-Caveat Lector-
from alt.conspiracy
-----
As always, Caveat Lector.
Om
K
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<A HREF="aol://5863:126/alt.conspiracy:523240">::: Those Goddam Martian
Reptoids! [from 1958] :::
</A>
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Subject: ::: Those Goddam Martian Reptoids! [from 1958] :::
From: [EMAIL PROTECTED] (Brother Blue)
Date: Sat, May 15, 1999 10:55 AM
Message-id: <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>
Operators and Things
by Barbara O'Brien
Arlington Books, 1958
from the book jacket:
Is there really another race of "people" who control us by telepathy,
hynotic suggestion, thought projection, or even rays of a nature
unknown to man?
Are there actually "beings" visible only to a chosen few?
Barbara O"Brien thought so, from the time she awakened one
unforgettable morning to find a group of total strangers clustered
around her bed, discussing her with ghoulish dispassion --
strangers she alone could see!
>From the moment Barbara realized these creatures were dedicated
to manipulating her life, she became involved in a series of mental
and physical adventures that was to last six months -- adventures
so astounding to the "normal" mind that The Three Faces of Eve
and The Search for Bridey Murphey pale in their light.
THE REAL-LIFE ADVENTURE THAT IS STRANGER THAN SCIENCE FICTION
Introduction by Michael Maccoby, Harvard University; Prefatory note
by L.J. Reyna, Boston University.
(Note: In her actual account she relates: "I awoke one morning, during
a time of great personal tension and self conflict to find three grey
and somewhat wispy figures standing at my bedside... They were
not Men from Mars, but the Operators, a group in some ways s
tranger than martians could be.")
from the forward:
Let us say that when you awake tomorrow, you find standing at your
bedside a man with purple scale-skin who tells you that he has just
arrived from Mars, that he is studying the human species, and that
he has selected your mind for the kind of on-the-spot examination
he wants to make.
While you are catching your breath, he walks casually to your
best chair, drapes his tail over it, and informs you that he will be
visual and audible only to you. Fixing his three eyes sternly upon
you, he warns you not to reveal his presence; if you attempt to do
so, he threatens, he will kill you instantly.
You may wonder, perhaps, if you are sane. But the Man from Mars
is standing before you, clear and colorful, and his voice is loud
and distinct. On the basis of what you can so clearly see and
hear, you accept the fact, astounding as it is, that the stranger
is what he says he is.
If your temperament were such that you could not accept the fact
that a Man from Mars might just pop into your room, the vision
appearing before you would not be a Man from Mars. It might
be, instead, the awesome figure of God. Or the terrifying figure
of the devil. Or it might be a less conventional figure. In all
probabilty the figure, regardless of the form it took, would have
three characteristics: it would represent authority; it would have
superhuman powers; and it's weirdness would, in some way,
seem plausible and acceptable to you.
Let us say that you are faced with the Man from Mars and that
prior unresolved speculations concerning flying saucers give
the figure a certain plausibility. You are rattled but you attempt
to go through your normal activities, keeping your tremendous
secret to yourself. You converse with your friends, perform
your job, eat your meals, even while the figure stands by your
side. The Man from Mars advises you that it is not necessary
to answer his questions, that you need only to think your answers,
for he will be able to read your mind. You find this no idle boast;
the Man proceeds to demonstrate his ability to do just that.
If you are sufficiently controlled you may carry your secret around
with you for some time before anyone suspects that something
unusual has happened to you. A friend may notice that you seem
distraught and suggest that you unburden your troubles. You ignore
his advice. Obviously, such an action would only result in the instant
death of you and your confidant. Instead, you become more careful
of your behavior, hold onto yourself with everything you've got, and
pray desperately for the Man from Mars to complete his research
and depart.
It is possible that the Man from Mars may actually disappear with
a few days or a few weeks. There is about a .05 per cent chance
of this happening. You are physically exhausted after the Man
has gone back to Mars, and your mind, which had been racing
like a jet plane while the Man was with you, slows down and
almost refuses to function at all. But as the days pass, you
gradually revert to normalcy. In time, you may discuss your
experience with someone and you may even discover, at this
point, what was really happening to you while the Man from Mars
was with you.
There is a 99.5 per cent chance, however, if something like the
Man from Mars appears in your life, that he is still in your life
after a few months. By that time it is very probable that you
are in a mental institution, undergoing electric or insulin shock
treatment. There is a chance of the Man's disappearing after
a few shock treatments.
There is a much better chance that the Man is still with you after
the hundreth dose of shock. By that time you may become so
demoralized that you don't care whether the Man kills you or not;
or the doctors may inject you with drugs which induce you to talk.
You find yourself eagerly telling the doctors and anyone else
whose ears you can cature about your visitor and his purpose
in haunting you.
They don't believe you. This doesn't altogether surprise you.
After all, other people can't see and hear the Man; he's not tuned
into them. The Man may get nasty after your revelation of his
presence and you may get angry enough to take a few punches
at him -- and feel jubilant about doing this. While you are
glorifying in the release of your months-old tension, you find
that you are being fitted snugly into a restraining jacket and
that strong tranquilizing drugs are being stuffed down your
throat, or that the shock treatments have been increased to
reduce your aggressiveness.
The tranquilizers and the shock treatments may have the
desired effect and your impulse to challenge the Man disappears.
You review your situation despondently and finally resign yourself
to the inevitable, realizing that there isn't a thing any human being
in the world can do for you. You wait wearily for the Man to go back
to Mars. You might be in the institution for the rest of your life and
the Man from Mars might be there with you.
You have a common variety of the mental disease, schizophrenia,
a mental disorder more prevalent in America than it is anywhere
else and one which is mounting in rate of increase with each year.
Your mind is "split," and a subconscious portion of it, no longer
under your conscious control, is staging a private show for your
benefit. The kind of show it stages will depend upon the kind of
stuff that is in it and upon the relationship that existed between
your conscious and unconscious while your mind was whole.
It may, on the other hand, patiently stitch together the segments
of you that have split apart.
One thing is certain: when you sit on your ward bench, staring at
the wall, studying your apparition and despondently concluding
that no other human being in the world can help you, your deduction
will be a sane and reasonable one. If you develop schizophrenia
which cannot be arrested by a few doses of shock therapy or
tranquilizers, then there is no other human being in the world that
can help you. The only thing that can help you at that point is
the demon in control, your own unconscious mind.
BELIEVE IT OR NOT!
-Brother Blue, B:.B:.
Interdimensional Intelligence Analyst
-----
Aloha, He'Ping,
Om, Shalom, Salaam.
Em Hotep, Peace Be,
Omnia Bona Bonis,
All My Relations.
Adieu, Adios, Aloha.
Amen.
Roads End
Kris
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