Posthuman Blues

How's this for phildickian head-tripping: Maybe I'm a cryptoterrestrial! Maybe I'm on their payroll. Maybe my book-in-progress is yet more misdirection, a mass of lies sprinkled with nuggets of truth to mislead bothersome humans.

Or maybe I'm an extraterrestrial espousing the Indigenous Hypothesis in order to draw attention away from the real alien menace.

Or perhaps I'm playing the cryptoterrestrials against the extraterrestrials from the comfort of my Area 51 office, eating grapes from the hands of supermodel-secretaries! (Is Brooke Burke in on it?)

Or . . . or maybe I sincerely believe I'm just a writer/blogger from the Midwest when in truth I'm a nonhuman with implanted memories! Maybe I don't know what side I'm on. Maybe all is duplicity and scheming and endless mind-games and we're all held helpless in some insidious alien grip quite beyond human comprehension . . .