Category: A Bigfoot Post? Really?

“Boys, I slipped in poop!  Bigfoot poop!” – Trailer Park Boys

Bigfoot saw me today.  I bet nobody believes him.

Last week I was about 75% done with the writing of a new post.  It was about 1am, which was a bit late, but not horribly so.  From where I was, I was an hour of edits, an hour of memes, and then a final hour of edits from being done.  4am?  Not so bad.  Sleep is for the weak, and it’s no substitute for caffeine.  I even made a really funny meme that fit with the post complete for the main meme:

See, genius at work!  Not pictured:  anything to do with this post.

When I type (I’m not going to be so bold as to call myself a writer), I can generally tell when and where a post is going to close when I start writing.  And this was going there, but it was . . . bleak.  And one thing I like to do on a Friday post is to end on an “up” beat.

I try to make the Monday post the heaviest in thought, the Wednesday post the heaviest in economic conditions, and however those posts end, they end.  They represent the best I can find with reality.  Am I always right?  No.  But I’m not going to look at the Senile Senator from Scranton and pretend he’s a leader or even anything more than a drooling moron with only the slightest bit of consciousness rattling around in the dim memories that he has left between pudding pops and wondering why Bob Barker isn’t on The Price is Right®.

Joe Biden:  “The doctor told me I have dementia and the economy sucks.  But at least I don’t have dementia.”

But Fridays are different.  I like ending the week on high note.  That wasn’t the post.  I might rework it, or not.  I have plenty of stuff to write about as the universe keeps following the modestly-named Wilder’s Principle Of Greatest Amusement (short explanation:  if there are two possibilities of an event happening, the most silly one will occur, which explains Trump, Biden, and Elvis dying on a toilet).

Because of all that, I’m switching gears wildly this Friday.  My story starts when I was but a wee Wilder living on Wilder Mountain in the deep woods, 45 miles from the nearest movie theater, a place so remote that we would beg strangers for news of the outside, and we would woo our women with chocolates and nylons from the Red Cross packages that were airdropped occasionally.

One thing Ma Wilder always indulged me on was books.  I had to use my allowance on the models.  Since there were no other kids around, I surrounded myself with things I made.  I slept under them:  a fleet of two Constitution Class Heavy Cruisers (NCC 1701 was one) facing down the improbable alliance of a Romulan™ Bird of Prey and a Klingon D-7, both flanked by Phantom F-4s (for whatever reason painted glossy silver – seemed like a good idea at the time) along with the Battlestar Galactica™ headed straight for a Cylon Basestar© which was improbably flanked by both a Sopwith Camel and a red Fokker triplane.  I was especially proud of the Galactica®, since I had (by that time) figured out how to put realistic charred areas for battle damage along with about 100 pieces of glow-in-the-dark tape, so when I turned out the lights it looked like all those windows were shining light into the dark, asbestos-laden ceiling of my bedroom.

I confused model glue with a tube of Preparation H®.  At least my model never itched.

Those I had to pay for.  But he books?

Nope.  Ma Wilder indulged me on those, and never questioned a single one, as long as I read them.

I have no idea if I had to choose to spend my hard-earned allowance on magazines – I simply can’t remember.  But I do know that they didn’t blink at those, either.  So, I had in my possession a copy of UFO Magazine™.  I have no idea of that was the exact title, but it was close enough.

In this particular magazine, there was the scariest story I had ever read.  The idea of the story was that bigfoot wasn’t a creature that was normal, like a bear or a coyote.  We had bear and coyote and mountain cats on Wilder Mountain.  Those weren’t horribly scary.

According to this magazine, bigfoot was, instead, a phenomenon that was entirely alien in nature.  It was controlled by either the critters that ran the UFOs, or it was a trans-dimensional being that exhibited supernatural powers.  It didn’t matter which, since both of those types were dangerous and psychic.  What would it do to me?  Hell, I had no idea.  But it was an evil alien psychic bigfoot.  Isn’t that enough???

I went to a psychic’s house and knocked on the door.  She asked, “Who’s there?” so I left.

I had a view of the edge of the forest, as it the ridge due north of my bedroom reached for the peak of the mesa to the back of my house.  Of course, as a third grader, I’m certain that I saw a pair of glowing red eyes from ridge a quarter mile away.  Now, of course, I’d have to put on my glasses to even see the ridge, but back then I was sure I saw them.  I’m not sure how one can fall asleep while every muscle in the body is tense with fear and sweat was trickling everywhere, but I’m sure the covers over my head helped.

Thankfully, as I grew up, I came to the realization that UFOs were certainly not real.  The UFO phenomenon (and bigfoot!) gradually came to take the same place in my mind as pro wrestling.  They weren’t real, but they were certainly entertaining.

But I kept an eye to the sky.  Just in case.

I’ve been watching the news stories, and seen the videos leaked from the Navy.  Strange.  But I really didn’t think too much more about it.  The idea that UFOs were something more than sensor glitches or advanced US tech seemed unlikely.

Weirdly, I was listening to Dr. Michio Kaku’s radio show the other day.  Sometimes (especially in the hottest weather) The Mrs. likes to listen to Fairbanks, Alaska radio, and Michio’s radio show is on Sunday afternoon.

Michio Kaku named his son “Physics” so he could be called the Father of Physics.

Michio Kaku is a theoretical physicist that has a few bestsellers, but what’s most amusing is his radio show.  The Mrs. and I pronounce his name Meee-chio, since he regularly talks about himself in the third person.  I think he should be next in line to be King of England, since he’s so good at using the Royal We already.  Regardless, Michio is amusing.

One thing he said in his radio show two weeks ago, though, got to me.  I’ll paraphrase, but I think I’ve got most of the intent, “Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence, but I think that in the case of UFOs this has shifted.  The evidence is so overwhelming that the phenomenon exists, and the burden now belongs to those who claim the phenomenon is normal to prove that.”

I was shocked.  I’d listened to him off and on for years.  Every other time, he’s mentioned aliens, the opposite has come out of his mouth.  His case now?

It’s real until someone proves it isn’t.

How do we know aliens aren’t vegan?  They haven’t contacted us to tell us.

I don’t know what’s going on.  There are multiple explanations.  Some of them are amazingly dark – several researchers into UFO phenomena have come to the conclusion that what’s going on is sinister, as in worse than psychic bigfeet.  Far worse.

But if it’s something as boring as psychic bigfeet, hidden German technology from under Antarctica, oddly humanoid aliens, or even run-of-the-mill travelers from another dimension, this will still be remembered far into the future, much farther than anything that will come out of AOC’s silly mind or Chucky Schumer’s bloated ego.

So, which would be most compatible with Wilder’s Principle of Greatest Amusement?  My money is on psychic bigfeet.  Sometimes the psychic bigfoot is confused with a sasquatch.

Yeti never complains.