Archive for the ‘Myth’ Category

The Grinning Man

Saturday, April 19th, 2025

One of the more bizarre incidences in UFO lore is eerie because of how unusual it is, and because to this day those that investigated it have never been able to provide a conclusive explanation.

It was November 2, 1966, and sewing machine salesman Woodrow Derenberger was driving home at night on an empty road in rural West Virginia when he saw a UFO (although he didn’t use the term when he reported the incident) blocking the road ahead. He stopped, and watched a man emerge from the craft and approach his car.

Derenberger would later say the man – who was smiling – was entirely normal in appearance and “courteous and friendly”. But he never moved his face when he spoke: all communication was telepathic. The smiling man identified himself as ‘Cold’ and said he came from “another country” and was not harmful. He told Derenberger he would contact him again and asked him to tell others he had been contacted.

Derenberger did exactly that, and reported the encounter to police the same evening. A media circus followed, including a live TV interview and reports in newspapers nationwide. Others would report seeing UFOs in the area, some said they’d even seen Cold but driven past without stopping and two children claimed to have seen a grinning man fitting Cold’s description several days before Derenberger’s sighting.

In the years that followed, Derenberger gave a full name for the figure – Indrid Cold – and claimed that not only had Cold continued regular visits but that he had identified himself as an alien from a planet called Lanulos, and even taken Derenberger to the planet multiple times. Derenberger gave talks on his experiences, and even co-wrote a (poor selling) book about it in 1971 entitled ‘Visitors From Lanulos’.

In time – mostly due to attention from paranormal researcher John Keel – Indrid Cold entered the UFO mythology, and would become linked with the Mothman cryptid. As these things do, the character evolved in myth and has become somewhat of a cryptid himself (called ‘The Grinning Man’), since appearing in movies, TV shows, books and games. Indrid Cold has long outlived his ‘creator’ and the character’s identity these days runs the gamut from friendly space alien to extradimensional devil.

In some ways Derenberger seems like another George Adamski or Howard Menger – two men who had obtained a measure of fame and fortune from their alleged alien encounters. But Derenberger had apparently not heard of either, was not particularly interested in UFOs, and those that interviewed him at the time found him genuine and not motivated by profit. Furthermore, Derenberger most decidedly did not benefit from his tale: the notoriety and attention made him paranoid and depressed, lost him his job, ruined his marriage, and eventually left him delusional.

And yet he never recanted, and to his grave in 1990 always claimed it was true. He seemed to genuinely believe he had been visited many times over decades by a mysterious smiling telepath named Indrid Cold, who had shown him wonders other men could only dream of.

Fancy, madness or the truth? With Derenberger gone and Cold now part of folklore, does it matter?

Lost Lands

Tuesday, November 14th, 2023

We all know about Atlantis and Avalon, those mythical lands where elden (and future) kings lie. As a child I was fascinated by both (particular Avalon) and used to wonder where they were. But they’re far from the only mythical lands, and while the others that have been documented through history may not be as well known, they are equally exotic and mysterious. Here’s a few of them…

Lemuria was proposed as a ‘lost continent’ in a paper written by a zoologist in 1864. It was suggested to have been a (now sunken) land bridge, and was used as an explanation for why similar animals were found in geologically separated continents. Within 30 years the idea had been appropriated by occultists who claimed that it was the true source of humanity, and their ideas became even more crackpot to the point where some claimed Lemuria still existed in locations as diverse as inside the Earth (a common belief for lost lands) or underneath the USA. The history of Lemurian writing is interesting in and of itself, with some examples being claims that Lemuria may now be Australia (or perhaps Westralia), or that the capital of the land was called Telos (class Who fans take note) and was somehow linked with another planet.

As a mythological land, Lemuria is richly used in pulp sword and sorcery as well, with notable additions to the myth being added by John Jakes (the Brak writings) and Lin Carter (Thongor). Indeed it may be the case that Lemuria is the most popular ‘lost continent’ in fantasy literature, perhaps because it’s less developed that Atlantis in most readers minds.

The idea of a North Polar civilization goes all the way back to the ancient Greeks, who dubbed men from this mythical land Hyperboreans. The name of the land – Hyperborea – dates to 450 BC, and probably referred to the most northern parts of Europe. Legends compiled by Greek scholars referred Hyperborea as a civilized paradise, with men taller and stronger than other men, unusually healthy and living to a thousand years or more. Some specific descriptions of the inhabitants described them as white with blond hair, which would in time be latched on to by the Nazis (as well as another mythical northern Greek land, Thule) as an inspiration for the Aryan ideal. During the mid 20th century the occultists (probably trying to wash their hands of Nazi links) invented fanciful tales of hyperevolved (or in some cases, devolved) humans once living in Hyperborea, but as with all of the trash uttered by Blavatsky and her ilk, this was no doubt nonsense crafted to solicit donations from fools.

In modern literature Hyperborea was famously used in Robert E Howard’s Conan books and the countless pastiche’s that followed, where it was assumed to be exactly what was suggested in Greek myth. It’s also the namesake for a tabletop RPG, and (probably due to the Conan link) often included in the worlds of other games.

Mu – and this is a familiar origin by now – was suggested (in the mid 1800s) to have been a lost continent in the Pacific, that has long since sunk and become lost to time. Obvious connections to Atlantis and Lemuria were suggested (the Victorians loved their lost continent myths!) but Mu developed it’s own identity when professional prevaricator James Churchward made a career out of writing books about the place, which included a wealth of alleged evidence that roped in everything from ancient Indian fables to the Bible. These books were extremely popular, and for a time Mu was ‘bigger’ than Atlantis in the public psyche. I think those days, much like Mu itself, are behind us now. Had you heard of Mu before this entry?

H.P. Lovecraft mentioned Mu in many of his tales, and indeed the sunken cities inhabited by creatures of his Mythos are reminiscent more of Mu than Atlantis. Unsurprisingly, many of those followed in his footsteps and added stories to his mythos have also mentioned the mythical continent.

Ys was a mythic utopian city in northwest France (Brittany) that was said to have been built (over 2000 years ago) at the very edge of the land and surrounded by a great wall to protect it from the sea. Due to misadventure and deception, the wall was breached and the city was submerged, never to be seen again. The tale is romantic and fantastical, and various interpretations include powerful magic (a sorceress and even the Devil) and monsters (mermaids and sea dragons). Much like Avalon, it has been suggested that Ys is not gone for good, and evocatively ‘when Paris falls, Ys will rise again’. While Ys was been often described in books and art and even an opera during the 19th century, it seems to now faded from historical romanticism.

As a city and not a land, Ys doesn’t play any notable role in pulp literature, but the name was appropriated for a long-running series of Japanese role-playing video games (which are almost all very good). While they mostly have nothing at all to do with the actual myth, it’s worth noting that the cover of the first game is a literal interpretation, showing a city being swallowed by the sea.