Salman Rushdie provides an answer to UFO entities?
In the New Yorker issue [June 1st, 2015] noted in the previous post, the great writer Salman Rushdie provided a fictional tale (which didn’t seem so fictional to me), THE DUNIAZÁT [Page 62 ff.] about a noted 12th century philosopher, exiled for liberal ideas at a time when fanatic Berbers “were spreading like a pestilence Arab Spain.”
The philosopher was beseeched, one day, by a young, orphaned girl, Dunia, outside his door who became his lover and bearer of his children.
(That story is rife with emotion and truisms about relationships between great men and their temporary, beloved partners, but that’s not what I found intriguing.)
Rushdie is rattling off truths within a fictional context, as usual – not unlike those that got him a fatwā calling for his death issued by Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini for alleged blasphemy against Muslims in his fourth novel, The Satanic Verses (of 1988).
In the New Yorker short story, Mr, Rushdie, referring to his philosopher's sexual partner, Dunia, hints that she was a jinn “and one day … turned sideways and slipped through a slit in the world and returned to Peristan, the other reality, the world of dreams whence the jinn periodically emerge to trouble and bless mankind.” [Page 66]
“After Dunia left our world, the voyages from the world of the jinn to ours became fewer in numbers, and then they stopped coming completely, and the slits in the world became overgrown with the unimaginative weeds of convention and the thornbushes of the dully material, until finally they closed up, and our ancestors were left to do the best they could without the benefits or curses of magic.” [ibid]
This answers a couple of things: the disappearance of the extraterrestrials of the Alien Astronaut theorists and the diminution of interacting UFOs today.
The existence of jinns is as believable as the ET scenario and more sensible, if one takes care to read Vallee or Jose Caravaca’s Distortion Theory (about “external agents”).
I believe that Sci-FI writers and great novelists, like Salman Rushdie, have insights that bespeak hidden truths that normals, like us, do not have access to, except through them and their creative writings.
The little asides that Mr. Rushdie provides in his New Yorker offering is one of those truths, as I see it.