Another of America's Brilliant Nuclear Absolutions
Keeping Our Taxes Low Since 1945!
SPI WASHINGTON DC -- Filling the holes in a mystery is best accomplished by following the basic rules of fact-finding: you step back and connect the dots; you look for similar solutions to yesterday's strata defining the weird, and you start filling those holes with those solutions that have already worked, every once in awhile stepping back to see if the fit is good; you check the in-seam for those little bends that signal failure or a badly maintained clothes dummy; you reason out guesses with confirmations, and you look for hints of bad science and illogical impertinence; you dot your eyes and you cross your tees and then you start over from a slightly newer, more accurate position. Connect the dots. Check the fit. You don't ignore what doesn't look right, and you always, always, ALWAYS double-check your facts. When you find that one answer that seems to work when nothing else does, you put it aside and you start over again.
With a little luck, you'll get your answers filed before dinner. Then you can watch a movie, have a couple of sodas or a beer, and go to bed and sleep like the dead on downers for a few hours. When you wake up, you start the day by plugging in yesterday's answers and looking for the big something you probably missed.
Then you start over. Again. And again. And again. Connect the dots. Follow the money. Sniff out the dreams of complexity otherwise unrewarded.
If you're lucky, you might close out the week with a sudden spark of inspiration and you'll suddenly validate your investigative instincts when that spark lights up like a lone fire in the desert, splashing onto the little theater in your consciousness like a movie under your eyelids. If you're lucky, or better at the process than most, you might discover the beckoning reason why Robert Hastings' new documentary about the secret link between UFOs and nuclear weapons, weapons testing, and the proliferation of all things nuclear was completed in record time thanks to a very generous grant awarded by the U.S. government's little hush-hush watchdog at the Nuclear Regulatory Commission.
Why would the NRC -- said Nuclear Regulatory Commission -- want to see Hastings' magnum opus, UFOs and Nukes: The Secret Link Revealed, out as quickly as possible? Probably for the same reason they've been pushing other UFO stories ever since 3-Mile Island took a small bite out of America's history and channeled it into modern paranoia: it looks prettier when you turn out all the lights than does the threat of another glow-in-the-dark Chernobyl.
Lights up. Everybody smiles. Somebody give the guy in the brown sweater an Academy Award, 'cause he just delivered that failsafe line with true panache wrapped up in the quickened, shattering edges of real fear at the back of his throat. Fade to black. Cut scene. Welcome to the end of the road, pal.
Robert Hastings' brilliant new documentary
lauded by Nuclear Regulatory Commission
"Hastings was just earnin' a paycheck, pal. Hell, he's still just earnin' a paycheck. This kind of dew-drop play in the backfield has been an institution for decades, so what's the big freakin' deal? This is America, pal, and in America everything is for sale: integrity -- BAM!, morality -- BOOM! -- even your sparkly all-lit-up flying saucers. And the t'ing about flying saucers that makes dealin' them out in such a lucrative market well worth the time and the effort is that one little characteristic they possess that nothin' else can ever touch: when you're dealin' out flying saucers to the rubes, baby, they don't look at nothin' else. If you don't want folks to see what you've worked and sweated so hard to bury deep in the sludge, toss up a flying saucer or two. You can hit 'em wid a truck, and they’ll still swear there was nothin' in the world but saucers. And they still got them big eyes, baby -- always will."
The Nuclear Regulatory Commission prides itself on protecting both the populace and the environment; so why in God's name would they care about UFOs? Any standard FOIA request regarding UFOs and the NRC doesn't reveal anything interesting at all -- which is kind of odd given Hastings' certainty of a link between UFOs and nuclear sites. Sadly, the only UFO a search of the NRC's FOIA documentation can reveal is when that lovely word UFO refers to Uranium Hexafluoride -- UFo. You'll find references to things like "UFO on the road" that have nothing to do with flying saucers at all. The thing is, any conscientious in-depth examination of the files in question -- something UFOlogists never seem to find the time to do -- reveals that a fairly large number of those flying saucers are little more than the radioactive waste byproducts the documents are really talking about -- waste products like UFo, or Uranium Hexafluoride.
NRC employees like Stephen Hoffman get a huge kick out of it. "What makes you t'ink dey learn? Dey never learn, baby. Dey just stop talkin' about it one day like a global changin' of the subject!" Stephen tends to laugh a lot these days, since laughter is the only reasonable response when you're forced to consider the whys and the wherefores regarding Nuclear America's apparent support for claims of extraterrestrial interest in our nation's nuclear capacity. The real drama, unfortunately, lies not amongst the interest allegedly possessed by flying saucers and alien saucer pilots, but in the lack of any real concern expressed by our own Department of Defense or the American Congress. We've had a number of stringers literally combing the halls and parking lots of Washington, DC trying to discover any suggestion of concern within our government, and it just isn't there. They don't seem to care even a little bit.
Our repeated badgering of Stephen Hoffman, the only witness we've been able to track down who is willing to discuss these matters in some detail, has resulted in little more than teasing commentaries and suggestions as to where we should center our research. "Hey, boy, you talk to the staff at the Library of Congress and you ast them about our budget, da U.S. budget. You check every year goin' on back to 1950 and compare dem budgets with the budgets we got now. You go check the stats and I think you gonna find somethin' maybe interestin', maybe even more den interestin'. Dats all I got to say. You can check jus' the nuke budgets, and you probably find what you lookin' for. But ifn you want a big, big surprise, den you check alla the DoD. You check dem Area 51s -- d'ere about six, seven -- you find dem. Yeah, you find dem and you find you answers. 'Cause dem flying saucers, dey been good for America, and mos' of it's pretty easy to find, too. Dey ain't classified. Dey just ain't been looked at real careful like. And you tell that pretty red-head at the catalogues dat I said hello, and I'm gonna look her up some time. She a cutie, she is. Now you jus' turn aroun' and walk the Hell outta my office -- I got work to do, and nukes to polish up an whistle at. You jus' remember what ol' Robert Redford said: you jus' folla the money, baby -- take 'er on home. Heh."
For three weeks, The Saucerologist hired stringers in Washington, DC to plant themselves at the Library of Congress in order to get copies of every Department of Defense budget proposal available since V-J Day, 1945. We went through thousands and thousands of pages trying to hunt down those elusive differences between modern Defense contracting and those that came up post-WW2. We got nowhere, primarily because budgets can only be informative in the context of economic value. It took us another two weeks to translate every listing to equivalent dollar values, a tedious but necessary chore that would allow us to make some valid comparisons. A million dollars in 1945 just doesn't have the same value as a million dollars in 2016. Or 2008. Or 1989. You see the problem. We couldn't hope to follow the clues that Hoffman had dangled in front of us until those clues were all translated into the same language -- a language that tends to change with every week; and we wanted to translate 70-years worth. It was painful. Well, it was painful, anyway, until one of the librarians asked us what we were researching. Once she knew what we needed, she was suddenly very helpful. Apparently, there is a publication put out by the Department of Defense that contains all of the information we wanted, and it was already translated, collated, and pleasingly packaged in faux-leather bindings. Here's something to remember: if you're at the library (or a bookstore or a brothel) and you're looking for something specific, always ask someone who works there for help. You'll save yourself a lot of time and a whole lot of frustration if you do.
By the time we got to "that pretty red-head at the catalogues", we at least knew where we should be looking. We still weren't getting anywhere, and it was such a frustrating mess that a couple of the stringers started arguing about all of it, all the needles in haystacks, all the trails of bread crumbs, and all the foreign language periodicals we couldn't figure out. And that was about the time "that pretty red-head at the catalogues" thought to ask us if we needed some help.
"Are you the guys that Stevie Hoffman sent down here? 'Cause he said I should ask you if you needed some help, but he wanted me to wait until you were screaming at each other and just about to be tossed out for making too much noise. Also, you should probably know that you guys are about to be tossed out for making too much noise."
Yeah, we needed the help, and after five-and-a-half weeks we were finally pointed to the exact documents that Stephen Hoffman was talking about. Once we figured it out -- which took another week -- we wondered why nobody had ever tied these little facts together in the way Hoffman had done, 'cause it was a real short story, but it was freaking brilliant. Thank you red-headed catalogue lady; we decided not to murder Stephen Hoffman after all, but the vote to punish him was nmonetheless enthusiastic and unanimous. But this story was too brilliant to for us to dirty up with plans of seeking revenge for Hoffman's crazy little six-and-a-half weeks long practical joke. We decided to let him get away with it this time.
What Stephen Hoffman discovered at the Library of Congress was one of the Department of Defense's most brilliant schemes, one they carried out for some sixty-years without a single person figuring it all out even though it was completely unclassified. None of the documents we were shown were published by the Department of Defense, and most were simply Congressional budget discussions. It was apparent that a lot of people had to have been aware of at least some aspects of this case without knowing enough to put the whole story together. Some folks saw changes in the budget allowances discussed in the proper context, but simply didn't care. After all, nobody got hurt, and very little actual work had to be done. These people within the Defense budget cadre had created a high security environment by simply making high security the answer to personal dreams for people who wanted to meet aliens.
Between 1945 and 1955, one of the most expensive necessities incurred by the Department of Defense was the basic aerial security around our military bases, particularly those known to be associated with nuclear arms, testing, design, and readiness. It was a huge cost that was starting to cut so deeply into the operating end of some of these bases and facilities that it was beginning to limit our military nuclear research capabilities -- and for a nation that by 1959 was being surpassed on almost every technical venture at that time by the Soviet Union, this was a cost that we simply could not afford to maintain. The question remained, though. How do you cut the costs of our basic, no-frills security presence at these commands?
The operating decision that the Department of Defense finally decided to implement was truly inspired by the stars in the sky. After all, what creature alarms the world faster and with more urgency than the wise old UFO-hunter with his binoculars and his fountain pens? What other temperate, well-heeled professional establishes early on, even before any security breach occurs, the lucid insistence that the lights in the sky slowly orbiting the highly secret and industrious and demanding representatives of nuclear acclimation in America need to be examined at least twice by great and heartfelt men? This, interestingly enough, is exactly what the great and heartfelt men talking busily within the Pentagon in Washington, DC have been insisting upon since their own wild and frenetic deeds were first absorbed and then dispersed by the nuclear kingdoms of Hiroshima and Nagasaki forever into the present future of mankind.
Security at Nuke commands is all
about the price-tag, baby
Nearly every major nuclear-based command in the nation is absolutely busy with UFO hunters, a number expected to increase significantly with the ultimate success of Robert Hastings' documentary establishing the link between UFOs and nuclear acclimation in America. They're quiet, because they don't want to be arrested, and they're thorough, because they all want to meet E.T., Starman, and the alien with the jellyfish eyes. Where Shore Police, Marines, or USAF Security Personnel stay alert waiting for an intruder to enter their secure zone, the UFO hunters are staying alert trying to spot the intruders before they even come near a secure zone. And as a result of their somewhat tumultuous reputation, nobody believes anything they say about issues adrift, allowing for a bi-directional secure environment, an aspect of the careful planning the Department of Defense has used to mold the perfect set of tools for the least amount of investment. Stephen Hoffman, as well as three additional, albeit less public, witnesses with the Nuclear Regulatory Commission, and well over a dozen witnesses at the Pentagon who tend to admire the years of imagination behind the whole operation agree that the actions taken have saved taxpayers a huge sum over the decades. Some critics, however, complain that the government has purposely attempted to diminish by slander the previously admirable and highly professional reputations of UFOlogists worldwide in order to do so.
When it comes to UFOs, the Department of
Defense has been working the case for 60-years
So how much money did the nation save last year? How much in the past five years? How much since Hiroshima and Nagasaki? According to "that pretty red-head" at the Library of Congress, they've easily saved billions in exchange for a comparative cost that's barely significant. What precisely did the U.S. government have to do in order to arrange for the unknowing security presence that the UFO proponent communities have been providing for nearly 60-years? The cost must have been minimal, because all they were doing was creating belief and the need to respond to that belief. Convince one man, and for the rest of his life his mission is to prove that his belief has value. And in the long run, that's just public relations based on adequate CGI and the need to inspire. Beautiful, yeah?
Wonder of wonders, belief isn't even necessary to inspire belief; it has never been necessary. It's the inspiration that matters, because that's ultimately where belief comes from. Even decades ago, the Department of Defense had a most definite end-game in mind, because the purpose had already been decided: save money, don't spend money. In any case, the cost has little to do with the end story, but it does vary in relation to the ultimate target of that inspiration. For some men, like Stephen Spielberg or David Bowie, it only takes a suggestion by the right person at the right time at a cost of precisely zero. Just the hint of a story and those with talent and grace and skills worthy of the market fly with it, right into the skies trailing just behind God and those lovely saucers. For less imaginative men with fewer talents such as Robert Hastings or every draper's son who ever wrote another submersible assessment of Roswell, 1947, it takes what's hard and what's cold: shavings from the Department of Defense's black ops cash cow.
It doesn't take very much either. Unclassified OPREPs that The Saucerologist tracked down, confirm that purchasing the cooperation of those on the take is hardly the costly investment their lack of character entitles them to, and replacements are easy enough to find should the price start to become unreasonable, as defined by Pentagon electro-magnates. The truth is, they can be purchased and are purchased for almost nothing in comparison to what's gained. These guys buy people all the time! And the cost? What cost? These men who allow themselves to be bought are the very cranks who represent and inspire silent protesters. A very few may well use complex novels to do so, but the huge majority use simple, two-paragraph tales to protest the proliferation of the nuclear seed throughout Nuclear America. Many men will all too often do that for free! Some of them even believe they're doing something admirable, particularly those like Robert Hastings, Kevin Randle, or Robert Salas, all of whom are well aware that the story is just one more story, that the facts are invented, then packaged nicely, and then sold for a tidy profit. Like electric kool-aid acid heroes, they willingly exchange their dishonesty for the feverish self-congratulations that their ever-consciously quickening vale of anarchy and protest against the alleged madness of nuclear proliferation grants them the freedom to adopt.
And as Americans, we just love that shit.
It's what happens when those least inclined to effectively change the world through protest unknowingly provide the necessarily secure environment that guarantees not only the existence, but the continued growth and development of the very thing they've already convinced themselves they are helping to rid the world of. What could possibly be more American than a self-consuming conspiracy of flying saucers amidst the curse of haunted Hiroshima? Americans take a good look at the real story, and they just smile and smile, beggars in an audience of underfunded irony.
And the best part of this, we Americans tell ourselves, is the confidence we slip into at the end of the day when we realize the longevity of this tax-free haven of firm-land security. After all, it's not like they're going to just stop. In the lovely, stilted words of Stephen Hoffman, "That's the mind set, y'see. Dey'll just double down way 'fore they step off, 'cause dey believers. Hell, son, they gonna spend the nex' 60-years workin' overtime to prove dey right before dey walk out on it. Dat's why it's so brilliant!" That's the pretty part. Show them exactly what's going on, prove it without any doubt, call down God from the mountaintop with the big voice of nuclear regulation, if you want to, and it won't change anything. Not even squat.
Dey'll just double down way 'fore they step off . . .
The true believer's need to convince non-believers that the power of his conviction will be heard and adopted by even the children of skeptics, "visiting the iniquity of the fathers on their children, on the third and the fourth generations of those" who heed not the lesson of the saucers, is the driving force behind American UFOlogy. The need is to prove that they are not complete fruitcakes, and it is this universal expectation that dictates their every act. More importantly, this is precisely the point-of-view planned, engineered, and managed by the Department of Defense since 1945, and its purpose is to inspire stubborn conviction that is inevitably targeted by the ridicule and laughter of the national audience. The immediate release of well-fostered story-time dreams like UFOs and Nukes: The Secret Link Revealed falls very nicely into place with the same perfunctory Kerr-PLOP! as every other UFO tool in the shed.
It is the Department of Defense, more than any other single body, that makes it so easy for the world to dismiss the UFO argument as trivial. But since it's also, according to a small handful of librarians, nuclear workers and nuclear regulators, the Department of Defense that created the UFO legend in the first place in order to obtain low-cost but dedicated policing of the skies above America's most sensitive acquisitions in the modern world, most of those in the know simply say, "it's all good."
And everybody else smiles . . .
This is a Saucer Press International Publication