No one wants to believe in ancient aliens more than I do. As an atheist it’s easy for me to read the bible or any religious text (I don’t though cuz duh, I have a frickin’ life) and conjecture that the supernatural events described are more easily explained as the confused observations of dusty people with bad teeth as our planet was being visited by extraterrestrials.
Medieval paintings, mysterious lines in the sand, woodcuttings supposedly depicting an alien aerial dogfight; these objects are so very intriguing. I want to believe that they are evidence that there is, out there, something better than just our dumbass latte-slurping, petty, thieving, lying selves. Oh I do. And there probably is.
But alack, I must confess, I must admit, I must accept, that the information that is peddled around as evidence of ancient alien visitation has all the credibility of a governor who quits in the middle of her term as an elected official and then pimps her own daughter on ABC’s DWTS (I don’t like Sarah Palin and this is my blog so meh).
Are we really supposed to believe that aliens spent so much time with us and left absolutely no material proof that they were ever here? For all the impact that these space travelers have supposedly had on human civilizations throughout the centuries, how likely is it that they carried with them, like, no stuff ever? Not one shred of physical evidence indicating the extraterrestrial occupation of this planet has ever been unearthed. Nothing. It’s a bummer and I hate it, but them’s the facts. And this guy…look at this guy. What the hell is wrong with this man?