Men Are From Mars… Politicians Are From the Landfill

If you were to tell me breathlessly that you had acquired knowledge of a dark conspiracy based upon the latest segment of Ancient Aliens, I would probably nod and attempt to patch another topic seamlessly into the conversation.  I would almost certainly not say, “Tell me more.”  Let’s face it: the prime objective of a long-running television serial is to run yet longer.  Some very suspicious activity once occurred over Roswell, at Rendlesham Forest, over the Phoenix area… such incidents might suffice to fuel one good season of an objective documentary.  By the time we’re talking about lizard-men appearing from cracks in the earth, however, or the Ananachi instructing Gilgamesh to subdue Humbaba… well, by the way, did you happen to know that honey is very high in antioxidant?  I just found that out….

If I were Mike Bara, I would feel somewhat conflicted about being featured regularly on this quasi-scientific, conspiracy-rich series, especially when my spots are wedges between images of guys with cryptic talismans dangling from their wide-open shirts and strange gardens growing on their crowns where hair should be.  Yet the gig certainly sells books and promotes celebrity.  The cover of Bara’s Ancient Aliens on Mars (2013) does little to reassure us that its contents will abstain from sensationalism; and the title, for that matter, seems hapless to me, in that it directly taps into the TV serial while ineptly designating its subject.  For a Martian would not be an alien unless he left Mars—and Mars remains the exclusive focus of Bara’s little work, not Martian immigration to ancient Peru or Anatolia.  The book, let’s admit, has “popular” objectives.  It’s written to make money.

At the same time, when the academic community shuts you out, you don’t necessarily have a lot of options left—and the popular one effectively broadcasts the word that the academic game is rigged while also earning you (hopefully) the wherewithal to carry the struggle forward.  Did Bara, then, simply make up the incident involving JPL’s bizarre and high-handed reddening of the Viking I photos so as to make the planet appear utterly desolate and… well, alien?  I know that he didn’t invent NASA’s curious dismissal of Gil Levin’s positive test for life in Martian soil during that mission—a test that ran like clockwork and then, by official decree, was essentially ruled a waste of millions of dollars.

Is Bara writing fiction when he chronicles our government’s paying for Michael Malin’s camera to be included on the Observer mission—and then declaring that Malin, as a private entity, had exclusive rights to any resultant photos for six months?  Does Bara merely imagine NASA’s resistance to photographing certain Martian regions previously suspected of retaining relics of clearly artificial (i.e., not natural) structures throughout this and the Pathfinder mission?  It isn’t just Bara, is it, who recalls that the open-bidding protocol was cavalierly subverted in awarding Malin’s now-outdated instrument the contract for riding aboard the Mars Global Surveyor?

I do but graze the surface—and Bara’s “popular” account of these outrageously manipulated engineering decisions and suppressed or doctored “revelations” is itself condensed to a particle of the complete explanation.  A skeptic might respond that I have so far ignored the book’s most “embarrassing” part: the discussion of the infamous “face” said to occupy several square kilometers on the Martian surface.  He-he, ha-ha!  Who could possibly… why, the very idea!  A rock formation acquires a certain look at a certain time of day as shadows fall in a certain pattern—and voila!  We have a human-like face!  So very droll!

Okay.  But why would NASA not take better shots of the region to resolve the issue?  The claim was made that such a flyover indeed occurred and that such a shot was indeed taken… except that, years later, NASA was forced to admit that it had no such debunking photo.  And the “face” region was one of many where images were demonstrably tempered with during subsequent missions.  It must also be emphasized by those whose math skills far exceed my own that the “face compound” (for the immediate region is prolific with artificial-seeming structures) repeatedly encodes certain geometric relationships independent of cultural conditioning, just as a radio transmission from a dark quadrant of the sky that reprised a theme from Peter and the Wolf could not merely be a neutron star’s chatter.

I know that these notions are a tough sell.  Years ago, I published an uncensored Martian photo in my online journal that showed what was indisputably a tooled, artificial object, full of intricate and rigidly aligned holes, rings, and corners.  Several of my academic readers sniffed that my parody was indeed rare, but needed more seasoning: I almost sounded as though I were serious!

Cases like these have two forces working strongly against them.  One is (as just intimated) the ever-active anxiety in “educated” people that perhaps they are being duped.  “No, no… you can’t fool me!  Not today—not with that one!”  The very lapse of the word “conspiracy” into ignominy, as if no intricate, chess-like suckering ever happened in the real world, is evidence of how easily we can be hoodwinked in our fear of being hoodwinked.

Hence the second force: the “science” of disinformation, as pioneered by the Soviets and now mastered in our own society.  Nothing more discredits a reality that you wish to keep secret than going fully public with it in a ridiculously hyperbolic manner.  “Sure, I had an affair with that woman!  Why, I must have had fifty affairs in that one week!  Half the electorate of Nevada consists of my sons and daughters!”  Ha-ha, he-he.

I don’t sincerely belief that Ancient Aliens, the TV serial, has been intended by its producers to grind out such background interference; yet its constant quest for yet one more season has that effect, and the effect is no doubt viewed with satisfaction by certain artists of disguise on the public payroll.

Because of Bara’s book and a mass of other evidence (a little of it gathered in private conversation with reliable sources), I preserve no doubt of any kind that our government has lied to us for years about issues related to the so-called Space Program.  My question, as a citizen rather than a professional technician or academic researcher, is why.  One lies for a reason: one lies for personal advantage.  Who is deriving an advantage from concealing details—no, more than details: essential information—about the course and nature of intelligent life in our solar system?  What sort of advantage might this be?  When would the trump card be played?  Will the rest of us be left sprawling in the dust on that day as mere dupes… or are we an intended sacrifice of proportions exceeding the Stalinesque?

I hate living in a society whose leadership I no longer trust a penny’s worth about anything.  It’s exhausting; it’s infuriating.  I want to deliver this message to my “representatives” and to their “academic expert” lackeys everywhere, without geometric coding: “You sorry bastards.  If wind turbines are safe, then you go live under one.  If the Rare Earth Elements on solar panels are clean, then put your family downstream from one.  If the rich need to pay 90 percent of their income to create a world where energy carries ten times the price tag, then you start by liquidating 90 percent of your gross assets and divesting yourself of all energy-related investments.  If universal public health care is such a great idea, than sign yourself and your family up for it.  If the war against Islamic extremism must be fought in perpetuity halfway around the world, then be sure that your son enlists to fight it.”

Could it be, on the contrary, that our “leaders” enjoy an entirely off-the-grid, off-the-books, off-budget parallel reality of bunkered paradise, engineered with unimaginable sophistication, that awaits them whenever the red button is pushed?  “Could it be….?”  Yeah, now I sound like the narrator of Ancient Aliens; but when you know you’re being lied to, persistently and with design, the mind runs wild.

Could it be that we will learn more truth about our solar system from Putin or the Chinese than from NASA?

Author: nilnoviblog

I hold a Ph.D. in Comparative Literature (Latin/Greek) but have not navigated academe very successfully for the past thirty years. This is owed partly to my non-PC place of origin (Texas), but probably more to my conviction--along with the ancients--that human nature is immutable, and my further conviction--along with Stoics and true Christians-- that we have a natural calling to surmount our nature. Or maybe I just don't play office politics well. I'm much looking forward to impending retirement, when I can tend to my orchards and perhaps market the secrets of Dead Ball hitting that I've excavated. No, there's nothing new (nil novi) under the sun... but what a huge amount has been forgotten, in baseball and elsewhere!

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