Genius, my lad! Genius!
So, I’ve been watching a lot of music videos on YouTube recently; actually, that’s pretty normal, right? Who doesn’t watch YouTube videos besides undiscovered tribes, inbred cults deep in the darkest forests, malevolent shadow people and anyone who died before 2005?
But I’ve been watching the videos by original music video artists; as in, they’re only on Youtube- not CD or anything. So, Toby Keith and Maroon Five? Not on this list. These guys don’t sell their songs- except on iTunes. I’m including covers and parodies, because damn there are some good ones out there. Let’s get to it, shall we?
In no particular order here:
God Bless the U.S.A. by The Gardiner Sisters
Kicking off our list is a truly patriotic cover song. I frickin’ love these girls. They’re great singers, what can I say? Also, they’re Mormons, which is kind of a point against them, but I’m all for the First Amendment, so why bring it up? Whatever, their softer tuned version of the Lee Greenwood song really does make you “proud to be an American.”
Ah, I’m gonna go hug a soldier, I’ll be back.
Stronger by Cimorelli
Personally, I’m not as big a fan of Cimorelli as I am the Gardiner Sisters- I’ve always liked the softer songs over pop covers, but this one was too good to pass up. It’s a frickin’ amazing song sung by beautiful women and it’s at the beach! What more can a man ask for?
Plus, it’s going to a noble cause, helping a paraplegic girl pay for her therapy. Aww…
Pennsylvania Style by SloppySecondzMusic
Yes, SSM has a dirty sounding name, get off of my back! Anyways, this song is perfect for me: Gangnam Style? Catchy. Pennsylvania? Home state. Pennsylvania Style: a catchy, hilarious song about my home state!
By the way, Philly girls totally look like that.
Google Translate Sings… All of Them by Malinda Kathleen Reese
I laugh my ass off every time I watch these. They’re frickin’ hilarious! Google Translate seems to have the translational powers of a mentally retarded, two month old pot-smoking chimpanzee in these videos; all of which are uproariously, piss-yourself hilarious. Here’s my three favorites:
Also, of somewhat relevant note, I used to think Iggy Azalea was a dude prior to watching the music video. Can you really blame me? “Iggy.” It’s such a guy name!
The People of Walmart by Jessica Frech
Jesus Christ these are frickin’ hilarious. Also, I like how she puts the disclaimer at the beginning of the videos assuring you she’s not making this shit up.
Also, I’m kind of uncomfortable with the idea of the White Witch living in the same dimension as us! She broke in man! The government’s hiding it! We’ve gotta stop her! She’s gonna kill us all!
Black Friday Night by Jessica Frech… Again
Whoah! A twofer! This one’s just hilarious, because my mother, aunt and grandmothers (from both sides of the family; they’re not lesbians you sickos!) do this same routine every single year. And I play this song for them before they set out to the Battle of Prices Round Sixteen. Also, I made my own version of the song before this one came out. Here it is, in all it’s terrible glory:
“Black Friday Night, We went shopping in the dark, We couldn’t find a spot to park, Black Friday Night…”
And that’s it. I like this version better, it’s more complete.
Shoppers of Walmart by SloppySecondzMusic… Also Again
Again with Walmart. You, you’ve got problems, Walmart. I worry about you. This one’s a lot dirtier than innocent Frechie’s, but it’s also hilarious and goddammit is it catchy!
A Soldier’s Memoir by Joe Bachman
This one’s a hell of a lot more solemn than the other songs here, but it’s important and I like it a lot. Plus, it’s important that we understand the fact that PTSD is serious and needs treatment. DO YOU FUCKING HEAR ME, OBAMA? REFORM THE GODDAMN VA NOW!
To any veterans reading this, thank-you for your service.
Comin’ Home by Dave Adams
Let’s get happy again, shall we? PTSD is sad, and I don’t want this to be a sad post. This one’s for all the veterans “comin’ home to America.” It’s also badass and catchy as hell. Some of those videos *sniffle* will make you wanna cry. I’m sorry, I sniffed some pepper, I’ll be back *runs off crying*
The Final Countdown Guitar Cover by Sylphid63
I was debating whether or not to include this one, since really the only thing changed is that the guy played an electric guitar over the original song, and the fact that the guy’s username sounds vaguely like “syphilis” but decided to include it anyway because it’s an awesome electric guitar, and who gives a shit about a username?
Here it is, in all its electric guitar glory:
Aer Vis by The Warrior Project
THIS is frickin’ badass as all hell. Just… words cannot even describe the sheer awesomeness of this song. An almost chilling opening monologue, followed by strategically placed electric guitar strings, an amazing beat and the badass Curtis LeMay providing a badass quote, this is by far the best original song on YouTube I have ever heard.
Continuing with 9/11 week here, I bring you Rick Resorcla, a badass across two centuries, but mostly this one. Badass of the Week- a site of far greater caliber than my blog- did an article on Rescorla a while back, but didn’t really mention his later heroics. Basically, he was the closest thing the human race has had to a credible future-seer since the dude who predicted Caesar’s assassination.
But what kind of history blog am I running here if I don’t touch on his backstory? He was born in Cornwall in 1939 and quit school to join the British Army when he was sixteen. You know what I was doing when I was sixteen? Writing this blog post. Whoa… that sounded a bit mind-screwy…
He did over the course of many years some badass shit with the Military Intelligence on Cyprus and in Rhodesia, uncovering asshole commie plots to make life miserable for people.
Then he wound up fighting commies in Angola and Zimbabwe in the British South African Police in the sixties. Basically, his entire early career was a cross between Skyfall and District 9 with less aliens and more communists.
Shortly thereafter he switched nationalities from James Bond to Jack Ryan and went to fight in the Vietnam War.
As Badass of the Week excellently demonstrated (if you want double the humor for this post, I’ll post a link to the article at the bottom for youse guys) while dudes over here, in America, were burning draft cards and bras and draft card bras, running to Canada with peace signs in the hippie buses to not go fight for their country, this fine man fucking volunteered to fight for us. As in completely optional, voluntary I-demand-you-give-me-commies-to-grease-my-rifle-barrel-with.
And yes, he fought in the Battle of la Drang; the first major battle in the war. The one where Sergeant Major Basil Plumley shouted “GENTLEMEN!!! PREPARE TO DEFEND YOURSELVES!!!” The one they based the movie We Were Soldiers on. Sadly, and much to his own chagrin, his story was omitted from that movie. I still recommend it though.
He also basically single-handedly saved the battalion from being overrun in a night ambush. Also, his call sign was Hard Corps One Six, which means he was essentially the semi-inspiration for this song:
As I said, Badass of the Week goes into much greater detail on his military career than I wish to here. I wanna talk about his 9/11 heroics.
He… how do you say this? He took shit fucking seriously, working for Morgan Stanley/Dean Witter in corporate security in the World Trade Center.
After the 1988 bombing of Pan Am 103 over Scotland…
… he got worried about a terrorist attack on the World Trade Center. So, he called in his old friend from Rhodesia who was trained in counterterrorism, Daniel Hill, to assess its security. They also probably bullshitted about some battle they got involved in in a city that started with a “B.”
Rescorla asked Hill how he would attack the building if he wanted to bring it down, and the two went on a trip down to the parking garage, without getting stopped by any security, to assess the towers’ weakpoints.
The spot Hill picked was a very easily reached load bearing column and basically said that if he were a terrorist, he’d shove a bunch of dynamite up a truck’s ass, ram the pillar, run away and set it off.
In light of this, Rescorla and Hill wrote a report to the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey, insisting they needed more security down there.
But, the Port Authority gave them a big, fat wad of bureaucracy and said it was too damn expensive.
Cut ahead to 1993 and they ate their words. As you know, the exact scenario Hill predicted happened, only it didn’t take down the tower.
Rescorla, saying “fuck the authorities, they’re hopeless!” decided to take matters into his own hands and hired Hill as a security consultant to analyze the building’s security. In case you haven’t noticed, he was really determined to not have shit hit the fan on his watch, or at least have a plan of action if it did.
So- and no arrests had been made as of this point- Rescorla deduced that the bombings were probably planned by Muslims, either Palestinians or Iraqis. Hill went full undercover and fucking infiltrated the fucking Muslim religion after letting his beard grow out and attend services at several mosques in New Jersey under the guise of an anti-American radical, speaking fluent Arabic to flawlessly infiltrate them, probably constantly humming Lee Greenwood’s “God Bless the U.S.A.” under his breath so the whole thing wouldn’t backfire and actually turn him into a radical anti-American.
If that doesn’t motivate you to fight your enemies, nothing will.
So Hill- legally not even a mall cop– got followers of the radical Sheikh Omar Abdel Rahman convicted of the bombing.
You know, one of the lovely things about real life is that it’s so much more insane than fiction, so I’ll tell you right now that I made approximately zero percent of the following up.
After the bombing, Rescorla thought that Morgan Stanley should move out of the Trade Center because he thought it was still a prime terrorist target, and thought the next one might involve planes.
Again though, his words went ignored, although he did get everyone from the top executives to the lowly cubicle drones to practice evacuation drills every three months. Rescorla understandably thought that the authorities were fucking useless after they failed to listen to him in 1990, so he didn’t believe first responders would be very reliable in an emergency. As such, he planned surprise fire drills at random intervals to keep everyone on their toes for the real thing.
Obviously, all of the higher-up executives despised him for getting in the way of their work with his super-secret birthday surprise party fire drills, but those fucks should be grateful now. Also, he timed them, as if he couldn’t get any more badass.
Also, Rescorla and Hill were no fan of the police response at Columbine. Honestly, they seriously said this: The police were sitting outside while kids were getting killed. They should have put themselves between the perpetrators and the victims. That was abject cowardice.” Rescorla felt that if he and Hill were younger, they “could have flown to Colorado, gone in that building, and ended that shit before the law did.”
When the first plane hit the North Tower on September 11th, Rescorla was just sitting in his office, probably fiddling with a pencil or brandishing his Bowie knife when he dramatically turned to see the explosion just across the street.
His higher-ups ordered him not to use his evacuation plan, because, well, he said it best over a quick phone call to Dan Hill, who was watching it on TV: “The dumb sons of bitches told me not to evacuate. They said it’s just Building One. I told them I’m getting my people the fuck out of here.”
This not-so retired badass said “fuck that shit” and jumped into action, his crazy Nostradamus shit suddenly not so crazy as he evacuated two-thousand and seven hundred people out of the tower within seventeen minutes of the North Tower being hit. All those people were long out before the South Tower was hit. His executive-annoying antics had lowered the casualty rate by almost 3,000.
He sang old Cornish folk songs to calm the people as he evacuated them, and gave a tearful goodbye to his wife, saying “Stop crying. I have to get these people out safely. If something should happen to me, I want you to know I’ve never been happier. You made my life.”
One of his friends- not Hill- said that everyone had to get out NOW, Rescorla refused. “As soon as I make sure everyone else is out!” he assured, running back up.
He was last seen on the 10th floor heading up, shortly before the South Tower collapsed at 9:59am.
He died saving innocent people’s lives. He fought for us in Vietnam; he died for us on September 11th. Let that sink in.
God Bless, and…
You are all disgraces to your country.
I have never watched Loose Change. I never intend to; I already know it’s an assload of bullshit. However, I have met a person who has seen it. He’s an asshole. A complete and utter jackass to me, solely because I’m a level-minded conservative. Seriously. He’s the anti-me. An ultra-liberal, conspiracy theorist and a NEW Atheist- I find the need to BOLDLY EXLCAIM THE “NEW” PART BECAUSE MOST REGULAR ATHEISTS AREN’T ASSHOLES AND ARE ACTUALLY RATHER AMIABLE. He also thinks the U.S. didn’t land on the Moon, but that’s another Debunker Files topic for another time. But anyways, he seemed to be rather… not clear on his reasons why the government would even want to do something like this.
That’s the big issue: forget if they did it for a few paragraphs; why would they even want to. What do they gain from it?
“Oil, man!” says Dylan Avery, the nongender who directed Loose Change. I say “nongender” because he’s not a man, but he’s not even manly enough to be a woman, for Kim Campbell and Joan of Arc have proven that woman have balls, dammit. So, he’s nongendered.
Well, Dylan, you’re wrong. Where does the United States get its oil from? Let’s look at data from Energy Trends Insider, shall we?
So, we’ve actually taken less oil from Iraq since the invasion, and Afghanistan is such a loser it didn’t even make the chart. The article also states that the all time high for U.S. imports of Iraqi oil was in 2001. Right… before… the attacks…. Also, somehow we took on an assload of Texas Tea from Colombia, completely out of left field. Hmm…
Also, what sane government would purposely bomb its own military nexus? Did you think of that, Dylan. Even the most psychopathic loon North Korea has to offer wouldn’t bomb their main military command center. Why would we? It’s shooting ourselves in the foot; it accomplishes nothing. I thought your conspiracy guys were supposed to be cunning…
Alright, now that I’ve poked a goddamn sinkhole in that theory, what’s your next point, Dylan
“Uh, well, you’re stupid! And the towers went down in a controlled demolition!”
Who rigged them up?
“Uh… the military! Yeah, they sound evil enough… they did it!”
What part of it? Honestly, these are people whose entire job is to protect their country, not kill 3,000 of its citizens! Besides, we all know that disgruntled military members only hijack tanks…
And even if they managed to swing a few disgruntled psycho soldiers- or regular, brainwashed Marines (oh, that sounds like a good plot for a spy movie. Somebody do that!) over to rig up the buildings, how the fuck did nobody notice? Hmm? They were punching holes in the building for a controlled demolition! Do you know how many people worked in the Twin Towers daily? One hundred thousand. Holy shit; I see maybe a quarter that many people in my entire day on public transit, counting out the window.
But, it could be done, right? I mean, sure our guys have to work under cover of darkness and hide every last bit of bomb and torn out wall by day, but sure, why not? They’d only need over eight thousand charges, right? It took four-thousand to bring down the J.L. Hudson department store. Those guys, even with important things like the building not being full of people and the operation being legal, took seven fucking months to rig it up right. Building demolition isn’t just “shit man, let’s just put a firecracker in this corner and a 37 kiloton nuke in that one”; that’s precise shit there! One misplaced charge and you accidentally bring down two buildings, but we’ll talk about that in a second.
And nobody notices. Ever. Honestly? Sometimes, when I have deja vu, I seriously ponder if my entire life isn’t just a simulation with all the people being robots! You’re telling me that nobody out of one hundred thousand people was even the slightest bit weirded out by the… different drywall. Or the fact that their desk is a bit more slanted than they remember, because one asshole brainwashed jarhead bumped into it while running the detonator coil back to Evil Headquarters.
Nobody notices all the trucks with detonators and charges sticking out of them sitting in the back lot. Nobody from one of the neighboring buildings videotapes- even just out of curiosity- the workers shuffling in and out of the building like the soulless pod people they are, carrying big, bulky bombs in their arms. In a world where we take pictures of our cats and treat them like Van Gogh pieces, I find this wholly, completely, fucking retardedly unrealistic.
Security notices nothing. Video cameras are all glitching out. Bomb sniffing dogs need to get their sniffers checked.
“But Philly, all those people that could have stopped it were paid into silence!” whines Avery.
Oh really? Who the fuck on this planet has enough money to pay off FEMA, NIST, American Society of Civil Engineers, Popular Mechanics and the motherfucking New York City Fire Department, and everyone else involved?
Come on! Let’s assume they all go by my standards- my lowest, realistic standards- on what I would need for silence: 500 million.
So, let’s whup out our calculators here and… what? You didn’t bring yours? FINE! I’ll do all the fucking work myself! You people are so ungrateful!
Alright, 120,000 civil engineers- I find it of note that that’s more people than worked in the Trade Centers- 7,500 FEMA employees, 2,900 NIST employees, fifty top-ranking NYFD officials willing to let their coworkers get brutally burned to death and buried under thousands of pounds of skyscraper and ballpark estimate a hundred guys at Popular Mechanics- just the big names involved- and that rounds us out to 65,275,000,000,000.
Also known as: HOLY SHIT BRICKS A FUCKTON OF MONEY!!!! That makes the national debt of 17 trillion look like goddamn peanuts! So, no Avery, the government could not have funded this, even if they really wanted to.
“But the towers did go down in a controlled demolition! There’s no other way for it to have happened! The towers were designed to take a plane crash! And no other office building ever collapsed due to fire! And you’re still stupid!”
Well, that may be, but you’re still wrong. See, the Twin Towers were built to withstand an impact from a Boeing 707- the most common airliner of the day- and a fuel-starved, terribly lost one innocently trying to find its way back to the airport…
.. and not, say, a fully-loaded 757 fresh from Logan International on their way across the country. Also, no office building was ever left without water on it for that long. This was mostly because that would need a really long ass hose. They never had a chance to fight fire with… water.
Really the only thing they could do was spit on it, and even then the NYFD was kind of swamped bringing people down with no elevators to do even that. Also, the plane’s initial impact killed the sprinklers, in cold blood. Poor smoke detectors never even had a chance. Never forget.
“But Philly,” Avery whines, “the Empire State Building got hit by a bomber in WWII, and it survived just fine!”
“W-Well what about the no stand down order? From NORAD? Hmm? They were clearly in on it!”
Actually, before 9/11, NORAD didn’t even monitor American airspace. Their job was kind of to make sure Russia didn’t fuck America with missiles, not worry about aircraft hijackings. And they DID send up two jets, to intercept Flight 93. That’s another story for another time, but I’ll touch upon it a bit.
Lieutenant Heather “Lucky” Penney was scrambled in her F-16 Fighting Falcon with very clear orders: fuck Flight 93 with any weapons she had, at this point confirmed hijacked. Problems? Yeah, she had no weapons with which to fuck the hijacked aircraft. No missiles, no guns. Her jet was a declawed kitten in the realm of air combat. Her plan of action? Make good on Worf’s eternal words and ram the damn thing.
Thankfully, she and the other badass pilot in the air at the time, Colonel Marc Sasseville, didn’t have to go kamikaze on Flight 93. The passenger revolt made sure of that. Which brings me right into my next interruption from Dylan. What is it now, Dylan?
“Everyone on Flight 93 was in on it too!”
You sick fuck! Haven’t you ever heard or read about the phone calls? Todd Beamer and the other passengers!
“But there was no wreckage! No wreckage, no plane!”
Allow me to let my pictures do the talking:
“What about the Pentagon? Obvious missile hit! There’s not even any wing marks!”
Well, I think this video sums it up rather nicely:
Sorry it wasn’t very funny. Or sound-y.
Is that all?
“No! What about World Trade Center 7? That wasn’t hit by any planes and it collapsed!”
Uh, it spent eight goddamn hours taking a shower with debris from the North Tower like a meteor storm. Of course it’s gonna collapse after taking that kind of punishment.
“And the NYFD said ‘pull it down’ right before it collapsed!”
What kind of talk is that? They did not! They said “pull it!” Meaning “get out, the building’s unstable!” Not “evil, evil, evil, blow it up with our comical pump detonator while twirling our moustaches! Nyah!”
Actually, now that I think of it, didn’t you have a thing on Loose Change’s website a while ago saying flat out that this was all fake, and that you made it all up wholecloth? Yeah, I’m pretty sure you did. Here, I’ll check it out…
Hmm, well that’s odd. Let me refresh it…
Hey, Dylan, why isn’t this thing showing up?
“Uh, no reason?”
Is that a question or an answer?
“Do you want 500 million dollars?”
HOLY FUCK!!! You did it! You caused 9/11!!!
“Well, technically I just hired al Qaeda to do the dirty work for me, but hey, 500 millis, man!”
You sick fuck! How dare you! Do you think I’ll accept that?
No! I refuse! FOX! CNN! MSNBC! New York Times! TIME! EVERYONE GET YOUR ASSES OVER HERE NOW!!!
“NOOOO! We’ve worked far to long at this for you to fuck it all up now! Philly, prepare to die!”
What are you doing? Put the gun down!
“No! I’ll have to kill you now, now that you’ve exposed us!”
Quick, Avery! Look! A news crew! Bask in the attention you so desperately crave!
“This is CNN! Dylan, what’s going on here?”
“Uh, nothing. Everything’s fine.”
Like lightning, I draw my radio. “Hey, Lt. Heather, I’m gonna need air support and I’m gonna need it fast.”
“Who did you just call?” Dylan demands.
Whoo-hoo! Disaster averted! Hi-five, guys! I’m gonna go watch Non-Stop now, okay? Here’s some links to the fine fucks whose research I shamelessly stole but honorably credit for this article:
I be awful tired, so pardon the shortness. Also the atrocious grammar in that first clause. I am awful tired. Allow me to be frank, fuck you Obama. You are a cock-sucking hypocrite. I am currently watching your speech and you claim you’re assembling a “broad Coalition” to fight ISIS. Coming from an administration who just got done blaming Bush for every single problem you’ve ever encountered, you have a lot of nerve to use the word “Coalition” to describe your approach here. Hey, since you’ve shown so much nerve so far, why not just add in “of the willing?” And I don’t believe you when you say ground forces won’t be involved. You’ve promised us things before. You have broken those promises. And an air campaign? Reminds me of this:
ISIS is undeniably a horribly evil group. We have to stop them before they commit genocide, or finish the one they’ve already started against the Christians. I fully support military intervention in Iraq for this; after the Holocaust, we promised “NEVER. AGAIN.” I live by that mantra. But seriously? After promising you wouldn’t send us back into that shithole, after obliterating the Bush administration over Iraq, and now you have the nerve to send in a MOTHERFUCKING COALITION!?!?!?!?! How dare you! Why’d you make the promise in the first place, huh? You know you can’t keep promises in anything involving politics or combat!
You’re a sleazy, lying disgrace to everyone who had a part in founding this nation, and I am ashamed to call you my leader. You’re a lying liar who lies about lying. Liar. You sit on a throne of lies!
You are a failure as President, and I am willing to bet history books a hundred years from now will think of you as such. Whoo! Thank felt great! I apologize for the political stuff here; I’m just royally pissed off right now. Some time this week: the mother of all Debunker Files on a certain event that happened this week, fourteen years ago. All right, now that that’s out of my system, I’m bailing out for the night. Goodbye asshole!
Now, don’t lose your shit: this isn’t a creepypasta; it’s an urban legend. Tomato, tomato right? That sounds much better spoken than written. I especially like this story for two reasons: one, it’s set in my hometown, and two, Morey’s Piers in Wildwood made a kickass ride about it.
The experiment was conducted during the height of World War II, when Nazi Germany was kicking our teeth in with U-boats. Instead of, y’know, blowing up the U-boats, we decided to jump ahead a century and make our ships invisible to radar.
But, they were taking it a step further: instead of faceting ships like normal future countries, they decided to take the decidedly mad-scientist route and just make them straight up invisible, using some good old fashioned, Einsteinian unified field theory to bend light itself around the ship.
So, all of these scientist egghead guys figured that Philadelphia Naval Shipyard was the perfect location to conduct experiments “for science!”
They rigged the USS Eldridge, a Cannon class destroyer escort that has a name eerily similar to “eldritch”, with the necessary equipment, which I’m assuming involved a lot of mirrors and smoke machines, with maybe a few magicians onboard.
Testing began on a summer day in 1943, much like this one, and it was sort of maybe successful to a certain degree, with the ship almost completely invisible, but a dead giveaway greenish fog taking its place.
Then, things went FUBAR. When the ship reappeared, guys were throwing their guts up left and right, with some sailors actually fused directly to the ship, and one poor guy wound up on the deck below where he had been before, which must’ve been really confusing for him when he tried to find the bathroom. Some guys just went insane, as in “gone mad from seeing a Lovecraftian abomination” bonkers.
Now, the Navy was slacking off that summer, because they did a shoddy job at recalibrating this thing, but went ahead with the experiment anyway on October 28, despite multiple warnings from a scientist claiming it would “send us back to the stone age!”
This time, the poor ship was definitely invisible, but that’s because she wasn’t there anymore. The Eldridge up and disappeared in a puff of blue light, proof that a wizard at odds with the magicians aboard the vessel was out to kill them and everyone associated with them.
She was seen, however, by the crew of the Liberty ship Andrew Furuseth, which must’ve been really odd for the crew having a ship just materialize next to them. Also, it was said that she went ten seconds back in time during the trip before returning to Philly, because who doesn’t love the City of Brotherly Love?
There were serious side effects; ten times worse than the side effects you see on those medicine commercials. Guys were physically fused to bulkheads, inside out, understandably gone mad or just fucking vanished. Later, conspiracy nuts, in true conspiracy nut fashion, claimed that “the government” brainwashed the surviving crewmembers so that they could maniacally keep the experiment a secret.
Much later, in 1955, the amazingly named Carlos Miguel Allende would later retrieve newspaper articles and personal experience as a crewmember on the Furuseth as proof that the Navy “IS HIDING SOMETHING OUT THERE, AND IT IS GONNA SEND US BACK TO THE STONE AGE!!”
He contacted the also amazingly named paranormal researcher Morris K. Jessup about the experiment. A little information on Jessup; he wrote a book called The Case for the UFO, which was a case for the existence of UFOs (duh…) He thought that antigravity or electromagnets could be used to achieve spaceflight, and probably despised Wernher von Braun for limiting spaceflight research into horribly inefficient rocketry.
He also thought Einstein’s Unified Field Theory was critical to spaceflight. So, basically he predicted half of the Philly Experiment without even trying to.
Carlos sent him a letter, which, as stated, had newspaper clippings as proof. He said how Einstein had suppressed the Unified Field Theory because “the world wasn’t ready for it.” Riiiiight, just like the water powered car…
Jessup replied via a postcard, asking for further evidence, since he was a man of proof, much like myself. A few months later, the not so awesomely named “Carl M. Allen” replied that he couldn’t provide any more details, but that hypnosis might help him recall something. Jessup smartly and probably correctly assumed that this guy was a loon and cut contact with his ass.
However, Jessup’s story wasn’t finished yet. Like the main character in a sci-fi thriller, his story only got creepier.
According to the reliable James W. Moeseley- who exposed numerous hoaxes– Jessup was contacted in 1957 by the Office of Naval Research, asking him to look at a package they had received. He sped over there like lightning, probably shooting himself out of a railgun, and was shocked to find that the package was his book, heavily annotated in the corner and sent, I shit you not, marked as “Happy Easter” to the ONR.
These annotations were written in pink ink, by three people: Jemi, Mr. A and Mr. B. These three unimaginatively named people discussed two people living in outer space, probably greys and pod people, and use all SorTs of Unusual caPItalization and Dumb punctuations, discussing Jessup’s assumptions and probably taunting him with cryptic clues about “just how little he really knows.” They seemed to know a lot about the Philly Experiment, suggesting they were directly involved or were omniscient space aliens.
Jessup figured, based on the handwriting, that Mr. A was in fact Carlos Allende/Carl Allen. Spookily, the return address on Allende’s letter to Jessup was in fact and abandoned farmhouse.
Then, Jessup’s story goes downhill rapidly. None of his follow up books sold well, and in 1958 his wife left him. He was depressed and unstable when he traveled. Returning to his home state of Florida, he was involved in a serious car accident, adding to his depression while he slowly recovered. On April 20, 1959, he was found dead, ruled as a suicide.
Sad, and kind of awesome story. Did it happen, though?
Okay, not as you would think. The USS Eldridge, undeniably a real ship, wasn’t commissioned until August 27th in 1943, and around the time of the second experiment was doing something along the lines of this in the Second World War:
However, the USS Engstrom, docked right beside the Eldridge in ’43, was subjected to an experiment in making ships invisible to magnetically fused mines, using an electromagnetic field. Sound familiar? British ships used it widely later in the war, such as the still-afloat museum ship HMS Belfast, and the technique is still in use today, because nobody wants their billion dollar, state of the art missile cruiser blown up by a derelict Nazi mine.
Mix that story with that of the USS Timmerman, who underwent an experiment on its generator, with a higher-frequency genny producing wacky corona discharge- although nobody was hurt- and you have this story almost to a T.
And the Eldridge could, indeed have “teleported” from Philly to Norfolk, via a top secret weapons system we had to keep hidden from the Nazis at all costs: the Chesapeake and Delaware Canal. With stupid jetpack Hitler’s U-boats ravaging the eastern seaboard, the military moved all its ships through this secret passageway down to Norfolk. So, that’s a possibility. A less glamorous and fused-to-my-ship possibility, but a possibility.
And all of the veterans of the Eldridge told a Philly newspaper in 1999 that their ship was never even homeported in Philadelphia; just built there. Not to mention the fact that the Eldridge’s entire World War II action report is completely public and makes absolutely no mention of any wacky experiments, including the remarks section of the ’43 deck log.
Basically, this story is mostly a mashup of several other far less paranormal naval experiments, with a spooky element involving a broken man, three psychos and the Office of Naval Research.