As part of what’s up here, I’m given to monitoring certain social media sites as a kind of ethnographic observer. The satirical piece, “Ufo page discussion comment” below, is developed from my field notes. Regrettably, WordPress doesn’t allow me reproduce the text’s redactions, so I append it as a PDF.
Category: poems
“Tethers into Contact” avant le lettre
Anyone who had a chance to catch Diana Pasulka’s plenary address at the recent Archives of the Impossible conference (my notes, here), will know that the promotion of her new book, tentatively titled Tethers into Contact, has begun. Where American Cosmic dealt, more or less, with certain technoscientific elites and their fascination with UFOs and related matters, this latest work shifts focus (as I understand it) to those researchers who are developing technologies that enable the exploration of nonlocal spaces, Pasulka’s working metaphor being James Cameron’s Avatar.
However, back in 2019, Q’ shared this crumb with Skunkworksblog that arguably spilled the beans on at least one version of this research…
SSP a “Blue Herring”
The Stargate Project: Swedenborg Protocols
C12H16N2 Spirit Molecule
C12H17N2O4P Spore Drive
Mantids in Hyperspaces
C13H16CINO Lilly’s K-Drive
White Hat ECCO Black Hat SSI
Shaman’s Drum
Soul Torus in visible spectrum
“U”LP
Techniques of the Sacred
Q’
“In ghostlier demarcations, keener sounds”: some haunting echoes between UFOs and ghosts
A clipping of an article about George Adamski (this post’s featured image) shared by Curt Collins recently got me thinking…
Adamski’s description of a flying saucer’s mother ship’s “tester”, its settling to earth “in a form of gelatin” that disintegrates when someone tries to retrieve it, brings to mind, first, “angel hair”, fibres like wool or nylon reported to fall from UFOs, most famously in Oloron, France, 17 October 1952, fibres that “when rolled up into a ball…rapidly became gelatinous, then sublimed in the air and disappeared” (as Aimé Michel recounts in his The Truth About Flying Saucers (New York: Pyramid, 1967, p. 154). Unlike the substance described by Adamski, these fils de la Vierge were temporarily retrievable before dissolving.
The cognoscenti might also be reminded of a UFO crash retrieval tale avant le lettre. According to The Nebraska Nugget, 6 June 1884 “John W. Ellis and three of his herdsmen and a number of other cowboys …were startled by a terrific whirring noise over their heads, and turning their eyes saw a blazing body falling like a shot to Earth.” When they investigated the crash site, what they found burned with a blinding light and with such heat one of their number suffered serious burns. Once the site cooled, the locals inspected the wreckage, which, following a rain storm and flash flood was reduced to small pools of jelly, which were said to have disappeared, in Jenny Randles’ paraphrase (UFO Retrievals, London: Blandford, 1995), “just like a spoonful of salt dissolving in water” (14). Randles cannily observes “this rather suggests that a spoonful of salt was exactly what the writer expected you to take with this entire story”. Nevertheless, the wreckage’s dissolving rimes with the evanescence of Adamski’s crashed “testers” and that of angel hair, and, given Jung’s alchemically-informed reflections on Flying Saucers, it is not insignificant that the wreckage is said to have disappeared like salt dissolving in water, “salt” being an important term in alchemical discourse…
What relates Adamski’s testers, angel hair, and the ultimate fate of what crashed in Nebraska to ghosts and hauntings is their similarity to ectoplasm (that variously slimy or fibrous substance whereby spirits are thought to manifest or other psi phenomena, e.g., telekinesis, are thought to be accomplished), once uniquely associated with Spiritualism and mediumship but now, in popular culture, associated with ghostly, spiritual phenomena in general. Angel hair and ectoplasm are both described as fibrous (regardless of whether this has to do with the various materials mediums used to hoax their manifestations…), and angel hair, the final residues of testers and airships, and ectoplasm are all gelatinous and evanescent, ectoplasm even, however ironically, extremely light-sensitive. And all are associated with Fortean or paranormal phenomena.
UFOs and ghosts share many other features. In no particular order: both are “transmedium”, UFOs and their occupants reported to pass through solid materials, whether walls or mountains, just like ghosts; both are evanescent, appearing and disappearing unpredictably (which makes them difficult to study under controlled conditions); both have been photographed, recorded, or otherwise instrumentally-registered, but in either case the evidence remains controversial. As Whitley Strieber has suggested and Joshua Cutchin’s forthcoming study maintains, both are relatable to death and the nature of the soul or “consciousness” as the discourse of the day has it. Doubtless, further features could be added (as Jacques Vallée has).
As the ellipses above suggest, my point here is not ufological nor parapsychological, for I make no attempt to separate what might count as “hard data” (more or less demonstrably reliable reports) from the more general discourse (or “stories”) about UFOs and ghosts and spirits. Rather, these analogues appear when these discourses are scrutinized as folklore or mythologies. But the implications for the work that goes on here at Skunkworks are not thereby made clearer. What implications such parallels have for ufology or a more general study of the paranormal I leave for interested parties interested in this way to work out. From the point of view of the ideology-critical speculations that compose some of the writing here, no implications present themselves offhand, and I’m skeptical even a close re-reading of Derrida’s Specters of Marx or brow-furrowing, headache-inducing reflections on the spectrology and hauntology developed therein might bear critical results.
Mythopoetically, these analogues, like those between alien abductions, shamanic initiations, near-death experiences, etc., suggest a complication, expansion or enrichment of a theme that already “has vista” (to borrow Whitman’s words), connotations and significations that, like any work of art, remain open-ended and unpredictable, much like the phenomena that are said to inspire these stories to begin with…
The matter has, at least, worked its way into the on-going composition of Orthoteny, the working title of my poetic treatment of that “mythology of things seen in the skies”. I append a draft of a section from On the Phantom Air Ship Mystery that deals with the Nebraska crash remarked above:
Alexander Hamilton’s Prototypical Cattle Mutilation Tale
Over at Mysterious Universe, Brent Swancer shares a collection of premodern tales of cattle mutilation, among them the prototypical if not archetypal story told by Alexander Hamilton during the Great Airship Mystery of 1896/7. Spencer’s reminding us of this report opens the door to my sharing my own poetic rendering of the encounter, one of the many smaller poems that compose a long poem On the Phantom Air Ship Mystery, part of that larger, “epic” project whose working title is Orthoteny.
Since WordPress does violence to the lineation of poetry, I post the poem, below, as a PDF.
Our sky is their sea
Last week, I wrote about Celtic Studies scholar John Cary’s hard core study of the varied tales of sky ships in medieval Ireland and its consequences for taking stories of this kind as ancient versions of modern-day UFO sighting reports. Cary points out the motif that equates sea and sky, seabottom and land is prevalent, not only in world, but Irish, literature as well, from the ancient poems about the hero Bran to one by Seamus Heaney. I added that the comparison of clouds to sea foam is equally ancient, and that that familiar childhood revery helps make the point clear to anyone who remembers sharing it.
I noted, but didn’t publicize, at the time, I had spontaneously hit on the same pattern of imagery in my first trade edition Grand Gnostic Central in the collection’s titular poem. Nor had I read Heaney’s poem until many years after composing the one that follows or even taken up my present mytho-ufological concerns at the time. The prose poem records a very real perception of Montreal, imaginably possibly familiar to anyone who has wandered its streets on any one of its clear, semi-tropical, humid summer nights.
from “Grand Gnostic Central”
The metropolis is unexceptional except for its foundation sunk profoundly deep into the bedrock of the ocean floor. A hemisphere of breathable air is maintained by a permeable membrane admitting needed gases and releasing excess into the seawater. Lights, that on the surface are aircraft, here trace supertankers. A traffic of smaller craft swirls into constellations nightly. The potentially catastrophic difference between air and sea pressure is corrected by three beams of light rotating atop the city’s highest edifice.
[Photo by Ed Hawco (Blork)]
Phantom Airships, after the fact
Recently, a commenter at UFO Conjectures felt the need to share with me a link concerning mystery aircraft, from 1865-1946. I was a little taken aback, as I’ve been well-apprised of this history since beginning my work on Orthoteny in the early 1990s.
The 1994 chapbook On the Phantom Air Ship Mystery cuts about the same swath, focusing on the Phantom Airships of 1896/7, then jumping ahead to the years just before the Great War, ending with the first bombing of London by Zeppelins and the story of Hill 60, before punctuating the section with the first modern sighting, Kenneth Arnold’s, in 1947.
I therefore share today the final three poems from the Phantom Airship sequence proper.
1913
The luminous object witnessed early last evening
The War Office has declared a spy-craft
Tonight a piercing light
lit up every corner
swept up to the hills
Bright lights flew over at thirty miles an hour
huffing like a faint train
the squeal of gears a clank of flaps
Rising last evening
all of magnitudes greater
than Venus
Before daybreak
unidentifiable lights
crossed the Channel
Seen overhead
sixty miles further
every hour after
All afternoon
they cruised west in threes
streets crowded to see
With sunset
one’s lamp played down
gone in a flash
From the east
three came
to hover an hour
Silhouetted
in their own
dazzling glare
Zeppelin
The tram stops
Blackout
A distant drone
The audience rises
To sing
“God Save the King”
One incendiary
Crashed through the ceiling
Went off in the hall
They were in bed and old
Knelt by the bed
And held each other
Another fell between the roofs
Onto the narrow lane just in front of them
But bounced off before it burst
The side of one house
And the Salvation Army Barracks windows
Blown out
A boarding house burned down
The Butcher’s shutters rattled
Neighbours in sheets on the street
Three of them lit up against the sky
Incendiaries fireballs falling
Searchlights and the city burning making a twilight
Hill Sixty
Dawn broke clear over Sulva Bay
Only six oval silvery clouds loafed
Undisturbed by the breeze
At sixty degrees
To us twenty-four
Six hundred feet away
Over the Hill a gunmetal cloud
Three hundred feet high and wide nine hundred long
Not nineteen chains from the trenches
The First
Fourth Norfolk
Ordered to reinforce the Hill
Were lost to sight as they marched
Into the cloud
For almost an hour
It rose then
Off with the others
North
No trace
Or record of them
Every found
More from Orthoteny (w.i.p.): Magonian Latitudes
Last week, I shared one section from a long poem, “Magonian Latitudes” (from my second trade edition, Ladonian Magnitudes), that rimes with another section from my treatment of the Phantom Airship Mystery of 1896/7.
Here, I share the entirety of the poetic sequence, an attempt to wind together the notion of the myth-as-myth and allusions to ancient (and medieval) aliens. It has six sections, the beginning of each indicated by the bolded, upper-case first letter of the section’s first line.
Poetically, this sketch for a part of Orthoteny (my work-in-progress dealing with the myth of things seen in the sky in its totality as explored here at Skunkworks) draws on a catholic sampling of the poetics of international, Twentieth-century poetry. It ain’t no doggerel!
Magonian Latitudes
…there is a certain region, which they call Magonia, whence ships sail in the clouds…
A change of dimension
not just locale
Like lungs for gills
or water to air
Horses, bison, mammoth, ibex,
numberless others unheard of
Rendered on cave-walls
palimpsest thick
Yet on the ceiling alone
in threes and fours
Flying Saucers hover
over their occupants
The Cabalist Zedechias
in Pepin’s reign
Sought to convince the world
Daimonas Sadaim
Neither angelic nor human in kind
inhabit the Elements
Required the Sylphs show themselves
in the Air for everyone
Which they did sumptuously
in the Air in human form
In battle array marching in good order
halting under arms or magnificent tents
Or the full sails of ships
riding clouds
When winds rose and blew
black clouds overhead
The peasants ran to the fields
to lift tall poles
To stay the ships
from carrying off
What rain or hail
culled from the crops
Called up by a tempestaire
for a tithe
Which practice persisted despite
the Capitularies of Charlemagne
The Sylphs saw alarm
from peasant to crown
Determined to dissipate their terror
by carrying off men
To show them their women
and republic
Then set them down
again on earth
Those who saw these as they descended
came from every direction
Carried away by the frenzy
hurried off to torture
Over all the lands countless tested
by fire or water
A marvel in Cloera County
interrupted Sunday Mass
It befell an anchor on a rope
caught in Saint Kinarus’ door-arch
Where the line ended in clouds
the congregation saw some kind of ship
One crewman dove and swam down
as if to free the flukes from the keystone
But they seized and would hold him
but that the Bishop
On grounds terrestrial air
may well drown one celestial
Forbade it
and freed
Quick as limbs can swim he rose
to hands on ropes and ladders
The anchor rang and cut
the line coiled down about them
The cave is a long way in from the mouth open to the sky
Generations there stare straight ahead on haunches
Higher up behind a fire burns
A wall before those hurrying past between
Both ways up and down the track there
Their burdens their shadows
One over her share
the water over the earth
The other in the firmament
the water over the earth
The air a mirror
Whose face is an ocean
waves electro-magnetic
There they stare dreaming
A quiet blue eye flickers
Rime & Confirmation: two excerpts from Orthoteny (w.i.p.)
The motivation behind all the work here in these Skunkworks is the composition of a version of that “modern myth of things seen in the sky”, whose working title is Orthoteny. That title is taken from the ufological writings of Aimé Michel, specifically his Flying Saucers and the Straight-line Mystery (1958).
Within the texture of the poetic work, such straight lines are the rimes or repetitions between parts of the myth or that connect the myth to the wider field of human culture. Within the phenomenon itself, such repetitions of shape, behaviour, and other features are taken as confirmation of the objective reality of UFOs and the entities associated with them. Such echoes are also often adduced as evidence the phenomenon has been a constant in human history. Ufologically, I am vigilantly critical of such ahistorical thinking, but in the context of the mythopoetic work they lend the theme vista.
As an example, I post two excerpts from the work-in-progress. The first is the fourth section of the poetic sequence, Magonian Latitudes, from my 1996 trade edition Ladonian Magnitudes, concerning the Thirteenth century story of a cloud ship whose anchor got caught in the door arch of Saint Kinarus’ Church, Cloera County, Ireland. (Irish poet and Nobel Prize laureate Seamus Heaney treats the same theme in the eighth section of his poem “Lightenings” from his 1991 collection Seeing Things). The second is from a section of my chapbook On the Phantom Air Ship Mystery (1995), “The Phantom Air Ship” that concerns an analogous story, this time from Merkel, Texas, in 1897.
[from Magonian Latitudes]
A marvel in Cloera County
interrupted Sunday Mass
It befell an anchor on a rope
caught in Saint Kinarus’ door-arch
Where the line ended in clouds
the congregation saw some kind of ship
One crewman dove and swam down
as if to free the flukes from the keystone
But they seized and would hold him
but that the Bishop
On grounds terrestrial air
may well drown one celestial
Forbade it
and freed
Quick as limbs can swim he rose
to hands on ropes and ladders
The anchor rang and cut
the line coiled down about them
[from On the Phantom Air Ship Mystery] 26 April [1897]
Sunday in Merkel church-goers returning from evening service saw a dragging along the ground
Followed it bounce onto the tracks and catch a rail
A light ship’s anchor roped high up to a lamp brighter than a locomotive’s
And lit gondola-windows of an air ship
After nine minutes a small man in a cobalt blue jumpsuit
Came down the line to look things over and cut it
Q’ Reveals the Real Secret Space Program
Back to the Skunkworks
Just last week, a friend recently publicized a chapbook of mine composed and published over twenty years ago, and the response, livelier than any to any of my work in recent memory, encourages me to return to the work that chapbook began.
I shouldn’t be surprised, in a way. This poem was the center-piece of the performances I gave during a tour of Germany in 1996, and then, too, the response was gratifying: one audience member excitedly came up to me to say he would buy everything I would publish, and a friend I made during that tour, the German novelist Georg Oswald, approved with pleasure the approach I took to the material. And a few years later this sequence was well-received by Terry Matheson, a professor of English who has applied narratology to alien abduction reports and who was kind enough to even teach the poem below in one of his classes.
So, for interested parties, I append one of the first poems from this project, the last poem of my first trade edition, Grand Gnostic Central and other poems. and return to back-engineering this “modern myth of things seen in the sky”.
Flying Saucers
Tuesday three in the afternoon 24 June 1947
Kenneth Arnold of Boise, rescue pilot, businessman, deputy sheriff and federal marshal, U.S. Forest Serviceman
At 9,000 feet crystal-clear conditions
Alone in his Callair between Chehalis and Yakima
An hour’s detour searching for a lost transport
Out of the blue a flash like just before a midair crash
Made him look left north of Mount Rainier
To see at ninety degrees
Nine seeming jet planes in a V pointed south
The echelon vaguely bobbing and weaving
Flashing reflections
Twenty-four miles off
Against Rainier’s snows, tailless—
Flying nearly forty miles
Between Mounts Rainier and Adams
Three times the speed of sound
The first crossed the ridge bridging the mountains
As the last came over its north crest five miles back
Nine crescents needing to be
Half a mile long to be seen
Flying that fast that far away
So smooth mirroring sunlight
Like speedboats on rough water
Wavering in formation
Like the tail of a Chinese kite
Wings tipping flashing blue white
Each like a saucer skipped over water