Jacobs, Dr. David M.
and the Horny Hybrid Hoodlums
"The hybrids continually threatened her with death. They
pointed weapons at her and held a knife to her throat. She
would come back from these events with wounds and
bruises on her body, such as a broken collarbone, trauma
to her face, a torn Achilles tendon, and a sprained wrist...
Then the hybrids told Beverly that they could take her
body whenever they wanted and that she was always
vulnerable and never safe. One hybrid raped her, and she
was forced to perform fellatio upon another. They pinched
her, twisted her skin, and hurt her without leaving marks.
They pushed an unlit candle into her vagina..."
Horny Hybrid Hoodlums
Within the Martian Mythos of Temple University's Dr. David M.
Jacobs, Ph.D., we learn of a heretofore unknown and deeply
unsettling aspect of the Space Alien Hybrid Programme -- that of the
Horny Hybrid Hoodlums; the bastardised Space Alien / Human
half-breeds whose nefarious deeds bear a striking resemblance to
those of their predecessors, the cruel Nephilim of antiquity.
With apparently far more on their minds than just noshing on a few
cored-out bovine rectums, these Dysfunctional Draconian Delinquents
beam down from The Mothership only to display such oddly mundane and
quite human dark-side traits as unbridled rage, domestic violence
and cruelly demeaning sexual abuse.
Yes, dear readers, these OJ's from the Stars have often been spotted
making obscene and deprecating "Hey, nice tits, bitch!" type remarks
while gang raping and forcing their codependent Earth Wimmin Sex
Slaves to suck them off amidst various other forms of cruel
psychological and bodily assault. "Earth women are easy!" they say,
tossing their heads back to soak in the moonlight; cackling with
Yes, these are the Horny Hybrid Hoodlums.
And it's not a pretty picture!
Abusive Hybrid Activity
The Threat -- The Secret Agenda:
What the Aliens Really Want ... and How They Plan to Get It
David M. Jacobs, Ph.D.
Simon & Schuster ISBN 0-684-81484-6
The women who have had pleasurable contacts with hybrids are the
lucky ones. Other women have experienced ominous and difficult
relationships with them. Even the romantic hybrids can suddenly
display anger and malice. Intentional cruelty is an important
component of hybrid interaction with abductees -- especially in
When Emily's marriage was in trouble, she flirted with another man
and thought about entering into a sexual relationship with her new
admirer. This brought strong and stern warnings from her hybrid, who
was usually the romantic type. In reaction to Emily's new love
interest, her hybrid was angry and vengeful. During an abduction, he
threatened to turn her over to the gray aliens whom she hated, and
he even punished her by including her would-be paramour in a staging
incident. The hybrid "placed" Emily's friend in the hallway near
her. When she saw him, she broke away from the hybrid and rushed to
her friend, begging him to help her and to try to get her out of
there. As she clutched him, she realized it was not her friend, but
one of the gray alien "doctors" whom she despised and feared so
much. Emily was horrified, but the hybrid laughed. He said he could
do anything he wanted to her and this was just another warning to
stay away from her friend.
One could explain this episode as the anguish of a jealous lover,
and it might be that. However, it is critical to know that Emily's
husband had had a vasectomy and could not deposit sperm. Therefore,
a more probable reason for the hybrid's reaction is that he could
not allow another man's sperm to intrude upon his private
reproductive preserve. During the next several abductions, he
forcefully reiterated that Emily should have nothing to do with her
friend. Eventually she broke off with her friend and divorced her
husband. She has since remarried and moved to another state. It is
not known what her relationship with her personal-project hybrid has
been since then.
Other abductees have had experiences with personal-project hybrids
that go far beyond anger. Some hybrids demonstrate such cruelty that
their "projects" live in fear of being subjected to it again.
Deborah's case is a good example of an abusive relationship in which
the hybrid rules through fear, intimidation, and punishment. During
one abduction, she found herself on the kitchen floor with a
familiar hybrid standing near her. She responded as she always did,
by adopting the attitude that anything he did to her did not matter.
And he starts dancing around my living room and kitchen. He's
twirling around, dancing. The way he's twirling reminds me of what I
see at [Grateful] Dead concerts. He looks like he's high on
Does he say anything?
He's laughing. And he comes over real close to me and he says,
"Look! Look! I'm here. I can come here whenever I want to. You're
never, ever going to be safe." ...He looks at me and he says, "Look
what I can do," and I look over to where he's looking. There's like
a fire burning in my kitchen. I tell him I don't believe there's a
fire there. He says, "Oh, but there is. You feel the heat against
your face." ... He does a sweep with his hands around the kitchen
and says, "This is all mine. You think you own this but you don't."
He says I can take any of this at a minute's notice. He comes over
to me and he says, "I can also fuck you at a minute's notice, and
you'll do exactly as I say." And he's right. I feel this fear
starting inside of me. Nothing really matters anyway. I tell him he
can do whatever he wants because I really don't care ... But I
should care, I should not want it. But I just don't care.
He comes over and he spreads my legs apart on the floor. He's on his
hands and knees in front of me. And he says to me, "I'll remember
that you don't care I'm coming." He lifts my shirt and says, "Nice
tits." Puts it down ... And leans on me and licks my face. And then
he pulls me in to the living room ... He tells me to look around. He
says, "I can destroy your life any time I want, just look at this."
He goes and starts dancing on my table. I hear his laughter. He
keeps saying, "Remember me!" I put my hands over my ears, like it
really matters. And he says, "I can even walk out your front door
and no one will know the difference. I'm going to do that right now
-- I'm walking out your front door." He comes over to me and he
says, "I'm one of you. I'm coming back." He starts laughing again.
He says, "I' m off. Remember me." Then he laughed, and said, "Maybe
I'll go across the street and buy something. They'll never know the
difference." That's when I start crying.
What else does he do?
That's all. Then he leaves...
How is he dressed?
Jeans, coat, tennis shoes. His coat is royal BLUE.
Does he have on an undershirt?
His coat is zipped up. But he actually has blue jeans on. I've never
seen them with blue jeans on.
Do you know what kind they are?
I just don't notice it. I feel like I'm not safe in the apartment.
He can come any time he wants ... I start sobbing...
And where is he?
He went out toward my front door, I'm assuming he did what he said.
Did you hear the door open and close?
Guilt, intimidation, and death are common themes in Deborah's IHA
[i.e. Jacobspeak© technobabble for Independent Hybrid Activity; or
events which indicate the Space Alien Love Child Hybrid is acting
independent of any directives or taskings from the Grey Mothership
Collective Hive Consciousness -- remember that, as Scientists, we
put labels on things in lieu of truly understanding them, hence "IHA"
-B:. B:.] events. The hybrids continually threatened her with death.
They pointed weapons at her and held a knife to her throat. She
would come back from these events with wounds and bruises on her
body, such as a broken collarbone, trauma to her face, a torn
Achilles tendon, and a sprained wrist.
Deborah's personal-project hybrid first had intercourse with her
when she was seven years old, and the sexual contact continued over
the years with him and with other hybrids. He usually did not batter
her (other hybrids did that), but in one instance he tried to get
her to react emotionally to his activities. She refused, placing
herself in a neutral, dissociated state, so that she would not have
to contend with the fear and terror of the event. She was sitting on
the floor in her home with the angry personal-project hybrid
standing next to her.
He slaps me. He hits me. He's never done that before. He pushes me
against the wall ... I'm feeling empty inside. I don't struggle. He
has his hand under my chin. He tells me he can break my neck if he
wants to. When I don't respond, he says, "So that doesn't seem to
bother you," and he pulls my hair. And he says, "So you like this
type of treatment, huh?" And he tells me that nothing is holding me
back. I don't struggle. I am not afraid. I tell him I don't care.
And he says, "Oh, so you like this huh? Do you want me to do this?"
He says, "Just say 'No,' and I'll stop it." I don't say anything.
"Just say 'No,' and I'll stop this." I just start imagining that I'm
not there. I keep on hearing him yelling. He pushes me to the floor.
He's standing over me and I'm lying down. He says, "I'm in total
And he tells me that I can scoot away if I want and I have
full capabilities. So he says, "What do you want?" I tell him I
don't care ... He says I'm in total control, meaning me. That the
grays aren't in control, but he is. So he says, "What do you want?"
I tell him I don't care. He still has his clothes on, he's wearing
his t-shirt and he squats down on my legs and, and he says, "How
come you aren't struggling? I know you don't want this, why aren't
you struggling?" He says, "I know you're affected." And I told him
it doesn't matter what I want. He gets so angry, he hits me ... He
hits me with his fist ... He hits me full force on my jaw. And he
says, "So you like that, huh? After all I've done for you, this is
how you treat me? I'm feeling pretty angry. I'll show you what I
mean." He stands up, and he starts undressing. He takes off his
shirt and it's like I don't try to get away. "You're allowed to go.
I'm not stopping you." I just lie there. I'm able to move, so it's
not that I am unable to move.
But you're not playing his game.
I don't care. He kneels over me. He says, "You little bitch, you
like this type of treatment, huh?"
I'm just looking up. Not looking at him; imagining a lot of other
What is he doing?
He's on top of me. He's hurting me. He keeps on yelling at me. "You
selfish bitch, all you think about is yourself." While he's doing it
... It hurts! ... Everything inside hurts ... My jaw still hurts
from when he hit me ... I imagine that I'm not there, that I'm back
at home. I don't struggle. In a while he's done with me. He just
sort of stops. He seems really disgusted with me. He says, "You
really liked that, didn't you? Do you want me to do it again?" I
don't respond. It seems like I heard him but he wasn't there. And
he's squeezing my shoulders. He yells at me, "Didn't you hear me,
bitch? Do you want me to do it again?" And he stands up and he tells
me to get off the floor, that he wasn't going to satisfy me by doing
...So he stands up, says he's not going to do it again ... what does
he do next?
Puts on his clothes.
Five hybrids of different stages accosted Laura in her room one
night. They did not like the fact that she was using electronic
instruments to detect their presence -- at least that was the excuse
they used. She remembered that they had acted this way in the past,
even before she was aware of her abductions.
She was lying next to her husband when the independent hybrid
There's like five of them coming in from the foot of my bedroom ...
And they're coming in fast. They're not gray ones. There's one that
looks, it looks like it's more gray. But it's still a hybrid that's
white. The one looks really close to being human ... He's got long
hair almost like [my husband] Ed's ... I think they came in a clump.
I was like on my side. The foot of the bed is down there -- I was
looking down. I must've turned my head and been looking down,
because there's ... I don't think there's five of them. They came in
a cluster, but the one is coming up ahead. He doesn't look happy. He
looks mean ... God, he's on top of me.
Ed is lying right next to you?
Mm-hmm. There's nothing I can do.
Well, was this guy wearing anything originally?
... He's got nothing on him ... I'm looking over toward my bedroom
door, 'cause three of them are going in, they're going into the
kids' room. My kids are going to see this shit.
How do you know?
'Cause they're standing near the door.
The kids are standing in the doorway looking at you?
While he's on top of you?
Yeah ... I'm being told this is going to happen to my kids. If I
keep this up, it's going to happen to my kids.
If you keep ... keep this up? Keep what up?
The [detector] and fighting back.
Well, he's on top of you. Is this a full-fledged business, in other
words, is this just a demonstration, or does he just -- ?
I don't know, it's everything. I'm wishing I was dead. I see ... he
gets off of me and there's another one coming over. I can see that
first one going over to [my daughter] Janey. Oh, God.
The first one who just got up from you?
What's he doing with Janey?
He's telling me he's going to make her do things if I don't stop.
Does Janey react to this or just stand there and absorb it?
She's just real confused
And what's [the other one] up to?
I can't tell you. I can't. Oh, shit! Oh, God. I'm down alongside my
bed on my knees. I'm doing oral sex on this son of a bitch!
Now, this is what they're gonna make Janey do if I don't stop this.
And probably the other ones. I feel such shame.
...Now the other three kids are watching this also?
Does this proceed all the way as well, or is it just a
No, no, it proceeds. God!
Does this guy say anything, or is it just the main guy who's
talking, the first guy?
He's not saying anything, but I can sense his anger. He can be so
What happens when he's finished?
I'm standing up. They're shuffling all the kids back into their
room. The first one is right in my face. He's really angry. I'm not
going to do anything. I don't want to do anything to make them angry
How does he express his anger to you?
It's inside my head -- I just know. He said they're going to hurt my
Beverly's experiences were similar. On one occasion, three hybrids,
whom she had encountered before, came into her room, took her out of
bed, and began a night of sexual intimidation and terror.
First they made Beverly remember a conversation with a trusted
confidante during her adolescence. The confidante had told her not
to give her body away unless she was sure, because except for her
heart, it was her most precious possession. Then the hybrids told
Beverly that they could take her body whenever they wanted and that
she was always vulnerable and never safe. One hybrid raped her, and
she was forced to perform fellatio upon another. They pinched her,
twisted her skin, and hurt her without leaving marks. They pushed an
unlit candle into her vagina. They then told her she had caused her
children to be abducted.
In a different abduction event, the hybrids put images in Beverly's
mind of themselves as her close friends. They then raped her and
forced her to perform fellatio with two other hybrids. They hit her,
bit her, pinched her, and pulled her hair. On another occasion
hybrids made her envision her six- year-old daughter walking into a
room ringed with naked hybrids who had erections; she was led to
believe that her daughter would be raped by all of them.
During yet another event, the hybrids sat Beverly in a chair, stood
around her, and filled her mind with horrendous images. She saw a
graveyard with the bodies of people she loves, including her
children, who had been hacked to death and were covered with blood.
She saw a car almost hitting her child, who was saved at the last
moment by an invisible hybrid. Beverly understood that unless she
was more cooperative (there was no evidence that she had ever been
uncooperative), the hybrid would not save her son. She saw a
crucifixion scene with loved ones, including her children, hanging
on crosses. Then the hybrids put images of religious figures in her
mind and assaulted her.
They do things like, you know, pinch your skin and turn it, just
enough that drives the shit out of you but it doesn't bruise. And
pull your arms back and neck back or legs, you know, just one on one
side and one on the other side and pull your legs apart until you
think your muscles are going to tear. Things like that, that hurt
and are cruel. And pulling hair and yanking your head back, you
know? Things that hurt and nobody can see it.
Some brief musings on Jacob's New book, The Threat:
There is an interesting section in this provocative work which
documents the apparently successful efforts of a young woman to
sabotage the parasitic abductors' attempts to perform their
presumably all-important "MindScan" on her. We found the account of
interest for a number of reasons.
It has been noted by a prominent science fictionist that
sufficiently advanced technology may be virtually indistinguishable from magic. Now this is a very popular quote amongst many UFOlogists, yet raised on a diet which consists largely of
materialistic scientism, it may be difficult for many of us to
perceive that the converse may apply equally well; that sufficiently
advanced magick -- when filtered through the lens of our own
culturally-imposed perceptual framework -- may appear to be high
tech gadgetry, in much the same fashion that the angels and daemons
of yesteryear have now morphed into good and bad space aliens before
our very eyes.
To his credit, Dr. Jacobs can perceive one side of this with a great
deal of clarity. In fact, he makes the particularly convincing point
that John Mack & Edith Fiore (for instance) are therapists, not
investigators. Therefore, as Jacobs so poignantly puts it, "finding
out exactly what happened to the abductee is less important than
what the client THINKS happened to him -- the account's accuracy or
truthfulness is of little concern." [p.53]
Yet to his detriment, he then turns right around and allows his own
scientific bias to run amok; fabricating an elaborate conceptual
construct upon his own theory-embedded perceptions and
"The aliens' ability to stare into the abductees' eyes and effect a
wide variety of changes in brain function is extraordinary. At first
it seems almost supernatural or mystical, as if Svengali were
peering into Trillby's eyes, mesmerizing her to do anything he
wanted. But the mystical and supernatural are not part of the
abduction phenomenon. The aliens use their advanced knowledge of
human physiology to control humans..." [p.83]
The list of assumptions in the above paragraph is literally
staggering when viewed with the childlike eyes of an innocent,
untainted by the clever sophistry of modern scientism.
What is an "alien"? Is it a faerie? A gnome? An earth spirit? An
elemental? A leprechaun? An angel? A daemon? An elf? A goblin? A
An "abduction." Is it a literal, physical 3D event, or an etheric
("astral"), non-physical OOBE type experience?
Why is the clearly magickal influence of these transmundane entities
stripped of it's mystical wonder and relegated to the hopelessly
mundane realm of some misfiring neurons?
Why are the clearly mystical and supernatural elements of the
"alien" encounter mythos unwelcome in the dogmatic camp of
Do we feel somehow safer or more secure if we perceive the
"bewitching spell" of the unimaginably different entities to be
merely the mechanistic employment of physical technologies which
affect us merely physiologically?
It strikes us that a large portion of the culturally-validated
methodology of modern science en toto consists of merely labeling
things in lieu of understanding their true dynamics. Our modern
medical shamans, for instance, often mask the outward symptoms of a
dysfunction, quietly afraid to admit they haven't a clue as to the
root cause while our finest physicists have dutifully provided us
with labels for 'lectrons, protons, neutrons, gluons, and even
klingons yet still can't explain what holds an atom together or
whether light is a particle or a wave. But hell, at least we've done
a fine job labeling everything!
::: sigh :::
So we'll grant Dr. Jacobs the liberty to speculate a bit here, based
upon his perception of the perceptions of others who find themselves
suddenly thrust into an environment wherein there are no
culturally-validated entries in the symbol-table of the language (or
even the conceptual matrix of consensus reality!) with which they
may adequately describe the bizarre events.
"The aliens' ability to control humans comes through the
manipulation of the human brain. For example, when the alien moves
close to the abductee's eyes to begin the staring procedure, almost
immediately the abductee feels emotional and physical effects. One
way to explain this is that the alien uses the optic nerve to gain
entrance to the brain's neural pathways. By exciting impulses in the
optic nerve, the alien is able to 'travel' along the optic neural
pathway, through the optic chiasma, into the lateral geniculate
body, and then into the primary visual cortex in the back of the
brain. From there he can travel into the secondary visual cotrtex in
the occipital lobes and continue into sites in the parietal and
temporal lobes and the hypothalamus. Through that route, the alien
can stimulate neural pathways, travel to many neural sites, and
cause the 'firing' of neurons at whatever site he wants.
"Brain stimulation allows the alien to produce a range of effects.
If the alien can connect into the neural pathways, he can
reconstitute an abductee's memories. He can inject new images
directly into the visual cortex, bypassing normal retinal
observations, and cause people to 'see' things that become a part of
their abduction 'memories.' He can activate sites within the limbic
system and cause strong emotions, such as fear, anger, and
affection. He can create feelings of sexual arousal that build
relentlessly to a peak. And he can institute a form of amnesia that
helps to preserve secrecy." [p. 84]
According to this culturally accepted purely physiological model, we
can sleep more safely at night, for the clever space aliens, we are
told, are not at all mysterious goblins of seemingly omnipotent
power and dubious intent but merely some curious scientists (just
like our very own scientists!) whose clumsy bedside manner has
perhaps suffered a bit in lieu of the noble scientific pursuits of
these lovable li'l techno-nerds from the stars.
"But wait just a minute here, Brother Blue!" you say, quickly
snapping out of the spell of complacency so insidiously cast upon
you by such magickal incantations as:
the optic neural pathways
the optic chiasma
the lateral geniculate body
the primary visual cortex
the secondary visual cortex
the occipital lobes
the parietal and temporal lobes
the limbic system
Ah, so you are far too clever to be taken in by such neuro-
linguistic magick! Too wary to be bamboozled by such bewitching
techno-babble. So you have seen that the entire superstructure upon
which Dr. Jacobs has built this elaborate facade is comprised of
nothing more than the teetering scaffolding of the proposed
roller-coaster ride down the abductee's "optic nerve."
Unfortunately, as we read on, we shortly discover this candid
admission: "How the aliens engage the optic nerve is, of course,
But just for fun here, nay in the very interest of Science Itself,
let us grant this one liberty; this one small forgiveness. Let us
with great grace and mercy suppose that the proposed "optic nerve"
scenario is accurate. Let us fasten our photon belts and see where
this exercise takes us.
"Once joined with the abductee's neural pathways, the alien
essentially has free reign to do what he wants. The abductee is no
longer in control of his own thoughts. The aliens can exercise
absolute power over the minds and bodies of the abductees. They can
make the abductees think, feel, visualize, or do anything the aliens
"But another abductee successfully resisted mental engagement.
During a recent abduction, Reshama Kamal found that she had more
muscle control than usual and she used it to prevent a neural
connection. She shifted her eyes back and forth rapidly while
reciting an Arabic religious phrase. The first alien tried to lock
into her eyes but could not. He diverted her attention by causing a
pain in her head, and he threatened not to take her home, but she
refused to give in. Another alien took over and increased the
threats. Still she refused to stop, although she was getting dizzy
moving her eyes back and forth. A third alien tried, and then a
fourth. They could not stop her from shifting her eyes. Eventually
they gave up and said that they would continue the procedure at the
What horror is this?! The Friendly Space Brothers of John Mack and
Richard Boylan have morphed into galactic bullies; our lovable
Albert Einsteins From The Stars have shed their sheepish schoolboy
grins and become before our very eyes Herr Doktor Mengele! What
horror is this?!
"It's a damn good thing we remembered the 'optic nerve' scam!" we
quietly assure ourselves, for if we can only manage to break free of
the accompanying paralysis long enough, we can jiggle our eye balls
real fast and stymie that godawful MindScan. Our heroine, Reshama
Kamal, does just that and -- lo and behold! -- the diabolical plans
of the malevolent space alien Scientists are foiled by the very
Science they worship and serve! Yes, Science is once again the hero;
it has proven to be the Modern Messiah we had all hoped it would be.
Hurrah! Science has saved the day!
Yet there is that one troublesome detail which -- even despite his
admittedly anti-Svengali-ish technological/physiological bias -- Dr.
Jacobs left in the puzzle. Why did Ms. Kamal feel compelled to
recite an Arabic religious phrase during the parasitic abduction?
This oddly out-of-place detail simply does not fit into the rigid
test tube of our Scientific model, no matter how desperately we
attempt to mash it into place.
Like fingernails on the blackboard, it cries aloud in a cacophony of
discordant noise; relieving itself like Schroedinger's cat all over
our pretty white labcoats! How DARE it profane our carefully crafted
Scientific model so arrogantly! Like that one black sheep in the
family; that solitary stale Milk Dud in the package of chocolate
pleasure, spinning deosil to the widdershins way of Club Scientism's
doctors of spin, it simply refuses to be silenced.
Yea, it cries out to us, and we must needs listen to those cries.
What, then, are we to make of this obnoxious detail? This one single
bit of hopelessly unScientific superstition? For it is this one
insignificant detail which may topple our entire house of Scientific
cards if we're not careful. But examine it we must, for we are
Scientists! Unlike our primitive, superstitious ancestors we seek
only truth and this truth can be found only by employing the
Scientific Method to our research.
Like those of old who gazed upon the Medusa and were turned to
stone, so we of this Scientific New Age are afflicted with paralysis
when we behold the Big Black Eyes of the Space Alien Scientists. Let
us then use this very Science against them. Let there be
Let (s)he who is about to be MindScanned simply close their eyes or
otherwise divert their gaze. Does this stop the process
Let (s)he who is about to be MindScanned try to break free of the
paralysis by: a) a sheer act of will; first moving the little
finger... etc. b) resisting the parasites on every level c) calling
out to their God for help Are any of these methods consistently
Yea, let there be Scientific Experiments, my Brethren! And then let
us share what we have learned, so that all may benefit thereby!
Amen and Amen;
Brother Blue, B:.B:.