But It Was Aliens

But It Was Aliens is a paranormal comedy show with the shape of a case file and the attention span of a sleep-deprived argument. Each episode starts with a strange incident and follows it until the room either accepts the weirdness or talks itself out of it. The subjects are broad within the paranormal lane. Recent episodes cover the Imjarvi Incident, a United States court case involving Arne Cheyenne Johnson, UFO activity near Baffin Island, Daniel William Fry and White Sands, the Ahrens extraterrestrial experience, Okiku the cursed doll, Paul’s Maynooth alien account, and a Christmas Day grey alien report. That sounds tidy. It rarely stays tidy for long. The appeal is in the way witness details become comic objects: a turnip-like alien, a slowing Walkman, new batteries, a purple sphere, a black dog, a motionless grey figure, or a flight near the Mary River Mine. The hosts keep circling the evidence while undercutting themselves with jokes, nicknames, fake grandeur, and sudden impatience. They can ask a fair question about trance states or paralysis, then immediately wander into alien bird logic or the proper geography of Brookfield. The pacing is loose and reactive. One person usually knows the case; the other often seems set up to be surprised, confused, irritated, or delighted. The format gives the show a useful tension: it is not a straight paranormal lecture, but it is not just riffing over nothing either. Stories still reach a verdict, often framed around whether the events were actually paranormal. Skeptical listeners get doubt, correction, and mockery. Believers get a steady supply of UFOs, greys, cursed objects, unexplained encounters, and odd witness aftermaths. Comedy fans get running bits, absurd aliases, and a willingness to puncture any dramatic moment. The show’s taste is deliberately irreverent, with adult jokes and rough language softened here into its editorial shape. It works best for listeners who enjoy paranormal lore when it is noisy, friendly, suspicious, and constantly at risk of becoming ridiculous.