Why UFOs? Part 2: Space brothers

This is Part 2 of a reflection on why, despite all reasons not to, the UFO phenomenon fascinates me to this day.

As I blogged in Part 1, the UFO bug bit me at around age seven after pulling a book from a shelf in my local library. Yet another unsolicited testimonial as to how libraries corrupt the young. I kid, I kid.

I mentioned in that post that one of the library books published a photo of a saucer-shaped UFO, all in black and white and typically fuzzy and grainy. It was the caption that got me, though: "The witness of this UFO also claims to have met the occupants of the craft." It was exciting enough for my young mind to drink in narratives of flying saucers, but to add in actual face-to-face encounters with aliens? How do I get in on that sweet action?

One of the books even had a photo taken by a police officer of a purported bipedal alien in a spacesuit.

Imagine my disappointment years later to learn that it was a guy covered in aluminum foil. 

Many other early encounters I read about sounded positively heartwarming. A bit unnerving, perhaps, just from fear of the unknown, but all in all a positive experience that someone could really get behind. The aliens weren't at all like the malignant types I saw in any of the various iterations of "invade the Earth" scenarios I saw in my science fiction shows. Instead, they were completely human-like in appearance. Perhaps more human than human.

They were tall, well over six feet. Their hair was blonde and their skin was described as being perfect. They came with a message for humanity: peace. As I kept reading, I found that there was a man who had been having interactions with these aliens for years. He even got a ride on one of the UFOs, the lucky schmuck. His name was George Adamski.

That's George, pictured with an artistic rendition of one the aliens.

Starting in 1946, Adamski claimed to have seen dozens and dozens of UFOs. On November 20th, 1952, he brought of group of friends to a remote spot in California, where they saw a massive, cigar-shaped object. Adamski claimed that the ship was looking for him, and ran off from his group of friends to attempt contact with the craft. After returning a while later, Adamski claimed that he met a being named "Orthon" who was reportedly from Venus. Orthon was described as being of average height, with tan skin and long, blonde hair. "His trousers were night like mine," Adamski added.

"The presence of this inhabitant of Venus was like the warm embrace of great love and understanding wisdom," Adamski said. Orthon professed concern about humanity's warlike tendencies, particularly our willingness to use nuclear weapons. Likewise disturbing was our mistreatment of our environment. As I mentioned earlier, Adamski claimed to have a longstanding, friendly relationship with these Venusians. He claims they even took him to the Moon, where saw cities and flourishing forests. What's more, Adamski published books about his interplanetary friendships in effort to let the world know that the "Space Brothers," as he called them, are looking out for humanity and have valuable lessons to impart if we will only listen. A whole movement began to build around Adamski, as more and more witnesses claimed to have met "the Space Brothers."

Young Jon ate these stories up. Why wouldn't he? Adamski even had convincing photos of the UFOs he witnessed and they are far clearer than their contemporary counterparts. Sadly, there wasn't much evidence for Adamski's accounts and as you might have guessed, Venus was determined to be uninhabitable and the Moon was found lacking any trees or buildings. The UFO photos Adamski published were found to be faked using a surgical lamp in a few cases and the top of an air conditioner in others. It wasn't long before people were using words and phrases like "hoax" and even "con man."

I get it though. The rhetorical stance of the "aliens" in the narrative at this point is one of benignity in the extreme. They are single-hearted and want only to help us after we have lost our way. The threat of nuclear war is a scary thing. Anyone who lived through the Cold War will tell you that. The 1950s and 1960s also saw a burgeoning sense that our environment was feeling the pressure and strain from fossil fuels and massive consumption. Now, we're looking at the whole world falling apart from it, but not many seem to want to even consider the notion. Indeed, many would rather burn more coal.

Maybe if aliens said something we'd listen.

You can see that them at work in the films of the 1950s, especially The Day the Earth Stood Still. The message Klaatu, the quite human-looking alien from the film, has is a stern, paternal, "Get it together, humans. Or we'll do it for you and you won't like it." The message of the Space Brothers is similar, but expressed with far more peace and love.

It intrigues me how much this area of the narrative matches religious beliefs. Allow me to explain.

I have made no attempts to hide just how difficult the past year and a half have been for me. If I am to be fully honest, I could palpably sense a small child inside me at times, silently crying, "Mom, Dad, fix this. Because I can't." I believe reports of these "Space Brothers" are born out the same need. War is a horrible thing, and it can feel like whether it starts or not is out of the hands of the average person. I made a snide remark earlier about no one wanting to face climate change, but really, who does? How do we tackle something so large and looming, and face an effort so herculean?

If only there were a higher power that loved us, looked out for us, and could fix things when they break, while we can only sit immobilized on the floor, tears streaming down our cheeks.   

For a few brief years in elementary school, I thought the Space Brothers might do that for us. Who wouldn't be comforted by such a story? I mean, read once more the description of these aliens. Tell me there aren't deep similarities between them and Christian depictions of angels. I also must wonder what this narrative says about us when the savior aliens are said to be more Caucasian than most Caucasians. Not sure I like where that might lead.

Despite the wide discrediting of George Adamski, "contactees" to this day still claim to encounter the "Space Brothers," only now these aliens are called "Nordics" and they are said to be from the Pleiades star cluster. Guess that's because Venus didn't pan out. I'm not surprised the sightings continue. Our problems remain massive and our solutions are few. Humans still cry for someone to save us and the composed narratives reflect that yearning. Perhaps these stories are generated by our collective subconscious, arguing to us what we already know deep down: Things aren't right. Fix them.

I mentioned last time that the UFO narrative also held a strong strand of fear to it. After reading about these benevolent, Nordic-looking aliens, you might wonder where any fear would come from. Don't worry. It gets creepy next time.

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