On Things Jim Moseley

The world of fortean wonder lost a true maverick of UFOology this past weekend.  James Moseley died on November 16th of this year from a long, drawn out fight from cancer.

I didn't really know much about the man until the past year; I purchased a couple of his Saucer Smear publications on line when I became aware of him from his friend Gene Steinberg's the Paracast.  From what I could tell from his various interviews on the Paracast and Radio Misteriso programs, Mr Moseley had a sense of perspective on UFOs that was both candid and intellectual.  Hearing his stories from years past and his criticisms of other UFO researchers from the 50's through the 21st century always caught my attention.  If Jim Moseley were to be interviewed on a podcast, I always made it a priority to listen his stories.

I've had his book in my Amazon queue for sometime now; I will likely finally purchase it  (and sadly after he has left this plane of existence).  His idealist criticisms on the infamous space brothers of the 50's, his skeptical viewpoint on the authenticity of the Roswell incident, and his lack of confidence regarding the high and mighty "experts" of this oddball field were always appreciated by me during his interviews.

Of course, as many have pointed out, he might always have been known as a hoaxer and practical jokester; John Keel went so far as to call him a "a boil on the ass of ufology".   Yet after hearing his devotion to the David Huggins case, his intent on believing that UFOs were not caused by interplanetary visitors, and his honest and unbiased opinions of the folklore of UFOology and those who create it, one can not be amazed.  Here was a man that was there at the beginning of this modern phenomenon; and here was a man who was intellectual, humorous and critical of the world around him.  I recall hearing him in the early sixties on various radio shows broadast on various internet programs and thinking "this guy is a very formidable and well spoken adversary to both the utopians and the critics - how bizarre is that?."  For every Keel or Vallee of any field of study, there needs to be a Jim Moseley.  And though I wish I had had the opportunity to converse or even meet with him, I felt that I knew him very well.  Godspeed Jim; your insight on the bizarre things around us all will never be forgotten by those in the know.

The Paradigm of Etheria

As noted on previous entries of this blog, I do have an incredible interest in the field of UFOlogy.  And why shouldn't I?  The idea of observed objects in the sky that appear, disappear, change colors, and change shapes over the course of human history should appeal to all of us.  Gods, angels, demons, airships and spacecraft have been with humanity since the beginning of written history; UFOs, I can only surmise, have been with us since the beginning of time.

Having read the many theories about the origin of UFOs, whether it be time travelers, elementals, cryptoterrestrials, evolved dinosaurs, and of course, extraterrestrial aliens (ancient and/or otherwise), I recently came across a "new idea" of Ether ships in John Keel's Operation Trojan Horse.  I immediately became hooked; the idea of an invisible world and invisible creatures around us that Meade Layne first theorized about prior to the famous Kenneth Arnold "Flying Saucers" event in 1947 carried an immediate and intuitive impression to me.  Today, I finally received a first edition of Layne's Ether Ship Mystery pamphlet (courtesy of an Ebay auction) and decided to become a well read couch theorist of the Ether Ship paradigm.

Above is a picture of an alleged Ether Ship photographed near an infamous Reich Orgone Cloud Buster by the daughter of Etherian theorist Trevor Constable.  Do I plan on becoming an orgone collector in the coming weeks?  Probably not; I also do not plan on receiving any job promotions or community accolades for the coming research.  Yet I do feel, for whatever reason, Layne's work, as well as the work of other contributors to the idea "Etheria", provides a cornerstone to one of the greatest mysteries of the human age; our true reality.  Stay tuned for more.

On Space

The majority of space that surrounds my life is fitted to form.  Unless I find myself in the wilderness, the city of spaces that I live in are engineered for utilization.  Streets, sidewalks, parks, homes, my office, etc... each physical space has been turned into something that benefits a human need.  Most space is a bent product of human demand.

I work in an older building in the city I live in and often find myself exploring different parts of the campus occasionally.  I am definitely not paid to be an urban explorer, but at times, needing a break from starting at my PC screen, I find myself drawn to wandering aimlessly through lesser traversed spots in the building.   On one such daily adventure, I discovered a space that exists in the "nether"; a space that provides no form or function to the company I work for.

My only estimate of the particular space's origin is that it resulted from the building's expansion at some point of the business's history.  Rather than tear down the original building's metal wall, the engineering firm built an entirely new complex and connected the two buildings with a couple of hall ways and metal roofing.  Cheap and efficient, no doubt the engineering rage of late 70's Midwest architecture.  Today, it sits as a fluorescent lit hallway that leads absolutely nowhere.  No form or function required; just metal, concrete, pipes and lighting.

To think about what has been on this exact spot over the course of time is quite overwhelming.  Initially a spot of earth and rock, later perhaps a prehistoric culture's site, perhaps even later in time the site of a home or a farm, today the space exists electric, cold and, idle.  It no longer needs rain, sunlight, or human attention; without my discovery, it likely would continue to be ignored.  I will not be able to revert this particular space to its original physical appearance, but I will not forget or be ignorant of this particular space for the rest of my life.