I glanced at CNN yesterday morning, just as I always do.
Yeah, yeah, I know. But it’s only for a quick rundown. When
I read in-depth I go elsewhere.
Anyway, the usual stories of global collapse were there.
Israel/Gaza, Ukraine, environmental pollution. There was, however, a new and
odd addition.
UFOs.
The new program the Pentagon launched to collect UFO (or UAP
as its officially been designated) data has received a windfall of reports. To
the possible dismay of the “true believer” crowd, the vast majority of these reports
have already been identified as prosaic in origin, such as balloons or civilian
drones.
I wonder if I could start a trend of calling them “over-the-counter
drones”?
This program stems in part from a Congressional hearing on
UFOs last July, where it was basically agreed that if there are these UAP
sightings at or near US military airspace, we should probably take the reports
seriously regardless of any stigma.
Reasonable.
Said same hearing also featured David Grusch, a former USAF
officer and intelligence official who asserted that the government is
possession of both “non-human spacecraft” and “biological material” from those
supposedly acquired craft. When asked for any concrete evidence to support his
assertion, Grusch said that would require the hearing to go to closed session.
Which they did. If any names or files were given up, we don’t
know.
I’m not sure I care, either.
That’s a staggering realization to come to considering posts
I’ve written, and hopes I’ve held far earlier in life. At this point, I’m too
overwhelmed to give the subject any energy. There are too many immediate
concerns.
Things have changed considerably for us this year, as they
do for most anyone as they age and pivot to care for those who once took care
of us. Also, my workload keeps increasing, or so it feels. Conversely, the
value of what I do seems to be viewed in an increasingly dim lit by American
society as a whole. In turn, I question my own value. If you’ve read my book,
then you know how viscerally I’ve come to realize how one good shove in the
right place can send all the dominoes tumbling, and your life goes to pieces. What
will I do if it all falls out from under me again? Especially at my age?
I have bills to pay, a wife who needs tacos, and a dog to
send to college.
Seriously, I have been on close, personal terms with the Nietzschean
abyss the past few months. As turmoil plays out in my microcosm, terrors, both
foreign and domestic, burgeon and boil over in the macrocosm, threatening all
of us. How do I keep the ones I love safe in such insanity? So unless they’re
somehow going to fix my problems, the revelation of an alien presence on Earth
wouldn’t mean much to me in the face of the existential. Would it really change
much, or would we be too immersed in our own very real problems to even care?
Somewhere, I think I hear 8 year-old Jon wailing.
