sorted the converted from the doubters and once again we're preaching to the choir.
 What happened to all those other folks?
 Anyway, maybe they didn't have the scratch.
 Well, that's a legitimate reason, certainly.
 Anyway, it's very nice to be here.
 I come in peace for all mankind and womankind as well, if I may dare to represent them.
 The way I thought I would structure the thing is basically read a bit from my new book,
 which I hope then establishes my credentials as an authentic UFO witness and possible abductee.
 And then I'll talk a little bit about what I think about it, because I don't think about
 it what most people think about it.
 My dream from the time I was eight or nine was to encounter a UFO, because I always had
 the impression that if you would encounter one, you could understand it.
 That it was maddening to realize that it seemed to have a great affinity for people who live
 in trailer courts, but very little affinity for anybody I knew.
 And so you constantly had to filter these eyewitness reports by people that you wouldn't
 send to the corner store to buy milk.
 So this was a problem, and I'm sure it haunts many of you who have never encountered a UFO.
 So I'll read the description of the encounter, then talk a little bit about my conclusions
 and ideas about it, and then we can just have a discussion.
 I guess I should say a little bit about my method.
 I really am a fence sitter.
 I loathe science and am always keen to attack it in most situations, though not here, because
 I love reason, and I'm perfectly aware of the difference.
 I also know what a concept means like rules of evidence.
 I'm not sure that's a concept as widely circulated in these circles as it needs to be.
 In other words, how do you tell shit from Shinola?
 That's very critical.
 And I think reason can take us only a certain distance, and then we have to go with the
 divine imagination, but with all safety systems fully in operation, or the divine imagination
 will lead us into complete paranoia.
 This is what happens to a body of knowledge when it's unable to make good on its first
 premises.
 In other words, if you have a great notion of reality, but you can't confirm it, then
 it must be because evil forces are conspiring against you and somehow subverting the success
 of your neat version of reality.
 And as someone who at one point in my life studied the history of science, there have
 been many episodes in the history of science where great hope gave way to paranoia.
 The phlogiston phenomenon is one example, or Lysenkoan genetics.
 And it's been, what, 47 years since the Rainier Lights are close to it, and the phenomenon
 has not become more explicit.
 The hysteria has become more explicit and has wandered first in one direction and then
 another.
 But if this is a contact, it's the most peculiarly uncontact-like contact it's possible to imagine.
 It reminds me of people say of the crop circles, you know, they're communicating.
 Yes, but if they are, they picked an incredibly obscure medium in which to do it, because
 we who love communication can glean very little from what they're trying to say.
 Well, enough barn beating.
 Let me read this passage and then I'll talk more about it, and this will bring, I think,
 the thing into focus.
 I have to introduce the context, because it wasn't like that we just happened to be driving
 in a lonely and remote place and suddenly, no, it wasn't like that.
 We were in the center of the Amazon basin.
 We had come there to explore tryptamine hallucinogens.
 These are short-acting, very powerful psychedelic drugs.
 And the reason we were so interested in these drugs is because in encounters with it in
 the pure chemical form, the intoxication was invariably characterized by encounters with
 elves, gnomes, fairies, thousands of these things.
 And this is something I'm going to try and convince the UFO community of.
 What we drug people have that you don't is repeatability.
 And the scientists always said to you UFO people, what you don't have is repeatability.
 They don't want to even talk to us.
 But it is true that when you smoke DMT, for example, at a sufficiently high and prepared
 dose, you get elves.
 Everybody does.
 You may not believe it, but on the other hand, it only takes five minutes to prove that I'm
 bullshitting you 100%.
 Surely anyone who studied UFOs and alien intelligence for as many years as the people represented
 here have can afford to invest 10 minutes in the wild-eyed assertion that all you need
 to do is inhale deeply three times and you want contact, you want elves, you want alien
 intelligence, you'll have it up the kazoo.
 Now, of course, it comes from an unsanctioned dimension, but I'll talk more about that after
 the reading.
 So, here we were in the Amazon basin experimenting with mushrooms, and here is the passage.
 And so, all night long, I sat reviewing the things that had passed, seeming to divide
 my consciousness and send it both backward through my family tree and forward into the
 future.
 I seemed to see all the years still ahead.
 I saw some technique emerging from this contact, our careers pursued across time and space,
 and finally, vindication as the world realized the truth of the trans-dimensional nature
 of the Stropharia visions and the true nearness of the worlds that they had thrown open.
 For it had become my belief that the contact with an intelligent and utterly alien species
 was beginning for humanity.
 It seemed that out of the long night of cosmic time, the novelty of novelties, the moment
 of contact between minds on utterly different planes was beginning.
 We were among the first to achieve contact with this other.
 It was the real thing.
 We had come to the equatorial jungle to explore the dimensions glimpsed in tryptamine ecstasy,
 and there, in the darkness of the heart of the Amazon, we had been found and touched
 by this bizarre and ancient life form that was now awakening to the global potential
 of a symbiotic relationship with technical humanity.
 All night long, strange vistas and insights poured through me.
 I saw gigantic machineries and worlds of vegetable and mechanical forms on scales inconceivably
 vast.
 Time, agitized and glittering, seemed to pour by me like living superfluids, inhabiting
 dream regions of terrible pressure and super cold.
 And I saw the plan, the mighty plan, at last.
 It was an ecstasy, an ecstasis that lasted hours and placed the seal of completion on
 all of my previous life.
 At the end, I felt reborn, but as what I knew not.
 In the gray light of a false dawn, and I should say I wasn't loaded, I was insomniac.
 In the gray light of a false dawn, the wave of internal imagery faded away.
 I rose from where I had been sitting for hours and stretched.
 The sky was clear, but it was still very early and stars were still shining dimly in the
 west.
 In the southeast, the direction toward which my attention had been focused, the sky was
 clear except for a line of fog or ground mist lying parallel to the horizon only a few feet
 above the treetops on the other side of the river, perhaps a half mile away.
 As I stretched and stood up on the flat stone where I had been sitting, I noticed that the
 line of fog seemed to have grown darker and now seemed to be churning or rolling in place.
 I watched very carefully as the rolling line of darkening mist split into two parts and
 each of these smaller clouds also divided apart.
 It took only a minute or so for these changes to be executed, and I was now looking at four
 lens-shaped clouds of the same size lying in a row and slightly above the horizon only
 a half mile or so away.
 A wave of excitement swept through me followed by a wave of definite fear.
 I was glued to the spot, unable to move as in a dream.
 As I watched, the clouds re-coalesced in the same way that they had divided apart, taking
 another few minutes.
 The symmetry of this dividing and rejoining and the fact that the smaller clouds were
 all the same size lent the performance an eerie air as if nature herself were suddenly
 the tool of some unseen organizing agency.
 As the clouds re-coalesced, they seemed to grow even darker and more opaque.
 As they all became one, the clouds seemed to whirl inward like a tornado or a water
 spout, and it flashed into my mind, perhaps it was a water spout, something I still have
 never seen.
 But even as the thought formed, I heard a high-pitched u-ulating whine, "Whee, whee,
 whee," come drifting over the jungle treetops, obviously from the direction of the thing
 I was watching.
 I turned and gave one glance at the river house 70 feet behind me and up the steep hill,
 gauging whether I had time to run and awaken someone to get confirmation of what was happening.
 To arouse someone, I would have had to go hand over hand up the slope and consequently
 take my eyes off the thing I was watching.
 In the space of an instant, I decided that I could not cease observing.
 I tried to shout, but no sound came from my fear-constricted throat.
 The siren sound was rapidly gaining pitch, and in fact, everything seemed to be speeding
 up.
 The moving cloud was definitely growing rapidly larger, moving straight toward the place where
 I was.
 I felt my legs turn to water and sat down, shaking terribly.
 For the first time, I really believed all that had happened to us, and I knew that the
 flying concrescence was now about to take me.
 Its details seemed to solidify as it approached.
 Then it passed directly overhead at an altitude of about 200 feet, banked steeply upward,
 and was lost from sight over the edge of the slope behind me.
 In the last moment before it was lost, I completely threw open my senses to it and saw it very
 clearly.
 It was a saucer-shaped machine, rotating slowly with unobtrusive, soft blue and orange lights.
 As it passed over me, I could see symmetrical indentations on the underside.
 It was making the "hwee, hwee, hwee" sound of science fiction flying saucers.
 My emotions were all in a jumble.
 At first, I was terrified, but the moment I knew that whatever was in the sky was not
 going to take me, I felt disappointment.
 I was amazed, and I was trying to remember what I had seen as clearly as possible.
 Was it real in the naive sense in which that question is asked of UFOs and tables and chairs?
 No one else saw this thing as far as I know.
 I alone was its observer.
 I believe that had there been other observers, they would have seen what I had seen.
 But as for real, who can say?
 I saw this thing go from being a bit of cloud to being a rivet-studded aircraft of some
 kind.
 Was it more true to itself as cloud or aircraft?
 Was it a hallucination?
 Against my testimony can be put my admitted lack of sleep and our involvement with psychedelic
 plants.
 Yet curiously, this last point can be interpreted in my favor.
 I am familiar by direct experience with every known class of hallucinogen.
 What I saw that morning did not fall into any of the categories of hallucinated imagery
 I am familiar with.
 Yet also against my testimony is the inevitable incongruous detail that seems to render the
 entire incident absurd.
 It is that, as the saucer passed overhead, I saw it clearly enough to judge that it was
 identical with the UFO with three half-spheres on its underside that appears in an infamous
 photo by George Adamski, widely assumed to be a hoax.
 I had not closely followed the matter, but I accepted the expert opinion that what Adamski
 had photographed was a rigged-up end cap of a 1937 Hoover vacuum cleaner.
 But I saw this same object in the sky above La Charrera.
 Was it a fact picked up as a boyhood UFO enthusiast, something as easily picked out of my mind
 as other memories seem to have been?
 My stereotyped but already debunked notion of a UFO suddenly appears in the sky.
 By appearing in a form that casts doubt on itself, it achieves a more complete cognitive
 dissonance than if its seeming alienness were completely convincing.
 It was, if you ask me, and there is no one else really that you can ask, either a holographic
 image of a technological perfection impossible on earth today, or it was the manifestation
 of a something which in that instance chose to begin as mist and end as machine, but which
 could have appeared in any form a manifestation of a humorous something's omniscient control
 over the world of form and matter.
 And I flash forward two paragraphs.
 In the previous paragraph I had been discussing mirages and I said an ordinary mirage is something
 that we see in space that isn't there.
 Could there be mirages in time?
 In other words, could there be reflections of distant technologies that haunt space the
 way images of distant cities haunt, or time haunts space?
 I believe that this latter comes close to the mark.
 The UFO is a reflection of a future event that promises humanity's eventual mastery
 over time, space, and matter.
 We in our clumsy attempt to probe these mysteries, we meaning my brother and myself, were able
 to coax nature into throwing out this great burning scintilla of pure contradiction from
 the dark retort where she labors over the chemistry of the millennium.
 That we were able to do this is full of import.
 It meant to me that we were on the right track.
 The Stropharia cubensis mushroom is a memory bank of galactic history.
 Alien, but full of promise, it throws open a potential for understanding that will sweep
 away the petty concerns of earth and history-bound humanity.
 So that was the encounter, not the only encounter.
 The book is full of weird shit, but that is actually in a sense the most conventional
 presentation of the encounter.
 It was absolutely convincing.
 It was the Adamski disk, which I do believe is malarkey.
 It was as cognitively dissonant as it could possibly be, you see, because if it were convincing
 in its alienness, you would know what you were dealing with, a UFO from another star
 system obviously.
 But what are we to make of a 45-foot diameter Hoover end cap sailing through the blue skies
 of the Amazon?
 Well I've given a lot of thought to these questions because my method has always been
 rational.
 In other words, I hear about something weird and I go there and I say, "What can you show
 me?
 What have you got?"
 I applied this to yogins in India, UFOs, fairy sightings, reason.
 But a willingness to explore the edges has been the method.
 And when I applied that method to the spiritual traditions of mystical India, I came away
 with considerable skepticism as to their accomplishments in that domain, at least in the contemporary
 scene.
 I have never seen a violation of physics that was not connected somehow with a psychedelic
 experience.
 My entry into psychedelics began very naively.
 It was presented as instant psychotherapy or insight, however vaguely defined.
 What I discovered when you make your way through these chemical families is that not all psychedelics
 are alike.
 And this very small family of compounds called the tryptamine hallucinogens bear careful
 examination if we're seriously interested in this question of extraterrestrial penetration
 of the human world.
 On two grounds immediately the mushroom bears looking at.
 First argument, entirely a physical argument, psilocybin is 4-phosphoryloxy-NN-dimethyl
 tryptamine.
 What this means is that there is a phosphorous group substituted at the 4 position of the
 molecule.
 Now here's the headline folks.
 This is the only 4-phosphorylated indole on this planet.
 On this planet.
 Now if you were searching for extraterrestrial thumbprints on the biology of earth, you would
 look for molecules that are unique, that don't have near relative spread through other life
 forms.
 In psilocybin we have a perfect example of this.
 It is the only 4-phosphorylated indole known to occur in nature.
 Nature doesn't work like that folks.
 Nature builds always on what has previously been accomplished.
 So this is a red flag saying at the molecular level this thing looks like an alien artifact
 at the molecular level.
 Now let's cut to the chase.
 What happens when you take 30 milligrams of this stuff?
 I don't know how sophisticated this audience is.
 People who have never taken hallucinogenic drugs but have some mild interest in it or
 just in the course of generally educating yourself about reality, I think people who
 have never taken psychedelics think that it's sort of like dreaming while you're awake or
 geometric patterns, colors.
 They always say the colors, the colors, malarkey the colors, forget the colors.
 It is not like that.
 Psychedelic experiences at effective doses, I'm not piddling doses, effective doses are
 visionary scenarios.
 They are three-dimensional unfoldments of information that is extraordinarily complex,
 architectonically connected and ordered.
 That's not what I want to talk about.
 I want to talk about what is unique to psilocybin.
 What is unique to psilocybin is that overlaid over what I just described is, big surprise,
 a voice, a voice.
 Everybody knows this who has to do with this stuff.
 Gordon Wasson, Richard Schultes, Albert Hoffman, the giants know that this stuff is animate.
 This is not a drug.
 It's something which is disguising itself as a drug in order not to spread alarm.
 There is a voice which speaks to you in the language of your homeland, whether that be
 Mazatecan or English.
 And the voice surprises you.
 In other words, you cannot anticipate it.
 Now of course at this point, though I don't imagine many of them have forced their way
 in here, the psychological school will come forward and say, "Well, it's a voice, typical
 of mental aberration, symptom one of schizophrenia, a voice."
 Yes, yes, we are not naive.
 We went to the same schools you did, thank you.
 However, the fact that this voice is accessible to non-pathological personalities and on demand
 is highly suggestive, I think.
 Next point, but let me belabor the point.
 This experience is available to everyone.
 The thing I love about psychedelics is no guru, no method, no teacher.
 You don't need any of that crap.
 This will work.
 If it doesn't work the first time, you didn't take enough.
 This will work.
 It will work on you, Mr. MIT engineer with your diagrams of antimatter propulsion systems.
 It will work on anybody.
 I started out from that place.
 Okay, that's the first thing.
 Now, this small family of compounds of which psilocybin is an interesting example because
 it occurs in the mushroom.
 And let me say this, it's my workshop, we'll do it my way.
 What troubles me about the current state of UFO modeling is how incredibly pedestrian
 the alien is assumed to be.
 I mean, their little gray suits, their charmingly slanted eyes, their cheerful interest in our
 reproductive capacity.
 I mean, I think that the alien will be so alien that your jaw will hang in the air.
 And expecting to meet an anthropoid-like alien with an interest in your reproductive machinery
 and gross industrial capacity is as culture-bound a concept as searching NGC 321 for a good
 Italian restaurant.
 It's absurd on the face of it.
 Let us for a moment hypothesize aliens.
 The guy before me spoke of being 100,000 years in advance.
 If you want to know how far in advance you are, if you're 100,000 years in advance, ask
 yourself where were we 100,000 years ago?
 And I think you see the gap is very large.
 If we are in fact being penetrated by a non-human intelligence that presumably somehow, perhaps
 not physically, but perhaps physically, can cross from star to star, then we are dealing
 with something vastly more sophisticated than ourselves.
 That's just given at the get-go.
 Well if it's vastly more advanced than we are, then DNA sequencing, complete understanding
 of the molecular genesis of thought, so forth and so on, would be no problem for that level
 of technical sophistication.
 You would also like to think that ethics and good taste would keep pace with this evolutionary
 process.
 So to my mind, the idea of fleets of alien spacecraft filling the skies of Earth, that's
 as unsubtle as kicking down somebody's front door with an M1 tank to announce, "We're here!"
 I don't think you would do it that way.
 If you really wanted to study an aboriginal race and you really had a hot technology,
 what you would do is you would study their social psychology and you would say, "Are
 there any chinks in the armor of their expectations about how reality behaves?"
 And you would discover in studying us, this species intoxicates itself and it has a curious
 attitude towards its intoxications.
 Anything goes.
 So if somebody drinks a pint of Stolichnaya and announces that they see pink elephants,
 we are all amused.
 We say, "Of course you do!
 You were drunk out of your mind."
 Isn't it obvious that an alien would hide its presence in an intoxication?
 That this is the non-invasive, tasteful, respectful way to have intercourse with another species.
 You say, you put yourself into a plant.
 You put a barcode into a molecule.
 Then the shaman intoxicates himself and he says, "Aha, it's an ancestor spirit or it's
 the soul of the plant."
 But whatever it is, it's giving me good information.
 It's telling me where the reindeer went.
 It's telling me what the weather will be next week.
 It's telling me who stole the goose and it's telling me who slept with who and it's telling
 me who among the ill members of my tribe will live and who will die.
 And with that information I can make a political career as a healer.
 So you see, the extraterrestrial is a mean trader.
 The extraterrestrial is trading data.
 Trading data, maybe, but I think trading because it's taking something away.
 So first it tells you where the reindeer have gone and who's sleeping with who.
 Later it suggests things like alphabets.
 Later still it suggests things like the calculus.
 Do you see where it's leading?
 Control of human history is the signifier of the presence of the alien.
 Human history is what happens to an advanced animal species when it is inner penetrated
 on a scale of a million years by a mind in another dimension.
 We were selected out of the swift running river of animal organization, took an orthogonal
 turn and headed out into the world of symbolic activity, cognition, signification, ritual,
 analysis, projection.
 The flying saucers, the alien, the other, is what is sculpting us out of animal organization
 as we move toward it in time.
 This is what shamanism is all about.
 This is what the psychedelic people are discovering as they descend into these trances.
 Well, okay, well, one more thing and then I'll leave that given the interests of this
 crowd.
 Mushrooms cannot be found in the fossil record older than 40 million years.
 You say ask a straight paleontologist why and he says it's because they're soft bodied
 and none survived older than that.
 We have soft bodied creatures in the Burgess Shale that are dating out at 3.8 billion years.
 If you assume a super technology, it means that the species that holds that technology
 can design itself.
 It is not subject to the tyranny of whatever form it inherits from the evolutionary processes
 of its home planet.
 When we in our primitive state are on the brink of being able to design ourselves through
 genetic manipulation, therefore look at Stropharycubensis, the psychedelic mushroom.
 Spores are the most electron dense organic material known.
 The electron density of the outer case of a spore approaches that of a metal.
 A single mushroom in the sporeulation phase can shed up to 3 million spores a minute for
 up to six weeks.
 One mushroom can do this.
 I maintain following Bracewell that a strategy for extraterrestrial contact carried on by
 a super technology would take the following form.
 Build a probe.
 Give the probe the ability to replicate itself.
 Start these probes out from your home planet and at every say every half AU or something
 the probe replicates so that the volume of probes stays constant as the volume of space
 increases.
 If you're carrying out an exhaustive search of the galaxy for life, it's very hard to
 imagine a civilization that could visit every star and monitor every star over long periods
 of time.
 A much more efficient strategy would be the phone home strategy.
 You send essentially a credit card which says if you get this message call the enclosed
 toll free number and immediately report your location.
 We will come at that point.
 That's I think what's going on.
 Human history is the effort to phone home.
 Human history is the effort to decode a message in the terrestrial environment of this planet
 that shamans and dreamers and mystics and let's throw in a few schizophrenics and out
 and out screwballs have been accessing for millennia.
 And it's not new.
 It's very very old and it cannot be without significance that the Mayan civilization which
 used these mushrooms became obsessed with 2012 AD.
 I who am absolutely phobic of obsessions in all forms am myself obsessed by December 21st
 2012 AD.
 That's the bottom line of the bar code.
 And my notion of what's going on in the informational phase space of contemporary existence is that
 we are under the influence of a kind of attractor.
 This is this thing I mentioned which seized hold of us as a higher animal and steered
 us toward language ritual religion the calculus so forth and so on.
 This attractor is literally sucking the world of three dimensional space and time into itself.
 This is what history is.
 History is biological time turning into some other kind of time.
 History is speeding up as we approach the Omega point.
 And here is a granted idiotic but nevertheless serviceable metaphor for how this thing at
 the end of time works and why we are driven so nutty by things like flying saucers.
 The transcendental attractor at the end of the historical process.
 Think of it like one of those mirrored bar balls that hang in a disco that catch the
 light and put scintillations on the walls as it spins around.
 As we approach the transcendental object at the end of time the reflections the precursive
 anticipations what Wordsworth called the intimations of immortality grow ever stronger.
 The world is becoming more and more irrational more and more fraught with anomaly.
 You know not only flying saucers but Bigfoot and the crop circles which are quite new as
 a wrinkle.
 There will be more and more of this stuff as we approach the moment of concrescence
 and people in the past Christ Buddha you name them.
 These are people who literally stood in a correct geometrical relationship to the transcendental
 object at the end of time.
 But it was just dumb luck.
 That's all.
 They were not superior people.
 I'm sure that if you could enter into the mind of Christ as he went around Galilee performing
 his miracles the main thing which preoccupied his inner circumlocution was the question
 why me?
 What's happening?
 Why am I compelled to do and say these things?
 Well the answer is you've got eschatological fever.
 You've been infected by a retrovirus that operates not in space but in time.
 And to the degree that one can clear themselves of the momentum of past presupposition the
 transcendental object at the end of time actually comes into view.
 Plato said time is the moving image of eternity.
 The way I think of shamanism and psychedelic voyaging is that it is transdimensional travel
 literally not in the undefined way that you often hear it used but in the mathematical
 sense.
 A shaman and a psychedelic person and a UFO contactee is someone who has seen the end.
 They simply didn't know what they were looking at because who knows what the end looks like.
 The world of historical possibility can creases into a mercurial hologrammatic disk part bios
 part machine part syntax part mind.
 The categories dissolve.
 The world is not what it appears to be.
 I was very interested in coming to this thing and studying the psychology of the group and
 it was very fascinating to me that both of the speakers where I listened to the whole
 thing were very concerned to refute the psychological explanation which I gather is the antichrist
 around here.
 And as I understand it somebody said to me the first thing they said to me I thought
 my god these people are on edge.
 He said I want you to know that this Jungian thing is bullshit.
 I said okay that's fine.
 However this is like beating a dead horse.
 Has the news from quantum physics not reached the UFO community.
 Is it not now thoroughly assimilated that an observer is necessary for reality to exist
 at all.
 It's all psychological.
 There's no distinction.
 And so these people who have such enthusiasm for beryllium ships from our tourists or wherever
 should be informed you know.
 Same same.
 That's important news.
 It isn't now and where is it coming from.
 Let's let's not rush past this here.
 Physics has always been the paradigmatic science.
 All sciences have physics envy.
 Why is that.
 Because it's not unlikely in a physics experiment to be able to predict an experimental result
 to three decimal points of accuracy.
 That's science.
 You don't get that in sociology.
 You don't get that in psychology.
 You don't even get that in biology.
 And physics is the most mathematical of all the sciences.
 So around the towering edifice of physics the more frightened and uncertain of the sciences
 have gathered near her skirts.
 Well so now what is physics telling us.
 It's saying folks hold your horses here.
 It turns out the cheerful world of billiard ball like atoms winging their way through
 Newtonian space is in for serious revision.
 It turns out that these particles aren't even particles.
 They're waves.
 Well no not exactly.
 They're both.
 Well what I actually meant to say was and you discover the babble of mad people.
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