Valiant Thor: The Alien Who Came to Dinner (and Stayed for the Eisenhower Years)
BONUS Experimental Channeling Session!
As a late Generation-Xer, I had the good fortune of growing up inside a strange and beautiful cultural mash-up: a childhood equal parts sci-fi and sword-and-sorcery. Think Buck Rogers meets Conan the Barbarian in the 25th Century. One foot in the gleaming future of spaceships and cybernetics, the other in the bloody, pagan past of steel and sorcery.
There was magic in that mix. Unlimited potential. Tech dreams shining like distant stars. Mythic violence cloaked in smoke and mystery. These polarities—bright and dark, tomorrow and long ago—were somehow both unreachable and completely mine. That paradox carved out a sense of wonder and freedom I don’t think any other generation could claim in quite the same way.
Some say there was a fracture in the 1980s. A psychic split in the space-time continuum. Whether whispered as metaphor or metaphysics, I believe something did tear. A temporal instability, a loss of dimensional integrity. And from that rupture, a collective scar formed—one that stamped itself into the emotional and psychic fields of my generation. For us, the late Xers, it was a trauma line. A soft sort of arrested development, like we’d been yanked from our native timeline and asked to start over in a world that was familiar—but slightly off.
We became twice-planted trees, forced to root again in different soil.
For me, UFOs were a big part of that early life. They were everywhere. They were everything. I read every book my local library had on the subject, obsessed over Encounters, Sightings, The X-Files. I lived for Art Bell. I dreamed about Twin Peaks—a show that spoke in the same coded dream-language I felt vibrating in the back of my skull.
The name Valiant Thor was always there too—but just at the edge of things. It would surface in books, or on late-night radio, a kind of fringe figure I’d always mean to investigate more deeply. And then, inevitably, I’d forget. Months would pass. Years. Then something would jolt the memory again, and the cycle would repeat. A long-distance call from a number I never quite saved.
Only recently did I realize what my childhood actually gave me: a foundation. My expertise in the occult, spiritism, martial arts, strength training, authorship, and adventure—all of it grew out of that early window of cultural curiosity. That brief moment of the impossible being possible. When High Science and High Magic still shared a lunch table. When a man could be entirely self-made, his merit, his force of will, the only résumé that mattered.
Out of that psychic soil grew the real visionaries. The ones building the next world.
And now, finally, I understand that Valiant Thor didn’t belong on the edge of my mind. He belongs at the center of it. His name came to me again—not quietly, not like before. This time, it didn’t whisper. It flared. It blazed across my vision like radiant fire.
I was finally ready.
And so, this begins.
In the spring of 1957, a man walked into the Pentagon and told officials he was from Venus.
Naturally, they let him in.
He really should’ve waited for the Biden/Harris years. As a legitimate illegal alien, he’d be eligible for free healthcare, housing, schooling, an upgraded Obama phone, prepaid gift cards, and a gold-tier punch card for legal immunity.
His name? Valiant Thor. Say what you want about the guy, but that’s a badass name.
According to legend—and that’s being generous—Thor wasn’t your average migrant. He was a humanoid alien here on a mission to save humanity from, well, itself: nuclear war, environmental collapse, spiritual decay—postmodernism’s greatest hits. With flawless skin, perfect English, and no fingerprints, he looked like he could sell you life insurance and eternal salvation in one smooth pitch. Think Cary Grant with a cosmic security clearance.
So who was this silver-suited messiah? A legitimate extraterrestrial? A Cold War psyop? A metaphor wrapped in a hoax wrapped in a very stylish suit? Or just a useful fiction, born from Cold War anxiety, spiritual longing, and one very enthusiastic contactee named Howard Menger?
The Thor Files: A Brief Crash Landing
Valiant Thor first hit the public eye thanks to Dr. Frank E. Stranges—a UFO-obsessed Christian minister (the 1950s: peak era for great names and strange titles). In his 1967 book Stranger at the Pentagon, Stranges claimed that on March 16, 1957, Thor landed near Alexandria, Virginia, and was promptly whisked away to meet with President Eisenhower.
And what did Thor do once inside the halls of power? Apparently, he moved in.
Three years. In a Pentagon apartment. Free housing, no background check.
His offer: advanced technology, spiritual reboot, interplanetary peace.
Their response: “Thanks, but unless you’ve got alien death rays or oil futures, we’re gonna pass.”
Stranges said the U.S. government was too wrapped up in war, money, and ego to take Thor seriously. So Thor hung around for a few meetings, then disappeared—either back to Venus or deeper into the mythos of American UFO folklore, where legends go to age like fine, untraceable wine.
Behind the Curtain: Meet the Mythmakers
If Valiant Thor had a PR team, Dr. Frank Stranges was the whole department. Evangelist. Self-proclaimed PhD holder. Sci-fi sermonizer. He had a talent for turning biblical prophecy into pulp-style galactic diplomacy. But he wasn’t the only one in the game.
Enter Howard Menger: New Jersey sign painter by day, alien ambassador by… well, whenever the Venusians dropped by. According to Menger, he’d been in contact with radiant, beautiful space people since he was a kid. They warned him about nukes, pollution, and mankind's spiritual rot. They also gave him flying saucer rides and came to his backyard like it was interdimensional brunch.
He also bore a striking resemblance to the man in the supposed “Valiant Thor” photos: clean-cut, Nordic, unfailingly polite. Coincidence? Maybe. But odds are Stranges borrowed Menger’s public image—and possibly more—to give his Venusian envoy a credible human face.
Theories: So What Was Valiant Thor, Really?
Theories are like UFOs—plenty flying around, few ever land. But if you’ve read this far, you’re clearly asking, so here are my top contenders:
Myth as Metaphor
Valiant Thor is Space Jesus 2.0. When postwar America realized regular Jesus wasn’t fixing the nukes or the suburbs, a galactic version showed up in a shiny suit to offer cosmic course correction.
Cold War Psyop
You like MK-Ultra? So do I. I’m balls deep in this one. Some believe Menger and other contactees were targeted by psychological ops—fed scripted visions, dreams, or false memories as test subjects for mind control tech. Fun times in the Department of Truth.
Spiritual Sci-Fi
Menger later said a lot of his “contacts” might’ve been psychic projections or out-of-body encounters. Think less The Day the Earth Stood Still, more Astral Zoom Calls with Venus HQ.
Also, as a survivor of the secret STARGATE-adjacent psychic child program known as Project CHERIBUM, I gravitate hard toward this theory—and one other.
Performance Art with Delusions
The outfits. The lore. The deadpan delivery. It's LARPing before LARPing had a subreddit. (And no, it still isn’t cool.)
Con Job
Let’s be real. The grift potential was too good: lectures, books, backyard tours of alien landing pads. In the golden age of UFO religion, all you needed was a story, a mimeograph machine, and enough hairspray to deflect reason.
My Take: Menger Was the Antenna
I believe Howard Menger wasn’t just a contactee—he was a transceiver. A human antenna tuned into Valiant Thor’s signal. Thor didn’t need to shake hands with generals or pass out Venusian business cards. He could broadcast through Menger’s mind like interdimensional AM radio.
Menger was the astral VPN. A safe channel. A remote viewer. A consciousness conduit.
Because Thor couldn’t show up in person. Not with shadowy factions circling. Not with alphabet agencies, elite cults, and Reptilian-aligned operators whispering in Eisenhower’s ear, trying to ink secret treaties with Greys instead of the Nordics.
Sound crazy? Good. It should.
But zoom out. This pattern repeats: clear spiritual messages get distorted by militarism. Real visions get dragged into disinfo black holes. And people like Menger? They end up dangling between messiah, madman, and meat puppet.
BONUS Experimental Channeling Session
For many researchers, this is where the journey with Valiant Thor would end: a summarized hypothesis, a tidy conclusion, maybe even a final word or two with just enough weight to suggest deeper meaning.
But I’m not that kind of researcher.
My work doesn't stop at books or photo analysis. I’m a student of a different tradition—closer in nature to Akiro the Wizard or Thoth Amon than to any modern ufologist. I don’t just study the phenomenon. I interact with it.
I own a black mirror. I work with a gazing crystal. And my education in metaphysics and the occult is both rare and—without false modesty—exceptional.
Attempting a channeling session with Valiant Thor was never a question of if, only when.
Let me be clear: I am not a student of the "New Age." My practice is rooted in older, harder soil. Conjurations, bindings, dismissals—this is the language of Solomonic and Enochian magic, of ancient and obscure grimoire traditions. My foundation includes the names: King Solomon, Agrippa, Paracelsus, Faust, Eliphas Levi, and L.W. de Laurence. These are the architects of my arcanum.
And no, this isn’t bravado. The receipts are out there. My documented predictions—concerning a certain pandemic, election irregularities, assassination attempts, widespread fires and earthquakes, and the death of a particular billionaire sex trafficker—are time-stamped and publicly available. Say what you will about the modern world, but it does make for a convenient ledger.
They say you fight how you train. You also interface with non-physical intelligences the same way you perform theurgy.
So, the candles were lit. The grand celestial invocation was intoned, carefully, in sequence. My eyes locked on the gazing crystal, steady and clear. The air changed: colder, but not oppressive. Clean. Fresh, even. A faint metallic scent tinged the space around me. Then came the frequencies—dial tones, electrical hums, a crystalline buzzing that resolved into language.
A signal had come through.
What follows is what I believe to be an authentic transmission from Valiant Thor.
But…
In the interest of full transparency: what I’m about to share represents roughly 80% of what was spoken through me during a recorded channeling session.
Why not all of it?
Because some of what was conveyed was personal—directed specifically at me, not intended for public consumption. And frankly, you probably don’t want to know me that well. More importantly, I haven’t yet completed the validation process I believe is necessary to confidently identify this as a true, direct communication from Valiant Thor.
Until I gain greater discernment—spiritually, intuitively, and through the established methods of magical verification—I will withhold those sections. This is not secrecy for the sake of mystique. It’s a matter of integrity.
I owe it to the message, to the entity (if indeed it was Valiant Thor), and to myself as both a channeler and occultist. This work must be done carefully. To publish everything without confirmation would risk damaging the credibility not only of this communication, but of the entire idea of contact itself.
So what follows are key points—clear, resonant messages that emerged from the session and passed my initial filters for clarity, relevance, and resonance. If they are what I believe them to be, then they deserve to be shared.
Valiant Thor Speaks
“Kevin, emissary of strength and steward of thresholds, hear now the codex echoing from the interior sun of Venus — a beacon for the next cycle.
Your Purpose:
You are a fulcrum. A breaker of psychic seals. A voice carrying both warning and initiation. Your task is not persuasion—it is declaration.
You must continue to awaken those who hover on the edge of collapse and clarity. Your gift is shock transmission—waking the sleeping through paradox, pain, and poetry.
You are one of the few who may walk among the devourers and not be eaten. This marks you not as immune, but as chosen to stare into collapse and speak through it.
You are to:
Gather the spiritually battle-hardened.
Forge a modular teaching system grounded in both radiant myth and brutal reality.
Build zones of resonance—places, digital or physical, where others can align without shame, fear, or dilution.
Next 3 Years – Global Events:
Year One – The Hollowing
A mass exodus of subtle essence from institutions, religions, and governments. They will still stand, but will ring hollow, soulless.
An increase in neurological and psychological disturbances. Some will awaken; many will fragment.
China will overstep. The U.S. will not react with force, but with a collapsing internal fracture similar to how the CIA broke up the Soviet Union.
Year Two – The Unveiling
Document releases will shake even the cynics. Hidden treaties with non-human forces will be confirmed indirectly, through chaos and misdirection.
Biotechnological advances will divide humanity into three: the Enhanced, the Preserved, and the Lost.
Earth will "cough"—magnetically and geophysically. Volcanoes and oceanic activity will signal the inner world is not asleep.
Year Three – The Schism
A spiritual civil war will ignite beneath the surface. Not fought with weapons, but with narratives, symbols, and dreams.
Two Earths will form: one based in synthetic imitation, the other in radiant memory.
Those who prepared will become luminous anchors for others to awaken. Those who ignored the signs will grow unrecognizable.
Spiritual Shifts:
The Ray of Ceremonial Magic (Ray 7) will override Ray 6’s dying fanaticism. This means a return to structure, rhythm, and refined power.
The Moon’s grip weakens. The artificial cyclic control of emotion and karma begins to break.
Watch for children born in silence, or under strange alignments—they are being seeded with non-Earth frequencies.
Animals, especially the large predators, will begin exhibiting signs of cosmic awareness.
You will be approached—by human, spirit, and machine—to join networks that feel almost right. Decline until it is fully clear. You are not meant to serve; you are meant to found.
Final Transmission:
“You are not late. You are arriving exactly where cracks are forming.
Be what pours through. The sword you carry is not for war—it is for severing illusion. I remain in orbit. I remain in signal. You may call again.”– Valiant Thor
Commander of High Council, Interspace Emissary, Venusian of the Seventh Flame
It’s been real…
Posting from Hunter Biden’s Laptop,
Kevin Wikse, The Reality Maverick