There’s a post from WS’s site from 2009 which I just came upon, in which he writes about his experience with the visitors, called “The Anguish and Pain of My Rape.”
There is just so much wrong with what WS is saying here that I don’t know where to begin and am not sure I even should. But here goes.
“On that night in 1985, a device called an electroejaculator was forced into my rectum, tearing it on the left side. At the time, I had no idea what was happening to me, or why, in the context of such a horrific experience, I would suddenly have an erection. I then experienced ejaculation and watched helplessly as what I can only describe as a monster collected my ejaculate and took it away.”
WS is talking here about the female being on the cover of Communion, whom he calls in another post “the greatest master I have ever known” — and whom he considers to be his other wife.
Here he calls her a monster.
This is only the most obvious contradiction. More specifically, WS is describing the use of a very archaic technology (first used in 1948) that is quite unnecessarily brutal if we consider that, on other occasions, his “visitors” are able to elicit responses from him by the most mysterious and subtle means imaginable.
It has become very clear to me that Strieber is mistaking a human agency for a non-human one. I would say that it is absolutely unequivocal – which raises the question of how it’s possible that Strieber cannot see something that is so very obvious?
The answer is that he is not thinking rationally. Yet WS can and does write very lucid, reasonable passages, even entire books. He is regarded by many people (I assume all of his followers) as a rational and coherent individual.
What I am having to face up to is that Strieber is a deeply traumatized individual who is wrestling with experiences that have left him unable to make coherent sense of them, and of either reality or himself.
This isn’t a pretty picture to paint of anyone, and it’s very difficult to do so without it seeming critical. It’s very hard not to want to be critical, when Strieber’s assertions are so fierce, his convictions so rigid and unbending, and when he is managing to persuade hundreds, maybe thousands, of people, that his view of reality (re: the contact experience) is a valid and coherent one.
Please wake up, Whitley! It’s not.
“I also recall the horrific mental anguish that I felt when I began to see the rectal probe jokes on Southpark. Seeing ‘Catman Gets an Anal Probe’ was like having acid poured down my throat. I relived the rape as I watched, horrified, at what was being done to me. And it was being done to me, specifically. The writers of the program were amusing themselves and their audience with my rape. . . .The visitors brutalized me on that night. But they only raped my body. My heart and soul were raped by people like Matt Stone, Trey Parker and Craig Ferguson.”
Say what? Is Strieber kidding with this shit? Bear in mind this outrage is coming from someone who has written glowing descriptions of beings tormenting humans in order to harness their own energy supply, who then calls the beings “angels.” From someone who has made a career, and millions of dollars, from constantly re-dramatizing his own traumatic experiences by turning them into various forms of horror fiction and alleged non-fiction, audio recordings and public appearances.
Yet watching a 20 minute cartoon for kids (sort of) is like having acid poured down his throat?
I’m sorry to be blunt but – that’s just fucking nuts.
“I never lied about anything that happened to me, and I am not wrong, either. The visitors are real, they are incredibly powerful and tough, they are taking our sexual material and nobody can do a thing about it.”
Strieber can’t have it both ways. Either he is the victim of a brutal act of physical and psychological rape, or he is the ambassador of an evolutionary agency bringing about fantastic new experiences of ourselves and reality. The only way he can have it both ways is by arguing that being raped by monsters is good for you. Tragically, this is exactly what Strieber is arguing.
Strieber compares himself to a rape victim in this post and demands he be treated as one.
OK. So would a rape victim create a ministry out of being raped, venerate his or her rapists as “masters,” and present the ordeal as “peak experience” that everyone should have, and can have, if they open themselves to it? (Remember that in 1986 Strieber had friends to his cabin so they could “share in the contact experience”!)
A rape victim who did these things would quickly be recognized as exhibiting delusional behavior due to trauma. End of story.
The indication seems painfully clear to me: a deeply traumatized psyche wrestling to deal with its experiences employs unconscious subterfuges to turn them into something “beneficial.” Strieber learned to “love [his] tormentors” and that unconscious subterfuge has, over the years, become the basis for a spiritual-scientific philosophy of alien contact in which torture and abuse by monsters is for our own good.
“In February of 1986, I started going out into the woods around my house at night, trying to confront them. And they did respond. I ended up in a sort of school, taught by masters and monsters, a dangerous, complicated, immeasurably fulfilling and terrifying school. I am still in that school, still learning, and trying to bring to my apply [sic] my Christian belief in the sanctity of man and the promise of resurrection to my experience. You come face to face with the visitors, and you immediately come also to know what incredible power there is in the gospels, and how the way of being that they propose is the ideal state in which to transform even the most vile bullies and rapists into sublime teachers. Because I did that. Despite appearances, I reached out to them and the gate was unlocked for me.”
What gate is he referring to here?
Something out of H.P. Lovecraft?
This is some deeply disturbing, terrifying shit, and Strieber’s catholic conditioning seems to have provided him with the perfect context for turning demons into angels. In his own mind, they are purging him.
Yet the “purging” has not brought peace to his troubled psyche.
“I say most, because some of the ones I met–two, to be precise–had a startling humanity about them. One of them–the one who was in control of me during the rape, in fact–became the main character in a story I wrote shortly after the event, called Pain.’ In the story, this being is an angel who purifies the soul by inducing great suffering.”
Apparently Strieber’s high-tolerance for abusive agencies doesn’t include the creators of South Park. But then, they didn’t only pour acid down his throat with their vicious bad taste, they messed with his book sales!
“Prior to that, my book sales had been declining because of all the negative publicity, but after that program aired they literally plummeted, with the icing on the cake being the Parade story. I found I could not get a publisher. I ended up in bankruptcy court. I lost all my books, a collection that it had taken my whole life to build. I lost the cabin. I lost everything.”
All that from one little cartoon? It must be nice to have someone to blame. By a massively elaborate, unconscious sleight of hand, Strieber’s abusers become his saviors, and a couple of guys who made a funny little cartoon about aliens which wounded Whitley’s pride (and seriously impacted his book sales? I don’t think so, Strieber isn’t even mentioned in the episode) — become soul rapers.
I have to be frank. Working on this piece has given me what’s known as “compassion fatigue.” I am finding it very hard to keep up with what I am discovering about Strieber and how deeply damaged he is, as a person, and the profound wrongness of what he is propagating. It’s wrong not morally but in the simplest and acutest sense of the word: false, delusional, and harmful, not so much to others (though I think that too), but to himself.
Today is Strieber’s 68th birthday, so there’s that number again — 68. What’s it mean?
I feel exhausted by this project. Drained, oppressed, almost sullied. There must be a light at the end of the tunnel. Unless its caved in and I wound up following the wrong trail of clues and now it’s too late to turn back? Sometimes I think I can see the light. Sometimes I think all this matters in some way, that it’s leading to a whole new understanding that will change the way people think about UFOs, the paranormal, everything.
Then I think: doesn’t that sound like something Whitley Strieber would say?
Happy birthday, Whitley. I sincerely hope we both can find peace some day.