This summer's alien offering, District 9, might have a little more gore and gristle than the typical Independence Day "time to meet the aliens" contact outing, but it also has a message that resonates on a deeper level: if contact is imminent and we are faced with the interstellar pot-luck that contact could imply, are we ready?
The film, which carries a very strong socio-political message about mankind's inability to tolerate and co-exist with the different factions and races within itself, raises a few strong questions that seem to go largely unasked in UFOlogical circles. One of these questions is very simple. Have we celebrated and glamorized the idea of contact to fantastic heights that will undermine the very event itself? What if we aren't looking at Adamski's and Meijer's visitor's. What if we aren't face with the Nordic visages of the Plaeidians? What if, in fact, OUR visitors appear grotesque and not humanoid at all? We as humans seem to have a hard enough time dealing with different colors, even deformities, but what about an extending pair of mandibles or a prehensile tail that can decapitate with the same lethal force as a grizzly bear? What if on top of their appearance they were more agile, stronger, faster, and prone to the same aggressive outbursts that we ourselves are privy too? Some race is bound to circumvent their own extinction sooner or later none the wiser?
Let's suppose that for one moment there is the possibility that they don't come bearing gifts. What if instead of handing out a Sear's Roebuck catalog of new technology and extending the olive branch, solving our problems, they need OUR help. Then we are faced with a slightly new Malthusian argument. What if they are seeking refuge or even sanctuary? What if we are looking at a planet-wide exodus where their surviving numbers increase our own by 20%? 40%? Our scientific pursuits aren't always altruistic. What if we had to divert our research to sustaining a population that explodes instantaneously?
I think a film like District 9 is meant to entertain the audience with sometimes a heavy handed undercurrent of introspection. It uses aliens, explosions and the fantastic, allowing us to look at our own prejudices through the shimmery veil of Hollywood. My final question, and one that might seem as heavy handed as the politic laden District 9, is this: Has the UFO community spun a veil of it's own, leaving us as unprepared and as prone to mistakes as the very real kind of antagonists that make District's conflict not only a plausible one, but perhaps a disappointingly prophetic one?
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
What Is Wrong With The Mainstream Media?
I just finished watching ABC's Primetime Outsiders special and I am livid. They are not the only ones guilty of this, but that is where I am focusing my anger right now.
First, a major network decides to do a special on abductees and experiencers. Good idea, right? Not if you are the mainstream media. It seems that the entire pupose of the show was to debunk the people that were kind enough to be on and make them look like they are crazy, liars, or as they put it, "charlitans". The only person they interviewed on the show outside of the people that have had the experiences are either very stout non-believers, and one clinical hypnotist that they made look like he was crazy for believing in extraterrestrial life.
Why don't they have proper UFOlogists on? Because that might make these people look legitimate. If these people look legit, then they won't be able to try to turn their special into an episode of the muary povich show. Would it have been that difficult to get people like Timothy Good, Stanton Friedman, or Bill Birnes? Of course not, I have been able to reach out to each of those people at one point or another to get them on our show and we're just an internet radio show, I'm sure they would jump at the chance to be able to express their views on national television, but it will never happen. It won't happen because each of these people are too intelligent for these programs to have on, there is no way that they would be able to make them look silly in front of their viewing audience.
Don't even get me started on that terrible host Juju Chang. You could tell her questions were so passive agressive to make these people look bad it wasn't even funny. She went into it without even trying to believe or even be slightly open-minded about it. I've never seen anyone be so outright condescending in an interview in my life. She should be ashamed at her piss-poor excuse for journalism and throw herself off of a tall building. If I were any of those people and she asked me some of those questions I would have tried to turn it around on her and slam her lack of journalism skills. Of course, that part would have wound up on the cutting room floor, but I would have my own hidden camera going and put it up on youtube. The show should not have been about her or her worthless views. It's about the guests, that is why we have guests that return to our show regularly. We aren't here to debate them, make them look bad, or confront them. We are here to let them talk about their experiences, talk about their subject matter, and tell us their feelings on these extraordanry situations that live has given them, and I promise all guests that we ever have on this show, we will NEVER treat you like that.
Mark
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Book Review - Dark Force by Bill Bean
I am a fan of the untrained talent; the unrefined voice, the unadulterated vision. There is a purity and a passion to compulsion that practice seems to dilute over time. I think we are often prone to see truth when we are unfettered by the need to critique or analyze the presentation. Although Bill Bean is an adept storyteller, it is not so much his ability to chronicle his experiences that impresses, it is the honesty of his written voice. Dark Force, either way, is an easy read. It rarely lingers on the unimportant tangent and the strength of that focused narrative helps propel the pace ever forward.
Dark Force tells the story of Bill and his family over a harrowing and tumultuous decade of experiences in their Maryland home. For those that are looking for the haunting that “passes strange”, this is one to add to their summer reading list. Bill’s accounts represent the extreme end of the haunting spectrum, one that is often disturbing in its ferocity and evil in its intent. It is the single mindedness of the presence to terrify and ultimately try to destroy the Bean family that separates Bill’s account from many similar hauntings that have been written about by some of his contemporaries. There is no question of purpose when it comes to the entities involved: they sought to maim not only the family’s fate but their physical persons and in may ways succeeded on the latter, which ultimately makes Dark Force a story of survival at its heart.
Dark Force begins during Bill’’s adolescence with the purchase of the house in Maryland, a project for his father, a master carpenter, and the obvious socialite of the Bean troupe. Bill’s father and the way he is affected by the dark presence is reminiscent of the Amityville Horror and the parallels are drawn easily, but never disqualifying the intensity of the events. We are able to get a child’s perspective that not only chronicles the sad, desperate path of the head of the family, but every member in the family. We move from sister to father to mother to son and the evolution of these experiences captures the ever present dread not only of the house and it’s unearthly occupants, but of a boy seeing his family literally torn apart from the inside by something he has no frame of reference to combat.
It is, in fact, Bill’s ability to write with the same emotions that he experienced as his child-self that allows you to sympathize not only with the author now, but look through his eyes as he was younger, and share that same fear and ultimately the hope that transcends the horror of it all.
Ash
The Parafactor
Dark Force tells the story of Bill and his family over a harrowing and tumultuous decade of experiences in their Maryland home. For those that are looking for the haunting that “passes strange”, this is one to add to their summer reading list. Bill’s accounts represent the extreme end of the haunting spectrum, one that is often disturbing in its ferocity and evil in its intent. It is the single mindedness of the presence to terrify and ultimately try to destroy the Bean family that separates Bill’s account from many similar hauntings that have been written about by some of his contemporaries. There is no question of purpose when it comes to the entities involved: they sought to maim not only the family’s fate but their physical persons and in may ways succeeded on the latter, which ultimately makes Dark Force a story of survival at its heart.
Dark Force begins during Bill’’s adolescence with the purchase of the house in Maryland, a project for his father, a master carpenter, and the obvious socialite of the Bean troupe. Bill’s father and the way he is affected by the dark presence is reminiscent of the Amityville Horror and the parallels are drawn easily, but never disqualifying the intensity of the events. We are able to get a child’s perspective that not only chronicles the sad, desperate path of the head of the family, but every member in the family. We move from sister to father to mother to son and the evolution of these experiences captures the ever present dread not only of the house and it’s unearthly occupants, but of a boy seeing his family literally torn apart from the inside by something he has no frame of reference to combat.
It is, in fact, Bill’s ability to write with the same emotions that he experienced as his child-self that allows you to sympathize not only with the author now, but look through his eyes as he was younger, and share that same fear and ultimately the hope that transcends the horror of it all.
Ash
The Parafactor
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Interstellar Kid Gloves: A Child Abduction Observation
This month marks a year that I have been broadcasting my weekly show on the paranormal. No, this isn’t a shameless plug, and I am guilty of it enough to know when I’m actually NOT doing it. Having the show has afforded me the opportunity to meet many interesting and many opinionated people. It has also helped to lay a baseline of similarities in experiences that I have shared with some of my guests. One guest in particular happened to be Paul Shroeder, a self-proclaimed abductee. Paul’s case, like most abductees starts out weird and graduates to a level of high strangeness that a lot of abductees share that makes their experiences not only hard to categorize even in the paranormal, but often the subject of ridicule in a field that usually frowns upon narrow mindedness.
I rarely relate my own experiences because I have tried to take the focus off of myself not only in interviews with my guests, but because I feel as though I’m on a different journey of discovery right now. I, however, cannot deny when an experience related to me shares some of the same qualities as my own. Like many abductees, Paul Schroeder’s experiences in adulthood have triggered memories reaching back into his childhood. Not unlike Paul, I myself have a childhood memory that has troubled me far into the current stages of my life.
I was raised in a rural part of Illinois, just far enough south of Chicago to practically feel as though we existed in an entirely different country. My father worked third shift as an electrician at a local automotive factory and, like most men his age in that part of the country, basically worked all of the time. We had a single level ranch home at the edge of town at the end of a dead end street. Bordered on one side by the small rural town that served as our community, two cornfields and an old abandoned elementary school fenced us in on the others.
The old school was a magnet to many of the kids living on the three or four blocks surrounding the old edifice. The building itself was off limits, but the old playground was for the most part intact, and inviting to those kids whose parents couldn’t police them enough to keep them off of the property, My parents figured I was close enough to come calling with a skinned knee and let my sister (five years my senior) and I play there almost everyday. Eventually the bond between my sister and myself would wane as boys started to take interest in her and I suddenly became the annoying little. Suffice it to see that playground became more of a gathering place for her and her friends to socialize and less of a place where I would have had the social opportunity of the more often used and approved park on the other side of town. It was close however and close meant more play time and less time to-and-from.
My bedroom was less of a sanctuary than the old playground and I can remember the uneasiness I often felt alone in that room. I was an extremely difficult child to get out of my parents’ bedroom and often suffered bad dreams and night terrors that would land me back in the comfort of their bed, much to their chagrin, I’m sure. I had a closet that always felt particularly suspicious in its ominous and most sinister presence and a window that felt equally malevolent to me. It is the memory of that window, moreso than the closet that serves as muse and monster to me now.
I was no more than seven when my own stranger came calling. My favorite book was an illustrated number called “Grandpa’s Ghost Stories” In retrospect, this might be one of the earliest memories of my fascination with the bizarre. Of course, I can still only speculate if it is cause or effect. I would often have my mother read this book to me and the protagonist’s journey through the spirit world somehow excited my curiosity the way baseball cards did other children. It would not be phantoms that would hijack my fears and feed on my terror, but something else entirely.
I had no reason to wake up from my sleep and look out that window. There was no noise, no light, no reason. I just did. What I saw wouldn’t occupy even a margin note in “Grandpa’s Ghost Stories”. Children typically don’t scare other children unless they’re the school bully or have an illness that isn’t understood by the child brain. Children playing by themselves rarely scare other children at all. Instead, their lack of social brand is often viewed as an opportunity to meet another child or claim a little stake on valuable playground property.
The child that I saw playing outside of my home when I was seven, quite simply shouldn’t have been there. Not alone. Not in the middle of the night. Not looking at me, looking at him. There shouldn’t have been that much light around him. In fact, I couldn’t remember seeing exactly where the light was coming from, it was just there showing me what my eyes couldn’t in the blackness outside my window. As curious as kids are , that curiosity knows little loyalty and jumps from one thing to the next like a lonely fall wind. This child was fixated on me and when he smiled I remembered the animatronic Teddy Ruxpin that my family had purchased for me for X-Mas. It could open its mouth and even tell me a story, but it could never quite match its inflection with its robotic maw. It was a device used to mimic a very human and very simple emotion. It was supposed to endear the toy to the child and become its best friend. That’s easy for a stuffed teddy bear to do with children. They usually don’t even have to talk.
I was glad that this Teddy Ruxpin, standing spotlighted outside of my childhood home had not tried to talk. I think the awkwardness of it might have been too much even for my “Grandpa’s Ghost Stories” kid-brain to wrap itself around. As it stood, I do remember being very confused as if someone had pulled a quarter out from behind my ear; knowing that someone had just played a trick on you that had nothing to do with magic, yet still not knowing how they did it. One thought still permeates the fog between then and now: This is a kid that really isn’t a kid. I felt like I was somehow looking at an adult that had managed to disguise itself as a potential playmate. It had all the coverings of another seven year old, but its motives were far older.
This is where my memory ends and I have no idea where it comes from, or if the event itself escalated at that point in time. I only have assumptions, and they are quite varied.
So as I was listening to Paul Schroeder tell me about his experience as a child, I felt that same recognition that as different as these experiences might be in context, there are similarities that although offer little in the way of answers, might at least give clues to motive in method and process.
The abduction experience among children has some defining characteristics similar amongst experiencers. While most scenarios in the adult years are often frightening and nightmarish, the approach to children seem to be different, if not somewhat, still awkward. Children seem to be drawn into the experience, being allowed to slightly acclimate themselves to the dream like quality of the event, often looking out of a window or down a flight of stairs. Adults on the other hand, are definitely thrust into the “kid gloves are off” arena of experience. This raises a lot of questions.
I find it hard to believe that the differences here are based on any sensitivity on part of the entities. I have come to suspect that although these powerful forces are capable of emotion, it is usually of ill temperance. What then would be the provocation to adjust the methods that, albeit take no account of the subject’s well being, seem to be an across the board used routine for the adults of our species? Maybe we’ve been approaching this from the wrong direction. Maybe it’s not a misplaced politeness on the part of our invasive little visitors, but a much warranted apprehension.
What if the process of child abduction and the way it tends to vary from adult abduction is not so much preferential as precautionary? This certainly separates the sentiment from the sentient with our hosts, but it definitely follows in line with their cold and pragmatic behaviors. Again, this might not be leading us to any new answers, but it might start us on the road to asking the right questions.
I rarely relate my own experiences because I have tried to take the focus off of myself not only in interviews with my guests, but because I feel as though I’m on a different journey of discovery right now. I, however, cannot deny when an experience related to me shares some of the same qualities as my own. Like many abductees, Paul Schroeder’s experiences in adulthood have triggered memories reaching back into his childhood. Not unlike Paul, I myself have a childhood memory that has troubled me far into the current stages of my life.
I was raised in a rural part of Illinois, just far enough south of Chicago to practically feel as though we existed in an entirely different country. My father worked third shift as an electrician at a local automotive factory and, like most men his age in that part of the country, basically worked all of the time. We had a single level ranch home at the edge of town at the end of a dead end street. Bordered on one side by the small rural town that served as our community, two cornfields and an old abandoned elementary school fenced us in on the others.
The old school was a magnet to many of the kids living on the three or four blocks surrounding the old edifice. The building itself was off limits, but the old playground was for the most part intact, and inviting to those kids whose parents couldn’t police them enough to keep them off of the property, My parents figured I was close enough to come calling with a skinned knee and let my sister (five years my senior) and I play there almost everyday. Eventually the bond between my sister and myself would wane as boys started to take interest in her and I suddenly became the annoying little. Suffice it to see that playground became more of a gathering place for her and her friends to socialize and less of a place where I would have had the social opportunity of the more often used and approved park on the other side of town. It was close however and close meant more play time and less time to-and-from.
My bedroom was less of a sanctuary than the old playground and I can remember the uneasiness I often felt alone in that room. I was an extremely difficult child to get out of my parents’ bedroom and often suffered bad dreams and night terrors that would land me back in the comfort of their bed, much to their chagrin, I’m sure. I had a closet that always felt particularly suspicious in its ominous and most sinister presence and a window that felt equally malevolent to me. It is the memory of that window, moreso than the closet that serves as muse and monster to me now.
I was no more than seven when my own stranger came calling. My favorite book was an illustrated number called “Grandpa’s Ghost Stories” In retrospect, this might be one of the earliest memories of my fascination with the bizarre. Of course, I can still only speculate if it is cause or effect. I would often have my mother read this book to me and the protagonist’s journey through the spirit world somehow excited my curiosity the way baseball cards did other children. It would not be phantoms that would hijack my fears and feed on my terror, but something else entirely.
I had no reason to wake up from my sleep and look out that window. There was no noise, no light, no reason. I just did. What I saw wouldn’t occupy even a margin note in “Grandpa’s Ghost Stories”. Children typically don’t scare other children unless they’re the school bully or have an illness that isn’t understood by the child brain. Children playing by themselves rarely scare other children at all. Instead, their lack of social brand is often viewed as an opportunity to meet another child or claim a little stake on valuable playground property.
The child that I saw playing outside of my home when I was seven, quite simply shouldn’t have been there. Not alone. Not in the middle of the night. Not looking at me, looking at him. There shouldn’t have been that much light around him. In fact, I couldn’t remember seeing exactly where the light was coming from, it was just there showing me what my eyes couldn’t in the blackness outside my window. As curious as kids are , that curiosity knows little loyalty and jumps from one thing to the next like a lonely fall wind. This child was fixated on me and when he smiled I remembered the animatronic Teddy Ruxpin that my family had purchased for me for X-Mas. It could open its mouth and even tell me a story, but it could never quite match its inflection with its robotic maw. It was a device used to mimic a very human and very simple emotion. It was supposed to endear the toy to the child and become its best friend. That’s easy for a stuffed teddy bear to do with children. They usually don’t even have to talk.
I was glad that this Teddy Ruxpin, standing spotlighted outside of my childhood home had not tried to talk. I think the awkwardness of it might have been too much even for my “Grandpa’s Ghost Stories” kid-brain to wrap itself around. As it stood, I do remember being very confused as if someone had pulled a quarter out from behind my ear; knowing that someone had just played a trick on you that had nothing to do with magic, yet still not knowing how they did it. One thought still permeates the fog between then and now: This is a kid that really isn’t a kid. I felt like I was somehow looking at an adult that had managed to disguise itself as a potential playmate. It had all the coverings of another seven year old, but its motives were far older.
This is where my memory ends and I have no idea where it comes from, or if the event itself escalated at that point in time. I only have assumptions, and they are quite varied.
So as I was listening to Paul Schroeder tell me about his experience as a child, I felt that same recognition that as different as these experiences might be in context, there are similarities that although offer little in the way of answers, might at least give clues to motive in method and process.
The abduction experience among children has some defining characteristics similar amongst experiencers. While most scenarios in the adult years are often frightening and nightmarish, the approach to children seem to be different, if not somewhat, still awkward. Children seem to be drawn into the experience, being allowed to slightly acclimate themselves to the dream like quality of the event, often looking out of a window or down a flight of stairs. Adults on the other hand, are definitely thrust into the “kid gloves are off” arena of experience. This raises a lot of questions.
I find it hard to believe that the differences here are based on any sensitivity on part of the entities. I have come to suspect that although these powerful forces are capable of emotion, it is usually of ill temperance. What then would be the provocation to adjust the methods that, albeit take no account of the subject’s well being, seem to be an across the board used routine for the adults of our species? Maybe we’ve been approaching this from the wrong direction. Maybe it’s not a misplaced politeness on the part of our invasive little visitors, but a much warranted apprehension.
What if the process of child abduction and the way it tends to vary from adult abduction is not so much preferential as precautionary? This certainly separates the sentiment from the sentient with our hosts, but it definitely follows in line with their cold and pragmatic behaviors. Again, this might not be leading us to any new answers, but it might start us on the road to asking the right questions.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Redesigning the Studio: part 2
Redesigning the Studio: part 2
3-5-2009
3-5-2009
Things are coming along well with the studio and it's making us more and more psyched the more we work on it and it's really beginning to look like a proper studio. We're going to be spending more time on it this weekend to see how close to completion we can get it. Anyway, here's the part you guys have been waiting for. PICTURES!!
Check back next week for more updates!
Mark
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Redesigning the Studio
2-18-2009
We've decided that it's time for us to take off our boyhood and put on our manhood. We are going to take down the Lord of the Rings swords and Ash's hat display and turn this into a full fledged studio. I've attached some before pictures and we will keep you updated on all of the changes that are being made as they go in. I also want to give a huge thank you to Carol at http://paintit.typepad.com/ for some great advise she has given us to create the look we need. Check out her blog, she's done some amazing work.
Friday, February 6, 2009
ParaWeeks in Review
1-30-09 and 2-6-09
Yes, I know, I missed last weeks ParaWeek. But you get a two-fer this week. Last week we had an amazing experience with Charles Peden talking about pets and his psychic connection with them, and we even have an update on that. He had mentioned to our caller (Ash's mom HA) that one of her cats was having a problem with her back teeth,so she took it in to get it checked and mentioned to the vet to check that and it turned out he was spot on once again. Last night we made a big announcement of our new co-hosts, that's right, plural. We announced that Mike Gorney that has been on the past few episodes with us will be joining us along with Jacqueline LeClair A.K.A. Jackie. Jackie was with us last night to perform an on air hypnosis with me. It was a very interesting feeling. It felt as if I was in the state between waking and sleeping where you hear everything that is going on around you but you are not quite awake. Only time will tell if it worked or not.
So what has been going on in the Paranormal news for the past couple of weeks? Look into that with our good friends at www.anomalist.com. It seems that Jennifer Love Hewitt has managed to make contact with her deceased grandmother. Sure you may be thinking "oh, Mark, she just has a show called Ghost Whisperer". Nope, real life ghost wisperer James Van Praagh (I always thought that was an unnecessary use of an extra "a") seems to have got her on the line and transferred her over to Jennifer. I can only imagine what the long distance bill will be. Also it appears that ParaFactor friend Adam Davies has returned from his expedition to The Himalayans in search of the Yeti for Monster Quest. It seems that there was some injury there, we won't go into how severe it may be, but we'll try to get him on the show to promote Monster Quest and maybe talk about the cum monkey again. Also it seems that there were twice as many UFO sightings in the UK with a whopping 285 for 2008 stomping all over 2007's count of 135.
We've got some great shows lined up for you in the next few weeks. Next Thursday the 12th we've got Frank Joseph coming on to talk about Atlantis and other lost civilizations, and on the 19th we've got P.M.H. Atwater on to talk about near death experiences! We're looking forward to it!
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