UFOlogy
Our Crazy UFO Marriage is Headed for Divorce
As the world grapples with UFO/UAP reality, the old ways of doing business need to stay relevant. More resonance, please.
Tomorrow morning I have the privilege of telling my best friend my favorite words besides “I love you” and “Thanks for the coffee.” I get to say “Happy Anniversary!”
It’s not just any old number, it’s a pretty significant one. By the general measure of the internet, we have reached a milestone called “Successful Marriage.” Twenty Years.
I’ve only done a few things for twenty years straight. I’m a little over an eighth of the way through my third twenty of living, but boasting about living is the epitome of preaching to the choir. I managed to stay in the Navy for twenty years without getting fired or demoted. Granted I reached terminal pay grade in eight and a half years and then stalled. That pay grade put me in a bracket of one-percenters or so we’re told. Let’s not forget that all that prideful praise is just a means to hand the mule his own whip knowing he will gladly continue the beatings for you.
The only other thing worth noting is only vaguely half my doing, and that is still being married. “Still being married” sounds about as heartwarming as microwaved white bread, but in this era, it is a badge that earns the kind of whispered pleas usually reserved for the beautiful, holy, and lucky:
“What’s your secret?!”
In one word, it is resonance.
For us, it was realizing neither of us understood what being human was all about and that we both wanted to discover the answer together. Granted that’s my answer, my wife’s would be as sarcastically loving as sitcoms have taught us to expect.
We are not just “still married” though. We are dedicated to the same goals and put those shared goals ahead of our own. Not every time, often with failure, but as much as we are able with a promise not to give up. Love is the culmination of all those things; effortless when given away and so very rare when demanded.
In retrospect, we learned a few things. We had been handed incomplete handbooks for life by our predecessors (and mentioning that to them in any way triggers defensive shame). Active listening is a dying art but teachable. Compassion is greater than Empathy and Vulnerability and Forgiveness can bring radical healing.
We are human beings, we have each and all been molded by others into something different than the formless mass of clay we were born as. No matter what shape we find our vessel in upon awakening, we are responsible for reworking and firing our clay into something that will carry water. Some find that unfair and use that as their excuse to beat their vessel into dust while blaming others and the world. Some find a reason to fuel their fire to improve their heart, celebrate others, and decorate their container.
Just WTF does this have to do with UFOs?
Well, as someone who just laid out the humbly-boastful premise that I can recognize the surplus or lack of humanity and compassion in a relationship, let me just say to UFOlogy in general —
It sure looks like y’all are headed for a divorce.
There’s a lot of prideful salt being sewn by people who while perhaps valid, well-intentioned, and even brilliant in their research, are showing their immaturity with their tantrums over the manner of disclosure and the players taking away a spotlight that never quite shined on them.
Some pretty simple web searches can quickly mine some snarky comebacks that have a deep state, green text, trollish stink. Here’s a few —
“Military Industrial Complex”
“Limited Hangout”
“Boys’ Club”
While all of those phrases have meaning and value, as a veteran, I find the worship of military and government officials as distasteful and hyperbolic as your next person but you have forgotten a few important words like honor, courage, commitment, loyalty, and sacrifice.
All of the things you hope to expose if true were carried out by fearless men like these. Whether you hope for crash retrieval, biological retrieval, or exopolitical data, these are the badasses that were willing to face what drives others mad and won’t reveal its true nature to the rest of us.
Let’s put this in black and white.
Just who and where the heck do people expect the actual secrets to come from?
Who really thinks that a handful of folks with torches are going to break the truth out of the Bastille-like fortress of government? When the gates of the famous Parisian Fortress finally opened, heads literally rolled in the street.
My metaphor is not a thinly veiled call to arms or radical action but, instead, a call once again to mindful observation.
You can say limited hangout and show how much it hurts that you were not invited. You can cry that people being former government insiders is somehow a minus and that personally curated internet research coupled with copious anonymous sources is better than “Ran the Damn Program.”
“If you knew what I knew…”
Bro, spare us. Spare us the cruises, the conferences, the minor branding, and ugly displays of rural tent preacher grossness.
The kids are watching one side of this marriage do what humans do best — adapt the information they have to the environment they find to overcome an obstacle they have encountered. They are venturing out of the cave and getting daylight on their face and people are paying attention. The party is starting.
The other parent is huddled with a bottle in the dark muttering, “But what about all my hard work? No one loves me… what about fishing, That was cool, right? Remember ice-cream? No… no one remembers me!”
The crumpled invitation to the party clutched in their hands is getting hard to read with all the tears and the snot. The laughter from the party outside hurts so badly that they just start sobbing and moaning louder. The kids can hear so their spouse puts on a smile and brings a slice of cake. That just reminds our sorrowful friend of the cake they promised to bake from scratch but forgot. Again.
Back to this relationship metaphor, some would say:
“But the spouse in the dark was abused by their former lovers and is scarred, how can they trust…”
That’s the rub. It’s not the spouse that keeps checking on you, that tries to shield you from your own narcissistic projection that you are angry with.
It’s not even yourself, even if it seems that way.
You’re mad at your perceived inability to resonate and you fear your song being drowned out. I think everyone can understand that fear, but I think it is limiting and holding you back from what you really want, not egoic heroism, but the real truth.
I think some see themselves as some kind of Robespierre that is going to bring justice and truth to the public if they… could… just… have a few hours of your time to show you a really intriguing Powerpoint.
Resonance
When a traveling orchestra comes to town, do the local amateur musicians usually band together to try and get the public to ignore professional music? Insider music? Audiences are limited hang-outs! No. They’d get pummeled with programs and playbills and beat with their bassoons.
I know many who will jump to claim abuse by the Military-Industrial Complex. Okay, cool. When you identify those cats, let me know. These are not those guys. These are the guys risking pension, integrity, jail time, families, and lives to help the rest of us learn what they know.
So far they are doing it with nonpartisan humility and professionalism. I believe that momentum will only increase and stabilize. I know some people’s livelihoods are on the line, but I have made clear in the past how I feel about that. Charge what you need for effort and hard work and creative endeavors. But locking Barnum-esque “secrets” behind your own paywall? Nope.
We can all see the people begging on Patreon with their never-ending and never materializing conspiracies. If you just send some more money they can share special info from the ascended masters and they promise to send pics of their new jet ski. We can all see those who lack humility and those who are tantruming.
You’re embarrassing yourselves. Some of you are acting like those folks on the internet losing their shit in public for really bad reasons. Of course, there are always other traumatized narcissists who will back up your right to use insults and name-calling… but not me.
I’m calling on you to resonate. Get your shit together and get on board for the big win.
This is that tough love talk because I don’t want to see you fail. I’m just a tiny voice with a very limited reach. I measure the change I affect on the world in single-digit numbers and a handful of messages that say I’ve helped some folks notice themselves.
If I wait the rest of my life for that number to go up one more tick, it won’t change my focus on the real goal — exposing our shared reality. That limited audience of mine aside, I know quite a few influential people who keep up with my stuff, so here it is —
Do you want “big D” Disclosure? Because there is only one “side” for that. That side understands how secrets are kept, how secrets are made unclassified, and how to affect change in that world. This isn’t the lecture circuit and these folks don’t want your booth space. An audience of five-hundred won’t change things. An audience of five-million might move the ball.
The kids are watching. They’re old enough to know you’ve been hurt but also know you’re being selfish and blaming the one you chose to save you.
Now the public is watching you too. That lack of resonance is becoming thematic. The egoic resistance is reminding me of Daffy Duck clutching a pearl and yelling “Mine” over and over.
Widen your focus. Come outside and have some cake. There’s still time. This marriage is worth saving. Here’s a towel, get cleaned up.
Let’s resonate and unlock the rest together.
