<HTML>Now you punx & cybersharx,
I think that this MB has become a bit dull of late. It's all about scepticism, and professional scepticism is not exactly the most riveting mental expedition you can embark on. More to the point: It doesn't even pay off [more on that later on].
Some of you may have read my posts over on the GH board. I'm German, which means I was raised with the writings of Erich von Däniken, Ulrich Dopotka, Johannes von Buttlar and the like. I must say that I admire these chaps. As far as reality is concerned, they have a really relaxed no-sweat attitude. They are not at all tight-sphinctered when it comes to facts and proofs. When Philipp, father of Alexander the Great, was asked what he thought of reality, he said: »Not a lot. Actually, come to think of it, I figure there are gonna be some changes 'round here.«
Well said. The German authors I'm talking about do not even give an excrement about changing reality. They just make it up. Which means they are real poets.
There was a time when I concurred with them: I thought that reality had to conform to my own wishes. One day, something terrible happened: I was given a book to read. I had to confront reality. I think this traumatic event took place at the age of three.
Lost are those wonderful days of yore. However, I'm not beyond infantile regression. Actually, I think that infantile regression is the most promising way of getting rich in the quick 'n dirty way.
More to the point, I think we should write a book.
I'm talking about the perfect pseudoscientific blockbuster. It shall be more encompassing, ludicrous and pseudoscientific than anything that good ole' Erich has managed to come up with. It shall be the ultimate Grand Theory of Everything - short enough to be written on a T-shirt, important enough to sell at least one million copies. This should be easy to perform; I mean, Erich has managed to sell more than 60 million copies. Even Johannes Baron von Buttlar, who is an »aristocrat« and studied »astronomy« at an Australian institution called »Prague University«, has managed to sell 30 million books. Now, insofar as this institution doesn't exist, and insofar as this guy is not a Baron at all (he's not even called Buttlar), all we need is someone who is willing to play the figure-head. He or she must be willing to become a Baron, or maybe even a Duchess. I'd volunteer for that position, the problem being that I was actually educated at a real institution (Oxford University, which some claim to have been around for a couple of centuries). He/she wouldn't even have to write a single line. All we need is a bunch of anonymous enthusiasts who are willing to write a book that turns the table: an ultimate Trojan horse that beats the pseudos at their own game.
It probably goes without saying that this tome must cover UFOs, secret chambers, the Freemasons, Atlantis, prehistoric genetic engineering, exploded planets, alien abduction, the CIA, Chinese pyramids, Stonehenge, sunken prehistoric temples, cryogenetics, cryptogenetics and cryptocryptics, to say the least.
Now you may think I'm just kidding. I'm not. Actually, being a writer, I'm dead serious about this. Walking through my local Berlin bookstore, I find myself being treated to a load of bollox. Having actually READ most of this stuff, I find myself wondering: Why on earth don't you write something like this? What's the problem? Just get yourself a pseudonym and take the p*ss out of people. That would be such a lovely sociopsychological experiment. All it requires is a simple act of alienation: [1] you, [2] your propositions, [3] the truth-value attached to your propositions. As soon as you manage to differentiate between yourself, your thoughts and their veracity, life becomes really easy.
None of us, taken individually, would ever DARE to perform such an experiment. We are doing serious research, and we have a reputation to gain/lose. However, if we were a wicked tribe, a sort of experimental cyber-clan, the problems would vanish. We could have so much FUN! We're intelligent, we're fierce, and we have a sense of humour. So … why not ?!
Yours,
Michael</HTML>
