"News that's not known, or not known enough."
Helen & Harry Highwater's cranky weblog of news and opinion.
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"News that's not known, or not known enough." Helen & Harry Highwater's cranky weblog of news and opinion. |
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Okay, so way back in 1948 there was this crash of an unidentified alien type object just outside Roswell, New Mexico. The government denies such an event occurred, but we all know it happened. Why, just Google up the account and you’ll discover the truth and after discovering the truth, that truth shall set you free. Yeah the truth’s out there, all right. Anyway, the whiz-bang U.S. Air Force took ‘command’ of the crash site, the wreckage, and the survivors. Yup, there were survivors and the survivors were alien life forms. These poor alien bastards were pretty banged up. I mean, any time one crashes an unidentified flying object on or about the Planet Earth, there usually is some seriously substantial wreckage. It’s that immutable ‘law of gravity’ and theoretical physics attributable to slam fast entry into Planet Earth atmosphere and that sudden stop at the bottom of the aforementioned atmospheric entry coupled with hitting terra firma without applying braking principles. Crash-a-vous! Now, the nefarious part of this story begins about here. The U.S. Air Force snatched up those battered alien life forms, and placed them in detention. It may well have been Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, but the Air Force has classified that ‘detention’ and to this day is sitting on the info and won’t admit to squat. Yeah, kind of like early twenty first century Guantanamo Bay, but without all the Muslims. Then, like today, the Air Force got some evil medical types to patch the aliens back together and heal their badly wounded alien bodies. The aliens were in “detention”, and our hyper-histrionic government wouldn’t allow the aliens to have access to lawyers or legal guidance and so, then, just like today, the alien bastards were ass out. It must be stated categorically, it’s a good thing for those alien life forms that John Yoo wasn’t busy with constitutional law and torture because, God knows what might have happened. Yikes! Let the experimentation begin: The U.S. Air Force had these illegally ‘detained’ alien life forms in their proud possession and being the kind of high tech cretins that comprise the upper echelons
The Air Force doctor types, in conjunction with the CIA and the U.S. Army, had created an entirely new species of alien life form. and they patented their results for fun, sport, and profit. What, or whom rather, did you think was flying those unmanned drone thingies the Air Force is allegedly on about? Those drone thingies aren’t unmanned. No, they are not. It’s the medically/genetically modified alien life forms flying those drones, and the Air Force has kept that secret for low these many long years. Oh, it’s true. The Air Force keeps a secret genetic farming facility just outside of the town of Crackers, Mississippi for their alien life form farming project. Yup, it’s true. The Air Force has been genetically engineering alien life forms for all manners of dark and secretive type Air Force programs. Now, the Air Force has also been growing and exploiting genetically engineered and modified alien life forms for sport. Yup, hunting sport. This is where Veep Dick Cheney comes back into the narrative. Cheney was “hunting” those genetically re-engineered alien life forms at taxpayer expense and on another ‘secretive’ government game reserve. The ‘reserve’ is reserved for the sole purpose of hunting, by assholes like Dick Cheney. That is what you can see reflected in Cheney’s way cool shades: one shot to bejesus genetically modified and re-engineered alien life form that was cultivated and bio-manipulated for the sole hunting enjoyment of Dick Cheney. Well, Antonin Scalia likes hunting the little rascals too, but Scalia doesn’t pose for pictures of him doing an ‘alien’ snipe hunt. So you’re probably asking yourself, how in hell could I come into possession of classified government horrors the likes of this? Well, I’ll tells ya, I will. I had a chance encounter with my old pal Syd Vicious. Yup, the original Syd Vicious. Not the punk-ass junkie poser that wound up dead on account of some goofy heroin overdose. Nope, not the same guy. I’ve been friends with Syd Vicious for just about my whole life. We hadn’t seen one another for a number of years. Syd was on the downs on account of his breaking up with his fifth wife. Yeah, that kind of shit happens. So Syd had a case of the deluxe funk and he stopped by for some solace and a trip to Wells, Nevada so he could get himself laid. Yeah, that whorehouse sort of getting laid. Wells, Nevada, besides having much earthquake damage, still has two functioning whorehouses. Syd hadn’t got laid for a while on account of that splitting the sheets with the fifth soon to be ex-wife, and Syd was feeling a mite miserable about himself and life in general. So me and Syd decided that a road trip to Wells was just about in perfect order. The road to Wells is a long one and we’d been sucking up coffee and needed a quick pause that refreshes. So we’d got to the top of Pequops Summit and took the exit. Yup, there really is a Pequops Summit. We call it ‘pee-cups’ but that’s a ‘locals only’ sort of motif. Anyway, we got off the interstate and up the road a bit and I’ll be damned if we didn’t happen on a genuine and for reals UFO. The damn thing was sitting there with the door open and idling idly. The thing was glowing this sort of warm inviting sort of bluish and humming nicely. The door was open and there was this ramp thing, and so me and Syd decided to have us a look see. Well as things have always been with me and Syd, we’s just bad together and that’s the plain truth. We decided to jack the damn thing. Yup, and we did too. Me and Syd stole the UFO and took it for a ‘joy ride’ and that’s when the real trouble started. Inside the UFO, things seemed pretty simple to use. Sort of user friendly in the flying type drill, and I sat down at what seemed the controls and Syd sat in this other chair and there was this joystick thingy and I just did the old Nintendo use the controller plan and off we went. I mean, we were literally off and climbing. Fast! Really fast. Suck-your-ass-back-in-the-seat kind of fast. Me and Syd were doing this shooting into orbit thing and as I’m cranking back on the controller, this panel lights up and we can see where we’re going. Alien technology is user friendly if it’s anything. Me and Syd did a ring around the moon. Well, it was more like a high speed barrel roll in performance by two rank amateur UFO thieves. The moon is pretty damn cool, but I wouldn’t want to live there. Barren and there isn’t a 7-11 anywhere! Well finally, Syd reminds me about our trip to Wells and as Syd still wanted to get himself laid, we figured it was time to sneak back our jacked UFO and scamper away unbeknownst to anyone. Yeah, that seemed like a good plan at the time. The thing about ‘jacking’ an abandoned UFO is that you might not get it back without being noticed. You know, noticed by the U.S. military? It is extraordinarily difficult to sneak back into atmospheric Planet Earth without being detected. Well, it might have had something to do with Syd’s screaming and my amateurish lack of flying skill and well, landing the freaking thing without drawing too much attention to ‘jacking’ a UFO and getting away with what at the time, seemed a really brilliant idea and grand adventure to be had by two old friends that should NOT spend much time together on account of anytime spent together only and always brings on worlds of trouble. Yeah, I crashed the UFO and it wasn’t pretty. We walked away unscathed, but we pretty much trashed the UFO. Now, how in hell those alien types can sneak into atmospheric Planet Earth without notice is beyond me. But, they use their UFO thingies all the freaking time and me and Syd are only and have ever only been about ‘jacking’ a UFO that was left abandoned by those alien types that had taken the fat chance of eating Wells, Nevada chili dogs and got the old chili-cheese two step and had to run out in the boonies with the interplanetary squirts and left a running and abandoned UFO for me and Syd to boost and then crash after joy riding around the moon simply for a lark.
So General asshole guy is in hushed consultation with a half dozen military and CIA/FBI looking bozos and the alien guys are standing around really pissed off at the U.S. military and me and Syd. Probably on account of me and Syd crashing their ride. Well, Syd didn’t have squat to do with the crashing drill, that was all me. Syd still wants to get to Wells for that getting laid drill but, the chances of Syd’s getting to Wells is starting to look bleak. Well needless to say, we’re at that “moot point” part of the entire scenario. General asshole guy decides that me and Syd are small potatoes. The military will get to salvage the crashed UFO and they decide to “detain” the alien guys simply for leaving their UFO abandoned for me and Syd to ‘jack’. So ultimately, it was all the aliens' fault and me and Syd are simply another case of “plausible deniability” and case closed. So yeah, I got General asshole guy to admit to Roswell, the alien farming project in Cracker, Mississippi, and what actually it was that Dick Cheney was hunting for that White House photo op, and General asshole guy is happy on account of I can’t prove any of this. Yup, General asshole guy is happy as a clam. The last thing that General asshole guy said to me was, “You can’t prove a thing and that’s the way we like it!” However, I know the truth, and me and Syd had us one fine joy ride out to the moon, and the moon is highly overrated. But the ride was cool as hell and there isn’t diddly I can do for those ‘detained’ alien types. I feel bad for them, but our fine government has work for them to do and things will be just fine until alien guys’ home-boys come looking for them. Then, somebody will have some explaining to do, and it won’t have to be me or Syd. We’re off the hook. But we know. Oh yes, we know all about it. © by the author.
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