Don that tinfoil hat with love
My tinfoil comes from a man who glibly talks 'aliens' as a matter of fact.
Picture: iStock
Put on your tinfoil hat and indulge me. What if Rocky Horror’s fish-net stockinged, boa-constricted Dr Frank-N-Furter really was an alien?
What if he was right with his tear-streaked face floating in the pool telling me: “Give yourself over to absolute pleasure. Swim the warm waters of sin…”
What if he really, really preferred my world to whatever universe they banished him from?
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My tinfoil comes from a man who glibly talks “aliens” as a matter of fact: Dr Steven Greer.
Now lift your hat and hear me clearly: he was just a doctor working in a trauma unit. Blood on the floor is what he knows – and apparently bloody aliens.
But the doctor is hard to dismiss: he surrounded himself with US army, navy and air force general-hyphen “whistle-blowers” on UFO sightings that his government kept top secret.
Not that I’m a disbeliever: my friend told me how she, as a 10 year old, watched a “big thing with lights that moved but I can’t explain how, as far as your streetlight is from us” – 12 kids playing on the stoep all saw it – but the one grown-up who told Walvis Bay harbour about it, first heard: “I see what you see” and then deny, deny, deny.
Greer tells me, three tortuous hours later, in convoluted words why governments won’t acknowledge aliens.
Lost in translation I’ll interpret him simply: they don’t want to scare us witless.
His tinfoil hat is that government will manipulate us to believe the aliens, like Putin, will use nukes – or the threat of it.
And that’s where my tinfoil hat comes off, even though I cried with the professor who, eight years later, still had tears rolling when he told how the ETs fixed his hearing overnight.
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We’re an amazing species. Full stop. We live our intellect; we question; we learn acceptance; we see the chaff from the hay.
We know. We don’t need tinfoil hats. All we need is love. And for the non-awakeners?
Hear the narrator end The Rocky Horror Show: And crawling on the planet’s face, some insects called the human race.
Lost in time, and lost in space, and meaning… But did I tell you I once, for a split second, met a man with reptilian eyes?
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