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Posted by Alexander Jerri


Are there any real mysteries left? Clearly, we’re not the doe-eyed, innocent public we once were, back when Howdy Doody and Alka Seltzer ruled the popular zeitgeist. It’s not enough for things to be true anymore. Now they must pass a more rigorous test: the test of believability in the laboratory of public opinion. And yet somehow there still remain unsolved phenomena to boggle the jaded mind, shake us out of our trances, and remind us never to trust our senses, our reason, our memory, or the evidence. We live in a truly miraculous time, when anything can be true. 


But only the best things can be SuperTrue®


“Every economic system that has ever existed has had people defending it as the only system consistent with human nature and insisting that every effort to go beyond it is doomed to fail because it contradicts human nature.” – Economist Richard Wolff


Where did they come from that day, those colorful, obese, amorphous, transparent objects that appeared in the sky above Old Country Buffet on the outskirts of Billings, Montana? Why had they come? Was it merely to blast “Everybody Dance Now” as rainbow lasers streamed out of them in every direction like unicorn projectile vomit? 


Within less than a minute, after several vocally anti-LGBTQI closeted Republican Congressmen had spontaneously orgasmed, gushing in tormented ecstasy until their balls were empty, shriveled husks and they died, the Fat Gay UFOs, as they were dubbed by the media, zoomed off along multiple vectors at startling speed, leaving no trace that they had ever been there. All that remained was empty blue sky… and questions.


That’s the way it is with Fat Gay UFOs. One moment they’re there in Montana, squirting rainbows, blasting disco as they wiggle and jiggle in mid-air like blobs of anti-gravity gelatin while they hover, inscrutable, and the next moment they’ve disappeared leaving no clue as to the reason for their confounding yet joyous visit. 


Or at least that’s the way it was the one time we know they visited here. 


The dead Congressmen they left in their wake were remembered as hypocrites who according to some interpretations got what they deserved. The governor of Texas, in response to the incident, and in supposed solidarity with the slender heterosexual people of his state, ordered a statewide ban on rainbow sherbet. The instant that ban went into effect, rainbow sherbet became the most popular flavor in Texas. 


People made their own in the bathtub. They smuggled it in from other states. They bought black market rainbow sherbet from China that was found to contain asbestos and dryer lint. During the ban, over a million Texas residents died from non-FDA-approved toxic sherbet. But they died happy, knowing they’d given their lives for a taste of polychromatic childhood joy. Even children, who couldn’t yet be nostalgic for childhood joy, nevertheless died happy knowing they’d given their lives for a taste of childhood joy. In what became a legendary ritual, the poisoned ones, smiling sweet smiles, died with profane curses for the governor on their lips. The governor eventually died, in an illustration of poetic justice, of anal warthog Ebola. 


A Navy pilot out of San Diego named Prester Thorax, call sign “Bellybutton,” was logging his 33rd flight hour in the experimental aircraft X-88. At the same moment as the Fat Gay UFOs appeared over the Old Country Buffet in Montana, he spotted a bogey on his radar. The bogey was moving at unbelievable speed and headed directly toward Thorax. “This is Bellybutton,” he said over his radio. “Clocking a bogey moving at unbelievable speed. Are you seeing this?” 


“We see your bogey,” the tower responded. “Christ! What the hell is that thing, and how can it possibly be moving so fast? Bellybutton, it’s headed straight for you. Advise evasive maneuvers!”


But it was too late for evasive or any other classification of maneuvers. The gelatinous blob, spewing rainbows, blasting disco, was no sooner spotted, remarked upon, and in direct contact with the X88 than Bellybutton’s aircraft had passed completely through the object, unharmed and seemingly unaffected, except that at the exact moment of penetration, Bellybutton instantly became gay and a bit wistful for the mid-70s club scene.


Lieutenant Prester “Bellybutton” Thorax was wedded to his favorite wing man and radar intercept officer, LTJG Oscar Gossage, call sign “Ostrich,” in an outdoor New Age ceremony on the dance deck of the late Anna Halprin’s Mountain Home Studio, in Kentfield, California, a mere two months after the mysterious incident. One year later, the couple were awarded matching Medals of Valor for courage and strategy above and beyond the obvious in homoerotic beach volleyball. 


As a matter of course there have been a series of inquiries into the appearance of the Fat Gay UFOs. Witnesses have come forward to testify to sighting these phenomena at the same date and time as the Montana visitation and the Bellybutton conversion, from as far afield as Marfa, Texas; Vernon, Florida; and Arkham, Massachusetts. The only conclusion experts have been able to draw is that every man, woman, and gender fluid member of the US Navy is in some way queer or gay. Whether or not this is a result of some influence emanating from the FGUs, or Fat Gay UFOs, or if it has simply always been thus, no clear determination has been made. 


Did the Fat Gay UFOs catalyze, release, or even introduce some kind of joyful hormones in those humans who came under their extraterrestrial sway? Did they merely unlock a kind of love that lay trapped and latent in the impressionable whose lives they touched? Or is everyone apt to love whomever, regardless of classification, at the drop of a hat, and maybe we should stop examining human affection as if it were a chemical process subservient to cause and effect? That third choice seems kind of lazy, and yet why should laziness have a negative connotation? Why should leaving well enough alone even indicate laziness at all? Can’t you just enjoy stuff? What’s wrong with you? Give your irritable scrutinizing a rest, will ya? Stop picking at everything!


The only thing certain is that the Fat Gay UFOs did visit Earth and did leave exactly the positive repercussions one might expect of a gelatinous, rainbow spirting, musical macroglobule. Did they come from outer space? Were they experiments that escaped from a Hawaiian laboratory?

Were they mass hallucinations? Did they ever exist at all except here in this sensationalistic slice of infotainment? 


The conclusion is obvious, and yet irrelevant to the context: the Fat Gay UFOs were entirely good and brought nothing but positive sensations and beautiful solutions to human stress. 


Bellybutton and Ostrich opened a Bed and Breakfast hidden in the Costa Rican jungle, where to this day they entertain everyone and everything that stumbles upon their establishment. 


Is any of what you have just heard true? The question is moot. The story of the Fat Gay UFOs and the beneficial influence they’ve had on humanity doesn’t need to be true. They have come to our attention because they are… SuperTrue®.


This has been the Moment of Truth, your one and only source for SuperTruth®. Good day!