I guess I’m not the only one! Check this blurb on my best buddy Al. From the Phenomena, Area 51′s interveiw with Andy Roberts.
“But there are worse creatures in the US, creatures of limited intelligence and little knowledge, who believe that just because the Internet exists their opinions are in some way relevant. One of these humans – I am assuming he is human – bears the name Alfred Lehmberg,
a strange little person who finds it necessary to attempt to mask his ignorance and stupidity by writing in the manner of a 17th century sailor and kowtowing to any big name American Ufologist. This guy has to be read to be believed and I seriously urge anyone stupid enough to be still reading to check his website out. When you’ve stopped laughing admit that I was right! I long ago worked out that American ufology bears *no* relation to the UK version of the subject and any sensible Ufologist in the UK will confine their studies to what’s happened here and not pollute their thinking with the waffle and hot air generated by American ufologists.”
Well; some UFOlogists in any case.
OE:
Lehmberg is indeed a sad little man. More the subject of pity that anything else. It must be tough to be him, so alone, so angry.
Paul
Well I partially agree. He’s angry and rather sad which is why he lashes out at people. He’s probably lonely because those tendencies drive people away.
I pity him only a little. Al’s got a spark of the right stuff. He’s intensely curios of the world around him. He’s correctly surmised that the Earth is just a tiny chunk of matter in a very large Cosmos. He’s got a shard of something I call “the wonder” but it seems to have gone backwards.
He’s getting one or two things wrong however; people; all people are really just a tiny-tiny piece of the Earth. He is just a small chunk of screaming flotsam just like we all are. He’s not onto something that no one else has thought of, he’s not sage, or a prophet. He’s not much of a visionary, he believes that he is and this gives him a tragic hubris, one that’s caused him grief in the past. Also; a minor point, you can’t really punish people and you’re not likely to sway opinion by bullying.
His “fatal flaw” is; like so many others is, he’s locked. He’s incapable of learning. He has no horizons because *he is* the center of creation in a very real way—in his own mind. People who isolate themselves sometimes experience this.
That’s what I find sad. I can’t find it in myself to dislike the guy.
Greetings to the esteemed Emperor, and to Paul–
I neither like or dislike him because I do not know him, the bearded sage, in the flesh. Only by his pathetic, half-mad ramblings. Probably we could get through a meal together, as long as we stuck to subjects like favorite colors and didn’t talk much, otherwise.
He is indeed angry, but it is a delusionary anger, directed at phantom conspiracies, at a world that doesn’t meet his expectations of what it should be. And so he devises his own belief system based on a vast hodgepodge of borrowed ideas, ideas that were crazy in their initial incarnation, and which are made crazier upon passing through the filter of his paranoid mind. He paints “Disclosure” as a panacea for all the world’s ills, but he’s really thinking about his own ills when he speaks about the upcoming “Golden Age.” Alfred is broken, Alfred is disillusioned, Space Brothers, will you kiss Alfred’s psychic boo-boos and make them all better?
For all his hearkening to a “brighter day,” in contrived, high-sounding prose, he can certainly spit venom when he feels that his bizarre worldview is being threatened.
He has directed his sophist rhetoric at me on more than one ocassion, and I take it only as a note that I’m on the right track. Curious, isn’t it, how being so nearly OPPOSITE another person can give you a peace of mind that you’ve probably got your head screwed on right?
I suspect he comes by this venue, and reads the stuff here. In that case, when you read this, Alf, you should know that I can, in my mind’s eye, conceive of every poisoned statement you will make, and hear your stilted “post modern” (or whatever it is) rhetoric, figuratively echoing in my ears. It’s always the same; it never changes. It’s the static dialogue of a person whose real-world evolution jumped the fence into a world where quasi religious fantasy reigns supreme
Rod Brock
Greetings R.D!
Indeed; his writings seem delusional and downright scary at times. But its little more than typical religious patter, dressed up in space-suits and UFOs this time. One school of thought likens this to remnants of pre-adolescent adoration of our parents. It’s not too much of a stretch to think that some people become irrationally fixated on this idea, transferring those emotions to a convenient set of beliefs.
In Alf’s case, he’s a pretty good public speaker (although they mock him terribly on Strange Days Indeed—he doesn’t seem to notice.) His writing though is unbelievably over the top, he can’t seem to get it though his head that people are people and everyone has a slightly different viewpoint then himself. Most people in the UFO biz seem to ignore him, and I don’t blame them a bit.