Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Reeve's And Robin's

I was reading an article about movie and television "predictions" some time ago, when a stray thought hit me: Hadn't Christopher Reeve once, prior to his 1995 riding accident that left him paralyzed from the head down, played a quadriplegic in an old crime movie? I looked it up, and sure enough there were lots of resources on the Internet mentioning it. But it turns out that my memory wasn't completely on the money. The movie in question was the HBO-produced Above Suspicion from 1995, and Reeve "only" played a paraplegic in it...well, there is a bit more to the story actually, but I won't spoil anything for those who want to watch it (f.x. via the youtube link below).





When I finally sat down and watched Above Suspicion the other day, I didn't recognize it at all. The movie I thought I remembered was Deathtrap from 1982, which Reeve stars in together with Michael Caine. The plot and setting is completely different from Above Suspicion, and most importantly Reeve's character in Deathtrap is not in a wheelchair. So somewhere along the way I must have gotten the two mixed up in my head, for some reason. Still, it was a bit of a "wow" moment for me, especially when looking further into things. 

What makes the Christopher Reeve case particularly interesting, is that life seems to have imitated art with very short notice: Above Suspicion premiered on TV only six days before Reeve's accident. That and the fact that Reeve had gone to great lengths preparing for the movie, which was after all just a relatively small TV-production. He even went as far as staying at a spinal cord trauma unit for days at a time, so he would be able to play his role more convincingly. It makes you ponder the possibility that he somehow manifested his own accident, after focusing so intently on it within a fictional setting. Either that, or the universe handed out a particularly cruel dish of irony that day. 

Reeve was by reputation, and by his own admission, a very self-absorbed person before his accident, and he eventually looked back with regret on his sometimes smug attitude after leaving the rehabilitation unit, saying to himself "thank god that isn't me". Despite that, Reeve did make an effort to promote the cause for spinal cord injury victims prior to the release of the movie. "One moment everything is fine and then the world falls apart", as he was quoted saying at the time.

This was exactly the situation he faced after he was thrown off his horse "Eastern Express" during a riding competition on May the 27th, 1995. Reeve broke two of his upper veterbrae in the fall, and it was against most odds that he survived at all, with his brain functions intact. His head was almost completely seperated from his spine and had to be surgically reattached.

Reeve as Dempsey Cain in Above Suspicion (left) and in real life, not long after his injury (right).
That Reeve's accident took place so shortly after the airing of Above Suspicion, generated a lot of discussion at the time. But it also fed into the already existing legend of the "Superman curse", which refers to the many misfortunes that have fallen upon people involved with the Superman franchise. What fuelled it even further was that former 1950's Adventures of Superman star George Reeves was already known for being one of the prior victims of the "curse", dying in obscurity at a very young age. The obvious similarities between the names 'Reeves' and 'Reeve' have fostered a lot of speculation among Forteans ever since.

If you wan't to know more about the Superman curse, there is a good wikipedia entry on it here, but I recommend that you also check out this article, which looks at the matter from a more sceptical angle. Also, a more recent addition to the curse has been put forward by Loren Coleman at Twilight Language. And if you feel like taking it even further, Loren discusses the "name game" qualities of the Reeve/Reeves/Reaves name variants, originally started by John Keel in connection with UFO's, here and in his book Mysterious America

And if you are thinking that a UFO/ET connection sounds ridiculous, you might want to reconsider. Not only is Christopher Reeve by far the most recognized person to ever play Superman - who after all is one of the most famous aliens of all time. In 1995 he also starred in John Carpenter's remake of Village of The Damned, one of the most classic alien invasion stories ever written.


The Black Fox mini-series was filmed in 1993, but aired a few months after Reeve's horse-riding accident.



The Death of Robin Williams


Robin Williams died by apparent suicide on the 11th of August this year, and several "predictions" have surfaced from this event as well. Williams had a very strong connection to Christopher Reeve. They both went to Cornell University, where they were often the only people in their classes. Subsequently they became the only two students to be picked out for the prestigious Juillard school in New York, in 1973. They both studied drama at Juillard and kept a close friendship for years afterwards, while their acting carreers took off in different directions.

Shortly after Reeve's accident, Williams played a pracitical joke on him at the hospital, pretending to be a German doctor who was supposed to perform a rectal exam. Reeve has often stated how much this incident encouraged him at the time, and shows just how strong their friendship was. 

Robin Williams with Christopher Reeve and family, towards the end of Reeve's life.
It is curious that the death of Robin Williams should also be surrounded with "synchronicities". Among the top examples, is the fact that the BBC aired an episode of Family Guy, where the lead character Peter Griffin nearly commits suicide after creating an army of Williams clones, just 10 minutes prior to Reuters announcement of his death

As a spokesperson for the BBC said about the episode: 
 It was scheduled more than two weeks ago so it is just an uncanny coincidence. Some of our people who work here noticed that the death of Robin Williams was announced just as this episode ended. 
The said episode is titled "Viewer Mail #2", and is actually made up of three small segments, all based on viewer suggestions. After watching it I was surprised to discover that the episode included not just one, but in fact two suicide attempts. The second involves Kurt Cobain. Both can be seen in the video below.




Family Guy
came under notable scrutiny in synchromystic and conspiracy circles last year too,
 for it's "predictions" about the Boston Marathon bombings in the episode 'Turban Cowboy'. It even made it into the mainstream media, due to a "hoaxed" video that had been circulating. But despite the questionable editing of the above mentioned video, there were still many details that could not be so easily dismissed. Additionally, the bombings were linked in several ways to another Seth McFarlane creation - American Dad - via the episode 'Missing Kink'.

One has to bear in mind that Family Guy is a hugely popular show in many countries, so the chances of that episode being shown somewhere in the world, at the same time as Robin Williams death, are not as astronomical as you may initially think. But those watching the episode at the time may rightly have been very confused about the news that met them, after having watched Robin Williams and two attempted suicides in the same program, within a matter of minutes.

Another thing that was pointed out almost immediately after the news of Williams death, was that his suicide mirrored that of his character's son, Kyle, in the 2009 movie World's Greatest Dad. In it, the son is made into a legend only after his death, and the story is effectively a social critique of the way society treats its dead (and living). In addition, actor David Carradine was found dead later that same year, due to the exact same cause as Kyle in World's Greatest Dad: erotic autoasphyxation (look it up).

And, would you know, another connection can be made here as well: World's Greatest Dad was written and directed by comedian Bobcat Goldthwait. Although fairly well known in the US, most Europeans will probably only remember Goldthwait for his role as the edgy and crazy 'Zed' in the Police Academy movies. But he was also a good friend of Nirvana, and toured and performed extensively with the band during their final years. They also did some very weird promotional material together, as can be seen in the clip below.




The ending of World's Greatest Dad has been visually compared to the cover art of the "Nevermind" album and the plot of the movie ditto with the spectacle that followed Kurt Cobain's death, here.

Finally, in retrospect, it is quite eerie to read this IGN forum topic about Robin Williams coming death. IGN is home to one of the biggest gaming communities on the Internet, and the topic was posted by some apparently random user only 3 days before Williams actually died. But perhaps it is not so mysterious after all. As someone mentions later in the discussion, there is actually a chance that Williams could have read the topic and become further motivated to commit suicide, as he was well known for being an avid gamer (he named his daughter Zelda after the Nintendo game series). Of course, we now know that Williams had been battling severe depression and alcoholism for years. On top of that, he had recently been diagnosed with the early stages of Parkinsons disease. So the incentive was there already. But it should make anyone think twice about where and what they write nowadays.









Sunday, August 31, 2014

The Basilisks Of Copenhagen

A basilisk on the former Danish 100 kroner-bill.
In the autumn of 1674, a stuffed basilisk was put on display in Copenhagen. Or at least that is what people were meant to believe. In actuality, this curiosity was a predecessor of the type of "constructed" creatures that P.T. Barnum and others would later use in their notorious sideshows. And just like the infamous Feejee Mermaid of the mid-19th century, the 1674 basilisk attracted many people and created a lot of buzz in the Danish press, which back then was in its infancy.

The spectacle should not be taken out of context, however. There was something of a hype surrounding basilisks at the time, with many curious incidents taking place in Denmark during the previous years. Some of these are described at length in Jan Bondeson's The Feejee Mermaid, and in other books. The 1674 episode is largely unknown outside of Denmark, however, which is why i have chosen to focus on it here.

But just what is this legendary animal known as the basilisk? It has been written about by such luminaries as Chaucer, Leonardo da Vinci, Shakespeare and Voltaire, and the church came to view it as the epitomy of evil during the middle ages. And yet, the descriptions of the creature vary wildly, depending on where you read about it. So before we look at the aforementioned case, let's spend some time unravelling the genealogy of the basilisk, and try to sort fact from fiction.


Basilisks and Cockatrices


The basilisk, "King of Serpents", has a really complex history of origin - perhaps more than most creatures of legend. Its story is similar to the way the modern chupacabra or goatsucker myth developed: On the surface of it, you might think you have a grasp of what the creature is supposed to look like. But if you dig a little deeper, you find out that over the years, depending on the geographical area, people have developed widely disparate ideas about it. 

In the case of the chupacabra, descriptions ranges from bipedal critters akin to "grey" aliens, to 4-legged canine beasts. In the case of the basilisk, which has quite a few more years behind it, it gets even more confusing.


The Basilisk depicted as a crested snake.
The word Basilisk derives from the Greek Basiliskos - the diminutive of Basileus, which means king. So the straightforward translation of basilisk would be "little king". Part of the reason for this name has to do with the crownlike features on the creatures head - something which has been present since the very first descriptions of it. The first recorded mention of the basilisk appears to be by Pliny The elder in his "Natural History", a series of books published in the period 77-79 AD, where it is described as:
"...not above twelve Fingers' Breadth long; with a white Spot on the Head, as if distinguished with a Diadem. With his Hiss he driveth away other Serpents; he moveth not his Body forward by multiplied Windings like other Serpents, but he goeth with Half his Body upright and aloft from the Ground; he killeth all Shrubs not only that he toucheth, but that he breatheth upon; he burns up Herbs, and breaketh the Stones; so great is his Power for Mischief!" 
The above description points towards some sort of snake, and while there is no clear consensus as to exactly which, there does seem to be an agreement among basilisk enthusiasts, that it refers to some form of spitting cobra. This is because a) cobras are the only snakes that can raise the upper part of their bodies, and b) the "diadem" matches a cobra's crest. Also, the basilisk's arch nemesis was said to be the weasel or mongoose - the natural enemies of all cobras (as we all know from the Rikki-Tikki-Tavi story).

Many cobra candidates have been put forward over the years, including the Egyptian Black-necked spitting cobra (Naja Nigricollis), an animal which according to Oberon Zell-Ravenheart fits Pliny's description the best, because of its small size (up to 7 feet long). But without being an expert, I think that even this doesn't quite match Pliny's "twelve fingers breadth" (approximately 20 centimeters). 

A closer fit would be the Mozambique spitting cobra (Naja Mossambica), which usually grows to about 3 - 3 1/2 feet. But these aren't found as far away as Cyreneica (today, eastern Libya), which is where Pliny places the basilisks' roaming grounds. In any case, one explanation could be that perhaps most of the lower part of the cobra was obscured by grass, in the encounters that were the basis for Pliny's entry. Following this logic, only the upper part of the snake's body and head would be visible, making it appear much smaller than it actually was. But we might just as well be dealing with an amalgamation of animals and stories.

Egyptian Black-necked spitting cobra (Naja Nigricollis). 
In retrospect, then, the mystery of the basilisk perhaps both started and ended with Pliny. But these facts did of course not prevent further legends from developing, in part because the stories about the basilisk spread to countries where cobra snakes didnt exist, or had ever been heard of. The attributes of the basilisk therefore morphed in different ways, depending on the geographical area.

The first mention of the basilisk in Denmark, is supposedly found in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicles from the year 1000. Then, during the first crusades of the late 11th century, the vikings returned with more detailed information about the creature. Since that time, it has been used regularly as a motif in many different connections. The Danish city of Roskilde in particular, has a lot of basilisk lore attached to it. It should also be mentioned that there is a clear connection, and sometimes overlap, between the basilisk and the Lindorm in Danish folklore and animal mythology.


Clay basilisk from the 12th century. Now a part of a private collection located in Roskilde, Denmark

During the late 12th century, the notion that a basilisk came from the egg of a rooster that had mated with a serpent, and had to be hatched by a snake or toad, was made popular by the English naturalist Alexander Neckham. In this connection Neckham came up with the term "basil-cock". There might be some connection here to a chicken embryo, which can sometimes look a like a snake (This could also explain the story about Ludwig Kepler, who - the story goes - found a serpent-like animal inside his Easter egg in 1649). 

But overall, what was happening around this time was that a new type of legendary creature, the cockatrice, was coming into shape and changing the image of the basilisk. The cockatrice is usually depicted as having the body and wings of a dragon, and the head (and sometimes feet) of a rooster. The amalgamation of these two legendary animals, resulted in the basilisk gaining more bird-like features from the middle ages forward. Also, eventually, the name cockatrice came to be used interchangeably with basilisk.

Two illustrations depicting cockatrice-basilisks or basil-cocks. 

To end this trail of obscurity (and bear in mind that this was the condensed version), there is one more loose end that needs to be tied: The general physical attributes of the basilisk/cockatrice, was used as inspiration for the naming of a real genus of crested lizards, discovered in South America in the 18th century: The Common Basilisk. So don't ever let anyone tell you that basilisks don't exist.

A "Modern" basilisk, also known as a "Jesus Lizard".


The Copenhagen Basilisks


In the mid to late 1600's, there was a large and sudden influx of basilisk stories coming in from all over Europe, and it is within this climate that we should view the many Danish basilisk stories and incidents.

in 1651, the famous Danish anatomist Thomas Bartholin (who was also a recognized expert on basilisks), was called upon by King Frederick III (1609-1670) to examine a curious case: A court servant claimed to have seen, with his own eyes, a rooster laying an egg. When Bartholin dissected the rooster, he found that it was male through and through, and thus had no means of physically laying an egg. But the servant stuck to his story, and it was believed to be true by the king and most of the royal family.

Bartholin himself eventually became much more sceptical about basilisks. He even had to disappoint Frederick III at a later point, when the king showed him (what he thought was) a dried basilisk, that he had purchased for his Royal Museum ("Det Kongelige Kunstkammer" - a somewhat bizarre precursor of todays museums, which operated from 1650 to 1825). This "creature" was a fake, carved from the bodies of two rayfish, something which is mentioned specifically in the catalogue of exhibition pieces that featured in the Royal Museum. But, nevertheless, the "basilisk" was a part of the museum collection for many years, alongside the remains of the egg and rooster from the 1651 incident. With all these elements, Frederick III attempted to show the natural cycle of basilisks. 

Recently, I mobilized an extensive search into the whereabouts of the above mentioned items, but they seem to have disappeared almost two centuries ago, and not even the most knowledgable curators and conservationists of the Danish Museums could give me any answers as to why. The last existing record of the "basilisk" is from the Zoological Museum, who received and subsequently lost it (or disposed of it) during the 1800's. Other surviving items from the Royal Museum can be seen today at the Geological Museum in Copenhagen, via the exhibition "De Særeste Ting" (The Strangest Things").


From the exhibition "De Særeste Ting": A reconstruction of items from Ole Worm's Museum Wormianum, which later became a substantial part of The Royal Museum.
Four years after King Frederick III's death, basilisk fever struck Copenhagen again. In the September 1674 issue of Denmarks first real newspaper, Extraordinaires Maanedlige Relationer ("Extraordinary Monthly Happenings"), the front page was dedicated to the arrival of a man, who claimed to have in his possession a stuffed basilisk he had purchased in Africa. For some amount of money, it read, it was possible to see this creature while the man was in Copenhagen. The episode is also mentioned in Holbek & Piø's Fabeldyr og Sagnfolk, but the article gives some more details.

Apparently the owner had visited Germany shortly before, to have the creature checked by "some very knowledgable people", and had eventually accepted - or admitted - that it was a fake. But obviously this did not prevent him from touring around with it. In the article, the basilisk is described as "very nicely constructed", and hard to tell apart as a fake. But that it "nevertheless was clear that it had been carved from some kind of skate or rayfish". Whether or not this was a conclusion made by the newspaper - based on an informed opinion or otherwise - it demonstrates that this was already a well-known (and often convincing) method of creating basilisks at the time.

Faked basilisk from the collection of the Brothers Besler of Nuremberg. This is probably also what King Frederick III's basilisk, as well as the one displayed in Copenhagen in 1674, looked like.

Perhaps the biggest prize that came with discovering the 1674 article, was this very nice chalcography print that appeared alongside it, which, I later learned, is actually the very first illustration to appear in a Danish newspaper: 
                           

At first glance, I thought the image to be the famous basilisk illustration by Georg Wedel, originally published in Ephemerides in 1672. But Jan Bondeson pointed out to me that even if they both are meant to depict the same type of basilisk, the images are very different indeed. This can be seen by comparing the above illustration with Wedel's below:



The Extraordinaires article does not state, however, whether the drawing was made in connection with the displayed basilisk, or even if it was meant to depict it at all. But whatever the case may be, it seems to be virtually unknown among cryptozoologists and anomaly researchers, making it a nice addition to the existing public images of basilisks.  

What happened to the traveling man and his African basilisk, I do not know. Quite possibly he continued his travels around Europe, further fueling the basilisk myth in the countries he visited. As for the Basilisk hype in Denmark specifially, it appears to have reached its apex with the 1674 episode. But stories about basilisks continued to be told, and was a part of Danish folklore for many years to come. And if you look a little bit closer the next time you are visiting Copenhagen, you might see one too, as they exist as ornaments in various places throughout the city. 

  • Bondeson, Jan - The Feejee Mermaid and Other Essays in Natural and Unnatural History, Cornell University Press (1999)
  • Bruun, Carl - Kjøbenhavn: en illustreret skildring af dets historie, mindesmærker og institutioner (vol. II) (1890)
  • Eberhardt, George M. - Mysterious Creatures: A Guide To Cryptozoology. ABC-CLIO (2002)
  • Extraordinaires Maanedlige Relationer, September (1674)
  • Gundestrup, Bente - Det kongelige danske Kunstkammer 1737 / The Royal Danish Kunstkammer 1737, Vol. I-II (1995) 
  • Holbek, Bengt & Piø, Iørn - Fabeldyr og Sagnfolk. Politikens Forlag, 2. Ed. (1979)
  • Kristensen, Evald Tang - Danske Sagn som de har lydt i Folkemunde (vol. 2)
  • Radford, Benjamin - Stalking the Chupacabra: The Vampire Beast in Fact, Fiction, and Folklore. University of New Mexico Press (2011)
  • Søllinge, Jette Drachman: Ambulate Duper Basiliscos! In Magasin fra Det kongelige Bibliotek, Årg. 10, nr. 1 (1995)
  • Zell-Ravenheart, Oberon - A Wizard's Bestiary: A Menagerie of Myth, Magic, and Mystery, New Page Books (2007)
  • Zorica, Zeljko - De Fantastiske Fabeldyr fra Roskilde, Kolorit (1999)

....alongside various internet resources.

Tuesday, July 15, 2014

UBO's (Unidentified Box-like Objects) - Part 2

Originally, the plan here was to continue listing UFO cases involving boxes, and highlight the similarities and connections that exist between them. But it turned out a bit differently. Instead, my focus ended up being mainly on the Gum Creek humanoid encounter, a classic Australian CE3 from early February, 1964.

It took me some time before I could properly grasp the Gum Creek incident. On the surface it seems simple, but details actually vary quite a lot, depending on where you read about it. At one point, I was so confused that it almost seemed like I was dealing with similar, but separate, incidents from around the same time. Finally I got in touch with Australian researcher John Burford, who probably has more knowledge about the case than anyone else alive. He helped me clear things up considerably.


This post has been difficult to write because, ultimately, my main interest lies with how and why the element of boxes became so prevalent, and in that sense it doesn't really matter if some details in a report turn out to be lies or confabulations, only that it has been influential enough in further reproducing this particular element of UFO culture. At the same time, though, I feel I have a certain responsibility in bringing some “objective” clarity to the Gum Creek story.

I hope readers will be able to follow both of these trails. I have done my best to separate them.


The Finnish-Australian Connection


As i showed in part 1, there exists a handful of Finnish cases involving boxes, that also have other interesting traits in common. Going further along in Albert Rosales' humanoid catalogue, I discovered a couple of really interesting reports covering the well-known 'Plympton' and 'Gum Creek' incidents. These both took place in South Australia in early 1964. But when I looked closer into the sources of the reports, I began to see a more immediate connection between them and the 1970 Imjärvi encounter (which I covered in part 1). The reason for this, is that both cases were included in an article by Australian ufologist Colin McCarthy, titled “The Plympton Story”, which featured in Flying Saucer Review (FSR) issue 4, 1970. 

This article appeared just as details of the Imjärvi encounter were slowly unfolding, with details of the flying saucer being revealed in the very same issue. To be more precise, this means that the Plympton and Gum Creek encounters were not only featured a few months prior to the details about the Imjärvi humanoid (which happened in FSR issue 5, 1970), but were also printed in the main medium where the case was unfolding. 


The Cover of Flying Saucer Review, issue 4, 1970. The Imjärvi case was not yet front page material, but it would become so in the following issue.
It should also be mentioned that Colin McCarthy's “versions” of both the Gum Creek and Plympton encounters are included in Eileen Buckle's ”The Scoriton Mystery” from 1967, which became a very popular book at the time (although for very different reasons) and therefore one to be referenced heavily. What remains a bit unclear, is why this article was included in a 1970 issue of Flying Saucer Review, when the cases covered had already been featured in a book which everyone in the UFO field knew about, 3 years earlier. But first a resumé of the accounts themselves, as they are presented in McCarthy's article:

In the early spring of 1963 (perhaps a typo, as there is no doubt that it happened in 1964) in the Adelaide suburb Plympton, South Australia, two boys of 9 and 10 years old witnessed a glowing disc like object land in a nearby field. Out of it came an approximately 7 ft tall humanoid with red skin (as if it was freshly sun-burnt), wearing a tight tunic, gauntlets, purple cape and leather cap. The tall entity also had a belt with a panel-like contraption, which it was constantly fiddling around with. After spotting the boys, it went back into the craft where another similar being was briefly seen appearing in a window. The craft took off with a humming sound.

In his article, Colin McCarthy makes an attempt of verification by drawing a parallel to the Gum Creek incident, which according to him hadn't yet gotten any publicity at the time of the Plympton encounter (and therefore couldn't have inspired the boys' story):

A few weeks prior to the Plympton encounter, In Gum Creek (about 100 miles north of Adelaide), a woman was woken up one night, by a strange light coming through her window. She looked out, and spotted a humanoid carrying a box-like contraption, about the size of a large cake tin, which it was directing towards certain areas of the garden. When it discovered her, it pointed the box in her direction, from which came a buzzing and clicking sound. According to McCarthy, the description of the humanoid “...agreed exactly with that given by the two Plympton boys.” 


FSR, issue 5, 1970: The humanoid appears.

If we put aside any technical issues about the investigation for now, the obvious question we are presented with is: Could Heinonen and Viljo have read McCarthy's article in that issue of Flying Saucer Review, and then confounded the details from the two encounters, if only on a subconcious level? It certainly seems both possible and plausible, as they would be well aware that Flying Saucer Review was the main publication for their gradually unfolding tale. There is no way one can overlook many of the similarities between the Imjärvi humanoid and the two above: the similar garments, the belt with a panel, and of course the box. Put these things together, minus of course a few details such as the difference in height and skin color, you have almost all the main features of the Imjärvi humanoid. 


But...


As much as I found all this to be a revelation (although I might not be the first to have it), it still raises further questions. Because, even if the Plympton and Gum Creek incidents were erroneously reported, and confounded, they still fit perfectly into the “tradition” of the type of cases I talked about in part 1 - many of which took place several years before in...Finland. The basic elements of the Imjärvi humanoid encounter had been experienced there, long before anything of the sort happened in Australia, and therefore, so to speak, didn't need to be “imported” from anywhere. But perhaps all it needed was a revitalization, which was then (coincidentally?) provided by Colin McCarthy's article? Maybe there is another more subtle connection too, since there was quite a diaspora of Finnish people in Australia, during the years 1947-1971Are UFO experiences so independent of any objective truth, that “the good story”, will always take precedence, achieve a life of it's own, and further perpetuate UFO mythology? 


These are interesting questions for sure, and some can in part be answered. But I would like to save that discussion for a later post, and instead look at another, more accurate, account of the Gum Creek incident. Regarding the Plympton case, it seems that Colin McCarthy got some of the details wrong here too, and that the boys could perhaps have heard about what happened at Gum Creek after all. I won't go further into it than that, but instead suggest that you look at this post on Keith Basterfield's blog, where Gum Creek is referred to as the Clare Incident. 


The "real" Gum Creek


Colin McCarthy might not be one of the most well-known names in ufology, but he was a very active and enthusiastic investigator in Australia at the time. Unfortunately, he was also a person who relied too much on his own memory, rather than on written notes. Furthermore, he was known for being more inclined than most, when it came to telling an entertaining tale before an audience. By mentioning this, I don't mean to imply that he deliberately lied about anything, but it should, at the very least, make anyone cautious about whether he got all the details right in the first place. 

Years after Gum Creek, and the first wave of investigation, other Australian ufologists decided to dig further into the famous encounter, as well as the many other strange experiences of the woman who was at the center of it all - Doris Player. In 1968, John Burford, together with the already seasoned ufologist Colin 'Col' Norris, managed to unearth new (as well as more accurate) details about the original humanoid encounter. Burfords "version" has been mostly overlooked until now, but is much more representative of Mrs. Players experience:

Doris Player, who had already had a long series of strange experiences together with her husband at the time, woke up February the 3d, 1964, around 2:00 or 2:30 AM by a strange light coming through her window. It was a moonlit night, but she later speculated that the light could have been from a “craft”. Then she spotted a 5.4 tall humanoid, wearing a blue-green one-piece suit, helmet, and elbow-length gloves about 30 ft away. It was carrying a 18” (45 cm) square box like object, which she assumed to be some sort of camera with a lens in front, which he was directing at the garden. When it discovered her, it pointed the box at her, from which came a buzz and click. 


As we can see, this is not completely off from Colin McCarthy's general description of the incident, but it does differ in some very critical places. First of all the comparison with the Plympton humanoid is incorrect. Doris Player described the figure she saw as 5.4 ft tall, not 7 ft, as implied by McCarthy. Also, the notorious box becomes a bit less mysterious in this account, sounding more like a “Brownie” box camera than anything else, which, according to John Burford, was also how Doris Player interpreted it. 



This similarity between "the box" and a Brownie camera becomes even more clear, when looking at this sketch by John Burford from 1968, approved by Doris Player herself.
A classic, box-style, Eastman Kodak Brownie camera.

Doris Player, her husband Humph, and the original sketch she did of the humanoid, can be seen about 6 minutes into the video clip below. The segment is mistakenly labelled “Tasmania”. The third person seen being interviewed in the field, is Colin Norris:





You might notice that the two drawings are quite different, and although this could be attributed to differences in style and skills, it raises another issue: however good this account may be, it still has to be taken into consideration, that during the years from the McCarthy investigation until 1968, the Player's could have been influenced both by popular UFO culture and publicly available UFO reports. In fact, they almost certainly were, as there were all kinds of people flocking to the area during this time, projecting their own views and interpretations of the experiences onto the couple. According to John Burford, these experiences were always very dream-like to begin with, so one can suspect that they might have been particularly open to suggestion and change. So we may never really know what exactly happened, that night in 1964 - or any of the following, for that matter.

Hope you enjoyed this little detour, and feel ready for a part 3 in the very near future.

Main Sources:

Albert Rosales' Humanoid Catalogue: http://ufoinfo.com/humanoid/

Buckle, Eileen: The Scoriton Mystery (1967)

Flying Saucer Review 1970 issues

Personal correspondence with John Burford, Bill Chalker & Keith Basterfield.

Saturday, July 5, 2014

Val Thor vs. Val Tor

The story about Valiant Thor, or Val Thor for short, has enjoyed a strange sort of revival lately. In the last couple of months, I have found mention of author/reverend/contactee Frank E. Stranges' The Stranger At The Pentagon several places, and some people I know have even sent me links to the story - independently of each other. I also learned a while back, that there is a relatively famous metal band called Valient Thorr, whose bass player calls himself Dr. Professor Nitewolf Strangees.

One of the many photos of Valiant Thor that appear in The Stranger At The Pentagon.

I had of course read about Val Thor in many UFO books prior to all this, and always brushed it off as a silly fantasy. But the name itself is one that stuck in my head from the beginning, and I have often wondered where he came up with it.

Well, I think I may have actually found out where. Browsing through a bunch of old pulps and comics a few weeks ago, I came across a story named Heritage, which featured in science fiction comic Space Adventures no. 13 (1954). The story takes place thousands of years into the future, and is about a robot who tries to find out what happened to his long gone creators, vaguely referred to as "man". The robot protagonist's name is Val Tor.

Heritage featuring Val Tor, the final story of Space Adventures issue 13 (1954). You can get the whole story here.

The Stranger At The Pentagon came out in 1967, but there were publications around by Frank E. Stranges mentioning Val Thor as early as 1960. Nevertheless, this was still many years after Heritage had been published, so it is quite possible that Frank Stranges at some point read the comic, took note of the name of the main character, and eventually - conciously or not - concocted the name Val(iant) Thor from it.

The similarities seem to end with the name, though. After all, Val Tor the robot could hardly be more different than Val Thor the holy space brother, who is a typical human-like 1950's alien. He is described by Stranges as tan, very manly, and with a "...firm grip that silently testified to strength and power". Like George Adamski's Orthon, he also comes from Venus. By contrast, the Val Tor of Heritage is a restless robot in the middle of an existential crisis, obsessed with discovering what happened to the humans who created his race, so long ago that they are now only regarded as a fairy tale. 


Stranges was involved with many different community oriented projects, as this 1960 ad from My Friend From Beyond Earth shows. 

Still, the story resonates somewhat with parts of Stranges UFO-theology. Rev. Frank E. Stranges basically used the hype about flying saucers at the time, as a vessel for promoting his own religious agenda. In his booklet My Friend From Beyond Earth, he describes his first meeting with Val Thor one December morning in 1959, during an "evangelist crusade", and from the very outset he attempts to validate the message of Val Thor in light of that of Jesus Christ. Thor himself says that he is a messenger from God, and that he has come to make people correct their errors and return to the Lord, because they have strayed too far in recent times. 

At the end of Heritage, Val Tor finally finds an underground cavern full of humans in suspended animation. He awakes a man from his slumber, but quickly realizes that humans have destructive impulses that threaten the stability of the current world order, and puts him back to sleep again. The humans in Heritage have therefore clearly also strayed about as far from God as possible, but by the power of Val Tor they are kept in check. Furthermore, the hollow earth element is something Frank Stranges also came to incorporate into his outlook on UFO's.


More Val Thor


There are no other obvious similarities between the stories of Val Thor and Val Tor. But then again, why should there be? Stranges might have found it convenient to not use an obvious name, IF he indeed purposely "borrowed" the name. And even if he didn't, does there have to be anything more than a coincidence at play? Does the name itself tell us anything?

"Val" has different etymological roots depending on the language used, but it is certainly not an uncommon short form of a name in the English speaking world, and neither is the association with words like "valiant" "vale" and "valor". Therefore the chances of some form of it being used, are not astronomical. "Tor", in the English language, means “a high rock, lofty hill, tower”, but there could have been nothing to this in the creation of robot Val's name. On the other hand, one can't help but think of the god of thunder in Norse mythology, when seeing the last name of Stranges' Pentagon friend.

It does appear to be more than coincidental, though, regardless of what associations the names awake, that they should appear in the exact same combination. And that of course begs the question - in case you were ever in doubt - if Valiant Thor was ever a real...Venusian.


Some readers might also make another association when hearing the name Val Thor, as I suddenly did while I was writing this. There is a well known ski resort in the French Alps known as Val Thorens. It is quite a famous destination for young Danes and other Northern Europeans. In this case "Val" derives from the french "Vallée" (meaning "valley" - although it might also make you think of a certain French ufologist). So, one could also argue that Val Thorens might just as well have been the inspiration for the name Valiant Thor. The probem with that, though, is that Val Thorens didn't come into existence until the late 1960's. So if anything, Valiant Thor was the inspiration for Val Thorens, not the other way around. But what are the chances of that.


External sources:

Stranges, Frank E.: Flying Saucerama (1959)
Stranges, Frank E.: My Friend From Beyond Earth (1960)
Stranges, Frank E.: Stranger at the Pentagon (1967)
UFO's Uncensored, vol.1 no.1 (1966)

Special thanks to Ole Henningsen for sharing rare material by, as well as personal experiences about, Frank E. Stranges.

Monday, June 30, 2014

Articles in Phenomena Magazine

Although I plan on using this blog for most of my personal research/writing, I want to occasionally pursue other outlets as well, for several reasons. One reason is because I sometimes write articles that seem better suited for a magazine than a blog post. Also, it is a good opportunity to connect with new readers, who might not have discovered my relatively obscure blog yet (or, let's face it, maybe never would otherwise).

The June 2014 issue of Phenomena features two articles by me, that were written specifically for the magazine. One is about the classic Danish Poltergeist/Possession case known as "Køge Huskors". The story is well known in Denmark, but the literature in English about it is limited. I felt that this case deserved a larger readership and more "official" recording into the "paranormal community". The other article is about a personal UFO experience I had back in 2006 in Wales, which is connected to one of my previous posts.


Well, enough about that. The issue with the mentioned articles can be found here, and in a few weeks time it will be accessible through the Phenomena site archive.

Many thanks to Steve Mera for featuring both articles. I hope we can do it again.



Saturday, June 14, 2014

UBO's (Unidentified Box-like Objects) - Part 1



As those who study a sufficiently large amount of UFO reports will eventually realize, a handful of well-defined themes and elements tend to stand out and keep recurring. What is frustrating, is that they often do so in (what at least seems like) a random and nonsensical manner. This is most obvious when comparing earlier ”landing” type cases, before abductions began to dominate the picture. It almost seems like variations of a sci-fi themed theatre play was being acted out again and again, with the help of involuntary bystanders. 

One of the recurring "props" that have fascinated me the most, for some reason, have been the strange boxes employed in one way or another by UFO occupants, particularly in CE3 (close encounters of the third kind) reports. I have long been curious about how this particular element has ”spread” over time, across the world. Are there perhaps some genuine patterns to be found here? Consider this the first in a series of articles, where i attempt to answer that question.

While several CE3 cases share similar traits, boxes aren't nearly as common an element as, say, the taking of ground samples, or the paralysis of witnesses (strange boxes have appeared in both these kinds of scenarios as well, though), but there are several interesting ”box cases” that go way back. Furthermore, many classic and high-profile UFO cases turns out to involve boxes, when you look a little closer at them. For example, a ”black box” is said to have been recovered among the Roswell debris in 1947, and two large, cube-shaped objects were supposedly found somewhere within the Tunguska impact area in 2004 (interpreted by some Russian ufologists to be leftovers from a crash between a UFO and a comet).

I will get around to covering these types of cases too, eventually. But this first post will focus mainly on box-like devices in connection with UFO occupants.


Approach


My main point of departure has been Albert Rosales' extensive catalogue of Human Sighting Reports, but I have expanded with many additional sources. In searching through Albert's reports, I looked for the recurrence of the words ”box” and ”cube” in every .pdf file. This has taken a lot of time - both to read through, but also to sort into a meaningful narrative for analysis. Consequently, a lot has been filtered out.

For example, there are many reports involving ”boxes” which, on closer inspection, appear more like astronaut or diving gear, or are stated explicitly as being more like large containers on board flying saucers, used in the collection of samples...and so on. Also, there were quite a few that involved box or cube-shaped craft, especially from the 1990's onward. I decided to discard most of these, and focus mainly on those reports that involve boxes with (seemingly) superior technological or magical/supernatural qualities.


The Earliest Reports


The earliest examples I could find of humanoid encounter cases involving boxes, are the Japanese Utsuro Bune stories from the early 1800's. These stories have been interpreted as spaceship visitations by some ufologists, but Japanese scholars have pointed out that they are actually a continuation of earlier, local legends. There are certain features that are reminiscent of mermaid encounters as well.

A more precise date of the first of these alleged encounters, the 22nd of February 1803, is mentioned in Jenny Randles' Abduction. On this day, a group of Japanese fishermen from the Hitachi province found a drifting vessel, which they proceeded to tow back to land. This particular ”ship” had a shape reminiscent of a Japanese incense burner. In some drawings it looks very much like the UFO that Travis Walton encountered. In later variants of the story, the ship is described as looking more like a ”kama” cooking pot - an object that actually looks more like your standard flying saucer.


Various Utsuro-Bune drawings.

The following details are more or less the same across all of the known reports: The ship is partially transparent, and, looking inside, the fishermen see various strange symbols and writings on the walls. Inside they also discover a very short (1.5 meters tall), young woman with red hair and pink skin, dressed in strange garbs. The woman speaks in a language unknown to the fishermen and is carrying a 1 meter long square box. She is described as friendly, but clutching the box to her intensely at all times. No matter what the fishermen do, they are never allowed to look inside, or even come near it. Check the video clip below for more.




The next account I found going through Albert's files, is from 1851, and of the bedroom visitation type. It seems to have been discovered fairly recently, among miscellaneous writings from the early American spiritualist movement. Essentially, it reads like an instance of sleep paralysis, where a group of entities in ”ancient clothing” were seen hovering over the immobilized victim, who relates:

”[O]ne of them had what appeared to be a box about eighteen inches square, and some nine inches high: it seemed to contain electrical apparatus. They placed the box on the table, and then electrical emanations like currents of light of different colors, were seen issuing from the box.”

The figures proceeded to place a pen on top of the box, which went on an automated writing spree (in a language that later turned out to be a form of Hebrew). Concerning the ”ancient clothing”, this site alludes to the possibility that it might be cowls or tunics. This is interesting, as it appears a lot in later box cases.

The next report takes us back to Japan, some time during the summer of 1926. A two-year old boy named Warabe, who had several prior contacts, was telepathically summoned outside one night, by a young man with long golden hair. Over the following years the boy was given many gifts by this man (who he came to call ”Uncle”). Among the gifts was a metallic box with some curious carvings of a triangle/pyramid on top and snakes on the sides.

8 years later, in Mayaguez, Puerto Rico, a young man named Juan Rivera Felliberti was flying his kite one morning, when he was suddenly interrupted by a 20 ft spherical, silvery object in the sky. The ”craft” snatched his kite and subsequently beamed him up. Inside, he encountered a male and a female humanoid. The male wore a tight-fitting green outfit, and the female, who was holding his kite, was described as pink-skinned with platinum blonde hair, wearing a silvery suit. She looked no more more than six years old. Juan asked for his kite back, but she refused. Instead she proceeded to show him a box which emitted various images. After this, he was shown yet another, smaller box, which he was encouraged to play with. The woman pressed a button on this 20x20x20 cm cube-shaped box, and smoke came swirling out, transforming into several small ”monkey-like” creatures.

Juan traded the box for his kite and kept it for many years, entertaining several of his friends with the ”monkey trick”. He later buried the box because he had trouble controlling the creatures, which would always escape from him after having manifested. They allegedly caused serious mischief around Puerto Rico, and were even rumored to have been involved in a series of deaths. Juan felt that some of them were still alive and roaming the countryside many years later.


The Finnish Connection


Finnish ufologist Heikki Virtanen reports an encounter from 1939 in Saarijärvi, Finland, that took place the day before the great Winter War with Russia began. A 14 year old boy, Arvo, was collecting firewood in the forest together with his father, when he saw something curious in the distance. At first he assumed that it was a moonshine factory, and since he had never seen one of these before, he went in for a closer look. It turned out to be something quite different: an object shaped like a kettle at the bottom and narrowing at the top. From the bottom, flames of different colours shot out. Outside the object, a 1.60 meter tall human-like entity in (what must later have been interpreted as) an astronaut-style suit, was standing. It had a box in its hands, which it seemed to be directing a couple of nearby robots. 

Certain parts of the above may sound familiar, and there is a good reason why. The 1970 Imjärvi encounter is one of the most memorable and recognizable in UFO history - especially because of the illustrations that have accompanied it whenever it has been featured. Both cases share many of the same details.


Well-known illustration of the Imjärvi CE3.

Looking at the details of the case as they emerged in the pages of Flying Saucer Review (beginning with issue 3, 1970), however, it becomes clear that the story was compartmentalized - although perhaps not conciously. Initially, the related encounter only described what could "simply" be an exotic weather phenomenon. It then developed into also including an ”object” similar to an ”Adamski” saucer (in issue 4, 1970). Finally, in the following issue, the now legendary humanoid was revealed. There are also some discrepancies between Heinonen and Viljo's statements, although this can be due to gradually recovered memories. I won't go any further into that matter. Just consider it as a disclaimer from which you can draw your own conclusions. 

The story, as it was eventually recalled, is more or less as follows:

On January 7th,, 1970, Aarno Heinonen and Esko Viljo, both in their 30's at the time, were out skiing. At some point they heard a buzzing noise and saw a light coming at them from the same direction. The light came gradually closer, and then a reddish-gray colored mist appeared around it. From this mist emerged a disc-shaped metallic object, about 10 feet in diameter, which descended until it was 10-12 feet off the ground. Heinonen described it as being so close that he could touch it with his ski staff. Then, suddenly, a light shot out from the bottom of the disc, accompanied by sparks and flames, illuminating a small area on the ground in front of them. Then followed another swirl of reddish-gray mist.

When this had disappeared once more, they saw a 3ft tall entity standing in front of them, dressed in a light green coverall, dark green boots, white elbow-length gauntlets and a conically-shaped helmet. It's skin was pale, as if made of wax, and it had a strange, hooked nose. In its hand it was carrying a black box with a yellow pulsating light, which it pointed towards Heinonen. Shortly after, it disappeared again, and so did the flying disc. Both men were left with serious physiological side effects, but Heinonen developed the most serious symptoms. They also both had a series of further ”supernatural” experiences. Heino claimed many later UFO-sightings, two encounters with a female spacewoman (who summoned him to a secluded area via telepathy), and on top of this developed psychic abilities in the wake of the initial experience.


Sketch of the Imjärvi humanoid's face, and it's mysterious box.

That Heinonen and Viljo saw something, seems to be confirmed by the fact that there were other witnesses in the area who saw a strange light in the sky at the same time. But even more interesting is the fact that an encounter took place about 100 meters from there, less than a year before. In February of 1969, Matti Kontulainen (16 years old at the time) was skiing through the forest at night, when suddenly an intensely bright light flew by, just above treetop level. He decribed it looking like ”a huge welding flame”. So, in the three Finnish reports above, we also have the curious occurence of strange flames – not the most common element found in UFO reports of this kind.

It might also be of interest, that a legendary Finnish nightclub, The Funky Maruschka, opened close to Imjärvi a few years later. At least one person i know, who visited the club as a young man, has expressed the opinion that this is probably not a coincidence.


Variations on a Theme


That the Imjärvi case came to be one of the most famous in ufology has, as with so many other things in life, a lot to do with both circumstance and timing. There are many other cases like it that raise just as many eyebrows and questions (as Albert Rosales' files shows countless examples of), but which, for some reason or another, wasn't explored in more detail at the time. When backtracking a bit, it becomes clear that even the basic ”formula” for the Imjärvi encounter had already been tried and tested quite a few times by 1970. There is even a lesser known Finnish incident from 1965, which happened about 100 km from where Heinonen and Viljo had their encounter. This case almost seems like a mix between the Imjärvi encounter and the 1939 Saarijärvi case, mentioned earlier:

On August 19th of that year, a father and his son - Matti and Teuvo Kuningas – strayed away from the rest of their family (the mother and younger brother), while out picking blueberries. Suddenly, they saw what looked like a giant stone about 30 meters away inside the forest. On further inspection, they encountered a 1 meter tall, broad-shouldered entity, with skin the colour of a carrot and wearing a green overall. It had a box-like device on it's chest, from which came some kind of a flashing light. The entity made a number of strange sounds and movements before it disappeared. They both experienced missing time and memory loss, but after about six months Teuvo remembered the above details and related it to his younger brother, Tapani. The father also recalled many of the details later on. Tapani Kuningas, by the way, later became one of Finlands most active ufologists.

I have already started to draw attention to the shared details of these cases, but even more will become obvious later on. I also plan on making a seperate post exclusively about mythological and fairy-tale precursors, but i should mention in passing that i have looked into the tradition of Finnish folklore and fairytales, for potential sources of influence. I was not able to find any particularly affinity for stories about mysterious boxes, although there is indeed a tradition of magic objects, such as purses that supply an endless amount of riches, magic handkerchiefs, etc. I did find mention of a ”magic tinderbox”, but nothing that really matches the box of the Imjärvi entity.




Sources:

Albert Rosales Humanoid Catalogue at http://www.ufoinfo.com/humanoid/
Flying Saucer Review

UFO-Nyt (Denmark)

Apo, Satu: The Narrative World of Finnish Fairy Tales: Structure, Agency and Evaluation in Southwest Finnish Folk Tales (FFC no:256, 1995)

Carey, Thomas J. & Schmitt, Donald R.: Witness to Roswell (2009)


And others...