something that has always made me curious is all those little bits of dry erase marker that are left behind after you erase it. at first it seems like you can completely erase a whiteboard, but upon closer inspection, you can see little specks of dry erase particles. what are they? why do they exist? where do they go?! i must know!
despite having studied the whiteboard closely and observing it for countless hours (4 minutes), i have concluded that it is very intelligent. i know this because it is very patient, remaining completely still until i was no longer around. i think that it all gathers together in some hidden location, banding together to form DEPCA (dry erase particle conglomerate army). i'm not entirely sure what their goal in this world is. assuming their goal is on this earth and not some insane space mission to colonize distant dry erase particle friendly planets.
my best guess is the obvious, that they are gathering their strength to strike against that which threatens them the most: chalk. based on that theory, i'm gonna assume that england will be its first target, with its famous cliffs at dover. if DEPCA can control that, then they will completely cut the supply lines to the CCF (chalk coalition forces), severely crippling them.
however, due to the large amount of chalk that has already infiltrated the entire planet, the war would be far from over. DEPCA would have to play a careful, strategic game of attrition from then on, keeping a careful eye on england and not letting it be recaptured.
or maybe gravity just pushes all the dry erase particles to the ground where they are unceremoniously swept into the trash can and never heard from or seen again...
unless that is exactly what we are supposed to believe!
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Thursday, June 25, 2009
the duality of grey matter
after much contemplation, i have decided that two consciousnesses exist within the same brain. this seems so obviously apparent to me simply because of my dreams, or dreams in general. yes, dreams are so crazy, and the majority of the time we can't even fathom what the deuce they mean, if anything. but the real proof is in the telling of the nonsensical story during our nocturnal unconsciousness. this is what most amazes me, that during my dreams, i can, and often am, surprised in some way. whether i am shocked at some scene before me, startled by some sudden event that i was unable to predict, or just so at a loss for what is going on during my dream itself.
if you think about it, it is pretty much impossible to surprise yourself when you're awake. try it. try to test your reflexes by dropping a pencil. hold it by the eraser end with the point pointing towards the floor. then with your other hand, position your index finger and thumb near the pencil to pinch it when it plummets. try as you may, you always know when you're going to release and it rarely travels far at all before you grab it. try it with someone else and i guarantee it will be much more difficult. so when such a simple task is so impossible insofar as your own brain being able to trick itself, how is it able to send itself through such surrealistic rollercoasters while dreaming? dreams can often have some pretty twisted outcomes and unexpected events, none of which you can predict at any time during the dream. or at least your dream-self can't figure it out.
the only logical answer to me is the existence of a second consciousness. it comes to life at night and preys upon the extremely relaxed and vulnerable state of the primary consciousness. similar to how one cat will wait for another cat to be comfortably asleep before it pounces full-force. or maybe also similar to how a vulture waits until its prey is too weak to resist. it presents all these twisted scenarios and ridiculous possibilities that your primary consciousness tries desperately to keep pace with within the realistic bounds that it is used to. but it is trying to sleep and recuperate at the same time, and is therefore not so sharp. that possibly explains why you can't run when you need to most, or why you make absolutely retarded choices in dreams. ok, well, i guess i can't speak for everyone, but that's how it happens in my dreams.
i think there are times when one consciousness barges in on the other without knocking. i don't know if everyone experiences this complete oddity, but sometimes in my dream, i will remind myself that i'm in a dream and it doesn't matter. or even another character in my dream will tell me the truth of the situation and my dream-self is like, 'oh...interesting.'
what exactly is the subconscious consciousness' day job? he does a very good job of laying low, that's for sure. but i totally picture him scampering about the shadows, picking up scraps, like a homeless man. he grabs one discarded thought, image, name, conversation, holds it up to the light, squints and examines it up close, shakes it a little bit close to his ear to see if there's possibly something to use in the night's romp through WTFville. satisfied that it might come in handy, he tucks it into his cart and moves along, following the primary consciousness at a respectable distance, making sure to vigilantly take note of the things dropped along the way. he totally is a homeless person. he would be nowhere without the primary consciousness to leech off of, but the primary consciousness can never be rid of him. not that i would want that to happen anyway.
actually maybe it's more like that cousin that never made anything of his life, but still has the best stories at family get-togethers.
if you think about it, it is pretty much impossible to surprise yourself when you're awake. try it. try to test your reflexes by dropping a pencil. hold it by the eraser end with the point pointing towards the floor. then with your other hand, position your index finger and thumb near the pencil to pinch it when it plummets. try as you may, you always know when you're going to release and it rarely travels far at all before you grab it. try it with someone else and i guarantee it will be much more difficult. so when such a simple task is so impossible insofar as your own brain being able to trick itself, how is it able to send itself through such surrealistic rollercoasters while dreaming? dreams can often have some pretty twisted outcomes and unexpected events, none of which you can predict at any time during the dream. or at least your dream-self can't figure it out.
the only logical answer to me is the existence of a second consciousness. it comes to life at night and preys upon the extremely relaxed and vulnerable state of the primary consciousness. similar to how one cat will wait for another cat to be comfortably asleep before it pounces full-force. or maybe also similar to how a vulture waits until its prey is too weak to resist. it presents all these twisted scenarios and ridiculous possibilities that your primary consciousness tries desperately to keep pace with within the realistic bounds that it is used to. but it is trying to sleep and recuperate at the same time, and is therefore not so sharp. that possibly explains why you can't run when you need to most, or why you make absolutely retarded choices in dreams. ok, well, i guess i can't speak for everyone, but that's how it happens in my dreams.
i think there are times when one consciousness barges in on the other without knocking. i don't know if everyone experiences this complete oddity, but sometimes in my dream, i will remind myself that i'm in a dream and it doesn't matter. or even another character in my dream will tell me the truth of the situation and my dream-self is like, 'oh...interesting.'
what exactly is the subconscious consciousness' day job? he does a very good job of laying low, that's for sure. but i totally picture him scampering about the shadows, picking up scraps, like a homeless man. he grabs one discarded thought, image, name, conversation, holds it up to the light, squints and examines it up close, shakes it a little bit close to his ear to see if there's possibly something to use in the night's romp through WTFville. satisfied that it might come in handy, he tucks it into his cart and moves along, following the primary consciousness at a respectable distance, making sure to vigilantly take note of the things dropped along the way. he totally is a homeless person. he would be nowhere without the primary consciousness to leech off of, but the primary consciousness can never be rid of him. not that i would want that to happen anyway.
actually maybe it's more like that cousin that never made anything of his life, but still has the best stories at family get-togethers.
Friday, June 12, 2009
rodents running rampant = total eclipse of the heart
i killed another mouse late last night.
i didn't want to. really, i didn't. i even tried a few times to capture it safe and soundly so i could put it in a box then take it far away and let it go to get into someone else's house. tragically this mouse's innate ability to dodge, dip, duck, dive and dodge ultimately led to it's own untimely demise. how greek.
see, there's been a bit of a mouse problem in the house lately. this presents a rather unique dilemma and conflict inside my mind. one the one hand, i don't want mice scampering about, chewing up my stuff, defecating and urinating all over my stuff, smelling the place up worse than i do, and eventually luring in the natural predators that follow mice, namely snakes. i truly have no desire to dodge a rattlesnake on my way sleepily to the bathroom in the middle of the night. so it would appear to be pretty cut and dry as to what needs to be done: relentless eradication of every last one. however, on the other hand, i am an animal lover, to a fault. i have a special weakness for small, cute, furry little animals, probably because i had pet rodents most of my childhood and really loved them and played with them a lot. i have many cherished memories of me awesome gerbils. i had my pirate gerbil that would ride around on my shoulders, my extreme pilot gerbil that could deftly navigate our little house in one of those little plastic orbs at full-speed, etc. so when i see the cute fuzzy little bodies of mice scurrying around my room, my first thought is actually happiness. i want to play with them! i want to be their friend and have them talk to me.
alas, simple logic must win out, and i must rid the room and house of these vermin disguised as happiness. the other unfortunate thing is that the mouse traps which have been provided are probably the most inhumane way of catching a mouse possible. it is simply a index card size sticky pad, ultra sticky. one foot on it, and they're pretty much done. however, its not like a venus mouse trap, it doesn't eat them after it has captured them, it merely detains them until they starve to death, often in a rather unenjoyable position that they have managed to get themselves into due to a panic-driven struggle to escape. it is truly wicked in the sickest sense. i feel so bad when i see them, stuck in their own personal tar baby, pleading with their frenzied, horror filled eyes. its even worse when they squeak for their lives, its so pathetic and pitiful, the swan song of a mouse on death row.
because of my nature of staying up very late, i am usually awake when they rise and scamper joyfully about. ironically, this makes me the best suited to catch them, since i see where they're playing around, put a trap there, and, like clockwork, i will have captured a mouse within a minute or two.
i feel filthy, like a murderer must feel immediately afterwords. well, not a psychopathic, sadistic murderer, but an actual humane murderer who accidentally killed someone in a fit of rage or by not paying attention to the road. i had caught a few and had just thrown them away, but i could still hear them squeak. some strange, twisted version of the beating heart from poe's poem. the last one i put out of his misery before throwing him unceremoniously into the trash. i know it's just a mouse, but i still didn't like the knowledge that a few minutes before, the little bundle of lifeless fluff was once full of life and probably jovial at the prospect of a new day exploring my closet.
i guess i just say this as some weird some of therapy. until some imbalanced lunatic from peta reads this and tells me i should indeed let the animals consume my house. then this will switch from therapy to perturbed amusement tinged with mild disgust.
in the end, as much of a monster as i am, i don't think i ever would have been able to shoot old yeller.
i didn't want to. really, i didn't. i even tried a few times to capture it safe and soundly so i could put it in a box then take it far away and let it go to get into someone else's house. tragically this mouse's innate ability to dodge, dip, duck, dive and dodge ultimately led to it's own untimely demise. how greek.
see, there's been a bit of a mouse problem in the house lately. this presents a rather unique dilemma and conflict inside my mind. one the one hand, i don't want mice scampering about, chewing up my stuff, defecating and urinating all over my stuff, smelling the place up worse than i do, and eventually luring in the natural predators that follow mice, namely snakes. i truly have no desire to dodge a rattlesnake on my way sleepily to the bathroom in the middle of the night. so it would appear to be pretty cut and dry as to what needs to be done: relentless eradication of every last one. however, on the other hand, i am an animal lover, to a fault. i have a special weakness for small, cute, furry little animals, probably because i had pet rodents most of my childhood and really loved them and played with them a lot. i have many cherished memories of me awesome gerbils. i had my pirate gerbil that would ride around on my shoulders, my extreme pilot gerbil that could deftly navigate our little house in one of those little plastic orbs at full-speed, etc. so when i see the cute fuzzy little bodies of mice scurrying around my room, my first thought is actually happiness. i want to play with them! i want to be their friend and have them talk to me.
alas, simple logic must win out, and i must rid the room and house of these vermin disguised as happiness. the other unfortunate thing is that the mouse traps which have been provided are probably the most inhumane way of catching a mouse possible. it is simply a index card size sticky pad, ultra sticky. one foot on it, and they're pretty much done. however, its not like a venus mouse trap, it doesn't eat them after it has captured them, it merely detains them until they starve to death, often in a rather unenjoyable position that they have managed to get themselves into due to a panic-driven struggle to escape. it is truly wicked in the sickest sense. i feel so bad when i see them, stuck in their own personal tar baby, pleading with their frenzied, horror filled eyes. its even worse when they squeak for their lives, its so pathetic and pitiful, the swan song of a mouse on death row.
because of my nature of staying up very late, i am usually awake when they rise and scamper joyfully about. ironically, this makes me the best suited to catch them, since i see where they're playing around, put a trap there, and, like clockwork, i will have captured a mouse within a minute or two.
i feel filthy, like a murderer must feel immediately afterwords. well, not a psychopathic, sadistic murderer, but an actual humane murderer who accidentally killed someone in a fit of rage or by not paying attention to the road. i had caught a few and had just thrown them away, but i could still hear them squeak. some strange, twisted version of the beating heart from poe's poem. the last one i put out of his misery before throwing him unceremoniously into the trash. i know it's just a mouse, but i still didn't like the knowledge that a few minutes before, the little bundle of lifeless fluff was once full of life and probably jovial at the prospect of a new day exploring my closet.
i guess i just say this as some weird some of therapy. until some imbalanced lunatic from peta reads this and tells me i should indeed let the animals consume my house. then this will switch from therapy to perturbed amusement tinged with mild disgust.
in the end, as much of a monster as i am, i don't think i ever would have been able to shoot old yeller.
Monday, June 1, 2009
as opposed to the wetter gnome . . .
what the deuce is up with the sock gnome in my drier?! you know of whom i speak, for i am sure you have had your own run in with him. he is the one that steals a single, solitary sock from the wash. unashamedly and remorselessly. and consistently. that devious little minion, what would he possibly want with all those socks of mine that he has stolen?!
a possible hypothesis is that the gnome (who shall be named, and henceforth referred to as, jared) is teasing me. obviously he wants me to know he is toying with my notion of control and awareness as pertains to my own laundry, and impishly imply that he is ultimately the one true sovereign authority in the realm of the laundry room. this notion seems so clear to me because, of all the items in a typical wash, he takes the one item that will be most noticeably missing, the only item that is paired with another, and is so blatantly at a loss without it's counterpart. jared could so easily take an entire shirt or some underwear, and i would forever wonder where i misplaced said article, if i even noticed its absence. yet he persists in taunting me with the conspicuous loss of one sock.
the reason he only deprives me of such a trivial item as a sock is because he can! he can easily get away with stealing socks, because of the very trivial nature of a sock. if you think about it, it's a brilliant item to steal for the sake of teasing. if it were anything more serious, it would undoubtedly attract actual attention, which would completely blow jared's cover. no gnome would actually want to be publicly discovered, accused and incarcerated, which is exactly what would happen if he started stealing cats, clarinets, cars, couches, or even designer jeans. but no, jared is very smart, and has successfully stayed under the radar for many many years by adhering to this simple ploy.
as far as the question of where does this massive stockpile of missing socks go, it is clear to me that jared eats them. he has to have something other than lints trap scraps and drier sheet cuisine to eat, especially since i don't ever run my leftover cheesy tuna casserole through the drier.
if i was smart, i'd soak an entire load of socks in anti-freeze and cyanide and toss that in the drier. but i don't know if it's worth the risk of possibly ruining all those socks.
a possible hypothesis is that the gnome (who shall be named, and henceforth referred to as, jared) is teasing me. obviously he wants me to know he is toying with my notion of control and awareness as pertains to my own laundry, and impishly imply that he is ultimately the one true sovereign authority in the realm of the laundry room. this notion seems so clear to me because, of all the items in a typical wash, he takes the one item that will be most noticeably missing, the only item that is paired with another, and is so blatantly at a loss without it's counterpart. jared could so easily take an entire shirt or some underwear, and i would forever wonder where i misplaced said article, if i even noticed its absence. yet he persists in taunting me with the conspicuous loss of one sock.
the reason he only deprives me of such a trivial item as a sock is because he can! he can easily get away with stealing socks, because of the very trivial nature of a sock. if you think about it, it's a brilliant item to steal for the sake of teasing. if it were anything more serious, it would undoubtedly attract actual attention, which would completely blow jared's cover. no gnome would actually want to be publicly discovered, accused and incarcerated, which is exactly what would happen if he started stealing cats, clarinets, cars, couches, or even designer jeans. but no, jared is very smart, and has successfully stayed under the radar for many many years by adhering to this simple ploy.
as far as the question of where does this massive stockpile of missing socks go, it is clear to me that jared eats them. he has to have something other than lints trap scraps and drier sheet cuisine to eat, especially since i don't ever run my leftover cheesy tuna casserole through the drier.
if i was smart, i'd soak an entire load of socks in anti-freeze and cyanide and toss that in the drier. but i don't know if it's worth the risk of possibly ruining all those socks.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
entirely [un]realistic scenario, pt. 1
if zombies threatened the existence of all mankind, what would vampires do about it? on the one hand, vampires basically view humans as cattle, food, and have very little respect for their existence in the first place as anything apart from serving the physiological needs of the vampire kind. on the other hand, if all humans were extinct and replaced with zombies, which do not exactly offer a tasty midnight treat to a vampire, and would probably be a bit of a nuisance and possibly even a threat, would vampires feel the need to assist humans in their struggle for survival?
i think they would. regardless of the low opinion that vampires generally hold of humans, it would probably be in the best interest of vampires worldwide to ensure the survival of humans and, more importantly, the lack of existence of zombies. for starters, obviously humans would be much easier to manipulate and keep in check as they drone on in their own generally harmless 'lives'. zombies tirelessly seek to eat anything that lives and breathes and pumps blood, and would therefore create a constant and active inconvenience, if not a serious threat. and once one zombie found a vampire house, every zombie in the area would be drawn towards it. vampires would no longer be able to live in luxurious, fashionable mansions, but would be forced into impenetrable, unreachable fortresses in remote locations. its like the difference between herding cattle and herding eternally starving piranhas with an open wound.
the other reason is functionality. humans meet the needs of vampires much more completely than zombies, due in no small part to the fact that zombies are pretty much worthless to vampires. one aspect of this is food. of course vampires can create synthetic blood plasma and probably live on that and previously extracted blood for quite awhile, but i'm guessing that is the vampire equivalent to eating freeze-dried food in a bunker. vampires like to live in style, and i'm willing to bet the thought of lowering themselves to that for the rest of eternity sends an icy chill up their already frigid spines. since zombies don't actually have blood pumping through their veins, they are completely worthless in the category of food stuffs. another function that humans serve is to be used to create more vampires, essentially as potential replacements to replenish their ranks for whatever reason they might need more vampires. once again, since zombies don't use blood to sustain their parody of life, they would be unable to turn. finally, humans are often used as servants, slaves, and helpers to aid the lives of vampires. it helps to have retainers that can function in sunlight as well as do the menial work that most vampires would view as far below their regal status. even if vampires somehow managed to develop the technology to subdue zombies and bend them to the will of another, their lack of intelligence and basic motor skills would still make them far inferior to a human slave, even the most foolish.
despite the inferior stature of humans to vampires, i honestly think that vampires would be wise to assist humankind in the event of a zombie invasion/outbreak. i for one would love to watch a vampire army wage war against a mindless yet tireless horde of zombies, the ultimate matching of technique, technology, intelligence and precision versus brute force, superior numbers, and a fearless foe that is nearly impossible to stop. as it was so eloquently put in the dark knight, an unstoppable force colliding with an immovable object.
however i am open to logical debate and reasoning. feel free to disagree, but only with good reason!
i think they would. regardless of the low opinion that vampires generally hold of humans, it would probably be in the best interest of vampires worldwide to ensure the survival of humans and, more importantly, the lack of existence of zombies. for starters, obviously humans would be much easier to manipulate and keep in check as they drone on in their own generally harmless 'lives'. zombies tirelessly seek to eat anything that lives and breathes and pumps blood, and would therefore create a constant and active inconvenience, if not a serious threat. and once one zombie found a vampire house, every zombie in the area would be drawn towards it. vampires would no longer be able to live in luxurious, fashionable mansions, but would be forced into impenetrable, unreachable fortresses in remote locations. its like the difference between herding cattle and herding eternally starving piranhas with an open wound.
the other reason is functionality. humans meet the needs of vampires much more completely than zombies, due in no small part to the fact that zombies are pretty much worthless to vampires. one aspect of this is food. of course vampires can create synthetic blood plasma and probably live on that and previously extracted blood for quite awhile, but i'm guessing that is the vampire equivalent to eating freeze-dried food in a bunker. vampires like to live in style, and i'm willing to bet the thought of lowering themselves to that for the rest of eternity sends an icy chill up their already frigid spines. since zombies don't actually have blood pumping through their veins, they are completely worthless in the category of food stuffs. another function that humans serve is to be used to create more vampires, essentially as potential replacements to replenish their ranks for whatever reason they might need more vampires. once again, since zombies don't use blood to sustain their parody of life, they would be unable to turn. finally, humans are often used as servants, slaves, and helpers to aid the lives of vampires. it helps to have retainers that can function in sunlight as well as do the menial work that most vampires would view as far below their regal status. even if vampires somehow managed to develop the technology to subdue zombies and bend them to the will of another, their lack of intelligence and basic motor skills would still make them far inferior to a human slave, even the most foolish.
despite the inferior stature of humans to vampires, i honestly think that vampires would be wise to assist humankind in the event of a zombie invasion/outbreak. i for one would love to watch a vampire army wage war against a mindless yet tireless horde of zombies, the ultimate matching of technique, technology, intelligence and precision versus brute force, superior numbers, and a fearless foe that is nearly impossible to stop. as it was so eloquently put in the dark knight, an unstoppable force colliding with an immovable object.
however i am open to logical debate and reasoning. feel free to disagree, but only with good reason!
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
culinary creation of complex composition
i love pizza. everyone loves pizza. it is a truly amazing food! it is good hot, or cold, plain, or loaded with toppings, morning or night, midnight or lunchtime, at parties or at home, it is the most versatile food i can think of. you can make it a completely balanced meal even. even when it's not amazing, it's still good.
how can something be so incredibly good? it can't possibly be a simply man-made creation or an ancient discovery native to this planet because it's taste is phenomenal. and yet, it also can't be a gift from space or from greek mythology because we continue to curiously recreate it with varying levels of success. i think it must be one of the unofficial ancient wonders of the world, kind of like a pyramid or something. it can't be officially recognized because there was never any proof leftover, similar to how's there's never much proof leftover after a modern day video game party. except we have the tell-tale cardboard boxes. i'm willing to bet there's probably some cave drawings of pizza somewhere, but we don't recognize it as pizza because they weren't in perfect circles back then. the real question is which ancient civilization blessed us with this extraordinary gift?! perhaps it was such an almighty creation that it is the true catalyst for the demise of atlantis. the raw, unharnessed birthing of the power of pizza was to overwhelming and terrific for one culture to possess in its inception, especially an ancient culture. the civilization was crushed beneath the weight of the awesomeness that it had created/discovered. fortunately for all of us, it did not fall victim to its own fresh, unbridled power, and was saved to pass on and enlighten the rest of the world, from east to west, through all generations. it may outlive us all, and no one could expect anything different.
i wonder if it can cure cancer. . .
how can something be so incredibly good? it can't possibly be a simply man-made creation or an ancient discovery native to this planet because it's taste is phenomenal. and yet, it also can't be a gift from space or from greek mythology because we continue to curiously recreate it with varying levels of success. i think it must be one of the unofficial ancient wonders of the world, kind of like a pyramid or something. it can't be officially recognized because there was never any proof leftover, similar to how's there's never much proof leftover after a modern day video game party. except we have the tell-tale cardboard boxes. i'm willing to bet there's probably some cave drawings of pizza somewhere, but we don't recognize it as pizza because they weren't in perfect circles back then. the real question is which ancient civilization blessed us with this extraordinary gift?! perhaps it was such an almighty creation that it is the true catalyst for the demise of atlantis. the raw, unharnessed birthing of the power of pizza was to overwhelming and terrific for one culture to possess in its inception, especially an ancient culture. the civilization was crushed beneath the weight of the awesomeness that it had created/discovered. fortunately for all of us, it did not fall victim to its own fresh, unbridled power, and was saved to pass on and enlighten the rest of the world, from east to west, through all generations. it may outlive us all, and no one could expect anything different.
i wonder if it can cure cancer. . .
Thursday, May 7, 2009
aggravated assault or science?
what would make a normally peaceful ladybug so angry? and what would make said irritated insect vent its grievances upon my hapless finger? perhaps i was staring at it. i know some people get very bothered when someone is staring at them for too long, so i guess it makes complete sense that an arthropod could also possibly grow very uncomfortable when stared at. especially when the creature that is staring at it is about a billion times its size and could easily crush it. i guess if the moon was staring at me, i would feel a little intimidated and uncomfortable too. i still don't understand why it had to attack me though. (ok, attack may be a somewhat strong word, after all, its just a ladybug. however it could be argued that because of its normally docile and general friendly disposition, even the slightly insult could be viewed as a drastic departure from its usual character, placing it well within the definition of attack.)
in an attempt to give it the benefit of the doubt, it wasn't attacking me. it was merely performing an experiment: how will a human respond when i pinch its finger? but this still begs the question, why would a ladybug care?! i have a theory. i think that it was hired by aliens. in the interest of gathering information with the least impact possible, disdaining even the slightest hint that they are studying us (hence they view complete abduction with the utmost of contempt), they have been forced to outsource their research. of course this is a slow, laborious, painstaking process that isn't nearly as accurate as abduction, but they fear the consequences of discovery. apparently they have seen a few of our movies.
in an attempt to give it the benefit of the doubt, it wasn't attacking me. it was merely performing an experiment: how will a human respond when i pinch its finger? but this still begs the question, why would a ladybug care?! i have a theory. i think that it was hired by aliens. in the interest of gathering information with the least impact possible, disdaining even the slightest hint that they are studying us (hence they view complete abduction with the utmost of contempt), they have been forced to outsource their research. of course this is a slow, laborious, painstaking process that isn't nearly as accurate as abduction, but they fear the consequences of discovery. apparently they have seen a few of our movies.
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