ANOTHER PROOF OF ALIEN LONGEVITY
show only slight ageing)
Jose Antonio Cangco
Myths, legends, ancient manuscripts, and the Bible allude to long lives of groups of people in the past. Adam is said to have lived for 930 years, Noah for 950 years, and Methuselah to have reached the ripe old age of 969 years.
Bible scholars and ancient manuscript researchers say that after the great flood, the life span of humans became shorter. If aliens mentioned in ancient texts had had descendants through inter-marriage with earth people, their off- springs must have lived and reached hundreds of years or so. (According to the Book of Enoch, there were 200 “fallen angels” who fraternized with earth women. They sired offspring known as Nephilim, or giants. Goliath belonged to this lineage).
There are a lot of materials written about the distant past. What we are interested in this article is more proof, as I present it to you, of alien longevity.
My mother always wanted us siblings to celebrate Christmas with exchange of gifts. I was in first year high school in Manila (Grade 7) and 1969 was to be the first time I would be celebrating in the city. On December 23, armed with about a hundred pesos, I went to do my Christmas shopping in the popular commercial district of Rizal Avenue, a place where one can encounter all kinds of characters.
After I had bought some items for my brothers and sisters, I was looking at Christmas cards inside Alemar’s, one of Manila’s biggest bookstores when a man approached me and asked me where a certain store was. He had a light build and was a couple of inches taller than me. About 25 years old, he was wearing a pair of dark pants and a dark blue shirt with white vertical pin stripes about an inch apart. If people were wearing bright colorful dresses to celebrate the Christmas season, he projected an aura that was different, somebody who was free of traditional conventions.
He asked me for directions, uttered some strange name then said, "Follow me and show it to me.” It was the holiday season and here was a man who needed my help. The crowd was doing its holiday shopping, and with some reluctance I followed him, with the after thought that if the place he was leading me into was more than a few minutes walk away or if it looked seedy, I’d back off.
We turned into a well-lit alley a few meters away from the bookstore and went into an open coffee-shop. He motioned for me to sit down opposite him and a waitress took his order: black coffee and toast. I took a good look at him. He had a thin face, somewhat like Elvis Presley, a similar hair style, and long strands of black hair reaching down to his ears I thought he needed to have a haircut in about a week’s time. He looked like a typical Filipino though his nose was thinner and more prominent than the average Asian’s.
I wanted to get out and continue with my window shopping when he started to tell me something about being street smart. He told me to button my shirt, the top two buttons unsecured the way James Dean wore his shirts. It was December but anytime of the year in Manila was hot, especially in crowded places.
I fastened my upper shirt buttons. Just then the waitress returned to our table and delivered his coffee and toast. I didn’t have any.
Before talking, he took a sip of his coffee. I noticed that he didn’t add sugar and didn’t even stir it with a teaspoon. As he carefully lifted the white porcelain cup to his lips, I thought it was a strange way to drink coffee. By the way he raised the cup to his lips, I would have sworn that he didn’t take a sip, the coffee might not have even touched his lips. A cat would have certainly swallowed more. Then he took a bite from his toast. There were two slices of bread, and holding one end of the toast, he took a small dainty bite. I had seen ladies take bigger bites on their toasts. I had the impression that he didn’t like sliced toast though the piece he had bitten off was considerable bigger than a kitten could nip.
[Aliens do not eat our foods which they consider unfit—unsanitary, highly processed, and chemically laden. My personal observations confirm these: when I invited the girl for a burger and coke, and the boy who interviewed me for road-side snack; both declined. (You can read it here and here.)] In the Old Testament, one can read about angels or aliens eating food offered to them but these foods were simple and freshly prepared, nothing synthetic or highly processed for them. It is because of health, and not for religious reasons, that they choose their foods very carefully, preferring to eat manna.)
As if trying to impress me with his contrived ceremonious eating of toast and drinking of coffee, he turned to me and started talking. He said that pickpockets, snatchers, petty and hardened criminals do not act alone. He said other things, and every time my attention would stray, he would look straight into my eyes like I had done something illegal or had just broken the Ten Commandments. He had deep piercing eyes and he would say, “Listen to me!” several times.
There go my window shopping, I thought to myself, as this complete stranger was telling me of things which did not interest me. I began to regret why I followed him and tried to help him. I looked at him intently every time he spoke with outmost authority. I wanted to get out from his sight and hurry home to eat lunch with my family. Again he continued. Street criminals have a beer or two to steady their nerves, pickpockets “accidentally” bump into you or have accomplices distract you, or how they would glue a piece of razor blade underneath their long fingernails to slice through your bag, and most of them would probably be armed. I wanted out.
Then, with a final authoritative voice, sounding like he was glad everything was over he said, “Go!” He lightly landed his fist on my left cheek without hurting me. I had a good look at his face once more before I hurriedly left.
The experience was similar to meeting, during your summer break, a nerd who discussed nothing but school and algebra. His topic was even more horrible.
Many years had passed. After graduating from college with a four-year degree course, I was now ready to go out to find a job. I went to Makati, the financial district of the Philippines, and after applying in one office, I crossed Ayala Avenue not at the intersection but in front of Madrigal building. I was about three steps away from the curb when a man suddenly cut and crossed in front of me. When I reached the curb, I turned around and looked at him. He was already a few steps from me and was hurriedly walking away.
The man walked very quickly with big purposeful strides. But as he was crossing the street, hallway toward the center island or traffic median, he was looking at me, his head turned back, a big impish smile on his face. I immediately recognized him—the man who gave that lecture nearly a decade ago.
Maybe, one of the reasons I immediately recognized him was he was wearing an identical shirt—dark blue with white vertical pin stripes, dark pants and black leather shoes. He wore his long hair the way he did back then, though he appeared younger now with his hair neatly trimmed. My eyes grew wide in wonder as he kept walking away, looking at me, with a big smile on his face until he was lost in the crowd.
What made me so sure that he was the same guy? More than his attire, what I could not forget and which I had imprinted in my memory was his face—a complete stranger, lecturing me in a very stern and authoritative manner. The experience was like being lectured by the police for a crime you did not commit, and then let go with a warning. It is only now that I realized he was telling me to be street-wise and avoid getting in trouble.
But, there was another encounter I had with one of them spanning more than three decades. The details are not foggy; what makes this encounter only a side-note is not that it happened way back in the past, but that it lasted for only a few minutes.
I was not yet seven years old. My mom was at work, my brothers and sisters were all in school and I was left alone with our servant Aning, a nice and kind girl. We were staying at the ground floor of a two-storey doctor’s quarters in the provincial hospital compound. Our dining room had two sets of windows: one opening to a grassy area at the end of the garage, then toward the concrete terrace, and the other window to the provincial capitol, the Court of First Instance and beyond, the hills.
My allotted seat was at the head of the table, and when one was seated here, he could look straight out to the terrace, past the hospital kitchen, and then to the morgue that looked like a small red and white chapel. While eating, I would see a body wrapped in white linen, a red plaid blanket, or sometimes, not wrapped in a blanket but wearing ordinary street clothes. When there were people crying or milling at the morgue door, I would go there and see what the commotion was all about. Now, I think I know why I was given the seat of honor.
One morning, while I was walking in the dining room, I heard someone say “Diyos apo.” (Ilocano word for “Hello,” Diyos= God, apo = master), I looked out of the window and saw a beggar standing in the garage. Aning was at the kitchen but ran excitedly after me, looked out of the window, and greeted the beggar.
He was about in his early forties, wearing a clean white round neck t-shirt, khaki pants that reached down to his ankles, and leather sandals. He stretched his right hand outward in a begging gesture. He was carrying a native bag of woven palm fronds in his left hand. I noticed that his footwear was very different from what other beggars wore. They wore rubber slippers with Y-straps but this man was wearing nice black leather sandals, not slip-ons, that had straps wrapped around his heels.
The man had a soft voice, a gentle, serene face. Except for his attire and close-crop hair, he could have passed on for an enlightened Buddhist monk. Aning apologized and told him that the master of the house was not at home. I uttered we could give him rice grains, Aning immediately procured over a kilo and generously handed it to the man. I said some eggs would go well too; Aning rushed to the kitchen and grabbed some fresh eggs and handed them, as well.
The man said “Diyos ti ag-ngina” and left. (Ilocano word for “Thank you/God bless.” Diyos =God, ag-ngina=literally expensive). I saw that Aning was beaming with joy, so did I.
A few years into the new millennium. I was watching over the computer shop when a man and a young girl entered. The man looked about my age or younger and the girl was in her early twenties. They had a diskette and told me they wanted to rent a computer. I had some personal problems at that time and I did not have a good look at them. The girl seemed to be hiding behind the man; she was tall, even slightly taller than him. She was wearing blue jeans, had long hair, and was very pretty.
The man had close-crop hair and a gentle face. He was wearing a white round neck T-shirt, dark pants, black leather footwear, and looked very humble who did not fit the persona of a city dweller.
He and the girl appeared to have had a small discussion then she left. After a few minutes when some customers had left, he approached me and called me “son” in Ilocano/Tagalog though I might have looked older than he was. I told him that I was surprised that he could speak Ilocano, too. Then he gave me advice about some matters of personal interests. I never told him what was bothering me but his advice covered the situation very precisely.
If some forty years had passed between these two times I had seen him, then aliens do age slowly because he looked merely 3-5 years older than he was in the early 1960s. I am sure that aliens have discovered the secret to longevity, successfully slowing down the process of aging by several years, maybe by ten to fifteen years from our own.
It is really very difficult to say with a definitive statement that one alien year equals 10 earth years or 15 earth years because my encounters with these people were unexpected, and, at all first instances, appeared ordinary, giving me no reason to closely observe and be cognizant of them or the occasion.
Whether aliens live longer than us by a factor of ten years or fifteen years, it is noteworthy that they live in a truly evolved civilization, with an advanced culture and relationships with others that take into account highly developed moral laws.
Copyright by the Author
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