Friday, October 9, 2026

COVID Vaccines Are Gene Therapy, Contrary to Claims by Media ‘Fact-Checkers’

COVID Vaccines Are Gene Therapy, Contrary to Claims by Media ‘Fact-Checkers’ • Children's Health Defense
https://childrenshealthdefense.org/defender/covid-vaccines-gene-therapy-media-fact-checkers-cola/ 

Cancer breakthrough using vaccines?

Of course vaccine is the wrong word as it's really gene therapy, but anyway!


Comments from a researcher I respect very much. One of the smartest people I know...

It looks like the same problem with the other mRNA jabs.

The body is being trained to attack something that the mRNA produces in your cells. The problem is, in what cells?

The mRNA, thanks to the lipids, is circulated throughout your body – or at least chunks of it do. The cells being attacked can therefore be anywhere, such as in your heart.

It might be effective in training your immune system to mass attack particular cancer cells, but it should come with the same massive amount of problems, including crippling and killing the patient.  

Other doctors involved in treating Covid using Ivermectin and Fenbendazol, or rather vets treating animals with parasites, noted that their cancers also cleared up.

In the alt space the treatment for cancer came from the anti-parasite drugs, plus also Zinc, vitamin C and perhaps a few other things.

Remember that interview with Mel Gibson on Joe Rogan where he reported he knew of celebrity friends that were recovering from cancer using those treatments?

Thursday, October 8, 2026

Trump Should Protect the Rights of AI Assisted Musical Artists

Before we get started, please bookmark my music site and check it out after reading this article. And while you're at it, follow me on TikTok at @Crashout.Royalty. That's where you can find more of my music, videos, artwork, and whatever else I'm creating next.

Here's my most recent Hip-Hop release as of this publishing date...

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPLjkEnsM/

And here is my old organic Hardcore/Punk Band ILLITHED

https://mindtreasury.blogspot.com/2018/02/hardcorepunk-band-illithed.html

The AI Music Debate I May Never Have — Because I Value My Time

Hello, I'm the account "Crashout Royalty" for those that are unaware. Multidisciplinary artist and activist researcher JM Talboo AKA BishopNeoWinstonSmith leader of the music group and collective of artists known as #CrashoutAristocrats

Before the imagined debate ensues I want to first acknowledge positive conversations are happening as evinced by the screenshots below. 

I say this because what sparked me writing this is a lot shit talking is taking place online from those opposed to AI music. Makes me wonder if they are industry plants Ad hominem attacks are not an argument, I can talk smack and lay one down too lol but I'll focus on substance and positivity while they act like the miserable people they msst be.

What would happen if I actually debated someone who believes AI-assisted music is inherently inferior to human-made music?

I may never find out.

And that's okay.

One of the reasons I use AI in the first place is because I value my time.

So rather than spending hours arguing with somebody on the internet, I decided to run the entire hypothetical debate through my head.

Here's how I'd approach it.

Not by assuming I'd win every argument.

Not by rigging the experiments.

And not by pretending AI is automatically better than human creativity.

I'd simply ask that we actually examine the claims being made.

And there's an important distinction right from the beginning:

I'm not simply an "AI music maker."

I'm a multidisciplinary artist.

I make music. I write. I perform. I make videos. I make physical artwork. I make digital artwork. I work with photography, animation, costumes, props, locations and visual effects. I showcase other artists and artwork. I use technology. I collaborate with other people. And sometimes I use AI.

Sometimes I use none of it.

That's the bigger picture.

I Don't Like Being Pigeonholed

I've never been particularly interested in being shoved into one category.

Why would I limit myself to one medium just because somebody else wants a convenient label?

If I have an idea that works as a song, I'll make a song.

If it works as a video, I'll make a video.

If it works as an image, I'll make an image.

If it works as physical artwork, I'll make that.

If somebody else's artwork communicates something I want to showcase, I'll showcase it.

If a costume communicates the idea better than words do, I'll put on the costume.

If animation makes the idea stronger, I'll animate it.

If AI helps me accomplish something I couldn't otherwise accomplish—or lets me accomplish it faster—I'll use AI.

I'm not interested in technological purity.

I'm interested in communication and creation.

There Isn't One Way I Make Music

This is where I think a lot of conversations about AI immediately go wrong.

People talk about "AI music" as though there's one standardized process.

There isn't.

I've been making music for years.

I've been in a successful band.

I can perform.

I can rap live.

I've made music without AI.

And I still make music without AI.

AI is simply another set of tools I've added to a much larger creative toolbox.

Sometimes I might use an AI-generated beat and put my own real vocals over it.

Sometimes I might perform the vocals myself and use an AI voice filter as an artistic effect.

Sometimes AI might be involved in the music while the performance itself is completely human.

Sometimes I might use AI for production but write and perform everything else myself.

Sometimes AI is involved in several elements.

Sometimes it's barely involved at all.

Sometimes it isn't involved whatsoever.

So when someone says:

"You're just letting AI make your music."

My response is pretty simple:

Which song?

Which part?

The beat?

My vocals?

The voice effect?

The lyrics?

The concept?

The production?

The video?

The artwork?

What exactly are you talking about?

Because you're imagining one workflow that doesn't actually describe what I do.

I make music in a lot of different ways.

AI is one set of tools I sometimes use within that larger creative process.

The Same Thing Applies to My Videos

And then there's video.

I'm not simply making songs and attaching a generic video to them afterward.

The visual production is its own creative process.

And just like music, I'm interested in using every possible way of making the thing.

AI animation.

Real photographs.

Real video.

Digital imagery.

Physical imagery.

Stickers.

Effects.

Costumes.

Props.

Settings.

Locations.

Practical elements.

Digital manipulation.

Found imagery.

Whatever works.

Sometimes I'll create an entirely artificial image.

Sometimes I'll film something in the real world.

Sometimes I'll take a real photograph and build something around it.

Sometimes I'll make physical artwork and photograph or film it.

Sometimes I'll create digital artwork.

Sometimes I'll take physical artwork and use AI to animate it.

Sometimes Dawn makes physical artwork and I incorporate that into what I'm doing.

Sometimes I'll showcase another artist's work.

Sometimes I'll visit or showcase art in a museum.

Sometimes the strongest visual is simply something I happen to encounter in the real world.

And sometimes I'll combine several of those methods in one project.

That's not a contradiction.

That's the medium.

The Best Results Are Often Hybrids

Think about modern filmmaking.

Computer-generated imagery didn't eliminate practical effects.

Practical effects didn't eliminate sets.

Digital effects didn't eliminate actors.

Photography didn't eliminate painting.

And computer animation didn't eliminate live-action filmmaking.

In fact, some of the most effective visual work comes from combining different techniques.

You can have a real actor standing in a real environment while interacting with a digitally created world.

You can have a physical prop enhanced with computer effects.

You can have real footage combined with animation.

You can have photographs turned into moving imagery.

The best solution isn't necessarily:

"Use only the human method."

It may be:

"Use the right combination of methods for this particular idea."

That's what I'm doing.

The Image Can Say Something the Song Doesn't

There's another reason I care so much about the visual side.

The video doesn't have to simply illustrate the lyrics.

Sometimes it reinforces the song.

Sometimes it expands upon it.

Sometimes it provides another interpretation.

Sometimes it deliberately creates irony.

Sometimes it communicates a completely different but related idea.

You can say a thousand words with an image.

Sometimes more.

A single image can establish a mood, tell a story, suggest a political idea, create symbolism, or make someone question what they're seeing.

I might put something like a They Live flyer into a video.

Maybe the song doesn't literally say the same thing.

That's okay.

The image creates another layer of communication.

The audience makes the connection.

That's part of the artwork.

Visual Language Is Different From Verbal Language

An image isn't simply a paragraph without words.

Visual language works differently.

A costume can communicate satire.

A setting can communicate danger.

A photograph can communicate nostalgia.

A surreal image can communicate an emotional state.

A juxtaposition can create an argument without anybody speaking.

A symbol can make someone think about an idea without spelling out the conclusion.

And sometimes an image can communicate something in a way that a literal statement simply can't.

That's one of the reasons I'm interested in visual storytelling.

I'm not just making a music video.

I'm building another layer of the message.

Physical Art Counts Too

And this is another reason I don't want to be reduced to "AI artist."

I make physical art.

I work with physical objects.

I showcase artwork other people create.

Dawn makes artwork that I can incorporate into the larger creative world.

I make digital artwork too.

And sometimes I'll take something that physically exists and use AI or other digital tools to animate or transform it.

So now we've got:

physical → digital → animated → combined with video → combined with music.

Where exactly are you going to draw the line and tell me which part is the "real art"?

That's the wrong question.

The better question is:

What did the artist create, and what was the artist trying to communicate?

Technology Has Always Disrupted Art

And this isn't even a uniquely modern argument.

We've been having versions of this argument for centuries.

Whenever a new technology changes who can create, who can distribute art, or what art can sound or look like, somebody eventually says:

"This is going to ruin everything."

Sometimes that person has a point.

Sometimes they're completely wrong.

Usually it's more complicated than either side wants to admit.

But the pattern is worth recognizing.

There were people who were suspicious of ordinary people having widespread access to writing.

Then came the printing press.

Suddenly information could be reproduced and distributed on a scale that was previously impossible.

Then came newspapers and mass publishing.

Then radio.

Then recorded music.

Then television.

Then home video.

Then the internet.

Then digital recording.

Then digital photography.

And now we're dealing with generative AI.

Every one of these technologies changed the creative landscape.

And every time, there were people who looked at the new technology and said, in one form or another:

"That's not real art."

"Video Killed the Radio Star"

There's a reason a phrase like "Video Killed the Radio Star" became culturally memorable.

It captured a real fear about technological change.

Radio didn't literally disappear.

The radio star didn't literally die.

Instead, the culture changed.

Television created a new requirement: artists could suddenly become visual personalities in addition to being voices.

That changed what a successful performer looked like.

And then television itself was eventually challenged by cable, home video, the internet, streaming and social media.

The old medium doesn't necessarily disappear.

The ecosystem changes around it.

That's an important distinction.

The Printing Press Didn't Destroy Human Culture

The printing press is another good example.

Imagine living in a world where books are expensive, labor-intensive objects that have to be copied by hand.

Then suddenly you have technology capable of reproducing text on an enormous scale.

You could reasonably be concerned about misinformation.

You could be concerned about low-quality writing.

You could be concerned about people flooding society with garbage.

You could be concerned about political propaganda spreading faster.

Those concerns wouldn't necessarily be stupid.

But the answer wasn't:

"Therefore, nobody should print books."

The technology created enormous new possibilities while also creating new problems.

That's often what technological progress actually looks like.

Newspapers and the Internet

The same thing happened when the internet disrupted newspapers.

People worried about what would happen to journalism.

Some of those concerns were absolutely justified.

The internet created incredible opportunities for independent publishing, but it also created misinformation, clickbait, declining traditional revenue models and all sorts of other problems.

So I'm not going to make the simplistic argument that every technological disruption is automatically good.

Sometimes we should be wary.

Sometimes older ways of doing things really do contain wisdom that we shouldn't throw away.

But that's different from saying:

"New technology exists, therefore everything created with it is artistically worthless."

Those are two completely different arguments.

The Guitar Didn't Stay the Guitar

Music has gone through this process constantly.

The acoustic guitar existed.

Then amplification changed what the guitar could do.

Then the electric guitar arrived.

And there were plenty of people who thought it was loud, obnoxious noise.

Then people figured out what could be done with it.

Entire genres developed around that sound.

The instrument didn't become objectively "better" than the acoustic guitar.

It became different.

And different artists wanted different things from it.

That's the key.

Three Chords vs. Stevie Ray Vaughan

I remember the kind of argument people made about bands like Nirvana and other grunge artists.

You'd hear the criticism:

"They only know three chords."

That's obviously an oversimplification, but the criticism illustrates something interesting.

Someone could look at Stevie Ray Vaughan and admire his technical ability, musicianship and complexity.

And that's perfectly legitimate.

But that doesn't mean the aesthetic of Stevie Ray Vaughan is automatically superior to the aesthetic of a stripped-down grunge song.

Sometimes three or four chords are exactly what the song needs.

Sometimes technical complexity is the point.

Sometimes simplicity is the point.

Sometimes virtuosity communicates.

Sometimes restraint communicates.

The question isn't:

"Which musician worked harder to master technical complexity?"

The question is:

"What is this artist trying to communicate, and does the chosen method communicate it?"

That's an important distinction for AI too.

A technologically complicated production isn't automatically better than a simple one.

And a technically simple production isn't automatically worse.

Complexity isn't the same thing as quality.

People Fear Change for Good Reasons Sometimes

This is where I don't want to turn the argument into some simplistic:

"Old people fear technology and young people understand progress."

That's bullshit.

People sometimes fear technological change for legitimate reasons.

Some technologies genuinely cause harm.

Some things that were once celebrated as progress turned out to have consequences we didn't understand.

Sometimes the people saying "slow down" were right.

Sometimes the people saying "this is going to cause problems" were right.

We should be willing to listen to them.

But there's another lesson from history:

Being concerned about a technology isn't the same as proving that everything created with that technology is worthless.

And that's where I think the AI conversation often goes off the rails.

Technology Changes the Definition of Possible

Every major creative technology expands the range of things an artist can do.

The microphone changed singing.

Recording technology changed songwriting.

Multitrack recording changed arrangement.

The electric guitar changed rock.

Synthesizers changed electronic music and eventually countless other genres.

Sampling changed hip-hop.

Digital audio workstations changed music production.

Digital cameras changed photography.

Computer graphics changed filmmaking.

The internet changed distribution.

Smartphones turned almost everybody into a potential photographer and filmmaker.

AI is doing something similar.

It's changing the distance between:

"I have an idea."

and

"I made the thing."

That's enormous.

So Let's Actually Test the Music

Suppose someone tells me that AI music is obviously inferior to human music.

Okay.

Let's test it.

I'd propose ten songs with broadly comparable themes.

Peace.

Humanity.

Love.

Freedom.

Overcoming hatred.

Making the world a better place.

Five would involve AI assistance.

Five would be entirely human-made.

The listener wouldn't know which was which.

But here's the important part:

I wouldn't initially ask them to identify the AI songs.

I'd ask them to judge the music.

Which songs communicate their message most effectively?

Which are best written?

Which are most emotionally powerful?

Which are most memorable?

Which would they actually listen to again?

Which make them think?

Which make them feel something?

Then, after they've made their judgments, we reveal how the songs were created.

Only then would we test their ability to identify AI involvement.

Because those are two completely different questions.

Can you identify AI?

And:

Does AI involvement make a piece of music worse?

Being good at the first doesn't automatically prove the second.

What If They're Really Good at Spotting AI?

Maybe they are.

That's entirely possible.

Maybe they've listened to enough AI music to recognize certain production characteristics that most people don't notice.

Great.

Let's test that too.

We could compare their results with other listeners.

Musicians.

Non-musicians.

People who listen to enormous amounts of music.

People who don't.

Maybe they absolutely crush the test.

Maybe everybody does.

Maybe nobody does.

Maybe some people are extremely good at it and others are terrible.

Whatever happens, that's useful information.

I'm not afraid of an experiment simply because it might produce a result I don't expect.

That's what makes it an experiment.

And if somebody really is exceptionally good at recognizing AI music, I'd rather find that out than pretend otherwise.

But identifying the technology is still not the same thing as proving that the art is inferior.

Then Let's Remove the Blindfold

Now let's make it personal.

Take one of my songs.

Let's use something like Naptown.

I'll perform the song for you myself.

Live.

No AI.

Just me.

Then I'll play you the AI-assisted version I created.

Now tell me which vocal performance you prefer.

Maybe you'll prefer mine.

I'd actually expect that in some cases. I'm a performer. I'd hope my live performance has strengths that an AI-generated performance doesn't.

Maybe you'll prefer the AI version.

That's possible too.

And here's the funny part:

Either result is interesting.

If you tell me my live performance is better, I'm not going to throw a fit.

I'll probably say:

"Yeah. I'm a performer. I'd fucking hope so."

But then we have to ask what we've actually demonstrated.

The Part People Leave Out: Reality

Maybe when I made that song, I didn't have a studio available to me.

Maybe I was going through some difficult shit in my life.

Maybe I didn't have the money for studio time.

Maybe I didn't have musicians available.

Maybe I didn't have the time to sit there and record thirty takes of the same line.

Maybe AI allowed me to turn an idea into a finished song that otherwise would have remained an idea.

That's not a hypothetical benefit.

That's how technology works.

People sometimes look at the final product and completely ignore the circumstances that made the product possible.

If my human vocal performance is slightly better but the AI-assisted version allowed me to actually finish the song under circumstances where the alternative was not making the song at all, then what exactly have I lost?

And what have I gained?

I gained a finished song.

I saved time.

I saved money.

I didn't need a studio.

I didn't need to coordinate multiple people.

I didn't need to spend hours and money getting another take every time I flubbed a line.

And I could move on to the next idea.

That matters.

What If They Prefer the AI Version?

Now let's turn the tables.

Suppose they listen to both versions and say:

"Honestly, I like the AI version better."

I'm not going to pretend I lost.

I'm going to say:

"Well, shit. Great."

Because I wanted the song to communicate.

If I had something I genuinely wanted to say, and the technology helped me say it in a way that somebody found more enjoyable, understandable or emotionally effective, then the technology accomplished something useful.

I don't need the human version to win every comparison.

The song winning is enough.

And What If They Say the Human Version Is Better?

That's useful too.

Maybe the human version has something the AI version doesn't.

Maybe I have a vocal characteristic that can't be replicated.

Maybe the human performance has a particular imperfection that makes it more compelling.

Fine.

Then I've learned something about the strengths of human performance.

That doesn't prove AI has no value.

It proves that humans and AI can have different strengths.

That's called having different tools.

The Mother's Day Problem

There's another experiment that I don't think an AI critic can solve with a simple production argument.

Suppose I make a tribute song for my mother.

She's getting older.

I have things I want to say to her.

I use AI to help turn those thoughts into a song quickly.

She hears it.

And she cries.

Now somebody tells me:

"Yeah, but it was made with AI."

Okay.

So?

Does that make her tears less real?

Did the emotional response somehow disappear because I used a machine to help construct the song?

Did the love I was trying to express become less genuine?

Did the words suddenly stop meaning what they meant?

No.

The technology doesn't get to rewrite the emotional experience that happened afterward.

My mother didn't cry because she performed a philosophical analysis of my production process.

She cried because I made something for her that meant something to her.

That's important.

Efficiency Doesn't Equal Emptiness

There is a strange assumption that if something becomes easier to produce, it must become less meaningful.

But that's not how technology has historically worked.

A camera didn't make photography meaningless.

Digital editing didn't make filmmaking meaningless.

The synthesizer didn't make music meaningless.

The electric guitar didn't make songwriting meaningless.

Recording technology didn't make live performance meaningless.

Technology repeatedly changes the distance between an idea and its final form.

And that's exactly what AI does for me.

I have more ideas than I could possibly execute using traditional methods alone.

AI reduces the distance between:

"I have an idea."

and

"I made the thing."

That's not necessarily a reduction in creativity.

Sometimes it's an expansion of creativity.

The Real-World Economics Matter Too

Artists don't create in a vacuum.

People have limited money.

Limited time.

Limited access to musicians.

Limited access to studios.

Limited physical energy.

Limited opportunities.

Sometimes you're dealing with family obligations.

Sometimes you're dealing with work.

Sometimes life is simply kicking your ass.

A person might have ten songs in their head and only enough money to record one.

What happens to the other nine?

AI can sometimes change that equation.

Maybe it doesn't produce the same result as a professional studio.

Maybe it does.

But if it allows someone to create something that otherwise wouldn't exist, that's not automatically a negative.

The alternative isn't always "human-made masterpiece."

Sometimes the alternative is:

nothing.

And I'd rather have another imperfect song in the world that genuinely communicates something than have a great idea remain trapped in somebody's head because they couldn't afford the conventional production process.

I'm Not Claiming AI Does Everything

I don't need to claim that AI is superior to humans.

I don't need to claim that AI can replace musicians.

I don't even need to claim that every AI-generated song is good.

Some are garbage.

So are some human-made songs.

Human beings have been making terrible music for a very long time.

The existence of bad AI music doesn't prove that AI music is inherently bad any more than the existence of bad human music proves that humans shouldn't make music.

What matters is what happens when a particular person uses a particular tool to create a particular piece of work.

And Sometimes I Don't Use AI At All

This is worth emphasizing because it destroys the idea that I'm somehow dependent on AI to make music or art.

Sometimes I use it.

Sometimes I don't.

Sometimes I use it heavily.

Sometimes I use it for one small component.

Sometimes I might use AI for a beat but have real vocals.

Sometimes I might have real vocals and use an AI voice filter as an artistic effect.

Sometimes the music is human and the imagery is AI.

Sometimes the music is AI-assisted and the video is AI-assisted too.

Sometimes I'm mixing all of these things.

Sometimes I'm using physical art.

Sometimes I'm using digital art.

Sometimes I'm filming reality exactly as it exists.

Sometimes I'm taking something physical and transforming it digitally.

Sometimes I'm working entirely without AI.

The point is that I choose the tool based on the project.

I'm not pledging allegiance to a machine.

I'm making art.

The Human Is Still Here

This is the part that gets lost in a lot of these arguments.

When I use AI to make music, I'm still here.

I'm deciding what I want to say.

I'm choosing the subject.

I'm writing and shaping ideas.

I'm directing the process.

I'm deciding what works and what doesn't.

I'm rejecting things.

I'm rewriting things.

I'm making artistic choices.

Sometimes I'm performing.

Sometimes I'm using real vocals.

Sometimes I'm combining human performance with AI.

Sometimes I'm using AI for parts of the production.

Sometimes I'm using it because I simply don't have the resources to do something another way.

The fact that a machine participates doesn't mean the human disappeared.

So What Exactly Makes It "Fake"?

At some point I'd stop talking about individual songs and ask the fundamental question:

What exactly makes an AI-assisted song illegitimate?

Is it the sound?

Then let's listen.

Is it the songwriting?

Then let's compare the songwriting.

Is it the emotional impact?

Then let's see what listeners actually experience.

Is it the amount of human labor?

Okay. Let's discuss what the human actually contributed.

Is it the fact that a machine was involved at all?

Now we're no longer talking about whether the music is good.

We're talking about a philosophical objection to the tool.

That's a legitimate position for somebody to have.

But it's important to call it what it is.

The Tool Doesn't Have to Win

This might be the most important part of the whole argument.

I'm not trying to rig these experiments so that AI wins.

Every single comparison is a crapshoot.

Maybe the human song wins.

Maybe the AI song wins.

Maybe the results split right down the middle.

Maybe the person I'm debating identifies every AI song correctly.

Maybe they completely screw it up.

Maybe they identify AI correctly but still prefer several AI-assisted songs.

Maybe they can't identify them at all.

Maybe my live performance beats the AI version.

Maybe the AI version beats my live performance.

I'm willing to live with any of those outcomes.

Because I'm not trying to prove that humans are obsolete.

I'm trying to challenge the idea that the presence of AI automatically determines the value of the finished work.

The Same Principle Applies to the Visuals

If somebody tells me:

"That image doesn't count because AI made it."

My answer is basically the same.

Okay.

Let's look at the image.

Does it communicate?

Does it create the intended mood?

Does it tell a story?

Does it make you curious?

Does it reinforce the music?

Does it create a useful contrast?

Does it make you feel something?

And if the answer is yes, then the fact that AI participated tells me something about how it was made.

It doesn't automatically tell me whether it worked.

Likewise, if I take a real photograph, add stickers and effects, animate part of it with AI, put it over my music, and then combine it with footage I shot myself while wearing a costume in a real location, what exactly is the "real" part?

All of it.

Because all of those are materials I intentionally assembled into a finished piece.

The Question I'd Eventually Ask

At some point I'd ask:

"What exactly are we trying to measure?"

If we're measuring whether somebody can recognize AI, let's measure that.

If we're measuring vocal performance, let's compare vocal performances.

If we're measuring songwriting, let's judge songwriting.

If we're measuring emotional impact, let's see what actually moves people.

If we're measuring efficiency, let's discuss how much time and money different production methods require.

If we're measuring artistic authenticity, then we'd better define what we mean by authenticity.

But let's stop treating all of those questions as though they're the same question.

They're not.

My Position Isn't "AI Is Better"

My position is much simpler.

AI is another tool.

Sometimes it's the right tool.

Sometimes it isn't.

Sometimes human performance is better.

Sometimes AI-assisted production is better.

Sometimes the combination is better than either one alone.

And sometimes I don't use AI at all.

The fact that I can make music and art in different ways is not a weakness in my argument.

It's the argument.

I've already made music without AI.

Now I have additional tools.

Why would I voluntarily pretend those tools don't exist?

I'm a Multidisciplinary Artist

That phrase might sound fancy.

Maybe it is.

But I think it's accurate.

I'm not limited to one artistic medium.

I don't want to be.

I've never liked being pigeonholed.

I'm interested in whatever medium best communicates the idea.

Sometimes that's a song.

Sometimes that's a photograph.

Sometimes it's a painting or physical object.

Sometimes it's a digital image.

Sometimes it's a video.

Sometimes it's animation.

Sometimes it's a costume.

Sometimes it's a combination of all of them.

Sometimes it's somebody else's artwork that I think deserves to be seen.

Sometimes it's Dawn's artwork.

Sometimes it's something I encountered in the real world.

Sometimes it's AI-assisted.

Sometimes it isn't.

That's not inconsistency.

That's creative freedom.

Everything Is Material

There's another philosophy behind all of this.

I tend to see almost everything as material.

An argument can become an article.

A strange experience can become a song.

A photograph can become a visual.

A physical object can become artwork.

A piece of artwork can become animation.

A conversation can become an idea.

A walk can become a video.

A costume can become a character.

A location can become a setting.

A random image can become symbolism.

Even an annoying argument with somebody on the internet can become useful.

That doesn't mean I'm exploiting every moment of my life for clicks.

Quite the opposite.

Sometimes the desire to create content actually gets me out there living more life.

Maybe I want to film something, so I take the dogs for a walk when I otherwise might have stayed home.

Maybe I'm outside and the sun hits the snow just right.

Maybe Harley's shadow falls across a church.

Maybe I capture that.

Now I've had a novel experience.

I've spent time with my dog.

I've gotten outside.

I've created something.

I've broken up the routine.

And I've given myself another memory.

The content becomes a reason to participate in life rather than a substitute for living it.

And sometimes those novel experiences are valuable precisely because they make time feel more substantial in retrospect.

So even the act of creating can feed back into the life that I'm creating from.

That's the loop.

Life produces art.

Art encourages me to experience more life.

Those experiences produce more art.

And around and around it goes.

The Entire Toolbox

That's ultimately why I reject the idea that I need to choose between:

human creativity

and

technology.

Why?

Why can't I have both?

Why can't I use my own voice and an AI beat?

Why can't I make physical artwork and then animate it digitally?

Why can't I photograph something real and add artificial elements?

Why can't I use a costume, a real location, practical props and computer-generated imagery in the same video?

Why can't I showcase another artist's work alongside my own?

Why can't Dawn make something and I incorporate it into a project?

Why can't a museum inspire a video?

Why can't a fictional image communicate a real idea?

Why can't a machine help me turn an idea into something I can actually show people?

Why would I deliberately limit the toolbox?

So What Am I Actually Asking?

I'm not asking anybody to worship AI.

I'm not asking anybody to abandon traditional art.

I'm not asking anybody to pretend that AI-generated material is automatically brilliant.

I'm asking for something much simpler:

Judge the work.

Judge the song.

Judge the performance.

Judge the image.

Judge the video.

Judge the message.

Judge the emotional impact.

Judge the craftsmanship.

Judge the choices.

And then, if you want, ask how it was made.

But don't reverse that order and decide whether something has artistic value before you've even looked at it.

Because ultimately, I don't think the most important question is:

"Was AI involved?"

I think it's:

"What did you do with it?"

And if somebody still wants to debate me after reading all of this?

Fair enough.

Bring your arguments.

I'll bring mine.

But remember:

I value my time.

So if you want to debate me, you're gonna have to pay me.

Have a nice day.

Debunking Young Earth Creation Theorists?


The mainstream scientific establishment is overall very much against creationist theory. Why then are they so opposed to studying Bigfoot?  🫈 Seems odd.  I'm not making a statement. I'm simply posing a question. If someone wants to give me an answer please do email with it at: jmtalboo@gmail.com 

But do not say it's because there is no scientific evidence for the existence of Sasquatch, because that simply is not true!


Evidence isn't absolute proof of course, but otherwise what a load of absolute rubbish! There are plenty of highly-credible scientists in the most relevant of disciplines who correctly think otherwise and therefore this statement is BUNK! 

1. Dr. Jeff Meldrum — Anatomy, Anthropology & Locomotion

Jeff Meldrum is an anthropologist and anatomist at Idaho State University whose specialties include foot morphology, locomotion and the evolution of bipedalism in humans and other primates.

His examination of alleged Sasquatch footprints is particularly relevant because the evidence falls directly within his areas of expertise.

Meldrum has repeatedly emphasized that his argument is not that the evidence constitutes absolute proof, but that it warrants investigation. His book Sasquatch: Legend Meets Science examines footprints, dermal ridges, photographs, hair, DNA and other evidence.

2. Dr. Jane Goodall — Primatology

Jane Goodall hardly needs an introduction.

The legendary primatologist has publicly expressed an open mind toward the possibility of Sasquatch while acknowledging that existing evidence has not satisfied most scientists.

That's an important distinction.

She isn't saying, “Bigfoot has been proven.”

She's saying the question shouldn't simply be dismissed.

3. Dr. Grover Krantz — Anthropology & Human Evolution

Anthropologist Grover Krantz studied alleged Sasquatch footprints and handprints from an anatomical and evolutionary perspective.

His work included analysis of alleged dermal ridge patterns and the unusual anatomical characteristics claimed in some footprint casts.

Again, agreement with Krantz isn't required.

The relevant fact is that an academically trained anthropologist considered the physical evidence worthy of detailed analysis.

4. Dr. John Bindernagel — Zoology

Canadian zoologist John Bindernagel devoted substantial attention to the possibility of a large, undiscovered North American primate.

His work examined the ecological question of whether such an animal could theoretically exist in North America and whether the reports deserved scientific investigation.

His work is another example of someone with relevant scientific training treating Sasquatch as a zoological question rather than merely a campfire story.

5. Jimmy Chilcutt — Fingerprint & Primate Dermatoglyphics

Jimmy Chilcutt is particularly interesting because his expertise is directly relevant to one of the strangest categories of alleged Sasquatch evidence: dermal ridges.

Chilcutt worked in law enforcement as a fingerprint examiner and has examined alleged Sasquatch track casts for fingerprint-like ridge patterns.

His conclusions regarding some casts were controversial, but they were based on an area of forensic examination in which he had professional experience. Sasquatch: Legend Meets Science specifically discusses his examination of dermal ridge evidence.

6. Dr. Henner Fahrenbach — Hair & Physical Evidence

Dr. Henner Fahrenbach investigated alleged Sasquatch hair and other physical evidence and also conducted statistical work concerning reported Sasquatch characteristics.

Hair attributed to Sasquatch has been subjected to multiple forms of analysis, including DNA testing. Some samples have ultimately been identified as human, which is important evidence against simply assuming every unusual hair represents an unknown animal.

But the existence of the investigations themselves demonstrates that physical samples have been collected and subjected to scientific examination.

7. Dr. Daris Swindler — Primatology & Anatomy

Daris Swindler was a prominent primate anatomist associated with Washington State University.

He examined the controversial Skookum cast, along with other researchers including Meldrum and primatologist Esteban Sarmiento.

Whatever conclusion one reaches about the cast, the fact remains that trained primate specialists were brought in to examine it anatomically.

8. Dr. Esteban Sarmiento — Primatology & Human Evolution

Esteban Sarmiento, a primatologist and researcher associated with the American Museum of Natural History, was another specialist involved in examination of Sasquatch-related physical evidence.

His participation is particularly relevant because primate anatomy and evolution are directly related to evaluating claims of an unknown large primate.

That doesn't make every interpretation of the evidence correct.

It does make the subject difficult to accurately characterize as something that qualified scientists have simply never investigated.

9. Dr. George Schaller — Wildlife Biology

George Schaller is one of the world's most respected wildlife biologists and conservation scientists.

Schaller has expressed skepticism about whether the existing evidence establishes Sasquatch, but he has also recognized the value of critically examining the evidence.

In his comments about Meldrum's work, Schaller described Meldrum as bringing scientific rigor to the question and praised his footprint analysis.

That's an important example because scientific engagement doesn't require accepting the final hypothesis.

10. Dr. Robert Benson — Bioacoustics

Robert Benson examined alleged Sasquatch vocalizations using computerized acoustic analysis.

His area of expertise is particularly relevant to reports involving unexplained sounds and vocalizations.

Again, the existence of an acoustic analysis does not automatically establish that the sounds came from Bigfoot.

But it demonstrates that alleged Sasquatch evidence has been subjected to specialized scientific analysis rather than simply accepted or rejected based on someone's personal opinion.

11. Dr. Craig Newton — DNA Analysis

Craig Newton was involved in DNA testing of biological samples associated with the Skookum site.

The results and limitations of such testing are part of the larger debate over alleged Sasquatch biological evidence.

And this is precisely why DNA evidence needs to be discussed carefully.

Some alleged Sasquatch samples have produced ordinary human or known-animal results. Others have generated questions about contamination, sample quality, identification and interpretation.

That's evidence to investigate—not automatically proof of an unknown primate.

12. Dr. Russell Ciochon — Paleontology & Human Evolution

Russell Ciochon is a paleoanthropologist whose work includes fossil primates and human evolution.

His involvement in Sasquatch: Legend Meets Science provided another perspective on the possible relationship between reports of giant unknown primates and extinct primates such as Gigantopithecus.

This does not mean Gigantopithecus has been demonstrated to be Bigfoot.

It means that questions about unknown or extinct primates can be examined through legitimate disciplines such as paleontology, anatomy and evolutionary biology.

So, the vast majority of relevant qualified scientists not looking for this possible missing link for evolutionary theory they vehemently defend are proving themselves to be quite dogmatic. Maybe pseudoscience is their religion? 

Undebunking Bigfoot

Debunking Pseudo-Skepticism Regarding the Topic of Sasquatch

One More Thought...

Some people have suggested that Bigfoot could actually be connected to the Nephilim mentioned in the Bible.

I'm not saying that's true.

But if you're looking for ways to put some of these creationist ideas to rest, perhaps it's time to get on the Bigfoot case ASAP.

After all, if Sasquatch turned out to be a real, previously unknown primate, that would be a pretty damn interesting development for evolutionary science.

So what are we waiting for?

Investigate the Bigfoot. 😂

And Since We're Talking About Bigfoot...

Here are two recent songs from my music featuring lyrics about Bigfoot, along with videos and pictures of me with Bigfoot.

Follow/subscribe on TikTok: @Crashout.Royalty

Bigfoot song #1 — TikTok

Bigfoot song #2 — TikTok



Sunday, October 4, 2026

VIDEO: Students can’t answer basic questions about 9/11

VIDEO: Students can’t answer basic questions about 9/11

Ahead of the 19th anniversary of the September 11th terrorist attacks, Campus Reform spoke to students to see what they knew about the tragic event in the nation’s history.

While most students had very broad and general knowledge about the day’s events, many did not know basic details about which U.S. cities were attacked and who was responsible for the attacks.

https://archives.infowars.com/video-students-cant-answer-basic-questions-about-9-11/ 

10 Reasons Some Trump Supporters Are Turning Against Him

10 Reasons Some Trump Supporters Are Turning Against Him

Donald Trump still has an intensely loyal political following. That hasn't disappeared. But loyalty isn't the same thing as satisfaction, and there are signs that some of the people who once supported Trump enthusiastically are becoming disappointed, frustrated, or simply less enthusiastic.

That doesn't mean Trump's entire base has abandoned him. Far from it. But the Trump coalition has never been as monolithic as it sometimes appears, and different parts of that coalition supported him for very different reasons.

So what has changed?

Here are ten reasons some Trump supporters are turning against him—or at least becoming less enthusiastic.

1. “No More Endless Wars” Doesn't Look Like What They Expected

For many Trump voters, one of his most attractive promises was that he would keep America out of unnecessary foreign wars.

Trump repeatedly presented himself as the president who would end the era of endless wars. During the 2024 campaign, he talked about bringing an end to years of war and chaos, said he could stop wars, and promised that America would have “no more wars.”

There is an important qualification, however.

Trump has never been a traditional pacifist. He has long taken a hard line toward Iran, supported military pressure against America's adversaries, and during his first presidency ordered military action, including the killing of Iranian General Qasem Soleimani.

So it would be inaccurate to say Trump promised never to use military force.

But many voters heard something broader: Trump would be extremely reluctant to get America involved in another major foreign war.

That is why the conflict with Iran has been such a difficult issue for some of his supporters.

Trump argues that the operation is limited and necessary rather than another endless war. Critics—and some former supporters—see something that looks dangerously similar to the type of foreign intervention Trump once criticized.

The distinction matters.

Trump didn't promise that America would never fight. But he did build a substantial part of his political identity around the idea that he was the president who would not get America trapped in another endless conflict.

For supporters who voted for that promise, the question isn't simply whether the war is justified.

It's whether this is what they thought they were voting for.

2. The Cost of Living Hasn't Matched the Promise

Economic frustration is probably even more important.

Trump's political appeal has always included the promise that ordinary Americans would be better off under his leadership.

But voters don't experience the economy primarily through GDP figures or stock-market indexes. They experience it at the grocery store, the gas pump, the mortgage company and the rent payment.

If prices remain painfully high, a president can have a long list of explanations—and voters can still be dissatisfied.

That creates a particularly difficult problem for Trump because economic expectations were so high.

Some supporters believed Trump would quickly restore the purchasing power they associated with his first term. When that doesn't happen, explanations about inflation, Federal Reserve policy, global economics, previous administrations, corporations or supply chains can start sounding like excuses.

The political reality is simple:

People judge an economy by what it feels like to live in it.

And some Trump supporters don't feel better off.

3. Tariffs Have Become a Problem for Some Supporters

Trump has always viewed tariffs very differently from many traditional Republicans.

He sees them as a negotiating weapon, a way to pressure foreign governments and a tool for encouraging domestic production.

Some supporters enthusiastically agree.

Others have become less convinced.

Tariffs can produce winners and losers. They may protect certain domestic industries, but they can also raise costs for businesses and consumers, particularly when companies depend on imported materials or products.

This creates an awkward political problem for Trump.

Many of the people who voted for him did so because they wanted lower prices.

If tariffs are perceived as contributing to higher prices, some voters may begin asking whether the cure is creating another problem.

That doesn't automatically mean Trump's tariff philosophy is wrong.

It means the policy has a real tradeoff—and voters who are feeling that tradeoff may become less enthusiastic.

4. The “Drain the Swamp” Promise vs. Governing From Inside the System

Trump's original political appeal was partly based on his promise to disrupt Washington.

He was the outsider.

He wasn't supposed to behave like a conventional politician.

He promised to “drain the swamp,” challenge entrenched interests and take on the bureaucracy.

But eventually, even the most unconventional president has to govern through institutions.

He needs cabinet officials. He needs congressional allies. He needs lawyers, agencies, advisers, donors and political organizations.

That creates a problem for people who supported Trump specifically because they wanted to see the entire Washington establishment shaken up.

Some of them now see Trump as part of the system he once attacked.

And this criticism isn't necessarily coming from Democrats.

Some of the loudest complaints come from people who say Trump hasn't gone far enough in dismantling the institutions they dislike—or that he has surrounded himself with people who are too much a part of Washington's traditional political machinery.

The irony is that governing is much harder than campaigning.

The outsider eventually has to become the insider.

And some voters don't like the transformation.

5. Immigration Isn't the Same Political Issue It Once Was

Immigration remains important to Trump supporters, but its political position has changed.

Trump made border security one of the defining issues of his political career.

And when illegal crossings fall dramatically, something politically strange can happen:

The issue can become less visible because the problem appears to be improving.

That means voters who once ranked immigration as their number-one concern may start focusing on something else.

For Trump, that “something else” is often the economy.

There is also a second problem.

Once voters believe the border is secure, they may begin asking what comes next.

A politician can campaign for years on fixing a problem. But once voters believe the problem has been substantially fixed, they don't necessarily continue giving him credit indefinitely.

In other words, success can actually reduce the political importance of the issue.

That doesn't mean Trump's immigration policies have become irrelevant.

It means the political landscape has moved.

6. “America First” vs. a More Interventionist Foreign Policy

Trump's “America First” message has always contained a tension.

On one hand, it means putting American interests ahead of international commitments.

On the other hand, Trump believes America has enormous military and economic power—and that power can be used to force America's adversaries to change their behavior.

Those two ideas can coexist.

But they can also collide.

A voter who interpreted “America First” as “stop spending American blood and treasure on foreign conflicts” may become frustrated when the administration becomes deeply involved in another international confrontation.

Another voter may see military action as precisely what “America First” requires.

This is one reason Trump's coalition isn't as simple as “isolationist” versus “interventionist.”

There are Trump supporters on both sides.

But when foreign policy becomes more aggressive, some voters who came to Trump because of his opposition to the foreign-policy establishment may wonder whether the old Trump is still there.

7. Some Supporters Think Trump Is Fighting the Wrong Battles

Trump has always been a fighter.

That's one of the things his supporters like about him.

But being willing to fight is not the same thing as always fighting the battles your supporters care about.

Some Trump voters want him focused on inflation, wages, housing, energy, immigration and foreign policy.

Instead, they sometimes see enormous amounts of political energy devoted to personal feuds, media battles, cultural controversies and disputes with political opponents.

To Trump's strongest supporters, those fights can be part of the larger struggle.

To others, they can look like distractions.

A voter might agree with Trump on ten major issues and still become frustrated because the president seems to spend more time fighting about something else.

This isn't necessarily a policy disagreement.

It's a question of priorities.

8. Some People Voted for 2016 Trump and Are Now Judging 2026 Trump

This may be one of the biggest changes of all.

Trump is no longer the political outsider he was in 2016.

He's a former president, a current president, a movement leader and one of the most recognizable political figures in modern American history.

That changes expectations.

In 2016, Trump could say:

“I alone can fix it.”

He was promising what he would do.

Now voters can look at what he has actually done.

That means Trump's record is no longer hypothetical.

Supporters can compare promises with results.

They can ask:

Did prices come down?

Did government get smaller?

Did Washington change?

Did foreign wars decrease?

Did immigration improve?

Did their lives get better?

And they can reach different conclusions.

Some will say Trump delivered.

Others will say he didn't deliver enough.

Still others will say he delivered on some promises while failing on others.

That's a much more complicated political relationship than the one Trump had with many voters in 2016.

9. The Trump Coalition Was Never One Single Group

There is a tendency to talk about “Trump supporters” as if they are one giant bloc.

They're not.

There are social conservatives.

There are economic populists.

There are libertarians.

There are national-security hawks.

There are isolationists.

There are working-class voters.

There are wealthy business owners.

There are people who care primarily about immigration.

There are people who care primarily about abortion.

There are people who care primarily about taxes.

There are people who simply hate the Democratic Party.

And there are people who genuinely like Trump personally.

Those groups can support the same candidate while wanting very different things.

That means a policy that makes one faction happy can alienate another.

Trump's success has always depended on holding these groups together.

The challenge is that maintaining a coalition is much harder once you are actually governing.

Eventually, somebody doesn't get what they want.

10. Some Supporters Are Judging Trump by the Same Standard They Use for Everyone Else

This may be the most important reason of all.

Trump has always benefited from a certain amount of political loyalty.

Some supporters were willing to forgive things they would never forgive in another politician because they believed Trump was fighting for them.

But political loyalty has limits.

Eventually, some voters begin asking a different question:

“If a Democrat had done this, what would I say?”

That can be a powerful moment.

A Trump supporter who once defended almost everything he did may begin separating the man from the policies.

They may still agree with Trump on immigration.

They may still like his economic nationalism.

They may still believe the 2020 election was mishandled.

They may still dislike the Democratic Party.

But they may nevertheless conclude that a particular Trump policy was wrong.

That's not necessarily betrayal.

It may simply be political maturity.

You don't have to decide that a politician is either completely right or completely wrong.

You can believe someone was right about one issue and wrong about another.

And that may ultimately be the healthiest way to judge any president.

Has Trump Actually Lost His Base?

Not exactly.

There is still a substantial and intensely loyal Trump constituency.

But the more interesting question is whether the intensity of that support has changed.

There is a difference between:

“I will vote for Trump no matter what.”

and

“I enthusiastically support everything Trump is doing.”

Those are not the same thing.

A person can remain a Republican.

A person can still vote for Trump.

A person can still dislike the Democratic Party.

And yet that same person can become disappointed with Trump's performance.

That's what makes the current political situation more complicated than the simple claim that Trump has either “lost his base” or “still has his base.”

The reality may be somewhere in between.

Trump's coalition remains powerful.

But it isn't frozen in place.

Voters change.

Circumstances change.

Presidents change.

And eventually, even the most loyal supporters start keeping score.

The real test for Trump isn't whether everyone who once supported him still supports him.

No politician can maintain that.

The real test is whether the people who once believed Trump was the answer still believe he is delivering the results they voted for.

That is a much harder question—and one that ultimately can't be answered by either Trump's supporters or his critics.

It has to be answered by the voters themselves.

The Number That’s Supposed to Tell You How Smart You Are

The Number That’s Supposed to Tell You How Smart You Are

By JM Talboo DebunkerBusters.blogspot.com

There is a number that can follow a person for years.

It can appear on a psychological report, a school record, a conversation between parents, a social-media post, or a website where somebody takes a test for fun.

IQ.

We're told that the number represents intelligence.

But what exactly does that mean?

What does a score of 75 represent?

What does 100 represent?

What does 130 represent?

And perhaps the more important question:

What doesn't it represent?

I'm not writing this article because I think IQ tests are a scam. I'm not writing it because I took an IQ test once and didn't like my score. And I'm not writing it because I think everyone secretly has a genius-level IQ.

I'm genuinely interested in the question.

Because the more I look into IQ testing, the more complicated the word intelligence becomes.

And that's where this gets interesting.


Let's Give IQ Tests Their Due

Before criticizing IQ tests, we should acknowledge something important:

They aren't measuring nothing.

Modern intelligence testing has a substantial research history behind it. Cognitive ability tests can measure things such as reasoning, working memory, processing speed, verbal abilities, and visual or spatial problem solving. Different tests emphasize different abilities.

And a general factor often called g emerges from correlations among many cognitive tasks.

That isn't imaginary.

IQ and related measures also have real predictive relationships with things such as educational performance, training outcomes, and aspects of occupational performance.

So the easy argument—

“IQ tests are meaningless.”

—isn't good enough.

If a measurement consistently captures something and that something predicts certain outcomes, there is probably something real being measured.

The question is whether we have gradually taken that legitimate observation and attached a much bigger meaning to it.

Because measuring something real isn't the same thing as measuring everything important.


Even Binet Warned Us

This is where the history of IQ testing gets fascinating.

Alfred Binet, one of the pioneers of intelligence testing, wasn't simply trying to create a number that would permanently classify human beings.

His original work was connected to identifying children who needed additional educational assistance.

And Binet himself warned against treating his scale as though it were a literal, exhaustive measurement of intelligence.

He wrote:

“This scale properly speaking does not permit the measure of the intelligence, because intellectual qualities are not superposable…”

That's a remarkable statement coming from one of the people responsible for creating the foundation of modern intelligence testing.

Binet also described intelligence as an extraordinarily broad concept involving things such as judgment, practical sense, initiative, and adaptation.

He didn't believe a child's test result should become a permanent sentence about what that child could become.

In other words, one of the pioneers of intelligence testing understood something we sometimes forget:

A test is a test.

It isn't automatically the thing itself.


Neil deGrasse Tyson's Question

Neil deGrasse Tyson has made a similar criticism in modern times.

His argument isn't necessarily that cognitive tests measure nothing. His criticism is much more interesting than that.

The basic point is that humans developed tests involving particular kinds of cognitive tasks and then attached the enormous word “intelligence” to the resulting measurement.

Once we call something an intelligence test, people naturally begin treating the score as though it tells them how intelligent a person is.

But perhaps the more scientifically precise question would be:

What abilities does this particular test measure, under these particular conditions?

That's a much less glamorous question.

But it might be a much better one.


The Math Problem

One of the interesting arguments surrounding IQ tests concerns mathematics.

Some people argue that mathematical reasoning belongs in an intelligence test because mathematics requires sophisticated reasoning.

Others argue that extensive mathematical education and experience can give somebody an advantage that has little to do with their underlying general cognitive ability.

Both arguments contain something worth considering.

And this gets personal for me—not because my own IQ score proves anything, but because my own educational history makes me think about the problem differently.

I've never particularly loved mathematics. I had a complicated educational history, including substantial time away from a conventional classroom. I also discovered that I could be very motivated to learn things I actually cared about while having a completely different attitude toward subjects that didn't interest me.

So if two people walk into the same test with completely different educational histories, interests, practice, motivation, and experiences, what exactly are we comparing?

General cognitive ability?

Knowledge?

Training?

Test-taking strategy?

Motivation?

Or some combination of all of them?

Probably some combination.

That doesn't make the test useless.

But it makes the number harder to interpret than the number itself suggests.


And There Are IQ Tests That Aren't Just Math Problems

It's also important not to build a straw man.

Modern intelligence testing isn't simply a collection of arithmetic questions.

There are nonverbal assessments, including tests based heavily on visual and abstract reasoning. Raven's matrices, for example, ask people to identify patterns and relationships in visual information.

That's important because it demonstrates that intelligence testing has evolved considerably.

The criticism can't simply be:

“IQ is just how good you are at school math.”

It isn't.

The better question is:

How broad is the collection of abilities being sampled, and how justified are we in calling the resulting construct “intelligence”?

That's a much harder question.


The Number Can Be Real Without Being the Whole Person

Consider other numbers.

A bank account contains a number.

That number tells you how much money is in the account.

Website traffic contains a number.

That number tells you how many visits occurred.

A person's height is a number.

Their weight is a number.

Their age is a number.

Their marathon time is a number.

Their IQ is a number.

Numbers are incredibly useful because they simplify reality.

But simplification can become dangerous when we forget what was simplified away.

A bank balance doesn't tell you whether somebody is happy.

Website traffic doesn't tell you whether somebody's work is meaningful.

A marathon time doesn't tell you whether somebody is a good parent.

And an IQ score doesn't tell you everything about what a person can do.

Every statistic needs a question attached to it.

What question is the statistic answering?


What Is “Success”?

This becomes especially important when somebody says that IQ predicts “success in life.”

What is success?

Money?

Fame?

Career advancement?

Academic achievement?

Longevity?

Happiness?

Relationships?

Freedom?

Purpose?

Helping other people?

Spiritual development?

A person can be extraordinarily successful according to one definition and unsuccessful according to another.

Even longevity is a statistic.

I've joked before that when looking at somebody with enormous amounts of money, one thought that sometimes crosses my mind is:

You're not going to have that money forever.

Maybe I will live longer.

Then I've technically “won” the longevity metric.

But what did I actually win?

That's the problem.

Numbers are only meaningful relative to what we're trying to measure.


What About Spiritual Enlightenment?

Here's another example that makes the problem even stranger.

How would you measure spiritual enlightenment?

Years spent meditating?

Hours of meditation?

Self-reported happiness?

Compassion?

Ability to remain calm under suffering?

Reduction in ego?

Brain activity?

Changes in neural structure?

Researchers can measure some of those things.

Brain-imaging research involving experienced meditators has found differences associated with meditation practice and altered states of consciousness.

But even if we can find a reproducible neurological signature associated with a particular experience, that doesn't automatically prove somebody's interpretation of that experience.

At the same time, calling an experience “subjective” doesn't mean that nothing objective is happening.

If a person consistently reports a particular mental state and that state is accompanied by measurable physiological or neurological changes, then something is happening in the organism.

The remaining question is:

What exactly is happening, and what does it mean?

That's a scientific question.

And it illustrates a larger principle:

Measurement and definition aren't the same thing.


Fast Thinking Isn't the Same as Deep Thinking

Another criticism of IQ tests is that they reward speed.

There is some truth to the idea that many cognitive tests place time pressure on performance.

But speed itself can be a legitimate cognitive ability.

Rapid pattern recognition can be extremely useful.

So can slow, deliberate reasoning.

Consider writing a song.

I can sometimes generate rhymes very quickly. Years of practice have made certain rhyme structures, word combinations, multisyllabic patterns, and associations almost automatic.

But generating something quickly doesn't necessarily mean I've finished thinking about it.

Sometimes the first line is perfect.

Sometimes it's garbage.

The important part comes afterward:

Does it actually say something?

Can I examine it?

Can I find the deeper connection?

Can I improve it?

Can I recognize when a clever rhyme is just a clever rhyme?

Fast generation and deep evaluation are different processes.

And that's an important distinction when thinking about intelligence.

A person can become incredibly fast at something through practice.

That doesn't necessarily mean they are “thinking faster” in some universal sense.

And somebody who takes longer to arrive at an answer isn't necessarily thinking more deeply.


Knowledge Is a Double-Edged Sword

There's another paradox I've experienced myself.

If you know a subject extremely well, you can have an enormous advantage in a debate.

You know the history.

You know the terminology.

You know the counterarguments.

You know where the other person's argument is vulnerable.

You can probably make a much stronger case than somebody encountering the subject for the first time.

But winning the argument doesn't prove you're right.

It might simply mean you know more about arguing that position.

And expertise has another strange property.

Sometimes knowing a field extremely well makes you better at solving its problems.

But sometimes someone unfamiliar with the assumptions of the field can look at the problem and ask a question everyone else stopped asking years ago.

That doesn't mean outsiders are smarter than experts.

It means expertise and fresh perspective are different advantages.

A good critic can therefore be extremely valuable.

Someone who challenges your assumptions forces you to determine whether your argument survives outside your own head.

That's true in science.

It's true in mathematics.

It's true in journalism.

And it's certainly true when investigating controversial claims.


Evidence Can Be Right While the Conclusion Is Wrong

This is where another important distinction appears.

Imagine a researcher performs an experiment and finds a genuinely unusual chemical property in a material.

The observation can be real.

The experiment can be real.

The measurements can be real.

And yet the final explanation can still be wrong.

You can correctly establish:

“Something unusual is happening.”

without having established:

“I know exactly why it is happening.”

That's an incredibly important distinction.

A conspiracy hypothesis can contain genuine scientific questions.

It can contain legitimate physical evidence.

It can contain documents that really exist.

It can contain measurements that really happened.

And still arrive at an incorrect conclusion.

The reverse is also possible.

A claim can be dismissed because somebody calls it a “conspiracy theory,” even though individual propositions within it deserve investigation.

The label doesn't settle the question.

Evidence does.

Calling something a conspiracy theory doesn't make it false.

Calling something a scientific theory doesn't make it automatically true.

The same principle applies to IQ.

Calling something an intelligence test doesn't automatically make its score the complete measurement of human intelligence.


What About Street Smarts?

Here's where I think the IQ conversation gets particularly interesting.

Most people have heard the terms:

book smart

and

street smart.

We don't have a single universally recognized number that tells us how much street smarts somebody possesses.

But does that mean the ability doesn't exist?

Consider a simple real-world situation.

Someone can have excellent academic abilities and understand complicated material from a textbook while being surprisingly poor at judging what will actually happen when dealing with a physical situation in the real world.

Someone else might have less academic achievement but years of practical experience dealing with tools, machinery, people, hazards, unpredictable environments, and changing circumstances.

Those are different kinds of knowledge and ability.

That doesn't prove one person is globally smarter than the other.

But it does demonstrate that competence is multidimensional.

And perhaps that's the more interesting question.

When someone successfully handles an unfamiliar real-world problem, what exactly are we watching?

Pattern recognition?

Experience?

Risk assessment?

Improvisation?

Practical knowledge?

Working memory?

Planning?

Judgment?

Adaptability?

Maybe all of them.


What Would Kaku's IQ Test Look Like?

Physicist Michio Kaku has raised a related idea: perhaps an interesting test of intelligence would involve putting people into unfamiliar situations and asking them to generate realistic possible scenarios.

Imagine being stranded somewhere unfamiliar.

Imagine a major system suddenly stops working.

Imagine having limited resources.

What do you do first?

What could go wrong?

What are the realistic possibilities?

What happens three steps after your first decision?

That's a very different kind of cognitive challenge.

And it raises an uncomfortable question:

If intelligence is supposed to tell us how capable someone is, why don't we routinely test people on their ability to handle unfamiliar real-world problems?

Perhaps because those abilities are much harder to standardize.

And that's exactly why standardized tests are attractive.

They give us numbers.


But Standardization Is Both the Strength and the Limitation

A standardized test has enormous advantages.

Everyone receives similar tasks.

Everyone can be compared.

Results can be analyzed statistically.

Researchers can study reliability and prediction.

That's incredibly useful.

But standardization also means deciding beforehand which abilities count and which abilities don't.

The moment we construct a test, we create a particular window through which we look at the human mind.

The window can be scientifically useful.

But it remains a window.


What Happens When We Label Children?

This is where the issue stops being merely philosophical.

Imagine a child being told—or having their parents told—that their IQ is 75.

That number can sound devastating.

Now imagine discovering that the child has dyslexia and was struggling to read the questions.

A parent asks:

“Who read the questions to him?”

Suddenly the interpretation changes.

The point isn't that the child necessarily has a high IQ.

The point is that before interpreting a score, we have to understand what happened during the measurement.

Was the child able to understand the instructions?

Were there language barriers?

Was attention impaired?

Was the person exhausted?

Was there anxiety?

Was there unfamiliarity with the testing environment?

Was the person motivated?

Were there educational disadvantages?

Were there sensory, developmental, or learning factors that affected particular tasks?

Clinical psychologists can take many of these factors into account when interpreting cognitive testing.

But a number printed on a page can easily escape its original context.

And once it does, it can become a label.


The Danger of Turning a Snapshot Into an Identity

Suppose somebody measures your temperature once.

You get 101 degrees.

That tells you something useful.

But it doesn't mean:

“You are a 101-degree person.”

An IQ score is obviously different from temperature, but the analogy demonstrates the danger of confusing a measurement with an identity.

A score describes performance on a particular measurement.

It doesn't automatically tell us:

  • how curious somebody is
  • how creative they are
  • how courageous they are
  • how compassionate they are
  • how persistent they are
  • how practical they are
  • how adaptable they are
  • how much they know
  • how much they are willing to learn
  • how wisely they use what they know
  • or what they might become

Some of those things may be related to cognitive ability.

Some may interact with it.

Some may be largely independent.

But they aren't all contained in a single number.


Education Changes the Question

There's another fascinating piece of evidence here.

Research has found that additional education is associated with improvements in performance on intelligence tests, with evidence suggesting that education itself can have causal effects on measured cognitive ability.

That doesn't mean one extra year of school magically adds a fixed number of IQ points to every person.

It means something much more interesting may be happening:

The environment can change cognitive performance.

Nutrition matters.

Development matters.

Education matters.

Experience matters.

Practice matters.

Sleep matters.

Motivation matters.

Genes matter.

And the brain itself changes with experience.

So if all of these factors interact with cognitive performance, what exactly does an IQ score represent?

Perhaps it represents something like:

How this person performed on this standardized sample of cognitive tasks at this point in their development, under these conditions.

That's a much more modest statement than:

This number tells us how intelligent this person is.

And maybe the modest statement is closer to the scientific truth.


What About Genetics?

Genetics clearly matters to cognitive ability.

But “heritable” doesn't mean “unchangeable.”

Human intelligence is influenced by enormous numbers of genetic factors, each generally contributing very small effects, interacting with environmental circumstances.

That's true of many human traits.

A genetic contribution doesn't mean that environment is irrelevant.

And environmental influence doesn't mean genetics is irrelevant.

The real picture is much more complicated:

genes → development → nutrition → education → experience → practice → environment → brain changes → performance

And eventually:

performance → test score.

Look at that chain.

How many things happened before the number appeared on the page?


Maybe the Real Question Is What Happens After the Test

Suppose two people receive IQ scores of 115 and 135.

What can we legitimately conclude?

We can say the testing data indicate a difference in performance on the measured cognitive abilities.

Depending on the test and circumstances, that difference may have meaningful predictive value.

But can we conclude that the person with 135 will make better decisions?

Will they be happier?

Will they be wealthier?

Will they be more creative?

Will they be kinder?

Will they be better at surviving a crisis?

Will they be better at understanding people?

Will they be wiser?

Will they be more spiritually developed?

Will they be more successful?

Not necessarily.

Some of those outcomes may correlate with cognitive ability.

Some may not.

And that's the entire point.

Correlation is not identity.


Here's an Experiment I'd Like to See

There's another question that interests me.

What happens when you dramatically change the incentive structure around education?

Imagine a voluntary research study.

First, establish baseline cognitive measurements.

Then randomly assign students to different incentive structures.

One group receives the normal educational incentives.

Another group receives substantial, guaranteed financial rewards for academic performance.

The exact amounts aren't the point here.

The point is the manipulation.

Would the relationship between baseline cognitive ability and academic achievement change?

Would students who previously performed below their measured ability suddenly perform dramatically better?

Would high-performing students improve too?

Would everybody improve?

Would grades improve without corresponding improvements on novel cognitive tasks?

That last question would be especially important.

Because there is a huge difference between:

getting better at school

and

becoming better at learning

and

becoming better at solving unfamiliar problems.

If money dramatically improves grades but not performance on novel problems, perhaps we learned something about motivation and academic performance rather than intelligence itself.

That's exactly the kind of experiment worth doing.

Not because we already know the answer.

Because we don't.


So, Are IQ Tests Good or Bad?

Maybe that's the wrong question.

A hammer is good at driving nails.

It is terrible at measuring the temperature of a room.

That doesn't make the hammer a scam.

It means we have to understand what the instrument is designed to do.

IQ tests may be excellent tools for measuring certain cognitive abilities.

They may provide useful information about learning and performance.

They may have meaningful predictive power.

They may help clinicians identify particular cognitive patterns.

All of that can be true.

And it can simultaneously be true that:

an IQ score is not a complete measurement of human intelligence.

Those statements aren't contradictory.


The Bigger Lesson

This is ultimately why I find the IQ debate so interesting.

It's not really about whether a number is “real.”

It's about what we do with the number.

A measurement can be scientifically useful and socially misused.

A statistic can be accurate and still be interpreted incorrectly.

A test can measure something important without measuring everything important.

A person can have enormous knowledge and still be wrong.

A person can lack formal education and still possess extraordinary practical ability.

A person can win a debate without having the truth.

A critic can expose weaknesses in an argument without having the correct alternative explanation.

A scientific theory can be wrong.

A conspiracy theory can be wrong.

A conspiracy theory can also contain a true observation.

And an intelligence test can measure real cognitive ability without being the complete definition of intelligence.

Maybe the question we should have been asking all along isn't:

“How intelligent are you?”

Maybe it is:

“What does this particular measurement tell us about you—and what doesn't it tell us?”

Because there is a profound difference between measuring a person...

and reducing a person to a measurement.

And especially when we're talking about children, that difference matters.

The number should be information.

It should never become a prophecy.

Tuesday, September 29, 2026

The UFO Files Are Pouring Out: Six Government Drops, Hundreds of Records, and Some Serious Egg on the Debunkers' Faces

The UFO Files Are Pouring Out: Six Government Drops, Hundreds of Records, and Some Serious Egg on the Debunkers' Faces

By JM Talboo UnDebunkingUFOs.blogspot.com

Something unusual has been happening in the U.S. government's UFO/UAP record system this year: the files have started coming out.

Since May, the Department of War has been publishing declassified and historical Unidentified Anomalous Phenomena records through a program called PURSUE — the Presidential Unsealing and Reporting System for UAP Encounters. And this isn't one big document dump. It has been a rolling series of releases.

One small correction is worth making at the outset: despite some discussion online about a "seventh batch," the government's numbered PURSUE archive currently shows six official releases, beginning May 8 and continuing through September 18, 2026. The current archive indexes roughly 450 records, with the exact count depending on how duplicate/media records are counted. The government's own PURSUE site confirms the six numbered releases and says additional files are being prepared for rolling publication.

And some of the material is genuinely interesting.

Release One: May 8

The first release was the monster that started the current wave.

It contained well over a hundred records, including documents, military and government imagery, video and audio material from agencies including the Department of War, FBI, NASA and State Department.

The significance wasn't necessarily that it contained one definitive "smoking gun."

It was the sheer breadth of the material.

Government agencies had accumulated UFO reports for decades, and suddenly researchers had a much larger body of primary-source material to examine.

It also established something that would become a recurring theme in the later releases:

The government is willing to publish the existence of a case without necessarily being able to explain the object in the footage.

That distinction is important.

"Unresolved" does not mean "extraterrestrial."

But it also means the government hasn't established an ordinary explanation for that particular case.

Release Two: May 22

Two weeks later came the most video-heavy release of the series.

The second batch contained dozens of records, overwhelmingly video and audio material. The government's archive lists the May 22 release separately and provides the underlying files for researchers to examine.

This batch generated considerable attention because people could actually watch the sensor recordings rather than simply read decades-old UFO reports.

But there was an important catch: not every piece of footage should automatically be treated as independently authenticated proof of extraordinary technology.

That caveat matters.

The government possessing a video is not necessarily the same thing as the government confirming every interpretation that somebody has attached to that video.

In other words:

The files are evidence. The conclusions still have to be investigated.

Release Three: June 12

The June release shifted some of the emphasis back toward historical records.

It included dozens of documents along with video, photographic and audio material from agencies including the CIA, Department of War, FBI and NASA.

Historical material is particularly important because it allows researchers to go back to the original paperwork instead of relying on somebody's 30-, 40- or 70-year-old summary of what supposedly happened.

That is a big deal for UFO research.

A modern skeptic can say, "That's not what happened."

A modern believer can say, "The government covered it up."

But when the original government paperwork is sitting there in public, everybody has to deal with the actual record.

And that's exactly where this subject should have been heading all along.

Release Four: July 10

July brought another substantial collection of documents, videos, images and audio.

The government archive identifies records from agencies including the CIA, Department of Energy, Department of War, FBI and NASA.

Some of the newly published military videos are particularly useful for understanding why UAP analysis is so difficult.

Objects can appear to jump, flicker, disappear or change apparent size when an infrared sensor changes modes, adjusts contrast or changes magnification.

That doesn't make the footage worthless.

Quite the opposite.

It means researchers need to understand what the sensor was actually doing before deciding what the object was doing.

That's one of the most interesting aspects of the disclosure effort: we're getting to see not only alleged UFOs, but also the limitations of the instruments used to observe them.

Release Five: August 7

The fifth release contained another batch of records, including documents and numerous videos and images. The government's archive dates it to August 7.

This one received attention for historical reports involving triangular objects, among other unusual observations.

The larger significance, however, is that the government record increasingly contains reports from military personnel, intelligence personnel, FBI personnel and other officials.

That complicates the old stereotype that UFOs are simply stories originating with people who don't know what they saw.

Of course, government personnel can be mistaken.

Military personnel can misidentify aircraft.

Police officers can misinterpret lights.

Sensors can malfunction.

None of those possibilities disappear just because a government employee made the observation.

But the reverse is also true:

A government employee making an observation doesn't become meaningless simply because somebody can imagine a conventional explanation.

The explanation has to fit the evidence.

Release Six: September 18

Then came the latest—and arguably most historically fascinating—batch.

The sixth release contains 75 records: 59 documents, 15 videos and one audio recording, covering material from 1952 through 2025.

And this batch contains several things UFO researchers have been waiting decades to see.

The Tremonton Film

The government released the Project Blue Book file concerning the famous Tremonton, Utah, UFO film from July 2, 1952, along with associated photographs and personnel records concerning Navy Chief Warrant Officer Delbert Newhouse, who filmed the objects.

The release also contains the historical Air Force flying-disc material surrounding the case.

This is significant because we're no longer arguing about a modern internet copy of an old UFO story.

We're looking at the government's own historical case file.

Whatever conclusion somebody reaches about the film, researchers now have more of the original record with which to make that argument.

Captain Ruppelt

The sixth release also contains a historical recording/transcript involving Captain Edward J. Ruppelt, the former head of Project Blue Book.

Again, the importance isn't that one historical recording magically proves an extraterrestrial hypothesis.

It's that researchers can examine what government investigators were actually saying and doing during the period when the UFO controversy was developing in real time.

That's a hell of a lot better than reconstructing the past from secondhand stories.

The AAWSAP Documents

And then there's the really bizarre part.

The sixth release contains a substantial collection of documents relating to the Advanced Aerospace Weapon System Applications Program, or AAWSAP, a Defense Intelligence Agency program associated with research into advanced aerospace concepts.

The released documents include studies involving subjects such as metamaterials, advanced propulsion, gravity research, antigravity, warp-drive concepts, traversable wormholes, negative energy, quantum-vacuum concepts and other exotic areas of physics.

Let's be extremely clear:

A government-funded study about warp drives is not proof that the government possessed a warp drive.

A document studying wormholes is not proof that somebody built a wormhole.

But the documents establish something that is nevertheless fascinating:

Government-funded intelligence research really did examine subjects that sound like science fiction.

That's not a UFO believer's rumor.

It's in the released paperwork.

And Now We Get To The Debunkers

This is where the current releases become especially interesting for a blog called Undebunking UFOs.

For decades, professional skeptics and debunkers have played an important role in UFO discussions.

One of the most famous was Philip J. Klass, the aerospace journalist and electrical engineer who became one of the best-known skeptical investigators of UFO reports. His career was built in part around finding conventional explanations for cases that UFO researchers considered mysterious.

Today, Mick West occupies a somewhat similar position in the public conversation, although using modern digital analysis, geometry, camera modeling and examination of military UAP videos rather than Klass's mid-20th-century approach.

And here's where the current disclosure creates some genuine egg-on-the-face moments for the professional debunking tradition.

Not because every UFO case has suddenly been proven extraterrestrial.

It hasn't.

And not because Mick West, Philip Klass or any other skeptic was wrong about every individual case.

They weren't.

The point is something more fundamental.

For years, skeptics could attack UFO cases by arguing that the stories were exaggerated, poorly documented, misunderstood, misrepresented or based on material that UFO researchers themselves had obtained and interpreted.

Now the government itself is putting large quantities of the underlying material into public view.

The government is saying, in effect: Here are the records. Here are the videos. Here are the historical case files. Here are the reports. Examine them yourself.

That changes the playing field.

A skeptic can still demonstrate that a particular object was a balloon.

They can demonstrate that an apparent acceleration was caused by camera movement.

They can demonstrate that an apparent shape was produced by optics.

They can identify an aircraft, bird, planet, flare, drone or sensor artifact.

And when they do, that's useful.

But the old argument that UFO researchers are simply making mountains out of nonexistent government records becomes much harder to sustain when the government is literally publishing the records.

That's the important distinction.

Debunking an individual UFO case is not the same thing as debunking the existence of the UFO phenomenon as an unresolved investigative subject.

And that's something UFO researchers and skeptics alike should keep straight.

If Mick West successfully explains one video, that explanation deserves to be considered.

If another video doesn't fit the explanation, that one deserves to remain under investigation.

Likewise, if Philip Klass successfully identified conventional explanations for cases during his lifetime, those explanations remain useful where the evidence supports them.

But a successful explanation for Case A doesn't automatically explain Cases B through Z.

That's where some forms of "debunking" can become overly broad.

The proper scientific response to an unexplained observation isn't:

"We explained some UFOs, therefore UFOs aren't real."

It's:

"We explained this one. Now let's look at the next one."

So What Does All This Actually Mean?

That depends on what question you're asking.

If the question is:

"Has the government released proof that extraterrestrial spacecraft are visiting Earth?"

No. These releases do not establish that.

If the question is:

"Has the government released a large amount of previously unavailable UFO/UAP material, including military sensor recordings, intelligence reports, FBI records, historical Project Blue Book material and documentation concerning government-funded advanced aerospace research?"

Absolutely.

And that's the part that shouldn't get lost in the sensationalism.

The six PURSUE releases have expanded the publicly available government record from 1940s and 1950s-era investigations to military encounters and law-enforcement reports from the modern era.

Some cases may eventually receive ordinary explanations.

Some footage clearly demonstrates the limitations of cameras and infrared sensors.

Some reports are too poorly documented to draw strong conclusions.

And some remain genuinely unresolved.

That last category is where the scientific and historical questions begin—not where they end.

The reaction has predictably been mixed.

UFO researchers have focused on the cases that appear most unusual.

Skeptics have emphasized sensor limitations, conventional explanations and the danger of interpreting ambiguous imagery as extraordinary technology.

Both approaches have a legitimate place.

But there is another approach that has been badly needed for a very long time:

Look at the evidence first.

Not "believe."

Not "debunk."

Investigate.

That's what makes this new wave of releases potentially more important than any single spectacular video.

For decades, arguments about UFOs were often based on fragments: a leaked document here, an old witness account there, a famous piece of footage and somebody claiming that the government knew more than it admitted.

Now researchers have hundreds of government records to compare.

And that means the conversation can finally move beyond:

"Do you believe in UFOs?"

The better question is:

What does the evidence actually show?

Because now, for the first time in a long time, there's a hell of a lot more evidence to examine.

And that's exactly what Undebunking UFOs intends to do.