Our last day in Puerto Rico Katie and I enjoyed lunch and then a late checkout. We gathered our things and hailed a taxi from the row of white vans around the corner from our hotel.
As we departed for the airport the driver asked about the purpose of our trip. We told him we were there for a conference and vacation. “What conference?” He wondered. “American Atheists Regional Conference,” we replied.
We talked about what “atheist” meant. I confirmed that I didn’t believe in any gods, devils, miracles, supernatural beings or realms. I chuckled “no, I don’t see any reason to believe such things exist,” and shifted in my seat, when he asked about winged reptilian visitors from outer space. He told us how he was raised Catholic but never believed it. He said a god that demanded submission and worship was an evil character. I agreed.
He continued though, while moving slowly in brisk traffic, to tell us about the winged reptilians who came here thousands of years ago, enslaved humanity, and continue in their influence.
On his dash were lists of Sumerian words, their supposed meanings, and how those words had been corrupted (by the aliens) and passed down to our modern languages. He was very polite but passionate about the subject, and I told him sincerely that I would research it on my own. I don’t buy one bit of it but I’m genuinely fascinated.
He’d seen through the Christian story, deciding it was rubbish. But he bought the stories of reptilian aliens. Something in that narrative convinced him where the faith of his childhood hadn’t. What hooks were in one story that weren’t in the other?