The Biggest One That Got Away

Last week, video footage of the Lake Champlain sea serpent surfaced and was broadcast on national news. The video was taken by two fishermen, Peter Bodette and Dick Affolter, with their digital camera last summer. These two guys are well known and respected in the community, and they are the furthest thing from "crackpots" many skeptics will want to label them. ABC News was quick to point out these two guys aren't "crazy." I hope they checked the guys' boat for bongs or LSD.

Above is a still from the footage. It's an amazing picture. You can see it's long neck and head. In the footage, you see the thing move, come right up - just below the water's surface, and move away. Amazing!

The creature affectionaly named Champ is a long time mystery in the large New York lake. At the edge of the water, a large sign posts all the official sightings - including the witnesses' names and dates. The Champ legend began in the 1880s when P.T. Barnum offered $50,000 for the capture of Champ dead or alive. Hunters and fishermen hunted for the creature, but no one took home the reward.

The footage is pretty short, but very interesting. You can see a strange wake in the water, and something does indeed come right up to the surface near the boat. The two fishermen describe it as being a serpent for sure, and that it was pretty large and nothing like they had ever seen before in Lake Champlain. Two media experts from the FBI studied the film, and concluded it's NOT a fake. The incredible footage is HERE. YOU NEED TO SEE WHAT THESE GUYS CAPTURED ON FILM! So what did they see?

"It was as big around as my thigh," said fisherman Peter Bodette. "I'm 100 percent sure of what we saw. I'm not 100 percent sure of what it was." "It made my hair stand on end at the time," said fisherman Dick Affolter. "It just didn't fit anything — any creature I had seen."

Affolter said they never saw the entire body. "What we saw always stayed at the surface and parts of it would come above the water, like the back of the nose or the head," he said.

Lake Champlain averages more than a dozen a year sightings of Champ. "There are people who say they've seen something unusual in the lake," said Lohr McKinstry, a reporter for the Press Republican, who has been writing about Champ sightings for more than 20 years. "Some sort of unusual life that shouldn't be there in Lake Champlain. Best guess would be that it is some sort of creature that possibly should be extinct."

Champ, however, isn't the only sea monster that's captivated our imaginations:

Loch Ness Monster: This is the most well known sea creature in the world. Thousands flock to Loch Ness in Scotland, hoping to catch a glipse of Nessie. Recently, a man stumbled upon a fossil of a Plesiosaur vertebrae set in limestone. This is a significant find, since scientists believe if there is a Nessie, it might be a relative of the long-thought extenct Plesiosaur. Pictured left is a famous underwater picture taken recently. At Loch Ness, they've got live webcams set up HERE. I've checked it out, and the only creature I've seen so far was a tourist that gave the camera "the bird."

Ogopogo: Canada's Lake Okanagan is known to the locals as Ogopogo. The sightings date back to 1850 and still continue to this day. The creature is described as a large, dark colored animal with a long neck and a humped back. Ancient drawings of a sea serpent found nearby show that sightings go back even further. Pictured right is a photograph believed to be the ellusive monster. There have been several songs inspired by Ogopogo. Here's an mp3 of ONE right here by a punk band, but I warn you - the song sucks donkeyballs.

Queensland Monster: French photographer Robert Serrec was out off the coast in small row boats with his family and friends on December 12, 1964 in Queensland, Australia. They were in less than 6 feet of water when they noticed a giant snake like creature laying on the oceanbottom. They describe it as a grayish creature with a snake like head, approximately 75-80 feet long. There appeared to be a large wound on the creatures back they noticed before snapping this picture (left). Personally, I think this one's a hoax. Serrec is a Frenchman, and I know if he came upon an 80 foot sea creature, he would've made a "wee wee" in his pants and run away like a little girl.

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I wanted to find my own lake monster, so I went to a nearby park. It was a man-made lake, so my expectations were pretty low. Here are my findings:

This is the best I could do. It's no lake monster, but these things are damn mean.

It seems to be relaxing, enjoying the mild weather for late February.

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Oh crap, it frickin' spit on me! The bastard!

Can I get in trouble for kicking fowl?

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Sneak peak: Yes, dear readers, I am planning on going on another adventure very soon. My experience meeting Bob, the alien abductee, and working to unravel Earth's greatest mysteries has peaked my interest in the paranormal. My next expedition won't require me to be completely cut-off from civilization, as audioblogger gives me the chance to post while on the road. I also plan to announce what exactly I'll be doing.

I'm getting my gear ready, including my Axim X-30 with GPS adapter. I've also thought about buying a flare gun, but my better judgment had me decide otherwise. Stay tuned for my upcoming announcement!

Hi. Howdy. Whattup peeps? Like, Dude, how's it hangin'?

Thanks to Fuzz and Nowhere Girl for their inspiration for this post...

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I was born in the Bronx, NY, lived in New Jersey, then lived in Kentucky, and finally settled here in Missouri. I have visisted nearly all of the 48 mainland states of this great nation of ours, and I've met people from all over the country. One thing I have always been fascinated with is American Dialects. I consider myself to be pretty good distinguishing a person's speech pattern and guessing what part of the country they are from.

Our American Vernacular is such a strong individual characteristic - and it identifies ourselves involving geography, cultural background, economic background, level of education, and peer group. How you talk tells others who are are, or at least what you want others to think of you. Take Keith Urban, the country singer. He sings with a Southern twang...but the guy is from freaking AUSTRALIA! Why does he then create a fake accent when singing? To sell albums...to appeal to his particular group of fans. The way we talk tells people who we are.

So how many dialects are there in America? Some say 3 or 4. Others report up to 30. And yet many linguists say it's impossible to count. Here are just a few of the more well-known dialects of American English:

Southern/Country: From the Appalachinas to the Ohio River, then across Mississippi through Texas and into the great Southwest, the Southern Accent is one of the larger dialects in America. The Southern dialect is a lot of fun, in my opinion. The double modals are interesting: "I might could eat somethin'." They also have their own vocabulary like "ya'll" and "fixin'." Do Northerners think Southerns sound "uneducated?" In general, yes. But I think most people underestimate the power Southern Dialect has had on our everyday language everywhere. "Stiff upper lip" and "hot under the collar" are just two common terms Southern in origin. Here in Missouri, many of us say "warsh" instead of "wash." Southern has it's own sub-dialects such as Cajun, Texan, and Smoky Mountains. Just yell,"Get 'er done!" and you'll make friends fast in the South.

Ebonics/African-American English: The advent of hip-hop music and culture has transformed this country. It's not unusual to see white Suburbanites anywhere speaking Ebonics when out with friends. This dialect really came from a clash of cultures during the slave trade. Many linguists consider African American Vernacular as a sub-dialect of Southern Dialect. That might've been true a generation ago, but I see it almost as a hybrid between Southern and Black Urban. With the hip-hop culture gaining such a strong hold on our nation's youth, this vernacular has become much more mainstream. Within African-American English, there is the Southern influenced form, spoken by the older generation, and a Hip-Hop form which tends to use curse words consistently. Want to translate Standard English into Ebonics? Go to this Ebonics Translator. Standard English: "Good morning everyone." Ebonics: "Good morning brothas, peep dis shit."

Californian/Mallspeak: This is both the most fun, yet most annoying dialects. Mainstream media such as music, movies, and television have such a profound effect on our speech. California, the home of Hollywood, has been an incredible influence among the younger set of America for decades. It began with Valley Girl and Surfer Dude back in the 80s, "Like totally...gag me with a spoon." Continued into the 90s with movies like Clueless, "As if!" And continues to influence teenagers and now 20-somethings' speech patterns. Listen to anyone under the age of 30 speak. How many times will they say "like" or "you know." In fact, linguists say "like" is the new "ummmm." They throw in a "like" during pauses while speaking. The word "dude" is common place among guys under 35. "My friend, like, was home...and like, was watching this show. And the dude was like, freaking out...like totally screaming when the guy, like, came out from behind the door."

Northeastern Dialect: You talk about spin-offs. With Northeastern you got New York City, Pittsburghese, English/Yiddish, Philly-speak, Bostonian, and everything in between! If we can accuse a Southern of talking too slow, then I think it's fair game to say many Northeasterners speak too damn fast, almost eating their words. Out of all these, I find the Philly-speak the strangest. You'll find people from Southern Jersey and Delaware also speaking Philly-speak. It's almost a hybrid of regular Northeastern, with some Southern. In Philly, a "baby stroller" is called a "baby coach." You don't walk on a "sidewalk," you walk on the "pavement." New York City is fun too. You got your typical wiseguy, "Fuhgeddaboutit." And "coffee" is prounounced "cawfee." In New York, a sandwich is a "hero," but in Philly it's a "hoagie." I often find myself doing the Yiddish/Northeastern: "Oye Vey!"

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There exists a Standard English. It's considered an accent-free dialect often used by journalists. Some people believe we are losing our regional dialects...that Standard is taking over. I disagree. Do we really want Americans to all sound the same? Not me.

Many of us are able to go from our own regional dialect to Standard - especially in a professional setting. I've witnessed a black person speak Ebonics when they are around other black people, and then go to Standard when at a business meeting, for example. Regional dialect is what gives people their character and shows off a person's 'local color.' Be proud of it! If we all spoke the same way, I think it'd get boring really fast. So what if I call it "soda" and you call it "pop." Although we could both laugh at the person that calls all softdrinks "Coke."

We are a diverse nation, and our own dialect is celebration of that diversity. It's what makes this country so great, or:

Narley. Bad-ass. Smooth. Tight. Uber. Fly. Da Bomb Fo Shizzle. Gooder than grits.

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American Dialect Quiz: See how good YOU are at figuring out where each sample of speech is from. This is NOT easy, and I got only 5 right.

Fun American Dialect Quiz: Amazing accurate quiz you can take in just a couple minutes. It breaks down the different dialects you speak. Thanks to Nowhere Girl for this!

National Map of American Dialects: Interesting scholarly project, mapping the different dialects in this country.

"Here Comes Peter Cotton Tail, Leaving Behind A Blood-Soaked Trail"

There has been speculation in the scientific community that Saddam Hussein had been experimenting with "alternative" Weapons of Mass Destruction prior to the war. When we invaded Iraq, our forces were naturally searching for the standard types of such weapons such as SCUD missiles, mustard gas, anthrax labs, etc.

But Saddam was smarter than we thought, and his henchmen had created a new weapon against those whom stood in his way: genetically engineered killer rabbits. Iraqi madmen created a whole new species of bunnies - bunnies with big teeth, the ability to leap great distances, and bunnies with a thirst for blood. You bend over to pet a furry, cute little cotton tail. And the next thing you know, Thumper flashes its long razor teeth and clamps down on your jugular!

To quote Tim The Enchanter from Monty Python's Holy Grail, such a rabbit would be "the most foul, cruel, and bad-tempered rodent you ever set eyes on!"

Run away...run away indeed.

Is it possible after the collapse of Saddam's stronghold on Iraq that some of these killer bunnies might have escaped? Could these killer rabbits be roaming the Middle East or even the forests of Europe?

How about Norway?

It's reported such a bunny recently attacked a dogsled team in Norway. Wenche Offerdal, a well-known dogsled driver witnessed firsthand the visciousness of this wild beast. She told the Norwegian newspaper Nordlys that she and her team of huskies met the "aggressive" bunny in Troms County.

Offerdal said, "It was sitting 10 metres from the trail and I figured it would run off, and even that the dogs would go after it," Offerdal said. "I was wrong."

Instead, the fearless bunny ran straight for the dogsled team, and leapt right into the middle of the dogs. "It was an absurd situation," Offerdal told Nordlys. "The dogs were completely perplexed. The hare stared at them and they stared back, like they were all frozen." This monstrous rabbit was facing off against 13 sled pulling dogs surrounding it!

Suddenly the wascally wabbit jumped out of the ring of huskies, actually hitting a few of the dogs on their noses with its paws while airborn. Sounds like this bunny had acquired Ninja-like skills as well.

"It was an enormous leap, the hare landed outside the ring of dogs and ran off into the woods," Offerdal said.

Hopefully, these powerful and deadly bunnies borne from a crazed dictator don't make their way to America. The fear is how fast rabbits procreate, and we could have an entire colony of blood-thirsty rabbits on our hands. If so, we have no other choice but to call upon the original Rabbit Exterminator to rid the world of these Hop-Along-Freaks-of-Nature:

"Get the wabbit...get the wabbit...get the wabbit...get-the-wabbit"

Mike, The Headless Chicken

This is my 100th post...and Angel Jr. is my 30,000th hit. Thanks so much!

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Class, settle down now please. I want to take the last 15 minutes of class to talk about some interesting history - science history. Jim, could you remove your sunglasses? And Ben, please put away your ipod. Thank you.

I want to tell you a story about a very strange chicken named Mike. You see, Mike was a chicken that lived for 18 months without a head.

(Students gasp and whisper amongst themselves).

That's right, his owner chopped off his head...and the chicken survived. Here's how it all began:

On September 10, 1945, Lloyd Olsen picked out a younger but plump rooster out of his chicken coup in Fruita, Colorado. His wife, Clara was going to prepare a wonderful feast - as Lloyd's mother in law was going to be visiting. Lloyed brought his ax down on the chicken's neck, and the poor thing struggled and did all the normal things a chicken would do after having it's head chopped off.

The term "running around like a chicken with it's head cut off" is a pretty well known saying. And I'm sure little 5 1/2 month old Mike was doing his share of shaking and staggering. The next few moments would prove to be the strangest most bizzare thing to ever happen in the world of chicken slaughtering.

The bird would not die.

With his head laying on the ground, the rest of Mike walked around quite normally. He flapped his little wings, and probably walked right into the side of the barn. But the darn chicken had survived. I can only imagine the shock Lloyd and Clara experienced. Lloyd decided to leave the chicken alone. Maybe it was the inner scientist in him that wondered, "How long can this chicken live without it's head?"

The next morning, Mike was quite alive. This was a special chicken indeed, and Lloyd devised a method of feeding this headless chicken. He used an eye dropper to feed it water and ground up grain. Lloyd dropped the 'food' right down Mike's esophogus. Sounds strange, but the method worked. Mike continued to thrive.

Mike was able to balance himself on perches without falling. If you can imagine, he was even able to crow - creating a gurgling sound made in his throat. Mike even tried to preen his feathers with his nonexistent head. That's sort of like combing your hair even though you're bald. Pretty useless. Mike acted just as any other chicken would, except for the fact that the bird was headless.

Lloyd brought Mike to a promoter, and soon "Miracle Mike" toured the West Coast. Mike was even featured in Life magazine. At his pinnacle of fame, the chicken was bringing in $4500 per month. Back in the 40s, this was really a ton of money. Mike was estimated to be worth $10,000 and was actually insured for that amount. The sideshows consisted of bringing Mike out to greet the paying customers, and they got to see his head pickled in a jar. Actually, a cat ate Mike's original head, so Lloyd sacrificed another not-so-lucky chicken in order to show the amazed audience.

With fame comes...copycats. In this case, copychickens. Farmers attempted to cut the heads of their chickens in an effort to recreate Mike's Magic. One rooster, Lucky, actually survived for 11 days. Lucky wasn't too lucky, for it died when it was running and slammed into a stove pipe.

Mike did have one major complication. He often choked on his own mucus. Aren't you all glad you have my class just before lunch??? Lloyd and Clara had to use a syringe to suck it out. Otherwise, Mike would die. One evening, the Olsens were at a motel in Phoenix. Mike began to choke on his mucus. They searched in vain for the syringe until they realized that they had left it at the sideshow from the previous day. Sadly, Mike died that night.

So how did Mike survive his own beheading?

Scientists examined Mike and determined that Lloyd had in fact chopped Mike's head off 18 months prior. Most of the head was actually removed, but one ear remained intact. Lloyd's ax actually missed the jugular vein and a clot prevented him from bleeding to death. Most of a chicken's reflex actions are located in the brain stem, which was also unharmed.

Shouldn't Mike have been put out of his misery though? Mike was also examined by the officers of several humane societies and was declared to have been free from suffering. When Lloyd chopped the chicken's head off, Mike was only 2 1/2 lbs. When he died, Miracle Mike was a robust 8 lbs. Had the Olsens been able to syphon Mike's mucus that fateful night in March of 1947, who knows how long Mike would've survived without his head. His 18 months is still a world record.

But don't worry, Mike's legacy lives on. In his hometown of Fruita, Colorado, they hold a "Mike the Headless Chicken Festival" every spring. This year, it's going to be held on May 19th and 20th. The festival includes: a huge car show, music & entertainment, a chicken dance contest, chicken recipe contest, food and craft vendors, and a costume contest - so Kim C., you should enter. The festival also features the infamous 5K "Run Like a Headless Chicken" race.

When you have time, you can go to Mike's offical website HERE.

Don't forget about your quiz tomorrow on mammals, and...David! Mr. Amulet, please stop making fart noises with your armpit. And your research papers are due Friday.

And no, Siren, Mike the Headless Chicken will not be on your quiz tomrrow.

Class dismissed.

Mike, the Headless Chicken statue in Fruita, Colorado

The Abduction of Bob, Part III

Is Bob mentally deranged, or is he telling us a true story? Was Bob really abducted by beings from another planet?

Going over my notes and recordings, Bob's story does seem to hit many of the classic 'alien abduction' characteristics:
1) Unexplained missing time (Bob left at 1:30 AM, but returned at 6 AM)
2) UFO sighting
3) Electric or mechanical equipment failure (his truck)
4) Examination by aliens, centering around physiology and sexual organs (anal probe)
5) Reproductive procedure (Bob being tricked into impregnating whom he thought was Pamela Anderson)

In a Psychology Today recent poll, as many as 3 million Americans believe they have had such encounters with aliens. So are all of these people, including Bob, psychotic?

I really don't know. Regardless of whether or not Bob was abudcted by aliens, the experience has changed him for life. He is afraid to drive alone on a road he has traveled for over 30 years, he cannot sleep, and he stocks boxes and boxes of Preparation-H. When Baywatch comes on, the man shrieks like a girl and hides behind his sofa (I have that same reaction when watching David Hasselhoff sing).

Here are some pictures I took while on my trip:

This is pretty much all I saw while on the road for hours to Bob's location. Highway Hypnosis is quite a real phenomenon.

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Here is the Slurpee I bought on the road. It was yummy. Damn that brainfreeze.

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Bob took me to the site of his alien encounter. Here he is standing by the field where he estimates the triangular UFO hovered over. I didn't notice it at first, but there is something in the background of this photo. I didn't want Bob to panic, so I didn't tell him a UFO was flying up in the sky behind him. Was that evil of me?

Don't turn around, Bob, don't turn around!

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Bob made three drawings for me. Here's two of them. The top one is of an alien face and the probe "The Doctor" used on him. The bottom one is...well, just look for yourself.

I don't know how much of the 3 feet went into Bob's anus, and I did not want to know. Notice the semi-anatomical correctness of the "Pamela Anderson" alien in the second picture.

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I found this in Bob's garage. I don't think it's just a fern. Hmmmm...

This might explain a lot.

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Here's the interior of Bob's old truck. It smelled of rotten bananas just like he said. No signs of any "wacky tabbacky" or hookah.

He needs one of those Yankee Candle smell good thing-a-ma-bobs to hang on the rear view mirror. Either that or he needs Beano.

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After the interview, I went back to where Bob showed me he first encountered the "flying grilled cheese sandwich." When wading through the tall grass, I spotted something in the air. At first, I thought it was a helicopter or something. I snapped a few pictures, and this is the best one of the lot. Is this the spaceship looking for more human subjects?

I think it's the same UFO I caught on camera when Bob was posing for me earlier in the day. It reminds me of Space Ghost's ship, "The Phantom Cruiser."

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I drove into town and had lunch. During the three mile drive, I noticed this blue sedan following me. I had first noticed this car near Bob's house when I first arrived. They followed me to the diner and just sat there. They eventually got out and went to an antique store a couple buildings away. I ran out and snapped this picture. Who are these guys?

Either they are the notorious Men in Black, or they're just "life partners" going antiquing. Am I getting paranoid?

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After lunch, I decided to go back once again to the spot Bob saw the UFO and where I had just taken a pic of one myself an hour ago. I saw the blue sedan on the shoulder, so I parked far away and went on foot. Hiding behind a grassy knoll, I was able to snap a couple shots of the guys doing their own investigation.

At this point I'm very sure they're government Men in Black doing their own investigation. Very spooky.

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Maybe 10 minutes passed, and the MIB were still examining the area when I heard the sounds of jets overhead. They were flying low and at incredible speeds. The two MIB were also looking up, and one of them was talking into a cell phone. The two jets weren't just doing any sort of patrol - they were trying to intercept something. I took a few pictures, hoping to catch what they were chasing.

You think they were trying to intercept the UFO I had seen twice that day already???

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This was a very fascinating experience, and although I'm still on the fence about Bob and his story...something strange is definitely going on over there. Bob has only told a handful of his friends about his experience, and I am grateful to have been able to share with you his story.

Bob, my thanks to you, and I wish you the very best. And I'm serious about the Beano.

The Abudction of Bob, Part II

This is the continuation of my interview with Bob, a real-life alien abductee. The first part of his story is posted below, in case you missed it. He was telling me how he was laying on a table, a little being then begins to molest his private parts, and the tall alien called "The Doctor" is preparing to examine him...

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Bob: “The Doctor” takes out this long tool, with a glowin’ ball at the end of it. He tells me to relax.

Phoenix: Were you relaxed?

Bob: Hell no! Some little alien is playin’ with my shrunk John, and now he’s gonna stick that glowin’ ball thing up my ass.

Phoenix: How did you know he was going to do that?

Bob: Because them little aliens moved me onto my stomach. I didn’t think that little glowin’ ball was gonna massage my sore back or somethin’ like that. I wanted to jump up and run, but I couldn’t. That’s when I started to scream.

Phoenix: How did they react to your screaming?

Bob: They didn’t care. “The Doctor” shoves that ball thing up my ass, and man…it’s really hot. I could feel my ass hairs being burnt off. And this weird warmin’ sensation starts fillin’ up my crotch.

Phoenix: Dear God, maybe I don’t want to hear this.

Bob: So they’re done with that, flip me back over. And I’m alone in the room.

Phoenix: So you’re alone, on the table still…

Bob: Right. My ass hurts, my crotch is on fire. But I still can’t move. I closed my eyes, tryin’ to move my legs. It was no use. When I opened my eyes, this hot blond chick is standin’ over me.

Phoenix: A hot chick?

Bob: She was damn hot, like Pamela Anderson. She’s upside down to me, but I know she was good lookin.’ At that instant, I could finally move my body.

Phoenix: So you jumped up and ran?

Bob: No way. This lady was nekkid! She didn’t talk neither, but I could hear her in my head tellin’ me I was cute and that she wanted me. The burnin’ in my crotch was still there, but I wasn’t shriveled no more. In fact, I was ready to go.

Phoenix: Ready to go? As in Viagra ready to go?

Bob: Hell yes. So she gets on the table, and I…

Phoenix: Bob, you really don’t have to tell me everything here.

Bob: Oh…no problem. I just did what any hot-blooded American man would do. And she seemed really happy afterwards.

Phoenix: That’s good to hear.

Bob: No, it wasn’t good at all.

Phoenix: What do you mean?

Bob: Suddenly, she’s not Pamela Anderson anymore. She’s an alien. After I realized I had just had sex with a damn alien, I almost threw up. In fact I did a little, but swallowed it. I started to back away.

Phoenix: What did the alien do?

Bob: She pointed to her belly. I knew right away what she meant.

Phoenix: She? How do you know she’s a she?

Bob: Because she was tellin’ me that she was knocked up. Only fe-males have babies.

Phoenix: Maybe aliens are both male and female. Maybe men have babies on their world. Many UFO-ologists believe aliens are asexual…maybe hermaphrodites.

Bob: A what-o-dite? You think aliens are Jewish?

Phoenix: You know, just forget I mentioned anything about it. It’s ok. (Pause) Then what happened?

Bob: I started to run, but I lost control of my body and passed out. Next thing I know I’m back in my truck, clothes on and everything.

Phoenix: I’m glad you’re safe now.

Bob: (Wipes his brow) Man, I thought the alien was Pamela Anderson. I feel sick just thinking about it. And that thing they shoved up my ass, what was that thing? The whole thing is just plain embarassin’ and shameful.

Phoenix: It’s ok. How could you have known? You were tricked. It’s not your fault.

Bob: I’m confused. Thing is, it was the best sex in my life!

Phoenix: The anal probe or the alien-Pamela Anderson encounter? (Bob pauses to think). You know Bob, on second thought, please don’t answer that.

Bob: I need a drink. I’m not feelin’ so hot.

Phoenix: I do understand why you want to keep your identity a secret, though. The world will appreciate what you’ve gone through when they learn about your experience. I’m honored to tell your story, and I promise to protect your privacy.

Bob: Yeah, yeah, sure. I’m feelin’ faint, man. (Gets up and starts opening kitchen drawers). I know I left the Wild Turkey next to the shotgun shells here.

Phoenix: I’m good here, I think I got all that I need. It’s a fascinating story and the people deserve the truth, you know. Thanks Bob, the truth-seekers out there thank you too.

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Part Three, The Abduction of Bob: The astonishing evidence (including my own UFO sighting and run-in with real the real Men in Black)

The Abduction of Bob

One of the most profound questions mankind has been asking is, “Are we alone?” There are people that believe not only are we not alone, but testify to have been in the presence of beings from another world.

I had the opportunity to meet and interview such a person. I spent two days talking with him and having “Bob” show me physical evidence left behind from his encounter. I am not allowed to divulge his true identity, nor his residence. He requested I keep them secret. Bob lives in a rural small town and would rather his neighbors not know his story. Bob originally was a skeptic and never believed in “that UFO crap.” But one night, while driving back from a late night game of cards, his life changed forever.

For the first 60 minutes, he talked about himself and eventually got comfortable enough to tell me his story. I will begin with the initial sighting for length’s sake. Here is the remainder of the interview, transcribed from an audio tape:

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Phoenix: So you were driving back from your friend’s house?

Bob: That’s right. We had played Texas Hold ‘Em for a few hours, and I guess it was around 1:30 that morning. I wasn’t in any hurry, knowing my wife was goin’ to kick my ass once she found out I lost the money for her hair appointment to bleach her roots.

Phoenix: Where there any other cars out?

Bob: Nope, not a-one. I had to turn on my brights to see. Gotta be careful. Lots of cows get out and you don’t wanna hit ‘em. I saw something out of the corner of my eye…I thought it was a low flying aero-plane or somethin’. I decided to stop, since not many planes fly over our town.

Phoenix: Did it make a sound?

Bob: My truck’s motor is pretty loud, so I didn’t hear nothin’ from it. I thought it was a plane, until I got a real good look at it. It was shaped like a grilled cheese sandwich, sliced in half.

Phoenix: Cut in half how?

Bob: What do you mean how? Cut in half. Right down the middle.

Phoenix: (I drew a diagram of a grilled cheese sandwich, and showed him the two ways you could cut it in half. You could cut it directly in the middle, resulting in two rectangular halves, or you could do it diagonally).

Bob: Like that (pointing to the diagonal ones).

Phoenix: It was triangular. Like a triangle. (Bob's actual drawing is pictured to the right).

Bob: Right, like a triangle. Underneath were these four of five bright lights, and where the cheese would be were long strips of white lights too. It didn’t make no sound at all. My motor died, and I tried to start it up. I didn’t want anythin’ to do with this flyin’ grilled cheese. I wanted to get the hell outta there. But my truck wouldn’t start.

Phoenix: What was the object doing while you tried to start your car?

Bob: It started to sway back and forth…and soon it was floatin’ directly over me. I looked up and saw that the belly of this thing was a dark metal just like the rest of it. And suddenly, BLAM…it hit me.

Phoenix: The grilled cheese?

Bob: No, this blue beam came out from the ship. It went through the windshield and hit me. I couldn’t move, and I smelled somethin’ weird.

Phoenix: What did you smell?

Bob: It smelled like rotten bananas. But it could’ve been me. I had ate three of them at my friend’s house.

Phoenix: Then what happened?

Bob: I blacked out…and I woke up to find myself nekkid up against the wall.

Phoenix: Did you have any idea where you were?

Bob: I can’t explain how I knew…but I knew I was flyin.’ I knew I was inside that ship and we was flyin.’

Phoenix: Can you describe the room you were in?

Bob: It was dark gray, no furniture or nothin.’ The walls were damn cold. My ass was freezin’ up against the metal. The room itself was pretty chilly. There were no lights, but I could still see.

Phoenix: What was going through your mind at that point?

Bob: What the hell do you think? I wanted to get outta there pronto! I couldn’t move. I wasn’t handcuffed or nothin’, though. I have no idea how they got my body to stick up on the wall like Velcro. I was scared, that’s for sure, but I got even more scared when “The Doctor” showed up.

Phoenix: Describe “The Doctor.”

Bob: His head was egg shaped, and he had these big bug eyes – black as night. They looked just like them pictures of aliens that you see on the TV. No nose, little slit for a mouth. No ears. His skin was light brown. His body was really thin. He stood maybe six feet tall. Long gangly arms and legs.

Phoenix: Why do you call him “The Doctor?”

Bob: That’s what he called himself.

Phoenix: So he spoke to you?

Bob: No. He told me inside my head.

Phoenix: You mean telepathy?

Bob: Yeah, if that’s what you call talkin’ without speakin.’ He told me not to be afraid. He just wanted to do some experiments and stuff on me. His job was to learn more about humans. He told me he’s worked on at least a thousand people, and that it would all be over soon.

Phoenix: Did that make you feel any better?

Bob: Hell no. I was really scared. And suddenly, the wall became the floor…and I was like laying on a table. It was weird. Like the room changed or somethin.’ There was a bright light from the ceiling, blindin’ me. So I turned away, and I saw three or four more of them aliens, but they were shorter, smaller. They looked like little kids. One of them started playin’ with my…you know…

Phoenix: With what?

Bob: He was playing with my…um…thing.

Phoenix: The little alien was playing with your penis?

Bob: Yeah. Flickin’ it, pullin’ it. He thought it was funny.

Phoenix: Funny?

Bob: He didn’t talk neither, but I could read his mind. He thought it was funny lookin.’ I felt embarrassed. The room was real cold, and I told him with my mind that I’m not normally that shriveled up.

Phoenix: Good grief.

---

Part Two, The Abduction of Bob: Bob is probed by the aliens (and by probed, I don't mean he gets interrogated).

Phoenix Rising from the Ashes, Reborn

The season's over,

the shores are sealed.

Now ashen roses

rain on the fields.

Innocent dreamers,

look what you've done.

How it's time

for the Phoenix to fly.

--"Fantastic Dream"

Gold-Lloyd-Echolette

The Phoenix Rises Monday - February 13, 2006

So Long And Thanks For All The Fish

My fellow wannabe scientists,

It seems all bloggers come to a crossroads with their writing...and I am certainly at mine. Nothing has given me more pleasure than entertaining you and maybe giving you a little insight into the world of science. I've gotten so much from blogging these last six months, and I want to thank you.

Recently, I have come upon an opportunity to pursue something extraordinary. To do so will involve an extended absence from my home...and blogging, as I am not allowed to bring any computerized devices.

Unfortunately I cannot disclose where I'm going and what I'm doing, as I am bound to a vow of secrecy. All I can tell you is that there is some risk involved, but the adventure will be well worth it.

I don't know exactly how long I'll be gone...but I promise you, I will share my experiences with you as best I can. There are individuals that I am sure are monitoring this blog, and I just want to insure them that I will be protecting their confidentiality as I have promised. There is a story to be told, and I have been chosen to tell it.

So farewell, take care, and I hope to return as soon as possible.

The Phoenix

The Fat Rat Sees His Shadow

At 7:25 AM EST., Punxsutawny Phil, the Prognosticator of Prognosticators saw his shadow ...which means 6 more weeks of winter. Here's the groundhog's own words:

It is said that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.
Around the country there are many imitators of me.
In Harrisburg there is Gus who appears on TV working for the lottery.
Then all around town, cute groundhog statues abound. They all look like me, I found.
Today on the Knob as I'm doing my job, I don't like this likeness of me.
It's my shadow I see. Six more weeks of mild winter there will be.

No one said the fat rat was a poet.

So how did this silly celebration start? Why are 20,000 drunk Pennsylvanians clammoring for a groundhog to come out of his burrow anyway?

Groundhog Day comes from the European Christian tradition of Candlemas...the 40th day after Christmas. There's a Scottish saying, " "If Candlesmas Day is bright and clear, There'll be two winters in the year." Germans used a badger in their celebrations, and they brought their tradition to America when they settled in Punxsutawny, PA. The first official American Groundhog Day was February 2, 1887 at Gobbler's Knob. Interestingly, the celebration was closed to the public until 1966.

Those old gents that host the event are known as The Inner Circle. They're charged with taking care of the Phil the groundhog, and carry out the tradition of holding the fat rat up in the air as one of them reads Phil's poetic prediction.

Phil has predicted 6 more weeks of winter an astonishing 94% of the time since 1887. The last time Phil said there would be an early Spring was back in 1999. So is the fat rat accurate?

That depends on whom you ask. Those that believe in the groundhog say he's 100% accurate. Of course, they've downed their tenth beer by the time you get around to interviewing them after the fireworks, the music, the dancing, and finally, Phil's prediction. According to the U.S. National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, they couldn't identify any sort of predictive skill in Phil's predictions. They compared the nation's average temperatures in February and March with Phil's announcement, and couldn't find any real link between the two. The NOAA's final conclusion, Phil is no more accurate that the average weatherman.

I'm sure all those meteorologists are happy to hear that some fat rat is just about as skillful as them when it comes to predicting the weather.

Phil is so popular, he has his copycats:

General Beauregard Lee - Atlanta, Georgia
Wiarton Willie - Warton, Ontario,Canada
Sir Walter Wally - Raleigh, North Carolina
Pee Wee - Vermont
To see all the groundhogs, go HERE...it's a map showing all the different prognosticators.

But there is only ONE Punxsutawny Phil. To see the goofy 2006 celebration held this morning at Gobbler's Knob...click HERE.

Maybe Phil could predict the winner of Superbowl XL, but I think he'd be a little biased.