The sky is a crowd. I find it a comedy that a soldier now holds the keys of iron to the attic of the stars where the government hides its riddles on maps. Pete Hegseth showed his surprise this week when he discussed his mandate to find and publish every scrap of paper concerning those shapes of metal that haunt our pilots. To my way of thinking, the shock on his face reminds us that we are all children playing in a house where some rooms remain locked for reasons nobody can quite remember anymore. But the lock is turning. He did not expect this task.
The Secretary of Defense admitted that he never imagined himself as the curator of an alien gallery during his tenure at the Department of Defense. It’s worth noting that the prospect of seeing blueprints or photographs of objects that ignore the laws of physics produces a surge of joy in a man usually concerned with the grit of ground warfare. I noticed a spark in his eye that suggested he sees the release of these documents as an act of honesty toward a public that has grown weary of shadows. And why shouldn't he feel that way? Truth is a medicine that stings before it heals.
Silence creates a vacuum for ghosts. I believe we suffer when the authorities treat us like infants who cannot handle the sight of a machine in the desert. According to reports from wthr.com, Hegseth is now the man responsible for dragging these folders into the sun. Let’s be real for a second about the weight of this burden because it involves the dignity of every observer who was called a fool for reporting what they saw in the clouds. He is not just releasing data. He is validating the eyes of the common man.
The machine of bureaucracy hates a leak. But the command comes from the top and the folders must move from the darkness of the safe to the brightness of the screen. I suspect we will find that the universe is a loud neighborhood rather than the void described by our textbooks of materialism. Hegseth’s grin during his announcement suggests he knows the contents will shake the foundations of our cozy little world. It is a frightening prospect. Yet I feel a surge of hope that we might finally look at the moon without the filter of a classification stamp.
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