News You Can't Use: NASA to Investigate 10,000-Year-Old Mystery Rock that ‘Shows Paintings of UFOs and Aliens’

It's nice to finally see another highly credible story of saucer people interacting with our ancient ancestors, as confirmed by heavily faded and deeply ambiguous paintings on a rock. If this doesn't convince you, I'm not sure what it's going to take. Now it's time to bring in NASA for investigation, which, I guess, will mainly consist of "That kinda looks like Marvin the Martian, doesn't it?" and then mumbled agreement followed by a massive cover-up just for fun.

In the footage, a narrator explains how a number of art pieces have been revealed.

Who are you to disagree with a narrator?

Discovered in Charama, India, the images appear to show aliens and UFOs, similar to scenes of a sci-fi movie.

You know, like in a spaceman film on your sex box? Because your mind has been completely destroyed by mainstream media, booze and pills we have to put this into the most banal possible terms in hopes you'll somehow comprehend.

According to local archaeologist JR Bhagat it is unclear as to what the images reveal.

We should consider this sensible statement as a blank check to begin making the wildest and most baseless speculations possible.

He said: "The findings suggest that humans in prehistoric times may have seen or imagined beings from other planets which still create curiosity among people and researchers. 

Well, that or its just mythological images that aren't really intended to depict anything in the real world, but that's a lot more likely to be correct and also less fun.

Extensive research is needed for further findings.

We're going to need a lot more funding, that's for sure.

“Charama presently doesn't have any such expert who could give clarity on the subject.“

I think we all know who to send for...

Yes, it is.

He added: "The paintings are done in natural colours that have hardly faded despite the years.

As opposed to "unnatural colors," whatever that would actually be.

“In few pictures, they are even shown wearing space suits. We can't refute possibility of imagination by prehistoric men but humans usually fancy such things.”

You crazy humans and your so-called "imagination."

One comment read: "Evidence is everywhere, we need opened eyes, that's all."

Open your eyes, sheeple, you're being lied to!

And another claimed: "We dont need to find aliens, they are already here all around us."

[Illegal immigration joke goes here]

Full Article.

Komment Korner     

We are still trying to recover from the guy who had his portrait painted by a man who likes to depict black women beheading white women.

I saw an alien painted with a bunch of plants sitting on a chair.  Had 6 fingers too.

What?  Rabbits can't talk?   But what about Bugs Bunny and Peter Rabbit?

There is TONs of evidence that has been around 100 years.  This is not NEWS...  The only question is why is this only NOW making it to the main stream?

And if you laugh at this and deny it, it only means that you have not investigated it at all but are only rolling along with the worldview of the deluded, controlled masses.

Aaron Zehner is the author of "The Foolchild Invention" available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.

Choose Your Own Adventure #19: Secret of the Pyramids

Last time the Twist-a-Plot pain was delivered via a somewhat risible tale of the evils lurking behind the local news. Today it's back to Choose Your Own Adventure to check out a book that represents a major milestone in the development of this series. In 1983 the demand for wussy vehicles tales laden with far left ranting and space/time adventures that are obviously drug abuse metaphors had outstripped the ability for R.A Montgomery and Edward Packard to respectively supply them. This meant new authors would join the stable, with wildly varying results. Dismissing the mysterious D. Terman this is the first entry by someone other than the two founding fathers of this glorious empire.

The writer in question is Richard Brightfield, who we already got to know in a book all about sub-mission. Judging by that effort he shares R.A. Mongomery's fascination with impractical modes of transport and is deeply interested in various pseudo-sciences that have fallen out of favor. We're going to turn that loose in Egypt. I'm already dreading the inevitable "sand buggies" and "ley line intersections."

Alternate title: "Secret Agent for ISIS"

Like any great work of literary fiction it starts with chilling out at home, doing absolutely nothing because pretty much every piece of technology that now dominates day-to-day life had yet to be invented. I get a call from Uncle Bruce who just got back from Egypt and is planning to return soon. Offered an invite, I'm all over it, as opposed to the 2014 reaction which we would be "Naw, got these video games to play. 'Sides, that whole area is now dominated by a violent and nihilistic democracy gone mad. Smell you later." 

Instead, I'll smell him right now as we take an airplane to Rome, breezing through the non-existent security and taking several bottles of soda on the plane, or at least I would assume. I learn that my relative is working on a less than credible theory involving cosmic rays, big gaping holes under the pyramids and the dream of producing unlimited energy. Something tells me a lot of this guy's speeches start with "Is such a thing even possible?" and end with "...it was aliens!"

Meanwhile, some guy is craning to listen, but because airline paranoia isn't really a thing yet I dismiss this as meaningless. I also note he looks strange, but the tight Brightfield prose doesn't explain how, so I guess you could call this "Choose Your Own Superficial Prejudices." R.A. Montgomery would just declare him a midget and be done with it.

Please, share your unlimited energy via cosmic rays theories.

Arriving in Cairo (Egypt, not Illinois) my Uncle and I part ways so he can deal with "red tape." Finally something a modern audience can relate to. The otherwise undescribed strange man presses a piece of paper into my hand and then runs off. It says "Beware the Sphinx." Yeah, thanks for the tip. If I see that sucka I'll be sure to blast him in the center of the face with Napoleonic artillery, assuming someone hasn't done that already.  

I want some answers, or maybe an actual physical description of some sort, so I follow the man. We get your patented exotic locale cab chase that used to be common in popular entertainment before scenes of characters typing on keyboards replaced that as the go-to dramatic bridge. Then a push through a "thick crowd" and I spot the runner going into a cafe. Man, all these rich descriptions of Egypt, the author must have done tons of research and not just watched part of an Indiana Jones movie with the sound turned off or something similar.

Next we get belly dancers. I assume the scimitar-wielding fanatics, foul-tempered camels and nervous guides are still to come. I find a table and try to adjust my eyes to the poor light. I've got to find this stranger, because if I don't there's no way I can tell anyone else what to look for. "He was just strange, all right?"

Just depicting what's in the book, nothing gratuitous, no way.

I'm given super strong Egyptian coffee (Turkey, Egypt, same thing) and one of the dancers locks eyes with me, but I wreck it by immediately passing out. I wake up chained to a bed. I'm still in the same building and can hear the music coming from below. Yup, this is one amazing story about the Pyramids. Before anything even more freaky can occur one of the dancers frees me from the lock and helps me climb out the window. Yup, it's all going down in this tiny cafe. Casablanca would have been way better if light bondage, knock out pills and dancing girls with hearts of gold had been bigger plot elements, maybe replacing that French anthem scene.

Myself and the low-level sex industry employee make it out of the window and scurry over some rooftops, chased by unknown but bad-intentioned pursuers. We do the obligatory roof-to-roof jump and the exotic dancer has to drag me up to the next building, a scene lovingly depicted in a full page illustration. "Are all belly dancers as strong as you are?" I lamely ask. I'm told she was trained by acrobats and is probably only doing the hip-shaking to pay her way through community college. Or was kidnapped by a gang. It was one or the other. 

I really didn't think sex trafficking was going to be a thing in this book, but there it is. 

 

 Fans of fad workouts, hold on to your hats!

It turns out this entire quarter of Cairo is controlled by the belly dancer cartel, so escape is by no means certain. We finally make it out hidden in a donkey cart and after leaving the area part ways. Morning finds me in some cemetery and after a pointless freak-out I'm reunited with my Uncle and share the amazing story of erotic slavery, chain kink and the physical benefits of acrobatics. Suffice it to say, I'm on the next flight back to New York. I guess all those questions about space energy and the dangerous Sphinx will have to go unanswered.

I'll concede that this book overcame considerable limitations (i.e. the author being a lazy hack) to rise to the level of acceptable mediocrity. I don't think it will win any awards for originality or descriptive prose, but the story I got was decent enough. Besides, there was belly dancing slavery. There will always be that.

I've had it with...you know what, just forget it.

Check Out My Books!

Aaron Zehner is the author of "Posts from the Underground," now available in paperback and e-book. Read free excerpts here and here.

His first novel "The Foolchild Invention" is also available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.

Choose Your Own Adventure #11: Mystery of the Maya

After yet another lukewarm space adventure, complete with a heavy-handed "violence is always wrong, pacifism would somehow have defeated Hitler" moral, I'm glad to be back near the start of the series and safely on Planet Earth, all its flaws and too-heavy gravity notwithstanding. This time the aliens will come to us, building a lost civilization and then for some reason kicking the plug out of the wall.

Sadly, we've long passed the point of "Peak Maya" so this does put a bit of a damper on the proceedings. A few years ago they were definitely the "in" ancient civilization, easily displacing the massive Assyria fad that had dominated the nineties. Then it was discovered that the apocalyptic predictions of their amazing ancient calendar weren't any more reliable than some modern day American crank. Ever since that disappointing day when the world failed to end they've fallen back into that second tier of lost civilizations.

Another classic "montage of crazy stuff" cover.

I'm a writer assigned by my New York editor to go find out what happened to the Mayan civilization. It makes sense. When you need the solution to a practical problem and everyone who is actually qualified has failed, you send in an author, preferably a fiction one. This is why that guy who wrote that series of books where Marky-Mark is a secret agent with amnesia or whatever became our national military adviser after Nine Eleven.

Mayan history is laid out in efficient prose, covering their rise and fall in about three paragraphs. We're here for the choices not a dull lecture, after all. I arrive in the Yucatan and am greeted by Manuel, who I immediately and quite arbitrarily decide must be a descendent of the fallen empire I'm searching for. I mean, sure, why not? Add in a few flowery descriptions, assign both credit and blame to space men and I should have the next sure-fire best seller.

Is such a thing even possible? 

I get an offer to see some professor-type, but hard won experience has taught that this is a bad idea. Instead I want to go right to the "ruins" where I'll use my author superpowers to notice hidden details that were missed by thousands of trained archeologists. I get a choice between Chichen Itza and Uxmal and decide to go with Uxmal in much the same way I'd skip the Pyramids and Sphinx in Egypt and instead try to find some of the charred remains of the Library of Alexandria out in the desert somewhere. You've got to off-road to get the big scoops, obviously.

Despite picking the less trendy spot, there's "crowds of people" and I "wish I was alone." Yeah, tell me about it. I decide to check out something called the "Temple of Magicians," but get blocked by the crowd of gawking ugly Americans, camera-permanently-strapped-to-head Japanese and whatever negative stereotype that I'm not familiar with is applied to European tourists. While being frustrated by this crush of Temple aficionados an old man offers to take my to a "very deep water hole." You don't say no to that kind of offer.

   The new cover, completed with "rapper pose." Let me drop some lost civilization on you, sucker!

I follow the old man into the jungle, but instead of a totally righteous cistern I'm surrounded by armed criminals, having fallen for the old "Have a harmless senior citizen promise a well of some sort" ploy that every travel guide warns you about. They take my money and then strap me to a donkey. I'm going to be held for ransom. I wonder if my friends and family will be able to raise the needed funds and the story ends right there. Yet another forgotten victim of trusting the elderly and being way too into the idea of extracting water from the earth.

The ending was abrupt and I didn't really get to do anything, but overall this one seemed to hold a lot of promise. The writing is actually pretty solid, there's a nice exotic setting and a goal to aim for. By R.A. Montgomery standards this is in the top 10%, easily. Too bad I promptly blundered into a rejected torture pornography script. 

The normal aging process gets you. The End.

Check Out My Books!

Aaron Zehner is the author of "Posts from the Underground," now available in paperback and e-book. Read free excerpts here and here.

His first novel "The Foolchild Invention" is also available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.

Choose Your Own Adventure #2: Journey Under the Sea

After killing a witch for the final time and lifting the death curse I decided I'd stay with more of that single-digit goodness, this time with a 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea knockoff. Amazing adventure, just add water. I usually don't talk about the copy I'm using, but I'd like to mention that I got stuck with the lame 2005 reprint that looked like it had been used as the only ball in a week long rugby tournament. In other words, it's not the good, old version, it just looks like it. Wonderful, haven't even cracked the cover (not like it needs it!) and I'm already prejudiced against this book. Plus, it's R.A. Montgomery, so I'm sure we'll be getting all his weird little trademarks, like anti-nepotism and an obsession with gliders.

Living under the sea: the solution to all of life's problems.

I'm an expert "deep sea explorer" who one day just decides to go take my wussy one-man submarine and find Atlantis. I mean, how hard can it be to locate something that probably doesn't exist? Yup, gonna go find a metaphor Plato used to make a point. No problem. Sadly, we don't get page after page of wet-brain ancient astronauts theorizing, instead it's just "yeah, I'm looking for Atlantis, so what?" I'm a man of action, clearly. Certainly not a man of thinking or doing research. 

If we make history "cool" and fill it with lies people will care about it again!

My personal sub Seeker, the obvious glider analogue in this book, is deployed from a research vessel. This is probably not even in the top one hundred ridiculous uses of tax payer money, but it's still pretty bad. I'm lowered via a cable into the darkest depths of the ocean. Then I'm told I've got this special anti-pressure diving suit that will allow me to leave the relative safety of the goofy dive-boat. As dumb as this is it's still better than "The Abyss."

I'm reminded this is the cash-in reissue, now with significantly worse illustrations, by the unbelievably stilted attempts to modernize the story by references to a "PDA" and the "latest microprocessors." Ugh. I leave the Seeker, maintaining radio contact with the research ship.Thankfully this revision is from 2005 or there would probably be mentions of taking pictures for Facebook and tweeting under hashtag AtlantisIsRealYOLO.

Technology and genital humor: combining them is not as easy as you might think.

I decide to cut loose from the line and head toward the ocean floor. Incredibly this suicidal plan is approved by the paper-pushers up above, suggesting they either don't fully understand the risks or just don't like me. So I'm descending into what Montgomery describes as a "canyon" but is presumably an undersea trench. We get exciting encounters with "bubbles" and a possible "grotto." Man, I can see why this whole "under the sea" genre got to be so popular. All the excitement of being wet, combined with slow movement and bad lighting. Yeah that's the good stuff. 

I decide to investigate a "round entrance." Really. Long, hard, tube-shaped object entering a wet hole. Paging Doctor Freud.

Imagine this, but in book format.

Anyway, through the entrance. I see what looks to my eyes like a dock, but probably represents the early stages of that kind of madness you get from a combination of crushing pressure, isolation, oxygen depletion and innuendo overdose. The searchlight attached to my sub isn't doing a very good job, so I get the choice to turn on the "laser." 

I hit the laser light and immediately get hit back with refined nonsense. There's a submarine that I immediately, somehow, recognize as one that got lost in the Bermuda Triangle a year ago! Did I mention the Bermuda Triangle is 2000 miles away! Whoa! Honestly, this is what should have been rewritten, instead of adding dated 2005 references to clash with the 1978 Sea Hunt nonsense.

And the main hatch is free of algae! What is going on!

I'm practically begging for the next entry to have a "The End" at the bottom of it.

The logical explanation behind the Bermuda Triangle.

I decide not to mess with the submarine. Instead, I keep going, finding the surface littered with strangely undamaged shipping. I speculate that Atlantis is capturing ships in the Bermuda Triangle and then taking them here. It certainly passes the Occam's razor test. I decide to get a closer look and am promptly murdered by sea snakes. There's even a loving description of toxins hitting the old "cerebral cortex." I'm told my life was "short and sweet." Yup, at least I'm gonna leave a beautiful corpse.

This is what my special diving suit probably looked like.

 

Yeah, I didn't get into this one. Putting the nautical equivalent of the bigfoot legend front and center didn't do this one any favors and the writing was surprising flat, considering we're in this underwater wonder world. Maybe I'll try it again when I get the proper original version. 

I regret nothing.

Aaron Zehner's first novel The Foolchild Invention is available in e-book format at Amazon.com and Barnes & Noble.