Thursday, December 1, 2016
I discovered decades ago that I do some of my best psychic work while getting a massage. That's because I'm so relaxed that my thinking brain is turned off. It wasn't until the last few years that I discovered that the spirits of the deceased also seem to show up while I'm relaxing. The spirits often insist I deliver certain messages to my unsuspecting massage therapists (often from their relatives) while they are working on me. I frequently oblige the spirits and give the info, and the therapists react differently. Some are cool about it and others are shocked - one was so genuinely freaked out she actually made sure I could not be her client again!
Anyway, for the last two and a half years or so, I have kept the same massage therapist at the same salon in a local New Jersey strip mall not far from home. She doesn't mind when I give her psychic or spiritual information. It's usually pretty accurate.
The salon is set up with a long hallway and seven rooms. We have always been in rooms # 2, 3, or 4 (on both sides of the hallway near the front desk and waiting room). About two months ago, my therapist told me some of the massage therapists had discreetly exchanged stories among themselves of seeing a dark shadow figure of a small child darting around the empty corners of Rooms #1 and 2. She herself had been alone in one of those rooms and heard something roll and drop off the counter even though she wasn't near it, and it spooked her.
Shadow figures weren't the only odd phenomenon at this massage salon. At the very end of the long, dark hallway, the last room at the end, Room #7, reserved for couples massage and physical therapy, often had such a peculiar horrific stench that rendered it completely unusable. No one seemed to know the source of the odor. The foul smell seemed to arise from in between the walls and floor, and invade the entire space, sometimes pouring over into Room #6. Then it would disappear just as mysteriously. Most of the massage therapists instinctively avoided the room. We walked down there together and I was able to catch a whiff of it. It had the sickening smell of death.
I knew the place was haunted. I suggested we do a paranormal investigation one night after it had closed if my massage therapist could get her manager's permission. She liked the idea and said she would ask.
On Monday, November 21, 2016, I showed up for my massage and my therapist gave me the bad news. Her manager had denied permission to do an investigation.
"Why?" I asked.
"Because she doesn't want to stir up any paranormal activity," explained my therapist. "Besides, she says ghosts don't exist."
Huh? That didn't make any sense at all. I resigned myself to the fact that I would never be able to ever investigate this haunted massage salon.
My therapist led me down the long hallway to our little massage room. For the first time in two and a half years, my massage was in Room #6. We had never been in there before. As I lay face down on the heated table with my eyes closed facing the back wall, for the first half hour of my 90 minute massage, we chatted about family and the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday. I began to get into the zone. Then I think my therapist mentioned that it was a good thing our room didn't smell bad because some of the therapists had smelled that stench from Room #7 and this time it had the smell of gasoline. Well, suddenly something dawned on me.
"You know," I said, "I was having a psychic moment. I 'heard' the word 'blaze' in my mind a couple of minutes ago. I thought it was intended for the client I'm doing a reading for later today, but now I think it was meant for the ghost who is here!'
"What do you mean?" asked my therapist.
"I believe the spirit who is haunting this place died in a fire in the space next door where Room #7 is now. I think there was a 'blaze' - you know, like a big fire. Now, I'm thinking someone poured gasoline on it, which means it was set intentionally. And that means... this poor spirit was murdered!"
Holy shit. As I pondered my own strange revelation, with my face buried in the massage head rest and my eyes closed, I suddenly began to smell that strange odor as if it were slowly leaking through the wall from Room #7.
"Hey!" I said. "Do you smell that?"
"Do you smell that nasty smell from next door?"
"No, I don't smell it," said my therapist, who was standing at the end of the table working on massaging my feet. (Obviously, my feet don't smell either!)
"Well, I smell it. The spirit is in here right now!"
This was not the first time I had smelled a spirit. I had actually written about smelling a spirit in my book "Psychic Intuition." I explained the way you can tell the difference between a "real" smell and a "psychic" smell is by the way they travel. A psychic or spirit smell breaks all the rules of chemistry and physics regarding how odors appear, travel and dissipate. I explained that spirits manifest this way and need to be recognized by the living in order to move on. Sometimes they smell like sickeningly sweet rotten death.
I suddenly transitioned from massage client into full blown mediumship mode.
Speaking directly to the spirit, I said, "I know you are here with us. I want to talk to you and find out more about you. But for me to understand you better, I need you to do something for me. You see that light up on the wall? I want you to make it flicker when I ask you a question, but I only want you to make it flicker when you want to answer 'yes' to my question, okay?"
Then my therapist suddenly dropped both my feet unceremoniously on the table, "Oh my God, the light just flickered!"
She could see the light from her vantage point, whereas I could not. The light had not flickered at all for the half hour or so that we had been in the room up to that point. In fact, for the next half hour during this interrogation, the light flickered immediately without any delay in response to my questions just as if we were having a conversation. My therapist would shout out whether the light had blinked since I couldn't see it.
"Uh, okay, let's see, are you a man?" I asked. (The light didn't blink).
"Are you a woman?" (The light flickered immediately).
"Were you killed in a fire?" (The light flickered).
"Did the fire happen right here?" (The light flickered).
"Was the fire an accident?" (The light did not flicker).
"So, the fire was intentional?" (The light flickered).
"Did someone try to hurt you?" (The light flickered).
"Was it someone you knew?" (The light did not flicker).
"So, someone you didn't know, hurt you here by lighting the place on fire with gasoline?" (The light flickered).
"Was it a man?" (The light flickered).
"Were there more than just one man?" (The light did not flicker).
"Was it in the basement of the building?" (The light did not flicker).
"Was it upstairs on the first floor or second floor or upstairs?" (The light did not flicker).
I was momentarily stumped until my therapist wisely interjected that before the strip mall was built most of the property was probably still pasture land and fields. She suggested the fire may have actually taken place outside. I realized my mistake in assuming there had been a house on the property before the strip mall.
Based on another psychic hunch, I asked, "Was this fire in a barn?" (The light flickered).
Although one generally should avoid asking spirits about their own deaths since they are often unaware that they are dead, I decided to ask anyway.
"Did you die here in this fire?" (The light flickered).
Now I felt deeply saddened. I paused for a few moments but then continued my questioning.
"I'm going to ask you how old you are. But in order to get the answer, I will have to break it down into segments, so just flicker the lights when it applies to you, okay?" I said. "Are you 20 years old or younger?" (The lights flickered).
"Are you younger than 10 years old?" (The lights did not flicker).
"Are you 15 years old or younger?" (The lights flickered).
Yikes. This poor girl was just a very young teenager, between 11 and 15 years old, when she was murdered.
"Does anyone know you are here?" (The lights did not flicker).
"Does your family or any of your friends know what happened to you?" (The lights did not flicker).
"Okay, now I need to know when this happened to you. This is a little complicated, but I'm going to start listing the name of each decade starting with the year 1900 and I want you to flicker the lights when we come to the decade when this happened to you, okay? You ready? So, 1900." (The lights did not flicker).
"1910." (The lights did not flicker).
"1920." (The lights did not flicker).
"1930." (The lights did not flicker).
"1940." (The lights did not flicker).
"1950." (The lights flickered.)
"Okay, so it happened in the 1950's." (The lights flickered).
My therapist said, "You know, we could check this out in the historical town documents to see if there was a fire here in the 1950's..."
It was somewhere at about this point that I lost it emotionally. I was gripped with goosebumps and chills with the realization that I was talking directly to the spirit of a young teenage girl who had been murdered by a man in the 1950's who then set fire to a barn with gasoline on a property surrounded by fields and no one knew where to find her. She had been roaming the same location through the misty layers of time seeking help and recognition.
It was then that I knew, in no uncertain terms, that the skeleton of this poor child was situated directly below Room #7. I wanted to know her name, but knew it was no longer important. What was important was that she had finally been "seen" and "recognized" by me.
"You know, there's no reason for you to hang around here anymore," I said to her. "You need to go be with your family and friends now. If you follow the light, and I'm sure you can see the light now, don't be afraid, just follow it, and you will find everyone waiting for you. Your family will be there and God will be waiting for you. There is nothing left for you here. Go ahead now."
As soon as I finished saying this, according to my therapist, who had long since stopped massaging my feet with any enthusiasm, the light went back to normal. It completely stopped flickering, blinking or occasionally blazing with extra intense light. The foul odor also dissipated. I knew our gentle spirit had followed my advice. I knew it in my entire being.
This entire episode with the spirit probably lasted about 30 minutes. We continued on for the balance of my massage time, another half hour, in almost total stunned silence, broken only by my muffled sobs. This was odd for me, since I'm not really the kind of person who cries for stuff like this. For some reason, I felt like we were the first and only people who had actually grieved the loss of this little girl at what was the equivalent of her spiritual funeral.
"I have a feeling there won't be any more smell in Room #7 from now on," I said. "We need to document the timing of this... Don't you think there's something strange about the fact that we ended up in Room #6 today for the first time ever and your manager just told us we couldn't do a paranormal investigation?"
"Definitely," said my therapist.
"One more thing," I added without knowing why. "Can you please make sure someone puts a small piece of rose quartz in Room #7 as a kind of memorial to this spirit? They don't need to know the whole story."
Wednesday, November 16, 2016
The new movie "Arrival" was released by Paramount Pictures on 11/11 of this year. I knew about it in advance because several people had recognized that the story was remarkably similar to my own. Without giving away the story, I can tell you it is about a woman, Dr. Louise Banks (played by actress Amy Adams), a professor of Romance Languages, who is engaged by the military to try and decode the strange communications made by aliens who have suddenly landed in giant egg-shaped spacecraft in twelve locations around planet earth. She and fellow theoretical physicist, Ian Donnelly (played by actor Jeremy Renner), repeatedly enter the enormous spacecraft with other military officers and come face to face with weird, floating, octopus-like creatures that make odd rumbling noises and squirt circular ink-blot shapes into the atmospheric mist when communicating with the humans. Ultimately, Dr. Banks is able to decode much of the basic language. She also begins to understand that part of their "language" includes a psychic way of comprehending the nature of time and that allows her to see forwards and backwards in time. As the United States and other foreign nations struggle simultaneously to understand the meaning of the aliens' sudden command that they "offer weapon" to the other nations - the world verges on war with the aliens. The solution exists in the meaning of those two specific words. "Weapon" turns out to mean the alien language itself and not an armament. I will not give away the ending. Go see it. It's a great movie.
For those of you who don't already know, I have written a book entitled "How to Talk to an Alien" (New Page Books, 2015) and have lectured around the country on the topic of alien communication. I have called this new field within ufology "Exolinguistics" and I have proposed a new method of attempting to crack the code of various alien languages (yes, I have established there are many spoken and written alien languages). This method involves creating a kind of "Rosetta Stone" comparing 1) actual alien artifacts, 2)recollections of writing/symbols/sounds and 3) channeled, dreamed or automatic writing/speech samples. This has already yielded interesting results. I am in the process of setting up a worldwide database of alien speech and written communications. This has become my passion. I have been invited as a guest on several radio shows because people immediately recognized the similarities between my work on alien communication and the subject matter of this movie.
The number of similarities between myself and Dr. Banks went beyond the obvious superficial one that we are both linguists attempting to decode alien language.
- Romance Languages. In the movie, Dr. Banks is a professor of Romance Languages. I majored in Romance Languages in college and was awarded best thesis prize in the department. I have also studied German and Thai languages. She also studied Chinese.
- Residence. In the movie, Dr. Banks lives in a house with a living room overlooking a large lake and there is a telescope looking out over the lake. I live in a house on a lake and have a telescope in my living room looking out over the lake.
- Recorded Alien Speech. In the movie, the military intelligence officer Colonel Weber (played by actor Forest Whitaker) plays a recording of alien speech sounds to Dr. Banks and asks her to translate it. I have received many telephone call interruptions from what I can only assume are aliens and have listened to recordings made by others of alleged alien speech recordings.
- Physicists and Intelligence Officers. In the movie, Dr. Banks works with a theoretical physicist, Ian Donnelly, and other intelligence officers. In my book, I talk about well-known theoretical physicist Dr. Jack Sarfatti, with whom I maintain contact, who also received phone calls from aliens or what he assumes was some kind of alien artificial intelligence from the future, and know many people in the intelligence world who are extremely interested in this topic.
- 11/11. The movie was released on 11/11 of this year. In my previous book, "Psychic Intuition: Everything You Ever Wanted to Ask But Were Afraid to Know" (New Page Books, 2012), I devoted a section of a chapter on the relationship between autistic savantism and psychic ability to a discussion of my own personal experience with the number 11/11. I strangely and for no obvious reason began seeing this number everywhere I looked at random moments starting in May 2006 and this phenomenon has continued daily for more than a decade. I have analyzed it from a number of standpoints but still do not fully understand its significance. It has since become a worldwide phenomenon known as the "11:11 Time Prompt" and is experienced by many, many people. The number eleven is known in numerology as being the "master number" for spirituality.
- Connection to Amy Adams. In the movie, Amy Adams is the main star. It turns out our paths have crossed before. DreamWorks producer Steven Spielberg picked my daughter Celine to play herself (Celine du Tertre) as a little girl meeting actor Leonardo DiCaprio (playing real life con man Frank Abagnale Jr.) in the 2002 blockbuster movie "Catch Me if You Can" and Amy Adams to play his girlfriend. (Prior to that, Spielberg had selected my daughter to play an alien hybrid in "Taken.")
And then there are some strange inexplicable seemingly paranormal events tied to this movie beyond the merely synchronistic events...
I was invited by Paramount Pictures, the studio that released "Arrival," to come to New York for a pre-screening of the movie several days before its actual release date. Several days later I spoke with a friend of mine who saw the movie after it was in the movie theatres. She made an offhand comment, something about wasn't is interesting about the fact that the alien space ships landed in twelve locations and that 144,000 might be saved. I laughed and agreed with her. I told her I was surprised she picked that up. I recalled the very subtle line in the movie delivered by, I thought, Col. Weber, while in the military bunker, about how only 144,000 people would be saved. I recalled thinking at the time that the Biblical reference to Revelations 6:7 and the 144,000 people that would be "sealed" and "saved" from the 12 Jewish tribes would be too subtle for most movie-goers to digest.
Anyway, I quickly forgot about my friend's intelligent observation. I saw the movie for a second time the following night in a movie theatre. The following day, I was folding laundry when it suddenly occurred to me in a terrible flash that the second time I saw the movie there was absolutely no reference to the 144,000 people. That line was gone. Missing. Poof! That couldn't be correct, I thought. I had distinctly heard it with my own ears, the line recited in the movie in NYC, the first time I saw the movie. I immediately called up my friend.
"Remember what you said about the line in the movie about the 144,000 people?" I asked her.
She immediately responded, "Oh, that wasn't in the movie. I was just making an allusion..."
"Yes it was in the movie!" I insisted, almost shouting. "It absolutely was in the movie the first time. I heard it with my own ears. I know who said it. I know when it was said. But it was gone the second time I saw the movie. That's impossible!"
And so, I am deeply troubled. I know what I heard. And I am sure there is a reason why I heard something that apparently does not exist in "reality." I believe it has something to do with the future of our planet, when aliens will arrive in their craft, and only certain numbers of individuals from the human race - hopefully more than 144,000 - will be "saved" or "transported" to a different planet. But obviously, for now, I cannot confirm this interpretation. Like Dr. Louise Banks in the movie, I "hear" things and "dream" things that seem to be jumbled up in the sea of time where it is difficult to judge whether you are moving forwards or backwards in history.
Finally, another strange synchronicity occurred. I was talking to a contactee who has been writing in some kind of unusual, possibly alien, language for many years. I had originally been a guest on his radio show and when he had asked me to analyze his alien language while on air, the show was abruptly shut down. All internet was cut to my home. We could not re-contact each other. That was odd to start with. Since then I have examined his alien language, which resembles ancient Sumerian in some respects, and we have maintained contact. In our texts, I asked him to try and find meaning in his writings. He said he was sure the alien language was very condensed and compact in the way it communicated meaning. Then he gave me a little example that nearly knocked my socks off.
"But strangely enough now that I'm concentrating on it," he said, "an example would be: 'Carry conceal permit' would be translated as 'Permission/weapon'"
He has not seen the movie "Arrival" yet and didn't even know the plot. His apparently "random" choice to show me an alien language translation of "Permission weapon" blew me away. It sounds just like the alien command that is at the heart of the alien language issue that nearly ignites world war in the movie: "Offer weapon."
When I told him how many people had spontaneously told me they thought this movie was about me, he laughed and said, "It IS about you!" Who knows. Time will tell.
Saturday, September 10, 2016
Like most thoughts that come from dreams, they are often best told in the strange unfolding of imagery that seems to bear little or no relation to chronology. It occurred to me, as one of those intangible "thoughts" that lie between the layers of "real" thoughts, that the battle over the name of "ISIS" holds a mystery that has a hook deep into our collective consciousness. ISIS is the common name for the terrorist jihadist militant group that follows a fundamentalist Wahhabi doctrine of Sunni Islam and intends to build a "state" under this repressive and violent religion. It generally goes by the name of the "Islamic State of Iraq and Syria" (so-dubbed by most American media). However, American government officials have - strangely, in my opinion, and stubbornly - continued to refer to this group as "ISIL" for the "Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant." I have often wondered why. I have even queried some in the government who might know - and never received a satisfactory answer. And so I meditated on the answer and found it in my dreams.
Isis is one of the most revered and important of all the ancient Egyptian goddesses. She became known as the goddess of knowledge, magic, healing, fertility and protector of the dead. She was a role model for all women and the first female deity to achieve parity with male gods. In fact, her name is the Greek word for an ancient Egyptian word for "throne." The cow horns and sun orb ornament on her head create the symbol for the word "throne." She was worshipped from England to Afghanistan, and by many pagan worshippers.
Isn't ironic that this jihadist terrorist group "ISIS" has usurped the name of the most important goddess of Middle Eastern antiquity? At least - and let's me clear here - we Americans have chosen to call this group "ISIS." Most Europeans refer to it by its Arabic acronym "Daesh." The ironies are multiple. First, this group - let's call it Daesh - believes in the most violent repression of women and girls of any group on this planet. Isis was the goddess of women. Second, the United States, while it claims to fight Daesh, has "inadvertently" sided with it and other rebels in Syria. This may explain our "schizophrenic" approach to using the names "ISIS" and "ISIL."
Ultimately, it occurred to me, looking into our future, is that we will do unto the name of the goddess Isis what we did to the symbol of the swastika after its similar strange political perversion in Hitler's Germany in World War II. Today, it is illegal in many countries to use the swastika as a symbol because its association with Hitler, the Nazi party, and the extermination of six million Jews and others, is so intense. Like the symbol of the goddess Isis, the swastika was originally used - for many thousands of years - as a peaceful religious symbol. It comes from the Sanskrit word meaning "luck" or "well-being." This equilateral cross with four bent legs swirling, like the energy of kundalini, either in a clockwise fashion portending evolution or counter-clockwise portending "involution" or collapse.
Swastikas were widely used by various Indian religious groups like Hindus, Buddhists and Jainists back to the 2nd century BCE, also by Native American groups and others around the world, going back to the Bronze Age, 13,000 BCE. The point is, the symbol has a very long history of peace, religion and magic - like Isis - and it only took one madman and his political group about ten years to steal the symbol, to try and steal its power for himself, and thus destroy it for future humanity. We are, unwittingly perhaps, in the process of doing the same thing with the name of the goddess Isis.
|Bull with wings symbol of Lords|
of the Black Stone
|View of Untersberg Mountain from Hitler's home|
Bottom line, Hitler spent more time at his home in Berghof than Berlin. He, like the Templars before him, was waiting for a sign from the goddess Isais at Untersberg Mountain. He was waiting for the alleged Biblical event described in Matthew 21:43 where God would take the kingdom away from the Jews and give it to the Teutonic (Aryan) peoples. This would happen at a cosmic moment defined by a ray of the "Black Sun" hitting the location determined to be the Untersberg Mountain.
The link between the swastika and Isis cemented.
But there was more, as my mind seemed to have foreseen before I had the knowledge. One of the main purposes of the occult group, The Lords of the Black Stone, seems to have been to locate the Holy Grail for the Aryan race.
Most people are taught that the Holy Grail is the legendary chalice out of which Christ drank during the Last Supper that mysteriously disappeared afterwards. Others have suggested the Holy Grail may have been more of a metaphor, suggesting it may have even been Christ's own female child by Mary Magdalene who was brought to southern France, and venerated by the Knights Templar and kept secret by those of the Cathar religion. Pope Innocent III initiated a 20-year military campaign to wipe out the gnostic-based Cathars which has been called a mass murder and genocide. Still others have suggested it is a black crystal that was smuggled out of southern France by four Cathar women in 1244 and, as legend goes, would be returned to its rightful owners 700 years later. The history of the Holy Grail is infused with a history of women - which is interesting since a "cup" is a "yin" or feminine symbol.
Interestingly, the word "Grail" comes from the Persian-Arabic word "Ghral," according to one commentator I read, which means "holy stone." This stone was said to be a black-violet crystal, half quartz and half amethyst, through which Higher Powers or deities could communicate with humanity. Let's suppose these Teutonic occult groups are looking for a magical black stone that communicates with the daughter of the goddess Isis.
Perhaps this stone has been hiding in plain sight.
In my considerable ignorance, I was not aware that the reason why Muslims are required at least once in their lifetime to visit Mecca, Saudi Arabia, considered the most holy site for the faith, where thousands of Islamic pilgrims are seen annually walking counter-clockwise around a large square box in the center of a huge plaza during the hajj, is to pay homage to the Black Stone. I was not aware that in the eastern cornerstone of that large square structure, an ancient structure known as the Kaaba, at the center of this swirling mass of humanity there is a silver frame containing the smooth, polished, fragmentary remains of the Black Stone. The job of the pilgrim is try and kiss the stone, or, that failing, to point one's finger in its direction.
The Black Stone was worshiped in pre-Islamic pagan times and according to Islamic tradition was placed in the Kaaba wall by the Prophet Muhammad in 605 A.D. According to the Islamic faith, this stone fell from the heavens as a guide for Adam and Eve to build an altar. This gave rise to many theories that the stone was a black meteorite, although current scientists have suggested it probably isn't. I find it interesting, as one commentator aptly pointed out, that the silver casing for the Black Stone, looks distinctly like female genitalia. Additionally, the energy generated by this human religious swarm is counter-clockwise, like the Nazi swastika, which tends toward involution.
The Black Stone brings us back to the Islamic world, and by its unfortunate association, to ISIS and the Islamic terrorist movement in the Middle East. In this strange circular journey of historical links and coincidences, it feels as if there is almost a cosmic pull toward a connection between the rise of Naziism and the rise of ISIS. Like the Nazis, ISIS states that one of its goals is to kill Jews. How ironic! It is as if they have both taken some of the symbols most precious to humanity and absconded with them, attempting to steal their supernatural symbolic powers as sigils, and abuse them until they lose their value for the rest of us.
The Black Stone, the goddess Isis and the ancient swastika symbol are all symbols that belong to humanity, to women, and to some of our greatest religions, including paganism. We should never allow these symbols to be stolen for political purposes.
POST SCRIPT: As with many things that occur to me "out of order" chronologically, I wrote this post today - September 26, 2016 - and yet my computer has insisted on labeling it as having been entered on September 10, 2016. I seem to have somehow manifested the reality of the first opening sentence of this blog: "[l]ike most thoughts that come from dreams, they are often best told in the strange unfolding of imagery that seems to bear little or no relation to chronology."
I am trained in several type of remote viewing techniques, including military-style Controlled Remote Viewing ("CRV") and Associative Remote Viewing ("ARV"). These are what I have called applications of clairvoyance using certain defined protocols. These protocols are all different systems that enable the remote viewers, as well as their monitors and judges of the sessions, to apply uniform standards to the psychic imagery which generally applies to places or events in distant locations or distant time zones, such as the future.
ARV is interesting because it helps the viewer to relax a bit and takes the pressure off because the viewer doesn't need to find the "right" answer to the ultimate question, but only the imagery associated with one out of two photos which ultimately will represent the right answer. The photos are usually randomly picked. They are randomly associated with possible answers (usually a binary system of up or down, winning or losing, right or wrong). A photo of a flower may represent a "win" and a photo of a boat may represent a "lose" if the question (never told to the remote viewers) is: Will the Red Sox win the World Series this year?
I recently joined the ARV group called Applied Precognition Project founded by computational physicist Marty Rosenblatt, who has worked in the past developing computer simulation games and outcomes for organizations like the Department of Defense and NASA, and have a worked on a number of ARV taskings. Marty was quoted in an interview in the "Eight Martini's Magazine" (issue 12, January, 2015) as saying he liked ARV because of "the clarity it provides in defining a Hit versus a Miss." He is a big believer in making sure viewers get feedback on their viewing so they can learn from their mistakes as well as their successes.
Under Marty's ARV system, viewers are also invited to judge their own transcripts. A numerical scoring system is used to see how well our psychic images match the feedback photos (A and B) that are later randomly assigned to each of our two transcript numbers. Sometimes our descriptions and drawings are a good match (a "Hit"), sometimes they don't match at all (a "Miss") and sometimes the descriptions of both photos are equally good or equally bad - in which case it is a wash and doesn't count (a "Pass"). All of the group's hits and misses are tallied up at the end of the day. Marty then places a bet on the group's collective choice. In our case, it is whether certain international currencies will go up or down that day.
I recently had a result I had never experienced before - nor had I ever seen anyone else produce this kind of result. It was apparently quite unusual. I brought it to Marty's attention. He felt it was interesting enough to bring up for discussion in his Webinar. I had described and sketched my two transcripts. They looked very different to me. I thought I was describing two different photographs (Photos A and B). After I submitted them online, I was able to see the two photos that were assigned one to each transcript. For scoring purposes, I was presented with a little four-box grid. My job was to assign a numerical value to each photo for each transcript.
Here was the problem: Instead of describing each of the two photos, my transcripts described the same exact photo! They both described Photo A. Photo A turned out to be a photo of Stonehenge (see actual photo at the top of this page). They were both quite good descriptions and so I scored them both quite high. I assigned them each a score of "6" out of the Targ 7-point confidence ranking system. Transcript 756355 describes and sketches a series of choppy land masses in the "forefront" of a golden, warm, glowing sun on the left hand side. Transcript 880514 shows a tall, stone, carved, gravestone pointing upward, a "monument" with a "national feeling" and perhaps "an angel on a gravestone?" (compare to the actual photo image with a lady standing on top of Stonehenge). Strangely, neither transcript described Photo B at all which turned out to be a picture of a pink rose. Consequently, I assigned "0" for both transcripts for Photo B.
Here are the two transcripts I described and drew, for those of you who might be interested:
Because my brain only focused on one photograph, the scoring came out very strange. I was forced to take a "Pass" because the "6" for Transcript 1 washed out the "6" for Transcript 2. I couldn't say which Transcript represented Photo A. That was a problem. This is very unusual. Again, this is a situation that probably hasn't come up much at all in WE ARV discussions - if ever! Take a look at my little diagram below showing two boxes. The top box shows why I had to pass with equal scorings for Photo A. I call that a "Vertical Pass." The bottom box shows why people normally pass with equal scorings for Photo A and Photo B. I call that a "Horizontal Pass." That just means your psychic brain captured the data equally well or equally poorly for both photos.
Although my brain correctly focused on accurately describing the "feedback target" which was the imagery in Photo A, my brain also seems to have (without my permission) focused on the ultimate correct winning photo (which was Photo A). We learned the day after our scores were submitted that Photo A (the picture of Stonehenge), which had been pre-selected to represent an uptick in the financial market in the future, accurately corresponded with a real uptick in the financial market. It was a real "winning" photo in the end.
Normally, your job is only to describe each photo choice, not the ultimate photo that will represent the winning answer in reality. Unfortunately for me, I did both. My brain apparently also wanted to play "leap frog" and go directly to the winning answer, and only allowed me to describe the one photo (Photo A) that would win. Unfortunately, not only for me, but also for the overall scoring for our group, I was forced to pass. My concern is that this unusual problem of what I am calling a "Vertical Pass" results in some problems in the WE ARV system.
First of all, this has the effect of penalizing the remote viewer in terms of feedback. Let's face it! It is not easy to look at a piece of paper with a number written on it and then try to "imagine" or sketch the photo it will represent in the future! As remote viewers, we all operate with a delicate psyche. Even small amounts of negativity in this realm can have devastating effects on our future ability to remote view. This is a delicate art/science of prediction. In this situation, I was forced to pass, even though I had succeeded in the goal of producing one highly accurate transcript (as well as a second one too) which also happened to turn out to be the winning answer. I was thus compelled to stay out of the game (a kind of negative feedback for me) even though I had not done anything "wrong" in terms of viewing the target. If this kind of pass is not corrected, it may lead to other viewers receiving inappropriate negative feedback.
Second, I believe this unusual kind of a pass may result in tilting the scoreboard the wrong way for the group bet. The WE ARV system is geared toward the ultimate practical application of remote viewing by using the binary selection to make a binary choice in the real world (sports bet, financial market, simple predictions). My transcripts could not be added to the group selection because a "pass" doesn't count. If the majority of the other viewers had scored in favor Photo A, then my pass wouldn't have made a difference in the bet. But let's suppose, there was a "tie" in the overall group, then my choice of Photo A would have tipped the balance toward the correct bet. Or, let's suppose several of the viewers began to have Vertical Pass issues. If several were correct, then the failure to include them could theoretically lead to a wrong bet. In the world of mathematical precision and probabilities, even these seemingly tiny or unusual anomalies need to be taken into consideration if we are to come up with good statistical models for betting. The problem of the Vertical Pass could represent a very tiny but annoying bug in the system.
POST SCRIPT: I have since had some interesting discussions with Marty about his ARV system and some of the issues I described above. As I discovered, he actually likes my term "vertical pass" to describe this particular problem which - as it turns out - is a kind of psychic override of his binary choice ARV system and throws a wrench in it. I accurately viewed too far into the future! I foresaw the "winning" outcome photo, not the "winning" feedback photo prior to the actual event occurrence. However, this vertical pass does not interfere with his voting system. I erroneously believed that Photo A in both transcript #1 and #2 represented, in his system, an uptick. Turns out, Photo A will be an uptick for transcript #1 and Photo B will be the uptick for transcript #2. That may sound complicated, but it solves the problem of the Vertical Pass issue I have raised! It means that if your psyche believes the currency exchange will go up, you will select Photo A the first time and Photo B the second time, and either way, your choice will be the winner!
Wednesday, June 1, 2016
I bought a tiny necklace about a year ago. It was a small ugly greenish-black stone that was pitted and pocked like a dried prune and strung on a leather string. I had heard this stone, called moldavite, had interesting properties, but knew nothing about it. As someone who has always loved geology and studied rocks, this seemed mildly interesting.
In November, 2015,I traveled to Las Vegas to attend an aerospace convention and to do some interviews to promote my new book "How To Talk to an Alien." On the third day, right before an hour-long radio interview which preceded another hour-long internet TV show formerly on PBS called "New Thinking Allowed" with Jeff Mishlove, I was suddenly struck with the most intense vertigo and nausea I've ever experienced in my life. (Coincidentally or not, Jeff's YouTube channel was suddenly and inexplicably taken offline that evening as were all the email accounts of the Las Vegas another radio show host who I was supposed to meet that day). Anyway, I thought I was literally dying. I wasn't sure how I was going to complete my interviews let alone sound coherent. Somehow, I steeled myself, with the room spinning violently around me, my heart palpitating, hands sweating, and I completed the final interview in the studio, before dragging myself off to bed, and then finally ended up in the emergency room of the hospital which extended into three days of testing. The vertigo finally stopped. They speculated it might have been a heart attack but weren't sure. It was strange. Upon returning to my room, I looked for the little moldavite necklace which I had carefully removed from the safe, figuring it was too ugly for anyone to steal, and hidden under my baseball cap. It was nowhere to be found. I looked everywhere. I tripled checked all the suitcases. It was gone. I called the hotel. No one had reported it.
I am not in the habit of losing things. It bothered me that this little moldavite necklace had disappeared. Months dragged on and it still bugged me. I decided to look online to research moldavite. I ran across some obscure chat rooms where people were talking about their experiences with moldavite and to my shock and surprise many of them spoke about their moldavite disappearing! Apparently, it is a well-known property of moldavite to disappear from its owner. It never occurred to me that a rock could disappear by its own volition. There are many theories about why and how it does this. Some say it returns to its origins in native Czech Republic, the region of Bohemia and Moravia, where an asteroid smashed into the earth 14.8 million years ago, vitrifying the surrounding earth minerals in the collision, creating this unique tektite found no where else on earth. Moldavite is said to be a transformational crystal. It is said to understand the two universes of terrestrial and extraterrestrial life because it was indeed formed from them both - a "hybrid" in the truest sense of the word. It is said to be one of the most intensely vibrational crystals of all crystals and comes with warnings that wearers should temper it with other crystals to "ground" its intensity. It is said to open the heart, third eye and crown chakras. In fact, it is known historically as the legendary "Philosopher's Stone" and also the green "emerald" that fell from Lucifer's crown or forehead as he fell from heaven that was placed in the Holy Grail itself. Archeologists have discovered talismans with moldavite over 25,000 years old. The history of this strange and highly unusual crystal, that doesn't even look like a crystal, is unique.
And so, I resigned myself to the strange idea that my moldavite had voluntarily disappeared by itself. I had read that sometimes it returned to its owner in time. I worried that perhaps I had offended it by referring to it as an ugly old prune. Perhaps if I thought nice thoughts about it, it might consider coming back to me.
In April, 2016, I was invited to go on a paranormal investigation in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. I asked one of the mediums on the team, who said she knew a lot about crystals, if she had ever heard anything about moldavite disappearing. Oh yeah! She said I needed to surround it with three other crystals so it wouldn't go running off. As we were near a crystal shop, I bought all three in hopes it might come home to roost.
One month later, I decided to attend my college reunions. I brought along my son William who is still in high school. I remembered a tiny little gem shop called "Tomorrow's Heirlooms" I had once visited about four years earlier and decided to take my son there because the owner, John Miller, a sort of talkative Indiana Jones type of geologist whose shop was loaded with unusual crystals and jewelry, had a huge fossil of a femur bone of T-Rex dinosaur. We entered the shop and the owner was still there. He showed us the fossil.
John said, "Now, I'd love to show you a particularly special necklace. It was best in show. It's up there in front of you on the second shelf."
I looked up and instantly recognized what it was. It was one of the most amazing necklaces I've ever seen. It was a giant bib, about 6" long, loaded with more moldavite than I've ever seen in my life interspersed with huge heavy chunks of silvery meteorite. I was absolutely speechless. I had never mentioned a word about moldavite to him. In fact, I was literally just about to ask him whether he had ever heard any stories of moldavite disappearing.
To my great surprise, this serious geologist, said matter-of-factly, "Of course! Moldavite disappears in order to remove negativity. It disappears because it is a stone of protection."
I laughed and said, "Well, if I buy this necklace - and I think I have to - I don't think this moldavite will ever disappear because it's so grounded with all this meteorite!"
The shop owner said, "Probably not. Unless you're about to be killed."
That sounded reasonable enough to me. So I bought the necklace.
We talked a bit more. John said, "You know it's funny you talk about things like moldavite disappearing. Someone just showed me a blog on the internet where someone wrote about my shop having the quality of disappearing and reappearing."
I said, "That was me. You just saw that recently? I wrote that blog about three or four years ago! And yes, you have a magical shop. It has some unusual characteristics." (http://skepticalpsychicblog.blogspot.com/2013_05_01_archive.html )
"Yes, I've been told that," John said with surprising seriousness.
How peculiar that his path and mine seem to have had such strange intersections, I thought. I went home that night, thinking about everything he had said, and then somewhere around 3:00 AM in the morning, it occurred to me that my tiny little dried prune moldavite necklace had probably disappeared because I had spent three days in the Las Vegas hospital with severe vertigo. So it was protecting me. I finally understand and now I could at last release it from my mind.
The next morning, six months after I had lost my necklace, I got up and got dressed to go to a Memorial Day barbeque with friend. When I opened my jewelry chest, something fell out of the drawer and hit the ground. It was, to my amazement, my little dried prune moldavite necklace. I quickly popped it into a silk bag with the three grounding crystals so it wouldn't go wandering off by itself again.
Tuesday, April 19, 2016
I was never a big science fiction fan. But now that I have begun to discover that many of the top physicists, astronomers, scientists and government intelligence folks are - strangely, at least in my view - big science fiction fans. I decided to see what all the fuss is about. It reminded me of when I learned the senior partner in my old law firm was a serious chess player. I didn't understand (at the time) why a lawyer would be so interested in chess, but I decided to study the game by reading chess books. I learned that chess, like litigation, is war. Today, I heard a presentation by Garry Kasparov, the Russian chess Grandmaster and former World Chess Champion, considered by many to be the greatest chess player of all time. Was he talking about chess? Not at all. He was talking about politics and war.
It occurred to me that I should start to read science fiction classics for the same reason. They might provide a clue as to scientific and military "strategies" of our day. This thought solidified in my mind after a recent visit with my son to the USS Nautilus (SSN 571), the first nuclear-powered submarine, launched in 1954. The name "Nautilus" is, in fact, a nod to the renowned French science fiction author Jules Verne whose protagonist, Captain Nemo, commanded a submarine named in Nautilus in his book "Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea." In 1870, when the book was published, there were only a tiny handful of primitive and experimental submarines in existence. Verne's science "fiction" became a science "reality" in the span of only two generations.
Time travel has always been a mainstay of science fiction. Is time travel already part of our "reality"? If you plunge deeply into the various accounts available in the field of ufology about the American secret military exploration into time travel, you will find bizarre and seemingly unbelievable assertions made by occasional whistleblowers (it's always difficult to know if they are brave or merely disinfo plants). I once interviewed a lawyer named Andrew Basiago who claimed to have been part of a secret military program as a child and was able to time travel (Project Pegasus) by walking into certain military installations on the East Coast and exiting moments later on the West Coast. Others made similar assertions. There are the astounding claims made by the military microbiologist Dr. Dan Burisch about a time travel machine utilizing secret extraterrestrial technologies at Area 51 near Las Vegas (Project Looking Glass). And, of course, there are the famous stories of the Philadelphia Experiment and the Montauk Chair, both allegedly efforts by secret military programs to explore time travel with limited success according to people I know. Have we actually verified physicist Hugh Everett's 1950's theory of a multiverse? I know physicists today who claim to have found the quantum explanation for retrocausality in which the future interacts with and creates the past. Have we found real "Stargates" and worm holes on planet earth? Did the rocket scientist Jack Parsons, who founded the Jet Propulsion Laboratory, actually open an inter-dimensional portal in California?
If our secret military and government has found the key to what we all still believe is just science fiction - namely time travel - then they have found the ultimate weapon. He who controls the course of history, controls the world. Imagine you could change the outcome of World War II. You could undo Hiroshima. You could plant spies in the places where they were needed. Ah yes, chess and war.
But where are the clues? A year ago I experienced a very funky glitch in time. While taking my normal two mile walk around the lake near my home, I fell on the sidewalk. My shoe got caught in a large crevice in the pavement at the top of a small hill and down I went. Aside from a bloody knee and bruised pride, I was fine. I continued to do my almost daily walk around the lake. Each time I carefully avoided the crevice at the top of the hill. It became a ritual. Then one day, I did my walk around the lake and when I came to the place where the crevice should have been, it was gone! Strangely, the sidewalk was perfectly paved over. I tripled checked just to be sure my eyes weren't playing tricks on me. In fact, the entire sidewalk seemed strangely smooth. The only cracks in the pavement were at the very bottom of the hill. I thought to myself: This is wonderful. The town must have finally gotten around to repaving the stupid sidewalk. A couple of days later, I walked around the lake again. However, this time I was shocked to discover the crevice was back. All the cracks in the pavement were back. It was as if time undid itself. Or I had reverted to present time again. I felt slightly insane.
I am not the only person to have had this odd sensation. Famous UFO contactee Whitley Strieber described his drive down Route 17 in Northern New Jersey that suddenly transformed itself into an entirely unknown landscape before reverting to its normal scenery. I have many friends and colleagues who have described being suddenly transported into different time zones. One friend who was visiting Russia suddenly found herself, as she looked out the window of her train, looking at a battlefield landscape with fallen soldiers. Another friend, took a train from Westchester to New York City, and was shocked to find herself looking at a landscape filled with dinosaurs! Yet another friend has received emails and photos from himself, properly time-stamped, about 10 years in the future. He is baffled by them. Many of my paranormal investigator friends who have visited Gettysburg have seen soldiers marching, heard horses hooves clattering with carriage wheels, spoken with men dressed in Confederate uniforms. Even I once heard a canon boom across the deserted battlefield and at night, during a stay in a haunted inn once used as a makeshift Civil War infirmary, was awoken by a horrific screeching noise that I was able to later positively identify as a Confederate rebel call. My point is: our present time is often interrupted when we are suddenly dropped in the past somewhere. Is this because time has been altered by someone and an adjustment is being made?
I have never lost time, as many UFO abductees claim. But I have gained time. And time has played tricks. Once I was emailing with a friend who was visiting Mexico. She had gone shopping and sent me a bunch of photos of jewelry. She offered to buy whatever I liked since she could get a good price. We emailed back and forth for a while, but before I was able to select the necklace I wanted, I had to do a one hour private reading for a client at 8 PM. At 9 PM, I resumed the emailing and told my friend which necklace I wanted. I didn't think anything about this interaction until several months later when I looked carefully at our email thread. Amazingly, while my friend's emails were chronologically time-stamped with the earliest ones (starting about 5 PM) at the bottom of the email thread and the latest ones on top (this is the normal way email threads are displayed), mine were the opposite! It was as if I was going backwards in time! Her emails went forward in time and mine went backward in time! It was the strangest thing! I brought this to the attention of many IT professionals but no one was ever able to solve this mystery for me.
I think time has been altered. We have tiny clues in our daily life. As a friend of mine, a highly placed FAA security official, said to me recently: Imagine that you could fiddle around with time and change history, and yet it could only be done in between the tiniest moments of consciousness. It would be kind of like a security camera that only takes a photo every 10 seconds. You think you are looking at a fluid chronological reality, but you aren't. Think of all the reality changes you could make during each of those unseen, un-photographed 10 second intervals. You could change everything. And you would never know what happened...
Or just read the science fiction story "VALIS" (Vast Active Living Intelligence System) by Philip K. Dick. An intriguing story of time interweaving past, present and future intrusions on the protagonist, Horselover Fat a/k/a Philip K. Dick. Fat suddenly assumes the personality of an ancient historical personage and speaks perfect koine Greek (of which he has no prior knowledge), and at other points, seems to be mind-melded with three-eyed telepathic extraterrestrials who are likely just his future human self. At what point in time does fiction become reality?