Men In Black. Are They Real?

As some of you know, I grew up in a family that dealt with the paranormal. My dad is the logical one, my mom–not so much. My mom tended to blur the lines between reality and fantasy.

As a child I was lolled to sleep not with stories of children flying to a distant land where they never grew up and pirates roamed the seas.

No.

Instead, my bedtime stories were of men in black, aliens, spirits, parallel universes, and astral travel.

This morning, I was sitting on my porch in my sweats enjoying the cool breeze, the sounds of the trees rustling around me, and the smell of autumn in the air. A tall man in black caught my eyes. He was down the street. I watched him, wondering what he was doing and why he was dressed like Johnny Cash. He had an easy, confident stride as he rounded a vehicle and then entered it. In the distance, a church bell chimed.

Was he going to church?

Not likely.

And then, I thought of the story about the “men in black,” my mom used to tell me.

Wait a minute.

Who are the men in black?

It’s not the movie with Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s folklore with countless tales and conspiracy theories in the UFOlogy world surrounding these mystery men. It all boils down to this: they’re men dressed in black suits who harass and threaten UFO witnesses to keep them quiet. Some people believe they’re government agents, while others think they’re aliens. My mom was one of those people who believed these men were extraterrestrial. My dad on the other hand says the MIB is bullshit.

The story about the MIB my mom told me about was simple. She never went into detail, but throughout the years the tale always remained the same:

Two men pulled up to our house in a black vehicle, and they were dressed in black. They threatened my mom and our family. She knew too much. She and my father’s involvement in the UFO and alien investigations were crossing a dangerous line. She needed to back off and keep quiet. Something about their eyes wasn’t right, and they were very pale. And then they left.

That was one of many stories told to me by my mother. As an impressionable child, I believed her.

Why wouldn’t I?

But now, not so much.

I do believe though, there are things hidden from society by the government. Regardless, though, the stories spun to me, true or false, have aided me in my own stories. And they will continue to spill into my tales, smearing the line between fiction and nonfiction, or perhaps not.

But that’s for the reader to decide.

After I publish a book, it’s in their hands.

It’s for them.

And if a man clad in a black suit ever approaches me, demanding I quit writing tales about dark spirits inhabiting soulless humans so they can walk among us undetected in the flesh . . . I’ll tell him to piss off.

Even if he’s hot.

Of course, it’s not going to happen, but it’s fun to imagine, right?

So are the “men in black” real?

Like I said, I’ll leave that up for you to decide.

 

 

Cheers!

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