Richard Sharpe Shaver (1907-1975 AD) was a writer and artist who wrote A Warning to Future Man wherein he references technologically advanced prehistoric races. These races built underground cities and, eventually, they left Earth to colonize another planet since the Sun’s radiation was overwhelming.
However, they left some of their offspring on Earth and these slip into two species. The Teros are the ancestors of humans likely named as a reference Earth as Terra.
The others are called Deros which is in reference to detrimental robots.
These are not machines (not cyborgs, androids or robots of any sort) but are referred to as such due to their inhumane natures as they tormented the Teros.
According to Richard Shaver, Deros are still extant within their underground cities. They routinely kidnap Teros to use as a food source and also for good ol’ torture. They developed rays that they use for the purposes of surveillance as well as to beam thoughts into people’s minds.
Richard Shaver seems to have been reading H. G. Wells’ 1895 AD novel, The Time Machine with the two species that branched off from one original one, the Eloi and Morlocks (these being underground dwellers).
Yet, there is an L. Ron Hubbard’s Scientology element as Shaver claims to be writing actual history (read up on Hubbard’s claims here).
Deros also caused all sorts of mischief from “minor ‘accidental’ injuries or illnesses to airplane crashes and catastrophic natural disasters. Women especially were singled out for brutal treatment, including rape, and Mike Dash notes that ‘[s]ado-masochism was one of the prominent themes of Shaver’s writings’” (see Dash’s Borderlands: The Ultimate Exploration of the Unknown).
In Secret Cipher of the UFOnauts, the occult magick practitioner Allen H. Greenfield relates the following from his June 24, 1994 AD interview with Terry R. Wriste:
TERRY R. WRISTE: …You know how I got into this stuff. It was the Shaver thing and –
ALLEN H. GREENFIELD: O.K. So, let’s take this from there. You met Dick Shaver in?
TERRY R. WRISTE: That’d be 1961 or ‘62. Anyhow, Ray Palmer was then reprinting a lot of the Shaver stuff from the 1940s, about the hidden world, which Shaver claimed was the survival of an antediluvian civilization that had moved inside the Earth, while Palmer and others thought this was more esoteric, something fourth dimensional or whatever.
ALLEN H. GREENFIELD: I thought it was charming mythology, kind of the “demons” of the Shadow Mind vs. the Self in Jungian terms. NICAP told me it was all bunk, so, naturally, I wrote the guy.
…
TERRY R. WRISTE: Anyhow, Dick got into trouble with the law, skipped Wisconsin and went into hiding. Oddly, it was during that lost period when you were the only one publishing new stuff by him, that I got his address and got involved with the little group of dedicated guerrillas who had decided, in a most unmetaphysical way, to take the best weaponry they could “into the caves” as Shaver would have it, and blow the mind controlling bastards up. Dick had given several previous groups directions, and they had gone. Mostly [they] didn’t come back, but a few did, and I met a few, including one World War Two vet who had been with a team that entered a so-called “cave” located, and get this, near Dulce, New Mexico, under the Archuleta Mesa.
Ken’s note: okay, now we are getting somewhere as this will no longer be merely about claims and fancy tales but real evidence.
ALLEN H. GREENFIELD: Isn’t that now said to be a joint Gray Alien-Human base?
TERRY R. WRISTE: You bet. I doubt there was anything there of the sort in 1948, though, and this guy and his team went through a door, and down what seemed to be an old –VERY old elevator shaft, into a city beneath the Earth, found the Dero – this is what I was told – blew up some machinery, got Rayed and mostly zombied, killed a few DEROtypes, and retreated back the way they came in. It was surprise that probably saved their asses, the few that came back.
Ken’s note: Oh no, another mere story! But wait, there’s more!
ALLEN H. GREENFIELD: Did you believe the story?
TERRY R. WRISTE: ‘Course not. But, I figured, this could be an artifact of something real, and Shaver gave us a couple of locations right here in the South that, he said, were entrances to the caves.
ALLEN H. GREENFIELD: Right. I investigated both. One was Brown Mountain, North Carolina, and I found plenty of UFO witnesses there, including this guy, Ralph something, that claimed he had been inside the mountain, and whisked off from there to outer space. Quite a yarn.
I went there with Gene and Geneva Steinberg once, and with Jim Moseley and his daughter Betty and Tim Beckley, on Christmas Eve, in 1968 as I recall. The other entrance dates back into Cherokee Indian legend of the entrance to Fairyland, Magonia, or whatever-you-call-it. It was the home of the Yum-Wee-Chum-Dee, the Little Men, and was near Tallulah Falls in North Georgia. I searched for years for that entrance. Up where Deliverance was filmed.
…
TERRY R. WRISTE: …Remember those rocks he sent you with the pictures in them?
ALLEN H. GREENFIELD: Sure. They did contain interesting images; they seemed, as I said at the time, like holograms, especially when sectioned and made into 35mm slides. Shaver claimed they were the Record of the antediluvian civilization on Earth, literally preserved in stone. I gave them to you, I recall.
TERRY R. WRISTE: When I got ahold of them, I resectioned the rocks, used an overhead projector and came up, in one of them, with a map of that little area of North Georgia where Tallulah Falls, Toccoa Falls, Brasstown Bald—you know, the Chattahoochee National Forest. The cave entrance is clearly marked.
…
ALLEN H. GREENFIELD: That’s [southern North Carolina, and White County, Georgia area] where Peter Davidson, the Frontal Chief of the Hermetic Brotherhood of Light, set up his utopian colony a hundred years ago….So, you and a groap of paramilitary types sought out the marked entrance and found it Then what?
TERRY R. WRISTE: A door opened, we went in. We were a lot better armed than the guys in the ‘40s. An odd lot. Recent ‘Nam vets, fugitives from R.Y.M. [“an armed militant wing of the anti-Viet Nam War movement”]…And one guy, the only black guy with us, who was then in the Black Panther Party.
Ken’s note: and here comes that which makes this the best Deros story ever—or not!
TERRY R. WRISTE: Ten, in all, plus a photographer who chickened out at that point. He saw the entrance and left.
Ken’s note: sooooooooo, the only guy who could have provided anything besides yet another tall tale “chickened out” and so all we are left with, yet again, is another mere story. But there were ten people there: how about some names Wriste? We could interview all of them and see how the tales match, but alas.
Well, for the sake of it, here is the tale that was told.
ALLEN H. GREENFIELD: So you go in. Then what?
TERRY R. WRISTE: Practically a replay from the WWII thing. No elevator shaft, but a long downward slope. It got real cold. I still figured that Shaver had been there, that this was some old mining deal right up until I heard the hum.
ALLEN H. GREENFIELD: Machines? “Mechs,” as Shaver called them?
TERRY R. WRISTE: Exactly, and, I gather, we were expected. By then we were in a kind of cavern, only, I’d say, artificially hollowed out and illuminated by a greenish glow, defuse; not from a single, identifiable source. Anyhow, the whole area resembled Shaver’s less exotic subterranean story descriptions, and, in more recent terms, some of the modern alien base stories.
We were confronted by these small, grayish beings—humanoid only in the technical sense—and one of our guys said “Dero!” and started shooting. He had an M-1 rifle, if I recall. One shot, and [the little gray being] was illuminated in blue, and just gone. Then there was a sound, and I felt my own gun, an M-16, get unbearably hot I dropped it, turned to run, and was confronted by two of these little gray-skinned guys with a net.
Whatever had convinced me my rifle was hot had apparently not focused on my pistol, a vintage Luger, and one of the little net-holders received the last surprise of its life. It kind of exploded, and the other one dropped the net and ran, up the slope, with me suddenly in pursuit. When we got beyond the lighted area, though, it was just gone. I heard gun fire and explosions behind me, and that god-awful hum, and I continued, pistol in hand, looking around wildly, to go back the way I came.
Only three of us ever made it back to the surface. One of them died a year or so later, of leukemia, I think. He was only about 24-25, so maybe there’s a connection.
Ken’s note: …and then, there were two; Wriste and some unnamed person. You would figure that if 10 people go spelunking for Deros, one runs away, 6 are killed, etc. one of them would say, “Hey, maybe we should report 6 corpses,” you know, tell the families, the cops, etc.
ALLEN H. GREENFIELD: What about the other guy?
TERRY R. WRISTE: Still alive, as far as I know. He has been back twice since; once alone at another entrance not given by Shaver, but traced from legend. The other with a group similar to my own, all of which returned alive, and is now linked with several Cavern guerrilla groups.
Ken’s note: so there is another group of men who could tell the tale…and could have actual evidence.
ALLEN H. GREENFIELD: Why haven’t you gone back since?
TERRY R. WRISTE: For the next year, I was really pretty messed up emotionally. I tried to dissuade you, you’ll recall, from one of your expeditions in search of that same entrance. I kept the “Map Stone” for years, but by then had gotten completely deflected into radical political activity, both here and abroad.
I thought I was satisfied for a long time that this was a physical cave, that Shaver had been correct—and the metaphysical stuff had nothing to do with it. And we were, I thought, hopelessly outclassed technologically.
I’ve realized that Faerie is neither physical nor metaphysical because I’ve—in the last five years, I’ve seen too many experiments of an occult nature where the same beings have been conjured up and dealt with in a variety of ways. So, this stuff seems on the border of the physical and metaphysical realms, and I’m not sure, to borrow a phrase, that a truly advanced technology could be distinguished from magick.
ALLEN H. GREENFIELD: So after our political association, you dropped out of sight, and were, what, studying magick?
TERRY R. WRISTE: Until you came up with this cipher stuff: I was mainly concentrating on the abduction cases, to see if I could actively intercept and intervene. When you turned me on to the cipher stuff: I applied it to the West Virginia cases, and went out and met Indrid Cold.
ALLEN H. GREENFIELD: That’s the being that Woodrow Derenberger encountered in ‘66 in West Virginia.
Ken’s note: this is in reference to the “Mothman” case; see John A. Keel’s The Mothman Prophecies.
TERRY R. WRISTE: …I was intrigued by Cold’s statement to Woody that he “comes from a country weaker than yours” which is not so much cipher as simple metaphor for being a native of one of the worlds already conquered by the Grays and their allies. I figured he was a fugitive, and probably looking for contact with others in the know, so he probably lived fairly near the contact point, as a fugitive from the Grays.
Ken’s note: as it turns out, via a cipher, Wriste figured out Indrid Cold’s home address.
TERRY R. WRISTE: In part; I am going to protect him as much as I can; although he is neither blond nor androgynous, he is what the current UFOlogy jargon calls a “Blond” and he does indeed come from the Procyon System. Like me, he’s been an outlaw all his life.
Ken’s note: well, this just get strangerer and strangerer as we find out just how Wriste found, and will not divulge, the whereabouts of a good ol’ alien.
TERRY R. WRISTE: In any case, just from the number 112 [which he got with the original cypher], a number he gave an unknowing Woodrow Derenberger on a stretch of interstate, taking the context and using The Book of
the Law for the deciphering purposes Aiwass and the Third Order intended, I discovered clues in the very fragmentary phrases you regard as “noise” rather than “signal.”
112 = WE ARE ONE, the code phrase that tells you you’re in important territory, but also THY WIFE and LETTER and WORDS AND SIGNS and INK AND BLACK and ALL HOUSE OF GOD and THE WHEEL and I AM 49 PLACE and, as you noted CROSS 52 I FLAP.
Ken’s note: well, we are now into Aleister Crowley as the referenced Book of the Law (about which I wrote) which was channeled from someone or thing called Aiwass.
Well, yatta, yatta,yatta, Wriste claims to have come upon…
…[a] little ramshackle house with words and signs allover it about colds and stars and the like.
ALLEN H. GREENFIELD: So you just walked up to the door?
TERRY R. WRISTE: A guy, with one big difference from the descriptions, walks up, like he had been waiting; I didn’t knock, and I said, “Mr. Cold, I presume?” He smiled and said, “My friends call me Indrid.”
ALLEN H. GREENFIELD: Let me guess, he was a black guy. The Blonds can be black.
TERRY R. WRISTE: The Blonds is a conceit started by Adamski and Ric Williamson. They have the same racial features and range we do, and can project features at will, as Cold did for Derenberger, in the interest of security. Ric Williamson, I guess, believed all that Nordic-Aryan race crap from the Nazis…
We had a long talk, and he and his little group are really isolated fugitives. Their messages were primarily a distress signal, but to this date none of their own have shown up, and they continue to lay low. The story Cold told me is the basic one you hear, how much I believe I don’t know, but they speak of being overrun by the Grays and other more serious Deep Aliens working for the Negatives.
The most unusual point was his claim that they had been invited to take refuge on Earth by the Third Order—humans and posthumans who are advanced enough to qualify as Earth’s representatives in space-based governments. But Indrid Cold, or whoever he is, hasn’t heard from the Third Order, either. I think he may have moved on, but I will continue to conceal some details until I know he is safe, as I promised.
So, in the end, we have more esoteric un-evidenced stories upon more esoteric un-evidenced stories upon more esoteric un-evidenced stories. Great sci-fi but that seems to be about it…except that, as is the case with L. Ron Hubbard, people take it seriously to whatever degree.
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