Little
Black Worms…Little Green Men
The portions of this from the human standpoint are
factual. I cannot verify the worms’
reactions.
Ever since I was a kid, I relished the idea of making
contact with beings from other worlds. I
reveled in the stories of those who had seen “UFO’s.” I stayed up late at night to listen to people
who gave accounts of their contacts with Space Aliens. Of course, I’ve never seen an alien craft. By definition, I’ve seen lots of photos. Most of them can be explained, (Once
explained, they are no longer “Unidentified Flying Objects.” They are identified.) Swamp gas, airplanes, other natural
phenomena, and just plain hoaxes.
As to those who claim to have been in contact with
aliens, I’ve heard many of them speak. (Not the aliens…the abductees!) Most are obvious phonies looking for a few
moments of notoriety. But are they all?
And there are many who claim to have seen Sasquatch,
or his many equally elusive counterparts.
Maybe some are telling the truth.
I don’t know. I DO know I’ve
never seen one. I also know that having
a Sasquatch, or a Loch Ness Monster or remnants of crashed UFO’s can really be
a boon to the local economy. After all, if it wasn’t for little green men or
giant sea serpents, or hairy humanoids living in the mountains of Tibet, why
would anyone go to a small desert town in the middle of New Mexico or a remote
lake in Scotland, or climb a dangerous Himalayan Mountain?
So I have a healthy skepticism, especially about those
who claim to have had dialogue with, and been beamed aboard, alien space
craft. Yet…there are a few that have a
ring of truth about them. (But sincere and honest people often have delusional
episodes which they believe.) Maybe it’s
just so rare that we come into contact with little green men, or gigantic
lizards or intelligent Yeti types living in the snow. Even if we did have the
experience, who among us would be willing to share it, and suffer the attendant
ridicule and disbelief?
*************************
Whenever we get a spell of wet weather, my house is
invaded by one or more tiny black inchworms.
They are harmless little creatures to be sure. But I must admit I don’t like sharing my home
with non-domesticated animals.
So when, a while back, I spotted a single specimen making
it’s way along my kitchen floor, my first thought was to evict it. I gently picked “him” up in a piece of tissue
(O.K..”him” is an arbitrary gender assignment…I don’t know how one tells the
sex of an inchworm!) then conveyed him to the front door and deposited him in a
flower bed. At worst, he would provide a
snack for a bird or squirrel. But maybe
he’d wander around until he met up with the friends ands family which comprised
inchworm society.
**************************
Upon Joe’s (I think male inchworms are all named ‘Joe.)
arrival at the muddy plot, the inchworm president asked. “Where have you been? Were worried about you.”
“I visited a huge structure in which resided immense
giants. You know, the kind we speak
about in our myths and folklore. But now I know it’s real. One of them touched me.”
“Joe, that’s just superstition. No one has ever seen such things. Have you been eating lotus leaves?”
“No, no. Really
it’s true. This colossal beast actually
picked me high up. I thought it was going to eat me, but it wrapped me in a
blanket and put me outside of it’s home.”
“Joe, Joe, Joe!
You are delusional. Things like
that don’t happen. It’s all fantasy. The fact that this imaginary giant set you
free is in itself absurd enough to refute your story.”
Other members of the group began to chime in. “Such creatures have been talked about for
generations. Most don’t believe they
exist. The few worms who make up
experiences like this have been totally discredited. How do you account for the fact that no one
else here has ever seen these gigantic structures, let alone the behemoths you
claim live there?”
“We live on a huge planet,” Joe responded. “We worms move
just a few feet a year. Doesn’t it seem
logical that very few inchworms would ever come into contact with such wondrous
things? I can describe the interior of
these cavernous buildings; The floors
are varied from shiny stone to some kind of multicolored indoor grass, and….”
“Enough! Enough of this nonsense Joe! You are inflaming
our most nonsensical and fanciful insecurities
and superstitions…and you are frightening our children with your preposterous
and discredited claims. One more word of
this, and I’ll have you committed!”
Joe never spoke of this encounter again. After a while, even he began to believe that perhaps
it had all been in his mind…a figment of an overactive imagination.
************************
I wonder if there might be real Sasquatch sighters, or
actual viewers of the Loch Ness Monster, or even those who have, in fact, been
beamed up to flying saucers by alien beings for experiments. Might they be reluctant to tell their stories
for fear of societal rejection or public ridicule? I wish, though, that I could have one of
those extraterrestrial experiences…But if I did, I’m not sure I’d risk telling
my story. I wonder if anyone would
believe me. And I doubt, whether upon
hearing this from another person, I’d believe it.
The inchworm’s tiny world was too limited and it’s
experience too rare to give credence to poor Joe. Might our human world be too
limited our human experience too rare to recognize beings and civilizations
other than those found in everyday life? Are we missing something? Most of those inchworms had never seen a
human. Their vision is limited to a few
feet ahead and a couple of inches off the ground. What would the chances be
that they would ever see, let alone
recognize a human or a man made structure? No wonder they almost put
poor Joe in an inchworm loony bin. Could
we humans have limitations that prevent us from seeing what might be all around
us? Is it possible that a few of us have
stumbled upon alien or earthly beings that the maority believes are delusions?
Who would have the courage to talk about it?
What if one out of a thousand people who claim to have been taken by
aliens is NOT lying? Of course, I don’t know.
Neither does anyone except those few.
That’s all for now.
I’m off to Roswell.
Bob Meyerson, February, 2016
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