Ok, I’m not the smartest hog at the trough or even close. I fact, I’ve been told at times in my life such things as “you’re dumber in the head than a hog is in the ass” or as one former co-worker always liked to point out “you’re dumber than a sled track.” Often, I’ve had a hard time disputing such claims, but despite that, I have to ask: who are these people who passionately believe in things like UFOs, the Loch Ness Monster, Big Foot, ghosts, that old West Virginia favorite the Moth Man and other such absurd legends and how do they find the intellect to wipe their pitiful asses?
Show me a shred of evidence. I don’t mean some video of a guy in a gorilla suit or a footprint made from a wooden form. I mean real evidence like a clear piece of video or how about a sample that can be analyzed for DNA. Now that would be decisive. Alas, such pieces of the puzzle are NEVER produced.
How about UFOs? Thousands of these things have been sighted all over the world. Have we ever seen a single piece of material supposedly taken or left behind from one of these objects? Do we have anything other than some fuzzy video of a pie plate wizzing through the air or a bunch of lights bouncing around that could be anything? Nope. Not a single tiny shred of real physical evidence. Nothing, despite decades of reports and insistence by a group of under stimulated mostly white male weenie whack jobs.
So what is it that leads people to believe in things that don’t really exist?
I understand that every so often someone witnesses something that they can’t explain or they see something and jump to conclusions. I was driving home one night along the ridge leading to my homestead and I saw a head bobbing along behind a huge clump of briars alongside the road. It looked like some big hairy red headed ape looking dude that would have had to have been 8-10 feet tall. It was creepy. It was a deer. I saw the deer cross the road in the headlights way ahead of me. What if I were a little bit less grounded in reality, a little bit more prone to jumping to conclusions, a little bit more excitable and I hadn’t seen the deer in the headlights way ahead of me on the road? Yup, there’d have been a Big Foot sighting right here in rural West Virginia. The lunatic fringe would have descended upon this idyllic quiet locale like a bunch of . . . well, frenzied lunatics.
And speaking of big foot, anybody who has ever seen Robert Lee White in their headlights stumbling up the road toward home drunk on a Saturday night might also make the mistake of thinkin they done seen something supernatural if they didn't know Robert Lee. . . all 6'4" and 350lbs of him. The other thing is, Robert Lee hasn't shaved since he got home from Viet Nam in '71.
Another time I was driving along Booger Creek Road in broad daylight and I saw ahead of me a really, really big cat. It was jet black and looked big enough to carry off one of my big turkeys. My eyes about popped out of my head. Guess what, it was a normal size feline belonging to my neighbor about a mile up the road (surprise, surprise), but I thought it was much further away when I first saw it scamper across the road than it actually was. Once I got up to where the pussy cat had crossed the road and disappeared into the woods, I realized my mistake. . . again, what if I were just a little less sceptical and prone to excitement and jumping to conclusions. Yea, we’d have had panthers on the creek. . . and I’ll bet I coulda found one or two other folks who had seen the same giant feline a time or two over the years.
That leads us into the realm of “cryptozoology” (yaaaawwwn). I don’t like to brag to my friends or neighbors out here on the creek where we all pretty much farm for a living, but I’ve got a degree in biology. Yup, a genuine BS degree from an accredited university. I also have a degree in “physical sciences,” but that don’t matter in this here conversation. . . oh, and don’t tell the rest of the farmin folk out here in the outback of Appalachia. They might take to lookin at me all suspicious if they wuz to find out such information about my background. . . but back to cryptobiology: WTF is “cryptobiology?!” Is there some school of supernatural phenomena where you can get a degree in cryptobiology? These whack jobs go around looking for animals that don’t exist. Yup, they’re specialists in things like the Loch Ness Monster and Big Foot. Remember I told ya there’s not a single shred of evidence that these things exist? What do they study? I tell ya, it’s just amazing the things that people will believe these day. Hell, I can understand why medieval folks believed in dragons and such. They didn’t have scientific analysis, infrared cameras, media coverage and other modern contraptions. I’ll bet a good con man from the 21st century could go back there in time and end up owning the world, but this IS the 21st Century folks. Let me state the obvious for you: Cryptobiology is pure bullshit and the people who claim to be cryptobiologist are morons. Biologists study real living things. We measure, count, analyze, compare, survey and observe real life. You can’t do those things to stuff that doesn’t exist or nobody has ever seen.
I could go on, and on and on, and don’t even get me started on paranormal studies or psychic phenomena. . . I’ll spare you. Cryptozoology, ufology, paranormal studies, etc. are all scams perpetrated by either con men and women or people with serious mental disorders who have a powerful need to believe in something that doesn’t exist. So next time somebody starts talking about Big Foots or UFOs, blow them off. Walk away. Don’t entertain their madness. Come on out here to Booger Creek and I’ll introduce you to Maggie Louise Blalock. When she’s comin at ya with all that big curly blond hair blowin in the wind you think she been out in the garden pickin over-ripened honeydews and when she’s walkin away you’ll swear she’s got a couple of bear cubs fightin in a burlap sack. You’ll forget all about the bozo who wuz talkin about big foot or UFOs.
Y’all have fun.
When you believe in things that you dont understand,
Then you suffer,
Superstition aint the way
Stevie Wonder - Superstition 1972