The Men Who Stare At Goats

The following is a short story based on the premise of Jon Ronson’s non-fiction book (and the subsequent film), The Men Who Stare at Goats. It blends the absurdity of the real-life "New Earth Army" with a narrative perspective.

The Jedi of Fort Bragg

The goat didn't look particularly evil. It looked bored. It was chewing on the remnants of a cigarette butt, its yellow eyes scanning the high desert of Fort Bragg with the detached malaise of a creature that had seen too much military hardware and not enough grass.

Specialist Ray Wilcox, however, was terrified of it.

"Stop projecting, Ray," whispered Sergeant First Class Bill Django. "You’re flooding the area with anxiety. The goat is a mirror. If you feel fear, he will reflect fear. You need to be a still pond."

"I’m trying, Sergeant," Ray said, sweat beading on his forehead despite the morning chill. "But he’s looking at me. He knows."

"That is precisely the problem," Django said, adjusting his rimless glasses. He was wearing standard-issue camo, but he had accessorized with a paisley bandana and a small, polished crystal hanging around his neck. "You are engaging in a duel of egos. You must dissolve the ego. Become invisible. Become... nothing."

This was the New Earth Army. Or at least, the rotting skeleton of it.

Ray had arrived at the base three months ago, a fresh-faced intelligence analyst expecting to learn how to interrogate enemy combatants. Instead, he found himself in a unit that practiced "Remote Viewing," "Cloud Bursting," and the art of walking through walls.

His instructor, Bill Django, was a legend. He claimed to have spent the 1980s dancing with Sufi mystics, hanging out with Scientologists, and developing a combat doctrine based on the "Jedi" philosophy. The goal was to create a warrior who could kill with a glance, or better yet, not kill at all, but simply subdue the enemy with the sheer vibrational power of love.

Today’s lesson was the ultimate test: The Goat Lab.

The objective was simple. Ray had to stare at the goat. He had to harness his psi-energy, focus it into a lethal beam of intent, and stop the goat’s heart. It was the ultimate non-violent weapon. No bullets, no mess. Just a silent, psychic cessation of life.

"Clear your mind," Django intoned, circling Ray slowly. "Imagine a beam of light shooting from your third eye. It is a laser of purest intention. You are not angry at the goat. You love the goat. You love him so much you are setting him free."

Ray stared. He stared until his eyes watered. He thought about death. He thought about the concept of stopping. He visualized a stop sign. He visualized a brick wall.

The goat stopped chewing. It burped.

"He’s wavering!" Ray shouted, triumphant. "He’s destabilizing!"

"He’s just digesting, Ray," Django said, checking his watch. "You’ve been at this for twenty minutes. Your aura is jagged. You’re stressing the animal out. If PETA saw this, they’d have a field day."

"I felt something, Sergeant. A ripple."

"That was your blood pressure," Django sighed, walking over to the pen. He pulled out an apple slice. The goat trotted over and ate it from his hand. "You see? He’s receptive to kindness. The death stare is a myth, Ray. It's a parlor trick the higher-ups like to show the Senators to get funding. The real power isn’t killing. It’s... softening."

Ray slumped against the fence, defeated. "So I can’t kill a goat with my mind?" The Men Who Stare At Goats

"If you could, I’d be worried about your moral character," Django said, smiling. "We’re not assassins, Ray. We’re the illuminators. We’re here to inject chaos with order, and order with chaos."

Suddenly, the heavy hum of a Humvee engine broke the desert silence. A vehicle skidded to a halt near the pen. A Colonel stepped out—a man with a jaw like a cinderblock and eyes that held zero trace of "softening."

"General Miller wants the unit ready for deployment in forty-eight hours," the Colonel barked, ignoring Ray and staring daggers at Django. "We’re going to need the cloud-busters and the intuitive interrogators on the ground in the sandbox. And none of that 'First Earth' hippie stuff, Django. We need actionable intel. We need you to find the WMDs."

Django straightened his bandana. "We don't find things, Colonel. We resonate with them."

"I don't care if you hum a tune with them," the Colonel snapped. "Pack your crystals. We leave at 0600."

As the Humvee roared away, Ray felt a cold pit in his stomach. "We're going to Iraq?"

Django watched the dust settle. The light seemed to go out of his eyes, replaced by a weary resignation Ray hadn't seen before. The irony was thick enough to choke a horse

The Men Who Stare at Goats: From Psychic Spies to Hollywood Satire

The phrase "The Men Who Stare at Goats" has evolved from a cryptic military rumor into a cultural touchstone representing the bizarre intersection of Cold War paranoia and New Age idealism. Whether referenced as Jon Ronson’s 2004 non-fiction book or the 2009 star-studded film, the title refers to a real-life chapter of U.S. military history where the boundaries between science and science fiction became dangerously blurred. The True Story: The "First Earth Battalion"

At the heart of the narrative is the First Earth Battalion, a concept developed in the late 1970s by Lieutenant Colonel Jim Channon. Channon’s vision was to create a "New Earth Army" of "warrior monks" who would utilize unconventional tactics—ranging from carrying peace symbols and playing "soothing music" to developing supernatural abilities.

The goal was to harness "psychic powers" to win wars without traditional combat. Key experiments reportedly conducted at the "Goat Lab" at Fort Bragg included:

Remote Viewing: The attempt to use extrasensory perception (ESP) to "see" distant locations or secret documents.

Invisibility and Phase Shifting: Theoretical training for soldiers to walk through walls or become invisible to the naked eye.

The "Goat Stare": The most infamous claim involved soldiers attempting to stop the heart of a goat simply by staring at it. Jon Ronson’s Investigative Journey

Investigative journalist Jon Ronson’s book, The Men Who Stare at Goats (2004), details his journey through the strange subculture of military intelligence. Ronson tracked down figures like General Albert Stubblebine III, who famously believed he could walk through walls, and investigated how these "First Earth Battalion" ideas eventually influenced darker military practices, including the use of psychological "PsyOps".

Critics noted that while the book highlights the "craziness of the schemes," it maintains a steady skepticism toward the actual effectiveness of these psychic experiments. The 2009 Film Adaptation

The Men Who Stare at Goats: Uncovering the Bizarre World of Military Paranormal Operations

Introduction

In 2009, a film titled "The Men Who Stare at Goats" hit theaters, bringing to light a peculiar aspect of military history. The movie, based on a book by Jon Ronson, tells the story of a secret unit within the U.S. Army known as Stargate, which claimed to possess the ability to perform psychic operations, including remote viewing and telepathy. But what does this have to do with goats? Let's dive into the fascinating and bizarre world of military paranormal operations. The following is a short story based on

The Origins of Remote Viewing

In the 1970s, the U.S. military began exploring the concept of remote viewing, a technique that allowed individuals to gather information about a target using extrasensory perception (ESP). The program, initially known as Stanford Research Institute (SRI) project, was led by physicists Russell Targ and Harold Puthoff. Their work caught the attention of the CIA and the U.S. Army, which saw potential military applications.

The Stargate Project

In 1978, the U.S. Army established the Stargate Project, a secret unit based at Fort Meade, Maryland. The unit's mission was to utilize remote viewing and other psychic abilities to gather intelligence and conduct military operations. Stargate operatives claimed to be able to:

  1. Remote view: Describe targets and gather information using ESP.
  2. Telepathically communicate: Send and receive thoughts with others.
  3. Psychically locate: Identify the location of enemy targets.

The Goat Connection

So, what's the connection to goats? According to Jon Ronson's book, a Stargate operative was tasked with using remote viewing to "stare at" (i.e., psychically connect with) a goat. The goal was to test the operative's ability to sense the goat's emotional state and possibly influence it. This unusual experiment was meant to demonstrate the potential of psychic operations.

Notable Examples and Controversies

Some notable examples of Stargate's alleged successes include:

However, the program was also surrounded by controversy and skepticism. Critics argued that:

Legacy and Impact

The Stargate Project was declassified in 1995, and its existence was officially acknowledged. Although the program was shut down, its legacy continues to inspire interest in the paranormal and the military's exploration of unconventional techniques.

Conclusion

The story of the Men Who Stare at Goats is a fascinating example of the military's foray into the world of paranormal operations. While the effectiveness of these techniques remains unproven, the tale serves as a reminder of the complexities and mysteries of human perception and the lengths to which governments will go to gain an edge in military operations.

Beyond the Laughs: An Exploration of “The Men Who Stare at Goats”

At first glance, the title The Men Who Stare at Goats evokes absurdist comedy—a surreal image of uniformed soldiers attempting to topple livestock with nothing but a furrowed brow. Released as a book by journalist Jon Ronson in 2004 and adapted into a feature film starring George Clooney in 2009, the story occupies a unique cultural space. It is simultaneously a hilarious satire of military machismo and a deeply unsettling work of investigative journalism. Beneath its whimsical surface, The Men Who Stare at Goats is an informative exposé of the U.S. military’s decades-long, multi-million-dollar foray into the paranormal: a world of psychic spies, “Jedi warriors,” and the fine line between innovative psychological warfare and dangerous delusion.

The central premise of the work is rooted in historical fact. Ronson investigates a secret unit within the U.S. Army known as the Stargate Project, which began in 1978. The official goal was to explore “remote viewing”—the alleged ability to perceive distant locations, people, or events using only the power of the mind. The most infamous anecdote, and the one that gives the story its title, involves a retired Lieutenant Colonel named Jim Channon. In the 1970s, disillusioned by the trauma of the Vietnam War, Channon produced a document called the First Earth Battalion Operational Manual. This New Age-infused guide proposed a “soldier-priest” who could defeat enemies not through brute force, but through paranormal means: walking through walls, clouding enemy minds, and, most famously, stopping the heartbeat of a goat simply by staring at it. While Channon claimed the goat never actually died, the metaphor stuck. Ronson’s research confirms that the military did indeed fund training exercises where soldiers attempted to kill goats with their minds, a fact that blurs the line between absurd fiction and bizarre reality.

The essay delves into the key figures who populate this shadowy world. Chief among them is Major General Albert Stubblebine III, a highly decorated intelligence officer who, in the 1980s, publicly declared his belief in remote viewing and attempted to literally project his consciousness into a room in a different building. Another is Guy Savelli, a self-proclaimed psychic who taught soldiers how to create “spy clouds” to hide tanks and how to break bricks with their bare hands. Ronson presents these men not as villains, but as complex characters—visionaries, narcissists, and true believers who were often driven by a genuine desire to find a more enlightened, less violent form of combat. Their tragedy, Ronson suggests, was that the Pentagon, desperate for an edge over the Soviet Union during the Cold War, was willing to entertain their fantasies, only to abandon them when the political winds shifted.

The thematic power of The Men Who Stare at Goats lies in its critique of the military-industrial complex. Ronson argues that the goat-staring program was not an isolated fluke but a natural outgrowth of a system that prioritizes “outside-the-box” thinking while being structurally incapable of separating brilliant innovation from sheer quackery. The essay connects the First Earth Battalion’s ideas to modern “soft kill” technologies—like the use of disco music and Barney the Dinosaur songs to torment prisoners at Guantanamo Bay—suggesting that the same desire for non-lethal, psychological control persists. Furthermore, Ronson draws a chilling line from psychic warfare to the abuses at Abu Ghraib prison, implying that once you teach soldiers to believe that the rules of conventional engagement don’t apply to the mind, it becomes a short step to suspending them in the physical world.

In the end, The Men Who Stare at Goats is far more than a comedy. It is a work of gonzo journalism that uses the ridiculous to expose the terrifying. Ronson’s deadpan narration and investigative rigor force the reader to confront an uncomfortable truth: that the people tasked with national security are just as prone to magical thinking, ego, and absurdity as anyone else. The essay concludes that the real lesson is not that soldiers tried to kill goats, but that they did so with taxpayer money, official sanction, and a straight face. By staring into the eyes of a goat, these men were not searching for a new weapon; they were, perhaps unconsciously, staring into the abyss of their own desperate hope that war could be won without leaving a scar. The laughter the story provokes is the sound of that hope—and its spectacular failure.

The Men Who Stare at Goats is both a 2004 non-fiction investigative book by journalist Jon Ronson The Jedi of Fort Bragg The goat didn't

and a 2009 satirical film starring George Clooney and Ewan McGregor. Both explore the bizarre true story of the U.S. Army's attempts to harness New Age and paranormal powers for military use. The Real-Life "New Earth Army" The story is centered on a classified program known as the First Earth Battalion , founded in the late 1970s by Lt. Col. Jim Channon. The Men Who Stare at Goats - PopMatters

Directed by Grant Heslov and based on the non-fiction book by Jon Ronson, The Men Who Stare at Goats

(2009) is a dark satirical comedy that explores the bizarre real-life efforts of the U.S. military to weaponize psychic phenomena. 🎬 Feature Highlights Genre: Satirical War Comedy

Premise: A journalist follows a self-proclaimed "psychic soldier" into Iraq to uncover the "New Earth Army"—a secret unit trained to kill goats with their minds, walk through walls, and become invisible.

Fact vs. Fiction: The film opens with the claim, "More of this is true than you would believe," drawing from declassified documents and real military research into remote viewing and "super soldiers."

Star Power: Features a heavyweight cast including George Clooney, Ewan McGregor, Jeff Bridges, and Kevin Spacey. 🎭 Meet the "Jedi" Warriors

The characters are largely inspired by actual figures from the First Earth Battalion. Inspiration / Role Lyn Cassady George Clooney

A combination of real-life "psychic" spies like Joe McMoneagle. Bob Wilton Ewan McGregor A skeptical reporter based on author Jon Ronson. Bill Django Jeff Bridges

Based on Jim Channon, the creator of the actual First Earth Battalion manual. Larry Hooper Kevin Spacey

The unit's antagonist who represents the dark side of psychic research. 🐐 Key "Psychic" Missions

The Dark Turn: From Goats to Guantanamo

This is where the story stops being a comedy.

Ronson’s most chilling discovery was that the "New Age" unit never really died. It merely morphed. The metaphysical techniques of the First Earth Battalion—breaking egos, sensory deprivation, creating extreme disorientation, and "non-lethal" psychological manipulation—were rebranded for the War on Terror.

In a University of California briefing in 1995, a former military intelligence officer presented Channon’s goat-staring manual to a new generation. By 2002, at Guantanamo Bay and Abu Ghraib, these "soft kill" techniques were being used on prisoners.

Ronson found that the man responsible for designing interrogation tactics at Guantanamo, a psychologist named Colonel Larry James, had openly studied Channon’s early work. The idea that you could "stare" a goat into submission became the idea that you could break a prisoner's will using "stress positions," sleep deprivation, and sensory overload.

The absurdity of the 1970s—meditation in the jungle—had curdled into the brutality of the 2000s: a Global War on Terror where prisoners were hooded, shackled, and forced to stare at walls for 72 hours.

As one former interrogator told Ronson: "We stopped trying to kill the goat. We started trying to convince the goat it was already dead."

The Collapse and the Legacy

By the mid-1980s, the house of cards began to fall. Albert Stubblebine was forced into early retirement after he was passed over for promotion. The Pentagon brass, having recovered from its brief New Age fever, decided that meditating generals were not a good look.

The First Earth Battalion was officially disbanded. The goat lab was shuttered. The soldiers went back to reading maps and shooting rifles.

But the men didn't disappear. They drifted into the private sector, becoming motivational speakers, energy healers, and self-help gurus. They took their military bearing and their psychic confidence and sold it to corporations.