I have been asked to write a piece for this web site because I am a supposed to be a "level headed" UFOlogy supporter. Well, I don't know about the level headed part of it but I am a UFOlogy supporter. At least, I am a supporter of the element that treats UFOlogy with a grain of salt.

Let me begin with saying that I believe there is something unknown that is identified as UFO's. I personally have seen something that could be described as a ufo. The story of that sighting follows. Whether that was a UFO, an atmospheric anomaly, or man made will almost certainly never be determined. All I know is that it is nothing I have ever witnessed before and that it led me to explore the subject more thoroughly. In the 18 years since that sighting, I have read almost everything published on the subject and have kept up with the subject through the traditional media and through the Internet. My conclusion is that no one with the true answer (and proof) is willing to publish the answer to the phenomenon.

In April of 1979 I lived in Carlsbad New Mexico. The date was my birthday and I was driving through Happy Valley which was a valley separating the Happy Valley community from Carlsbad by a series of hills to the north and south. The truck bypass went down the middle of the valley emptying out onto the highway to the east. My business on that stretch of desolate road was in search of a party since it was my birthday. For the record, I was not drunk or on drugs, though not for the lack of effort, it was my birthday after all. As I was driving down the bypass in the wee hours of the morning. I noticed in the desert off to my left a light blue light moving slowly along the valley floor casting a blue circle on the desert floor. The light itself was perhaps 20-30 feet in diameter and maybe 75-100 feet off the ground and perhaps 200 yards away and moving towards me. My first thought was an oil field helicopter but my window was down and I was close enough to hear a helicopter. No sounds at all were coming from this object. I stopped my truck and turned across both lanes of traffic with my headlights directly towards the object. I sat and watched this thing move slowly across the desert floor. When it came directly in front of me, still a ways off, I hit my high beams. At that moment it took off straight up leaving a nasty set of tracers in my eyes. When I looked up through my windshield I could see nothing but a burned in tracer streak and stars. The tracer faded after a while and my attention was brought back by a set of headlights in the distance headed towards me. I straightened back out on the road and allowed the truck to pass while I digested what had happened.

I told a couple of people about this in the months following the sighting and got the expected results so I kept it to myself until a few years ago when I made it public on a one time posting to a FIDO group created by Glenn Joyner, Bill Ralls and myself dedicated to unbiased review of the subject. That group has since fallen off the Internet only to be replaced by one of the finest web sites I have ever visited; the one you are on now. If you are into UFOlogy, bookmark this site. If anything new or interesting happens it will be posted here. These people know everyone in he field. And you can be sure it will be treated with the utmost skeptical curiosity this subject demands. If you don't believe me, check out their coverage of the Santilli fiasco.

Now, to lighten up a bit, read on

Many on this planet believe we are being visited by a race of beings called the "Greys." One hears words like advanced, benevolent, superior and compassionate when referring to the Greys. Certain celebrities in the UFO field seem to think these beings, albeit having their own agenda, are good, pure and above the pettiness we humans seem to wallow in.

To this I say, "GIVE ME A BREAK!" Where is there any evidence that these beings, if they exist, are above us in any way other than maybe having cooler spaceships? They are obviously intelligent, and intelligence leads to some sort of societal structure. The human race is evidence enough to prove that. And in any society there is an element generically referred to as "White Trash." This element is usually the majority. Advancements in technology doesn't eliminate white trash, you just get more sophisticated white trash. One can imagine the first Neanderthal who moved into a spanking new doublewide cave looking down on his knuckle dragging predecessors because they slept in the dirt. Same probably applied when Homo arrived on the scene. Neanderthal became the white trash and so it has continued on through history.

Therefore, if the Greys are as advanced as people think, it only makes sense that they also have reached the pinnacle of white trashness. Some may say this isn't evident from the contact they've had with that small fraction of Grey society that's supposedly visiting the Earth. That argument won't hold the beer it was conceived by. I'll address this later.

First, let's hypothesize Grey society on their home planet Zeta Reticulli, using the only model of society we know as a comparison, the human race. Now, in society you have the privileged, about 2% of the population, the middle class, another 18%, the balance, 80%, is made up of what we'll call white trash. Most of the middle class and a more than a large percentage of the privileged can trace their roots back to white trash ancestors. I really don't think society can exist without white trash. Take away white trash, and the economic catastrophe resulting from the eventual crash of bingo parlors, swap meets, country and western CD anthology sales, and tube top sales would cripple the world. Yes, this is a very necessary part of society.

Let's look at the life of "Bubba Grey". His advanced society has given them the "Sport Model" flying saucer and Bubba owns three. Two are up on blocks, painted primer gray, with red tape where the navigation lights should be, and the third won't even be found until he mows his lawn. Best guess is that it's somewhere near that tall CB antenna over yonder that's a hazard to other low flying saucers. He hasn't put any of his saucers in the driveway because his bass boat hasn't left that spot for the past five years. Walking up to Bubba's front porch one sees abduction tables and machines in various states of disrepair. A sign on a post nearby reads, "Bubba's ET Examination Accessory Supply & Bait Shop." The left side of the porch collapsed some years back tragically killing five Zeta Dogs. As you approach the front door you notice the "Zeta Beer" caps hammered into the frame and curtains made out of Zeta flags covering cracked windows repaired with duct tape. "Gives the place some class," says Bubba.

Inside, Mrs. Bubba Grey leans over the spit cup on her ironing board, spits out her chaw, wipes her mouth with the back of her hand before extending it to you to shake. She's still wearing the day-glo orange vest from her day at work release, picking up trash on the intra-solar expressway. She looks over at Bubba Junior, who's reading the "Saucer Trader" with a highlight pen and picking at a scab on a fresh tattoo of Zetallica. "We got company junior, run out back and choke another chicken so's we'll have enough for dinner." Junior steps over a Zeta Dog who has apparently been on a marathon butt licking session judging by how chapped it is and by the neon red color that crayon companies would probably call "nuclear sphincter". No one seems to notice but you. She then introduces you to Mama Grey and proudly proceeds to tell you how Mama don't even take the cigarette from her mouth before telling Galactic Troopers to kiss her ass. Mama Grey peels the crime scene tape off the bathroom door, grabs a handful of leaves, a copy of the Galactic Enquirer the title of which reads, "I was abducted by Humans," and disappears behind the door. "Don't let her age fool you," says Mrs. Grey, "that old woman can climb a tree faster than the cat."

As you leave, you notice the dog-catcher outside, hunkered down beside his truck with a particle beam weapon, calling for backup. A homeless Grey strolls past, pauses, and then flips a quarter at Bubba and politely declines the donation of the old stained mattress by the curb. Bubba Grey shakes your hand telling you to come back soon. As you are pondering the various vaccinations you'll need upon your return home, Mrs. Grey hollers from the porch, "Bubba! Come get this damn anti-grav out of the tub so I can take a bath."

Not pretty, but highly plausible. And the argument that the current crop of alien visitors is a sample representation of Grey society doesn't wash. First, these are probably scientists, and scientists don't really fit in to any "class" of society except their own. And second, what makes you think these aliens are good scientists? Remember, this is the Earth and it can't be a plum assignment. We're one planet of people who can't get along, don't speak any common languages and treat our world, and the immediate space, like the city dump. Hell, we've even jettisoned Voyager into interstellar space hoping someone will happen across it in their travels. They'll probably hit it as it crosses against traffic. And just what is Voyager? A damn record player! Hell, even we don't use albums anymore. Talk about a backwater planet. Would you send your finest scientists here to study us? That would be like sending Einstein on assignment to study "Bacterial Reproduction."

No, I'd be willing to bet that Grey scientists here are the guys who managed to squeak through "Alien Cultures 101" because they paid big credits for the answers to the final exam. I picture their first assignment as a study of their own sun. They probably spent many brainstorming sessions before coming up with the plan of going at night so they'd be able to land. They probably even got halfway there before figuring the flaw in their plan. So, before you get a big head about being visited by the high and mighty Greys, think about what's written here.

Lets also look at Grey technology. There are several video tapes of alien craft accelerating extremely rapidly off into nothingness. Supporters of the advanced technology theory say this proves that the aliens have very advanced "anti gravity" or even FTL drives. We'll get to FTL in a moment but first lets look at atmospheric propulsion. Something that hasn't been explored is a more simple explanation. The "Flatulence Drive". Think about it for a minute before dismissing it outright. What on this planet escapes faster than a fart. If you have any doubts, take an 18 floor elevator ride with "the boys from accounting" after they've done lunch at "Uncle Juan's All You Can Eat Mexican Buffet." Stick with me a minute before clicking out of here. I'll put this all together in a moment.

It is also a documented fact that the Greys are rather fond of strawberry ice cream. It is also documented that they prefer to use the cover of the wee hours of the morning to abduct. What better source for abduction fodder than your local all night convenience store. Want proof? Take a good look a the clerk behind the counter on the graveyard shift. Notice the glazed look? A sure sign of missing time. Hell, there are all night convenience stores even in Moose Spit Montana. And what is the primary source of nourishment at a convenience store? Right, the burrito. I put it to you that the Greys have tapped into our over abundant source of all night stores for their subject matter. In the course of their study, they discovered that these places contain ample supplies of strawberry ice cream and even more importantly, burritos. A crew of a spaceship would be well advised to re-use any waste emanations profitably. I mean, it's kind of inconvenient to have to open a window to ventilate the craft while hauling ass at 7000 miles per hour through the sky. And a real stupid move if you are in the vacuum of space. As you'll see in the experiment below, eat a quart of strawberry ice cream and a couple of convenience store burritos and record the results yourself.

In the interest of science, I took it upon my self to conduct the experiment. I have submitted my applications for government subsidies but obviously, sensing the importance of my work, they have opted to re-review my application and it must be tied up in committee, so in the interests of time, I am financing my experiments out of my own pocket. I purchased several microwave deluxe burritos and a quart of strawberry ice cream. Nuking the burritos for the required time, I grabbed my ice cream and sat down to do some science. After recovering from second degree burns from hot burrito by washing it down with a quart of strawberry ice cream, I sat back and waited for science to happen. As predicted, major flatulence occurred. My theory is that the Greys have devised an apparatus to contain the volatile nature of flatulence and are using it to propel their craft while in an atmospheric environment. Further evidence might be derived from cattle mutilations. Knowing that cows are flatulence machines, perhaps the Greys are abducting these critters and using them as raw materials for their Flatulence Drives. The mutilations might be a cover for the true nature of bovine abduction or perhaps it is a method of accelerating flatulence. Hell, if someone cut off my lips or sexual organs, I'm certain my body would expel larger amounts of noxious products.

Another aspect of abduction that has been glossed over is the nature of abductee's. To my knowledge, no study has been done on the demographics of abduction. True, you see many interviews of purported abductees, but no one has broken these down into "classes. " A preliminary examination by myself shows that a large number of abductee's's fall under the class of "Bubba's." Review it for yourself. Interviews with abductees contain an abundance of the phrases; "y'all", "goll-darned", and "we wuz watchin' Wheel of Fortune when...". Now this points towards evidence that the Greys are seeking out abductee's with similar tastes. Do the math.

Now, many of you are wondering about Faster than Light travel. You say, "How can a life form that is not may times more advanced travel across the stars to visit us?" Well, I have been working on a theory for that which involves clothespins, scalded cats, a pit bull, crack cocaine and treadmills. The more enlightened of you can see where I'm going with this but since my testing is not yet complete, I am withholding publication until a later date when my stitches are removed and the plastic surgery is finished.

Comments are welcome and you are more than welcome to try and shoot holes in my theory. Better bring a bigger shotgun than I have. (hoch ptoooie)