In contrast, the Indigenous Hypothesis put forth here argues that some UFOs are in fact real vehicles. But we’re not under siege by anthropomorphic ETs or “goblins from hyperspace”: the beings behind the curtain are eminently tangible. They insinuate themselves into our ontological context not to confuse us but to camouflage themselves. The UFO spectacle takes on the flavor of myth because it wants to be discounted. At the same time, knowing that their activities are bound to be seen at least occasionally, the occupants deliberately infuse their appearance with what we might expect of genuine extraterrestrial travelers.
It’s a formidable disguise — but it can be pierced.
Two years ago tomorrow, October 18, 2009, we who study and think about the weird and its implications lost one of our brightest lights, Mac Tonnies. Mac though and wrote about far more than the paranormal and his blog Posthuman Blues was a showcase for ideas ranging from science and the paranormal to cutting edge design and technology. Though probably most well-known today for his development of the cryptoterrestrial or indigenous hypothesis as a possible explanation for some UFO encounters (to which the quotation above is related), his work ranged far beyond that. His first published work was science fiction, followed by extensive writing on the potential for interplanetary archaeology (of which his After the Martian Apocalypse was the culmination).
I never met Mac in person, though we corresponded online semi-regularly via email and Twitter. I admired him greatly for his ideas and the clarity with which he expressed them. Even after a few years, I believe that the cryptoterrestrial idea is at least as possible as the extraterrestrial—not necessarily because of my experiences or physical evidence but because Mac was able to express the possibility of hidden peoples on our planet with such style.
Not that Mac was ever sold completely on any idea—even his own. This, as well, was something to admire. He sought clues rather than answers and understood that knowledge could come from stories as well as science (and that science, after all, was just another kind of story). Mac was a true skeptic who retained a sense of wonder about the universe, our world, and humanity.
Even today, when looking at something interesting online, I find myself wanting to send Mac the link on Twitter to see what his view is. Sometimes I still do, just in case he’s paying attention from beyond, in whatever posthuman state he’s achieved.
Mac was unique—in the literal sense that there’s no one like him out there in what we laughingly call the paranormal “scene”. I doubt there ever will be.