Self-proclaimed reptilian answers questions on Spanish forum

Self-proclaimed reptilian answers questions online

Author: "I am an agent of special project development for reptilians." Subject: A character answering questions on a Spanish digital bulletin board. Result: No verifiable proof. The paradox is not that someone claims to be a reptilian, but that such elementary fiction persists.

The opening message sets the rules from the first line: the alleged agent will only answer what does not harm his species or undermine his ownership over the human race and its works. From there, he unfolds a small doctrinal universe sustained, as in almost all cases in this genre, solely by the narrator's word.

Camouflage, hybridization, and the character’s geopolitics

According to the account, camouflage no longer uses synthetic skins—a method he says stopped being used in 1989—but rather a three-dimensional image projected onto the body, like a hologram. Regarding inter-species hybridization, he admits it has always been practiced and continues today, though he refuses to give details because it would compromise ongoing projects by his geneticists.

The technical repertoire continues: he acknowledges having a tail and feeling cold in winter, hence his need for extra heat sources. If his tail were cut off, he asserts there would be no drama, as he has artificial means to regenerate any lost body part. And the TV series V, in his version, was merely a project by his section to introduce the reptilian narrative into the collective unconscious.

What does the reptilian think about Catalonia and Franco?

According to the character, the Catalan conflict is a project by his geopolitics department designed to generate tension and division, describing it as irresolvable by design: Catalonia will not become independent, but Spain will never get rid of separatism, with phases of acute tension trinc by long periods of calm. The uncomfortable part of the argument is that it describes real politics as an external choreography, offering nothing to support the claim.

Regarding the former Head of State, he maintains that he worked for them without being one of their own, adding that this confusion—believing that whoever serves is the one who commands—harms more than one ruler. These are obviously statements without any backing. What stands out is not what is said, but the confidence with which a character dares to touch any topic.

The story runs out and mockery begins

As the conversation pogre, the formula wears thin. Questions stop seeking revelations and start seeking jokes: whether the character could hybridize with anyone, if he eats worms or elvers, if he drinks beer, if he can be reported, or if dating in his species involves different music. Some directly address another moderator to ask if they are also a reptilian.

Then appears the most recognizable trait of these spaces: the character stops being a source and becomes material for play. One participant invents an ambassador from another civilization who claims to control the reptile; another argues that the reptile himself is nothing more than a slave. The authority of the narrative dissolves among jokes, and the one who started commanding ends up ridiculed.

When the character crosses paths with usual hoaxes

In the final stretch, the conversation drifts toward old conspiracy narratives—apocryphal documents, social engineering plans attributed to supposed hidden powers, climate modification programs—that are never backed by evidence. It should be stated clearly: these theories, starting with those attributing secret power to religious or ethnic groups, lack any basis and have been repeatedly debunked. Here they function only as set dressing for the character.

There is also room for useful skepticism. Someone asks whether human society would be different without this alleged interference, or if such an advanced species wouldn't have more productive ways to spend time than watching another. Doubt, rather than the answer, sustains the interest.

What remains after the conversation

With all his answers scattered throughout the conversation, the balance is that no one won. The character convinced no one; his interlocutors dismantled nothing either, because there was nothing to dismantle. And yet, there he remains, with his holograms and his ownership over the human race. What does it say about us that such elementary fiction endures while true news is forgotten in an afternoon?