A dispatch from the Hexagon. March 2026.
The owls are not what they seem.
JD Vance went on a podcast and said he would use the highest security clearance in the country to find out what the government knows about unidentified objects in American airspace.
He said he's tried twice to visit Area 51. Both times, something more urgent came up.
Then he said what he believes they are.
"I don't think they're aliens. I think they're demons."
He wasn't joking. He cited Christianity. He said every great world religion acknowledges that there are things out there — celestial beings — that are difficult to explain.
He said one of the devil's great tricks is convincing people he doesn't exist.
of Americans believe aliens definitely or probably exist.
The Vice President believes they are demons.
The President believes in ratings.
The files remain closed.
Obama says on a podcast that aliens "are real." Clarifies the next day — he meant statistically, not personally. Trump accuses him of leaking classified information.
Hours later, Trump directs the Pentagon to begin releasing all government files on UAPs, UFOs, and extraterrestrial life.
The government registers aliens.gov. The White House deputy press secretary responds with an alien emoji and the words "Stay tuned!"
Barksdale Air Force Base in Louisiana orders a shelter-in-place after multiple waves of unidentified drones are spotted over the installation — home to B-52 nuclear bombers.
AARO — the Pentagon's official UAP investigation office — sits on over 2,000 cases dating back to 1945. No files released. No timeline given.
There is a room in the basement of every government where the filing cabinets have no labels.
The fluorescent light flickers. The coffee has been cold for decades.
A man in a suit walks in, says he'll get to the bottom of it, and the room — which has heard this before — says nothing.
The light keeps flickering.
🪐Carl Jung, 1958
In 1958, an 83-year-old psychoanalyst sat down and wrote a book about UFOs. Not to prove they were real. Not to prove they weren't.
To ask why we needed them.
Jung argued that the saucer — the round, luminous shape in the sky — was a mandala. A symbol of wholeness.
He said civilizations project it onto the heavens when they can no longer find it on the ground. The Cold War had split the world in two. The atom had been cracked. God was in hospice.
And into that void, something circular appeared in the sky, and millions of people looked up and saw — whatever they needed to see.
"We have here a golden opportunity of seeing how a legend is formed."
Jung would not have been surprised.
He said the disc in the sky is a mirror. The airman sees a threat. The priest sees a sign. The scientist sees data. The believer sees salvation.
The shape doesn't change. The viewer does.
"Anything that looks technological is explained as technology. Anything that looks divine is explained as God. The phenomenon itself has said nothing."
During the week of March 9, Barksdale Air Force Base in Louisiana — home to nuclear-capable B-52 bombers — was attacked by drone swarms.
The base ordered a shelter-in-place.
The Pentagon acknowledged the event. Defense Secretary Hegseth said they were "working on it." He admitted it wasn't on his "bingo card."
Nobody has explained who sent them. Nobody has explained how they got there. The base is surrounded by restricted airspace.
The disc has been hovering for seventy years.
It hasn't moved. It hasn't spoken. It hasn't blinked.
We're the ones spinning — changing the name of the office, declassifying the same nothing, sending a new man in a new suit to stare at the same ceiling.
The disc does not care who is vice president.
🪐