Captain Disillusion

One of the most popular and recognizable skeptical faces on YouTube, Cap­tain Dillusion (CD) was created by inde­pendent filmmaker Alan Melik­djanian. He’s been producing YouTube videos since 2008, featuring his bright yellow track suit and striking silver face paint.

Captain Disillusion focuses on investigating paranormal videos by ex­plaining how such effects can be achieved. To prove his point, Captain Dis­illusion recreates the paranormal event with common film editing techniques and tools.

Melikdjanian’s lighthearted but thorough approach has gained him more than 23,000 subscribers to his YouTube channel (www.youtube.com/user/CaptainDisillusion) and 3.2 million views. As of late 2011, you can subscribe to his videos via iTunes as well (http://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/captain-disillusion/id461797766). Cap­tain Disillusion videos post only every few months due to his high production standards, but Melikdjanian has re­cently started a series of “Quick D” videos for quick hit debunks, which post more frequently.

CD has taken on some of the most popular images in popular culture, in­cluding the face on Mars and the “ghost” in the Three Men and a Baby movie. He’s also tackled persistent viral videos, such as the penguin slapping the other penguin into the water—yes, it’s cute, but it’s an obvious fake and penguin wings don’t move like that anyway.

“Love with your heart. Use your head for everything else.”—Captain Disillusion’s sign-off

Skeptically Pwnd

If you need to let off some steam, Skeptically Pwnd might be where you want to be. There are plenty of groups providing sober, reasoned inquiry into paranormal claims. You can listen to academic and intellectual discussions on a wide variety of topics. Or you can go to Skeptically Pwned’s YouTube channel (www.youtube.com/user/skepticallypwnd/videos) and watch the Ghost Hunters get kicked in the crotch.

Skeptically Pwned is the creation of three skeptical comedians: John Rael, Matt David, and Jen Brown. In addition to some judicious kicking, they also created the “Shit Skeptics Say” series—a trilogy of embarrassingly familiar high-speed catch-phrases skeptics swap among each other regularly. The Skeptically Pwned videos probably won’t convince any non-skeptics to change their views, but they might help skeptics decompress after a day in the trenches.

Richard Wiseman

Richard Wiseman is a professor of psychology at the University of Hertfordshire in the United Kingdom and a former magician. He’s also the author of eleven books investigating subjects such as paranormal abilities, self-help books, and the peculiarities of human behavior. He also has a popular YouTube channel (www.youtube.com/user/Quirkology) boasting 58,000+ subscribers and thirty million views.

In his videos, Wiseman draws on his background as a magician and focuses primarily on mind games and optical illusions. His understanding of misdirection and how the human brain receives and processes information provides sharp insight into how easy we can be to trick. Wiseman’s ready sense of humor make his videos enjoyable and engaging even to people outside the skeptic community. The videos range from thirty seconds in length to about three minutes, so new viewers don’t have to invest much be­fore they get hooked. More information about Richard Wiseman is available on his website (http://richardwiseman.wordpress.com/).

Tim Minchin

Tim Minchin is an award-winning British-Australian musician and comedian who is gradually developing a fan base in the United States after having developed a following in the United Kingdom and Australia over the last ten years. He is an accomplished composer and pianist, and he is best known for his comedic songs dealing with skepticism (“If You Open Your Mind Too Much Your Brain Will Fall Out”) and atheism (“The Good Book”). In 2011, he released an animated video of his ten-minute beat poem “Storm” describing a meal shared with a New Age alt-med practitioner. The video for “Storm” is available at www.youtube.com/user/stormmovie.

YouTube is filled with unofficial videos and bootleg recordings, but Minchin’s official channel is available at www.youtube.com/user/timminchin/videos. Many of his videos (along with his tour dates and store) are also available on his website (http://www.timminchin.com/media/), including his popular song about the child molestation cover-up in the Catholic church. (Warning: Tim does not pull any punches with the language.)

Scam School

Scam School is the brainchild of American magician Brian Brushwood and Internet television network Revi­sion3. In each episode, Brush­wood demonstrates and exposes street scams, bar tricks, and other types of close magic. The show’s advertising promises that you’ll never have to pay for a drink again, but it also teaches you what to watch for to avoid being pranked.

Brushwood is an award-winning touring magician known for his bizarre tricks, including fire-eating, putting nails through his nose or hands, and mind-reading. His website with details about upcoming shows and his books is at http://shwood.com. The Scam School video channel is at www.youtube.com/user/scamschool. Scam School has been producing episodes weekly since 2008, and there are more than two hundred on YouTube now. The videos are roughly ten to fifteen minutes in length and include a demonstration and breakdown of classic bar tricks and other stunts.

Brushwood is also host of the Weird Things podcast, which discusses supernatural and other strange news items.

Death by Puppets

Death by Puppets holds to the philosophy that most of life’s problems are easier solved with puppets. They produce short videos with a skeptical flavor, with a generous helping of sarcasm and parody. And, of course, puppets.

Subjects so far have ranged from a support group for the reality-challenged and a restaurant specializing in quackery to a mockumercial featuring an enigmatic chupacabra. They posted their first video on April 1, 2012, and have been releasing videos every few weeks. Maria Walters founded Death by Puppets by bringing together the talents of artists in the skeptical community. Charles Pillsbury, puppet builder and lead puppeteer, builds puppets as needed based on scripts by Steve DeGroof of the Tree Lobsters webcomic.

Skeptics’ Guide to the Universe

The Skeptics’ Guide to the Universe (SGU) is one of the most popular skeptical podcasts. The five members of the Rogue’s Gallery have taught a lot of people about skeptical and scientific issues. One of them, filmmaker Jay Novella, has also begun producing comedic videos.

SGU Video Productions (www.youtube.com/user/TheSkepticsGuide/videos) is probably best known for a two-part parody of Ghost Hunters, highlighting their paranormal skills in drain cleaning and sump pump installation. The other videos satirize targets such as alien videos, ghost photos, and psychics who talk to the dead. The videos range from five to ten minutes each, and they are based on topics pulled from podcast episodes—not exactly a limiting format, as the Skep­tic’s Guide podcast is thorough and operates in a target-rich environment.

Qualia Soup

Some of the debates in which skeptics find themselves can be dry or esoteric. Those discussions can be a little inaccessible for people new to skepticism—not to mention non-skeptics unaccustomed to hearing scientific data at all.

A secular humanist and artist in the United Kingdom who goes by the name Qualia Soup has taken steps to bridge the gap between detail and accessibility. He creates animated breakdowns of common topics brought up with non-skeptics and theists—for example, being good without God, irreducible complexity, and the burden of proof.

The videos average about ten minutes each and are narrated in a clear and engaging manner. Those who have been involved in skepticism for a while will be familiar with most of the subject matter, but they are good primers for new skeptics and handy to show to non-skeptics.

Mr. Deity

Mr. Deity is a long-running series of comedic and satirical short films examining different aspects of religion. It stars Mr. Deity (the universe’s creator, who has little understanding of human existence); his assistant, Larry; his son, Jesus; and Lucifer (“Lucy” for short), Mr. Deity’s ex-girlfriend.

The Mr. Deity videos (www.youtube.com/user/misterdeity/videos) are seven to nine minutes long each and cover insoluble religious topics, such as the amount of evil allowed in the world, the meaning of prayer, and free will.

Mr. Deity is the creation of Brian Keith Dalton, who also stars, directs, and wrote the opening theme song. He decided to create a series of short films to express his views about God and religion. The series was a success, leading to a deal with Sony Pictures Enter­tainment to bring Mr. Deity to HBO. The deal eventually fell through, but Mr. Deity has continued on YouTube into its fifth season. Seasons three and four are available on DVD at http://mrdeity.com as is a soundtrack CD.

Mr. Deity is an engaging, humorous series for anyone comfortable with questioning religious issues. The more devout may struggle with the issues raised or find the whole series blasphemous.

This article touched on just a few popular YouTube channels. There are plenty of others with more being added all the time:

Media Skeptic (www.youtube.com/user/mediaskeptic): This new channel takes a critical look at the tricks and techniques used by the news media and by politicians to sway public opinion. Only a few videos so far but worth keeping an eye on.

Geologic Records (www.youtube.com/user/geologicrecords): Geologic Records is the home of noted skeptic and musician George Hrab. You will find music videos and performances of his skepticism-tinged songs and interviews.

Healthyaddict (www.youtube.com/user/healthyaddict): Healthyaddict is the online handle for Ashley Paramore, development director for the Secular Student Alliance (SSA). Her videos cover her current work with the SSA and her previous work as chair for Students for Freethought at The Ohio State University.

Sick Science (www.youtube.com/user/SteveSpanglerScience): Steve Spangler is a science writer and educator who has created short (less than two minutes each) videos illustrating do-it-yourself science projects, including making drag-racing cups and light bulbs.

Symphony of Science (www.youtube.com/user/melodysheep): John Boswell takes talks from noted scientists and skeptics, adds a soundtrack, and auto-tunes them together into music videos.

Skepchick (www.youtube.com/user/rkwatson): Rebecca Watson is the founder of the Skepchick website and cohost of the popular Skeptics’ Guide to the Universe podcast. Her more recent videos have discussed topics such as homeopathy, then-presidential candidate Michele Bachmann’s comments about the human papillomavirus vaccines, and so-called “chemtrails.”

Mediums have been around for millennia. I can’t think of another profession where research on the subject yields results like “See also: confidence trick.” For as long as there have been people claiming to be mediums, there have been people like composer Damon Martin to call them out. His latest Traumatosis album, Cold Reading, takes the listener on a journey that details the deceptive techniques used by people who claim an ability to talk with the dead. This subject offends Martin on many levels, and he took a very thoughtful approach to getting his message across. The listener knows that this is not an ordinary concept album from the very first track, “Secrets of the Spirit Cabinet.” Themes from that introduction can be found throughout the album. Whispers, various sound effects, and multi-layered instrumentation set the stage for what is to come. The album, dark and moody, spills forth songs of loss, hope, and betrayal at the hands of someone claiming to be something he’s not. The eventual outcome seen in track nine has the subject of the album expecting his payment for sharing his God-given gifts with the unwitting customer who only wanted a bridge to lost family members. The final song, “Six People,” brings it home with an acoustic guitar and rousing vocals. Martin’s hard rock past is evident in many of the songs, but he takes that foundation to a whole new level. Cold Reading is a concept album intended to be heard in a single sitting, not piecemeal during a commute. Each song builds upon the last, and multiple listenings reveal new layers of sound and music. Skeptic and musician Matthew A. Kacar Jr. interviewed Martin about his new project.

The full interview is available at http://artistconnectionpodcast.libsyn.com/webpage/episode-086-damon-martin.

Where are you from, and how did you get to where you are now?

I’m from Scotland, North of Scotland, Aberdeenshire. I’ve always been into music. I was given a keyboard when I was about four years old by my mother. I used to sing for just hours and hours. I was just playing around with my sound and teaching myself chords and just doing it my own way. I had about three of these keyboards. they were just little cheap things that my mom bought me because I kept clogging up the speakers with pancakes. I was a bit of a chubby child, I think. I have no idea what I was doing. I was just going by feel which is kind of what I still do. My studio isn’t great. It’s kind of all about just how it sounds and how it makes you feel.

Thinking about Cold Reading, was there a pivotal moment in your life where you started to question things? Are you skeptical by nature about certain things? Do you like to know how things work?

Yeah. I think really analytically, especially about myself. And so, I’m a very self-reflective type but yeah, I want to know the truth all the time. Except for the weather—I like to be surprised with the weather; everything else I want to know. I’m an atheist. I think that I’ve always been atheist. Obviously in Britain, a Christian country, we have to have prayers in our schools. Sometimes I would go home and believe in God and sometimes I would go home and I wouldn’t. There’s a lot to find out about all this stuff. The more I knew, the more angry I would get when people would abuse others with supernatural acquaintances and mediums. That sickens me, absolutely just turns me off completely. I think it’s the most corrupt, most hideous con that anybody can do. It’s bad enough to be conning people in any way, but you have people who have just lost their children, and then you have mediums pretending to be their children and pretending to talk to their children—that absolutely makes me want to vomit.

How do they stay in business? How is that still allowed?

A lot of these TV psychics are really litigious and take anybody to court who criticizes them. That’s why I’ve never named a name because it’s so dangerous. I don’t want to get my life ruined by litigation. If you said so and so is not psychic, they can take you to court and often successfully sue you.

It feels like it is harder to be a skeptic because it’s a lot easier to just say “I have faith.” At the end of the day, the more you question either psychics or mediums or even a priest, it’s back on you. On your track “As the Meter Ticks,” that’s what is happening, “I’m a vessel. Don’t question me.” What do you say at one point? “Don’t interrupt; I may never get this vision back.”

Yes, that’s it. Yeah, that’s exactly it. I decided to write that track because it starts off with kind of this arrogant, “I don’t see the world the way you do.” There’s kind of a superiority complex which is, I think, why most of them get into it. It gets them a position of power and a position of that charisma and, you know, glory. I mean they get to be a rock star. We’ve only done one performance of this album and it was a local one. It was mainly friends and family and stuff and it was a tremendous one.

You played it at the Tunnels (a music venue in Aberdeen). It sounds like the perfect place to perform Cold Reading.

Yeah, it was good fun. I don’t like to be limited and I really like to mess with the audience as well. It’s a horrifying show sometimes. I did a magic routine. I thought that would be quite appropriate where I stick this big nine-inch needle in my arm and that went down really well. It was really uncomfortable. I made the audience as uncomfortable as I possibly could, for them, not for me. It was great. Yeah, I think I stopped in silence for a whole minute before I even began and people just watched me and I didn’t say a word. But at the end, it was amazing. Then, it was amazing praise. It was just heartwarming. It kind of made everything feel so worthwhile and then fun, praise that I don’t deserve. It was a wonderful evening.

I’m sure. So what’s next for you?

There was a lot leading up to this performance we just did and so kind of taking it easy. I’ve got a lot of projects. I’m composing a piano concerto just now which is using the same kind of artistic approach that I use with all my stuff. I’m trying to put as much meaning into things as I really possibly can and give it my all, but the concerto I’m writing is also about a novel that I’m simultaneously writing. So, I’m busy with that. It’s about shell shock during the war. There’s a soldier who’s recovering from shell shock and he interacts with the other people that are affected by it worse than he is. I’m really quite drawn to people that have mental illness. It’s always comforting being around people like that I think. I don’t know why. It makes me feel more comfortable. I think I’ve always kind of seen myself as being a bit eccentric and a bit out there, so maybe it’s kind of comforting being around people with that kind of sense.

You can learn more about Damon Martin at www.traumatosis.com.

In my books and workshops on scientific paranormal investigation, I discuss how best to conceptualize a mystery: basically, an event out of context. A live dolphin lying on a Manhattan sidewalk is a mystery; that same dolphin in a tank at an aquarium is not. Ten thousand gallons of boiling caramel inside a Boeing 747 airplane is a mystery; that same caramel in a candy factory is not. Every mystery or strange event has some surrounding circumstance or context that will render it non-mysterious.

The investigator’s job is to find a scientifically plausible context in which the mysterious phenomenon makes sense. Often a mystery is created when the facts are merely lacking a context, but a mystery can also be created when the facts are put into the wrong context.¹ Thus, one of the chief duties in examining “unexplained” claims is un­derstanding the (environmental, social, cultural, psychological, etc.) context of miracle reports, UFO photographs, and so on.

I was reminded of this during a recent visit to the Walker Art Center in Minneapolis, Minnesota. One featured exhibit, Lifelike, “invites close examination of artworks—startlingly realistic, often playful, and sometimes surreal—based on commonplace ob­jects and situations.” The show featured ninety works from fifty artists, including Alex Hay’s Paper Bag (1968), an exact replica of an ordinary paper bag (except that it’s six feet tall and made of fiberglass); Vija Celmins’s Freeway (1966), a photorealistic oil painting one would swear is a photograph at first glance; Daniel Douke’s Ace (1979), a seemingly ordinary mailing box complete with packaging tape and scuffs yet mounted chest-high on a wall and made of acrylic and Masonite; and Ron Mueck’s Crouching Boy in Mirror (1999–2000), a stunningly realistic life-size sculpture of a boy looking at himself in a mirror. In this world, scale and apparent utility cannot be trusted: pocket combs are as large as filing cabinets and working elevators are scaled down to the size of a deck of cards.

This is fertile playground for artists, illusionists, and skeptics: Things that seem real often are not, and things that don’t seem real sometimes are. Every­thing must be questioned: every basic assumption and premise, even the ordinary—especially the ordinary. The same is true for investigations and skepticism in general.

One of the most interesting pieces at Lifelike was also the most mundane (and for the same reason). It was Swiss artist Ugo Rondinone’s still.life (cardboard leaning on the wall) (2009). The piece, about four feet square, is a slightly banged-up piece of cardboard, with all the familiar patterns and creases we’d expect to find on any ordinary piece of cardboard sitting next to a city dumpster. It is in fact an incredibly detailed bronze sculpture (see Figure 1).

Figure 1. This seemingly ordinary piece of cardboard is actually a bronze sculpture.

Which brings me back to the issue of context. A photograph (indeed, even a close visual inspection) of the piece does not betray its true nature. Without touching or weighing it, we have no way of deducing anything about it. The same is often true for photographs of Bigfoot, UFOs, ghosts, etc. This is where context informs the investigation: If I photo­graphed still.life in an alleyway, there would be no reason to think or assume it was anything except what it seems to be.² Rondinone’s sculpture, seen or photographed, does exactly what it is in­tended to do: fool the viewer. (Even when photographed against a gallery wall, the context doesn’t give the viewer much of a clue to its true nature.)

But what if there was an additional piece of important information that gave the mystery (or, rather, apparent non-mystery) context? If I showed someone a photograph of still.life and mentioned that the photo was taken at a famous art museum, that changes everything, providing both a reason to doubt its apparent nature and context for solving the mystery. The information doesn’t completely explain it—after all, it could simply be a piece of discarded cardboard leaning against a wall in the receiving dock because it’s too big to fit in the trash. But it provides a clue, an important first step in solving mysteries.

Art means many things to many people—and it can even include les­sons in skepticism from a piece of cardboard that’s not really a piece of cardboard.

Notes

1. For example, if a woman is thinking about her friend who then suddenly calls, that context might make them think they share a psychic link, whereas the correct—and less mysterious—context is that the incident was likely an illusion created by confirmation bias.

2. Note that this is not a fallacy but instead a completely reasonable and logical assumption; in fact, since the piece is unique in the world—there are no other bronze sculptures that size that look exactly like an ordinary creased cardboard panel—one would be completely justified using Occam’s razor in assuming it is precisely what it appears to be.

In Amy’s words:

I first began working in clay by helping my mother, Charlene. At the time, my mother had a small home business that made porcelain awards for horse shows. I was very influenced by her work even though I probably didn’t know it early on. Her highly detailed work has without a doubt influenced my artwork today.

As a young woman I opened an art gallery in North Hollywood, Cali­fornia. During the time I had the gallery I began making and selling small ceramic necklaces. Unfortu­nately, I had no idea how to run an art gallery and after a short stint and an unfortunate series of events, I ended up literally bankrupt. I had no car and no place to live. I had failed.

I got very depressed and I stopped making art.

A year or so passed by.

Then, I got a job as a waitress to try to start saving money to start my life over. I remembered how much I en­joyed making the ceramic jewelry in my mother’s studio, so I started making necklaces and wearing them at work. I had moved into a tiny one-room apartment, and I didn’t have any space to create. The necklaces were small and I could make them in my mother’s backyard ceramic studio. It was perfect. It was during the same time period that I started learning about science, and a few months later I found out about the skeptical community. During this educational period in my life I was able to find something that my artwork had been lacking: a purpose and a message.

People fell in love with the jewelry. I had people buy them right off my neck! I literally couldn’t make them fast enough. Surly-Ramics was born! Within a few months I had started a new business, one that championed skepticism and critical thinking, and I no longer needed to wait tables.

I now work as an artist full time. I design jewelry that advocates education and science and that celebrates the brave, emerging society of freethinkers that I find myself a part of. It’s nice to be able to carry around a small piece of art that represents skepticism and the rational ideals that are helping to make this world a better place. I try to give back as much as I can to the community that has given me wisdom and so much inspiration, so I use my art to fundraise for many secular organizations and various grant programs.

You can see more of my ceramic jewelry designs at surlyramics.com.

Email me at info@surlyramics.com.

Follow @SurlyAmy on twitter.

The skeptical community’s growth has led to many unanticipated creative projects, particularly online. One such project is Skeptic Top Trumps, a virtual deck of playing cards featuring caricatures of popular skeptics.

It is the creation of Crispian Jago, a computer industry consultant in Read­ing, England. Jago started a blog in 2008, on which he began writing his “serious thoughts” about skepticism. “Unsurprisingly, nobody really ever read my blog,” he recalls. When writer Simon Singh was sued for libel by the British Chiropractic Association, Jago decided to respond with satire. He wrote a “bogus transcript” of one of the court hearings mirroring the witch trial scene in the film Monty Python and the Holy Grail. It quickly became one of the most popular posts on his blog.

As a result he thought that “perhaps satirical skepticism might be an idea worth exploring.” Comments on a line in another Python-inspired post (“and your Dawkins smells of reason”) in­spired Jago to create an image of packaging for a fictional fragrance called Reason by Richard Dawkins. After this also proved very popular, “I looked around for more iconic images that I could bastardize into my own agenda.”

Jago found that amusing images consistently reached wide audiences. He calls them “a useful weapon in the skeptic’s arsenal.” Info-graphics and other visual parodies have become staples of his blog; one popular post is a catalog of pseudosciences and mystical beliefs called the Periodic Table of Irrational Nonsense. Another depicts the history of science as a subway map.

Jago’s foray into card decks was inspired by the previous efforts of others. In 2008 stand-up comedian Chris­tina Martin saw a newspaper headline “Gay Rights Don’t Trump Christian Rights.” She recounted her reaction in a later article: “How stupid, I thought; as if people’s rights and beliefs can be reduced to a game of Top Trumps.”

Top Trumps is a popular series of card games for children in the United Kingdom that began in the 1970s. Each deck has a theme, such as World Records, Aircraft, or Military Vehicles. Each card represents one person or item in the category and contains a list of numerical statistics on that subject. Game play is akin to the card game War, comparing one of the statistics chosen by the player. The game ends when one player has collected all the cards.

In response to that newspaper headline Martin wrote a set of humorous “God Trumps” featuring the gods of various religions with illustrations by Martin Rowson. They were published in New Humanist starting in the fall of 2008 and quickly became the most-read article in the history of the magazine’s website.

Jago noticed their success and soon created his own card decks including Skeptic Tarot Cards and Celebrity Quack Trumps—the latter featuring celebrities along with their favorite pseudoscience. After it appeared, British skeptic David Allen Green suggested a deck of skeptic trumps to Jago.

Although proficient with tools like Photoshop, Jago is not an artist and didn’t want to use ordinary photos for the cards. So he turned to automatic avatar creator tools, choosing one in the style of the animated TV program The Simpsons. The result was a set of cartoon characters he called Simpsons Top Trumps: Skeptic Edition.

Consistent with the satirical nature of his blog, the cards include cutting remarks and humor. “As I am in awe of many of the subjects, I didn’t want the cards to be too sycophantic,” he said, adding that “as skeptics we too are not immune [to] critical analysis and ridicule.”

The 52 Simpsons cards were very popular. Several skeptics adopted their cards as their online avatars. Jago received requests to produce the cards as a physical deck, but he was wary that Fox Broadcasting, protective of their trademarks, would take a dim view of such an endeavor. Taking the cards further would require entirely new artwork.

After Jago used the Pope in a parody of The Cat in the Hat, he heard from artist Neil Davies, who offered his assistance on future projects. Seeing Davies’s work online, Jago knew his caricatures would be perfect for Skeptic Trumps. Davies agreed to do the artwork for free in exchange for promotion of his work. Since then, Davies’s art has been featured on the cover of the U.K. magazine The Skeptic.

Skeptic Trumps was re-launched in April 2010. The first card, fittingly enough, was Simon Singh. The new deck was just as popular as the previous one, with skeptics taking it as an honor to be depicted, “even though I insult them,” Jago notes. The popularity was such that other skeptics went to considerable effort to create a card for Jago himself. They secretly commissioned the artwork and surprised him with the card at The Amazing Meeting in London in 2010.

The deck has been updated several times, and currently numbers seventy-eight skeptics. When asked about his choice of subjects, Jago admitted that there are still a few he would like to do if Davies has time: “We haven’t done Joe Nickell yet, which is totally outrageous.” All are available free online, but they are still not available as physical cards.

The first song that I ever heard from you was a live performance. I was at Dragon*Con and suddenly there was this person in the middle of the Parsec Awards performing on a typewriter. The song was “I’ll Still Be a Geek After No One Thinks It’s Chic,” a.k.a. “The Nerd Anthem.” I noticed you were hanging out with Phil Plait, who many skeptical people know—so obviously, geek cred is well and truly established. Are you a skeptic as well?

Marian Call photo by Brian Adams.

Not enough of one, I think, to align myself too firmly? There are a couple of points on which I don’t feel that I fully belong, but I also tend not to align myself to groups in general. I would rather be very open to interpretation, and I’d rather keep my lines of communication open with all sorts of people, including groups who can’t tolerate each other.

It’s kind of funny that I love Phil dearly, and I love the skeptics’ organization. And I’ve played a lot of shows with and for skeptics, and I identify pretty strongly with them. But when it comes to being a card-carrying member? I also have a very large group of very conservative, say, young-Earth Christians, who also come to my shows and pagans, and Buddhists, and people from all different sorts of religious and political backgrounds. I actually really like that, and I would like to encourage more of it. I see my space as an artist, as creating a space where these people who generally don’t dialogue very well, are compelled to like the same thing and be forced to talk cordially to one another in real space.

I think that that is a vanishing experience, now, where it’s much, much easier to select our company so that we only hang out with people who agree with us.

As far as my personal views, I would definitely fall on the skeptic side. But I try not to align myself with any groups, because that makes it easier for me to reach people who object to one another, you know what I mean? I see myself as a peacemaker in this universe, and as a dialogue creator. If I were ever to try and do something good for humanity, it would probably have to do with getting people who don’t like each other to talk together in a cordial fashion and to understand one another.

That’s one of the things I enjoy finding out about skeptics, that there’s a tremendous scope, and there needs to be a tremendous scope: different experiences, and different interactions. That’s what makes it so fascinating.

Absolutely. It’s a continuum, rather than an “in or out” situation. At least, I should hope!

How would you describe the differences between your albums? Some of them have a kind of a theme, and then it sort of evolves from there, doesn’t it?

It does. The albums are quite different and the way that you came to the music is pretty common. A lot of people came to it that way. First they found Got to Fly, usually through some sort of geek or skeptic connection, or a fandom connection. Then found the other music, Vanilla and Songs of the Month, and then came to, hopefully, Something Fierce, the new one.

Got to Fly was a special piece, because it was a commission to be about Firefly and Battlestar Galactica. A company that liked my geek-themed music that I’d already published came to me and said, “What would happen if you were licensed to release singing about these things, and you wrote a whole album for us?” I said, “Oh. OK, well here goes!”

Afterwards, a lot of people became fans because of the fandom, little bits and pieces. I’m hopeful that a lot of them have stayed fans through the other music, which is less. . . . It’s all geeky, is the thing. It’s all nerdy stuff, because I am a nerd and that shows through no matter what’s happening, and the language, and definitely a lot of music nerd stuff in there. Songs about unexpected topics, I think, that geeks tend to prefer. Others are about, like “Dear Mr. Darcy,” a type of love and a type of relationships that is very peculiar to overthinking, shy, nerdy people, of which I am one.

I’ve noticed quite a few literary references throughout: Shakespeare, Neruda, T.S. Eliot, Ogden Nash—were you always interested in literature when you were starting as a musician? Has this been a passion of yours as well as the kind of nerdy technological side and the science fiction side?

Oh, yes. I would say the literature comes long before. When I was a little kid, I always had a book under the desk. It was usually a classic. I had this love affair all through school with Dickens and Hugo, Neruda. I read a lot of Neruda translation; “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” by T.S. Elliot is one of my favorite pieces of work ever, ever, ever. Lots of Shakespeare. I remember getting into trouble in sixth grade—I was reading Shakespeare under the desk during our spelling tests. I remember feeling a vague sense of injustice about that!

So how may instruments do you play? I was looking at the liner notes and noticing quite a few. I was like, “Oh! She does this as well. Wow.”

Oh, no. Absolutely none. I play no instruments!

No?

I play the typewriter, and the rain stick, and the kazoo in my show! But as for other things, I know how music works. I know music theory very well. These days I’m probably a terrible reader, but I used to be a very good sight-reader. But I am not a very good reader anymore and I don’t really play any instruments, at all. So I will cover up for a missing instrument. Like if there’s something that’s got this gigantic hole and I feel like it needs to be filled, sometimes I’ll lay down a synth patch, or some keyboards, or some bass. I’m capable of playing some of these instruments, but that doesn’t mean that I’m by any means qualified or should be allowed to. I did a lot of the percussion myself. That was all right.

People who look for you online are most likely going to see you posed with a typewriter—what’s that all about?

Oh, absolutely. Well, I love the sound of it. I really love the sound and I wanted the sound on my very first album. I love how evocative it is. You instantly think of something and what you think of is literary and kind of nerdy, antique, old-fashioned, probably feminine historically and analog. I just love that suggestion that the typewriter brings to it and I wanted it in the music from the very beginning. I never thought of playing it live in my show until after I had done a lot of shows and people started asking, “Where’s the typewriter?”

I said, “Oh, I guess. Why would I play a typewriter at my show? Who does that?” And of course, that was exactly why I should play a typewriter in my show!

So I started playing it. And actually, I bought one that I’ve become dearly attached to because she’s been to forty-nine states with me now and up and down the coast a couple of times. All winter she sits in my car and she gets frozen and unfrozen. I have to remember to take her into the gigs long enough before the show that she’ll unfreeze! I absolutely love that typewriter. . . . Nothing else sounds quite like it and I really, really enjoy just having it embedded in there. If feels both symbolic and evocative. And I don’t know, it just feels right. It feels like me.

Marian Call is currently touring California and hopes to hit Europe next. Her website can be found at MarianCall.com.

Award-winning cartoonist, fine artist, and stand-up comedian Dan Piraro is best known for his daily syndicated newspaper cartoon Bizarro. Appearing in over three hundred newspapers on six continents, Bizarro has won an unprecedented three consecutive “Best Cartoon Panel” awards from the National Cartoonists Society, and in 2011 Piraro won its highest honor, “Cartoonist of the Year.” Over his twenty-seven-year career, Piraro has published sixteen books of his cartoons as well as three books of prose. Piraro has appeared on NPR, CNN, and HBO and is currently negotiating a half-hour, animated comedy show for television. The Onion referred to him as “one of the best cartoonists that has ever played the game.” Piraro’s cartoons have appeared on the Skeptical Inquirer’s “Last Laugh” humor page for several years, and an issue about where skepticism meets art wouldn’t be complete without him. Piraro was kind enough to answer a few questions from SI Deputy Editor Benjamin Radford.

You sometimes have “mysterious” or “paranormal” subjects like Bigfoot, UFOs, Egypt’s pyramids, and psychics as themes in your cartoons—often with a clever angle deflating the mystery or pretension. Are you a skeptic at heart, questioning everything?

Yes, always have been. I loathe superstition and am horrified by the amount of suffering and death that has been caused throughout history because of mythology. Though we like to think those days are gone, it still goes on daily. The fact that same-sex marriage is not uniformly legal throughout the world is a perfect example of superstition over reason.

As someone with a refined sense of the absurd, do you simply find the topics are just irresistibly ripe for lampooning?

That, too. I know that belief in “the unseen” is an evolutionary quirk and not directly tied to intelligence, but I can’t help but feel that the sorts of wacky stuff people believe in are just ridiculous. So I lampoon them. God included.

Hypocrisy is a common theme in your work, using humor to highlight the disparity between what people say and what they do (or between obvious reality and what people think). Why is that such a rich vein for you?

I’m not sure, really. I’ve always been an observer, both visually and behaviorally, so I see a lot of hypocrisy everywhere, of course. Combine that with my affinity for using logic and reason to make sense of things, [and] these kinds of things just pop out.

Another source of your humor has been puns—sometimes truly awful ones. Are there any especially atrocious puns that have earned you threats of bodily harm, or ones you regret and would like to publicly apologize for?

I’ve always been a fan of puns, but for years I tried not to use them in cartoons because I thought they were too easy. But over the years I’ve learned that readers really love puns, too. Even the groaners. So I started using the puns submitted to me by readers in a feature called “Sunday Punnies,” and it’s been extremely popular. My guideline regarding puns is this: if it makes me smile, I use it. I don’t care if anyone thinks it is “bad”; I just do it. No threats yet, fingers crossed. . . .

Obviously the main goal of your work is entertaining people, but many of your cartoons indirectly encourage critical thinking by offering a skeptical perspective. What do you think about the role of art and satirical humor as vehicles for exposing truth and hypocrisy?

I think there is no better way to get people to think about issues like critical thinking and reason than humor. Traditionally, a good cartoon can have more political impact than a thirty-minute stump speech. I think that is often true in areas other than politics, too. There is no better way to disarm and diffuse than with humor. When you start making fun of a principle, person, or behavioral trait, it immediately makes it less powerful. I used to disarm bullies in this way in school. I was not big enough to beat them physically, but I realized if I could get other kids to laugh at them, they were no longer intimidated by them.

One of the many small hidden (and not-so-hidden) icons you sometimes use in your cartoons (along with a slice of pie and a lit firecracker) is a little alien in a UFO, a “Flying Saucer of Possibility.” Also, according to something I either made up or read on the Internet, it represents a UFO you saw as a young child from the porch of your filthy mobile home at the bottom of a strip-mining pit in downtown Tokyo. True or false?

If philosophy teaches us anything (and it doesn’t) it’s that all things are both true and false. If I say I lived in a filthy mobile home at the bottom of a strip-mining pit in downtown Tokyo, I probably did.

The Committee for Skeptical Inquiry (CSI) will award its 2011 Robert P. Balles Annual Prize in Critical Think­ing to psychologist Richard Wiseman for his book Paranormality: Why We See What Isn’t There.

Wiseman holds Britain’s only Chair in the Public Understanding of Psy­chology, at the University of Hertford­shire (UK). He has written several best-selling books, including The Luck Factor, Quirkology, 59 Seconds, and Paranormal­ity. More than two million people have taken part in his mass participation experiments, and his YouTube channel has received more than thirty million views. He is one of the most frequently quoted psychologists in the British media and was recently listed as one of the Inde­pendent on Sunday’s top 100 people who make Britain a better place to live. He is also a Committee for Skep­tical Inquiry fellow and a Skeptical Inquirer consulting editor.

Paranormality is not like a good number of skeptical books looking at paranormal claims. Wiseman is not simply interested in looking at a claim, gathering the evidence, and debunking the claim. He goes a step further. He is interested in showing us how easy it is for us to be deceived and how easily we can be fooled and fool others. He includes do-it-yourself activities that allow you to learn some of the basics and share in the experiences for yourself.

As the book jacket says: “Richard Wise­man is clear about one thing: Para­normal phenomena don’t exist. But in the same way space travel yields technology that transforms our everyday lives, so research into telepathy, fortune-telling, and out-of-body experiences produces remarkable insights into our brains, behaviour and beliefs.” Exactly.

The Robert P. Balles Annual Prize in Critical Thinking is a $1,500 award given to the author of the published work that best exemplifies healthy skepticism, logical analysis, or empirical science. Each year, the Committee for Skeptical Inquiry, publisher of the Skeptical Inquirer, selects the paper, article, book, or other publication that has the greatest potential to create positive reader awareness of important scientific issues.

The prize will be presented to Wiseman during CSICon Nashville, October 25–28, 2012.

This prize has been established through the generosity of Robert P. Balles, an associate member of CSI, and the Robert P. Balles Endowed Memorial Fund, a permanent endowment fund for the benefit of CSI. CSI’s established criteria for the prize include use of the most parsimonious theory to fit data or to explain apparently preternatural phenomena.

This is the seventh year the Robert P. Balles prize has been presented. Previous winners of this award are:

• 2010: Steven Novella for his tre­mendous body of work, including the Skeptics’ Guide to the Universe, Science-Based Medicine, Neurologica, Skeptical Inquirer column “The Science of Medicine,” and his tireless travel and lecture schedule on behalf of skepticism
• 2009: Michael Specter, New Yorker staff writer and former foreign correspondent for the New York Times, for his book Denialism: How Irra­tional Thinking Hinders Scientific Pro­gress, Harms the Planet, and Threatens Our Lives
• 2008: Leonard Mlodinow, physicist, author, and professor at Caltech, for his book The Drunkard’s Walk: How Randomness Rules Our Lives
• 2007: Natalie Angier, New York Times science writer and author of the book The Canon: A Whirligig Tour of the Beautiful Basics of Science
• 2006: Ben Goldacre for his weekly column, “Bad Science,” published in the Guardian newspaper (U.K.)
• 2005: Shared by Andrew Skolnick, Ray Hyman, and Joe Nickell for their series of articles in the Skeptical Inquirer on “Testing ‘The Girl with X-Ray Eyes’”

The Sixth World Skeptics Congress drew an impressive stable of speakers and attendees.
(Photo by André Sebastiani)

Despite the long weekend dedicated to the congress ahead, there were a num­ber of well-attended tours on Wednes­day and Thursday before the event that allowed attendees to learn more about the history of the underground bunkers and towers around the city. An open-day on Thursday featured magic shows, lectures, and a German session of “Science Slam”—an event similar to the traditional “Café Scientifique” but with a competitive edge.

From left: Kylie Sturgess, Eugenie C. Scott, and Camp Quest’s Samantha Stein. (Photo by André Sebastiani)

Eugenie C. Scott started off the main event on Friday with a brisk but disturbing look at creationism outside the United States, involving the intersection between politics and creationism in Italy, Serbia, Brazil, Great Britain, and Russia. Scott’s message on how “science is not a democracy” was reiterated by Dittmar Graf of the Insti­tute of Biology and Education at the Uni­versity of Dortmund, who outlined comparative studies on the acceptance of evolution in Germany and Turkey and the difficulties in achieving such acceptance. Johan Braeck­man of Ghent University and the Flemish skeptical organization SKEPP presented on creationism in Belgium and the Nether­lands, with an amusing tale about the potentially London-Olympic bound “authentic” Noah’s Ark built by Dutch creationist Johan Huibers.

The high level of acceptance of creationism in the Islamic world was the focus of research conducted by Mc­Gill’s Evolution Education Re­search Center, presented by Anila Asghar. An extensive study involving more than one hundred Muslim scientists and teachers and five thousand student surveys across Turkey, Leba­non, Egypt, Indonesia, and Paki­stan revealed that while the reconciliation of faith and evolution was possible for scientists, exposure to Amer­ican creationist materials and religious messages produced conflicted re­sponses from students.

Gita Sahgal, director of the Cen­tre for Secular Space, began the sessions on pseudoscience in education. Her lecture unveiled the early history and myths of India and Pakistan and the influence they have had on nationalist movements and education in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. My presentation followed; in­spired by a 2006 Austral­ian paper on autism, dyslexia, and attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), it showed how the “unsinkable rubber ducks” like Dore, the “Mozart effect,” Brain Gym, and Facilitated Com­muni­cation persist even now—despite damning research, court cases, and even company bankruptcy.

Simon Singh. (Photo by André Sebastiani)

Samantha Stein from Camp Quest echoed my overall point on the need for all stakeholders to develop greater responsibility when improving education. Her dynamic presentation on “Engaging Children in Science” critically examined the state of U.K. science education, the need for education reform, and the promotion of science literacy beyond the classroom. Her talk prompted a passionate outburst during the question-and-answer session by audience member Simon Singh, who agreed with Stein’s observation about the sorry state of science education. Stein is currently writing a book, Atheists, Tents, and Unicorns: The Story of Camp Quest in the UK, on her experiences as the founder and director of Camp Quest UK. The day concluded with awards for Simon Singh and Edzard Ernst, Luigi Garlaschelli, and Wim Betz, recognizing their ongoing efforts to promote science and reason worldwide.

For the start of Saturday’s proceedings Professor Jürgen Windeler delivered a presentation on evaluating the benefits of conventional and complementary medicine, looking specifically at some misunderstandings of medical evaluation—what is involved in randomization and how simple blinding methods are not always possible. He also presented a case for ignoring the claims of homeopathy rather than giving them any potential therapeutic credibility. The topic of diagnostic and therapeutic interventions was ex­panded upon by Gerd Antes of the University Medical Center in Frei­burg, who interrogated the systematic research into the deficiencies of the research and publication process and how this contributes to what would be otherwise avoidable diseases and deaths: “Don’t fight belief; fight the justification of belief through the abuse of science and knowledge.”

Harriet “Skep-Doc” Hall, MD, a popular science writer for a number of skeptical publications including Skeptic and Skeptical Inquirer, discussed the bogus and bizarre treatments that are touted as so-called complementary/alternative medicine (or “SCAM”). She presented on the issues that arise from meta-analyses and systematic reviews of pseudoscience in medicine (drawing on a paper by Ioannidis). Hall is the creator of the “tooth fairy science” analogy for the seductive appeal of such claims, and she introduced us to the German translation: Zahnfeewissenschaft! This was her first overseas presentation at a skeptical convention, and considering the ex­tremely positive response to her work from the audience, it should certainly not be her last.

The sessions on alternative medicine concluded with an in-depth and entertaining look at acupuncture by Benedikt Matenaer, who has a background in anesthesiology and palliative care. He critically analyzed the economic influences acupuncture has had on the German health system and the reasons that public health insurances and public health systems should be held accountable for promoting acupuncture (particularly why practitioners are acquiring a “pseudo-education” to “put needles anywhere”). The assumptions made by acupuncturist “professionals” are “stupid” and “disgusting lies”—and he proposed a hilarious quiz on chi for the next time skeptics encounter their claims. One canny audience member inquired about potential cheaper health insurance policies due to hypothetical companies not endorsing pseudoscientific practices.

The end-of-day sessions on “Psy­chology and Pseudoscience,” chaired by James Alcock, brought us the very first public demonstration of Ray Hyman’s PowerPoint skills for a lecture on the history of testing psychic claims, and he included some impressively deft rope tricks. Although Chris French’s original presentation was beset by technical difficulties, his new lecture certainly captured the audience’s attention with a tale of scientists attempting to replicate Daryl Bem’s precognition studies and the frustrating and sometimes bemusing lengths that must be taken to be published in peer-reviewed journals. Polish skeptic Tomasz Witkowski’s talk on pseudoscience in psychology investigated not only how dodgy claims in the field are detrimental for science in general but also how they mislead those who hope to find help with health issues such as brain damage and cancer.

Massimo Polidoro. (Photo by André Sebastiani)

On Sunday, skepticism entered the political sphere when Chris Mooney discussed his recent investigations into cognitive differences between liberals and conservatives—which may help or hinder the development of a civil society—as discussed in his new book, The Republican Brain. Simon Perry’s talk on the advent and application of fill-in-complaint-form website Fishbarrel (adapted by a handful of countries to help target pseudoscientific products online) was well received by the mostly German audience; this may also be due to another innovative example of using similar methods of social media manipulation by Germany’s Piraten­partei (Pirate Party), which has influenced local political change. The last session featured a standing-room-only Houdini Séance with Ray Hyman, James Randi, and Massimo Polidoro delving into some of the lesser-known stories of the great magician. We were then treated to a lengthy question-and-answer session, ranging from the history of the Million Dollar Chal­lenge (lauded by African skeptic Leo Igwe as invaluable to activist efforts worldwide) to the danger of lie detectors to budget spending on paranormal claims worldwide.

The event concluded with the Com­mittee for Skeptical Inquiry, the Euro­pean Council of Skeptical Or­gani­sa­tions (ECSO), and the Ge­sell­­schaft zur wissenschaftlichen Unter­suchung von Para­­wissen schaften (GWUP) releasing a resolution calling for high standards of scientific practice in scientific institutions and in science education—to focus on challenging pseudoscience when it is being established within academic and instructional institutions, particularly when funded by tax-payers. (See below for text.) Considering the scope of the topics and presentations at the congress, a call for international action was a fine way to finish a dynamic and stimulating weekend of skepticism.

The next World Skeptics Congress will be held in Sweden in 2013.

Resolution: Scientific Standards in Academia and Education

On the occasion of the Sixth World Skeptics Congress in Berlin, the Committee for Skeptical Inquiry (CSI), the European Council of Skeptical Organizations (ECSO), and the German skeptical organization Gesellschaft zur wissen­schaftlichen Untersuchung von Parawissenschaften (GWUP) adopted the following resolution calling for high standards of scientific practice in scientific institutions and in science education.

Scientists and skeptics from around the world are deeply concerned with the growing tolerance, acceptance, and even promotion of pseudoscientific and occult ideas and practices within scientific, academic, and educational institutions. Students worldwide are in danger of being instructed in the unsubstantiated claims of ideologues and purveyors of pseudoscience, rather than learning to base conclusions on dependable, scientific knowledge. Scientists and academics may be reluctant or afraid to speak up, even when scientific principles and criteria are blatantly violated, fearful of antagonizing colleagues or those on whom their own careers may depend.

At the occasion of the Sixth World Skeptics Congress in Berlin, CSI, ECSO, and GWUP call for high standards of scientific practice in scientific institutions and in science education. They call on scientists and academics worldwide to raise their voices when pseudoscience is being established within academic and instructional institutions. When such institutions are publicly funded, it is additionally of crucial importance that taxes not be used to promote pseudoscience or ideologies.

Specifically, we call on all those responsible to:

• Ensure that universities, medical institutions, and colleges teach depend­able, scientific knowledge and resist the temptation to let unproven claims enter professional education; such institutions are obliged to assist students to clearly distinguish between science-based and unscientific methodologies within the context of science and evidence-based medicine; and
• Ensure that scientific standards of evidence-based medicine are applied without compromise, resisting attempts to grant exemptions for ideological or commercial reasons to some forms of therapy that potentially risk patient welfare; and
• Ensure that schools base the science curriculum on accepted science, rejecting attempts to influence the curriculum on ideological, political, or religious grounds, such as has occurred with the teaching of evolution and climate change.

We also call upon our sister skeptical organizations from around the world in the spirit of consumer protection to commit themselves to ensuring good science within academia and schools, in addition to continuing their efforts to promote science and critical thinking to the public.

What are lacking, however, are credible photos of the creatures that should be flying these UFOs—the actual aliens or extraterrestrials. It appears there are no more than fifty such photos shot in the past eighty years, but once you take out those plainly fake and the more suspicious looking ones all you are left with are about ten photos. These are, essentially, “mug shots” of wanted extraterrestrials. Here is my personal list of the best (or worst) photos of aliens.

10. High Bridge, New Jersey (August 2, 1956)

Howard Menger was a well-known American contactee who claimed he had met extraterrestrials throughout his whole life. He detailed in his books his chats with friendly Adamski-like Venusian “space brothers” who also gave him a wife and took him on their bases on the Moon and on Venus. This is one of the photos that he took of his ET friends; interestingly, in his photos the aliens are always dark shapes illuminated from behind. They almost look like Menger’s mother or wife coming out in the porch at night with a flashlight in hand, calling for that weird Howard, always lost in his UFO dreams.

9. Lossiemouth, Scotland (1954)

Cedric Allingham was an amateur ornithologist who was looking for birds in the North of Scotland when he saw a flying saucer descend to the earth. One of the occupants exited the spaceship and walked up to him. The alien told him he was coming from Mars and, after a little chat, left. Precisely in that moment, Cedric took this picture. Well, yes, the beanpole here looks more like a janitor or a plumber than an extraterrestrial. However, it was later suspected that Cedric Allingham never existed and that the photo was circulated by Patrick Moore, an astronomer well known for his pranks.

8. Carp, Ontario, Canada (August 15, 1991)

The photo of this alien “entity” was supposedly taken along with the film of a UFO landing. The fact that nobody knows who took the photo or the film, both sent by an unknown person calling him or herself “Guardian” to Tom Theofanous, a Canadian UFOlo­gist, does not help in taking the photo seriously. Other messages sent by “Guardian” describing a “conspiracy between the Chinese and Grey Aliens planning to take over the world” did little to increase its credibility.

7. Alaska (1930s)

This seems to be the most ancient of the lot, even if it was seen for the first time in 2003. The anonymous source claims that his grandfather took the picture seventy years before in Alaska and gave it to him the day before he died. Nothing is known about the photographer, the location, or the date of the photo. Some thought that since the little man seems to be leaning on one side it might actually be a dummy. What is more suspicious, however, is the fact that with the original source “conveniently” dead exactly one day after his revelation (isn’t that a little too trite?), all possibilities of verifying the story are defunct.

6. Falkville, Alabama (October 17, 1973)

That night, police chief Jeff Greenhaw received a phone call from an excited lady who said that she had witnessed a “spaceship” land in an open field not far from the town proper. The sheriff took off with a camera and found a “tinfoil alien” who consented to be photographed but then ran away. The ridicule that the whole story brought on the sheriff’s office cost Greenhaw his job as well as his wife. Some think that he may have encountered someone wearing a fireman’s as­bestos suit; others, however, think that the being in the suit was a friend of Greenhaw and that the whole thing was an attempt to get famous that went terribly wrong.

5. Ilkley Moor, England (December 1, 1987)

Taken by ex-policeman Philip Spencer, the photo seems to show an alien examining the bleak moor. Too bad the picture is taken from so far away and is so out of focus it is devoid of any discernible detail. But wait, Spencer also has a story that he was later able to remember (thanks to regressive hypnosis) about him being abducted by the aliens, taken on a spaceship, brought to space, shown a couple of movies about the destruction of Earth, and then returned to the moor. Unfortunately, no photos of the spaceship or close-ups of the aliens were taken.

4. Wiesbaden, Germany (April, 1950)

This picture, undoubtedly one of the best, was found in 1977 among the documents made public by the FBI on request of the UFO Information Net­work. The photo seems to show an alien, with an odd breathing tube in its mouth, being escorted by two uniformed agents. Presumably the alien was captured alive after falling to the ground with his spaceship. A great photo! Too bad that in 1981 German journalist Klaus Webner discovered that it was actually an April Fool’s hoax made by photographer Hans Scheffler, who airbrushed an image of his five-year-old son Peter holding hands with two real soldiers. The photo had been published in the German newspaper Wies­badener Tagblatt on April 1, 1950, and was later revealed to be a joke.

3. Cologne, Germany (April 1, 1950)

This is even better, but the day on which it was taken clearly gives away its true origin. Published by German photo magazine Neue Illustrierte, it was a crude photomontage part of a page devoted to the Aztec Saucer Crash hoax of 1948, the same episode (Ros­well was still not popular back then) that inspired the Wiesbaden hoax. Incredibly, some uninformed UFOlogists still take both pictures as real proof of aliens.

2. South of Laredo, TX (July 7, 1948)

This one, purportedly showing the remains of a large headed alien (known among UFO buffs as “Tomato Man”), has often been shown as proof that aliens actually crashed with their UFOs on Earth. A more careful examination, however, reveals that the picture displays the remains of a human pilot perished in a plane crash. The human nature of the body is clearly revealed by the frames of a pair of eyeglasses near the right shoulder, while the earthly origin of the vehicle is shown by a close scrutiny of the structural remains: conductor cables, a six-sided hex nut, tubular piping, angle iron, and many welded areas all look man-made, and the welds conform to standard procedures of the time.

1. Solway Firth, England (May 24, 1964)

This is probably the most in­triguing photo of them all. Jim Tem­ple­ton, a retired fireman, was taking pictures of his daughter on the Solway Marshes in Cumbria, north of Eng­land, but when he had them developed he found that behind the girl was a big, tall fellow in what looked like a white “spaceman” suit. He was quite sure that there was no one there when he took the photo. The case quickly became an international affair and so far no one has been able to explain the photo. Templeton, who later said he received a visit from two “men in black” who claimed to be from the government, was also known for his practical jokes. Could the photo be one of those jokes? Or maybe someone in the processing lab, knowing Jim’s penchant for tricks, decided to tamper with the film and play one on him? But then, perhaps because the image immediately re­ceived world-wide fame and Temple­ton’s daughter was bullied and had to be taken out of school for a while, it became embarrassing for Jim or anybody else to confess the hoax? We don’t know and will never know now that Jim Templeton is dead. There are many other instances, however, in which phenomena that started as jokes quickly got out of hand: think of the Fox sisters tricking their parents with an apple bumped on the floor and inadvertently starting Spiritualism, or the two little girls in Cottingley who photographed “fairies” (that were thought to be real by none other than Sir Arthur Conan Doyle) and waited sixty years before confessing. Maybe things went the same way with the Solway Spaceman. It would have been typical. A typical case of UFOolery.