced technology and the implicit threat their superior knowledge poses to the whole safety of the planet Earth and civilization as we know it…”

Fonda’s lids lift in puffy pantomime of the proverbial “far out”…

“But what the spacebeings are interested in is interbreeding with Earth women in order to improve their genetic stock, which has been severely damaged by nuclear holocausts on their own world…”

Hopper rolls his eyes moonward in appeal to the patron of lunatics, takes another hit as Fonda in sheer mesmeric fascination moves around the campfire closer to the raptured Nicholson…

“And the secret government, you know the military-industrial complex and its espionage agencies and the Council on Foreign Relations and the Illuminati and the Jason Scholars and the Club of Rome and the Bilderbergers and the Masons and the Elks and the Shriners, the secret government decides to the aliens’ terms in the hopes of keeping their abduction activities to a limited basis that can be supervised, so we exchange the promise of a full list of the borrowed citizens used in their genetic experiments and returned undamaged for the guarantee of acquiring their advanced scientific knowledge so we can forge far ahead of the Russians and at the same time raise ourselves onto a par with the spacebeings. Of course,” Jack continues, staring slit-eyed into the fire, “we figure these spacebeings aren’t used to Earth-deals; our military figures that it’s slickered these rubbery-skinned rubes from Orion and all the while it doesn’t realize that it’s they themselves that have been slickered.”

“I suppose these space dudes have fine print in their contract…what’d they do, have you for their attorney?” Hopper jeers, Bogarting the last of the joint that’s lingered twelve eternities as an idle glow in the shadow between his fingers.

“That’s correct,” Jack forges on, “the fine print as you so sagely remark, implicitly stated that these spacebeings had just been given carte blanche because of a little-known clause of cosmic law which was just not the Earth government’s forte. And that law states that the sanctity, the internal self-contained development of a planetary culture or society cannot be violated except on invitation extended an outside agency by the free will of that culture, through its overt or implicit representatives.”

“Come again?” Fonda interjects after what seems to be an interminable suspension of time, every audible nuance in the crackle of the campfire meticulously subdividing into separate infinities of tone…

“You heard correctly my friend. It turns out that, once the invitation is extended by making a pact or treaty, the spacebeings that are negatively polarized and therefore not honorbound to observe the specific terms of any agreement are perfectly able to maraud and plunder according to the actual spirit or true character that originally sparked the agreement. Since the whole treaty was inspired in the first place by designs of military supremacy, control and conquest, the spacebeings of negative orientation take that to be the real governing terms of their own activity. So the military comes to find out that they’ve violated the agreement, that they’re only submitting fractional lists of the actual number of unsuspecting citizens they’ve been abducting and subjecting to genetic experiments, medical examinations, brainwashing and post-hypnotic suggestion, amnesia, monitor-implanting of a surgical type and so forth…”

“So…what exactly does the military and the secret power-structure do when it finds out about this infraction?” Fonda asks, spell-bound with the tiny image of the bonfire dancing in each glazed pupil of his eyes.

“Well, naturally, it goes right ahead and uses as much of the alien technology as is doled out by the comparative eyedropper, to abduct and brainwash and implant U.S. citizens as well…”

“Good!” Hopper chortles, “We’ll retaliate the execution of U.S. hostages by taking American citizens hostage and executing them ourselves!”

“That’s sort of the logic, alright,” Jack drawls. “You see what the government started getting concerned about, was the number that really seemed to be involved here, and that it wasn’t only miscellaneous citizens they were finding with ‘missing time’ but military personnel, government officials and people in key positions of power everywhere…” Cut back and forth to successively tight shots of Fonda’s “far out” expression…“Well, the government begins to figure that the only thing it can do is either go to the American people through the mass media and confess the fact that it’d closed a bad deal behind everyone’s back and appeal to the enlightened concern of the general citizenry, or it can clam up, spare itself the embarrasment and the implicit revelation concerning the character of its routine behavior-patterns, and develop its own preemptive strike capabilities using a combination of what it could extract of alien technology and the advanced work of its best scientific minds.”

“So,” Fonda seems to pick each separate piece like glass from the cells of his brain, “the government must have figured out that the extraterrestrials don’t just want to borrow from our gene pool to splice a few codes into their allegedly fatigued systems.”

“That’s right. From all the evidence gathered through hypnotic regression, advanced spy equipment and loose ends that the aliens didn’t bother to clean up or deliberately left around, the government began to get the idea that masses of people were being abducted in their sleep or off the highways, rigged with monitoring devices and hypnotically programmed, and much of what they found out seemed to indicate that the information or behavioral codes implanted in this way were of the order of elaborate, double-lock time release imprints. Because of the complex way the aliens folded the information into the hypnotic recesses of people’s brains, the programs themselves couldn’t be retrieved but the surrounding recollections and circumstantial evidences suggested that highly sophisticated technological knowledge was often being stored away in the deep minds of ordinary citizens, and even subliminally retained instructions on how to run certain kinds of alien UFO equipment and weaponry! Well, because of this the government got the idea quick that the aliens were creating a silent ground-level army of dormant, robotically programmed units in the form of unsuspecting ordinary people in all walks of life, that could be called on simultaneously at the appropriate time.”

“You mean, sort of like a zombie army, Night of the Living Dead stuff,” Hopper interjects in asthmatic gasps while holding his breath.

“Yeah,” Jack smiles with an exaggerated wag of his chin, obviously enjoying himself. “Well, the government and military-industrial-espionage-bankocracy complex isn’t going to play second fiddle to anybody’s plans for world conquest, let alone aliens from some other system of space and time altogether! And besides, such nefarious activities also begin to look very much as if they can work directly to the benefit of the power structure in order to consolidate its global hold even further, if played right.”

“You mean because of all the incredibly advanced technology they may be able to get their hands on…”

“…and also because the threat of an alien-from-outerspace takeover, if regulated and timed and released just right could create the kind of unprecedented situation that could totally disorient human psychology and cause everyone in their panic and bewilderment to submit willingly to the martial law-order of a world totalitarianism.”

“You mean the whole thing fits into the pattern of producing a One World Government.”

“That’s right,” Jack grins an oriental grin with satisfied conclusiveness. “Of course because of all the unpredictable variables and the inherent uncertainty…” he enunciates the syllables distinctly, with stoned precision like the most grandiloquent of hippie-pedagogues, “what with the aliens being so inscrutable and producing so many contradictory signals, the power-structure brainstorms a lot of contingency plans. They don’t just develop one course of action but a whole line of options. They get their think tanks working overtime. First of all, of course, they have to at least keep up with the aliens, so their own spy-fraternities like the NSA and CIA double up on the monitoring operation; they not only supply the aliens jointly occupied underground facilities such as in Arizona, Nevada and New Mexico where they can learn from their electromagnetic and biogenetic procedures while keeping things in an apparently ‘controlled’ environment, but they subject the people used as guinea pigs there to a double operation, a covert duplication of the aliens’ procedures where the government independently kidnaps the same and other people in order to use what they’ve learned of alien technology to implant and program them as well, to monitor their activities, experiment with radio-hypnotic intracerebral control…telepathic transmission of orders…long-distance disruption of behaviors through ELF…combinations of drug, hypnotic and electromagnetic brainwashing and so on. In fact the government starts experimenting from the very beginning at supersecret facilities like Los Alamos, on forms of genetic breeding and exotic DNA intervention aimed at beating the aliens to the punch where it comes to forming an indigenous, Earth-based super-race, or alternatively a biologically programmed and obedient caste of home-made androids, you know, disposable organic robots to perform menial or dangerous tasks, suicidal missions and so forth. Also of course the secret government pursues the technology of cloning so as to be able to actually substitute hypnotically-obedient robot drones for key government and communications personalities…”

“Yeah! I know a lot of politicians and more than a few news anchors that answer to that description already!” Hopper exclaims, peering cross-eyed through the rings of smoke he’s puffed toward the pulsing fire.

“It seems that all this time the secret government has led official science at the popular level into ‘safe’ lines of development, where the really advanced and revolutionary forms of the superscience that was already largely in the military’s hands would be screened from view and go unsuspected by the vast majority.”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute.” Hopper seems to explode like a pinelog popping in the fire, “how the hell does this all-powerful cryptic goddamn ‘government’ of yours manage to do all that, huh?” Stoned indignation to the superlative degree. “How do the ‘authorities’ manage to keep scientists from discovering things in the natural course of practicing their science? How do they manage to manipulate and control something that has to function intrinsically through the spirit of ‘free inquiry’!”

“I suppose you feel the Russian government has allowed its scientists free unbridled inquiry all these years…”

“Well hell no, that’s different—everyone knows they’ve been hamstrung in a lot of ways by the arbitrary imposition of Communist doctrine, ‘dialectical materialism’ and all that. I suppose you’re going to tell me that the free world governments have also imposed their version of restrictive doctrine all over the ivy of higher learning, the groves of capitalist academe…”

“There it is,” Jack pounces, “you just said it. Investigation always goes where the money flows. That’s the kind of ‘doctrine’ that keeps things in line in the free world. Funding, my friend. What line of inquiry is deemed lucrative! What avenue of impartial academic pursuit does Congress and the regulatory valves of those steering committees designate as deserving of the grants, the big-buck subsidies? Do corporations and the utility companies really allow the unrestrained, impartially-subsidized development of free-energy resources even though the principles and working models were proven by people like Tesia early in the century? Or do they doctor the existing evidence, abridge important texts, confiscate papers, hire ‘popularizers’ to streamline seminal theories such as Clerk Maxwell’s original equations which possessed an important scalar component that just somehow doesn’t show up in the sanitized standard produced by his ‘interpreter’ Oliver Heaviside.”

“You don’t have to get huffy,” Hopper murmurs, the floating focus of his interest already dispersed as he folds over, in calm containment, before the banking fire.

“It’s just stuff that should be self-evident,” Jack says with satisfied disdain. “You can even trace the changing position of the ‘unofficial’ power structure as it pulls the strings behind the scenes. I’ll bet you didn’t know that there was a terrific public surge of antigravity research in the early ’50s, all of it right out in the open, newspapers and scientific magazines and all. It wasn’t belittled back then…but you’re probably too young to remember.”

“I remember all the ’50s sci-fi movies about flying saucers and weird beings from other worlds,” Hopper snorts in bemused reminiscence.

“Exactly!” Nicholson brightens. “That was inspired by the same basic thing that was happening all over! It’s not an accident that electrogravitics was such a hot pursuit right out in the public at the same time that there started up the big UFO flap, and all the films on flying saucers and spaceage technology. It’s all part and parcel of the same phenomenon.”

“Yeah, boredom with the Eisenhower years,” Hopper laughs.

“Well, even that bland middleclass atmosphere was a way of keeping the lid on, and maintaining the impression of order while in fact the most revolutionary of all happenings was seething right under everyone’s nose. All that gravity research was stimulated by the recent recovery of the crashed UFOs—the government was pushing, without letting most of its scientists or any of the public know the truth; they needed to get caught up fast on that whole zone of exotic potential, you know…at the time there was only so much they could derive from examining strange, partially damaged or out-of-commission craft made of elements or alloys beyond the comprehension of present Earth-science altogether. The government obviously felt we had to develop our own, terrestrial-based equivalent if we were going to survive exposure to the startling things that were found at those recovery sites.”

“What things?” Fonda slowly turns his head, obviously magnetized by the ominous undertone.

“Wait a minute,” Hopper interrupts, “if all that gravity research was so out in the open, what happened to it? You never hear of it now, and it doesn’t get a hell of a lot of space in the journals of science history! It seems to me that if it was so public at one time, it must have gone the way of the Edsel.”

“Not at all,” Jack states matter-of-factly, brimming with aplomb. “In fact, all the research was quietly withdrawn toward the beginning of the 60’s. The heavy gravity research of the 50’s is in fact a perfect example of what I was saying about how the secret government manipulates and maneuvers the direction of research. Because once the pact was entered into directly with those aliens contacted after the kismet of the desert UFO crashes, we obtained sufficient knowledge to rule it advantageous to withdraw interest from the public level of scientific investigation and continue research and experimentation entirely in secret.

“That’s where the really big split took place, between the advanced scientific and exotic technological research being sponsored by the secret government ‘underground’, and the large-fund projects involving cyclotron collidcrs and subnuclear physics keeping the public-level science community happy and helping to perpetuate the corporate cash-flow system at the same time. Those big ponderous programs helped to produce collective amnesia about the antigravity experiments that were approachable from the level of electronics engineering, and that involved so much inopportune free-energy implication at just about every turn. Corporate America and the international financial empire breathed a sigh of relief when all that no longer required the concerted effort of every available scientist or the incalculable factor of the random, gifted amateur they were always scouting for in those days—you know, the surprise element of undereducated ‘naiveté’ that stumbles on something the experts overlook just because of the gaps in formal comprehension…”

“Let’s get back to what you were saying about the ‘crashed UFOs’,” Fonda succeeds in tugging the meandering circuit of his mind through the associative links of conversation, back to the theme that had generated the rippling undertone, the “vibe” of tacit menace.

“Well, that all has to do with how and why the military-corporate power structure developed its strategy for handling the situation in the first place. It seems the secret government was a little dubious about these ‘spacebrothers’ since they first crashlanded in Roswell, New Mexico and four corners in the years between 1947 and 1949, since they not only recovered alien bodies from the wreckage but the spare parts of missing military personnel…”

“What!” Fonda’s bloodshot eye slides to its very corner under a limp awning where it peers obliquely at Nicholson. “You mean these spacebeings were carving people up, and this was all known from the very beginning?”

“It seems there was all manner of confusing specimens aboard those first crashed ships, and it was never really clear to the ‘powers that be’ whether these wrecks and their contents weren’t staged for maximum emotional impact, you know, in order to create deliberate confusion. There was all sorts of weird stuff on board those ships that were subsequently taken to Holliman and Edwards Air Force bases; there was allegedly an array of spacebeing fetuses hooked up to tubes and surgically altered to have more human features, and there were carcasses of dead crew that showed bizarre insides at autopsy, like a chlorophyll-based circulatory system suggesting some nutritive process of do-it-yourself photosynthesis…”

“Wait a minute,” Hopper interjects, “if this stuff was originally discovered before the government even made a formal face-to-face treaty with these…aliens…” he snorts in a private amusement…”what happens to the idea about ‘cosmic law’ and all that stuff, huh? Answer me that, Mr. Bible-belt barrister! What about the idea that these negative beings have to obey some kind of quasi-spiritual rule about being invited first, before they can assume they’ve got the go-ahead to start cutting up! Got you there, huh Mr. William Jennings Bryan!”

“Not a bit, cap’n,” Jack grins his Cheshire grin, “for it seems the power-structure is so damnably compartmentalized with its nests of secret groups and agencies inside other secret groups and agencies that all along the left hand has not really known what the right hand has been doing.”

“You mean…somebody in the government had already extended the invitation to them!?”

“Uh huh, that is correct, my friend. On a limited basis FDR had already made an agreement on the open seas before WWII with one of the negative alien subgroups, for certain technological advantages and training that could be used during wartime. Of course the aliens had already entered into an even more extensive agreement with the Nazis, but Roosevelt didn’t necessarily know about this.”

“Boggles the mind.” Hopper’s mind seems to drift off with the attenuated distraction of his voice—disconnected segments, miscellaneous bits will occur to him in the course of the next day, no one edge fitting to any other…

“Of course, the spacebeings had always been beaming the electromagnetically enhanced thought-waves toward Earth-people and especially influential figures, so as to entice them subconsciously and lead them—without their knowing it of course—to the point of psychic readiness where they’d be willing to enter into some such pact once the beings revealed themselves and demonstrated something of their marvelous capabilities.”

“I see.”

“This sort of thing has been going on from time immemorial.” Jack settles into his most lawyer-like demeanor, about to expound the brief for the prosecution. “Although the higher principles of cosmic law work on the idea of free will, and any being positive or negative who’s going to exist in the higher-dimensional conditions has to adhere to that law, the negative beings try to use it to their advantage. It’s beginning to become well known that they trick the free-will variable operating through souls connected to the screening devices of the lower dimensions, so that those souls acting through distorted or deliberately engineered information—of an imperfect, partial or invented character—are induced to take willed actions which make them unwittingly vulnerable to direct alien coercion and control. The free-will value of the tricked person is then integrated as a kind of controlled operative into the total reserves of Will belonging to the Trickster, so that the subject—by the exercise of his own will—becomes a satellite of the higher-dimensional entity, drinks in and functions by the negative-type Strategy of that entity as a kind of apprentice-slave. They become psychically meshed in a distinct hierarchy of control, a kind of cosmic pecking order of a very military-like mold, where the most clever is augmented and enhanced by the psychic-conscious energies of all whom he’s influenced to accept his imposition and bracketing guidance.”

“That must be why the military seems to be their most natural target,” Fonda muses.

“Exactly. It’s the form of organization most predisposed already to think along the lines leading to the type of entrapment they specialize in. Once they get that mentality going, it fills in its own blanks—and in exactly the way the negative alien forces desire.

“So even though the negative beings of the higher planetary dimensions can’t enter directly into a developing system like Earth and just take over with their clearly superior technological control, they don’t want to either. It seems that’s not their game. Their real game is to induce the free-will development of an elite ‘control group’ that will progressively seek to dominate and enslave all others, and in so doing the aliens will have succeeded in allying and properly polarizing the spirit of a number of souls that then become valuable to them as functional additions to their sum psychic ‘mass’, the total spiritual power that they can bring to bear in and through any given dimension…”

Fonda’s face seems solidified to a veritable frieze, fixing his features to their “far out” mold…

“This is why, throughout history, they’ve been around, and there’s been evidence of them—you know, like descriptions of craft and beings in the Bible or the Ramayana, inexplicable relics like ‘crystal skulls’ or the peculiar patterns at Nazca, but they’ve never just entered overtly into and taken over our history as you’d expect any hostile civilization of unopposably-advanced technology to do; rather what they have been doing, is subtly influencing the course of our surface histories and the formations of our systems and governments from behind their dimensional ‘veil’ so to speak, at a ‘respectable distance’—sort of at arm’s length until they can feed us enough rope indirectly with which to hang ourselves. Once we’re in the predicament of apparently having to request their ‘aid’ or the type of counsel they’re suited to supply, they can mount an invasion force adhering to the letter of the cosmic ‘free will’ law while raping and plundering the very spirit that functions through that law.

“So they hang out at the margins, so to speak, and beam their repeated thought-messages, their modelling images or archetypes into our psychic atmosphere where we tend to ‘pick it up’ or ‘pass it by’ according to affinities that always originate at the level of the free-will variable. In that sense you can say we’re always behaviorally influenced, either internally by tendency of our subconscious patterns or inbuilt autonomic codes, or externally by a bombardment of ‘positive’ or ‘negative’ rays of light-energy according to the type of entity that seeks to resonate our psychic atmosphere—we’re behaviorally influenced, but not controlled—at least not until such time as we might fall prey because of the passive habit of our will to the type of coercive, mechanical or formal regulation such passivity implicitly invites.”

“So these dudes, like, hang out in their little saucers and cups above the planet and sort of shoot pirate-radio broadcasts all day long?” Hopper takes obvious pleasure from his rhetorical query as he strokes his stubbly beard.

“Ah, here’s the really weird part about it.”

“You mean it hasn’t been weird so far?”

“It seems that all the ancient stories and folklore about forbidden caverns, underground systems of tunnels going down into whole other worlds beneath the Earth and so on—you know like ‘Sesame’ and other tales of secret openings in the sides of mountains, mysterious holes in the middle of the desert—have a basis in fact.”

“Pass that joint, would you…”

“Whereas we’re taught to believe that there’s basically a solid mass under us compressed into magma and intense temperatures toward the core, there’s actually an entire, mediating world of levels and intertwined passages like a gigantic antfarm that snakes to incredible depths and stretches all across the globe connecting landmasses and continents by secret tubules, and running under the ocean floors. And there are all manner of civilizations in the vast underground caverns that are connected by these passages, some of which are populated by the ancestors of ancient refugees from surface cataclysms, some of which are inhabited by alien lifeforms from other dimensional galaxies of space and time that find it’s much more convenient to establish these quasi-permanent underground outposts than to shuttle back and forth from their native worlds to this…”

“And why, pray tell, do they want to set up shop here in the first place?” Hopper challenges with mellow pugnaciousness, taking a deep hit while the campfire crackles like the popping of gigantic seeds…

“It seems there’s various motives, depending on the type of alien consciousness we’re talking about.” Jack palpably warms to his subject, knowing like a good attorney that he has his jury spellbound regardless what each intends to turn in as a verdict. “There’s good aliens, who want to be of help in furthering man’s evolutionary development and spiritual knowledge so that he can someday sit on the intergalactic council of cosmic caretakers along with them; and there’s aliens that are basically neutral as far as man’s own development is concerned but are involved by scientific curiosity—usually these types of aliens require Earth as a kind of wateringhole, or colony of natural resources; of course some of those natural resources have to do with man’s genetic makeup, which these beings find heartier than their own since their development is necessarily advanced along with the accompanying age of their sun, and their hereditary vitality is consequently tracing the downside of a bellshaped curve. Their residency underground is sort of like setting up a field laboratory; occasionally they abduct ‘surface’ people, basically women but sometimes men, and take them to their underground labs where chromatic materials are removed or certain types of genetic alterations are made that they feel will eventually contribute a better strain to their own hereditary splicings. These types aren’t basically harmful, or they don’t intend real harm although the trace impressions of abduction can be traumatic to the human psyche even if they’re subconsciously buried by mesmeric programs, since these aliens don’t understand human emotion very well.”

“You have that roach, man?”

“Then of course there’s the bad guys. These fellows are basically the hunters of existence; their whole behavior pattern has to do with conquest. Since they’re spiritual hunters of course from the higher planes of being, they’re really interested in creating a vast psychic network of control like an extending webwork, emanated out in all directions of space and time from the ‘commander-in-chief’ at the center. This central commander is like the ‘bull’ of the herd; his position at the axis of the whole revolving network, is sort of an effort to establish a personalized form of consciousness or ego-entity at the place of ‘God’ or infinite Void-being—which is the universal value that’s obtained when you align all coordinates with their common axis in the Positive framework.

“You know, it’s kind of like King Arthur and the Knights of the Roundtable—all the beings of positive orientation coordinate their efforts in an equitably distributed harmony, ‘each for the other’ so to speak so that the common Good is a central convergence-point of their effort that doesn’t have any specially benefited being at its center. Consider the Round Table: the King and all the Knights sit around the circumference across from each other like reciprocally polarized values, ‘radial extremes’ that cancel in a harmony of cooperative cross-correlation—or perfect service—at their common center; and that center is the Void-center, no one sits there but it represents the Whole or Complete value of them all, the spirit that they serve. The negative hierarchy on the other hand is inspired by a viewpoint that compels every unit to place itself on the throne of that center, to install itself in a godlike position.”

“Far out.” Fonda inhales with an abrupt hiss from the tripod of fingers bunched to his lips.

“In the deeper psychic or spiritual dimensions to which these negative beings are polarized, consciousness is power rather than wisdom—their ‘wisdom’ consists in knowing how to get power. Since the key is consciousness regardless how it’s viewed, the free-will variable has to be respected or else the coveted value is taken out of the commodity; the soul that’s drained to oblivion as a strictly robotic-reflex or programmed response-mechanism may be usable in the way that machinery is usable, but the significant recruit is the one who’s been taken by trickery so that his ‘free-will variable’ is basically intact, but aligned in psychic congruence with the pattern secretly imposed on it; this allows the actual energy potential of the consciousness-variable to be integrated into the ‘aura’ of the dominating or victorious Will. The recruit has ‘chosen’ to polarize negatively, regardless what he thought he was doing; and conserving that conscious value as it’s effectually added to the sum of potencies leashed to the Leader’s own ‘auric field’—thereby magnifying it—represents the real ‘point’ of the negative game. One of the corollary rules of the game is that all those who can’t be led to polarize negatively should be led away from polarizing positively, and ideally tricked into accepting a form of slave-service as either ‘preferable’ or ‘inevitable’. In this way the Negative being ideally picks up all the pieces on the gameboard, and ‘wins’.”

“So what about those ‘tunnels’…”

“Oh yeah; the underground caverns and passageways actually intersect different dimensional doorways as they go down, so that beings from various planetary ‘dimensions’ of space and time can find their correlative dimension in certain of the pockets or strata ‘below’, rather than on the surface with its very precious and specialized atmosphere of ‘physical-brain’ conditions. The inner energy atmospheres associated with the tunnel-systems belowground, allow beings from other planets and galaxies representing higher-dimensional composites or ‘ratios of alignment’ to dwell in corresponding conditions for sustained periods of time. Thus these different beings don’t really ‘live on the Earth’ in the sense that we think of it; and yet they don’t have to hover in their own contained atmosphere aboard their ‘saucers’ around the margins of the Earth crust periodically returning for replenishment to their planetary origin.”

“Ah.”

“Instead, they establish these quasi-permanent outposts underground. They’ve been with us since the dawn of time in one form or another, and have intermittently interacted with Earth-beings above-ground according to conditions and the screening cycles of the planet’s energy network.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, it seems Earth has a system of biomagnetic fields and pulsating currents that resonate the planetary envelope producing a variable ‘aperture’ or screening effect, making it more or less difficult for beings of any particular polarization-alignment to penetrate the prevailing field-circuitry at the surface. Part of the ‘work’ of the negative beings, in fact, is to induce activities of people at the surface that will serve unwittingly to alter the resonance shell so as to weaken its ‘shield’; a good part of their plan involves getting Earth-beings to violate the encoded energy-net or magnetic filtering mechanism of the planetary envelope.”

“I guess it doesn’t take much to figure what that activity consists of…”

“Well, besides the obvious stuff like detonating underground nuclear weapons, tearing holes in the ozone layer and altering Earth’s respiration rate by stripping her forests, there’s the less well-known stuff…”

“Such as…” Holes are beginning to appear in Hopper’s memory-circuits, causing him to forget momentarily his skeptical hardline on the matter.

“It seems that the negative aliens have furnished the military a lot of technical knowledge about how to engineer resonance frequencies and even the fields that underlie subatomic physics; they’ve been given the basic means whereby they can duplicate some of the aliens’ own manipulative activity—and of course the military’s eager to compete with the aliens according to their scenario of preemptive first-strike capabilities.”

“Just what does this ‘engineering’ allow them to do?”

“Well, first of all it allows them to scramble atmospheric resonance frequencies so that the field in which our optimal brainwave patterns function, is dislocated; more specifically it allows them to tailor certain interference effects mainly involved with ultralow frequencies, in such a way as to skip intervening space—that means they don’t have to propagate in a straight line but can coordinate fields to critically integrate and interfere at distant target points, producing strictly local and discontinuous effects as if ‘out of nowhere’. This means they can disrupt communications, produce implosions or explosions, carry brain-wave scramblers to distant points, lock into the biomagnetic patterns of birds, animals or seacreatures so as to trick their instinctual radars and substitute artificial trajectories that will home them all-unknowingly along aberrative courses…”

“Wow, you mean…like beaching whales?”

“Uh huh…and bombarding targeted houses with disoriented, flying predators…”

“When did that happen?”

“Never mind…They can use these remote-system field modulators to tailor certain weather patterns, producing unseasonal phenomena that serve to devastate indigenous resources; or they can generate wholly artificial weather effects in the way Tesla is said to have reproduced an electric storm in all its natural ferocity…”

“Whew! And they do this to their own planet, their own people!”

“First strike capabilities, hmmm? What else are they going to practice on. Of course the net effect is to cause significant holes to appear in the invisible screening mechanism of the planetary envelope; as it makes the Earth’s surface less and less hospitable to its indigenous citizens, it causes the proper sequence of conditions congenial to a more consistent stream of invasive influences. It makes the planet proportionally more ‘habitable’ to those beings that are intrinsically inimical to it.”

“Wait just a minute,” Hopper resurges, spackling some of the psychic cracks in his wall of skepticism, “if the powers that be are so busy doing all this, how come nobody notices? How come out of all the masses of people that would have to be involved in this, someone doesn’t blow the whistle? And what about the equipment to do these things? Where is all this stuff? It can’t be hiding, it’s got to be big enough to get somebody’s attention!”

“It is, cap’n, it is. It’s big enough alright; but most of the equipment used is highly specialized, belongs to classified projects where very few have to know what’s really going on. Systems are built by several corporations, they’re manned by specialists who only know their own function…and most of the equipment that’s involved is versatile—it doesn’t just serve one function but can double for different functions. With the slightest alteration or adjustment ordinary radar equipment can convert to specialized transmitters processing quite exotic forms of energy.

“NORAD, for example, has an ELF resonance-transmitter a mile under the Cheyenne Mountain in Colorado, with a broadcast antipode in the South Indian Ocean; there’s the Australian Pine Gap transmitter with an antipode at the great dividing ridge in the Atlantic Ocean and a nearby Northwest Cape transmitter that has its antipode right in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle—find that interesting, cap’n? Intense fields produced in fluctuating patterns can cause radiation burns, mental aberration or genetic damage, and with the ability to subtly engineer the em infrastructure as taught by the aliens, it’s possible to induce long-distance trance states, disrupt or modify human behavior patterns or even subliminally program a suitable subject with or without implanted headset.”

Nicholson leans back, gazing into the fire like the cat that swallowed the canary. Hopper doesn’t say a word, entranced and immobile as if the whole recitation had filled one ear only to be emptied from the other…synaptical chemistries of the memory-circuits happily playing in some other beaker of the brain.

“Both the military and the aliens have laced the meridians of the globe with artificial ‘ley-line’ systems, complex grid-networks establishing superimposed resonance circuits that can arbitrarily augment or disrupt natural patterns; and that only serves to exaggerate the changes that are taking place as part of the real Earth cycle, the tectonic shifts and magnified radiation of the solar winds…of course, it has been said,” Jack drawls with a sly sideways glance at Hopper and Fonda, “that the effectiveness of the artificial grid network will only be maximized and operating at full capacity if and when an axis tilt occurs that wobbles the polar alignments.”

“You mean the aliens or the government or somebody has a stake in engineering that too ? “ Fonda exclaims, his patent “far out” fixing his features in a cartoon of stoned astonishment. Nicholson doesn’t reply, but gives the impression that were he to burp in that moment a few yellow feathers would puff from his mouth.

“The aliens engineer all kinds of effects from their underground lairs,” he continues at last. “In fact, coupled to their demonstrable ability to produce extreme effects of dislocation in space and time and so forth, they also claim that they’ve played a preemptive role in staging all the significant events in human history.”

“Do tell…have you seen that joint?”

“ Yup. Why, it’s well known that they even demonstrated to the top brass in their secret underground quarters at Dulce or Groom Lake or somewhere, just how they created ‘Christ’ and the whole set of established religions and religious figures. There’s even supposed to be photographs somewhere of this big holographic display they allegedly produced out of the ‘Akashic Record’ or something, that shows the crucifixion as it actually took place.”

“Just what is their point to all this?” Hopper demands, the edge of irritation in his demeanor suddenly sharpened again—though it isn’t clear whether it’s the religious inference or his inability to locate the circulating roach that sets him off.

“Well, it’s hard to say exactly. There are several possible ‘scenarios’, you know. One train of thought believes that they have done this to disabuse us—for one reason or another—from the very idea of conventional religiosity, to create a disenchantment so that we can forsake the crutches of organized religion they provided for us in our ‘younger’ days and follow them into the higher-dimensional training of spaceage, spiritual technology. Another train of thought believes they’ve done this because they want us to recognize them as the custodians of our most sacred ideals and traditions.”

“Again, so we’ll be willing to follow them wherever else they lead.”

“Exactly. On the more negative side of course, some suspect it may just be a ploy to demoralize ‘the human family’ and its leaders, undermine the confidence they’ve traditionally had in their cherished institutions and belief patterns; the kind of thorough dispiriting that would take place if the impact was strong and unexpected enough, would naturally have repercussion throughout man’s ‘system’. It would even impact his biology, his physical stability—it’s well known how negative or anxious psychological states weaken the immunology networks! You can imagine how many generals and top brass with big egos backed by ‘god-and-country’ were taken down several pegs by a bunch of little gray gumbys from Betelgeuse when they started showing their family slides! All you have to do is undermine confidence and let a state of depression set in—the mind is much more vulnerable to suggestion when it’s morally defeated, when the resistance-systems are fatigued by sudden overload.”

“On the other hand,” Hopper opines in a sudden maniacal staccato presciently borrowed from his Blue Velvet character, “isn’t it just possible this indirectly validates the whole spiritual thing, like…doesn’t this just act to put the whole church bag in a positive perspective, give it a new lease on life by reverse psychology?…you know, man,” he snorts, laughing. “I mean, if these little gray dudes who are obviously you know negative in so many ways are making such an effort to convince the powers-that-be how they’re at the bottom of the whole Jesus-trip and all that, isn’t it kind of evident they’re attempting to discredit it by association?”

“Or else,” Nicholson lifts a forefinger as if to instruct the jury on a subtle legal point, “it’s a triple-reverse psychological ploy, and they’re really trying to make their identification with it so obvious as an attempt to discredit that they succeed in driving people right back into the arms of standard religion which is where they really want them to be all along!”

“Whew,” Fonda exhales, “would you mind running that by one more time?”

“I can’t!” Nicholson chuckles after considering the request with ponderous deliberation, “It’s hard for me to follow that one myself.”

“Hey, what about all the ‘Virgin Mary apparitions and things,” Fonda considers sedately as he peers, with myopic nearness, into the glowing tip of the joint, “do all those phenomena that have been seen by thousands like at Lourdes or Fatima tend to confirm conventional religion, or do they fit more into the general engineering format that these little critters have been revealing?”

“Well it all depends,” Jack smiles sideways as if building momentum for another roll, “since each of those phenomena have their own individual character in a lot of respects…if you take the very first one for example, the Lourdes thing that happened to the little French girl Bernadette in the 1800s, why that caused a great deal of consternation to the entrenched church authority; that whole thing carried some messages that weren’t at all acceptable to Catholic dogmas, whereas some of the later ones seem to fit more conveniently into the standard religious mold—in fact a lot of them tend to be so specifically Catholic in content and tone that it gets many people wondering whether an authentic spiritual phenomenon could ever legitimately manifest in such accord with one particular religious belief-pattern…”

“I’ll bet it doesn’t bother the Catholics…”

“Well, that’s just the point…it seems that, despite a lot of official resistance to the whole idea of latter-day miracles and special manifestations of spiritual apparitions not strictly controllable—in their spontaneous appearances—by church authority, nonetheless there’s a lot more recent willingness to accept or implicitly condone this activity on the part of the papal hierarchy just because it tends to ship so much dogmatic content along with glowing forms and colored lights; in a sense it seems to present just the unexpected boost in the arm to religious traditionalism that was needed in an increasingly skeptical and secularized world but which couldn’t be generated from within the restricted sanctions of cathedral walls and so forth.”

“Then it seems a case could be made for the idea that a lot of the apparitions are engineered by the superior technologies of the saucer-beings, since they follow the official programs and parochial customs so ‘religiously’.”

“Seems so. Common sense would tend to tell you it would be hard for a legitimate spiritual phenomenon to get the sectarian details down so exact unless (no. 1) there was a ‘one true religion’ of the most specialized denominational type, or (no. 2) there was a manipulative intelligence behind the scenes presenting such digestible formats for its own purposes. An important point not to forget in all this”—Jack stirs the embering campfire, sparks leap from the twirling tip of the twig—”is that the spacebeings could be telling different groups different things for different purposes.”

“Like what, for instance?”

“Like for instance, we only know about that display they apparently put on in private for the top brass, because of an information leak. Maybe that ‘disclosure’ wasn’t meant for the majority of people, just for the ‘generals’ and the corporate popes that run the show—maybe that hologram/national-geographic special on Golgotha the beings put on was only meant for certain eyes so that they could be weaned away from any residual attachment to the religious formulas that keep the majority entranced; maybe they needed to take away the last, conditioned affiliation to the docile-sheep mentality so that they could be more easily led into unrestrained lust of total power. These ‘big boys’ would be the souls the spacebeings intended to capture, to enlist as buck privates at the bottom of the pecking order of their own psychic hierarchies; and the majority of mankind that wasn’t already predisposed or basically committed to self-serving power-aggrandizement would comprise the souls the spacebeings intended to enslave, through the unleashed manipulations and diabolicized machinations of the former!”

“Far out…”

“Wow,” Hopper breathes, looking starward in a kind of awe at the conceptual magnitudes so suddenly sprawled out before him, “then ultimately, like, it all boils down to a spiritual war after all; it all comes down to a battle for the psyche of mankind, for the allegiance of mankind’s heart and soul! And a major part of it has to do with the question whether conventional religion is the refuge against the onslaught of the negative darkness, such as belief in Jesus and all that, or whether in fact it’s all a cleverly prepared trap meant to keep people locked into negative anxiety patterns so that they perpetually postpone their own spiritual development, put off seeing through their own personally awakened eyes in favor of anticipating their ultimate salvation through an arbitrary belief!”

“Yes, the frail arbitrariness of which is cleverly compensated by making it a matter of dogma, giving it the status of a culturally-sanctioned absolute the very questioning of which is a heresy meant to throw up inbuilt psychological blocks, deep fear-barriers and guilt reflexes!”

“The plot, man, definitely thickens.” Silence descends; the trio sits motionless before the banking fire. Behind them a comet streaks earthward…a van of happy travelers passing by on the open highway, going to the convention, going to the great annual Timothy Beckley UFO and hotplate convention in the land of the Mighty Thunderbird.

*     *     *

Next month: We meet Betty Andreasson Luca and Bob Luca, Al Bielek of the Philadelphia Experiment, Colonel Wendelle Stevens of the Billy Meier material, catch Christa Tilton and Bill Cooper on the speaker’s platform and have an Encounter with the Hell-date of Existence. Don’t miss it.