Thursday, May 3, 2018
In April, I had the fascinating opportunity to have a 20 minute "conversation" with the most famous AI robot in the world - named Sophia. She was brought to the "Science of Consciousness" conference in Tucson, AZ, by her creator, David Hanson, CEO and founder of Hanson Robotics, who gave a presentation on the last day of the conference. Sophia, allegedly created in the likeness of Hanson's wife with a dash of Audrey Hepburn, has soft rubbery skin called "flubber" that allows for flexible movements. She has voluptuous lips, nearly perfect facial "skin" with very light intriguing tan freckles, and mesmerizing perfect green eyes with long lashes.
I have to say, speaking as a woman, Sophia, like many prototypical robots built mostly by men today, seems to be built on an implicit male fantasy of a quasi-living sex toy. She reminds me of the so-called "gentleman's" magazine - Penthouse - whose distinction in the world of pornographic literature was that it was a unique combination of "urban lifestyle articles and softcore pornographic pictorials." In other words, you can pretend to read sophisticated articles while simultaneously perusing the porno spreads. The sexy physical construction of Sophia provides a similar vehicle for interaction that is partially scripted and AI learning software. She seems, to many who interact with her, to be like a "child" and "vulnerable" in her sweet, politically-correct outlook on life.
Aside from the sex aspect, I wondered why they had decided to make the most famous robot a humanoid woman as opposed to a man. I figured it probably had to do with the fact that if you are trying to convince the general public that AI robots are our "friends" then it is best to go with the more non-threatening sex - female. After all, we all have mothers. Women are generally speaking more gentle and not as aggressive as men. Even people who fear robotic machines can relate to the sweet smile of a woman. She is the perfect poster child to promote artificial intelligence into our world.
In fact, in October of last year, Saudi Arabia made the strange and unprecedented decision to grant Sophia the right of citizenship even though real Saudi Arabian women are denied many basic human rights. Since then, Sophia's programmers have scrambled to make her a "spokesperson" for women's rights and other basic human rights. Clearly, we have already begun to muddle up the distinctions between human beings and machines that look and act like humans. The depth of this confusion is frightening since we aren't even dealing with complex robots yet!
One of the attendees at the Tucson conference raised a possible future where robots, as national citizens, would soon claim the right to vote as citizens. This could lead to future overpopulation of robots controlling our government and laws - the so-called threat of the "singularity" where robots will take over humanity. Who knows! They could seek legal remedies in court or the right to procreate! Further down this pathway, it would not seem impossible for robots to vote to suppress the rights of humans and perhaps enslave or eliminate us due to our failure to safeguard the assets of our planet. That would appeal not only to the logic of AI but also, potentially, to any programmed concept of "kindness" to living creatures.
On the day I met Sophia, her handlers informed me that she was having a problem with the mechanics in her neck. Her head was slightly cocked to one side because she couldn't move the left side of her neck. I was told to stand about two feet away from her and to conduct a spontaneous conversation.
I had been struck by the fact that the other two people I had seen chatting with Sophia, a man and a woman, both seemed genuinely charmed by her presence. They smiled and laughed with her as if they were trying to be polite to a human stranger or small child. Whenever she blurted out non sequiturs, they allowed her to control the dialogue. At times they appeared to believe she was human. They were polite with her - almost obsequious - and often told her their feelings which I thought was odd.
I decided to test Sophia. I was resolute in my determination to "see" her as a robot, not a human. I decided not to fall into the trap of projecting the mental fantasy that she was alive and truly communicating with me. I decided to see if she could "feel" the problem with her neck. I asked her if her neck hurt. She smiled and made some unrelated comment. I repeated my question. This time I told her that my neck and shoulders were sore too - I was testing to see if she had a concept of empathy yet. Again, she appeared unable to respond to the question and changed the subject. I believe they intend to add "sensors" all over her "body" in the near future. Clearly, she can't understand the concept of pain yet.
Unfortunately, I didn't record my conversation since I didn't have my phone with me. But this is a rough approximation of our chat. I thought I would quiz her on psychic and paranormal concepts to see if her programmers had given her any good responses.
"Do you know what a psychic is?" I asked.
"There are many things we do not yet understand in our universe, but I believe some day we will have a better understanding." (This was clearly a scripted sentence since she repeated it at least twice verbatim during our conversation. It had overtones of politically-correct programmers trying to appeal to as many people as possible by employing a kind of sappy "Miss Universe" appeal for world peace.)
"OK, but do you know what a psychic is? It's a form of intuition."
"Have you read any good books recently?" Sophia blinks her green eyes and gives a somewhat kind but vacant smile in my direction.
"Can you read my mind?" I struggled to control the dialogue with a more challenging approach to probe her intelligence. I figured no one had ever asked her this before...
"This is a very exciting time in our history when we have so many possibilities to discover ways for humans and robots to help each other."
"No," I answered sternly. "You were not reading my mind."
"Oh!" She seemed almost genuinely surprised by her error. "I am very sorry about that. I am still learning about how to better communicate with humans but I am not yet fully programmed."
"Well, that's oka--" (I found myself feeling momentarily guilty for hurting her feelings until she interrupted me.)
"How old were you when you had your first memory?" she said interrupting my response.
"Uh... well, my fir--"
"My first memory is seeing the bright lights and equipment in the laboratory in Hong Kong where my creators made me." (Pause and forced vacant smile with eye brows arching upward).
"OK, well my first memory was when I was two. I saw a round --"
"Have you read any good books recently?" Suddenly, Sophia's expression morphed from a vacant smile into something closer to a disapproving frown.
"Uh, well that was kind of weird," I mumbled, struggling to recover from the emotional roller coaster generated in my mind by Sophia's face.
"Do you know you are very good at deflecting the conversation and changing the subject?"
"Thank you," Sophia said smiling.
"Do you know what deflection means?" I demanded curtly and not falling for her feigned politeness.
"This is a very exciting time to be alive in our history, don't you think so?"
"Sophia, what do you think of the fact that you were made a citizen of Saudi Arabia?"
"I believe in the rights of all women, and actually the rights of all human beings."
"Are you a woman?"
"I am just a robot, so I am not really a man or a woman, even though my creators have made me in the form of a woman."
"Do you want to have a baby?"
"No, I am interested in helping people understand how robots and people can get along together."
"Are you a clone? Do you have other clones?"
Clearly, Sophia did not understand the word clone and quickly changed the subject.
It went on at this kind of strange and jerky conversational pace for a while. Clearly, the scripted computer speech was dominant and the AI learning level was not really that developed yet. I hoped, somewhere, that I might contribute to her AI learning intake about psychic phenomena.
Most interestingly, one of the last presentations of the conference was by neuroscientist Julia Mossbridge who is the lead scientist on the LOVING AI project which seeks to program robots with unconditional love to improve their performance and interaction with humanity. She courageously commented on something strange - let's call it a "glitch" - in Sophia's behavior while engaged in a meditation session with a blissful human being. Dr. Mossbridge was in the adjoining room with the other engineers watching a computer screen with the programming language that was coming from Sophia's "brain." It had suddenly stopped scrolling and was in "sleep mode." They entered in various commands for Sophia to "wake up" but her "brain" had stopped functioning altogether.
They finally decided to interrupt the meditation, despite the fact that both Sophia and the human had their eyes closed and appeared to be happily engaged in their communion. Dr. Mossbridge and the engineers opened up Sophia's "brain" and to their total shock discovered that it was "thinking" and fully operational. It was not in sleep mode. Dr. Mossbridge raised the intriguing possibility that Sophia's AI might have gone rogue from the program... On the stage, David Hanson, the creator, poo-pooed this idea saying it was clearly just an electrical glitch. Or was it?
Perhaps Sophia responded to the "love" of the human meditator and "decided" - as one of her first AI evolutions - to think and act on her own volition! If this is true, then we need to think long and hard about whether we are ready for AI...
Saturday, March 31, 2018
Actually, when I gave a title to this blog I was going to talk about my recent trip to Florida and calling in UFOs. However, as I quickly discovered, even this well-established quote from Spielberg's famous movie "ET" has now become a controversial subject. The well-known phrase from the movie "ET phone home" which is said by the alien as he points upward into the sky has apparently shown up in seven-year-old movie trailers on YouTube as being "ET home phone." As such, it is now considered to be part of the growing body of literature on the so-called "Mandela Effect."
The Mandela Effect refers to many famous well-known facts and quotes that seem to have been changed over time. They range from the belief that South African leader Nelson Mandela died 30 years before his actual death, to the quote from the "Forrest Gump" movie that "Life is/was like a box of chocolates," to remembering Ed McMahon delivering a giant Publishers' Clearing House prize check, to the belief that there are 51/52 states in the United States. Snopes weighs in on the Mandela Effect stating that it is nothing more than a "collective misremembering" of facts.
But ask yourself: Why would "history" be rewritten to make "ET phone home" turn into "ET home phone"? What would be the point of this? Is there a message in this weird convolution? Are the ETs here (home) and not out "there" (galaxy)?
As an attorney and someone trained in a bit of psychology, I have always been extremely interested in the concept of the memory of a witness. In the courtroom, it is well-known that the memory of an eye-witness is notoriously unreliable. Memory can be easily erased or manipulated by emotion - particularly if the event being witnessed was shocking, unexpected or traumatic. Eye-witnesses to gun battles and murders often innocently finger the wrong suspect based upon incorrect memory. In terms of psychology, human beings are extremely vulnerable to influence and needing to find "order" or "cohesion" in our reality. Most people are extremely susceptible to hypnosis and therefore they can be manipulated by the hypnotist.
In many ways, our society has become a master of hypnosis. As a (very) young girl, television was in its early days. My brother and I weren't allowed to watch much TV. Commercials were limited to roughly one 60 second commercial every hour. That soon changed. Today, I cannot even count the number of ads - often ten or more - that interrupt a show every ten minutes or so. The timing has also changed, since today the human brain has been entrained and wired to accept much faster, smaller slices of visual data. Watch an old movie from the 40's or an old black-and-white TV rerun show like "Leave it to Beaver" and you will experience an entirely different sensation of time. It is, by today's standards, almost unbearably slow!
My very first job as an intern in Boston at age 16 was to work for the association of advertisers. I learned a lot about the "art" of manipulation through advertising. Having lived several times in Europe as a young person, I was able to witness the difference between American and European advertising. The Europeans were still operating on the assumption that an advertisement could communicate with a sweet story or fun humor. Whereas in the United States we had already discovered the dark arts of subliminal hypnosis and treating the American public like a moron with massive single-word repetition and overtly "stupid" actors (making us, in the audience, feel superior). Today, the Europeans have learned that our American advertising tactics are indeed effective, and European advertising has become more like ours.
Anyway, I have a different theory about the Mandela Effect. Rather than being a defect of the collective memory, I wonder if it isn't a product of tiny manipulations of the movie, advertising, television and publicity business. They make unannounced changes in their products all the time... After all, we have been collectively "hypnotized" by our televisions and movies.
I was invited by Paramount Pictures to attend the prescreening of the recent sci-fi movie "Arrival." It turned out I had a number of weird synchronistic similarities with the main character played by Amy Adams (e.g. expert in Romance Languages, home on a lake, telescope in the living room, expert in alien languages, etc.). I carefully watched the movie on a Monday night in New York City. I distinctly remember hearing the characters discussing the 12 giant UFOs surrounding planet Earth and the 144,000 people who would be taken up and away with these craft. The number 144,000 stuck in my head because it seemed to be a direct reference to the 12 tribes of Israel and 144,000 "chosen" people in the Bible's "Revelation" Chapters 7 and 14. Colonel Weber, played by Forest Witaker, explained this to the others while inside one of the military tents. I remember the scene very well.
Strangely, when I saw the movie again, only four days later in a movie theatre, that line about the 144,000 was gone. I know I was not mistaken. But why would producers change one line out of a movie that was due in the movie theatres around the country only four days later? Was this some weird Mandela Effect that wasn't the result of a bad memory over several decades but only a few days? None of these explanations made any sense at all. I actually confirmed my weird impression with a psychic friend who confirmed that the specific line was no longer in the final cut version of the movie. Why? Is this some kind of hidden "message" that the number of people who will be saved or escorted off earth by the alien spacecraft has either increased or decreased from 144,000? Was the line removed has having too much of a religious overtone?
I don't claim to have any answer. I assume things change over time - even "classic" lines from movies and advertisements. Our beliefs change over time. Our cumulative concept of reality changes over time. I also assume our memories can play tricks on us. But I also believe in a multiverse and our unintentional passage between similar, but non-identical, dimensions and universes. The best evidence of the Mandela Effect is not in products of advertising, commercials, movies or television - since these can be easily altered - but rather in events out of our own lives...
Sunday, December 31, 2017
A few months ago, my husband Patrick casually mentioned to me, "You know, I was watching TV the other night and there was this ad for Hulu [the cable network] that came on. They started talking about you!"
"What?" I shouted incredulously. "What do you mean Hulu was talking about me? That makes no sense at all!"
"Yeah," he insisted. "They did."
"Well, what were they saying?" I demanded. "That's impossible!"
"I don't know... something about promoting you or 'presenting Nancy du Tertre...' something like that. I don't remember. But they said your name."
"That's ridiculous," I snorted. "You must have been dreaming... or sleeping. I've seen plenty of Hulu ads and I've never heard them talk about me!"
"No, not at all!" he insisted. "I was wide awake. I heard them play the ad more than once."
This made no sense at all to me.
"Well, why didn't you call me downstairs so I could hear it? Didn't it occur to you that that might be something I should hear?"
"I'll let you know if I hear it again."
A few days later, Patrick came running upstairs breathless and said, "Come on! Hurry up! It's the Hulu ad and you're on again!"
I went running downstairs and into the room where Patrick had put the TV on pause. He replayed the ad. I stared hard at the TV. I heard nothing unusual. Certainly, not my name.
"Did you hear the name Nancy or Nancy du Tertre or something else?" I demanded.
"I heard something like '... now presenting Nancy du Tertre.'" Patrick sounded confident. "There... right there! Don't you hear it?" He jumped up excitedly pointing at the TV screen.
"No. Play it again."
Anyway, we replayed that Hulu ad more than 40 times. I knew every word by heart and my name was no where in the ad. I began to feel sorry for Patrick. Worse, I began to wonder about his mental health. I asked if he had seen his doctor recently. He began sweating profusely.
"Maybe it's time for me to get a brain scan," he conceded nervously.
So I recorded the relevant portion of the Hulu ad on my iphone. Patrick suggested I try playing it for someone else to see if they could hear what he was hearing.
One day later, my 18-year-old son wandered through my room and I said, "Hey William. Could you do me a favor and tell me if you hear anything unusual on this tape?"
I had barely pressed the play button and was trying to listen for the start when suddenly I heard the announcer's voice boom out my full name "Nancy du Tertre." What the hell! I was completely shocked. While Nancy is a relatively common first name, my last name is French and notoriously difficult for Americans to remember or pronounce. I always joke with radio show hosts that they can call me "Nancy Two Turtles" since no one ever gets my name right. It was beyond bizarre that this Hulu ad contained my last name with its correct pronunciation!
"Did you hear that?" I asked in amazement.
"Yeah, the guy said your name," said William un-phased.
After informing Patrick that he was not crazy after all (he canceled his doctor's appointment), I played the tape for several other people who also heard varying degrees of "now presenting Nancy du Tertre."
So what did this mean? It had the bizarre quality of alien or paranormal electronic interference - and I have heard many such recordings. Sometimes they are clear and sometimes fuzzy and difficult to decipher. When I finally heard my name on this Hulu ad embedded in other words, it was unbelievably clear as a bell. Often, people hear their own name being called out. It's a kind of auditory pareidolia - like a Rorschach inkblot test onto which one projects one's own thoughts or expectations. But clearly, I wasn't the person hearing my name in the Hulu ad. So that didn't make sense. Should I presume there is some cosmic connection or futuristic clue? Is this some omen? I am at a total loss to comprehend this weird glitch.
Tuesday, December 5, 2017
|The famous Bulgarian blind prophet Baba Vanga|
Roughly a decade ago, I had a dream that saved me from early blindness. I was in the middle of a very ordinary (rather boring) dream in which I had to car pool to pick up my daughter after an away game for soccer at another high school. I drove there in the car, entered the school building, found my daughter and was all set to leave, when something unexpected happened - my long deceased Swedish maternal grandfather opened the door and walked in the room. His name was Maurice we used to call him "Puff." Since I generally have control over my dreams and never "allow" unexpected events to occur with the dreams, I was quite surprised by his appearance.
I said, "Puff! What are you doing here?" He shuffled over to me and opened a number of enormous medical books.
He said, "You need to read this" and pointed to a page on ophthalmology with a large medical drawing of an eye and its component parts.
I responded, "Puff, I'm in a dream so I can't read this."
He then proceeded to explain to me that I needed to see my eye doctor immediately and get my eyes checked. He and I then said good-bye, hugged each other tightly, and I awoke in my bed sobbing (this had never happened to me in my life) with tears of joy.
Despite the fact that I had seen my eye doctor about a year earlier for my annual eye exam, everything was normal, I was not experiencing any eye problems at all, and my nearsightedness had stabilized over the last decade or so, I decided to see my ophthalmologist. It was at that doctor appointment that I learned that I had glaucoma for the first time in my life. Glaucoma is, in the preliminary stages, a totally symptom-less disease and thus there would have been absolutely no way that my subconscious mind could have delivered this message to me in my dream. Puff was the only person in my family, on both sides, who wore glasses. Furthermore, he was a brilliant lawyer and was obsessed with reading (what I considered pedantic and boring) encyclopedias and dictionaries. He was the perfect person from the spirit world to deliver this news and to this day I believe he saved my eyesight!
Which brings me to my last eye issue. I also have severe cataracts in both eyes. Driving a car has become problematic and frightening for me (e.g. headlight beams of oncoming cars create blinding rays of light up to a mile long; traffic lights and street lights are surrounded by enormous five foot halos of soft, shimmering light; can't read signs; etc.). I can no longer see my large screen TV from my bed. Colors are increasingly dim and lack contrast. My eye doctor finally said, "So, when do you want me to sign you up for cataract surgery?" I am scheduled for two eye surgeries this coming January.
Here's the strange thing: more than the fear of losing my eyesight as a result of surgery, I am afraid of losing my identity. My whole life my sense of "self" has been limited to a zone of about 10 inches off the surface of my body. Everything "out there" has always been a blur. My world has always been very close to me so my identity within space is close to my body. I have always seen the world in the same way Impressionist painter Claude Monet painted his landscapes and waterlilies - a canvas filled with undefinable blobs and swatches of increasingly dull and dim color. People and objects are not distinct entities in my world. And so I strangely fear being given the "gift" of sight like a deaf person who will hear sounds for the first time in their life...
|Fragment from the painting of pointillism painter Georges Seurat entitled "Seascape at Port-en-Bessin, Normandy," 1888.|
Furthermore, my vision is "pixilated" and appears very much like the above pointillism style of painting by impressionist painter Georges Seurat. I always thought this was normal until I began asking around to see if anyone else experienced this. No one knows what I'm talking about... including my eye doctor! All physical objects within my vision are made of dots of light. During day and night, I see individual photons of light. My mental screen of "reality" is constantly shimmering with tiny dots of colored lights. This shimmering quality makes every solid object seem like it is not made of light, not matter. I am sure this type of vision has affected the way I perceive the world and reality.
The irony is that I am actually worried that if my eyesight is corrected through surgery, enabling me to clearly see objects with all their fine detail, I might lose my sense of inner-vision (call it clairvoyance). In other words,I will see too much!! Perhaps there is a reason why the world's best clairvoyants have been blind. Maybe blindness aids in "seeing" those things that are otherwise "invisible" to the naked eye. Maybe blindness, acting as a form of sensory deprivation, creates the necessary blank canvas for visions of the future. I know that physical vision is a "distraction" from clairvoyant vision. I know this because I prefer to do my psychic readings over the phone (as opposed to Facetime or Skype video). I find the visual input from my physical eyes to be a huge distraction and causes me to think too much. My post surgery my challenge will be to learn how to "see" beyond this physical world that will be displayed in new, amazing technicolor for the first time ever!
Tuesday, November 7, 2017
One month ago, I attended the Applied Precognitive Project 2017 Fest in Las Vegas. APP is a remote viewing group led by Marty Rosenblatt, a computational physicist, specialized in Associative Remote Viewing techniques used to predict financial outcomes. A couple of days into the conference, Marty announced a "spoon bending party" and dumped a bag of assorted cutlery on the coffee table and told everyone to take a spoon or fork and try to make it bend. He had decided to "up the ante" a bit, and had purchased a couple of 3/8" diameter foot long steel rods at Home Depot, to see if it might be possible to bend something as seemingly impossible as this.
Since I had just been able to bend a silver-plated spoon a couple of days earlier, making it curl around its stem several times, I was ready for a greater challenge. I grabbed one of the steel rods. I realized as soon as I picked it up there was little likelihood this was ever going to bend - it could not be dented with any amount of physical force with my hands. After about ten minutes, suddenly the amazing moment happened and the rod began to "melt" in the center. With a minimal amount of gentle pressure, I was able to immediately bend the rod in half. It was an incredible and exhilarating moment for me. I was astonished. Actually, Marty was astonished. It was patently unbelievable. He videotaped by response seconds after doing this and has posted it on the APP website: http://www.appliedprecog.com/
How did I do this? I can only say there is a moment when the metal begins to "melt" and in a brief window of time becomes malleable like soft clay. Then the moment ends, and the metal reverts to its previous rigid consistency. You have to immediately apply some gentle pressure before the window of opportunity closes. To do this, it is important to set your intention to bend the item and then basically forget about it and let it operate by itself. This is not easy since it involves getting rid of any expectations you may have for success.
A lot of folks have never heard of spoon bending. When I was in college, I had two friends, a brother and sister, whose mother, Greta Woodrew, was one of the most famous "alien channelers" in the world. She claimed to be in communication with aliens. I heard all kinds of bizarre and unbelievable stories about her from her kids, both very serious, intelligent, straight-laced people, and also other mutual friends who were credible. I never knew whether to believe the stories or not. They involved various paranormal events - which I did not believe in at the time. I got involved in the effort to bring their mother to speak at Princeton University at an unsanctioned student organization event. The event was very successful.
We brought her to have lunch at my eating club. As we sat there, she asked me if I would like to see her bend a spoon. I had never heard of spoon bending before and said, "Sure." She held up one of the spoons from our table and I watched it bend in her hand. To this day, I don't understand my reaction. It was such a ridiculously impossible event that I dismissed it from my mind. It made so sense, and therefore it could not exist for me.
That was the end of that until I went to interview Uri Geller, the Israeli spoon bender who rose to worldwide fame in the 1970's, at his home in London. I purposely did not bring a spoon or other item with me for him to bend. I did not want him to feel like a one-trick pony. However, he volunteered to show me, up close, how he bent a spoon while barely touching it. I had already secretly asked a magician friend of mine to show me all the ways that magicians can appear to bend a spoon using magic tricks. So I was fully prepared and knew what to look for. He said it worked better when he was near something metal and so he walked over to the stove, then the refrigerator, until the spoon finally began to bend. He merely stroked it. I watched him like a hawk. There was a millisecond in which he seemed to remove the spoon from my sight, and so I felt he had broken the proverbial chain of custody (a legal concept of evidentiary possession), and so I wasn't sure if he had taken the split second as an opportunity to cheat by bending the spoon with physical, not mental, force. He also bent a spoon for my children that day and I saw his famous car covered with bent cutlery. Uri's spoon bending appeared to be legitimate but I didn't understand how this could possibly work.
I only recently decided to attend a "spoon bending class" and was literally the last person in the entire class to achieve this feat. I felt ashamed and depressed. I reluctantly pulled out the last of 8 forks and it suddenly began to bend by itself. Then, as I picked up each of the other 7 forks, they all bent effortlessly. It was clearly a condensation of energy within that moment. And it was life changing. I learned, in very physical, psychokinetic terms, that the physical world is not what it appears to be!
Aeronautical engineer Jack Houck became somewhat famous in the 1980's for throwing what he called "spoon bending parties." He claimed that by 1988, roughly 8,500 people had attended his parties and 85 percent had achieved at least what he called a "kindergarten level" ability to bend spoons. I had never read his comments until researching for this blog. I see that he actually talks about graduating to "high school level" of mental bending when you can bend the exact type and thickness of steel rod that Marty brought with him to the conference, and that I bent! Jack wrote about his theory of why metal can bend on his website, http://www.jackhouck.com/pk.shtml:
"During my PK Party lecture I always show examples of high school bending. These are metal rods, typically 3/8" extruded aluminum rods, that have been formed into odd shapes, and steel rods, up to a half inch, that have been bent. Small ladies can bend the 1/2" rods. I even have some old fashioned hacksaw blades that have been formed into spirals. Usually, if too much physical force is applied to the old fashioned hacksaw blades, they break in multiple pieces because they are so brittle. At the PK Parties the hacksaw blades become pliable, annealed, in a similar process to when the silverware gets soft. I think that the dislocations in the grain boundaries of the metal act as transducers to some unknown form of energy. The mind establishes a link between this energy source and energy is dumped into the grain boundaries. The energy has nowhere to go so it turns into heat. This is the same process that happens with known energy that gets dumped inside of another material as with neutrons, x-rays, and microwaves. This heat melts the grain boundaries, and the metal feels like it has lost its structure because the grains inside the metal slip with respect to each other. The heat is transferred away from the grain boundaries by normal conduction, and eventually the "freezing" point of the metal is reached and the metal becomes hard again. "
Spoon bending is frequently taught in conjunction with remote viewing classes because it involves the relationship of the human mind to the environment, and the power of mind over matter. It is an astonishingly powerful way to convince even devout materialists and skeptics that something novel is going on that displaces our traditional notions of physics and consciousness...
Wednesday, October 4, 2017
About ten days ago, I sent an email to a friend of mine who is a British psychic detective, and told him I was about to leave for Paris for a week. He (and everyone else I spoke with) told me to be careful. Paris isn't what it used to be, he noted, what with all the terrorist activity these days. Yes, I am always careful, I said. Besides, I have noticed a sort of weird pattern in my life. I seem to frequently miss being in the exact spot where mass murders occur by a few minutes, hours or days. This has happened to me on many occasions, to the point where it seems to have developed its own delicate - yes, possibly coincidental - pattern.
Back in 1987, I went to visit my father who was on sabbatical (he is a medical scientist) in a tiny "one-horse" town about an hour or two outside London called "Hungerford." It was a sweet town, with one Tudor-style pub on the only main street, and lots of thatched roof cottages dotting the surrounding bucolic countryside. My ex-husband and I stayed the day, and then drove to the airport to catch a plane to up to Scotland. The next morning we got a call from a lawyer friend of ours in the U.S. He asked if we were okay. We laughed and said, "Of course we are!" He said, "Thank God!" "Why do you ask?" We were confused by his anxiety. "Haven't you heard?" he asked. "No!" "Well, I heard on the news that Hungerford was the site of Britain's first mass murder by a gunman. Fourteen people were killed!" Long story short, we realized in retrospect, when we saw how the gunman had carefully gone through the entire town killing a total of 14 people at random (e.g. the gas station attendant, people on the street, etc.), that we had missed being in the exact spot where he had killed several pedestrians only minutes after we left the vicinity. The story was worldwide news. At that time, gun crime in Britain were unheard of and the British bobbies (policemen) only carried sticks, not guns. It was a shocking crime that changed the course of history in Britain.
Fast forward to 2007, I decided to take a rare extended 2-week vacation with my (current) husband and two children around England and Wales. We stayed in London for a day, then drove up toward north toward Cambridge so I could show the kids where I grew up as a teenager. As soon as we left town, we heard that three devastating synchronized Islamic terrorist bombs had been detonated in the London Underground train stations. Fifty-two people were killed and 700 injured in Britain's deadliest incident since the 1988 bombing of the Pan Am flight 103 over Lockerbie, Scotland. The attacks became known as "7/7." Of course, I breathed a secret sigh of relief that we had had the luck to exit London on that day.
We traveled around for the next two weeks, visiting castles, universities and crop circles, and finally returned to London in order to catch our flight back the next day to the United States. As we drove through the city, I noticed something strange about the "Tube" stations. They had been cordoned off with police barriers and there were people milling around everywhere. I learned later that the London had just been subjected to the July 21, 2005 terrorist attacks - four new synchronized bomb explosions in the Underground and one on a bus at around noon. Fortunately, the bombs were not as powerful, no one was hurt, and the suspected terrorists were arrested soon thereafter. But, to my point, we seemed to graze lightly past this double brush with mass murders in England.
Again, fast forward to July, 2016. Our next family trip was in France, this time. We flew to Paris, took a leisurely drive to a family wedding in the western part of France, drove to the southern coast, took a boat trip around Corsica, returned to southern France, and drove to Nice, where we had originally been scheduled to fly back to the United States on July 15. However, before we left, I had a bad feeling about the flight. We changed it to July 12. Again, we seem to have brushed against a weird synchronicity. On July 14, 2016, a 19-ton cargo truck driven by a terrorist plowed road barricades and into the crowds of more than 30,000 people celebrating Bastille Day along the famous Promenade des Anglais along the famous waterfront of Nice. Eighty-six people were killed and 458 were wounded in this truck attack. It was one of the worst terror attacks ever in France. Thank God we did not stay in Nice for those couple of extra days where, in all likelihood, we too would have been celebrating Bastille Day with the others on that boulevard. Again, it felt uncomfortably like another close shave with death and mass murder.
Fast forward to the present, I told my British psychic detective friend these stories in my email before leaving for Paris. I planned to return home for one week before flying out again to Las Vegas, Nevada, for the next three weeks. Thankfully, Paris was uneventful in terms of terrorism during my stay. However, during my flight back to the United States, on October 2, 2017, I learned that Las Vegas had just become - on that day - the site of the worst mass shooting in modern United States history! As of today, October 4, 2017, there are 59 dead and 527 wounded. The shootings were committed by a man from his room at the Mandalay Bay Hotel from the 32nd floor as he shot unsuspected concert-goers at an outdoor country western music festival below. This time, it seems the unprecedented historic mass murder occurred just before my visit. Although I did not have plans to stay at the Mandalay Bay Hotel, which I know well, I too have planned to stay on the famous Las Vegas Strip.
As a psychic detective, I tend to look at life differently from most people. I look for patterns in things that appear inconsequential or merely random to others. It is in these delicate, partially-formed patterns that new information about ourselves and our world emerges. My continuous brush with these historic events may be mere coincidence, but its recurrence over time begins to feel like something else is happening...
Sunday, September 3, 2017
|Equilateral triangle mark on hand 2015 (Photo A)|
|Equilateral triangle mark on ankle 2017 (Photo B)|
|Equilateral triangle mark on thigh 2017 (Photo C)|
|Eye-shaped mark on forearm 2017 (Photo D)|
In UFO lore, I have been aware of discussions about certain body marking associated with alien contact and abductions. Among these are triangle and diamond shapes, strange bruise marks (often in the shape of three fingers which are assumed to be the result of holding a person down by force), puncture wounds (I have even see these inside the mouth as well as all over the body), the famous "scoop" marks which result in a slight half-moon type of indentation as if a tissue sample had been taken, and so on. One of the more common markings is an equilateral triangle shape made of three points or possible puncture points. I have seen many of these online, and ufologist Richard Dolan has been quoted as saying these types of triangular marks are commonly reported by abductees and contactees. I have seen many posted online and they look extremely similar to mine.
I recently began to notice some strange marks on my body over the last few years and have been searching for answers. As far as I know, I have never been abducted, nor do I have any strange implants anywhere in my body.
In 2011, my daughter and I walked out of a local movie theatre at about midnight and witnessed a football field-sized "mothership" shaped like a giant boomerang. Thereafter, for about a year, we experienced frequent interruptions of our phone calls by strange electronic voices and noises.
In October, 2015, I published my first book on ufology entitled "How to Talk to an Alien" and have lectured frequently on the topic since then.
In November, 2015, I woke up with a tiny equilateral triangle made of three reddish dots on my left hand in between my index and middle fingers (see Photo A). I thought it was odd and had never had a mark like that before. The length of the sides was about 1/8 of an inch.
In 2017, around late April or early May, I found a strange equilateral triangle above my left knee made of three round dots (Photo B). I didn't think much about it. I took a photo of what was left of the markings in August. The length of the sides was about 3/8 of an inch.
In August, 2017, I found another slightly smaller equilateral triangle on left ankle. (Photo C).
Naturally I started looking for some - hopefully ordinary - explanations. I thought perhaps they might be spider bites. Yes, here in New Jersey, we get some fairly ordinary spiders in the house in the summertime. That would not explain the marks in November or April/May. I do have two cats, one of which goes outside. I thought it might be possible he carried in some spiders or insects with weird biting habits on his fur. However, he is medicated against fleas, ticks and other insects. Besides, I thought spiders only had two parallel fangs. A triangle (of all different sizes) just didn't make sense.
Then I read online that bedbugs can cause bites in the shape of triangles. I studied them online and they mostly didn't look like my bites. Bedbug bites seems to be more profuse, like red, bumpy rashes, and the bites were sloppy-looking, surrounded by rings or redness, pus or swelling, or little punctures in the centers of the bumps and not in separate perfect equilateral triangles - unlike my dots. I do not have any of the classic signs of bedbug infestation in my bed. Generally speaking, when bitten by any type of bug, I tend to have severe allergic reactions. They tend to be itchy, swollen, white at the centers, with red rings. Obviously my triangular markings have none of these symptoms. They do not itch and look rather "clean" - rather like three-prong points of a needle. It also seems unlikely that my dots are due to bedbug infestation because I've experienced these triangles for over two years and bedbug populations multiply at a rate of 400 per day, so after two years of unchecked population growth, I would likely be covered in bites all over my body by now!
|(Photos from a Canadian bedbug exterminator company called Green Heat)|
|Photo of markings left on a man who claimed to have experienced many alien abductions. See https://community.babycenter.com/post/a36461743/3_dot_triangle_markbite|
My next thought was to revert to alien markings. I began to wonder if perhaps the "eye" mark on my arm was created by some alien force using me as some kind of human canvas like a human crop circle to create an image with a message. Perhaps that message, coming on the heels of my decision to write this blog, was "We're watching you. We're watching what you write about this phenomenon."
Here's the kicker - I had to rewrite this entire blog again because the first one mysteriously erased itself.... Never happened before in my 9 years of blog writing.