In a move that has sent the global tin-foil hat industry into a frenzy of production, the US government has declassified four fresh videos of unidentified flying objects performing aerial gymnastics that would make a Red Arrow pilot weep with envy. Meanwhile, across the pond, UK defence chiefs have been spotted clutching their heads in their hands, presumably assessing the threat to their remaining shreds of credibility.
Let us examine the evidence, shall we? The footage, greyer than a November sky and shakier than a minister’s excuse for a botched rail contract, shows a cluster of objects darting about like particularly audacious mosquitoes on steroids. One video, seemingly filmed through the bottom of a jam jar, features a spherical orb that is, according to the Pentagon, ‘trans-medium’ — a fancy way of saying it can plunge into the ocean without getting a ticket for reckless aquatic behaviour.
But let us not get bogged down in details. The real story here is not the objects themselves, which are presumably either a) alien probes, b) secret US military hardware, or c) a confused flock of pigeons with reflective plumage. No, the real story is the spectacle of the British Ministry of Defence attempting to look serious while staring at visions of little green men. One imagines a Whitehall briefing room, filled with men in suits who have not seen the sun since 1997, debating whether this constitutes a ‘level 4 threat to national security’ or merely a ‘moderate inconvenience to the procurement budget’.
We have heard the obligatory denials, of course. No evidence of extraterrestrial life, they intone, in that voice that suggests they are not entirely convinced their own haircuts are terrestrial. But then why the urgency? Why the sudden declassification? Could it be that the government is preparing us for the Great Reveal, or is this just a cunning ploy to distract from the potholes that are swallowing small dogs whole?
I put it to you that these videos are as real as the Prime Minister’s integrity. And let us be honest, if aliens have travelled billions of miles to watch us fumble about with Brexit and reality TV, they are either extraordinarily patient or deeply disappointed. One can only hope they come bearing a universal translator for bureaucratic doublespeak.
In the meantime, I suggest we all invest in a sturdy pair of binoculars and a healthy scepticism. For if the government admits they cannot identify these objects, what else are they failing to identify? The economy? The housing crisis? The precise location of Boris Johnson’s conscience?
Until then, keep your eyes on the skies, your hands on your wallets, and your sanity in a lead-lined box. The truth is out there. But it is probably late for its appointment.
