I recently read Elisabeth Zollinger’s book Crop Circles – An Open Case. I have many quibbles with this book, but cannot fault this quote from Michael Glickman, when asked his view on quarrels amongst circles researchers.
“The problem is, these children play together very badly, you know, and there is a simple rule: if you are in the playground and you pinch a little boy he will not speak to you tomorrow. And it’s all on that level…
“I know of no greater spirituality on the face of the earth, than to be decent with people, you know.
“And the trouble with these guys, with many of them, trouble with me, trouble with all of us is, that we don’t learn this simple kindergarten stuff: be nice, play nicely, don’t shout, don’t attack each other, you know?”
Noticing which formations RACCF choose to put the boot into, and which they leave be, is always an enlightening exercise, and a clear indication of which formations they know nothing about and which were either (a) the work of their extended coterie, or (b) tipped off to them.
I see little other reason for the unassuming Yatesbury flower being given such a rough ride.
Speaking of tipped off – and RACCF oft boast of having been informed of freshly made formations by their creators – it seems a little cheeky of them to accuse someone else of just that. Target of said accusations is usually The Crop Circle Connector or Steve Alexander. In the case of the Yatesbury formation, it is the latter.
Steve Alexander was not tipped off about this formation. His explanation, that he was flying to photograph the solstice quintuplet at Yatesbury and happened upon the flower, rings true, and some of us are long enough in the tooth to remember a day (though heaven knows it seems an age away now) when a chance drive or flight and a discovery of a new circle was not uncommon.
None of this matters to RACCF, of course; they take the snide assumption that Alexander was tipped off and run with it, not bothering to look before they cross and step straight into a traffic crash.
This is all becoming tiresome now, and in amongst all the insinuation and insults the silent casualty is of course the formation, kicked to death in the field before it ever had a chance to breathe and make a life of its own. No great loss, some might say, but personally I’d much rather see these ‘classical’ geometries in the fields than the likes of the garbage that currently sits and stinks at Stanton St Bernard or Silbury Hill.
I know I’m not alone in being perplexed by The Crop Circle Connector’s decision to include a section on their site devoted to sand circles.
I have no problem at all with anybody who wishes to make patterns on beaches. The latest are most=beautiful in my view. But people have been making sand circles for decades. Why have the Connector only now decided to include them?
Because they’ve also announced their direct involvement with the team creating some of this year’s most spectacular sand circles – and in Stuart Dike’s case as a member of that team – made in collaboration with an individual who has publicly admitted to having made crop circles for more than 20 years.
Which means they’ve made public that, despite the impression they would like to give to the world and to the numerous paying subscribers to their website, they’re not researchers anymore. They’re a PR company.