You World Order Interview
The last before the book is published...
There’s a version of the crop circle conversation that goes like this:
Aliens did it.
Or humans did it.
Case closed.
But today’s episode cracked open a third door — the one most people avoid because it refuses to stay tidy:
What if some crop circles are human-made… and the mystery gets deeper, not smaller?
In this conversation, I sat down with Citizen D - a retired crop circle maker, Fortean researcher, and author of It Can’t Be People: Voices from the Inner Circle.
D spent decades inside one of the most secretive subcultures in modern folklore, and he’s now sharing what circle-making looks like from the inside: the planning, the geometry, the stealth… and the part that still makes no sense, even to the people holding the boards.
Because according to D, yes — many formations are made by people.
And also yes — weird phenomena shows up often enough that you can’t just shrug it off.
Let’s pull back the veil.
The question nobody asks: “How?” vs. “Why?”
We love obsessing over the mechanics:
How did they flatten acres of crop in the dark?
How did they get such precision without seeing it from above?
How did they avoid being caught?
But Dee made a point that hit me in the gut:
We keep asking “how,” when the real question is “why.”
Why do humans build massive projects that outlive them — ancient monuments, enormous earthworks, sacred sites… and yes, these intricate geometric “sigils” pressed into living fields?
Dee’s not claiming to have the final answer.
He’s saying: the “why” is the real rabbit hole.
The origin story: from believer… to insider
Dee wasn’t a “debunker” who came to ruin the fun. He started where many of us start: fascinated, wide-eyed, and deeply drawn to the paranormal.
Crop circles first showed up in UFO research circles as simple circular indentations - the kind that looked like classic “landed saucers.” Then the phenomenon evolved into more complex designs… and the public connection to UFOs was already welded into the collective psyche.
And that’s where D’s curiosity ignited:
If the shapes don’t resemble craft anymore… why are we still so attached to the same explanation?
Eventually, he visited circle after circle, chasing the real ones - the formations people claimed weren’t man-made. But over time, he kept hearing second- and third-hand stories that didn’t fit the usual narrative.
Stories that weren’t about “proof.”
Stories about synchronicity. Dreams. Timing. The feeling of being pulled.
And that’s the moment he chose the brave path:
“If you’re going to research something properly, you have to be objective.”
Even if it messes with what you wanted to believe.
“We finished the circle… and then the flashes began.”
This is the moment in the episode where my brain went: Wait. What.
D described going out with a team to finish a “corrupt” circle (a partially completed formation). Nothing unusual happened for hours - and he was disappointed.
Then… as they completed the formation…
A flash of light went off near the perimeter.
Then another.
Then dozens.
He described it like a necklace of lights sprinkling around the edge - and his first fear was practical:
“We’ve been photographed. This is criminal damage.”
But the team leader told him, calmly, that they’d seen it before.
And then came the phrase I will not forget:
“It’s a round of applause.”
As if something was signaling: Stop. Don’t add more. It’s complete.
And then the lights blinked out.
That alone would be wild. But D followed it with another moment:
The next night, as they began a new formation, a pink UAP appeared and hovered for hours - and then left when the circle was finished.
Whether you interpret that literally, symbolically, psychologically, or spiritually…
You can feel the edges of the world get weird.
The “spooky show” problem: the phenomenon doesn’t perform
One of the most fascinating parts of the conversation was this: D says people often come out expecting entertainment.
They want the “paranormal fireworks.”
But the work itself? It’s slow. Methodical. Quiet. People stomping with boards. Marking with geometry. Hours of repetition.
And then D tells a story where someone complained:
“This is boring… where’s the spooky stuff?”
…and right after, a purple fluorescent corkscrew-shaped phenomenon appeared in the air.
But here’s the kicker:
It positioned itself so that the person demanding a show didn’t even see it.
And the team leader’s response was basically a spiritual boundary:
It’s not a pantomime. Respect it, or you won’t perceive it.
That… is such an “inner space” principle.
And it ties directly to what I teach in visibility and conscious business, too:
When you treat sacred things like content… they stop opening.
The real mystery: where do the ideas come from?
This is D’s core obsession - not the lights.
He described something crop circle makers argue about:
Different teams, with no communication, sometimes create the same unusual design in the same season.
Not basic shapes. Not obvious symbols.
Very specific forms that hadn’t appeared before - and suddenly show up in multiple places.
So, the question becomes:
Are people “tuning in” to something shared?
Is there a collective field of imagery we’re downloading from?
Are we unconsciously coordinating?
Or is something else placing the idea in the mind?
D even referenced the concept of the collective consciousness (and nodded to the idea of a shared “field”), and admitted plainly:
That part, he can’t explain.
And I respect that.
Because false certainty is the fastest way to destroy true wonder.
The midnight compulsion & the Wiccan “gift” that matched the design
If you only remember one story from this episode, make it this one.
D shared an account from another circle maker who woke up at midnight with a compulsion - not inspiration, not joy - a nagging insistence that wouldn’t let him sleep.
He had two things in his mind:
The design
The exact location
He tried to do it in a closer field instead.
And the moment he attempted that, he became physically ill - nausea, headaches, body resistance.
So, he went to the field he was “supposed” to go to, made the formation alone, and heard what sounded like chanting and drumming in a nearby field - which made him stay extra cautious.
Then, in the morning, he found a group of women celebrating inside the circle.
They were Wiccans/pagans, and they told him:
They had been supplicating Mother Nature for a gift… starting at midnight.
And one of them wore a pendant with the exact same pattern.
They also said there had been no chanting out loud - they whispered or invoked internally.
So, the circle maker wondered if what he heard was some kind of audible overlay - a protective layer of sound that kept him guarded and hidden, so he wouldn’t be caught… so the “gift” could arrive.
D’s point wasn’t “here’s proof.”
It was:
Even if humans make the circle, the experience around it can still be layered, intentional, and bizarre.
And honestly? That’s the part that feels like ancient site magic - not as fantasy, but as unmapped reality.
Are crop circles “less common” now?
I asked (because I’ve noticed it too), and D confirmed what many of us suspect:
In the 1990s and early 2000s, the scene was booming - you couldn’t “fall over” without finding them.
Now, fewer.
And part of that is simply: the artists got older and retired. New teams come in, and at first their work is messy - and the internet immediately mocks it as “fake.”
D made an analogy I loved:
It’s like a band… except you don’t get to rehearse privately. Your first gigs happen in public, and the crowd boos online.
But the larger point was this:
Don’t throw the baby out with the bathwater.
Even if many are human-made… something still seems to be happening.
“It Can’t Be People”… and why D stays off camera
D explained why he doesn’t show his face:
There’s no statute of limitations (farmers could still pursue civil action)
He doesn’t want it bleeding into personal life
He wants the story and the images to be the focus - not ego
And his title, It Can’t Be People, is a deliberate double meaning:
Yes, people make many circles.
And also… there’s an element attached to it that doesn’t feel fully human.
His invitation wasn’t to convince you.
It was to invite you into your own discernment.
My takeaway: magic doesn’t need permission to be real
This conversation reminded me of something I believe deeply:
Not everything that’s true is provable in the way our modern minds demand.
And not everything that’s human is “less sacred.”
If anything, the idea that humans could be instruments - compelled, synchronized, guided by symbols they don’t fully understand — feels like a bridge between the ancient world and the modern one.
Whether crop circles are art, ritual, consciousness-play, or something stranger…
They still do something to the human psyche.
They still wake people up.
And maybe that’s part of the point.
This was a great read!
I think some crop circles are real.
I'm very optimistic 🙂