UFO Conjecture(s)

Thursday, May 31, 2007

Waiting for Godot and UFOs

godot1.jpg

Samuel Beckett’s “existentialist” play, Waiting for Godot, written in the late 1940s (published in 1952) was a harbinger of the plight of ufologists.

beckett.jpg

Vladimir and Estragon, the main characters, like ufologists, represent persons (humanity) waiting for something, in the guise of Godot.

(Some interpret Godot as God but Beckett disabused them of that meaning.)

We think that Beckett was prescient, in that he anticipated the arrival of UFOs at the public level in 1947 and the following years of no answers about where they come from, if they’ll arrive at all, and what they represent.

The Observer (cited by Wikipedia) had this to say:

"By all the known criteria, Waiting for Godot is a dramatic vacuum. It has no plot, no climax, no denouement, no beginning, no middle, no end, it frankly jettisons everything by which we recognize theater, it arrives as it were with no luggage, no passport, nothing to declare, yet it gets through, as might a pilgrim from Mars".[8]

Doesn’t that sum up the UFO problem, the UFO mystery?

In the play, other characters tell Vladimir and Estragon that Godot will arrive sometime but he (or it) never does.

Vladimir and Estragon continue to hope and wait for Godot’s arrival, just as ufologists and UFO devotees hope and wait for UFOs to arrive, tangibly.

The mystery of UFOs is as palpable as the mystery of Godot.

We and real ufologists (plus their minions) sit by the wayside, like Vladimir and Esatragon, accepting the excuses for the UFO delay, hoping that when the UFOs actually arrive, they will be explained or understood, and our waiting for them will not have been in vain.

But we get the feeling that the wait will be interminable and Godot, er the UFOs, will not be arriving any time soon or in a way that satisfies our longing.

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1 Comments:

  • What is the meaning of a cure for cancer today (or ultimately anything) for those who died yesterday?

    In other words, for them to show up now or at any time would have no meaning. It seems all to be STRICTLY FOR "THEM." I say this of course without me understanding/knowing what "they" know/care about or don't know/care about or even what the hell they are...if anything at all.

    Basically, the first sentence questions everything we are and are doing as individuals and as a species. Why anything at all? We ,ultimately at least, seem to be just a bunch of schmucks for whatever.

    The only conclusion I came come up with is that we are meaningless...as a species or as individuals.

    By Blogger Rich, at Thursday, May 31, 2007  

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