Abducted!
In this post I will share with you a terrifying personal account of alien abduction. Sit back and behold the story of how a skeptic turned into a believer. Let me first assure you that I am neither crazy nor a liar. That's a false dichotomy that many non-believers use when evaluating claims like the one I am about to make. I am not crazy, so believe me when I tell you that I really believe what I'm saying. For you cynical pseudoskeptics out there1: this is not just another story fit for the trash heap of anecdotal evidence regarding visits from outer space. This is real, so allow me to mitigate your doubts.
Let me start from the very beginning. During the day it was business as usual, with no considerable deviations from my daily routines. After a demanding day of intellectual achievements at work, I was driving home on the interstate when suddenly two blinking bright lights appeared in the distance. They were hovering at a constant distance above my car, displaying an utterly quaint behaviour.
Indeed I was startled, but my immediate conclusion was of course not that I was stalked by Visitors From Outer Space - I gave it no further thought. At that time, I would've thought that it was an airplane or something.
I glanced at the clock: it was 8 P.M., give or take a minute or two. As I arrived at my manor, I took notice of a parked car outside. It turned out to be yet another member of mine and Mr. Reed's immense and rabid female fanbase. She sat just outside the gates, holding a cute parasol and patiently awaiting my arrival. In these situations, what alternative does one have apart from granting the ladies that which they seek? Apropos, I really do have nothing against our feline stalkers.
Next thing I know, I am lying naked on my bed with a pumping and agonising headache. On my nightstand I notice a half-empty glass of bourbon and two black fishnet stockings. Placed on the same nightstand is also an alarm clock - it says 9:30 P.M.. By this time I'm starting to get the creeps.
Missing time! As I've read and seen in contemporary popular fiction, this is an undisputable sign of alien abduction. Nevertheless, as a rational person, I'm was not inclined to accept such an extraordinary explanation without good reasons. If we are to apply Ockham's razor2: A simpler hypothesis (i.e. one that does not demand that we acknowledge the existence of aliens) states that the gosurori girl roofied and took advantage of me for the sake of her own sexual gratification. This theory is also flawed, since I would have given my consent to such activities without her having to resort to introducing foreign substances into my system. Alas, both theories rest on shaky ground.
Now to the rest of the evening. I put on my dressing gown and summoned my butler, ordering light dinner to be served within the hour. After finishing this meal, I withdrew to my study and surrendered myself to the physical comfortableness of my armchair, pursuing further groundbreaking intellectual inquiries. At about 11 P.M. I decided it was time to call it a night, so I initiated the evening routines.
While brushing my teeth, I heard a damp hovering sound outside the bathroom window. The sound was succeeded by a loud thud. Could've been anything, right? At least I initially thought so. Opening the small doors of the window overlooking a large rapeseed field outside my manor, I was puzzled to see some quite consistent asymmetries in the field. I couldn't distinguish exactly what they were, yet at a distance they seemed to have striking similarities with crop circles.3 You know, like in the movie (which I haven't seen) "Signs".4
I shrugged it off and assured myself that I'd investigate it in the morning. Come on, crop circles, only lunatics believe in extraterrestrial explanations for that shit, right? Since there historically have been numerous of instances of fraud when crop circles appear5, I felt somewhat reassured by my in my opinion sound skeptical stance.
Slamming the window shut, cursing the idiocy of such absurd beliefs, I went straightly to bed, looking forward to a long and undisturbed night's sleep. As is normal after a long day of arduous work, I dozed off quickly, travelling deeper and deeper into the land of the Sandman. I don't know the exact duration of the sleep, but I suddenly woke up paralysed, sensing an unknown (evil?) presence in the room.
To my horror, I saw that surrounding me were three small green, or possibly grey, men. Their terrible, huge eyes were staring at me and I was unable to even slightly move any given limb of my body.6 I tried to scream, but couldn't produce a sound. It was easily realizable that these men were indeed of alien origin, possessing what to us would seem to be powers derived from ESP7,8, as they telepathically ordered me to "calm down, Earthling, you are in no danger".
After that I must've blacked out, because the next thing I can remember is lying in a pool of sweat on the floor next to my bed. The clock was now 5:22 A.M.. More missing time! Put together, all of these events seemed very unlikely to be purely coincidental.
As you would gather, I couldn't go back to sleep. Still in a state of panic, I gave Mr. Reed a ring, effectively waking him up. Surly as he is when woken up, he wouldn't at first listen to my amazing story, but after he realised the seriousness of the situation, he was all ears.
I tried to explain the experience as coherently as I could, but the memories were so vivid and frightening that I couldn't quite make sense of them. As I hung up the telephone, I remembered something. When I previously had researched alleged occurrences of alien abduction, I came across a few methods that abductees use to regain their lost (possibly erased) memories.
One of these methods is known as regression hypnosis, a form of hypnotherapy9 also prominently used to uncover the mysteries of past lives. No matter how dubious these practices are and no matter how much heat and discredit they've received from the Establishment, now was not the time for skepticism. All evidence appeared to converge to a sole possible conclusion - abduction by alien lifeforms.
Rummaging through the telephone book, I had no trouble finding a licensed hypnotherapist. This one even specialised in cases of lost/missing/suppressed memories! Since I was desperate to find out what had really happened to me I insisted on seeing him right away. In spite of the shameless pricing for his services ($25 a minute), I decided to book a 2 P.M. appointment.
When I arrived at his office, strangely enough located in the shabby district of Lower Quarters, I was excessively impressed by all the fancy diplomas hanging on the wall behind the desk in his reception. Couldn't quite make out what they were saying, though, but it was abundantly clear that this was a certified and cultivated man.
The therapist began swinging a pendulum in front of my eyes, while instructing me to take deep breaths. This procedure supposedly helps me to access my subconscious, releasing my consciousness from the oppressive grip of reality10, in order to tap into my inner potential, etc.
"I want you to travel back in time to last night. Try to remember the cause of your frightening experience. What do you see?"
"I remember waking up in terror. It's so unreal, almost like in a dream."
"But you're not dreaming, are you?"
"Well, I suppose not... Yes, it's real."
"You feel frightened and can't move. How many entities are standing by your bed?"
"I... well... three."
"What are they doing to you?"
"They're... doing weird things to me. I'm lifted by a bright beam."
"Are they abducting you?"
"Aboard a ship. A magnificent technological creation. I remember now. I see other people. They are being probed."
"Time's up. You may awaken from the trance when I snap my fingers. That'll be $300."11
"Thank you, thank you! I feel so vindicated."
"You're welcome, back."
The doctor subsequently informed me about a abductee group therapy session. I haven't attended it, but I'm positive that getting involved with like-minded individuals will elucidate my vague memories. I wasn't aware that these things were so common!
At this point I submit that it wouldn't be controversial to call me crazy, but can you call a professor crazy? Pulitzer Prize-winning Professor John E. Mack12 of the acclaimed Harvard Medical School was a believer up till his untimely death in 2004.13
The circumstances surrounding his fatal accident still remain clouded with controversy. Some Ph.D. conspiracy theorists have argued that they silenced his controversial voice. I fear that the same fate may soon befall me. In that case, this post is my living will. Should I perish from unnatural causes, you must make this fact known to the world.
Misguided skepticism will not change reality. In reality the fact is that they are already here. What is now crucial is action. It's obvious that they (and they) have infiltrated major governmental positions. It's also clear that the popular maxim trust no one is pivotal for survival in this day and age, where technology runs amok and the only electable people are pathological liars and traitors to their fellow citizens. To save ourselves, we must unveil the truth.
The first step is to protect yourself. Obtain a tin-foil hat if you do not yet have one. Their shielding effect against the spy satellites' mind controlling rays have been scientifically proven.14
We must organise. Meet me behind the shed in two nights after the next full moon. May the power of the tin-foil hat be with you.
Notes:
1. Suppressedscience.net, "Some notes on Skepticism" (link)
2. The Skeptic's Dictionary, "Occam's razor" (link to entry)
3. Ibid., "Crop Circles" (link to entry)
4. The Internet Movie Database, "Signs" (link)
5. Scientific American, August 2002, "Crop Circle Confession" (online article)
6. The Sleep Well, Stanford University, "Sleep paralysis" (link)
7. The Skeptic's Dictionary, "ESP" (link to entry)
8. Ibid., "Telepathy" (link to entry)
9. BBC Health. Category: Healthy living -> Complementary medicine -> Therapies -> Hypnotherapy (link)
10. A social construct, according to some deluded people.
11. Podgor, Ellen S., 1999, Criminal fraud, American University Law Review, Vol. 48 (link to pdf article)
12. Ufopsi biography on John E. Mack (link)
13. John E. Mack Institute, "Passing of Dr. John Mack" (link)
14. Rahimi et al., 2005, On the Effectiveness of Aluminium Foil Helmets: An Empirical Study, Massachusetts Institute of Technology. (link)
Let me start from the very beginning. During the day it was business as usual, with no considerable deviations from my daily routines. After a demanding day of intellectual achievements at work, I was driving home on the interstate when suddenly two blinking bright lights appeared in the distance. They were hovering at a constant distance above my car, displaying an utterly quaint behaviour.
Indeed I was startled, but my immediate conclusion was of course not that I was stalked by Visitors From Outer Space - I gave it no further thought. At that time, I would've thought that it was an airplane or something.
I glanced at the clock: it was 8 P.M., give or take a minute or two. As I arrived at my manor, I took notice of a parked car outside. It turned out to be yet another member of mine and Mr. Reed's immense and rabid female fanbase. She sat just outside the gates, holding a cute parasol and patiently awaiting my arrival. In these situations, what alternative does one have apart from granting the ladies that which they seek? Apropos, I really do have nothing against our feline stalkers.
Next thing I know, I am lying naked on my bed with a pumping and agonising headache. On my nightstand I notice a half-empty glass of bourbon and two black fishnet stockings. Placed on the same nightstand is also an alarm clock - it says 9:30 P.M.. By this time I'm starting to get the creeps.
Missing time! As I've read and seen in contemporary popular fiction, this is an undisputable sign of alien abduction. Nevertheless, as a rational person, I'm was not inclined to accept such an extraordinary explanation without good reasons. If we are to apply Ockham's razor2: A simpler hypothesis (i.e. one that does not demand that we acknowledge the existence of aliens) states that the gosurori girl roofied and took advantage of me for the sake of her own sexual gratification. This theory is also flawed, since I would have given my consent to such activities without her having to resort to introducing foreign substances into my system. Alas, both theories rest on shaky ground.
Now to the rest of the evening. I put on my dressing gown and summoned my butler, ordering light dinner to be served within the hour. After finishing this meal, I withdrew to my study and surrendered myself to the physical comfortableness of my armchair, pursuing further groundbreaking intellectual inquiries. At about 11 P.M. I decided it was time to call it a night, so I initiated the evening routines.
While brushing my teeth, I heard a damp hovering sound outside the bathroom window. The sound was succeeded by a loud thud. Could've been anything, right? At least I initially thought so. Opening the small doors of the window overlooking a large rapeseed field outside my manor, I was puzzled to see some quite consistent asymmetries in the field. I couldn't distinguish exactly what they were, yet at a distance they seemed to have striking similarities with crop circles.3 You know, like in the movie (which I haven't seen) "Signs".4
I shrugged it off and assured myself that I'd investigate it in the morning. Come on, crop circles, only lunatics believe in extraterrestrial explanations for that shit, right? Since there historically have been numerous of instances of fraud when crop circles appear5, I felt somewhat reassured by my in my opinion sound skeptical stance.
Slamming the window shut, cursing the idiocy of such absurd beliefs, I went straightly to bed, looking forward to a long and undisturbed night's sleep. As is normal after a long day of arduous work, I dozed off quickly, travelling deeper and deeper into the land of the Sandman. I don't know the exact duration of the sleep, but I suddenly woke up paralysed, sensing an unknown (evil?) presence in the room.
To my horror, I saw that surrounding me were three small green, or possibly grey, men. Their terrible, huge eyes were staring at me and I was unable to even slightly move any given limb of my body.6 I tried to scream, but couldn't produce a sound. It was easily realizable that these men were indeed of alien origin, possessing what to us would seem to be powers derived from ESP7,8, as they telepathically ordered me to "calm down, Earthling, you are in no danger".
After that I must've blacked out, because the next thing I can remember is lying in a pool of sweat on the floor next to my bed. The clock was now 5:22 A.M.. More missing time! Put together, all of these events seemed very unlikely to be purely coincidental.
As you would gather, I couldn't go back to sleep. Still in a state of panic, I gave Mr. Reed a ring, effectively waking him up. Surly as he is when woken up, he wouldn't at first listen to my amazing story, but after he realised the seriousness of the situation, he was all ears.
I tried to explain the experience as coherently as I could, but the memories were so vivid and frightening that I couldn't quite make sense of them. As I hung up the telephone, I remembered something. When I previously had researched alleged occurrences of alien abduction, I came across a few methods that abductees use to regain their lost (possibly erased) memories.
One of these methods is known as regression hypnosis, a form of hypnotherapy9 also prominently used to uncover the mysteries of past lives. No matter how dubious these practices are and no matter how much heat and discredit they've received from the Establishment, now was not the time for skepticism. All evidence appeared to converge to a sole possible conclusion - abduction by alien lifeforms.
Rummaging through the telephone book, I had no trouble finding a licensed hypnotherapist. This one even specialised in cases of lost/missing/suppressed memories! Since I was desperate to find out what had really happened to me I insisted on seeing him right away. In spite of the shameless pricing for his services ($25 a minute), I decided to book a 2 P.M. appointment.
When I arrived at his office, strangely enough located in the shabby district of Lower Quarters, I was excessively impressed by all the fancy diplomas hanging on the wall behind the desk in his reception. Couldn't quite make out what they were saying, though, but it was abundantly clear that this was a certified and cultivated man.
The therapist began swinging a pendulum in front of my eyes, while instructing me to take deep breaths. This procedure supposedly helps me to access my subconscious, releasing my consciousness from the oppressive grip of reality10, in order to tap into my inner potential, etc.
"I want you to travel back in time to last night. Try to remember the cause of your frightening experience. What do you see?"
"I remember waking up in terror. It's so unreal, almost like in a dream."
"But you're not dreaming, are you?"
"Well, I suppose not... Yes, it's real."
"You feel frightened and can't move. How many entities are standing by your bed?"
"I... well... three."
"What are they doing to you?"
"They're... doing weird things to me. I'm lifted by a bright beam."
"Are they abducting you?"
"Aboard a ship. A magnificent technological creation. I remember now. I see other people. They are being probed."
"Time's up. You may awaken from the trance when I snap my fingers. That'll be $300."11
"Thank you, thank you! I feel so vindicated."
"You're welcome, back."
The doctor subsequently informed me about a abductee group therapy session. I haven't attended it, but I'm positive that getting involved with like-minded individuals will elucidate my vague memories. I wasn't aware that these things were so common!
At this point I submit that it wouldn't be controversial to call me crazy, but can you call a professor crazy? Pulitzer Prize-winning Professor John E. Mack12 of the acclaimed Harvard Medical School was a believer up till his untimely death in 2004.13
The circumstances surrounding his fatal accident still remain clouded with controversy. Some Ph.D. conspiracy theorists have argued that they silenced his controversial voice. I fear that the same fate may soon befall me. In that case, this post is my living will. Should I perish from unnatural causes, you must make this fact known to the world.
Misguided skepticism will not change reality. In reality the fact is that they are already here. What is now crucial is action. It's obvious that they (and they) have infiltrated major governmental positions. It's also clear that the popular maxim trust no one is pivotal for survival in this day and age, where technology runs amok and the only electable people are pathological liars and traitors to their fellow citizens. To save ourselves, we must unveil the truth.
The first step is to protect yourself. Obtain a tin-foil hat if you do not yet have one. Their shielding effect against the spy satellites' mind controlling rays have been scientifically proven.14
We must organise. Meet me behind the shed in two nights after the next full moon. May the power of the tin-foil hat be with you.
Notes:
1. Suppressedscience.net, "Some notes on Skepticism" (link)
2. The Skeptic's Dictionary, "Occam's razor" (link to entry)
3. Ibid., "Crop Circles" (link to entry)
4. The Internet Movie Database, "Signs" (link)
5. Scientific American, August 2002, "Crop Circle Confession" (online article)
6. The Sleep Well, Stanford University, "Sleep paralysis" (link)
7. The Skeptic's Dictionary, "ESP" (link to entry)
8. Ibid., "Telepathy" (link to entry)
9. BBC Health. Category: Healthy living -> Complementary medicine -> Therapies -> Hypnotherapy (link)
10. A social construct, according to some deluded people.
11. Podgor, Ellen S., 1999, Criminal fraud, American University Law Review, Vol. 48 (link to pdf article)
12. Ufopsi biography on John E. Mack (link)
13. John E. Mack Institute, "Passing of Dr. John Mack" (link)
14. Rahimi et al., 2005, On the Effectiveness of Aluminium Foil Helmets: An Empirical Study, Massachusetts Institute of Technology. (link)
posted by J.R. Libel at 20:56
3 Comments:
The manor isn't safe anymroe. We must get you somewhere where they can't reach you... Call me ASAP so we can make proper arrangements.
The conflict has escalated and I can feel the eschatological vibes. I may elaborate further on that...
Perhaps you are right in saying that my haven isn't safe anymroe. Just like a tainted napkin it is of no use. For your safety I suggest that we relocate altogether.
Agreed. We are already starting to get visitors from www.uforeview.net/m.htm and highly dubios web searches.
It's not safe anymore for either of us.
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