After many years of detours we believe that we have established at least the outline of a problem that can and should be resolved. I am referring to the collection of phenomenological data on the part of our government.

Officially there exists no such collection. What do exist are various informal and ad hoc arrangements with the expressed intent of avoiding proper oversight. The issue here is one of propriety. Is this state of affairs proper or is it simply expedient and proprietary? It is not unreasonable to posit that this issue is the largest unresolved remnant of the Cold War history, second in significance only to the nuclear remnants.

There is a further complication. Phenomena do not exist, at least not for us moderns. Phenomena are an embarrassment to our modern psyches. They are more than an embarrassment to the scientific establishment. They are a threat. Our intelligence apparatchiks are caught in a bind between being scientifically correct and protecting us from the unknown. To believe that something that goes bump in the night might actually hurt us is to demonstrate a lack of faith in the omniscience of scientific materialism, but it is also demonstrating a pragmatic degree of wariness. The resolution to the double bind, up to now, has been to work underground and outside of all official channels.

Meanwhile, problems accumulate. The phenomena become like so much dirt swept under the rug. We can all see the mound in the rug, but most of us are too polite and too politic to point a finger. We have a nice little back alley waste disposal system, nice as long as it does not make too big a stench. And stink it does.

It may be just a molehill under that rug, but as the years of studied neglect pass by, our imaginations often run rampant and the repository of anomalies spontaneously breeds little green men and other vermin of all descriptions. This may mean big bucks if you are an entertainment mogul, but it hardly contributes to public trust or enlightenment.

One feels almost like a party pooper to suggest at this belated hour that it is time for an airing out -- a time to audit those books. Will the public lack for entertainment if the little green men turn out to have been nothing more than plasmoids? Well, I am truly sorry, but it is time to let that cookie crumble.

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rev. 5/15/98