Here’s a thought, and it’s not a wholly original one. We can all agree America has a fuzzy, hazy pseudo- or semi-mythology, right? We learned it in grade school. The tall tales such as George Washington’s cherry tree, Ben Franklin’s kite, Johnny Appleseed, and Paul Bunyon, the Pony Express. The bootstrap, roll-up-yer-sleeve gumption of Horatio Alger and Thomas Edison. The doomed heroes of the Alamo. The stoic courage of Lincoln.
Right after the Second World War things changed a bit. Quite a bit. In the summer of 1947, businessman and airplane enthusiast Kenneth Arnold spotted seven flying disks over the mountains of the state of Washington while on a business flight. A reporter mangled Arnold’s description of the machines, and the term “flying saucer” was born.
Which swept the nation like wildfire.
Over the next ten years, hundreds and thousands of sightings thrust the nation into a state of rapture and our government into a state of worried concern. Air Force studies were commenced and the CIA got involved in research and disinformation campaigns. Now while the idea of flying saucers intrigues and interests me for reasons of creepiness and camp, I don’t believe in extraterrestrial visitors. Yes, despite my lifelong fascination with science fiction. But I do think there were several large-scale psychological warfare studies, experimenting, and theorizing going on at this time. But I’m getting away from my thesis here.
(After writing those last couple of sentences I realize that I sound even more paranoid than saucer crash coverup enthusiasts.)
Anyway, one important component of this ten-year period was the “contactee” phenomenon. These were seemingly normal folk from various walks of life who claimed to have been contacted by the occupants of these omnipresent UFOs. Some of these contactees were learned intellectuals, others poor and street smart, but all had the gift of marketing. A score and more of books flowered that first decade. Fairs and conventions followed. All these prophets expounded the same message: we have nothing to fear from our friends from the stars; they merely wish to show us their way to enlightenment.
Then, the mythos began to subtly change.
The first recorded “abduction” occurred in the fall of 1957, in South America. In what would become patternomic, there was a strong sexual element to the event. Four years later we have the relatively famous abduction case of Betty and Barney Hill. By the late 60s and mid-70s UFO abduction became much more commonplace. Here’s were campers, loggers and fisherman inexplicably began being targeted by the dozens for abduction. The Pascagoula abductions and the Travis Walton case are probably the most famous of the two.
All right. Now things take a downright nasty turn.
Sometime in the early 80s the abduction phenomenon became the primary paradigm for UFO encounters. You know the scenario. The greys, short telepathic insect-like entities with big black almond-shaped eyes, slits for mouths, and no nose or ears, enter the victim’s bedroom. The unfortunate paralyzed semi-sleeper is mysteriously taken aboard a spaceship for a gynecological exam. Men get their version of the anatomical exam.
The mythology slowly becomes one of genetic experimentation. The greys, despite their extreme advancement, are dying out and need our fresh DNA. Or something. Authors such as Whitley Streiber, Budd Hopkins, and John Mack are significant for a large part of this becoming disseminated to the public. It’s been argued that the million-plus books of Streiber’s Communion in the late 80s, with its cover art full-faced alien grey, is resposible for shaping the image of the aliens in our minds.
Watching The Fourth Kind over the weekend just made me think about all these things. If I was a sociology major, I think I’d pursue this whole “American Mythology” aspect of UFOs and abductions in our culture for my thesis. My task is to figure out where the mythology is going next and write a book about it. (For the record, I think I have, but that project is about seven or eight projects down the road.)
Me, I’m a child of the 50s, UFO-wise. I like the thrill, the innocence and wonder of the possibility of seeing something moving under non-human intelligence in the night-time sky. I actually saw something strange and inexplicable-to-this-day as a young man myself. I’m kind of a pleasant debunker who hopes he’s wrong. I shy away from the craziness of government coverups, simply because I don’t think the government has the competance to cover up something as huge as first contact. I also shy away from the darkness of the abduction phenomenon. It’s too demonic at heart and, quite frankly, doesn’t hold up under intense scrutiny. I think it was Mack who asserted that something like 5 million people are abducted every year. That was, for me, the camel back-breaking straw, the tipping point to self-absurdity for the abduction movement. I mean, c’mon, 5 million people a year?
The whole field of this new American Mythology is like that, though. Overfilled and overflowing with landmines of ludicrosity. But I’m forced to admit there are some truly baffling and interesting nuggets in there, if you’re patient and lucky enough to find them. The Green Fireball phenomenon in New Mexico, the acorn-shaped object retrieved by the military in the woods near Kecksburg, PA, and the two weird sightings by astronomer Clyde Tombaugh (he discovered Pluto) are just a couple off the top of my head. Perhaps I’ll delve into one of them in a near-future post …
My point is, I guess, that if you assume a culture’s mythology is sort of a mirror to that culture, then the path our mythology has taken is alarming. From those early, reverent tall tales to a fascination with impossible things allegedly seen in the skies to evil creatures abducting our citizens out of their bedrooms for psychological and physical torture sessions … well, that leads me to believe that there is something twisted or warped in our culture. For at least 1.7 %, or 5 million, of us.
Right after the Second World War things changed a bit. Quite a bit. In the summer of 1947, businessman and airplane enthusiast Kenneth Arnold spotted seven flying disks over the mountains of the state of Washington while on a business flight. A reporter mangled Arnold’s description of the machines, and the term “flying saucer” was born.
Which swept the nation like wildfire.
Over the next ten years, hundreds and thousands of sightings thrust the nation into a state of rapture and our government into a state of worried concern. Air Force studies were commenced and the CIA got involved in research and disinformation campaigns. Now while the idea of flying saucers intrigues and interests me for reasons of creepiness and camp, I don’t believe in extraterrestrial visitors. Yes, despite my lifelong fascination with science fiction. But I do think there were several large-scale psychological warfare studies, experimenting, and theorizing going on at this time. But I’m getting away from my thesis here.
(After writing those last couple of sentences I realize that I sound even more paranoid than saucer crash coverup enthusiasts.)
Anyway, one important component of this ten-year period was the “contactee” phenomenon. These were seemingly normal folk from various walks of life who claimed to have been contacted by the occupants of these omnipresent UFOs. Some of these contactees were learned intellectuals, others poor and street smart, but all had the gift of marketing. A score and more of books flowered that first decade. Fairs and conventions followed. All these prophets expounded the same message: we have nothing to fear from our friends from the stars; they merely wish to show us their way to enlightenment.
Then, the mythos began to subtly change.
The first recorded “abduction” occurred in the fall of 1957, in South America. In what would become patternomic, there was a strong sexual element to the event. Four years later we have the relatively famous abduction case of Betty and Barney Hill. By the late 60s and mid-70s UFO abduction became much more commonplace. Here’s were campers, loggers and fisherman inexplicably began being targeted by the dozens for abduction. The Pascagoula abductions and the Travis Walton case are probably the most famous of the two.
All right. Now things take a downright nasty turn.
Sometime in the early 80s the abduction phenomenon became the primary paradigm for UFO encounters. You know the scenario. The greys, short telepathic insect-like entities with big black almond-shaped eyes, slits for mouths, and no nose or ears, enter the victim’s bedroom. The unfortunate paralyzed semi-sleeper is mysteriously taken aboard a spaceship for a gynecological exam. Men get their version of the anatomical exam.
The mythology slowly becomes one of genetic experimentation. The greys, despite their extreme advancement, are dying out and need our fresh DNA. Or something. Authors such as Whitley Streiber, Budd Hopkins, and John Mack are significant for a large part of this becoming disseminated to the public. It’s been argued that the million-plus books of Streiber’s Communion in the late 80s, with its cover art full-faced alien grey, is resposible for shaping the image of the aliens in our minds.
Watching The Fourth Kind over the weekend just made me think about all these things. If I was a sociology major, I think I’d pursue this whole “American Mythology” aspect of UFOs and abductions in our culture for my thesis. My task is to figure out where the mythology is going next and write a book about it. (For the record, I think I have, but that project is about seven or eight projects down the road.)
Me, I’m a child of the 50s, UFO-wise. I like the thrill, the innocence and wonder of the possibility of seeing something moving under non-human intelligence in the night-time sky. I actually saw something strange and inexplicable-to-this-day as a young man myself. I’m kind of a pleasant debunker who hopes he’s wrong. I shy away from the craziness of government coverups, simply because I don’t think the government has the competance to cover up something as huge as first contact. I also shy away from the darkness of the abduction phenomenon. It’s too demonic at heart and, quite frankly, doesn’t hold up under intense scrutiny. I think it was Mack who asserted that something like 5 million people are abducted every year. That was, for me, the camel back-breaking straw, the tipping point to self-absurdity for the abduction movement. I mean, c’mon, 5 million people a year?
The whole field of this new American Mythology is like that, though. Overfilled and overflowing with landmines of ludicrosity. But I’m forced to admit there are some truly baffling and interesting nuggets in there, if you’re patient and lucky enough to find them. The Green Fireball phenomenon in New Mexico, the acorn-shaped object retrieved by the military in the woods near Kecksburg, PA, and the two weird sightings by astronomer Clyde Tombaugh (he discovered Pluto) are just a couple off the top of my head. Perhaps I’ll delve into one of them in a near-future post …
My point is, I guess, that if you assume a culture’s mythology is sort of a mirror to that culture, then the path our mythology has taken is alarming. From those early, reverent tall tales to a fascination with impossible things allegedly seen in the skies to evil creatures abducting our citizens out of their bedrooms for psychological and physical torture sessions … well, that leads me to believe that there is something twisted or warped in our culture. For at least 1.7 %, or 5 million, of us.
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