Posthuman Blues

I find broadcast towers oddly frightening. Maybe they're not tinfoil-hat scary, but they sound a quiet alarm. We seldom take the time to look up and actually see these things -- which is perhaps understandable, since they're everywhere: anonymous spurs skewering the clouds and filling the sky with unknown chatter.





If we're evolving faster to meet the demands of an increasingly compromised planet, I suppose it's not out of the realm of possibility that our brains are being forced to adapt to the ubiquitous electromagnetic fog spawned by the telecommunications industry. Maybe some UFOs are a way our minds have developed to make sense of the onslaught of radio and microwave radiation that permeates modern culture. Radio inundation might be ripping holes in the collective unconscious, leaving conspicuous voids to be filled.

(Albert Budden -- a probable source behind the "secret" UK report on plasma and UFOs -- has speculated along similar lines; he describes "abductions" as the psyche's way of maintaining identity when faced with acute allergic distress.)