“It could be that this amazing array of intellectually superior beings that appear to be ghosting around in our midst have good reason to remain hidden.”
—Whitley Strieber, Afterword to The Key
I am going to make several (possibly contentious) statements in order to lay out my hypothesis:
Fantasy is a means to escape reality.
The ability to escape reality and retreat into fantasy is a necessary capacity.
This capacity is one that an infantile or immature psyche develops in times of stress, i.e., when reality becomes more than the psyche can process.
The psyche cannot mature except by interacting with reality.
A psyche forced to deal with an overwhelmingly stressful reality also cannot mature, because its temporary retreat into fantasy becomes a permanent state.
To the degree to which a psyche remains “enclosed” in its own self-generated fantasy—and/or is “abducted” by the daimonic, archetypal realms of the unconscious—it will remain in an arrested state of development, infantilized.
Cause and effect of such a fantasy-prison merge and become inseparable: the infant psyche possesses a prodigious power to “dream,” to create all-inclusive surrogate reality states; and within those surrogate reality states, since it cannot mature, its power to generate fantasy remains undiminished, and can even increase over time as it becomes more proficient (“matures”) within the fantasy realms it generates.
Such a psyche is creating and withdrawing into a false environment—one in which the “fantastic” is commonplace and in which it is immune to the maturing effects of reality. Like David Bowie’s Major Tom, or Ray Kurtzweil’s resurrected father, the individual stays closed up, “floating in a tin can, far above the world.”
Stories of such a realm have been passed down since time immemorial in the cross-cultural tales of Faeryland. Faeryland, like the Neverland of Peter Pan and the Lost Boys, is a realm outside time in which a person does not age. Those who returned to the human world after a brief sojourn in Faeryland were said to discover that years, sometimes decades, had gone by in their absence. The same is true of the “missing time” experiences of abductees, of the fragmented timelines of dissociative identity disorder, and of the compartmentalized activities of MKULTRA lore, a la Candy Jones, trauma-engineered operatives who enter into “alter-personalities” to perform tasks which their dominant personality has no memory of. Strieber would seem to fit into all of these categories. Of course, this fragmentation of experience or removal from time does not prevent the body from aging. But the psyche that cannot develop as, or into, a unified, adult consciousness, is denied the possibility of ever individuating, of ever becoming whole.
A psyche that’s removed from time and cannot individuate remains perpetually in an infantile, or at best prepubescent, state of functioning. Like the puer aeternus (and J.M Barrie’s Lost Boys), it never grows up, and so it is spared the trials and troubles of adult sexuality and social responsibility. This is not true of the body, however. Whatever the state of development of the psyche, the boy must grow into a man and find for himself an identity, a persona, with which to navigate the world at large. Yet paradoxically, the refusal to grow up is sourced in early trauma caused (one way or another) by the absence/abuse of the father, who failed to protect the child—to “hold the space” necessary for it to mature inside. Since the dominant personality that forms is in defiance of the father, and of time itself (Saturn), it finds an identity for itself in this very “act” (unconscious will) of rejecting the father.
As I say, these are all contentious statements. They can’t be proved because the way the psyche operates, as with the UFO, means it doesn’t leave tracks. They are speculative models, formulas, metaphors, based on my own experience both with domestic trauma/dissociation, and with seemingly otherworldly or paranormal realities.
To read full essay, order Prisoner of Infinity: UFOs, Social Engineering, and the Psychology of Fragmentation