We are just a group of retired spooks that discuss things that you’ll not find anywhere else. It makes us unique. Take a look around. Learn a thing or two.
I dredged it up from obscurity, and I think that it would be useful for you all to reread a MM classic for a change. I’ve devoted a few years of “junk and stuff” to help get youse guys mind off the crazy town. So now enjoy this one.
I am sorry that I have been a little slow in releasing these particular kinds of articles, but you know it isn’t everyday where you are located in the middle of ground-zero for World War III. So I’ve been a little side-tracked, don’t you know.
Anyways…
Anyways, as far as this particular MAJestic post is concerned, please keep in mind the limitations that I have regarding the dissemination of information.
While I just cannot divulge any secrets, some of what I CAN discharge has to do with things that are not of a technical interest. Such as history, culture, society, and "the bigger picture".
My role (as was Sebastian's) enabled us some very exclusive access to "understandings".
Nothing that was really of a functional interest to MAJestic specifically. Just general odds and ends and curiosities. And one of these "tidbits" is how our planet in our solar system became populated with life.
This kind of information is not “secret”, “confidential” or “restricted”. It is considered to be an unimportant curiosity that does not matter in the grand scheme of things.
And this is the subject for today. It is a little history lesson.
We are going to talk about what the earth was like when the first organisms started to grow upon the earth. As well as the kinds of attention that this evolutionary process generated in the civilizations that were present at the time (elsewhere in the galaxy).
Ah. You all know that I have a particular interest in history, don’t you?
What I am going to present here is a mix of [1] what I have been exposed to, and I place it all [2] in context to what our present scientists (“experts”) believe. Combined, the two points of view can give the interested reader some real valuable insight into this rarer bit of obscure knowledge about the earth’s history. I also mention [3] some elements of life within the physical that many humans are unaware of, perhaps being alien to the Newtonian understanding of physics.
We are going to talk about about the Ediacaran Period.
This was a long, long, LONG time ago. Around 630 million years ago. Just about the time when the solar system was starting to become interesting to other species within our galaxy.
In comparison, the human species is only around 400,000 years old, and of that most of the time we were all very primitive. In fact the written history is only around 5,000 years old. We are very youthful. Here we talk about the time long before dinosaurs, flies, insects, fishes and trees. We are talking about the time when there wasn't a moon.
That is correct. 630,000,000 years ago the Earth had no moon.
I cover this subject elsewhere.
The earliest extraterrestrial humanoid (Physically-animated bipedal entities that utilize technology to visit the Earth) visitation known (to me personally) to our solar system occurred during the Ediacaran period (630 million years ago).
FYI: This is not “official” MAJestic knowledge. (This information is tangential to our roles and are personal observations that were debriefed, but not relative to our mission parameters. ) In general it is considered to be extemporaneous, non-mission critical information.
The base age of approximately 635 million years ago is based on the U-Pb (uranium-lead) isochron dating method.
Here, strata from Namibia and China was dated using this method.
There is a more or less active debate on the dating methodology regarding this time period. In any event it is far above my head and rather esoteric for my tastes.
The dating method I place here is approximate and based upon our limited understanding of the Earth at this time.
This was a long, long, very long time ago. The reader must understand that fact. Typically when humans think of the past, we tend to think in terms of thousands of years. Officially, civilization is supposed to be less than 10,000 years old.
Civilization, in this meaning, loosely refers to the creation of stable and moderate sized agrarian communities which may or may not have a written language.
But, this particular period of time is far, far older than that.
In fact, it is not 100x older. It is not 1000x older. It is 63,000 times older than what we consider to be the start of bipedal human civilization. It is so long ago as to be incomprehensible.
Please kindly refer to my notes (within the MAJestic Index) and my thoughts on the human ability to understand large swaths of time.
During this time, there were no evolved humanoids or proto-humans on the planet. The life on the earth was quite primitive.
Therefore, any and all the visitations were made by extraterrestrials. These creatures came and visited the earth and left. No one stayed for long. I would consider these visits and excursions to be survey expeditions made by long-extinct space-faring extraterrestrial species.
They had many forms.
The dominant physical form (by a “long shot”) that we, as humans, would recognize was the early variations of bipedal proto-humanoid extraterrestrials.
During this huge swath of time, the Earth was visited at various times by numerous species.
This period of time lasted for 94 million years, and began in the distant past around 630 million years ago. A lot of things can happen in 94 million years.
Again, the reader is reminded that this particular period of time contains 94 million years. That is an amazingly long expanse of time.
Indeed space-faring species developed, thrived and evolved past their physical forms many times during this period.
Obviously, this implies that there were space-faring, extraterrestrial races at this distant point in time so long ago. (None of which originated on the earth. They only visited it.)
During this period some would visit our solar system for various purposes and they would stay for varying lengths of time. All of these visitation(s) were short lived affairs.
Any settlements were temporary and used for scientific study and other short duration activities.
The visits were, of course, by extraterrestrial species of various points of origin, as there was absolutely just the very beginnings of higher order life on the world at this time.
Our solar system
The reader must understand that at this time the Earth was a bare and desolate place. The land was barren rock, and mountains. Sure there was mater and ice on the land masses, and perhaps microbes. But no significant life on the land surfaces. The only life was in the seas.
Our solar system was mostly free of the huge dust disks and debris field of the earlier 3 billion years.
Our star had matured during that time and became much more stable.
But stability is a relative thing; the earth was no longer entirely molten. Indeed, the surface of the earth was cooling and a thick gaseous envelope of various dusty gasses surrounded it.
Outside the Earth, the other rocky planets were also beginning to cool down and life was just beginning to form in the most unlikely of places. This included the smoggy Mars, and Venus, as well as numerous moons of Jupiter (because Jupiter was much closer to the Sun then as it is today).
At this point in time, the earth was just beginning to stabilize enough to maintain ambulatory life.
Previous to this time, it was a hot and desolate place (prior to the Sturtian period around 710 Ma).
Then it began to cool down.
During the early Neoproterozoic (around 850 Ma to 740 Ma) it cooled down sufficiently for early life in the earliest forms to evolve.
There was a pause or “burp” in evolution during the Sturtian glaciation around 710 to 735 Ma, and then a resumed period of growth during the Cryogenian period.
This again was put on hold during the Marinoan glaciation that finally ended around 635 Ma.
It was the Ediacaran period at around the end of the Marinoan glaciation where things started to evolve into life that we understand it to be; significant.
Around the Vendian period (approximately 570 Ma), the first classes and orders of identifiable creatures became recognizable in the fossil records.
Mars, and Venus looked quite different than they do now. The atmospheres were different. The pressures and temperatures were different. Their orbits, and orbitalinclinationtotheecliptic were different as well.
The earth had no moon, and our orbital inclination was different.
I do not know if there was another planet in orbit around the sun that eventually formed the asteroid belt. My personal belief that there wasn’t a planet, and what we see as asteroids are but the remnants of the solar system “frost zone”. Not of a planet that broke up sometime int he distant past.
Jupiter was larger. It was hotter, and it was closer to the sun than it is now.
A number of it’s moons had atmospheres, and there was actually some (short lived) periods of liquid water on key moons.
All the other gas giants, Jupiter, Neptune and Uranus also migrated outwards, but their physical changes were not as radical as for Jupiter.
Our Planet
Our earth was indeed a desolate place; however it was not without its charms.
It was marginally habitable, but showed great promise to those races with a long term view point.
Our planet consisted of mostly exposed and harsh rocks and water in a harsh nearly lifeless world. It was, of course, shrouded in toxic gasses under high temperature and pressure. But even in this environment, life spawned. During this time on the Earth we saw the continued emergence of simple organisms and simple creatures.
This time is considered the Neo-proterozoic era.
While nothing really existed on land, most life lived in the (emerging) waters of the earth and along the rocky shorelines. Here is where we have found the first good fossils of the first multi-celled animals on the Earth.
These (over the last few hundred years) were discovered and obtained, and that is how we now know that this was a period of the first native biological life on the earth.
Atmosphere
The world (at that time) was not only bare (consisting of broken rocky surfaces and coarse sand and gravels), but the atmosphere was pretty rank.
While there was an oxygen atmosphere, it was then only 40% of what consider normal today.
Instead the climate was dominated by (poisonous to humans) carbon dioxide and at a level fully sixteen times that of today. It was a time of thunderous storms, damp and dank weather and bleak, harsh rocky surroundings.
Yet, with all that being true, the world was still (considered) marginally habitable for bipedal humanoids. Bipedal humanoids would of needed oxygen masks, protective clothing, and solid reliable shoes to walk about on the planet.
Of course there was be dust and dirt, but it tended to have a granular appearance. The air, while rank, was breathable with filters and oxygen supplements.
The atmospheric pressure was tolerable but outside of what was considered normal for conventional humans.
The temperature varied by location, but for the most part was in the range considered to be marginally acceptable.
There was liquid water (over a large section of the globe); stable land forms, and a total lack of competing contentious native life forms. The earth at that time was a potential oasis that would be viewed as having great future promise by any extraterrestrial who would visit it.
Those species who visited it left their marks in various ways. Some of which eventually spawned higher order organisms unintentionally through careless behavior.
Which makes you wonder... "exactly what kinds of careless behaviors were involved?"
Native Life
It was during this time that the (so called) Ediacaran biota flourished.
Ediacaran biota.
The Ediacaran biota are the somewhat puzzling fauna of the Ediacaran period.
This geological period was from 635–542 million years ago (mya), but the fossil biota was only from 575–542 mya.
This was after a series of ice ages and just before the Cambrian period.
The biota consists of soft-bodied multicellular organisms, probably animals, which left trace fossils in rocks of Ediacaran age.
The biota is quite unusual, and there is no sign of it in the preceding Marinoan glaciation.
The biota appears to suffer a fairly severe extinction event at the boundary with the Cambrian.
Some of the biota may have survived into the early Cambrian.
Then the world consisted of very large and shallow seas.
These shallow seas permitted the growth of various simple organisms.
Simple trace fossils of possible worm-like creatures; known as the Trichophycus became common, as well as the very first sponges and trilobitomorphs (the early ancestors of trilobites).
The creatures of the earth at this time were simple in design and structure.
Throughout the history of the Earth from Cambrian to the present day, soft-bodied creatures are notorious for dying without a trace. The lack of tough structures leave them exposed to waves, winds, and scavengers, causing many of them to completely dissolve after death.
They were the earliest naturally evolving creatures of the earth and consisted of very simple proto-fungi and very simple proto-creatures.
At this time there were no insects, birds, or even flowers. The earth was a land of proto-fungi and small simple creatures.
The reader should consider the land at this time to be rather bare and rocky, with the earliest fungi and simple creatures clustering around the shorelines.
The most significant life form; non-ambulatory, was the various Stromatolite colonies that persisted throughout the planet in the shallow seas. These colonies looked like hard rounded sponge rocks and boulders.
Stromatolite colonies
These colonies grew close to the land and grew in great numbers due to the favorability of the local climate at that time. Some grew to enormous size. Truly, some were so enormous in size that they resembled low submerged islands.
The reader should consider this time to a period of all sorts of boneless ambulatory aquatic creatures such as jellyfish, and sea slugs.
Indeed, may I indulge in a little creative fantasy and suggest that the sea slugs became quite diverse and colorful. Imagine a world inhabited by such creatures. Creatures such as;
Hypselodoris kanga
Acanthodoris pylosa
Cyerce nigricans
Elysia crispata(’Lettuce sea slug’)
Flabellina iodinea
Costasiella kuroshimae(’Sea sheep’)
Glaucus atlanticus(’Blue angel’)
Phyllodesmium poindimiei
Dirona albolineata
Hexabranchus sanguineus(’Spanish dancer’)
I suggest the reader to look up these wondrous creatures and watch a video or GIF of their behavior. For indeed creatures similar to the aforementioned dominated the globe at that time.
Trilobite anatomy.
It was during this period that proto-trilobites came into existence.
We have scant knowledge of these creatures because they were soft shelled, and thus unable to be fossilized.
We can, however, surmise that they appeared similar to that of their later offspring; the trilobites, only with a far simpler biology and soft shell and cellular makeup.
Trilobites were among the early arthropods, a phylum of hard-shelled creatures with multiple body segments and jointed legs (although the legs, antennae and other finer structures of trilobites only rarely are preserved).
They constitute an extinct class of arthropods, the Trilobita, made up of ten orders, over 150 families, about 5,000 genera, and over 20,000 described species.
New species of trilobites are unearthed and described every year.
This makes trilobites the single most diverse class of extinct organisms, and within the generalized body plan of trilobites there was a great deal of diversity of size and form.
The smallest known trilobite species is under a millimeter long, while the largest include species from 30 to over 70 cm in length (roughly a foot to over two feet long!).
With such a diversity of species and sizes, speculations on the ecology of trilobites includes planktonic, swimming, and crawling forms, and we can presume they filled a varied set of trophic (feeding) niches, although perhaps mostly as detritivores, predators, or scavengers.
Consider where they lived…
Ediacara (formerly Vendian) biota.
The Ediacara (formerly Vendian) biota are ancient life-forms of the Ediacaran Period, which represent the earliest known complex multicellular organisms.
They appeared soon after the Earth thawed from the Cryogenian period’s extensive glaciers, and largely disappeared soon before the rapid appearance of biodiversity known as the Cambrian explosion.
This period saw the first appearance in the fossil record of the basic patterns and body-plans that would go on to form the basis of modern animals.
Little of the diversity of the Ediacara biota would be incorporated in this new scheme, with a distinct Cambrian biota arising and usurping the organisms that dominated the Ediacaran fossil record.
What was life like 560 million years ago?
Bacteria and green algae were common in the seas, as were the enigmatic acritarchs, planktonic single-celled algae of uncertain affinity.
But the Ediacaran also marks the first appearance of a group of large fossils collectively known as the "Ediacara biota."
The question of what these fossils are is still not settled to everyone's satisfaction; at various times they have been considered algae, lichens, giant protozoans, or even a separate kingdom of life unrelated to anything living today.
Some of these fossils are simple blobs that are hard to interpret and could represent almost anything.
Some are most like cnidarians, worms, or soft-bodied relatives of the arthropods.
Others are less easy to interpret and may belong to extinct phyla.
But besides the fossils of soft bodies, Ediacaran rocks contain trace fossils, probably made by wormlike animals slithering over mud.
The Ediacaran rocks thus give us a good look at the first animals to live on Earth.
Of course, there weren’t any naturally evolved humanoids at this time. Nor were there any animals, rodents, flies or insects.
For the most part, any life that was on the earth existed solely within (or near) the water.
It was an aquatic world.
For all practical purposes, the Earth consisted of land masses consisting of bare rocks, sand, dank clouds and waters of various salinity (some areas were alkaline, while others were rich in various salts).
Kimberella resembled a slug and has often been found near marks that resemble the feeding traces of more modern slugs and snails. Despite its seemingly simple body plan, Kimberella differed enough from the rest of the organisms living alongside it. This indicates that around 555 million years ago, 14 million years before the beginning of the Cambrian, life had started to evolve into various shapes and lifestyles.
Yet, even though there weren’t any significant large mammals around, we did see other kinds of life. Here we saw an emergence of the first native life forms.
Jellyfish World
This period is marked, or the ultimate creation of, a sudden climatic change at the end of the Marinoan ice age.
Here, the temperature started to warm up and huge swaths of glaciers and frozen areas disappeared, and large pools of warm water and regions of comparative stability appeared.
While we have the earliest fossils on record from this geological time period, it is believed that many soft skinned creatures roamed the seas. I like to think of this time period as the age of the jellyfish.
Given the environment and the nature of life, it seems probably that huge groups of various types of jellyfish evolved and swam in the seas of this early earth. And possibly, quite possibly, some of those soft bodied creatures grew to enormous size.
For after all, they were the dominant life forms at that time.
One notable fossil is the Pteridinium. Almost like Charnia, this animal was superficially feather-like with an anchor tethering it to the seafloor. What sets it apart from Charnia is how the lobes across its body are positioned. Unlike most animals today whose bodies can be divided into roughly symmetrical left side and right sides, Pteridinium sprouted its “leaflets” in three different directions. As quirky as it seems, the three-fold symmetry is not unique to Pteridinium and its close relatives. One group of small, rounded animals that resemble sea urchins called Trilobozoa somehow developed the same symmetry. One member of this group called Tribrachidium put a literal twist to this body plan, growing three arm-like structures spiraling out from the center of its body.
The reader should think of images of jellyfish, piles, globs and puddles of organic mobile goo. They should envision that these globs formed families or colonies of creatures and often conjugated together in the warm shallow seas.
Over time, the size and diversity of these groups changed.
However, any visitor to the planet would have been astounded by the great numbers of living organic masses that apparently thrived in the seas at that time.
The Ediacaran period was a time of flourishing soft skin and soft shelled life. The seas were alive with lichen and other forms of simple marine life.
Jellyfish are more or less common today.
They have evolved to fulfill their proper environmental niche in the world and have honed their survival instincts into great diversity of forms and creatures.
At this time, however, the jellyfish were of a simpler design.
They were more benign and less adaptable to change.
Many life forms, and species developed, found a particular environmental niche and then died off.
We do not know what any of them looked like, but we can certainly make our own summations.
There is no doubt in my mind that soft-skinned marine life grew to enormous sizes during this time.
I further believe that there were many such variations of these creatures, which should be considered to be the precursors of jellyfishes and other evolutionary “dead ends”.
This is a picture of a huge jellyfish with a diver next to it for comparative purposes. Obviously there were no humans on the planet at this time. I place it here for a comparative aspect in that native life, especially the dominant native life at that time, can and did grow to enormous size.
Perhaps even the size of a whale or larger!
I am confident that these first jellyfishes or similar soft-shelled creatures were genetically primitive, but I am also confident that they were able to specialize and fill various niches in the ecosystem naturally.
In fact, it is highly possible that these creatures could grow to amazing sizes. Though we do not really know for sure.
In any event, the Ediacara biota bear little resemblance to modern life forms. Any soft skinned creatures would be unrecognizable to most humans today.
What the earth looked like at that time.
The Earth 630,000,000 years ago was a very different place. Not only were the contents of different shapes than what we see today, but the weather and climate were also completely different as well.
The earth had poles at a different location and the axis of rotation relative to the obliquity of the ecliptic was completely different to what we know it to be today.
It was an ocean world populated with soft-skinned native life, and very few land based forms.
Yet this world held promise.
Visitors to our solar system would find that the earth not only held a moderately acceptable environment, but also the planet Mars would appear marginally interesting as well. Mars had a thicker atmosphere, and while the once present oceans were long; long gone there would of still been slight evidence of glaciers and other frozen remnants that would of made visiting this solar system of great interest to extraterrestrial explorers.
Rheotaxis in the Garden of the Ediacaran
The “Garden of the Ediacaran” was a period in the ancient past when Earth’s shallow seas were populated with a bewildering variety of enigmatic, soft-bodied creatures.
Scientists traditionally have pictured it as a tranquil, almost idyllic interlude that lasted from 635 to 540 million years ago. But new interdisciplinary studies suggests that the organisms living at the time may have been much more dynamic than experts have thought.
An international team of researchers from Canada, the UK and the USA, including Dr Imran Rahman from the University of Bristol, UK studied fossils of an extinct organism called Tribrachidium, which lived in the oceans some 555 million years ago. Using a computer modelling approach called computational fluid dynamics, they were able to show that Tribrachidium fed by collecting particles suspended in water. This is called suspension feeding and it had not previously been documented in organisms from this period of time.
Tribrachidium lived during a period of time called the Ediacaran, which ranged from 635 million to 541 million years ago. This period was characterised by a variety of large, complex organisms, most of which are difficult to link to any modern species. It was previously thought that these organisms formed simple ecosystems characterised by only a few feeding modes, but the new study suggests they were capable of more types of feeding than previously appreciated.
Dr Simon Darroch, an Assistant Professor at Vanderbilt University, said:
"For many years, scientists have assumed that Earth's oldest complex organisms, which lived over half a billion years ago, fed in only one or two different ways. Our study has shown this to be untrue, Tribrachidium and perhaps other species were capable of suspension feeding. This demonstrates that, contrary to our expectations, some of the first ecosystems were actually quite complex."
Read more at; https://phys.org/news/2015-11-earth-ecosystems-complex-previously-thought.html More information: 'Suspension feeding in the enigmatic Ediacaran organism Tribrachidium demonstrates complexity of Neoproterozoic ecosystems' by Imran A. Rahman, Simon A. F. Darroch, Rachel A. Racicot and Marc Laflamme in Science Advances, DOI: 10.1126/sciadv.1500800
Scientists have found It extremely difficult to fit these Precambrian species into the tree of life. That is because they lived in a time before organisms developed the ability to make shells or bones. As a result, they didn’t leave much fossil evidence of their existence behind, and even less evidence that they moved around.
So, experts have generally concluded that virtually all of the Ediacarans—with the possible exception of a few organisms similar to jellyfish that floated about—were stationary and lived out their adult lives fixed in one place on the sea floor.
The new findings concern one of the most enigmatic of the Ediacaran genera, a penny-sized organism called Parvancorina, which ischaracterized by a series of ridges on its back that form the shape of a tiny anchor.
By analyzing the way in which water flows around Parvancorina’s body, an international team of researchers has concluded that these ancient creatures must have been mobile: specifically, they must have had the ability to orient themselves to face into the current flowing around them.
That would make them the oldest species known to possess this capability, which scientists call rheotaxis.
"Our analysis shows that the amount of drag produced with the current flowing from front to back is substantially less than that flowing from side to side," said Simon Darroch, assistant professor of earth and environmental sciences at Vanderbilt University, who headed the study. "In the strong currents characteristic of shallow ocean environments, that means Parvancorina would have benefited greatly from adjusting its position to face the direction of the flow."
The analysis, which used a technique borrowed from engineering called computational fluid dynamics (CFD), also showed that when Parvancorina faced into the current, its shape created eddy currents that were directed to several specific locations on its body.
"This would be very beneficial to Parvancorina if it was a suspension feeder as we suspect because it would have concentrated the suspended organic material making it easier to consume,"
-Darroch
More information: Simon A. F. Darroch et al, Inference of facultative mobility in the enigmatic Ediacaran organism, Biology Letters (2017). DOI: 10.1098/rsbl.2017.0033 Read more at: https://phys.org/news/2017-05-life-precambrian-livelier-previously-thought.html#jCp
The absence of fast-moving animals allowed microbes to colonize the surface of the ocean floor, then create a layer of secretion wherever they grow. Such a sticky layer allowed the sediment to stabilize and acted as a mold when the animals died on top of them. This age was the Time of the Slime, where the ocean floor was filled with sticky substances. Such a slow-paced life, combined with the lack of predators, is a feature unique to this period. As a nod to the biblical Garden of Eden, some people have referred to this peaceful early Earth as the Garden of Ediacara.
Extraterrestrial Occupation
Now I am going to discuss extraterrestrial species and how they interacted with the earth at this time.
Let it be known that the present species that MAJestic interacts with did not exist at that time.
Here we are discussing (mostly) long extinct species that are known to the extraterrestrial species that we interact with today.
But of which they are themselves unfamiliar with them in any degree of detail that they specifically and selectively choose not to communicate with me about. I cannot say much more than that. Cannot.
At this time, the universe was already mature.
So even though our solar system was still rather youthful, the rest of the universe was quite old.
In fact, the universe was already 11 billion years old when the Ediacaran period began.
What this means is that there were entire life cycles of stars that were born, grew into maturity, and died well before our solar system was even formed.
In fact, there is evidence, from the spectral composition of our sun, that at least four generations of previous stars came before our solar system was berthed. This means that it completely realistic to expect the presence of extremely advanced galactic-wide extraterrestrial civilizations with interstellar transport technology in our region of space.
At this time, there was still consternation regarding specific pockets of unorganized quanta that had naturally formed into non-approved quantum soul archetypes.
But none of that really was a concern to our physical world at that time.
The quanta that surrounding the planet was just beginning to formulate into discrete packets; while some might argue otherwise, and the entire region was open for physical extraterrestrial exploration.
(It had been explored much earlier by discarnate soul orders, but that is not our concern at this time.)
+ + +
The Ediacaran period saw the presence of the very first humanoid extraterrestrial bases on the earth.
These facilities were short duration affairs. Mostly used for scientific inquiry. To imagine what these facilities were like, one should consider what the current human research stations look like in Antarctica.
Scout. Scan. Visit. Sample. Leave.
I am quite confident that the extraterrestrial bases were very similar to those facilities in both form and function.
Essentially,we should realistically consider the base facilities at this time and place to be similar to that consisting of a small cluster of habitats around a secured landing area for the associative vehicles.
None of the bases or communities during this entire huge swath of time (during the Ediacaran period) were ever very large.
Typically, the species operated out of their spacecraft, which at that time, tended to be (comparatively) huge. (Not all, and not the “critical” visits. Just the ones that made the greatest disruption in the quantum envelope that is recorded.) They would then send excursions to the surface and form “base camps” which typically tended to consist of rudimentary structures and facilities.
Typically planetary excursions were very; very short lived affairs. Often lasting less than one month in duration.
Although there were a number which lasted for much longer; perhaps as long as two years in duration. However, in all cases, they could just be considered to be scientific excursions, which were there for the purposes of scientific investigation and inquiry.
For some reason, I have always assumed that these visits required large spacecraft with interstellar propulsive capability. However, I do not know if this was the case for every species. Indeed, for the multi-dimensional and higher order species, they might have utilized other methods that are far beyond our level of understanding at this time.
Typically, one might expect (or more accurately, assume) the base facilities to lie close to the equator for reasons of avoiding the gravity sink of the earth. Nevertheless, when one studies the map of the Earth at that time, one can clearly see a problem with the base placement.
It is my arrogant assumption that the extraterrestrial entities needed to land or walk on dry land, and that they would see ocean landings a barrier.
All of this is assumptive on my part.
The reader should be made aware that the poles (North and South) as well as the equator as determined by conventional historical cartographers are typically incorrectly placed.
The axis of rotation and the tilt of the earth at this time was wholly different than what it is today.
The current maps relative to this time has to be adjusted to take this into account. I hope that I was able to rectify this discrepancy in the maps that I presented here.
There weren’t too many dry land locations near the equator at this time.
That severely limited the location of the bases of operation around a water world swimming full of proto-jellyfish like creatures. In any event, none were involved in any type of colonization or industrial facilities.
That I am aware of.
It is entirely possible that contamination of the native ecosystem by extraterrestrial races contributed to the emergence of life on the Earth at this time.
Contamination refers to any extraterrestrial influence on the biology of the earth ecosystem at that time.
We can be assured that there was some degree of contamination.
There always is.
This is both physical, spiritual and in all ways quantum. But, no one knows for sure the impact it had, if any.
Nothing (physical) remains of whatever visitors occupied the earth at this time.
However, there is the remote possibility that the Baigong pipes in China might be the remains of what once was some kind of industrial facility of some type.
The Baigong Pipes are a series of pipe-like features found on and near Mount Baigong, about 40 km southwest of the city of Delingha, in the Haixi Mongol and Tibetan Autonomous Prefecture, Qinghai Province, China.
Associated with these pipe-like features are "rusty scraps" and "strangely shaped stones".
Analysis of the "rusty scraps" by Liu Shaolin at a "local smeltery" reportedly found that they consist of 30 percent ferric oxide and large amounts of silicon dioxide and calcium oxide.
This is what one would expect of fossilized rust buried in sandy soil.
The state run newspaper People's Daily reported on a 2007 investigation where a research fellow from the Chinese Earthquake Administration reported they had found some of the pipes to be highly radioactive.
Skeptics claim that this is a natural formation (of course they would).
According to any measure of anthropological science, there was no way that naturally evolved tool-making bipedal humanoids could of evolved at this time.
In any event, any remains of artificial constructions from this distant past would be altered beyond appearance and would have alternative material constructions.
For a conventional explanation of what this site is please visit; http://skeptoid.com/episodes/4181.
It has a moderately reasonable conventional explanation for the observed formations. Yet, I must specifically stress to the reader that time and geologic pressures alter the appearance and shape of things..
This site could just as well be a natural site as it could be the remains of a very ancient construction. The reader needs to pursue life with an open mind and consider both possibilities.
The only evidence remaining for (supplemented) human observation are the tell-tale quantum level signatures of early visitations in the (local regional) quantum cloud.
In our universe, every time one quantum particle interacts with another one, even if it is just a thought, it leaves a “mark” for all eternity.
Those with the proper tools can read and understand these marks.
And thus have the ability to observe the past as it transpired, in real time.
We know of a number of extremely advanced races that can do this.
But as far as humans are concerned, only our quantum soul bodies have this ability. (Even at that, it is rudimentary.)
Our physical bodies are wholly unable to access these records. Instead, we must utilize the assistance of other, more advanced physical races.
Unfortunately, we as humans, do not possess the ability to read and interpret these signatures.
We only know what is told to us by those whom have this ability.
What they tell us is quite simplistic.
They tell us that the planet was visited and explored by humanoid bipedal entities at this time. We also know that they traveled through various methods, not limited to physical transport. Indeed dimensional transport seemed to be the most common method.
Their past, history, appearance, and other traits that we might find interesting are shrouded in the mists of time.
That includes what happened to the various species whom visited this planet and where they are today.
This is the full extent of what I know about this time.
Summary
Around 650 million years ago, the first extraterrestrial life set foot on the earth and investigated it. Over time there were numerous subsequent visits. During some of these visits a small number of bases or facilities were constructed for various scientific and investigative purposes.
The solar system at that time was still very young, being only three billion years old. There were many comets and orbiting rocky bodies that yet had to be absorbed or collided with the larger planetary bodies.
Mars was not habitable, but both Mars and Venus were more habitable to ambulatory humanoids than they are today.
To this end, this solar system was of interest because of the three possible marginally desirable planets in the system. The Earth, Venus and Mars. Additionally, since the gas giants were closer to the sun than they are now, and hotter, a number of Jupiter moons possessed atmosphere in a gaseous state, and some even had oceans that held water in a liquid state.
This entire solar system held promise.
The earth at that time was mostly bare rock with oceans teeming with soft-shell creatures.
At that time there was no galactic federation that would claim administration for our solar system.
For the Ediacaran Period of nearly 89 million years, the situation was pretty much a stable one. Our solar system was mapped, explored, and systematically ignored by other species.
The vast bulk of time where this occurred was from 600 Ma to around 560 Ma.
They actually found our solar neighbors far more interesting for a host of reasons, and thus at this time just mostly ignored our solar system.
The solar system was still evolving and there were various comets and rogue asteroids that would and did present a threat to any native life in the solar system. This system was considered to be moderately interesting but not worthy of colonization by any of the species who visited it.
It was noted; explored in a more or less cursory manner, and archived.
Very little happened on the earth in the regard to extraterrestrial involvement of a substantive nature during this time period.
Those MM readers who might wonder what life might resemble around planets in the habitual zone of stars around three billion years old, might well learn from this narrative and explanation here.
You’ll not find any big banners or popups here talking about cookies and privacy notices. There are no ads on this site (aside from the hosting ads – a necessary evil). Functionally and fundamentally, I just don’t make money off of this blog. It is NOT monetized. Finally, I don’t track you because I just don’t care to.
This happened to a friend of mine 10 years back and I was left astonished.
The company decided to focus on large deals and geared up all its sales team for the same. My friend (lets name him A) who was a salesperson of company X took this to heart and went after large deals for an entire year. Having said that, winning a 20m$ deal is different than 2m$ deals. The person had no result to show but lot of effort and background setting to do. After 3 quarters of no result, my friends Boss (lets name him B) calls up a review meeting at 10 pm to tell him that he has been fired.
My friend A had a call with a prospect at 11 pm. He attended the call, signed the biggest deal of the company for that year and left the company (as he was terminated at 10 pm) The Boss (B) took the most hefty sales commission of that year from the company as A was terminated.
I was an employee of the same company.
Its easier for companies to define strategy but lack of belief in people who can carry out that strategy and unwillingness to bear the cost of the strategy. Don’t know who lost more here, company (lost a great employee and believer and doer), A (lost the job and the biggest commission) or B (got the money but lost the respect of entire sales team)
BREAKING NEWS: China SANCTION Rare Earths Processing TECHNOLOGY To U.S
Yes, I did. And if the Angel had not spoken to me, I may not have recovered from what I almost did. I was (and still am) a Christian believing in God as He is personified in Father, Son and Holy Spirit and I believe that there are Angels that perform whatever God wills.
I was a teenager living at home with my parents and wanted to run to K Mart to buy something. My next door neighbor’s two girls (probably 7 and 10) were there also and wanted to go with me. I tried to tell them it was not a “fun trip” as I was going for one thing only so if they went with me, they’d have to stay in the car. Their mother gave them permission so we left.
As I’d told them, they had to stay in the car. I bought my one item and came out. I could easily see my car but there were no children in it. At first, I was angry. Then I thought, they’re hiding so I’ll teach them a lesson. I’ll get into the car, zoom off across the parking lot, then when I stop and look back, they’ll be running after me and I’ll laugh at them!
So, I got in and started the car. As there was no car in front of me, I thought to put the car in drive and push down on the gas. But, just as I put the car in ‘drive,’ a voice from the back seat, a man’s voice, said, ‘Put it in reverse!’ The voice had such authority in it that I responded by immediately putting the car into reverse. As I turned to look behind the car as I backed up, I wondered, “Who was that?”
I was so surprised by the voice that I stopped the car and looked into the back seat. No one was there! When I turned around, I got the shock of my life- where the front of my car had been, were the two girls crouching down on the ground! If I had driven off at high speed as I’d planned, I would have run over – and possibly killed – the two girls! I immediately knew that an Angel had spoken to me in order to save the children and, most likely, me!
I remain to this day profoundly grateful for that voice.
You can already see the streets around the country. Go to 百度地图
As for why not google. It will be related privacy and national security laws.
Things might have been different but at the time google was not working with local governments to censor content (it is now) since it had a single product. Now each country is localised and has censorship but politics prevent google from returning to China.
I don’t see that changing any time soon. Also, China will let Google street view go all over China the same year that the US allows Baidu street view go all over the US.
Any, enjoy Baidu Street View you can see most of China using it.
It is worth being aware that Baidu Street View doesn’t show everything. They avoid going near most military locations and often only go to major towns. That being said you can see lots of locations that are in the news. About half of the detention facilities in Xinjiang can be found but not the ones outside of smaller towns.
Hoisin Spareribs (Cantonese)
Hoisin Spareribs
Ingredients
4 tablespoons hoisin sauce
2 tablespoons fish sauce
2 tablespoons peanut oil
4 cloves garlic, crushed
2 pounds pork ribs, cut crosswise
Instructions
Rub the meat with the sauce to coat well. Cover and allow the ribs to marinate in the refrigerator for 2 hours.
Grill over a medium fire, turning once or twice until the ribs are slightly charred and cooked through. Let them cool slightly. At this point, they will be easy to cut. Cut them into bite-size pieces.
He was 12 at the time. I had given him a 6pm curfew. He needed to be home to eat dinner and do his homework. I understood that he biked home after school and hung out at his friend’s house, which is about a half block away. So one day he was late. It’s 6:15 and no son. I’m upset and worried.
He comes home and tells me that their friend, Jenny * had come over to play Mario Kart with them, and he wanted to walk her back to her house because it was getting late. So he walked his bike next to her and walked her to her door before he came home.
I admit, I was a bit skeptical. I let it go with a “be home on time tomorrow”. As excuses go, that was a damn good one, so a little pass was given. I half believed him, but didn’t really think that was the reason. I was wrong.
Her mom called me the next day and thanked me. She was nervous about letting her daughter hang out with BOYS. She thanked me for my son walking her daughter home. That is when I realized that he had become a young man. Who can weigh decisions. Worried mom, or walk a younger, smaller person home safe.
He’s almost 14 now, and has earned my trust. When Jenny hangs out, he makes sure he walks her home. She lives about 3 blocks away. Her mom and I have become friends. Unknown to him, she texts me when he drops her off. She’s his friend. Even when he was “dating” someone else, he would still make sure she got home safe.
I’m not saying it right. She’s one of the guys. A friend. She just lives a few blocks over. As a woman who was once the girl who was one of the guys, I get it. I like her. She’s a good friend to him.
My son, as the one who looks out for her? That’s not a kid’s decision. That’s a young man that I am proud of. I got him a cell phone so it’s not the same now, but I remember that night when he told me that he was just making sure his friend got home safe. Then getting the phone call thanking me. That’s when I knew, I had a young man, not a little boy.
*her name has been changed.
A crying mother cat brought her dying kitten to a man. Just unbelievable!
Let me preface this answer by saying I’m a law-abiding, productive member of society. In particular, I don’t condone shoplifting.
However…
In my youth my social circle was… shall we say… pretty diverse. When I was a freshman in college, a guy named Mark was part of that social circle. He was clean cut, well read, well spoken, impeccably dressed, and homeless. This was pre-9/11, back when sleeping at the airport wouldn’t raise any red flags (especially in Vegas, where I grew up).
He stole stuff for a living. Most anything he needed for personal use (clothes, bikes, personal electronics, books, etc.) was stolen. He would also sell stolen stuff to get money — because unfortunately, not everything can be stolen.
One day he stole a set of tools and got himself a union job. And shortly after that, he got himself an apartment. So he enlisted my help (… as a friend with a car…) to gather all the stuff he had stashed at gym lockers around town and move it to his new apartment. Lockers and lockers and lockers full of stuff.
It didn’t stop there. Now that he had an apartment, he needed home stuff. Sheets, pillows, blankets, pots, pans, etc. Stuff he never had a use for. I asked him how the hell he’s going to steal something as bulky as pillows. He said, “The same way I steal anything. I just walk right out with them.”
I couldn’t believe it, and he invited me to observe.
So we took a trip down to the outlet mall. I wasn’t going to be an accomplice, but I had to see this for myself. I’d loiter around by the front of the store just to see him make his smooth exit.
And sure enough, he went and got himself a giant empty bag, put pillows (or pots and pans, or blankets, or whatever), put the stuff in the bag, and walked right out.
In one case, he put some stuff (I think plates?) right down the front of his pants. Evidently, he was spotted by someone. On his way out, the manager of the store got in his way and said in his best manager voice: “Stop right there sir. Were you planning on paying for those?”
Mark pulled the plates out of his pants, handed them to the manager, and cheerfully said, “I wasn’t planning on it, here you go!” and walked right out. The manager stood there, holding the plates, dumbfounded. Getting back to the exact question, I’m pretty sure my jaw literally dropped.
I once fired a new employee the same day that I hired him.
I advertised an opening that I had for a security guard position and a young guy came in and filled out an application. He was a clean cut kid and had actually dressed like he was going on an interview — sport coat, slacks, tie, white shirt and shined shoes — so once he completed the app, I had him come into my office to chat while my secretary checked his references.
She was able to reach all but his last employer — she got an answering machine — and all of his personal references, and they all gave him a glowing approval. So I decided to roll the dice and offer him a job. He came in on a Tuesday and the positioned opened on Friday, so I gave him a couple of uniforms and directions to the post, and told him to show up on Thursday for training.
I was congratulating myself for filling the position so quickly, and easily, when the business owner from that last employer returned my secretary’s call. The man said that he normally didn’t give out derogatory references because it opened him up to trouble, but he didn’t see anything wrong with telling me that the young man had been fired for stealing copper wiring from his supply yard, and selling it for scrap, because he had filed charges on the kid.
I called the agency that had made the arrest and they confirmed that the kid had been arrested, and that he was charged with a felony. If the kid was found guilty he would not be able to work as a security guard so I decided to nip a potential problem in the bud. I called the kid and asked him to return to the office with his uniform. He knew what had happened and apologized for not telling me about his arrest and impending court date. He seemed, to me, to be a good kid who made a bad choice but I still terminated his employment.
Ten psychological knowledge of love you must know right now!
1.Most women are attracted to men with a strong sense of humor.
Generally speaking, a strong sense of humor is associated with intelligence.
2. When the relationship lasts for three to five months, it is most likely to break up.
According to Fisher, a psychologist, the divorce rate is the highest after four years of marriage. So love needs to be tested by time.
3. Compared with those who regard love as a fairy tale, people who look at love rationally are more likely to obtain love, and love is longer.
4. Men are more likely to be attracted to women with similar bone structure to his mother.
5. What kind of person you are, you can attract what kind of person you are.
If you expect to meet a great person, you have to be equally good first
6. Have you ever had the experience that you suddenly feel like someone in a moment, but then you feel like nothing the next day.
This is known as the “suspension bridge effect.”. When a person is anxious to cross the suspension bridge, his heart will not help but quicken his heart. If you happen to meet another person at this time, he will mistakenly understand the acceleration of heart rate caused by fear as that the other party makes his heart beat, so that he likes this person. Love needs time, but the heartbeats needs reason.
7. A good first impression is more about body language, tone and speed than what you actually say.
8.Love is a natural painkiller.
When you have a disease, the person you love is around, which can significantly relieve the pain. Even looking at a picture of a loved one can relieve pain. Meanwhile, psychologists have found that when couples hug, their brains release oxytocin. Oxytocin helps reduce headaches for up to 4 hours. So if you feel tired, stressed or in pain, hugging your partner is a great alternative to any painkiller.
9. Express gratitude to your lover and feel happiness immediately.
10. Heartbreak is real.
Studies have shown that violent or traumatic events can cause real pain in a person’s heart, which is known as broken heart syndrome. When deep emotions cause excessive anxiety, chest pain or shortness of breath and other symptoms, it is easy to have broken heart syndrome. This is often more likely to occur in women and can easily be misdiagnosed as a heart attack.
This happens in some parts of the US more than others. This photograph was taken in Louisville, Kentucky, where it’s so common a single hospital may do this half a dozen times a week.
Generally the patient is discharged, escorted off hospital property by security, and left at the closest street corner to the hospital. Patients who can’t walk are placed in a wheelchair, wheeled off hospital property, then physically dumped out of the wheelchair into the street.
The year was 1978: I was applying for a job as a dishwasher on the late night shift at a local restaurant. I was told to return at 11PM (when the shift started) for an interview.
What I didn’t know upon my arrival (at 11PM) was that someone else had already been hired.
But that other guy (whose name was “Luke”) didn’t show up.
And everybody thought I was Luke.
It took a few weeks for the paperwork to clear up (because I was punching in as Luke Somebody for two weeks). And it was a good thing that I got paid in cash every week.
And “Yes” I thought it was odd that I would be shown to the locker room upon my arrival (at 11PM) and told to change into a uniform and then go to the dishroom without even being asked my name. But it was a job (and I worked there about 9 months).
The summer before I left for college, Yale hosted a formal reception for the families of the incoming freshmen in my area. It was the kind of gathering where people come in button-down shirts and lacy dresses, and where sliced fruit and fancy cheeses are served on silver platters.
While everyone else was focusing on mingling, Claire Yang – ten years old at the time – immediately zeroed in on the food. I let her make a beeline for the refreshment line, and for a while afterwards, I didn’t notice anything amiss.
Then she returned with an anxious look on her face, pulled me to the side, and said, “Hannah? Can you help me eat this?”
I looked down at her plate and found myself face-to-face with a colossal slice of brie – at least a quarter the size of the enormous wheel it came from. Claire had managed to consume an admirable fraction of her slice, but even so, she was still holding enough brie to spread on a month’s worth of crackers.
“I thought it was cake,” she whispered.
I just stared at her, trying not to laugh.
In an even smaller voice, she said, “It’s not cake.”
We hadn’t really attended events with wheels of brie before, so it was an understandable mistake. Still, though, I wish I could’ve seen the faces of everyone else in line when she cut it.
My dad has bees.
Today, I went to his house and he showed me all the honey he had gotten from the hives. He took the lid off a 5-gallon bucket full of honey and on top of the honey there were 3 little bees, struggling. They were covered in sticky honey and drowning. I asked him if we could help them and he said he was sure they wouldn’t survive. Casualties of honey collection I suppose.
I asked him again if we could at least get them out and kill them quickly, after all he was the one who taught me to put a suffering animal (or bug) out of its misery. He finally conceded and scooped the bees out of the bucket. He put them in an empty Chobani yogurt container and put the plastic container outside.
Because he had disrupted the hive with the earlier honey collection, there were bees flying all over outside.
We put the 3 little bees in the container on a bench and left them to their fate. My dad called me out a little while later to show me what was happening. These three little bees were surrounded by all their sisters (all of the bees are females) and they were cleaning the sticky nearly dead bees, helping them to get all of the honey off of their bodies. We came back a short time later and there was only one little bee left in the container. She was still being tended to by her sisters.
When it was time for me to leave, we checked one last time and all three of the bees had been cleaned off enough to fly away and the container was empty.
Those three little bees lived because they were surrounded by family and friends who would not give up on them, family and friends who refused to let them drown in their own stickiness and resolved to help until the last little bee could be set free.
Bee Sisters. Bee Peers. Bee Teammates.
We could all learn a thing or two from these bees.
During my brief stint as a McDonald’s fry cook in summer 1982, the crew at my store got along pretty well.
Then came the day when a “transfer” worker with a couple of years’ experience came aboard. I met him when he was walked around the store a day or two before his first shift. He was about my age, 20, and seemed really full of himself.
There was talk among the crew that this fellow was going to position himself as some kind of de facto crew chief, and nobody was looking forward to it.
Turned out, that never happened.
I wasn’t working on the day New Guy had his downfall, but I sure heard about it. It was on his first shift.
New Guy had experience running a cash register, so he was put on one, right out of the gate.
This was during the early days of the Chicken McNugget, which came with your choice of dipping sauce. One of these was barbecue sauce, an unremarkable tomato-based variety.
So, a small group of well-dressed older men get into the line at New Guy’s register. One of them says he’d like an order of McNuggets but he’s not sure what dipping sauce to get and could the cashier (New Guy) please recommend one?
New Guy starts into an opinionated description that includes the phrase “the barbecue sauce sucks.”
Those well-dressed older gents? They are McDonald’s executives on their way to or from some important McBusiness and have stopped off for a quick bite and to see how the crew is promoting Chicken McNuggets.
In their minds, telling customers that “the barbecue sauce sucks” is not good McMarketing. It’s more Jeff Spicoli than Mayor McCheese, I think you’d agree.
They did not keep their displeasure a secret.
New Guy was terminated on the spot, more or less, though the store management probably had to do some paperwork to make it official.
He didn’t even finish his first shift.
But just to make sure New Guy isn’t forgotten, I still use the phrase “the barbecue sauce sucks” whenever possible.
I had known and worked with *Ernest* for perhaps ten years.
I had helped him with professional and personal situations, and he often confided in me, so I knew ‘where the bodies were buried’ (nothing illegal).
I never confided in him nor asked him for help because I am a very private person, but that was OK since he was very focused on himself.
I guessed that he sometimes bad-mouthed me to other male teachers because he wanted them to include him. Another reason to not confide in him.
Several times when I couldn’t take on an outside class, I would suggest him for the course. He was someone I could trust to do a good job. He thanked me each time.
We were both teaching at an international company where I had taught before and was respected. He was, to them, the ‘new guy.’
I saw him in the training manager’s office, and he was ‘ernestly’ (pun?) speaking to her; she looked concerned.
Ernest said he had been talking to her about a student.
I asked her later if there was a problem and could I help. That’s when she told me that Ernest had tried to convince her to use only him for future classes by spewing several untruths about my teaching methods. She told him she would consider what he had said.
And she did, and that’s why she would not give him additional courses.
He had hanged himself.
The training manager and I had worked together several times, and she had taken two of my classes.
That incident opened my eyes to his deceit; I wondered if he had done the same at other places where I had helped him find work.
He had.
Some relationships were saved; some were lost.
I did not confront him: it would have accomplished nothing constructive. Ernest never admitted to wrongdoing. He blew up and argued, never hearing anyone else. It would have been a waste of my time.
I stopped suggesting him to clients.
Fast forward about six months.
I was hunched over a stack of students’ papers in the teachers’ work area. I was not interested in conversation, but Ernest asked if I had heard from the international company.
Without looking up, I said I was currently teaching a course there. He asked angrily why he hadn’t been called, as if I had had something to do with it.
Continuing to work on my students’ papers, not looking up, I said, “She and I have worked together several times. She didn’t like what you said about me.”
Ernest began to sputter and deny. Still not looking at him, I just waved him away.
Just think about this close to 1 billion out of China’s 1.4 billion people in China are middle class and are buying stuffs that the U.S. can sell or benefit from. That is more 3 times the U.S. consumer. But it is bigger than the next 10 biggest consumer on earth put together! And what is worst it is still growing and growing fast!
And you want to “decouple” or “de-risk” from this market? If I were you, I will go all out courting the Chinese to be your life long customer!
But that is not all. 2/3 of the rest of earths need is made in China and they may replace your parts and product too while making them? Did it sink into your head that you are being decouple or de-risk from the world?
It has been a full 5 years since Donald Trump declared a trade war with China. Do you want to know the result? China has out grown the U.S. five times! Your deficits and debts actually shot up! You had a crippling inflation and treating it cause you a banking crisis! China is having 0.2% inflation rate!
If you care to open your eyes, it is a mosquito bite for China while it is a cancerous growth for the U.S. economy. This coming election chose wisely, dump every China hawks and China haters! They are destroying your livelihood and putting you in debts. Get a guy in the White House that fly straight to China to patch thing up the first day in office.
China is your only hope to stay away from bankruptcy! Tell Taiwan don’t be another Ukraine. We the U.S. cannot afford Ukraine let alone Taiwan which will cost us a 100 times more! You island is not going to float near Florida coast! Be real. Join China today!
Tell China no need to innovate we will sell everything damn things to you any day any time!
I used to have a friend who treated service workers poorly. At restaurants, he would make a point to complain about the service, the table location, the ambience, and, of course, the food. He sent his orders back to the kitchen more than a few times when we dined together. His manners toward the wait staff were mean and condescending.
The first few times I witnessed the behavior, I let it go. Maybe his tantrum was legitimate. Maybe it was his youth. (He was in his 20s.)Then it became a pattern. The next time it happened, I said to him, “That’s enough,” as he was berating the waitress about the temperature of the food. I apologized to the waitress before we left the restaurant.
I asked him why he had to be so rude to the service staff. He didn’t think his behaviors were out of line at all. He rationalized falsely that if he had paid for the service, it would have to hold up to his liking. I then reminded him that it was I who footed the bill for almost all the meals we had had, and even if he had contributed his share, his treatment of the staff still wouldn’t have been justifiable.
He was working as a receptionist at a community clinic at the time. I asked him how he’d feel if the customers were rude to him for things beyond his control. He said that would never happen because everyone loved him. He then quickly dismissed my teaching moment.
I stopped inviting him to dinners and weaned myself from him socially. He reached out a few times, and I eventually had to tell him the reason we could not be friends – his kindness deficiency.
Kindness to people you care about is easy, but it shines the brightest when you dispense it to strangers and those who are vulnerable to your criticism.
Experience China’s Futuristic Spaceship Train Station: A $10 Billion Masterpiece
I drove my girlfriend’s new Honda Civic and noticed a rough 2-1 downshift and told her it would be good to bring it in and have it checked as it was under warranty.
She called me when the dealership told her that it needed new front pads and rotors at 3000 miles, and the warped rotors were the problem I had felt.
I happened to be a master certified Mercedes-Benz technician at the time, so naturally I had already ruled that out. We went to the dealer and I met with the service advisor, while I was still in my work uniform, and asked him to review the recommendations on the car.
He, rather dismissively, said it needed pads and rotors because my girlfriend had warped them. I asked him for the run-out measurement and threshold for the car, and he looked at me like I was speaking in an alien language. Then he said that they don’t do measurements, just a road test. I replied that if the vehicle was out of the specifications for run-out, (the warpage of the rotor surface) that it must be measured against a manufacturer’s standard to claim that a new car needed $600 in brakes that wasn’t caused by a warrantable defect.
Given that he still gave me a “deer in headlights” look with a hint of “go F yourself”, I asked for him to bring the car out for a road test. When it arrived I took the work order from his hand and read the “mileage in” out loud, then I read off the exact same mileage from the odometer. I asked him how a determination for warped brakes was done in less than a mile, when the brakes should go through their full range of temperature to diagnose system specific issues on a road test. He replied that they can get hot in under a mile. I asked him if that kind of driving was policy for his technicians to be doing in a residential neighborhood, and he just stared blankly.
So we went on the road test and I duplicated the issue. He said that it was warped rotors. So I did it again and let go of the steering wheel, as warped fronts cause the wheel to tip back and forth when slowing to a stop, and when it remained stationary I asked him if it was still warped brakes. He stated he didn’t feel anything. So I did it again, and he stated that that was normal. After another few times demonstrating a 2-1 downshift clunk, with no vibration in the steering wheel, and getting a number of other BS replies from the advisor, it was time to call in someone else. Mind you, my girlfriend was in the back seat watching this whole thing.
At that point I asked for the service manager.
Of course we sat around for another 45 minutes before we were told he had just gone home, and the foreman would see us.
Round 2 with the foreman. I drove the car and duplicated the issue. He said, that’s odd, let me drive it. He drove it and duplicated the issue multiple times. He stated that he would check it out and let me know what he found, and that it definitely wasn’t brakes and a recommendation for brakes should have never been made without a proper road test no matter how common warped rotors were on these cars. The next morning he called up and stated that all the shifts were within specification, he had also driven a number of other vehicles and it appeared to have been a difference in programming between the 06 and 07 models where the 07 had a harsher downshift at low speeds. He said to bring it back if the shift ever got worse and even out of warranty, there was a verified complaint on record and it would be fixed within reason.
Even experienced technicians can get the runaround just like everyone else. The only advantage I had was I understand the vehicle systems, and how to diagnose them, enabling me to call them out as a professional. But when someone shows up after disassembling a $60k engine from a $150k car, while still in their Mercedes-Benz shop uniform, you’d think the jig would be up without needing to shove their face in it. What hope does the average person have?!
BTW, the transmission is still fine at 160k miles. The control unit adapted out the harsh shift eventually.
In my early 30s, a friend invited me over to her house for dinner. She was around my age, and single. When I arrived with my obligatory bottle of wine, there was another single woman that I was slightly acquainted with, and a man I’d never met before. We had the usual conversations: personal news, politics, literature, theatre/film, funny stories, and so on. The man didn’t seem to get our references or know anything about the topics we were discussing, and most of his interjections were a little surprising. But we did our best to be polite and welcoming and include him.
Anyway, he ended up being the first person to leave, which gave us a chance to ask the hostess how she’d met him and so on. Obviously myself and the mutual acquaintance had the same opinion of him, as she asked the hostess “But why did you invite him?”
“Because he’s SOOO good looking!” she replied.
Myself and the other woman looked at each other. Neither of us had found him good looking, and if he had been, that physical attractiveness had vanished early in the evening, given his lack of intellect. He wasn’t entirely unintelligent, he was a teacher, but he had just no interests or curiosity.
Oof. Where to start. I have a couple to choose from. Most involve my mother in some shape or form. Let’s see.
There was the time she went away for a “visit home”, she immigrated at 18 from the UK. And then about 30 years later I got a call from one of my sisters asking me to sit down as she told me about my “other sister”.
Or there is the time my 63yr old sister (I’m 56) told me that someone has contacted her and introduced me to my 40yr old nephew I had no idea I had.
But I think the one that really hurt came out after my fathers death, which was a year after my mother passed.
They divorced when I was about 4–5yrs old. I believed my mothers account from 1973 till 2018 when my father passed that she was an abused wife who left in the middle of the night with nothing but the clothes on her back.
I didn’t see or hear from her for 2yrs which was explained to me that she had taken that time to get her life together.
She was actually now living with her new husband, David. Ironically in the same town as me for the past year. But I stood by her account.
I fought tooth and nail with my father from the age of 5 to 50. Around 50 my second wife talked me into letting things go for the sake of my daughter. So she could have a relationship with her PopPop.
After he passed away, my brother and I discovered multiple documents, lawyers notes, divorce decree and Private Investigator reports.
She was taking money and cheating on him THE WHOLE TIME.
He NEVER STRUCK HER. And she left ON HER OWN WITH BAGS IN HAND, INCLUDING ALL THE JEWELRY SHE BOUGHT WITH THE STOLEN MONEY.
Both had passed and I couldn’t confront my mother or apologize to my father.
My mother brainwashed me, my brother and my 3 sisters (not the 4th who wasn’t around of course) into believing it was all his doing.
I lived on the streets, spent time in JV, and joined the Army at 17 basically to get away from this man and cause I had nowhere to live etc.
She robbed me of a relationship with my father. And that I can NEVER get back or make up for now.
I was driving to work on the Dulles Toll Road one winter morning when the road was covered in snow and ice. I was in my little Chevy making a steady 40 mph, when an SUV came up riding my bumper and honking at me before pulling into the next lane and roaring past me. 10 minutes later I passed the same SUV on its side in the median.
Another one I didn’t see, but heard about from a friend who did was on another snowy day in northern VA. We had had an unusually strong snowstorm for the area (about 2 feet IIRC), and there was a line-up of traffic trying to get onto the ramp from the Beltway to I-95. A guy in one of those big SUV’s (the kind they show blasting through snowdrifts in the commercials) decided he was going to cut across the triangle of ground between the highway and the ramp – only to get caught up on the guard rail that was buried in the snow! According to my friend, his front end made it over before the weight of the vehicle broke through the snow and stranded him!
By a happy coincidence I recently had lunch in a new and no tipping restaurant. These are currently very rare in this country.
I sat at the bar. There were tent cards everywhere mentioning this and noted that no tipping was the reason for the increased prices. They also mentioned that if you somehow didn’t understand this, any tips you did leave would be donated to a local charity. Finally, when you received the check, there was no tip line available.
So my bartender had been in the business for many years in other tipping restaurants. She was a single Mom with two young children. She was delighted to have employer sponsored health insurance that she could afford and a 401K plan. She was an hourly employee not much different than anywhere else in corporate America.
She mentioned that the non-fluctuating income was a huge advantage for her. If she worked a shift where the bar was dead, she still made a living wage! If she worked a shift that was hugely busy, she did not see the increase in her income but the benefit of a consistent cash flow more than offset this for her.
The restaurant had only been open a few weeks. She mentioned that with the addition of affordable health insurance and a 401K plan, she was easily seeing an increase in her standard of living.
It seems to me it’s clearly a win for her lifestyle but I can easily imagine other situations where the employee might not see the same advantages.
As an infant, I was born with a lump behind my left knee. This was in 1957. I cried and pulled at my leg incessantly, so my mother took me to the small town doctor. By this time the lump was swollen and red. The doctor lanced it and pus and blood went everywhere, according to my mother’s account.
As a result of improper dressing and care, I developed gangrene in the leg. I received so much penicillin that I became allergic to it. I had multiple surgeries to try and remove the infected tissue.
Finally, it was determined that the only option to save my life was to remove my leg.
The bishop of our church called for the church members to join in a special fast and prayer for me. That night before my scheduled surgery, the doctor awoke with an idea to try and save my leg.
He called my parents and explained that he was moving my surgery from the first one to the last one. He put a tube in the thigh and and another in the calf and flushed it with a concoction of medications. He told my mother to watch my toes and if they turned any more purple to have the nurse call him and he would take me into surgery immediately.
The toes did not turn darker and over time, I was able to keep my leg. They did not expect it to be fully functional, however. I actually learned to walk with a cast on my leg. I was, of course, too young to know what this doctor did for me. My parents were not well off and I am pretty sure that the doctor did not receive much if any compensation.
Fast forward 15 years later and I’m a healthy young man, getting good grades and working in a restaurant, with my eye on college and a church mission. I was also racing motorcycles.
I sought out the doctor and made an appointment with him. He was older and nearing retirement. I introduced myself and asked if he remembered my case. He absolutely did. I thanked him for saving my leg and changing the course of my life. He was amazed at how fully functional my leg was.
When I told him that I even raced motorcycles as a hobby, he grinned and said, “Don’t go messing up my good work.”
I have always felt a bit of a responsibility to use my legs to work hard and serve others. I am now in my sixties, raised a good family, (all of whom ride dirt bikes, including some of the grandchildren) lived a wonderful, productive life. To this day, I think of this kind, caring doctor and do my best to not mess up his, and God’s, good work.
“I Just Came To The Realization Why I’m Single” | “That’s WHY Guys Don’t Want To Wife Me Up”
It is very rare when a patient enters an ER with generic complaints such as stomach pain, without ever realizing that something really bad is going on inside. This patient was such a case, in one of the worst peek-and-shriek disasters his surgeons had ever seen.
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He entered the ER with severe abdominal pains, and he could not stop vomiting.
The first thing a doctor thinks in such a case is that this patient might be suffering from an intestinal infection such as gastroenteritis, or food poisoning, but this patient was having so much pain that he needed to be opened up as soon as possible
My girlfriend was still a trainee, and assisted the surgeon who would perform the operation which would not nearly last as long as they had expected.
Because what they found inside was a sentence — a classic “peek-and-shriek.”
The patient’s bowel was black and gangrenous (in other words: dead), and he was having a bowel infarction so severe, that he was beyond saving. So they closed him up again.
He’s softened with age (95) but back then it was bad, really bad.
(And before I launch into this tirade, let me preface by saying he’s an amazing grandfather, who has done a long list of great things for us.)
But here we go:
In the brutal Florida summers, he barely let the air conditioning run, it was cool enough to suffice a desert scorpion.
As a kid, I remember opening my eyes in the middle of the night covered in sweat, sneaking quietly down the hallway, slowly turning the temperature down just a couple of degrees.
And as soon as that house changed temperature so much as a half a degree, it was like an internal alarm went off in grandpas mind, an inner voice that screamed, “Your money is all going away! Hurry!” and within 30 minutes the AC would be right back to 5000 degrees.
We’d take road trips and everyone would have to pile into one hotel room.
He designed a water heater outside that was a long weaving row of pipes that were painted black and heated up in the Florida sun naturally. (Clever, right?)
He kept the ovens outside to cook with to help keep the air conditioning bill down.
He hated it when my mom/grandma ran the hair dryers in the house because it used electricity and heated the house up.
We won’t even talk about what happened if you left the lights on or, god forbid, left a door open.
Go out to eat at a restaurant? Are you crazy?
It was a habit that frustrated family members over the years.
The obvious question was, why is this man so cheap?
It wasn’t like he didn’t have money. He was a PhD, working at NASA. Was it necessary to torture himself (and others)?
The thing that took me a long time to fully appreciate, was that it all stemmed from his childhood.
He grew up in abject poverty in the 1920’s/30’s, as many Americans did following the great depression.
He had 7 brothers and sisters, his father died at a young age, they had one lightbulb that hung from the living room. Luxuries were non-existent. They lived meal-to-meal, paycheck-to-paycheck.
They were known as the poor family. They were dirt, freaking, poor.
Growing up in that world set ‘Survival Mode’ to a permanent on-position. He spent much of his life with a subconscious fear, that a moments lapse in vigilance could bring the onset of poverty again.
But to his credit, he paid for the things in our life that truly mattered, like education.
And he was one of the only siblings in his family who sent money back to his poor mother, from his very first paycheck to the last day of her life.
My grandfather may remind you of someone in your life who frustrates you.
Just remember, changing these behaviors is easier said than done. They often originate from somewhere much deeper in that person’s life.
There is a small family restaurant that I have been going to on and off for 10 years. After I moved I rarely went. Then when I moved back close by I tried to start going more. The owner’s daughter is always working there and I have known her for 10 years. She used to hug me whenever I went there. There have been many complaints about her rudeness including online. I never really had a problem with her because there was always someone else working to keep her balanced. I have seen her have her moments with other people. The last time I went she was rude to me and acted like she didn’t know me. I haven’t and won’t go back because of it. I used to recommend the restaurant to others. Not anymore.
There is a real grease spoon in Orlando, Florida on West Colonial called Mr. Quick. That place has been around since the 1970’s and looks like it hasn’t been updated or cleaned since then. They are like Waffle House except cheaper and not as classy. When me and my husband first got together I took him there because Waffle House was too busy. The waitress approached our table and goes, “Watcha yall want.” like we were bothering her by waiting on us. She never refilled my husband’s coffee. Finally, he asked if he could have a refill. The waitress goes, “I guess” and sighs while getting the coffee. When he wanted another refill he waited and after not wanting to wait and deal with her again he went behind the counter and got his own refill. The waitress tells him you can’t go back there sir! Obviously, we never went back. We still talk about it though.
It wasn’t exactly shoplifting, but very similar. A guy was working for the Canadian mint. His job was to melt down gold from jewelry, coins and ore that the mint bought, and refine it, so it could be used to make gold coins.
When he had purified it to 99.9 percent, or so he used a ladle to scoop a load of gold out, about the size of a golf ball, and assay it , they called it a puck of gold. He was supposed to dump the puck back into the vat.
Instead they found Vaseline and rubber gloves in his locker. There were no cameras in the locker room or the refining room. He never admitted any wrong doing, so it’s all circumstancial evidence.
The scanners at the mint, were notorious for going off, for no reason, and then the guards would do a scan with hand wands, that weren’t powerful enough to detect something in a body cavity.
He sold 17 pucks, and had 4 more in his house when he was investigated. For a total of 21, but he set off the scanner 28 times. Which is why he thought he could get away with it.
He sold each puck to a gold buyer for between $7000–8000 and then took the check to the bank and transferred the money to Jamaica, to build a house. This way he stayed below the $10,000 limit, that would trigger an investigation.
The gold buyer never questioned where he got solid gold pucks from.
For the first 16 times the bank never questioned why he was sending so much money out of the country.
Then to make sure he wasn’t being scammed into sending money to someone fraudulently, the teller asked him about it. He had presented his government picture ID from the mint, as his ID, and then told her he was cashing checks from selling gold, and sending money to his parents to rebuild a house.
The teller wasn’t a dummy, a guy who works for the mint, is selling gold, and transferring the money out of the country.
She called the cops.
So he took molten gold, shaped it into a smooth puck, inserted it with Vaseline up his rectum, and conned his way past security.
Thats a jaw dropping form of sneaking something out of a business.
We went on a long driving trip this summer, starting in Vancouver and then through the US. As we went north, the first possible Alaska entry is Hyder, which is a bit off the normal route to Alcan and Alaska proper. While in this (VERY small) town, we stopped at a little wildlife viewing area and saw some beavers building a dam.
As we got back in the car, a large gray industrial-looking truck pulled up next to us, and a young man and woman got out. It had German license plates and two bikes on the back. I thought it was strange to see a truck with German plates in southern Alaska, especially what looked like a construction truck. I didn’t think much more about it. (Map is for context.)
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About a week later, having driven through Skagway, Yukon, and then south to Wrangell-St Elias, to Denali, and Fairbanks (the point being that we drove a LONG way over about a week), we started driving the Dalton Highway up to Deadhorse. This is a route that rental companies won’t let you drive; you have to have your own car. The drive was 2 days north. After seeing the Arctic Ocean (this requires a tour and 24 hours notice, in case you ever think about going), we started back south through the Atigun Pass in the Brooks Range. Again, this is for context about how far we drove and how remote we were.
Pulling into a parking lot at the top of the pass we see… a large gray industrial-looking truck with German plates and two bikes on the back. Wow, we thought, that’s a coincidence. But it made sense that if you’re really going to make a trip and have the time to do it, the Dalton is a great journey. Still, seeing the truck again after such a distance was pretty cool. *Note: this is a very dangerous road that requires a solid vehicle and 1000 miles round trip of careful attention to the road. Worth the trip, but be warned.
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We went south to Vancouver and stayed there for a week while we went to a wedding. Then we headed south to San Diego through all of the National Parks in California, then back north to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon, through Utah, Colorado, back across Utah to Idaho and finally to Wyoming. (This was several thousand miles and several weeks. You might see where this is going.)
Driving through Yellowstone, now at least 5 weeks after leaving Deadhorse, I’m driving (slowly, there was a herd of bison) along the eastern part of the loop in Yellowstone…
…and we passed a large gray industrial-looking truck with German plates and two bikes on the back. What are the odds?
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(I noted the distances not to brag or anything, but to show that we went on a very long drive across thousands of miles over many, many weeks, and saw the same unique truck three different times.)
You never know where life will take you. If you ever have the opportunity to really travel, don’t wait. We slept in the car to save on hotels, ate sandwiches that we made ourselves and did what we could to save money, but it was the trip of a lifetime.
And if you ever see a gray industrial-looking truck with German plates and two bikes on the back, wave hi to them for us!
I was working for a company called Alteon, a wholly-owned subsidiary of Boeing, which provided training on Boeing’s commercial aircraft — flight, maintenance, and cabin crew (a.k.a., flight attendants). One day the ‘device manager’ (the person in charge of the full-flight simulators) offered several of us time in one of the simulators. Of course, we all hopped on it!
During her stint as ‘pilot’, one of our group had a bit of difficulty with the ‘landing’; on the first pass, she came in too hot and fast, so the device manager aborted the landing, and had me (I was sitting in the ‘instructor’s’ seat, and had access to the simulator’s controls) reset the simulation.
On the second attempt, she came in hard; the simulater bounced twice, knocked the phone off its hook, and even threw me out of my seat! (I had neglected to fasten my seatbelt; hey, it was only a simulator, right?)
After the session, as we were heading back to our respective jobs, I asked the device manager, “On that one hard landing, in a real-world scenario, would we have walked away from it?”
He told me, “Oh, yeah. The device has a way of indicating a crash, and no crash was indicated. It may have blown a few tires, but that’s about all.” And then he told me this story:
“There was a pilot, for an airline I would rather not name, who once made just one of those strut-bottoming landings that could jar your tooth-fillings loose.
“He pulled up to the gate, and as per company policy, left the cockpit to bid the passengers goodbye.
“One passenger, a little old lady, walking with the aid of a a cane, shuffled up the aisle to the exit. When she got to the front of the plane, she fixed the pilot with a steely glare and asked him, ‘Young man, did you land this airplane…, or were we shot down?’”
It’s been nearly fifteen years, and I still laugh!
So, back in 2014, there was this crazy incident in Venice, California. Melora Rivera found herself face-to-face with a total intruder trying to break into her house. Talk about terrifying! But she didn’t panic. Nope, she jumped into action and made a daring escape by climbing onto her roof. And that’s when the infamous photo was taken.
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Melora Rivera
Imagine this: the front door gets kicked in, and Rivera’s instincts kick into overdrive. She jumps out of bed, throws on a flannel shirt, and dials the cops on her cell phone. But get this, the intruder follows her onto the roof!
So here she is, on the roof, weighing her options. She quickly realizes that climbing down directly is not the smartest move because, well, it’s a long way down. With her safety at stake, she decides to wait anxiously for the police to come to the rescue.
And boy, did they. The police showed up in just two minutes, but when they arrived, they only saw Rivera on the roof. They were worried about who she really was. And Rivera, she was terrified that the intruder might accidentally end up where she was hiding.
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AP Photo/Venice311.org, Alex Thompson
Thankfully, the Los Angeles Fire Department stepped in and saved the day. They used a ladder to safely get Rivera off the roof. Meanwhile, the police were able to convince the intruder, later identified as Christian Hicks, to surrender. He got slapped with burglary charges real quick.
But the craziest part? Rivera’s neighbors were there witnessing the whole thing go down. They whipped out their cell phones and snapped photos and videos from every angle. You’ve got Rivera huddling under an eave, phone to her ear, while the intruder lurks just above. And then there are the cops with guns drawn, ready to protect Rivera from any harm.
Talk about a wild day in Venice!
Scott Ritter: “Houthi’s have us beat.. We have played ourselves and will FAIL due to INCOMPETENCE!”
Once upon a time, in the quaint little town that could be any town, there lived a woman named Jane and her husband, Tom. Jane was known for her quick wit and a tongue that could be as sharp as a razor blade, especially when her patience was tested.
One day, after a particularly long and stressful week, Jane and Tom found themselves embroiled in one of those arguments that couples often have, about something so trivial neither could later remember what sparked it. The air in their cozy living room was thick with unspoken frustrations and the remnants of past disagreements.
As the argument escalated, Tom, red-faced and exasperated, blurted out, “Why can’t you just let this go?”
In that moment, Jane, with a cool and steady voice that belied the storm of emotions inside her, replied, “Because sometimes, dear, I wonder if I made a mistake marrying you.”
The room fell silent. The weight of those words hung in the air like a thick fog, and Jane immediately regretted them. It was as if time had stopped, and she could see the hurt in Tom’s eyes, a hurt that echoed a fear buried deep in his heart.
Though they made up later, and Jane apologized profusely, those words became like a tiny crack in the vase of their marriage. Invisible most days, but a reminder that some words, once spoken, can never be fully taken back. They both learned that in the tapestry of marriage, woven with threads of love, trust, and respect, it’s often the words left unsaid that hold the most power.
My police officer husband (he’s since retired) and his partner met me, our son and his partner’s wife and children at McDonald’s one night for dinner. Our kids were playing in the playland. My son was about 5 or 6 at the time. We heard my son crying and looked up to see another child had pinned my son in a chokehold as he was coming out of the slide and was punching him in the face.
I stood up and said “Excuse me. We do not play like that.” and sat back down and we continued to eat. Suddenly “BIG MAMA” came storming into the play area and started screaming at me for being a racist bitch. We are white; she and her children black. I simply explained what had happened and that I hadn’t said anything about race.
She continued to scream and cuss at me. My husband stood up and said “Ma’am, your son was belting our kid in the face.”. She started screaming at him then claiming he was a “racist pig” and that she wanted to see his supervisor. He had done nothing as a police officer.
We wound up leaving because she wouldn’t shut up. About 2 weeks later, we tried the play date/dinner again, but, walked in to find them there. She immediately stood up and we just left.
Many years ago we had a couple adult brothers who lived in a house in our town. We’ll call them Donald and Ronald. They liked to drink and they liked to play with guns. They had the combined IQ of a house plant, but Ronald was just a little brighter than Donald.
On TWO occasions (about a year apart) we had to evacuate the adjacent neighborhood because these two decided it would be fun to start shooting in the air from their open windows.
We had to treat these situations as barricaded subject calls. We could not assume they wouldn’t shoot at us.
So we established inner and outer perimeters and tried to make telephone contact with them.
On both occasions (after several hours of negotiations) we were able to get them to surrender without anybody getting hurt, but the second time was a little hairier than the first one. They had friends involved as guests and they added an extra unknown factor we had to deal with. It was also rumored that a child was in the house, but this turned out to be false.
The first time they were charged with various misdemeanors. Since we could not prove they caused any damage to homes or other property we were unable to secure more serious charges. The second time we could. Both times their guns were confiscated.
I was the negotiator who spent several hours on each occasion trying to get them to come outside so we could peacefully resolve the situation. By the second time, they were on a first name basis with me.
The second incident was treated a little less patiently than the first one. About 90 minutes after the shots from inside the house stopped, we did something we chose not to do on the first occasion: we cut off the electricity inside the house. Within a half hour of cutting the electricity they surrendered and were taken into custody.
I was in the station about an hour after they were taken into custody. One of the officers who was working on booking and charging the brothers came into my office and told me they wanted to speak to me in person, so I went back to the holding cell area.
Donald said, “Bruno, what the f***, man. You shut off our electricity?? You didn’t do that last time.”
I said, “You’re right, Donald. We didn’t do it last time. But this time you guys brought it to a new level, and so we brought it to a new level. Don’t do this again.”
“Well, what if we do??”
“Then we will turn off your oxygen.”
“You can do that???”
I just walked away.
Soon after this incident the brothers sold the house and moved out of town.
Don’t worry you will soon know. But by bit China will take down the Wall Street. It has taken down GM and Ford, AIA and Apple, China has the most capital. China in time will have the most investor. China is far more responsible fiscally and monetarily than the U.S. what make you think U.S. start ups and giants don’t want to cash in there?
It is a matter of time. Now China starts the first salvo to answer to Donald Trump. He don’t want Chinese companies to be listed in NYSE, China says don’t worry. We won’t. China wants all Chinese companies to delist within a decade! Let us see who lose more!
It wasn’t me, but a very good friend of mine. Her mother was very abusive to her and her brothers throughout their childhoods. They all left home in their teens as soon as they were able to get their first jobs. After many years of no contact, the mother died and was cremated. Two years later, no one had come to collect the remains. The crematorium contacted all the children. The brothers refused to have any involvement. The crematorium staff made my friend feel so guilty, her and her husband drove 7 hours to the city where her mother had died to collect the ashes. On the drive home my friend started crying and said she didn’t want the ashes. She said they would just be a painful reminder of all the years of abuse. Without a word, the husband pulled the car over, grabbed the urn, walked down an embankment and threw the ashes into a river. My friend laughed and said she had never felt as loved as she did at that moment. The mother couldn’t swim and was terrified of water.
“Please, dear God, don’t let it come down to another Biden/Trump face-off in the next election.”
Some of my liberal friends and family members, and liberal Quorans whom I follow and respect, have expressed how they think Biden is too old and wish that he would just bow out gracefully. I suspect that those who haven’t said as much have been thinking it.
Similarly, while I know that Trump seems to have good polling numbers amongst likely Republican primary voters, I don’t know any Republicans in real life who really like him. I know some who like his policies, particularly on border security, but those same people have expressed disdain for the man himself.
I’m hoping that, once people actually get a chance to vote in the primaries, the polls will be proven wrong about how much support Trump really has. Perhaps people are lying to the pollsters out of spite for the mainstream media. Or, maybe one of Trump’s competitors in the primary will gain momentum in the early primaries, and the “please, not Trump” Republican support will all go towards that one candidate, and it will be enough to make Trump not the nominee.
Most of my liberal friends and relatives didn’t support Biden in the last election, but they voted for him out of hatred for Trump. It doesn’t really matter how they vote, here in Illinois, since the Democrat always wins here, but I wonder if that hatred of Trump will be enough to get Biden elected again in states where there is a real competition.
I predict that, should it come down to Trump/Biden again, most people won’t be voting for either of them, so much as voting against the other person (by voting for the only other person on the ballot who can actually beat them). They will dutifully vote for Trump or Biden, while wishing they didn’t have to, then spend the next four years complaining about the exact things they were warned would happen should that person get elected.
Illinois primaries too late, and is too solidly blue, for my presidential vote to matter, so I’m off the hook as far as stressing over it too much. I’m just along for the ride.
But I think that almost anyone who isn’t Trump or Biden, who ends up as the nominee for the Republicans or Democrats, could easily win the election. Their presence on the ballot would be welcome news to voters from both parties.
I think that Nikki Haley, in particular, would have the easiest pathway to victory, should she end up the Republican nominee, particularly if she were running against Biden. The liberals in my life who go through life with demographic lenses clouding their views on everything would quietly support Haley, just because of her gender and race, and not for any party or policies she supported. That, plus the core Republican support the nominee will get anyway, would win Haley most of the swing states, I suspect.
Chinas policies are CRISP and their origin and implementation route is flawless
Everyone knows who proposed the policies and who implemented them
If a policy succeeds, the persons who implemented them get promotions and responsibility and the persons who proposed them get more traction within the CPC
If a policy fails, the persons who implemented them are if not punished, at least put in a doghouse and forgotten with their careers stagnating until a few of them are lucky enough to get a second chance
The persons who proposed the policies will also remain where they are and silently in the next Congress retire or go into insignificance
It’s a beautiful system running on RESULTS, RESULTS and always RESULTS
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Take the floods of 2023
41 City officials faced the wrath for the City being flooded for 36 hours (Flooded means water reaching above 3 inches on Public Roads and 1 1/2 inches in Airports)
That is Accountability
They will be replaced and their careers will taper off.
Meanwhile this man, who planned ahead and saved at least 6% of Chinas crops from being destroyed and rather was responsible for a bumper crop
He will be rewarded suitably
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Xi Jingping almost never makes policies
Those days for him are done
So are other members of the standing Committee
He now listens to his people, his advisors and asks them to handle things
If things go well, they get promotion and traction
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Wang Yi handled his job beautifully and got rewarded with a Politburo appointment
Now he is the Top dog controlling all foreign policy within the Party
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Zhao Lijian was perceived as not doing his job well enough
He was promoted but his new job has maybe 25% of the power he once held
It’s always results
If China gets over 5% GDP growth this year, that’s good for everyone and they did ok
If China manages more than that, that’s better than expected and there will be promotions
If China does worse, those officials will soon be forgotten and stagnate and deputed to insignificant errands
The Western Countries & other democracies like India don’t have such a flawless system
Here everyone rushes to take credit for success and everyone tries to blame others for failure
As a result a lot of mediocre people occupy exalted positions of power merely because of political maneuvering or influence rather than ability and talent
In China, 11 people in the Politburo & Central Committee are people who supported Li Keiqang over Xi Jingping in 2012
No issues
In US, would Biden hire Joseph D Kernan or Trey Gowdy or Brent Mcintosh?
Nopes
They are highly able Individuals but they will be ignored because of politics and because they were Trump appointments
Thus as usual every decision is laced with more than ability and merit and accountability
It’s essentially ONE PARTY MERITOCRACY VS DEMOCRACY.
China’s MILITARY PLAN To Bring US To Knees With A Click Of Button
So my six-year-olds father and I went to a dance competition that she was competing in. And there was obviously that one “dance mom” who has all the t-shirts and tote bags with the studio’s name on it and thinks their child is the best.
Anyway, my daughter finished her amazing solo and finished the group dance too. Let’s call this “dance mom” figure “Entitled Mom.”
So after all the dances came awards and my daughter won first place for solos in her division (yay!). EM’s daughter won eighth and she was NOT having it. She started screaming in the halls like: “THE JUDGES ARE SO BLIND!”, “MY DAUGHTER SHOULD BE IN FIRST NOT THAT KID (my kid)”, “I DIDNT KNOW THIS WAS A COMPETITION FOR JUDGES TO SHOW OFF HOW IDIOTIC THEY ARE!” etc.
And of course, some staff told her to calm down, blah blah blah.
Then the EM came up to my kid and put her finger in this tiny six-year-old’s face and said “You did not deserve this trophy. Go home and quit because I bet this was your first win only because the judges can’t see real talent.” And this *female dog* had the audacity to grab the trophy out of my kid’s hand and throw it across the room.
I went OFF. I took this lady bag and threw that across the room. Not my proudest moment but yeah I was pissed.
In the end, she literally told my daughter to quit and my kid went home instead of happy and proud of herself, crying her eyes out because of that lady. The studio that EM’s kid was representing sent me an email the next day apologizing and that EM was not allowed to attend any competitions that her kid was going to representing that studio. We also got a new trophy because when EM thew it the top broke into pieces.
This happened to me about 20 years ago when I still lived in Alabama. I needed a little cash so I drove to the my bank to pick some up during business hours. This was quite a few years before any of our local banks had automated tellers.
I used the drive-thru where I wrote a personal check to “cash” for 50 dollars, if I remember correctly. I then gave the check and my identification, my passport as I had lost my drivers license a couple days before, to the teller.
The teller, let’s call her Charlotte, takes my passport looks at it and, over the intercom, says to me, as though very probably dealing with an idiot, “Sir, I’m gonna need a valid photo identification. I don’t even know what this here is.” (Imagine Dolly Parton doing a parody of her own southern accent).
I tried my best not to seem a condescending prick and replied “ That’s my passport issued by the United States Department of State. I can assure you that it is a valid form of photo identification. Just look at it. There’s a U.S. Flag and a picture of an bald eagle and everything.”
“Well, be that as it may I’m gonna need a drivers license or somethin’ otherwise I can’t give you no cash.” she insists.
“What you have there is most definitely SOMETHING. Perhaps you should confer with one of your colleagues or even a manager.” I suggest.
“Betty, can you come over here and look at this?” she asks of one of her colleagues. “This gentleman claims that this is A VALID PHOTO IDENTIFICATION. Do you even know what this is?”.
Betty looks at me and says “Sir, we’re gonna need a valid form of photo identification like a drivers license or somethin’.”
I give the classic 2 handed facepalm and, after a long suffering sigh, I say “It’s a passport. It’s issued by the United States Government to U.S. Citizens who generally use them to travel abroad and it is definitely a valid government issued photo ID.”
By this time a third teller, let’s call him Carl, is involved “I think it’s one of those things you use to go to foreign country or somethin’.” he says to Charlotte and Betty. He looks at me “Sir this is a bank. It ain’t no airport. We’re going to need a valid photo identification like a drivers license or somethin’.”
At this point I’m no longer trying to avoid being a condescending prick when I ask “Can one of you ignorant savages fetch a manager? Preferably one that’s traveled beyond the borders of the great state of Alabama.”
After a round of “Well I never’s!” Betty takes of in a huff to retrieve the bank manager. When he arrives Charlotte looks at me smugly and says “Bill, this gentleman wants withdraw cash but, he doesn’t have valid photo identification, he only has THIS!” and with this she presents Bill, the bank manager, with my passport.
Bill looks at me sheepishly and there is an audible click as the intercom shuts off. Because of this I didn’t here exactly what bill said to Charlotte, Betty, and Carl but judging from their body language and the way their eyes all drifted downward I would guess it was none to kind. Then a click as the intercom springs back to life and Bill says “Please allow me to apologize Mr. Estes I promise you that nothing like this will ever happen again. Would 2 twenty’s and a ten be o.k.?”.
The last things we said were “Love you, man. Goodnight” before he had to go away for a month.
He came back and blocked my number, blocked me on social media, and effectively erased me from his life.
No warning.
No explanation.
No goodbye.
10+ years of friendship thrown in the trash.
It’s been 7 months, and I still don’t know why.
And I feel the loss in my chest and my body and deep in my bones. Every fucking day of my life.
Not giving someone any sense of closure is one of the cruelest things you could do to another person.
I wouldn’t wish this on anyone.
Edit to add:
It’s been 2 years now, and it still fucking hurts an unimaginable amount.
Highly irritated at everyone who has ever said “Time heals all wounds.”
No. It fucking. Does not.
Edit to add:
Coming in on 3 years soon, and the pain has dulled into what can best be described as a painful annoyance.
Perfect analogy?
Have you ever burned the ever-living-shit out of your arm or hand? It hurts for so long.
Taking a hot shower is agony. Putting on a shirt is a bitch. Honestly, just touching it is awful.
Then it starts to scab over. It’s very sore still, but less excruciatingly so. If you bump it on something, it’s rough. You’ll probably let out a loud yelp. But it’s healing.
And then the scab begins to flake off. The pain is mild, but the itching is constant. If you poke it hard, it’s certainly not going to feel good, so you try not to poke it.
It’s a different kind of problem, and you really just wish you hadn’t burned yourself in the first place.
This is where I’m at now, three years later.
It’s mild pain, paired with utter annoyance.
And it’s leaving a hell of a scar.
Edit to Add:
It’s been 5 years now.
To my former Self: The wound is healed, my darling! And the scar is so very important. Thank you for honoring our pain with the attention it deserved. To think! We could have become bitter and cold, but instead we are blossoming and warm and eager to learn again.
And to my original edit: No, you are right, time does not heal all wounds. It rebuilds YOU around them.
Closure isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Growth, however? Utterly priceless.
Moody is a western and U.S. rating agency. It works for the US government and owned by the neocons. What is says is bird poo. Looking or listening to Moody’s is no different from checking Jews status from a Nazi perspective!
This is the same agency that gives AAA rating to the U.S. economy! The one that could not increase the real standard of living since 1960. That is 60 years ago. Moody’s depend on their mood ! Or when their pay master tell them what to grade!
These are the agencies thss as t has to go in the new world order. One don’t get your cronies to rate you!
It’s a lot of work – I’ve built maybe a dozen, and it always takes 3–4 hours. I’ve built them in Sierra and Cascades snow, and it’s a huge amount of work to tramp down the snow, churning the layers of snowfall so there aren’t weak spots in your bricks…
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Cutting the bricks with an ice saw is neat – but the blocks (2′ x 1.5′ x 1′) are really heavy – that’s about 20 gallons of packed snow/ice, perhaps 30–50 pounds heavy.
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You build up in a spiral – so each block leans in a little more than the previous one, and each is supported by touching the corner of the previous block. You don’t try to build a solid structure – just a skeletal framework of blocks touching each other with triangular holes between.
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The last pieces are hard to place, since you have to lean over a somewhat unstable structure without tipping it in. If you aren’t diligent, it tends to be taller than a half-sphere, and then it’s nearly impossible to place the keystone block.
When the frame is done, you fill the holes with packed snow, which makes the structure really solid and robust enough to climb up and stand atop.
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When the dome is done, then you can dig down and create an entrance tunnel. It’s important that the tunnel is lower than the sleeping platform, because otherwise the warm air trapped in the dome all just blows away.
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The entrance tunnel is going to be tight – the smaller the hole, the warmer the structure, and it’s a lot of work to make the tunnel big anyway. This is not a structure for the claustrophobic!
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From inside, you can really see the structure – the gaps between the blocks that you packed with snow are much less dense than the blocks.
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And at night, a flashlight really shines through the structure.
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You can build a lot of supplementary structures with ice-blocks to make comfortable camp. Be sure to plant skis and packs upright – the night after I took this picture, we had 3–4 feet of new snow, and only the tips of the skis were showing. This time, we didn’t have to go digging…. By the way, you keep your water bottles and boots inside your sleeping bag, otherwise they will likely freeze. Frozen boots are a serious problem if you are in the wilderness.
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Inside, you want to ventilate so the temperature stays a little below freezing – you don’t want it dripping on you. But it’s still much warmer than outside overnight. It’s also utterly silent. I’ve slept through some amazing storms without hearing a thing.
And you need some really good sleeping pads – most of the cold comes up from the sleeping platform, not from the cold air. It’s worth spending some time to make sure the sleeping platform is totally flat and level, because ice is slippery, and if it’s not flat, you’ll spend all night sliding towards the tunnel and trying to scoot back, which isn’t very restful.
My blood type is KFC positive and even I am finding it hard to eat it these days.
On top of the product changing, most likely to make more money, the service has deteriorated terribly, at least the one closest to me.
Every time I would order they would get it wrong. It was so bad it was almost like they did it deliberately.
One day, about three years ago now, after having enough of being given the wrong food, I decided to go in to the store in person and complain.
Surprisingly, but not really given how bad this store is, there was a lady at the counter complaining about exactly the same things I was going to complain about. She even said, like me, she came down especially to make the complaint in person.
I could tell from the body language that the 12 year old store manager couldn’t care less.
Another time I went there at lunch time to buy chicken (Kentucky Fried Chicken – that is apparently what they sell!) but they had none! None! Literally no chicken but I could get a burger if I wanted. I guess you let a store be run by children and this is bound to happen.
As I walked out empty-handed, two police officers were walking in. I said to them, “Good! You’re here to arrest them for running out of chicken!?”
They asked me if the store was indeed out and so they turned around and left too but did say something along the lines of, “Yes we should be able to arrest them. How could KFC run out of chicken at lunchtime?”
My thoughts exactly! The Colonel would be turning in his bucket in disgust!
Ma Po Tofu (Ma Po Dofu)
A famous Szechuan recipe – the name Ma Po Tofu is roughly translated as “pockmarked grandmother bean curd,” named for the old woman who supposedly invented the dish.
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Ingredients
Tofu
3 cakes regular tofu (medium firmness)
1/4 pound ground pork
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon salted black beans
1 tablespoon chili paste
3 tablespoons stock (chicken broth)
1 leek or 3 green onions
Freshly ground Szechuan pepper
Marinade
1 1/2 tablespoons tapioca starch
2 tablespoon soy sauce
Mixture
1 tablespoon cornstarch
2 tablespoons water
2 tablespoons soy sauce
Oil for stir-frying
Instructions
Mix marinade ingredients . Marinate pork for about 20 minutes.
Cut the bean curd into 1/2 inch (1 cm) square cubes, and blanch (drop into boiling water) for 2 – 3 minutes. Remove from boiling water and drain.
Chop leeks or green onions into short lengths.
Heat wok and add oil. When oil is ready, add the marinated pork. Stir-fry pork until the color darkens. Add salt and stir. Add the salted black beans. Mash the beans with a cooking ladle until they blend in well with the meat. Add the chili paste, then the stock, bean curd, and leek or green onions.
Turn down the heat. Cook for 3 – 4 minutes.
While cooking, mix cornstarch, water and soy sauce together. Add to wok and stir gently.
I left my trash can out 5 hours past when I was supposed to bring it in. I hadn’t brought it in because my arms were full of groceries and I had just returned from a full day of working. I was so burned out from work and shopping I didn’t even make it to my bedroom; I fell asleep on the couch. Next morning I get a call from the hoa saying that someone complained about the garbage cans being outside longer than allowed. I had literally brought the can in at 5 am so that it wouldn’t inconvenience people. Apparently that wasn’t good enough, and it had to have been in the night before. Even though it was the first time that I had left it out, they still fined me $200. I asked 1. How did they know the can was mine? 2. When was the complaint filed, since I had brought my can in at the crack of dawn. They refused to answer either of those questions.
Another incident with the SAME HOA really made my blood boil. They claimed my sweet wheaten terrier was terrorizing the neighborhood because he would like to look out of a second story window and occasionally bark at another dog passing by. Please note that this dog is 40 pounds and in no way shape or form, able to get out of the building with out human assistance. The hoa said that he was a threat to the neighborhood and well over 40 pounds, the weight limit that they imposed for dogs. I told them that he was exactly 40 pounds, and showed vet records to prove it, and that even if he barks at a dog passing by, humans can’t hear it from the street because the windows are closed! Hoa didn’t care. Fined me $400 and said for every new complaint they would double it. They’ve doubled it 3 times. No proof of my dog harassing anyone. Just their word versus mine. The hoa literally gave me the choice of debarking my dog or putting a bark collar on him; both of which are cruel. My immediate neighbors have no problem with him barking if they ring a doorbell or knock on the door because that’s what watch dogs do, so I’m honestly not sure who is filing complaints against me. Once I save up enough for a new place, I will never be in a hoa again.
Not a Realtor but a home inspector for mortgage companies. Went to inspect a mobile home that was in process of being repossessed. House was supposed to be empty. my job was to take pics, insure elec and water was off, house was vacant and there was a clear path for the truck to remove the house the following week. When i got here, the home was not vacant. Living in the home was a woman and her 4 hogs. yes, hogs, giant filthy hogs. The walls were literally black about 3 feet up the walls. the floors were inches thick in hog poop. The bathtub was FULL of dog/hog poop. The house was only 2 years old! this woman was sleeping in a recliner chair in the middle of her living room. There was also a multitude of dogs. She started crying and said she had to move to the hog pen in her back yard if we took the house. She dragged her chair outside and called her hogs and dogs and went into the back yard. When i stepped back there to take pics of the back of the house i could see her in a 3 sided shack, in her recliner. I had to take many pics and after every room i would run outside and take breaths of fresh air. The stench was overpowering. When I was done and went back to my car, where my husband was waiting, as he had “rode along” , I took off my shoes and threw them in the trash and then got in the car. We got about 1/4 mile and husband make me pull over and take off my clothes. he gave me his shirt to drive in and we threw away my clothes too. I reported to the company that the house was unrenewable and they should just write it off and let her keep it. I dont know what they actually did.
I got a letter in the post from a private parking company telling me I had overstayed by 10 minutes. They wanted £60, or £100 if I didn’t pay immediately.
Where I live, only the driver is liable for private parking charges, and I was at the dentist elsewhere at the time, so I appealed to the parking company telling them I was not the driver and could not have been because I had an appointment somewhere else at the time.
I heard nothing for a while so thought that was it, but then suddenly I got a demand for £100. I wrote saying that I had appealed already, restating my case. They told me they had no record of my appeal, and that now I was too late to appeal, so I owed £100.
I wrote to them following their complaints procedure, stating they had lost my appeal, and restating my case. They replied, “tough luck”. I wrote asking if that was the end of their complaints procedure. They replied I was out of time to appeal.
Letters now started coming thick and fast from them. The charge somehow escalated to £180, and the letters got quite aggressive, talking about court action, credit ratings and supreme court verdicts about parking. To be honest, they were quite stressful.
I put them on notice that the letters were causing me stress, and that under the data protection act I had the right for my personal data to be stored correctly. The particular item I wished to be stored correctly was that I was not the driver. Additionally, my data could only be used for appropriate purposes, and as I was not the driver, pursuing me for a parking charge was no longer an appropriate purpose now I had appraised them of the facts.
Letters continued.
The statute of limitations for parking charges is six years, and I had no desire to keep getting stressful letters for this time. Only one course of action seemed appropriate, so I filed a claim against them for data protection violations.
My distant cousin was marrying this girl. The girl’s family were investing a huge sum. But days before final confirmation, the girl calls him and reveals what her parents were hiding.
She fearlessly discloses, she was having neurological problems since she met with a car accident as there was a bleeding in her brain at that time.
That really hurt my cousin(Deepak, name changed). But as much as he wanted to get away, her honesty only polarised him in the direction his mind definitely didn’t.
It was a conundrum that the girl, though through arrange-marriage only, but he had started loving, should he leave her because she told the truth. If she wouldn’t have, then he would have surely married her.
He thought what kind of justice it would be. Marry the untrue but ditch the true. He consulted doctors and got a positive reply that her condition could be well tackled.
He calls her and says, whatever happens, we face it together. I’ll marry you and always be by your side. He got the reply which distorted him from within into the fragments he could never reassemble.
The girl said, “Don’t you get it idiot, I have a boyfriend, my parents are irritating me. I don’t want to be a disobedient girl in their world. Just say No and let me marry my lover.”
First China locked down very strictly as China like all nation do not enough is known about Covid -19 yet and no known cure or prevention is yet to be available.I believed the Chinese authorities saves at least 10 million deaths if not for their timely and strong actions.
Next while the U.S. and many western nations were bickering and could not lock down like China after condemning China on the so call “draconian” measures. And as a result the infections extrapolate hundreds of fold compared to China. So while China opened up strategically to use the time to overtook the west in many technological fields while the west were finally forced into lock down due to huge deaths!
So while the Chinese work and progress the western nation were paralyse. Chinese vaccines were more effective than the western ones. And it has less side effect. The rapid and effective vaccination of 1.4 billion probably save a hundred million infections and millions of life.
China being responsible and careful watch, study and understand that the latest strains of Covid had become a weak strain that it is time for China to eased up. That they did after being sure that opening up fully will mean full infections. And indeed that happened but without deaths and long infections.
To me and to the world China handled the Covid pandemic the most effectively and most successfully of all nations. To me the western so call liberal democracy failed phenomenally. And while the west were selfishly profiteering from the vaccine, China spread their goodwill and share its vaccine throughout the world.
Now that the dust has by and large settled, on the Covid-19 pandemic. China passed the severe test admirably and extremely successful proving that Chinese political system of socialism with Chinese characteristics won the day. All in all it lost 0.5% of what the U.S. lost in life due to Covid-19 the U.S. based on per million citizens.
Final result U.S. with only 330 million population lose 1,190,000 life while Chin with 1.4 billion population lose less than 6000 life! During the 3 years of Covid-19 ravage from 2020–2022 China grew close to 4 times the U.S. growth! Meanwhile the U.S. life expectancy felled below China for the first time in 2021 and by end of the 2022 Chinese people on average out live the US by 2 full years!
For me the Chinese did just right. Compared to the U.S. that handled it worst that many 3rd world nation.
Interesting. I had a good friend who had a good sales job. He was a good earner for the company and a stellar employer. He had two children, and of course needed the job to support his family. He worked hard and was a nice guy. He had a company car due to the fact that he drove a lot.
One day he got called into the office and was fired. I can’t remember why, but it was a stupid reason. Somehow the new company CEO just didn’t like him and found some bogus reason to get rid of him. I spoke to a few of his company friends later, and they all agreed, he was a great employer and in no way did he deserve to be fired. They told him to clear out his desk and leave, and turn in the keys for his company car. He cleaned out his desk, and politely told them, his car was parked on the street, so he would bring it directly to the front door for them.
He certainly did. He got the car from the street, drove it into the parking lot, and right through the front doors of the company. Completely destroyed the foyer, front entrance, and the car. Then he calmly got out of the car, and said, “Sorry about that everyone, I must have hit the gas by accident.”
Probably cost $200,000 damage. Police arrived and interviewed him. He was apologetic, and explained his shoe got caught on the brake pedal, holding the gas down.
The police didn’t charge him. He was on private property, so it wasn’t an accident on a public roadway.
Here’s the funny thing. The new CEO had decided to start saving money, and ignored calls from his building insurance company. There was no policy to cover the damage.
My friend got a new job rather quickly and got on with his life. He became a legend.
My name is Clara and I have studied and lived in Ningbo for several months. I was an exchange student of University of Nottingham Ningbo and learned a lot of things about China and its people.
In my opinion, there are many things that we have gotten wrong about China. However, I am speaking in my position of spanish woman. I feel like maybe other countries who have a higher rate of ethnicities inside their country can have other points of view. At least, in my country there were many stereotypes among chinese minorities. This is because the only treatment most of them have with chinese people is getting a spring roll in a Chinese restaurant or buying a toy in a chinese owned store. So the only thing known about China is through media. And often media is full of stereotypes and mockery. While countries like Japan and Korea have been lately in the fancy spot, due to their pop culture in general. Chinese is not as keen on exporting its products, even though it’s getting more recognition lately. So people don’t tend to glamourize China and see it as a “developing country” packed with many people and a place to adopt children
After spending some time in China and learning more about its culture and experiencing things with my own eyes, coming back home and hearing those comments that I found even funny before, make me sick and now with the pandemic going on is even more disgusting. “Chinese people are poor” “Chinese Woman must be very unhappy” “They eat everything that moves” “C’mon pose like a chinese” “How was China? I can’t believe you traveled around it must be very dangerous” “Have you dated any chinese? They have small dick, haha” “I don’t have any problems with dating other races but I just don’t like chinese people” and the list goes on. Specially, they tend to considerate everything that is asian related as chinese. Geishas are chinese, K-pop is chinese singers, Anime is chinese cartoons and the list goes on
I have already given up in correcting people’s racism. I am still dealing with mine and some people are simply not willing to change. I have tried to explain to some people that China is far more advanced than Spain. People use things more smartly in all of the levels, from paying to even designing potatoes packages. I have tried to explain that chinese people are always willing to help and chinese younger generations are open to dialogue. I tried to tell them that even my chinese female friends stand in more or less the same social ideals as I have. I have meet straight people, bisexual people, gay people, religious people, atheist people, and so on in China. Each one has it’s own opinions and perspective on life. Nobody is brainwashed. I have also explained that I have never seen bats on a street market or anything similar and that holding back your eyes to mock asian eyes is very racist. I have also tried to explain that China is a very safe place and people are very peaceful and mind their business. And the other racist things such as “I just don’t like chinese people”, I just replied with “Well, I don’t like you either and here we are”.
Star Trek: The Silent Skies | COLORIZED & EXTENDED
I do not have enough time to devote myself to the needs of my little daughter. She (at her age) is 24-7, and I am working multiple jobs and multiple projects. But, you know, I always try to give her priority. So, I have these little events. One of which is an occasional movie with her and myself. I try to do it weekly.
Our time.
Give her momma a break.
So we sit down on the sofa, and watch a movie. Given her age, and my activity schedule, we usually break the movie down into two segments,; the first half on one day, and the the rest on another.
During the movie, we eat a snack. Mostly being a small bag of potato chips, or some crunchy “kid snacks”, and we sit down and watch the movie. I like “American style” Lays (yellow bag) potato chips. We set the bag down, and using scissors, cut a big hole on the side so it forms a kind of disposable tray.
I also make sure that she went to the bathroom before we get started.
Mostly we watched downloaded movies in torrent format, then saved on the drive. I just pull them up and we watch uninterrupted.
The movies that I select are based on things that I want her to concentrate on…
Love
Tenderness, compassion
Independence
Winning over adversity
And so my list is not going to be the average fare that you find on the internet. In fact, you might be surprised in the lack of Disney films (though some are included), and the high concentration of Studio Ghibli films (all in English over dub animation).
Most of the videos you can find easily on the internet with a little bit of sleuthing. Since my child is bilingual (English and Chinese) versions of the movies in these languages are fine, and interchangeable. However, we seek out English versions (say for example) the Japanese movies.
Here’s my preferred videos, in no particular order…
A delightful fantasy that will bring out the child in anyoneHave you ever wished that you could escape your dull and stressful life at school or work and go on a magical adventure of your own, with one of your closest friends at your side, facing all sorts of dangers and villains, and unraveling the mystery of a lost civilization that's just waiting for someone to discover all its secrets?
Even if you're not quite that much of a fantasy-lover, have you ever wished you could simply experience what it's like to be a kid again, and not have a care in the world, for just a couple of hours?
This is exactly what Miyazaki's "Castle in the Sky" is all about.
Pazu, a young but very brave and ambitious engineer, lives a rustic life in a mining town until one day, a girl named Sheeta falls down from the sky like an angel and takes him on a journey to a place far beyond the clouds, while all the while they have pirates and military units hot on their trail.
Simply put, it is just the incredible adventure that every kid dreams of at one point or another, and I can't help but feel my worries melt away every time I see it.
An English dub of this film was produced by the Walt Disney Company in 1999 (originally intended to be released that same year), but wasn’t released on DVD until 2003. The English dub shortens the title to “Castle in the Sky,” removing the word “Laputa,” since it means “the whore” in Spanish.
Cat Woman (2004)
A adult film, not an animation. Talks about a strong woman, transformation, change, righting wrongs, and being a cat.
I want my daughter to be strong, and tough. When we watch this movie, she loves the scenes of cats, and how “cat woman” behaves. For days afterwards, she acts a little cat-like in her walk, talk and playing ball. LOL.
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Patience Phillips (Halle Berry) is a visual artist who is stuck working in the advertising division of a large beauty product manufacturer, Hedare. When she acquires information that could potentially put the company out of business, they try to dispose of her. Because she had previously, unwittingly passed a "test", however, she is saved by a group of cats and transformed into a Catwoman.First, let me note that I loved this film. It's a 10 out of 10 for me. Since I'm well aware that most critics, professional and amateur alike, have trashed this film, I'll focus on why I thought it was so good. Maybe this will help some new viewers consider giving it a look, and possibly encourage some reevaluation by those who have already seen the film.The script immediately drew me into the film, and although I'm male, I identified with Patience. I'm also a visual artist. I have also worked for a company similar to Hedare in the past (although a much smaller and less nefarious beauty product company). I lived in an apartment that looked, on the outside, almost exactly the same as Patience's apartment complex. I also had neighbors who night after night played loud music or television until three or four a.m., while I first tried to block out the sound in any way that I could, then asked politely for them to turn the music down, and so on, until I finally called the cops on them so I could get some sleep.Not that I need to identify with a character to like a film, but that made this one have extra resonance with me in the beginning. Additionally, I was immediately drawn in by the fantastic cinematography and set design. Those kinds of things are just as important in a movie as the story is. Film is a visual and aural artform. The whole package is important. Creative, attractive visuals such as those in Catwoman are part of the package.The script, including the subtexts, worked well for me. Catwoman is a film about discovering identities, peeling away literal and metaphorical masks, and the difference between various stages of public versus private "faces". That the plot is centered on a beauty product manufacturer, then, is perfect. These themes permeate every aspect of the film. For example, Tom Lone (Benjamin Bratt) is continually peeling away the appearances of Patience, throughout the length of the film, and Patience is doing the same for herself--discovering her "true self". I can't think of a scene that doesn't touch on this theme in some way. That's very clever and thought-provoking scriptwriting, and it doesn't end there. There are also themes about femininity cleverly woven through the film, for example.I thought the cast did a fantastic job. Berry is great as a Catwoman, and subtly referenced most of the previous screen Catwomen. She also incorporated a lot of crafty cat-like behavior. I enjoyed the supporting cast, especially Alex Borstein as Patience's friend, Sally. The effects worked well for me, and at times they were also very subtle and clever, such as Catwoman's whip representing a tail in many shots (most of this was achieved via digital effects). I was also impressed with the creativity and different approach of many of the fight scenes. It was nice to see Brazilian martial arts incorporated for a change.Some of the negative criticism probably stems from a kind of purism that is disproportionately found among comic book fans when it comes to comic book films. I'm not much of a purist, but in any event, for anyone paying close attention, you'd note that Berry's character isn't supposed to be Selina Kyle. In the mythology of as presented here, "Catwoman" isn't a lone token, but a type. Patience is just another instantiation of a long line of catwomen. So departures from previous portrayals of Selina Kyle aren't relevant, even if we believed that filmmakers were obligated in some way to previous depictions of the "same" fictional characters (which I don't believe, not being a purist).Catwoman is worth a (second) chance if you can leave some of your preconceptions at the door and if you're prepared to think a bit about a comic book film.
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Epic (2013)
Shrinking to the size of ants, and inhabiting a huge ancient forest; with a mad-scientist father… it’s stuff that kids just eat up. The parade scenes, and all the interplay is mesmerizing to my daughter. She just cannot keep her eyes off it.
2023 02 05 12 09
I didn't think I'd like this movie, but I took my 10-year-old cousin to see it anyway, and I really loved it.I've heard this film compared to everything--FernGully, The Borrowers, Avatar, etc., and while it is another film in that genre and it may be a little cliché, it does create its own fascinating world and tell its story in a unique way. Its themes are heavy (family and belonging, the balance between growth and decay/life and death) but are handled in a successfully child-friendly manner.The animation and design are gorgeous. I love the cute fairy-like flower and leaf people; I even love the design of the goblin-like bad guys (the Boggan). I want to see more stories set in this incredible little world. I also appreciate how much care went into animating that forest.While the characters are pretty familiar, they're still delightful. I thought the choice of voice actors was particularly good. I liked Amanda Seyfried as the main character, M.K. (Mary Katherine), I looooved Colin Farrell as Ronin, and I have to say, I was really pleasantly surprised by Beyonce as Queen Tara. She has a voice just like honey, which fits the queen's sweet, playful personality. Queen Tara emerges as one of my favorite animated characters of all time (and NO, I do not find her voice "too ghetto." I don't appreciate people sniffing down their noses at others that way) because she carried so much of the movie with what turned out to be really minimal role. Plus, I always love to see people of color portrayed positively in children's films.I would definitely take kids to see this again, although it might be too scary for kids younger than 6 and too slow for kids older than 12. Folks have to admit, this is a fun movie to watch, and highly imaginative kids especially will love it.
2023 02 05 12 03
Free Guy (2021)
Just fun. Modern. Interfaces clearly with social media usage by children. Totally relatable, with deep messages…
…strong woman character. Nice guy.
A message of helping others…
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One glance at FREE GUY, the newest big budget offering from Hollywood's favorite action-star/comedy master Ryan Reynolds, will cause most to approach with valid skepticism.
The plot seems like a cheap knockoff of films like Ready Player One or even The Matrix, but made in a crude fashion to make more money at the box office.
The actual movie, however, could not be further from the worst estimates.
Not only is FREE GUY constantly hilarious due to Reynolds and an inventive screenplay, and not only is this possibly the feel-good event of the summer, but it also has a considerable amount of thought put into the meaning of its premise and places a mirror in front of modern-day video game culture.To put it simply, perhaps the main reason this movie comes together so well is because of Ryan Reynolds' constant charisma and hilarity. Most of his dialogue is clearly either written by him or created by him on the spot (I have no idea how he hasn't received a screenwriting credit for this and the Deadpool movies), and the film is that much better as a whole because of it. He also interacts with the other actors in the film very well, including Jodie Comer and Joe Keery, two underrated actors who prove here that they aren't just one-time stars from their respective television shows (Killing Eve and Stranger Things). The ensemble combines to create the most consistently funny movie of 2021 so far.However, this movie isn't just hilarity and crazy antics, although it could easily get by on those aspects alone.
FREE GUY has tons of heart and authenticity despite its virtual reality-based plot, and is about very human emotions such as disillusionment, the feeling of being trapped, and, of course, love.
There are times where the heartwarming aspects of this film resemble a charming romantic comedy and others where it gets so existential that it almost feels like The Truman Show.
It never dives quite as deep as the latter film, but the fact that it even has the guts to include these themes made this easygoing big-budget movie a far better watch for me.
Sure, the last thirty minutes are very cheesy and contain a lot of clichés, but the buildup is so solid that it earns some dumb rom-com moments near the end.FREE GUY is worth going to see because it is one of the few quality films right now that increases one's faith in human nature.
Lately I feel as though I have lost my faith in humanity with all that is happening in the world, so it is refreshing to get a movie that feels confident in the human experience.
Maybe I'm looking too deep into the message of FREE GUY and maybe it was conceived just so Ryan Reynolds could screw around for two hours, but either way the price of admission is well worth it for an amazing time at the theater.
2023 02 05 12 13
Home (2015)
A fun adventure about an independent girl searching for her mother (a big hit with my young daughter) and her cat. It teaches to face face your fears, friendships, promises, and handling adversity. All to a fun soundtrack.
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...there's something so utterly sweet and innocent about Home that it zooms by with an enchanting charm.
When people tell you to calm down by going to your happy place, it probably looks something like this.
It's arguably the most child-centric movie Dreamworks have produced for a few years too.
The adult-targeted humour is kept to a minimum and the physical comedy is amped up to levels that is normally irritating but here works an absolute treat.
Its success can be attributed, in a big way, to the lovable alien Oh (Jim Parsons). A clumsy go-getter with endearing optimism, cuddly colour-changing looks, and amusing speech patterns, Oh steals the spotlight whenever he is on screen, which is about 95% of the time.
As his plucky partner in adventure, Tip, Rihanna's precocious human child is fairly stock standard, whilst Steve Martin's dim-witted leader of Oh's Boov race lands a few hilarious moments among some dull ones. Vibrant, energetic and with an unexpected tear-jerking finale, Home falls on the right side of simple.
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Here’s the Music Video, with scenes from the video.
Howl’s Moving Castle (2004)
In a time of war and falsity here it is a dancing poetry from Japan against all the cruelty and pain.
The moving castle leads us to a magic place where life has a strong value and elderly people have an important role to play. Also in an apparent hostility or in a scarecrow, Hayao Miyazaki gives us the chance of finding a friend and not letting the dream go down.
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The perfect technique and the emotional stream are in complete harmony. If the jury of the Venice Film Festival had been more far-seeing, it would have given a more prestigious prize to this masterpiece.
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Kikis Delivery Service (1989)
One of our favorites. A young girl leaves home with her cat to begin her start as a young witch. Calm, peaceful and enchanting. My little girl loves the imagery, pace and feeling of the movie.
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One of the greatest children’s films ever made
This ranks up there with Pinocchio as the greatest movie for children ever made. One huge problem with most animated children's films are that the plots are so conventional and often contain very 1950s ideals for society that they become detrimental to society.
One's childhood is the most impressionable time in their life, so movies that are directed towards them teach them what places different sorts of people play in society.
There is a very humorous, but also very serious bit of dialogue in a film called The Last Days of Disco where characters discuss the effects Lady and the Tramp could have on little girls, depicting a young female dog falling for a vagabond Tramp.
This, they muse, sets young women up to fall for rebellious men later in life.
This may seem like a humorous idea, but it's absolutely true.
Even good Disney movies give children these standards. As nice as The Little Mermaid or Beauty and the Beast or Cinderella or Snow White and the Seven Dwarves may be, they basically teach that it is the woman's place to grow up and get married, prefereably to a handsome rich man (perhaps the rich part is never said, but both the main male characters in these films do happen to own castles).
The writers of these films probably had no idea that that is what they were doing, but it is.
That is why Pinocchio is the best Disney movie. It is probably the only Disney animated film that I can think of that actually concerns the predicament of its target audience: children. I can hardly think of a single (American) animated film besides it that has a child as its main character (oh, the Jungle Book, which is also excellent).
Then comes Kiki's Delivery Service.
It is an absolutely perfect movie about a young girl out on her own trying to handle the responsibilities of life. It is, in my opinion, the best movie that a child can watch.
And not only will it teach children, it is also marvelously animated, directed, and written.
There is a plethora of great characters, exciting moments, and imaginative situations. It should also expand a child's mind, not only because of the imagination involved, which will help to break children away from conventions in their film experience, thus making them more intelligent, but because it comes from another culture.
It doesn't overtly show its Japaneseness, unless you count the imagination involved (though you should count that as a credit towards Hayao Miyazaki, who is the greatest genius of animation as far as I'm concerned). But it may spark an interest in children old enough to understand that someone from another country made it. Also, for younger kids, Miyazaki's fantastic, equally good My Neighbor Totoro. 10/10
(ps: I have only seen the English dubbed version of this film. I find it perfectly acceptable and great.
Nothing made me cringe, anyway. I think Kirsten Dunst did a very good job characterizing Kiki, a much better job than Claire Danes did characterizing San from Princess Mononoke.)
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Labyrinth (1986)
A kids’ movie. I remember watching this on Betamax in the late 1980’s. But my daughter absolutely adores it.
2023 02 05 14 0g3
Labyrinth was directed by Jim Henson of the Muppet and The Dark Crystal fame. It was produced by George Lucas and featured David Bowie as the villain Goblin King. It's also one of Jennifer Connelly's first films. And it just might be the best live-action Alice in Wonderland film ever made.
Sarah (Connelly) is a proud cloudcuckoolander, someone whose head is permanently stuck in the clouds and who can very easily lose entire days playing make-belief in the parks. And then she's given the unenviable task of looking after her baby brother while her parents go out on a date. And of course the kid gets kidnapped by goblins within fifteen minutes. Top notch job there, Sarah.
To Sarah's credit, she's obviously distraught by this and does everything she can to get her brother back. Nevertheless, her character is a bit tough to get behind most of the time. You can see that her heart is in the right place, but otherwise she's a brat. Not helping the matter is Connelly's acting. It's atrocious, especially in the early scenes. As the movie progresses, she does get better, but she's not going to be winning any Oscars anytime soon. (Which is ironic because fifteen years later she did just that with her role in A Beautiful Mind.)
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But, putting that aside, the film is otherwise a whole lot of fun. David Bowie is an absolute blast, although the songs he's given to sing could have been better. Jim Henson's puppet work is also on full display and is easily the best part of the film. Furthermore, the story has that mad, no logic whatsoever dream quality to it, which makes it enjoyable to watch, and the characters aside from Sarah are very enjoyable.
Mars Needs Moms (2011)
This plays upon the “must save momma” theme that my daughter is a big fan of. Her eyes are glued to the video, and he’s hopping up and down as they race to save “momma”. It’s one of our favorites.
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I wasn't going to watch this movie at all because of the terribly low score (4) on IMDb. Luckily, my kids talked me into it, and I was very pleasantly surprised indeed.I am amazed that this movie scored so low. Yes, granted, its nothing groundbreaking; there are plenty of well-worn formulas applied. But its far from unusual in this regard, and the story is full of fun situations and characters.Visually, its very nice to look at, and I found myself thoroughly enjoying the time I spent watching it. So did my kids, 8 and 10, who both thought it was great! I don't usually review movies here, but I often check the ratings before watching films. In this instance, I am amazed at the low rating this film received, and feel its unrepresentative of the actual quality.
2023 02 05 14 09
I wasn't expecting this at all. I really wasn't. I hadn't read the bad reviews, however I saw the trailer and figured it would be quite cheesy and probably lame. Oh no aliens took my mother and I have to stop them! Sounded like a cheesy cartoon which would involve shooting aliens and running around to find his mom and save her, yada yada yada.Well... boy was I surprised.The movie started out with the whole alien world and because I knew the title was Mars needs Moms it implied the aliens were looking for moms. I watched them show two moms who's kids weren't listening, then it showed a third one who minded his mom. Satisfied by this result, it shows the boy and his mom and how the boy is in that age where he doesn't know why he should listen to his mom. Before they go to bed he says he wishes he didn't have a mom. The emotion from that makes you feel so bad.Now many scenes later the mom got abducted by the aliens, and the boy managed to hitch a ride and meets some new friends and learns a lot. By the time the ending comes you really hope he can save his mom.
The emotions I felt were amazing.
More amazing though was the fact that I eve got some tears near the end. I won't say what happens, but it was very emotional and powerful to me.So I would recommend this movie to anyone. And I'm 18 for your information, so hearing that a young adult got tears from a movie like this must be something.
Meet the Robinson’s (2007)
“Keep on moving forward”
Lewis is an 12-year-old orphan who is always inventing things. However, in a science fair, he meets Wilbur, a 13-year-old boy from the future who is chasing after a Bowler Hat Man who came to the past to steal Lewis' invention, a machine that shows memories. When he steals it, Wilbur takes Lewis to the future, as Wilbur explains he is chasing the villain due to him stealing a time machine. This would lead to an adventure where Lewis meets Wilbur's family, The Robinsons, and stop The Bowler Hat Man from changing the future.
This is a horribly underrated film.
The characters are actually enjoyable, especially the members of Wilbur's family, from Uncle Art, the galactic pizza delivery guy voiced by the late Adam West, to Tiny The T-Rex, each character has an unique personality and talent.
Also, the film is beautifully animated and teaches a lesson: keep going forward, despite your failures.
This is worth checking out.
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Moana (2016)
Just fun, and a great happy movie with depth.
Wow, what a great great movie! The visuals in this movie are breathtaking!! They are so gorgeous! But, besides the visuals there is such a heart and imagination and creativity to this movie. Moana is such a likable, smart, and relatable person. the voice work for Moana is so sweet and so good. The chemistry between Moana and Maui is so great and so natural. The songs in this movie are so charming, catchy and fun! But, How Far I'll Go is such an emotional song and it has such heart...I dare say I like it a little more than Let It Go! The way Moana sings it and you can feel it!! Wow, I just looved this movie and it is great for kids and adults. I will always love it and I wanna see it again!
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My Neighbor Totoro aka Tonari no Totoro (1988)
This is our all-time favorite movie to watch. If you are a father, and you want to spend an afternoon with your daughter, this is perfect. Track down the English version. I got mine via a torrent.
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This is the movie I watch to restore my faith in humanityI first saw "My Neighbor Totoro" when I was maybe seven.At the time, I thought that it was really boring(that was still when I liked Disney movies). Years later, when I discovered "Princess Mononoke" I learned that MNT was by the same director and watched it again. And I find that I appreciate this film a whole lot more now then I did when I was seven.
The animation is absolutely stunning(as with all Miyazaki films)and the story is deceptively simple, told with patient, subtle attention to detail. The best example IMO is the scene where Mei falls asleep on Totoro's stomach.It's fruitless to try and describe it;you have to see it for yourself.
2023 02 05 15 51
I absolutely agree with Roger Ebert who called "My Neighbor Totoro", "One of the most beloved of all family films".
Its colorfully bright and sparkling animation is enchanting.
It is incredibly realistic and at the same time makes us along with two main characters, the young sisters ready for a miracle to happen any minute.
The gentle story is touching, uplifting, funny, and tender without being overly sentimental or didactic.
The film takes place in the early 50s, when 10-year-old Satsuki and her baby sister, curious and energetic 4-year-old Mei spend one summer in an old house in the country side with their University professor father while their mother recovers from a serious illness in the nearby hospital.
The great master Hayao Miyazaki remembers well what it is like to be a child, to see magic in the everyday life and be always ready to encounter it.
This ability usually disappears as the child becomes adult but it stays forever in a few chosen, and they become the visionary Artists - just like Miyazaki himself.
The film is partially autobiographical for the writer/director/storyboard artist. "When Miyazaki and his brothers were children, his mother suffered from spinal tuberculosis for nine years, and spent much of her time hospitalized.
It is implied, yet never revealed in the film, that Satsuki and Mei's mother also suffers from tuberculosis.
He once said the film would have been too painful for him to make if the two protagonists were boys instead of girls." (From the IMDb film trivia)
Totoro of the title is an adorable funny blue forest spirit who lives in the nest beneath a huge tree and makes the trees grow and the winds blow.
Totoro becomes the friend and protector of the sisters and one day he sends them on the bus journey that is like nothing they and the viewers could ever imagine.
I wish I could ride that cat bus.
What a wild and kind imagination an artist should have to create it.
How much happier we all are knowing that Hayao Miyazaki exists and makes his amazing films at the Studio Ghibli for which King Totoro is the mascot.
Spirited Away (2001)
No only a classic, but a movie about a young girl who is trying to get her parents back. There’s magic, dragons, friends, and so many details to mention that it boggles the mind.
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This is a wonderfully imaginative and fantastical children's fantasy. It is easy to see why it was perhaps the critical hit of 2002. The film is glorious to look at. It is a testament to old fashioned animation techniques that seem to be resigned to foreign animations. Of course there is some use of computer imagery for certain shots but they blend seamlessly and the overall artistry involved is superlative.
2023 02 05 15 57
This is the first Hayao Miyazaki film I have seen and I will certainly watch his others. The story plays on many elements successful with kids films, that transport you back to your own childhood and also allows the young audience to connect with the themes in the movie too. The story centres around Chihiro, a young girl about to move into a new place and who feels insecure about the new environment she will be living in. These fears become a part of her encounter with a strange abandoned amusement park that she and her parents find when they reach a dead end in their car. At the park they find that their is a stall that is seemingly open, with glorious displays of mouth watering food. There are no people about but Chihiros parents decide to gorge themselves on this bounty and pay later. As Chihioro explores she comes across a strange boy who warns her to get out before dark. It is too late however, because as night falls, ghosts are awakened, and then by the time she gets back to her parents they are turned into pigs. She then finds that the route she came from is gone and she is now trapped in this place, her only allie being the boy she met earlier. She is told to get a job at the centre piece of the park, a bath house run by Yubaba, an evil power mad witch. This is a bath house for the spirits and Chihiro has to find a job there before she is found and turned into an animal herself, then unable to save her parents.
2023 02 05 15 5s8
The story is imaginative and the characters and animations endlessly unique and strange. This is just so much more creative than Hollywood. The characters are likeable and we become engrossed with Chihiros adventures inside this bathhouse, and the characters she comes into contact with as she tries to get her parents back as humans and whilst trying to get back to the human world. What I also loved in this film is that the animation gives it a real sense of cinematography, the drawing makes the film stand out in a way that American animations rarely do. Another film I think of that looked really good was Bellville Rendezvous. Another great point in fact the best part of it, is the fantastic score. It really is uplifting and very original. This is just great film making.
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The Adventures of Tintin (2011)
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Oh, the dog; Snowy makes this movie fun for the young kids, it’s really fun for the entire family. Treasure, adventure, high-seas adventure, planes, desert, and so much more…
2023 02 05 16 03x
As you may know Tin Tin is a very old character and there has been books and TV programs made about his great adventures by his inventor Hergé.
This new film has been voted the best animated film and once you've seen this film you'll know why.
The film is well paced out and there's never a dull moment in this film. The 3D in this film is spectacular and it's well worth seeing this film in 3D if you can.
The film is around 1 hour 47 minutes long and in this time Steven Spielberg manages to squash in a good few adventures into one in this film.
This makes it much more exciting and you really get to know how Tin Tin and Captain Haddock were in the old days.
As a projectionist, I've seen this film about 6 times now and I still don't get bored watching it.
Absolutely brilliant film, I really recommend going to see this film as soon as you can.
Hope the review helps your thoughts on the film. Thanks for reading, I'll be making more reviews on the films that I see at my cinema so you can get the latest thoughts from me on the films. Thanks again BPH projectionist
One of my daughter’s favorite movies. Cats, kids. School. And magical adventure. The English dub version is just lovely.
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After the wild but fully justified furore surrounding Spirited Away, Studio Ghibli's next production is a much lower key affair, clearly aimed at a younger market. Having said that, this cynical thirty-something loved it to bits. Ghibli purists seem to be somewhat snobbish about the studio's output, but If this is an example of one of their films designed more for harmless family entertainment, I can stand to see a lot more of it.
This is a wonderful fantasy film, cute and funny, and full of remarkable and memorable characters. The animation is solid and detailed, occasionally even breathtaking, and the soundtrack is gorgeous. The brisk running time ensures the light story doesn't outstay its welcome. In fact, I could easily have watched more, and I'm already looking forward to Ghibli's or Miyazaki's next flight of fantasy.
2023 02 05 16 08
Up (2009)
There are many more that I can add, but I really want to add this masterpiece. It is well known, but should never be over-looked if you want to share some time with your daughter….
I am so tired of trying to counter the mega-onslaught of hate being generated out of the United States towards China. The redirection is working. Most American hate China and blame all their troubles on it, instead of themselves and their (so called) “government”. Well, let’s just deal with things as they actually are and not what the American government wants others to believe.
2021 was China’s best year. Ever.
by Godfree Roberts*
Amidst global gloom, 2021 was the best year in modern Chinese history. Here’s what they accomplished:
Released a fractional orbital bombardment missile from another missile at 17,000 mph.
Simultaneously commissioned three warships, becoming the world’s biggest navy.
Expect China to maintain this pace through 2022 by launching, among other things, the first, greenfield, automated, 21st century city for six million knowledge workers. With 70% woods and lakes, the loudest sound will be birdsongs.
Massive booby juggle. That’s one thing that the Chinese gals like to do. If you all got the boobies, then you are allowed to jiggle them. It’s cute actually, and I always get a big kick out of it. Jiggle jiggle jiggle. video 25MB
Now, I know that China is bad. I read all about it in the comment sections from moronic Americans and Brits. Ah like this…
World's most advanced censorship and surveillance regime with no freedom and a punitive social credit scheme. I admire the work ethic and manufacturing prowess but would rather live in a cabin the woods than submit to such a regime. Sadly, while losing ground in technology, our elites are catching up with their own repression and Woke overthrow of Constitutional rights.
Posted by: Fran Macadam
and this…
A totally deluded and mostly inaccurate summary. China is currently self-destructing because it is the only country in the world still trying "zero COVID". Their entire real estate market is close to collapse. They had terrible floods and large destruction of farm lands. Several dams broke, and the huge Three Gorges dam almost broke. Everybody wants to leave China, from Hong Kong, Tibet, Xinjiang to Taiwan.
Posted by: Niall K.
Yah. The USA is exceptional. It has delicious “freedom” and “liberty” and all that wonderful “democracy”. You can see it everywhere…
But if that is what appeals to you. I say enjoy it. Me, I’m gonna stay here. eat delicious food. hang out in the beautiful sunshine, with the trees and the flowers. Eat delicious meals. Play with pretty girls and have lots and lots of fun.
Conclusion
I hope that you enjoyed this little update on China. Many things were left out. Such as the Space exploration accomplishments, and the energy accomplishments, and the environmental accomplishments.
Have a great day, and remember to always be the Rufus.
Do you want more?
You can find more articles related to this in my China Index…
I am so tired of trying to counter the mega-onslaught of hate being generated out of the Untied States towards China. The redirection is working. Most American hate China and blame all their troubles on it, instead of themselves and their (so called) “government”.
Instead, today, we will just go over some elements of Chinese society. These are little “snapshots” or culture. Isolated pictures, and images, as you will (understand). And taken together it’s a fun look at the great diversity of life that is colorfully presented in such a huge and enormous nation filled with a huge and enormous population.
We are not going to talk about Geo-politics, Biden, Trade wars, hybrid wars, Vaxx wars or another American-centered subjects. We are just going to talk about life, and in China that means videos and fun. We’re not going to get too serious here, at least I don’t intended to, anyways.
I’m presenting them in no particular order, because after all, life kind of throws things at us in a seemingly random order as well. Though, you do know that you have had an intelligent hand in the development of your life… don’t you know.
Bar Scene
Here’s a girl singing to the audience in a pretty typical bar. Video 8MB
A Park in China
I think that it is lovely. Most parks inside of China re quite nice, and the government is constantly expanding them, and improving them in so many little ways. video 3MB
College Dorm
Dorm rooms in the USA are usually two people affairs; two people share a room. In England it is one person gets their own room. In China, the dorm rooms are six people share a room. Here’s a group of girls in their dorm room. video 6MB
Death by cute (part 1)
It’s a fashion thingy that found it’s way from Japan. It’s called loli. I like it. So does my little girl. Video 6MB
It’s very common to see people dancing all over China. I mean that you NEVER see this in the ‘Stats, but you see it all the time inside China. video 3MB
Incidentally, this kind of view… the buildings lit up in the background, the blue sky, the open plazas are so very typical of China. It’s everywhere.
Han fashion (1)
It’s a fashion trend throughout China. It’s pretty popular and there are girls and guys wearing these outfits in the malls, the parks and on the subways. video 8MB
Han Fashion (2)
This is a sort of Chinese version of a medieval festival, only with Chinese culture and clothing. Continues video 7MB
Han fashion (3)
Here’s some more images from a different festival. video 5MB
Han Fashion (4)
Couple runs into each others arms. I love the expression on the little girl to the left. Cute. video 4MB
In America, everyone is a “lone wolf”. If you are fired from work, you are alone, and no one stands up for you. If you are in a car accident, you are alone and no one helps you. Most Americans eat alone, pay taxes alone, mow their yard alone, and travel alone.
Not so in China. China is the land of groups and communities. Everyone is part of something bigger than themselves. And if they individually make a mistake, the group absorbs the mistake and moves forward. video 7MB
Peng G3
When I first saw this video I thought that it was some kind of photoshop video manipulation. Then I went to a Peng show room, and that an actual car feature! This is how the Chinese introduce new features into the market. I wonder when Detroit will start copying China? Hum? video 5MB
Sending your dreams aloft
It’s a tradition for the Chinese to put their dreams and wishes on a scrap of paper and then light the balloon to send them into the sky. It’s very beautiful. video 2MB
Shanghai
Yeah. Everyone knows about Shanghai. But it’s really impressive when you are there in person. It makes New York City look like a small village. video 3MB
By Sweety Boy
Thai song adopted by the Chinese pop scene during 2019 / 2020. video 3MB
Time Machine
China has gone through so many wars, struggles, occupations, poisonings, humiliation, and growth. There is a sub-culture that memes this historical trend. Here’s one such video. I call it “time machine”. Video 4MB
Here’s a third video of the same “time machine” theme. video 13MB
Wedding 1
Chinese wedding. This is in a tiny remote village. Here we see the ritual of presentation before the parents and the town elders. video 3MB
Wedding 2
Chinese wedding. They don’t throw rice. It’s too wasteful and the Chinese just don’t understand that American ritual at all. video 5MB
Wedding 3
Chinese wedding. Bride presentation with her brides’ maids prior to the groom entry to “steal her” from her parents home. video 3MB
Xinjiang HST
High Speed Train in Xinjiang province. These are all Uighur staffed, and serving the Uighur people. Of course, you would never see anything positive about China in the American “news”. It’s all a 7 billion dollar funded hate-fest. video 9MB
Conclusion
I hope that you enjoyed this little travel vacation. Have a great day, and remember to always be the Rufus.
Do you want more?
You can find more articles related to this in my China Index…
This is the full reprint of the book titled “Domain Expeditionary Force Rescue Mission”. There is an interesting story behind this book. It is considered a science fiction story, while the first book “Alien Interview” is not. I do not know what to think. However, it is really easy to discount the idea that there is a follow up book whenever the first book became popular. There is that “for profit motive” don’t you know.
Thus we have this write up;
A Science Fiction story based on the best selling book ALIEN INTERVIEW.
"There are several obvious reasons that The Domain, and other space civilizations do not land on Earth or make their presence known. It takes a very brave IS-BE to come down through the atmosphere and land on Earth, because it is a prison planet, with a very uncontrolled, psychotic population. And, no IS-BE is entirely proof against the risk of entrapment, as with the members of The Domain Expeditionary Force who were captured in the Himalayas 8,200 years ago."
-- excerpt from the book ALIEN INTERVIEW, edited by Lawrence R. Spencer
MM comments
I parsed the book “Alien Interview” and found it valid, real and actual. I then parsed it in great detail, and in so doing, found many answers that “clicked” or aligned with prior events, knowledge, and experiences that I have had. There is no question that the first book “Alien Interview” is valid.
I do not know about the second book.
When I read the opinions of others, I find myself questioning everything. Such as this book review here…
Fiction or Valid Disclosure?
Good book but lacked the authenticity and clarity the author claims it is which the first book “Alien Interview” had.
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The only reason I say this is that although the cover says, “by Lawrence R. Spencer”, the author claims he is not the original author. But in his first book, “Alien Interview” he credits himself as the editor only.
This is true. The first book; "Alien Interview" is the narrative of the transcribing nurse that was involved in the interview of the acquired Commander of a downed extraterrestrial spacecraft. It includes her narrative, and the full transcript of the interview. According tot he first book, she is dead. So, what is the source information for the second book?
-MM
In this book, Spencer puts his name on the cover as “by Lawrence R. Spencer” which leaves it open to suspect. There is an email address inside the book that Mr. Spencer claims the documents have come from. I wrote to this email address in the book on several occasions and received no reply. I did not receive an undelivered email notification so I assume someone got it. I am sure I am not the only person to write to the mysterious email address shown in the book. .
This opens the book up to great controversy and it has been put down by various reviewers on the internet, claiming that the author, Lawrence Spencer, wrote this book and its prequel “Alien Interview” as a kind of religious agenda, or rather, “anti-religious” agenda.
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However, there are many many people out there who have had amazing testimonies of ET contact and their stories are even more outlandish and unbelievable than the written material of these books. So to judge this book as some kind of writing that has a religious or ideological motivation is incorrect.
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I believe many people have had many ET experiences and this book coincides with the many thousands of people who have had their eyes opened to the revelations and perspectives that have changed them forever. This book and “Alien Interview” are not the authors or inventors of such concepts but rather reinforce what has already been revealed by thousands of other abductees, witnesses, and Experiencers. .
Mr. Spencer does indicate the the book is “by” him.
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However, he claims that he is not the original author.
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He claims that it came to him via email from someone claiming to be Matilda MacElroy…
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…or a Being or person that is coordinated with the late Mrs. MacElroy. .
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There is no evidence that Mrs. MacElroy actually died although she stated in “Alien Interview” that she was going to die and be put to rest in a place of her choosing. .
The book is written in the same style as the previous book which was supposed to be by Mrs. MacElroy.
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Since Mrs. MacElroy had a career military background, this book fits hand and glove to the first writings. There are some typographical errors that are claimed to be part of the original way the book was presented to Mr. Spencer.
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This book appears to be strung together as a collection of notes that barely hold together as a manual.
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Since the author cannot claim it was actually written by Matilda as it came to him via email, it has some mystery to it. There are some grammar errors and spelling issues here and there, certainly not the kind of quality of a professional writer. So perhaps these are the foot prints of the real writer. .
Never the less, it is a very good book and I found it very interesting, written with the same matter-o-fact style as the first book.
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However, instead of the transcription style of the first book, this book comes together as a take-a-long manual for someone in the process of trying to get their pre-earth memory back. .
I was met with some very violent reactions from certain people when I tried to talk about this book and the original book, “Alien Interview”. It appears that the material appears so far fetched that it strikes anything from fear to ridicule in others who do not have any courage to stretch beyond their own belief system and self imposed science or religious paradigms. .
For anyone who wants to stretch their consciousness outside the limited box-thinking paradigm of our present reality, and for anyone who has had some kind of ET experience, whether it be abduction, observation, or for anyone who is wanting to learn something amazing of a possible pre-earth existence, this is a great eye opening book. .
I suggest the “Alien Interview” book be read first in order to keep this book in its rightful context.
The files
A MM contributor took the time to photograph the entire contents of the book and send it for me to read. These photos are below for your enjoyment.
I have read the total book in this format, and here are my impressions…
MM Comments after reading the book
Let me repeat what the book says…
This book is in no way factual. Nor is it intended to represent any factual information. This book is a contrivance of the imagination of the author. This book is a work of fiction only. It is not to be interpreted otherwise by the reader.
MM readership take note. This is a fiction. Nothing more.
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Do you want more?
I have more articles in my Index titled “The Domain” here…
You’ll not find any big banners or popups here talking about cookies and privacy notices. There are no ads on this site (aside from the hosting ads – a necessary evil). Functionally and fundamentally, I just don’t make money off of this blog. It is NOT monetized. Finally, I don’t track you because I just don’t care to.
The following is a series of articles describing the adventure that a follower who goes by the handle "ANONYMOUS" has experienced since reading MM. They are very interesting and fascinating. I hope that you all learn from his journey and maybe learn a thing or two as he relates his unique experiences to the readership here.
A quick note. When I first posted this article I confused two contributors. This caused me some headaches and all should be resolved by now.
-MM
Preamble
MM,
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Seeing you suffer under DOS and database attack and the drop in visitations has really effected me as well, so I wanted to send you a big, heartfelt intention-bump. Without any exaggeration, your website has completely and irrevocably changed my entire life. My general way of living, mentality, and many other aspects have changed forever.
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The tale here is odd to say the least.
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Your blog basically “unlocked” me in January of this year, and prompted a very bizarre, incredibly frightening, but ultimately useful transformation including the unlocking of a number of new “abilities” which still has me totally stunned.
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I was waiting for this moment…..
How it all started
I am a middle aged man in Canada.
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During some unrelated web surfing in September of 2020, I was directed to one of your SHTF articles which was referred to on Reddit.
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As someone very prep-oriented, nothing you wrote there shocked me at all, but I enjoyed your style, grit and honesty.
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I had no idea at the time you had other experiences elsewhere, but upon return (to the MM site) I discovered your MAJ and all over documents, not to mention other hosted works in Bibliotech etc.
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As a quick backgrounder on me, I am a Spectrum-learner, with virtually no subject that I do not enjoy knowing more about, but with a huge focus on Science, ExoBiology, Planetary Sciences, Astronomy, Physics, Botany, and many more.
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But I am also a musician, artist, and I’ve worked as a professional Sous Chef before, so food is a huge thing for me.
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For what its worth, I brew my own beer, grow my own food, and so on. Where I live, I am very unusual.
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My professional background includes banking, high tech security and surveillance, and other technology related elements. I have also run my own business twice, and taken a company to the stock market here publicly. I understand computers, networks, and so on.
The Change
Before discovering you I was agnostic. One of those extremely skeptical types who values everything based on return on investment….. a “show me” kind of guy.
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This doesn’t mean I was closed. Dear Lord, no, I am voracious in learning and understanding in anything I can, and ET/UFOLOGY etc was all part of my general interest.
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For the record, I never believed we were “alone” and since I was 9 years old I took it for granted we would discover countless worlds and meet/interact with countless entities. Much of my childhood was spiritual, but that can be saved for another time.
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Sept 2020 I began reading your material, alongside my reading at the time which included Roger Penrose / Hawking but as well as a number of UFO related channeling websites and other such material.
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Nonetheless I kept coming back to MM over and over again.
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Something in the back of my mind started what I can only describe as a “rising agitation” as I consumed your material.
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I got the distinct impression I was being watched, and I hope that doesn’t sound too nuts, but it grew over time.
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As I continued reading the material, I became very very focused upon it, studying the Base 8 Number system, Functional Diagrams, Comments on Brown Dwarfs etc. It was like I had imagined a website built just for me, by you! Every article was incredible!
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But what started my experience was the growing realization that multidimensionally we were indeed being watched, every single moment of every day.
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I had a very frightening “oh shit!” moment when I finally accepted what I was learning.
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Studying Quantum Physics and other related topics for 20 years brought me to this one moment.
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I can tell you it was personally very shocking to realize everything I had ever done, every thought, every action, every Sin, every Rufus moment, was known. Also, I felt pretty stupid for not coming to this knowing earlier.
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Then something very dramatic happened, and I hope you can both understand and possibly shed light.
The Event
During a five-day period in January of 2021 I was really pushing hard to continue to read as much as possible from your site while maintaining my busy corporate life.
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Each day, I felt a rising wave of energy in me, like waves of “chills” beginning from the bottom of my feet and rising up my spine, spreading like energetic wings left and right, and then culminating in my head/crown.
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Keep in mind, I had very limited esoteric/spiritual background. I had no idea this was leading somewhere…..
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Each day the sensation grew, but it got weirder.
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Suddenly, and without any prompting or training, I had a very serious interest suddenly in sitting down on the ground, and breathing by inhaling through my nose (tongue on roof of mouth) and then exhaling as I digested your materials and revelations.
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I would pray in place (keep in mind I had prayed ZERO times for my entire life prior), and consider my own errors and successes as well as the nature of consciousness, the soul, etc.
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During this breathing, the energy would increase.
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Whilst my eyes were closed, I started to see what seemed to be a “field” of dimensionality I hadn’t seen, which was lit up. Then, shimmering light from the top of my field of view (with eyes closed).
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By the third day, I was sleeping less and less and less and reading more and more and more.
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Also, during my circular breathing moments, I started to notice all of my hair would stand on end, and massive goosebumps would show up along the entire length of my body.
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I felt pressure at the top of my head in the shape of a torus, and then soon, the sensation of a DOT roaming around on my forehead, then “fixing” in place between my eyes.
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Another sensation was at the exact center of the top of my skull, like a “pulling” upwards from my body to somewhere above me, so to speak.
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On the fifth day, I had slept less than 3 hours, and was meditating, breathing and praying a LOT. Yet, for whatever reason, even though this was totally bizarre and unprecedented behavior, I felt bliss.
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On that day, I mentally said the words “God I know believe in you, and I want to Serve Others”.
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I knew personally, that being a mixed Sentience was NOT what I was, and not the man I knew I could be.
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MM, this was nuts. I was pulled to the tips of my toes and what felt like lightning ripped through my body. The feeling was akin to a bizarre ecstasy and I knew I was a different person.
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I said “thank you” out loud.
Follow though…
During my intense meditations afterwards I began projecting block letters in my mind, and i didn’t know why, but they had themes like “Unity” “Peace” “Co-Operate” “UNITY MIND to MIND” and other ideas.
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But it got even crazier.
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I started seeing visions in my mind of our civilization in the future, and I knew it was 500 years from now approx, but I didn’t know how I knew.
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In it I saw thousands and thousands of people gathering, as I hovered over the landscape watching them assemble. These people assembled first in one triangle, and then another overlapping triangle. The Double-Tetrahedron Star of David.
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In the middle of the grouping there were elders or seers with hands outstretched. Then the entire crowd (tens of thousands of people) began to sing in a way I’ve never heard.
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Now please don’t think I am certifiable but for some reason I could sense why this was being done.
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It was a massive prayer and intention ritual used to bring Earth to a Zero-Point in a different pocket universe to allow for planetary healing and a reset as humanity began to graduate into STO Sentience and Sovereignty.
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We were growing up…..finally.
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There is so much more insane detail here I can barely begin, but it included Psychic Colleges, Parent-Child classes from birth and all kinds of incredible outcomes from this new Way. It was very detailed and incredibly inspirational….
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…and alien.
End of part 1
Pretty exciting? Right? Well this is one man's experience. And everyone will have their own personal experience that will be just as profound and just as amazing. From seeing faeries to breathless communication with cherished pets, to mind-boggling breakthroughs in understandings and realizations. It's all the same thing. - MM
What to expect in future articles…
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…an encounter with an Entity and a terrifying “debate” where I was mentally crushed by this entity. Afterwards, and to this very moment, I have the ability to pull “source/prana/energy/whatever” at will, and this seems to have a massive impact on my prayers and intentions.
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In other words, I am starting to see very noticeable manifestations.
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I have also seen many many different shapes, diagrams (which I can interact with sort of), and other images in my meditative mind.
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The synchronicities in my life are off the chart, sometimes 8 to 10 jaw dropping events in a single day. Its like living in my own Movie now, and its a trip.
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My entire life has changed. I mediate often and pray often. I am single for the first time in decades and without a solid footing.
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The MM website is a touchstone for sanity. I am becoming the Rufus……slowly. I will say, that changing ones Sentience from Mixed (which I absolutely was) to STO is the hardest and most rewarding thing I’ve ever done. Ever.
You’ll not find any big banners or popups here talking about cookies and privacy notices. There are no ads on this site (aside from the hosting ads – a necessary evil). Functionally and fundamentally, I just don’t make money off of this blog. It is NOT monetized. Finally, I don’t track you because I just don’t care to.
When I lived in Massachusetts, I noticed just how different it was from either New York, or Pennsylvania. Massachusetts had bigger homes… huge multi-generational homes. It had large beautiful cemeteries… not the spare plot of earth where you would toss the diseased into like the state of Indiana, and it had statues, and carvings, and character.
After learning about local history, and lore, I came to the realization that the people who lived in Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut, and similar adjacent states all were founded by people who cared about their environment and their society.
And in many ways, that still exists in Massachusetts.
In those days, people would have picnics in cemeteries. (When was the last time you and your family had a picnic in a cemetery?) And went out for a stroll down the roads and lanes near your house at twilight? They, the people who lived there, designed the environment to be one that was aesthetically and socially appealing. Large lush and deep dark shady trees adorned the roads. Mailboxes, fences, and stairways were designed for beauty and appearance. Instead of the raw brutalist minimalism that had corrupted America since the psychopathic oligarchy took control in 1910.
Back in the day, say after the American Civil War, paintings depicted real art; real beauty. Buildings showed elements of interest and were designed for multi-generational families, and monies were allocated to those purposes. Parks were constantly created, maintained, and expanded upon. Statues were erected, and monuments created.
“The Royal Opera House In Valletta, Malta (1911). Built In 1866, It Was Destroyed In World War II From A Direct Hit By Luftwaffe Bombers”
All of these things are currently happening in China today because the government recognizes that to have a happy citizenry, you must create a healthy and happy environment to live in.
These things are NOT happening in America because America has devolved into a two class society. The oligarchy class of the 0.0001% live in isolated communities and live lavish and exorbitant lives. While the rest serve them in a very stratified existence. From their point of view (the ruling class), as long as the serf-sheeple are content enough not to revolt, who needs to provide them a good and healthy environment to live in. Rather to milk them dry while they are distracted in various political battles, and foreign wars.
And that’s the way it is.
Today we are going to look at the loss of these beautiful buildings and structure. We will not focus on the American progressive movement, and the American rise of the psychopaths. But rather we will simply morn the loss of buildings and structures as “works of art” in their own way. I hope you enjoy this post.
“The Original Neue Elbbrücke Bridge From 1887-1959 In Hamburg, Germany”
When I lived in Indiana I saw outdoor ice skating rinks that had been turned into open air garbage dumps, public swimming pools that had been cemented in, statutes what had been torn down and now all that existed was a plot of land with a pedestal and a bunch of old tangle weeds.
I saw housing complexes going up in areas that was fenced off “for posterity so that others can enjoy the beauty of old growth forests”, and I saw housing developments bull-dosing beautiful meandering streams, brooks and low rolling hills.
I also saw a parking lot where an old local swimming hole used to exist.
When the society becomes that of a money grabbing venture by the most evil psychopaths in society, there is no room for anyone else, beauty, or society.
““It’s Not Possible To Take Such A Photograph Anymore, As The Buildings Outside Block The Sun Rays.” Grand Central, NYC (1929)”
Indiana was an eye-opening experience for me. I used to visit the local libraries and go into the local history section and research the area where I lived. So much history.
While today it is flat and filled with soy beans and corn fields as far as the eye can see.
he Knoxville, Tennessee, courthouse circa 1903. With signage advising “Keep Off the Grass,” “No Loafing,” “Drink Hickman’s Coffee” and “Chew Ram’s Horn Tobacco.”
But you know, back when the “white settlers” were moving Westward, the land was mostly wooded with large and expansive old-growth forests, fine babbling brooks and tall wide based trees covered in deep plush mosses.
Not today. Indiana is a farming state. It’s changed, but not every change is for the best.
“Lost And Rediscovered”
So there is some hope.
One of the things that I lament about China, but I never talk about, is how the old is all being displaced with the new. yeah. I like the new malls, the clean and efficient public works and all the rest. But I believe that some attention must be made to preserve the past.
“The Hotel Netherland (NYC) Photographed In 1905 And Later Demolished In 1927”
Surely, China is trying.
Tree are being planted, parks are being established everywhere, and there are local committees all over the place dedicated to preserving the past. Some ancient and historical sites are going under.
The Wabash-Pittsburgh railway station.
If not, then are being renewed in some “architectural improvements” for the best of society. You know, maybe the ruins have their own beauty, maybe?
“Built In 1504, Demolished In 1910. What Was The Oldest House In Hamburg, Germany”
California was a land of forests that were actually nothing more than “Christmas trees on gravel”, and if you all have ever been to CA, you will know what I am talking about. however, there is some serous history in Northern California near Chico and the areas near San Francisco. The entire Pacific North West is dotted with character, and you can see it in the movies “Labyrinth“, “First Blood (a Rambo movie)” and “The Goonies“. You can see that it resembles Pennsylvania is so many ways, that I automatically became attracted and attached to it.
“The Elisabeth Bridge Built In 1903 Budapest, Hungary. It Was The Longest Single-Span Bridge In The World At The Time And An Engineering Marvel. Following The Retreat Of German Forces From The City In Ww2, It Was Blown Up In The Morning Of January 18, 1945. Replaced In 1964 By A Modernist Bridge”
They had a museum, and in it was a full length ball-gown all made from a woman’s hair. I have never forgotten about it. I well remember going into the renovated Victorian style building and gawking at the dress while licking some frozen yogurt from TCBY. But that was on another world line and on this one people eat ice cream more than yogurt cones.
“Medieval Town Of Hildesheim, Lower Saxony, Germany. Once One Of The Most Picturesque And Pristine Late Medieval Towns In Europe. Destroyed On March 22nd, 1945, One Month Before The War’s End”
You know, when you are in a place, it is the environment that makes it special. The people, the smells, and the style of the local architecture all contribute to the ambience. It’s what makes events special.
I can relate to you special time that I have had singing with a girl on the pier in Salem Massachusetts after we had pizza and wine in a local restaurant (with red checkered tablecloths) and a candle in an old wine bottle. Or chilling out in the cemetery next to my university in Syracuse New York, or grabbing a hot dog in an obscure diner on a side alley in Philadelphia (maybe I should have gotten a Philly cheese steak sandwich).
The point is that if everything is nothing but white bland boxes or McMansions you miss out in life and special experiences that enhance the senses.
“Cincinnati Public Library 1871-1955”
When I lived in Indiana I was surprised how plain and sterile everything was. Restaurants, aside from well established chains were just empty rooms with the cheapest plastic chairs and the barest tables. The food was the cheapest to make and the most expensive to sell. Iced tea came in a huge tureen and provided sugarless without lemon, mint twig or orange, and provided in the a really bland way. It was like eating in a school or hospital cafeteria.
Seriously.
“The Saltair Pavilion 1900-1925”
People you all need to look at things from a aesthetic perspective; one of pleasure and beauty instead of just one of profit. Why are water holes from the last century filled in or cemented over? Because no one could profit from them? That’s fucking sick! Seriously. Your society is demented if it allows them to be destroyed simply become someone cannot profit from them.
Don’t understand. I task you. Go to the local historical society and research where all the old (free) water holes were. Get the locations on a map (easy to do int he library) and go search them look. Look at what they are like today.
Replaced with tiny little hands grasping and clutching at your wallet. This is not a society. It is a concentration slave camp.
“Warsaw, Poland 1939. No Need To Say What Happened Here. Truly A Tragic Loss”
And you know what is supremely frustrating to me? It’s that no one else notices. They just accept it as a “good thing” and as “progress”. They do not see that taking something that is free and turning it into something that someone can profit from is EVIL. They fail to see this.
They are the one’s with a head problem.
One hundred years ago homes were quite different. People lived in multi-generation homes. The grandparents, the uncles and aunties and their kids, and you and your family all lived int he same house. Each family had a suite of rooms which consisted of a bedroom or two, a living area, a bath and a kitchen and a porch.
They didn’t need to mow grass. They had the lawns planted in clover.
They didn’t have or need air conditioning. They had high ceilings with above the door transoms, and large spacious deep porches with swings, swing gliders and porch swings and big enormous thick trees that shaded the entire home form the relentless sun in the Summer.
Not today.
The design of homes is such that the owners NEED to purchase systems that they must pay for weekly or monthly to maintain a comfortable standard of living.
Now, of course, these homes are now considered to be mansions. After all they have multiple bedrooms, and living rooms, but really are they any different from McMansion’s?
In those days they didn’t have wall to wall carpeting. They had real hardwood floors. They didn’t have air conditioning. they used fans, and high vaulted ceilings to direct the hot air outward. They didn’t have refrigerators, they had cold cellars, and other systems that sound so primitive, but in all functionality work just as well today as they did back then.
A cold cellar would store vegetables and fruit for up to a week. So does a refrigerator. A high ceiling room can keep only slightly warmer than an air conditioned room set at 75 degrees F in the Summer. A house with windows open allows for the early morning and evening breezes to clean out the bad odors and smells that accumulate. Today we must use a selection of detergents to scrub the rooms to maintain a pleasant environment.
To live in the “old way” is to live cheaper, but only take a minor hit in benefit. Unless you like to keep your air conditioner set to freezing, there is no benefit in having a A/C unit unless you have enough disposable income to afford the monthly electrical bills.
And yeah. I get it. When the weather is super hot and humid, having an air conditioner does make all the difference. My point is this; how many days per year do you need to run it?
“The Late 3rd Century Tetrapylon Of Ancient Palmyra, Syria. Deliberately Destroyed By Isis, 2017”
If you have the money, and the ability, then go ahead use and have all the modern conveniences. I have, after all, spent many years designing these appliances. So it’s all up to you. But I want to underline that there is a very special characteristic of a home with a big wide porch and a nice sliding glider.
“Times Square (1919) Before All The Renovations And Billboards”
When I was 16 years old and working, one fine old lady came up to me and told me that her granddaughter really had a shine to me. She was 14 years old and the woman (Her name was “Auntie Gay”) arranged a date.
She had this big old Victorian home on one of the broad streets in East Brady, PA, and it was near the Captain Brady mansion. She invited me in, and made us some nice lemonade, and allowed us to drink it on the porch on a nice glider there. She left us alone, but we were not allowed off the porch. We were permitted to hold hands but when I tried to kiss her, the porch light went on.
I look back now. It was really charming.
“The Old Dutch House In Bristol, England. It Was Constructed In 1676 But Was Destroyed During The Bristol Blitz Of 1940 By The Luftwaffe”
She had this enormous kitchen with floor to ceiling cupboard that reached to the sky and two doors in it. One led to a pantry with was bigger than my bedroom (well, almost heh, heh) and another lead downstairs into the cold cellar. Where it was dark, damp, cool and gloomy. She had a thousand glass jars of all sorts of preserves and stored food there, as well as baskets of herbs and other items such as tree bark and Lord knows what.
“The Original Waldorf-Astoria Hotel In NYC, Demolished In 1929 To Serve As The Site For The Empire State Building”
The thing that I remember most about that house was the huge entryway. Once you existed the inner alcove and entered the house, you were in this large room, and in the middle of it was a circular table. Sitting in the middle of the table upon a lace table cloth was this wonderful Tiffany lamp. It was a beautiful work of art. I really admired it.
Tiffany lamp.
I have always admired the details in home and building design, and while I am a big fan of the Victorian style homes, I have to admit that I actually love those wonderful “Craftsman Houses” that become popular briefly before World War II.
These are truly works of art, and are quite adorable. Oh, to be a young boy growing up in either a Victorian or a Craftsman style home would have truly have been a wonderful experience. I can well imagine hanging out in a nook or two with my cat, and reading comic books while munching on a leftover chicken salad sandwich.
Such was my childhood dreams.
But I digress.
Why don’t we design buildings, parks, venues, environments for people to live in? Why does America seem to be nothing more than a bunch of hastily and cheaply produced boxes for people to rush from container one to container two? Why that’s exactly what it seems like. It really does.
“Bowhead House, Edinburgh, Scotland. Built In The Early 1500s, It Was Demolished In 1878. Many Locals Mourned The Loss, Having Regarded The House As One Of The Most Distinctive Relics Of The Old City”
To some people holding on to the old is a relic of the past, and to some degree I can actually see that. Change is how we grow. But that is not what I am talking about here. I am talking about taking things that work, things that are beautiful, things that make life pleasant and replacing them with the bland, the cheap, the simple and the ugly with no consideration what so ever to the people who live around those places.
it’s like the entire concept of American suburbia. It’s just a landscape of little boxes filled with little people doing little things.
“Sibley Breaker, Pennsylvania, Built In 1886 And Destroyed By Fire In 1906”
Here is some images of appreciation to the past.
Here are some thoughts and images that I have found that inspires me, and stirs the porridge in my soul. All credit to the wonderful and skilled architects and craftsmen who built these structures. And you too can enjoy them with me.
Detroit circa 1916. “Griswold Street from Capitol Park.” A scene last glimpsed here, before People’s Outfitting had its growth spurt. 8×10 inch glass negative.
And yeah, It’s just a park in a city. One that is now just mile and miles and miles of ruin. But before the psychopathic oligarchy took over, it was a place of commerce, and a place where people lived, made a living for themselves and their families and thrived.
The Hippodrome stood on 6th Avenue in New York City from 1905 to 1939. It was one of the largest theaters of its time, with a seating capacity of over 5,000.
I suppose that you can argue that it’s just fashion. Buildings come and go and its similar to fashion. The building styles change as the generations cycles.
I understand that.
The Old Metropolitan Opera House was built in 1883 in New York City. First home of the Metropolitan Opera Company, it was demolished in 1967, and performances were moved to Lincoln Center.
The thing is, and this is my point, is that for the last one hundred years, America has dominated the world.
And as the leader, it has influenced the rest of the world.
And the influences are driven downwards from Washington DC.
And since Washington DC has become to focal point for all the global psychopaths in the world, they have, in turn, influenced the entire planet.
And the ruins that you see in the West are but the debris from their carnage.
Chorley Park was the fourth Government House constructed in the early 20th century in Toronto. The birthplace of Toronto alderman John Hallam, it was bought by the city in 1960 and eventually demolished in 1961.
Many of the great building, the most impressive buildings, and the important building were all torn down in America between 1958 and 1965. Why?
Here’s one of the casualties…
The Schiller Theater Building (later known as the Garrick Theater) was built in Chicago in 1891 and was one of the tallest buildings in the city at the time. Inside was a 1,300-seat theater, which was razed in 1961.
Here’s another…
The Chicago Federal Building had a stunning post office and courthouse. The building was demolished in 1965, when it was replaced with the Kluczynski Federal Building.
The renovations towards the “new America” seemed to happen in waves. The 1960 (plus or minus a few years) seems to have a great affect on me personally, but the rapid destruction of American buildings had a second wave afterwards that hit around 1970 or so.
I wonder if this is a consequence of human herd behaviors.
The Old Toronto Star Building was built in 1929 and stood at 288 feet tall, an impressive feat at the time. It was torn down in 1972.
Here’s another casualty from that particular time, the Singer building. As an aside you all might know that I used to hang around with, and party with, Susan Singer the multi-Billionaire heiress to the Singer fortune. She was a nice girl. She was always worrying about how thick her ankles were though. Her ankles were just fine, and she was attractive, and nice.
But you know, that’s life. Its a really strange quirk she had, but I suppose she would tell you all that I was pretty much a weird dude in school as well. LOL.
Conclusion
I like to believe that change is a good thing. That is how we grow.
But I think that change FOR THE BETTER is and should always be welcome. While change for the worse should be avoided at all costs.
When we have a situation where profits for a tiny, tiny small minority governs the shape, appearance and structure of society, eventually that society will break down and collapse.
First you will see minor things disappear.
Then others will vanish with great rapidity. Until all that is left is the barely functional, most expensive, and of questionable utility for the people and the society to use.
And isn’t that what we see today in America?
The ONLY way that this is going to change is to [1] change the structure of the government so that psychopaths no longer can get into positions of control, and [2] Remove all the psychopathic personalities present int he Untied States today.
Which both seem to be quite unlikely.
Therefore…
It’s time to have a picnic and enjoy some companionship, some fine picnic food, and some frosty beers, or a few bottles of red wine. Life is too short to worry about things that you cannot control.
You’ll not find any big banners or popups here talking about cookies and privacy notices. There are no ads on this site (aside from the hosting ads – a necessary evil). Functionally and fundamentally, I just don’t make money off of this blog. It is NOT monetized. Finally, I don’t track you because I just don’t care to.
Please kindly help me out in this effort. There is a lot of effort that goes into this disclosure. I could use all the financial support that anyone could provide. Thank you.
You’ll not find any big banners or popups here talking about cookies and privacy notices. There are no ads on this site (aside from the hosting ads – a necessary evil). Functionally and fundamentally, I just don’t make money off of this blog. It is NOT monetized. Finally, I don’t track you because I just don’t care to.
Please kindly help me out in this effort. There is a lot of effort that goes into this disclosure. I could use all the financial support that anyone could provide. Thank you very much.
Things are maturing and advancing steadily on plan. And like I have repeatedly stated, the events will not be reported. Or, if they are, they will not be well reported, or reported in context. Well, here at MM you are going to get a real situation report, a “Sit Rep”. No need to panic. Just be aware.
“The next Fourth Turning is due to begin shortly after the new millennium, midway through the Oh-Oh decade. Around the year 2005, a sudden spark will catalyze a Crisis mood.
Remnants of the old social order will disintegrate.
Political and economic trust will implode.
Real hardship will beset the land, with severe distress that could involve questions of class, race, nation and empire.
The very survival of the nation will feel at stake.
Sometime before the year 2025, America will pass through a great gate in history, commensurate with the American Revolution, Civil War, and twin emergencies of the Great Depression and World War II.”
– Strauss & Howe – The Fourth Turning
The Fourth Turning
I read The Fourth Turning a while ago. I was astounded in their uncannily accurate assessment of American history based upon generational configurations which recur on eighty-year cycles, a long human life.
Strauss and Howe wrote the book in 1997 and used their generational theory to predict the Crisis that would begin in the mid-2000’s and come to an indeterminate climax in the mid-2020’s.
Strauss & Howe identified the core elements of this Crisis as debt, civic decay, and global disorder. No one can argue the severe distress engulfing the nation and the world traces its origins to these core elements, with the catalyst for this Crisis being the 2008 central banker manufactured financial collapse.
Nothing has been normal since 2008.
And 2008’s epic implosion was driven by the disastrous financial, political and military decisions implemented by the puppets of the Deep State from 2000 onward, with the Federal Reserve obligingly creating bubble after bubble as the “solution” to the previous bubble.
And now we are here again, in the midst of the greatest bubble in the history of mankind.
A bubble of willful ignorance.
The obliviousness of most Americans to the danger awaiting them is akin to the day before Fort Sumpter was bombed…
… the day before Pearl Harbor was attacked…
… or the dinosaurs unaware of a giant meteor rushing towards the planet and about to transform their future in a challenging way.
Real hardship has beset the land.
With the notable exception of the 0.1% who rule…
…or Deep State lackeys and toadies who are being rewarded for propagating mistruths, outright lies, fear, and propaganda on behalf of their oligarch benefactors.
These apparatchiks mainly consist of corrupt politicians, central bank lackeys, mainstream media hacks, neocon warmongers, surveillance state traitors, and big pharma captured health “experts”.
All of whom are driving the world towards the “great reset”.
The severe distress does involve class, race, nation and empire, but most of the distress has been artificially created by those pulling the strings – Bernays’ invisible government manipulating the masses.
The four years of the Trump administration set the stage for the rumblings that we hear today.
All over the world, the death shudders of a dying empire can be heard.
It advances towards us, like that of a deadly avalanche crashing down a mountainside towards an unsuspecting village below.
America is in deep trouble
Harvard professor Laurence Kotlikoff has been a lone voice telling the truth about the true level of unfunded promises hidden in the CBO numbers.
The unfunded social welfare liabilities in excess of $200 trillion for Social Security, Medicare, Medicaid, and Obamacare are nothing but a massive future tax increase on younger and unborn generations. Kotlikoff explains what would be required to pay these obligations:
“To honor these obligations we could (a) raise all federal taxes, immediately and permanently, by 57%, (b) cut all federal spending, apart from interest on the debt, by 37%, immediately and permanently, or (c) do some combination of (a) and (b).”
Zero spending on health and social services?
Zero spending on the military?
It’s simply not going to happen.
The level of taxation and/or Federal Reserve created inflation necessary to honor these politician promises is too large to be considered feasible.
Therefore, these promises, made to get corrupt political hacks elected to public office, will be defaulted upon.
It’s all not going to happen.
Every legitimate valuation method used to assess stock market valuations for the last 100 years confirm the stock market being at least 100% overvalued.
There could not be a worse time for margin debt to also reach all-time highs.
The previous peaks in 2000 and 2007 preceded 50% collapses in stocks.
Consumer credit outstanding, despite the false media story-line of austerity, stands at $14.27 trillion in Q2 of 2020.1. I don’t know what it is today, one year later and after three “stimulus packages”, but it’s just got to be awful.
Feb 05, 2021 · Average consumer debt per capita is approximately $12,596 (total consumer debt as of September 2020/total US population as of September 30, 2020).
-2021 ConsumerDebtStatistics | LexingtonLaw
Indeed, it’s at an all-time high, as the Federal government took monopoly control of the student loan market in 2009.
(And proceeded to issue $600 billion of subprime loans to University of Phoenix wannabe graduates seeking degrees in Gender Studies.)
The Feds also used their five year control of Ally Financial (after their taxpayer bailout) to rejuvenate the subprime auto loan market…
…by doling out $35,000 seven year car loans to unemployed SNAP recipients.
After all everyone deserves to drive a brand new Cadillac Escalade.
The $250 billion increase in auto loan debt since 2009 has “created” the auto recovery. Loan delinquencies approaching 2009 levels will surely not cause a problem.
Right?
The level of local and state pension and healthcare unfunded liabilities to government workers exceeds $4 trillion.
State and local politicians would have to double real estate, sales, and income taxes in order to fund the gold plated benefits for state and local workers.
As government workers in Stockton, San Bernardino, Jefferson County and Detroit have experienced, these promises will be not be honored.
(Sigh.)
It’s all going down the drain
If you don’t feel the very survival of the nation hangs in the balance, then you are either delusional, willfully ignorant, or unwilling to recognize your own cognitive dissonance.
The next five to ten years will alter the course of history in a profound way.
Whether or not the outcome will be positive for average American citizens is very much in doubt.
At all levels, domestic and international, America is flailing about and it’s tremors, spasms and vomiting are noticed by all but the intentionally and willful blind.
I wish it were not so, but most human beings seem incapable of critical thought regarding how history follows a cyclical path due to human nature retaining its flaws, weaknesses, vulnerabilities and fortes throughout history.
We believe we have advanced because our inventions, discoveries, and technology, but the desire for wealth, power and control over others still consumes a sociopathic portion of mankind who tend to rise to the top through any means necessary.
As Huxley lamented in the 1950’s, technological progress has actually propelled mankind backwards in terms of its humanity and relationship with nature and other human beings.
The very technology we glorify as an example of our advancement is now being used by the totalitarians to imprison us Americans.
We're just victims of the telephone.
-Tin Lead Hat lyrics
And if that’s not bad enough…
…they demand the rest of the world to accept the chains and shackles that they have enslaved Americans with.
Accept or die!
This is unacceptable to the rest of the world
A "rule based" agreement is one that no longer follows the UN, and recognizes independence of nations with inherent sovereignty. No. Instead it demands that the United States is the leader of the world and that all other regions must bow to it in subservience.
It has happened slowly and methodically over decades as generation after generation have entered the government indoctrination centers (public schools) to be taught ignorance and obedience to the state.
This indoctrination has been reinforced by ceaseless propaganda injected into their brains by media conglomerates doing the bidding of the state.
The dystopian use of disinformation, false narratives, blatant lies and propaganda by the totalitarians constituting the Deep State, has aggravated the crisis situation that America finds itself in today.
An honest truth-seeking press with unbiased journalists would have uncovered this conspiracy and revealed the truthful facts to a concerned public.
Instead, a completely captured corporate media has turned a blind eye to the truth as they have acted as accomplices of the coup culprits.
Just as evil is the suppression of truth through censorship and keeping silent regarding the truth.
Huxley understood how totalitarian propagandists operated decades before the current batch of Silicon Valley authoritarians initiated their national truth repression scheme.
I’m amazed by the extreme level of ignorance exhibited by a vast swath of our population, as they glory in believing comforting mistruths which confirm their preordained belief structure.
They don’t know because they don’t want to know.
They are intoxicated by the endless stream of idiocy emanating from their iGadgets, as they willfully choose [1] ignorance over awareness, [2] servitude over freedom, and [3] captivity over liberty.
As Huxley predicted, the controlling oligarchy has used technology to convince people to love their servitude.
Meanwhile, the sheeple unthinkingly believe what they are told by their government and media mouthpieces.
5G causes cancer.
China is evil.
GMO’s are good.
The SPA killer was not a racist.
Trump is going to build a wall.
Hillary is going to jail.
Jeff Sessions is playing 54D chess.
Elections are not rigged.
Taxes are good for the economy.
Peeing in a cup to get a job is modern and useful.
Everyone must pay taxes, and American taxes are the lowest in the world.
Meanwhile, the sheeple blind to their manipulation , go on doing the bidding of the government and oligarchs who control the government.
The goal of the ruling class is to keep people from thinking,.
And therefore most Americans willingly oblige because thinking is hard and the uncomfortable truths are too much to bear for the satiated masses.
But there is a minority who want the truth and are willing and able to deal with the consequences. They realize facts don’t cease to exist because we ignore them. Facts don’t care about your beliefs or feelings.
Facts lead you to the truth.
And the immense coverup of facts boggles the mind of every critical thinking person on the planet.
So let’s look at the “facts” and the truths regarding the Fourth Turning.
“The Grey Champion”
Based on the Fourth Turning generational theory, there is no doubt Donald Trump was the prophet-generation Grey-Champion.
The term Grey Champion does not mean they are a great, noble, humane person. Ben Franklin, Abraham Lincoln, and Franklin Delano Roosevelt were not nice guys. They did whatever they thought necessary to achieve their means during our previous three Fourth Turnings. Millions of Americans hated Lincoln and Roosevelt, just as tens of millions hate Trump.
The Grey Champion’s appearance marks the arrival of a moment of “darkness, and adversity, and peril,” as the violent turmoil climax of the Fourth Turning approaches.
Trump and Pence are from the Prophet (Boomer) Generation, while Biden is from the Silent Generation and Harris is Generation X.
Trump is the lightning rod for a clash that must take place to sweep away the existing corrupted social order and replace it with something new.
And he was swept away…
Every four years we hear the same pablum about this being the most important election of our lifetime. It didn’t matter who won the election, the Deep State, Military Industrial Complex, Wall Street controlled Federal Reserve, Big Business, Big Pharma, Big Media, Silicon Valley Titans, and Billionaires like Soros, Bloomberg and Gates are still running the show.
One man has extraordinarily little chance of confronting these wealthy power-hungry sociopaths and winning.
And thus we see Biden and his cronies follow Trump and his cronies road-map for America.
Sorry to say.
The PTB has successfully convinced a willfully ignorant populace to love their servitude and acquiesce to allowing them unfettered control over their lives.
However, the tyrannical lockdowns, martial law like mandates from bureaucrats, compulsory masking as a requirement to be accepted in society, and the dehumanizing of our daily lives has created a Resistance, peaceful thus far, who are enraged by what is happening.
Domestic turmoil and dangerous International actions
If you read the Alt-Right or the Alt-Left there is little mention about the international chaos that America has created. It’s mostly a regurgitation of the anti-China, or anti-Russia, or anti-Iran narratives.
It’s not a balanced and accurate appraisal of the shit-storm that America has created.
Here’s a typical example from an Alt-Right website. Obviously the author has never visited China. Because his statements are simple regurgitation of the PTB narratives about China and so outlandish that real Chinese expats do more than shake our heads in disbelief, we actually laugh at him!
Check out this nonsense…
China, which has been the driving world economic force for the last decade, is in a precarious position.
They have been the slave labor manufacturer to the world as the worldwide debt fueled consumption orgy reached its 2008 climax.
Their level of Keynesian mal-investment since 2008 makes Obama, Bernanke, and Yellen look like pikers.
The level of corruption, deception, wealth inequality, pollution, censorship and phony economic data has been done on a majestic scale.
It is now unraveling in a slow motion crash as the global recession has crushed their industrial output and is rapidly deflating their real estate bubble. The 52 million unoccupied housing units in China may not turn out to be great investments after all.
The absurdity of Chinese economic reports makes the BLS look highly accurate and upstanding.
Their reported GDP of 7.4% was their slowest in 24 years, but the real figure is closer to 4%.
The proof of the dramatic slowing in Chinese growth is the collapse in oil prices, copper prices, iron ore prices, and the Baltic Dry Index.
The index measures world trade and has crashed to its lowest level ever. The potential for social unrest when their mal-investment debt bubbles implode will be great.
-Conspiracy Analysist
Like I said, it’s a regurgitation of the American PTB narrative.
And all FALSE.
And all LIES.
And sheeple believe it, because it makes their pathetic lives seem better.
They aren’t.
And you know Americans believe this, and since they believe everything the PTB tells them to believe, they will also go along with this John Bolton statement…
“A by-no-means-comprehensive list of Beijing’s transgressions that require U.S. attention would include: meddling, blatant and subtle, with U.S. public opinion;
Sure…
We can just tell how successful that interference has been right? How many Americans believe that China is doing better than the United States, eh?
Or check out this line that sheeple can repeat in their sleep…
"...and genocide against Uyghurs"
Gosh, the Chinese must be so fucking incompetent. After all the Uyghur population has grown by a factor of ten times plus over the last few years. Pretty hard to have a genocide where the population increases…
All the Chinese just can’t do anything right!
</sarcasm>
Just sheeple repeating what they have read. Not what they have experienced first hand. Just what they have read about fourth-hand.
Remember boys and girls, the definition of what a sheeple is.
Sheeple is a person who is very emotional about something they read about, not by something that they have personally experienced first-hand, up front, and personal.
Yuppur. Any day now… China is going to collapse. It’s just like the USA only far, far worse…
Sure….
I read all about it on FOX, Rush Limbaugh, the NYPost, CNN, and Alex Jones. So it must be the truth!
Look at China crumble before our very eyes!
Just Look!
According to the American media, China is going to collapse any day now. Communism will show it’s ugly face, and the Chinese people will rise up and yearn for “democracy” and the superior “American way of life!”. Do not hold your breath.
Sure…
It’s falling apart. People are starving, and they are rising up demanding “democracy” and Pepe the frog! And singing the Star Bangled Banner and American flags. They so desperately yearn for the American way of life!
Look at them!
According to the American media, China is going to collapse any day now. Communism will show it’s ugly face, and the Chinese people will rise up and yearn for “democracy” and the superior “American way of life!”. Do not hold your breath.
Sure…
Look at all those impoverished and miserable people!
According to the American media, China is going to collapse any day now. Communism will show it’s ugly face, and the Chinese people will rise up and yearn for “democracy” and the superior “American way of life!”. Do not hold your breath.
Sure…
China is terribly polluted, dirty, grimy, full of disease and germs. Terrible, terrible germs! Only a moron would want to live in that shit-hole!
According to the American media, China is going to collapse any day now. Communism will show it’s ugly face, and the Chinese people will rise up and yearn for “democracy” and the superior “American way of life!”. Do not hold your breath.
Sure…
America needs to put some “boots on the ground” and liberate the poor misguided and brainwashed Chinese. The government must be destroyed because after all, America loves the Chinese, it’s the government that it hates!
Right?
According to the American media, China is going to collapse any day now. Communism will show it’s ugly face, and the Chinese people will rise up and yearn for “democracy” and the superior “American way of life!”. Do not hold your breath.
Sure…
</sarcasm>
Ugh!
This is true in what ever form that the PTB controlled government is pushing at the moment. Whether it is COVID, or 5G, or Huawei, or Tiktok, it’s all a echo of what the government wants the sheeple to repeat.
And the sheeple does repeat it, with the worst offenders being those who read the alt-right outlets.
But it doesn’t really matter.
What we do know is Fourth Turnings always accelerate and intensify towards a bloody finale, with clear winners and losers.
There will be clear winners.
There will be clear losers.
Unconditional surrender will be demanded by those maintaining the upper hand. As was clearly articulated in the March 2021 Alaska meeting between the USA and China.
Whether this coming conflict remains domestic or spreads internationally, the “advancements” in the technology of destruction will endanger every human being on the planet.
You cannot escape the impact of Fourth Turnings, only survive and/or do your part in helping achieve a positive outcome.
There is no predetermined ending.
“The risk of catastrophe will be very high. The nation could erupt into insurrection or civil violence, crack up geographically, or succumb to authoritarian rule.
If there is a war, it is likely to be one of maximum risk and effort – in other words, a total war.
Every Fourth Turning has registered an upward ratchet in the technology of destruction, and in mankind’s willingness to use it.”
– Strauss & Howe – The Fourth Turning
When pondering the possible outcomes of this Fourth Turning, we tend to be drawn towards the negative, because a positive outcome seems so unlikely given the current animosity roiling the country.
If you step back and realize all the hate and conflict is being engineered and coordinated by a ruling class of powerful rich men, then average Americans could organize a new paradigm that honors the original intent of the U.S. Constitution, allowing citizens the liberty and freedom to create voluntary associations based upon common interests at a local level.
The ruling oligarchs find this unacceptable, so this freedom must be wrested away from them by any means necessary.
There is a civil war already underway, but only one side is fighting…
… the billionaire class who not only don’t want to relinquish some power, but want total control over every aspect of our lives. It appears that this action will turn this one-sided silent war into a hot war on both the domestic and international fronts.
The Enemy.
Everyone is fighting
The American Empire is clearly in rapid decline and may not survive the trials and tribulations over the coming decade.
The Fourth Turning is not a prophecy, but should be taken as a warning and call to action. Sitting this out and hoping for the best will not help achieve a positive outcome.
Tragedy or triumph – the choices we make will matter.
The climax of this Fourth Turning may be a few years off, but the battle for the soul of America has already engaged.
“History offers no guarantees.
Obviously, things could go horribly wrong – the possibilities ranging from a nuclear exchange to incurable plagues, from terrorist anarchy to high-tech dictatorship.
We should not assume that Providence will always exempt our nation from the irreversible tragedies that have overtaken so many others: not just temporary hardship, but debasement and total ruin.
Losing in the next Fourth Turning could mean something incomparably worse.
It could mean a lasting defeat from which our national innocence – perhaps even our nation – might never recover.”
– Strauss & Howe – The Fourth Turning
Internationally speaking…
We have yet to see how long it will be before the Biden administration realizes its few victories will be unaffordably Pyrrhic.
Indeed, as simple as merely not responding to American provocation the Chinese/Russian partnership will emerge as the victors.
America is truly fucked.
Halford Mackinder’s century-old vision of a Eurasian superstate, based between the Volga and the Yangtse, is becoming reality.
Deal with it.
Embrace it.
Commentators usually fail to understand why; it is not due to military superiority, but down to simple economics.
While the US economy suffers a post-lockdown inflationary outcome and an existential crisis for the dollar, China’s economy will boom on the back of increasing domestic consumption.
This is an official Chinese government objective.
Meanwhile it is increasing exports, the consequence of America’s stimulation of consumer demand and a soaring budget deficit.
For America, it’s a lose – lose.
The Chinese-Russian partnership already dominates or controls Mackinder’s World Island, defined as Eurasia and all Africa.
South-east Asian nations notionally in the US’s sphere of influence are firmly tied to the partnership’s economy.
And the overland and sea silk roads similarly bind the EU and the Indian and Western Pacific Oceans’ states respectively.
Combined, it amounts to over half the world’s population no longer sharing the economic and currency interests of 328 million Americans.
Imagine that!
We are now equipped to ask an important question: the US status quo, with its dollar hegemony is seen by the new Biden administration as an unchallengeable right, and its position as the world’s hegemon is vital for… .
…what?
What it is “vital” for?
The benefit of the world, or the benefit of the US at the world’s expense?
Hum?
To answer this, we must consider it from the point of view of the US military and intelligence complex.
The problem facing us is that the Pentagon became fully institutionalised in managing America’s external security following the second world war.
When the Soviets extended their sphere of influence into the three great undeveloped continents, Asia, Africa and South America, there was a case for defending capitalism and freedom — or at least freedom in an American sense by keeping minor nations on side.
This was done by fair means and often foul for expediency’s sake.
But the fall of the Berlin Wall and the death of Mao Zedong made the American military and intelligence functions largely superfluous, other than matters more directly related to national defense.
But it is in the nature of government departments and their private sector contractors to do everything in their power to retain both influence and budgets, and the argument that new threats will arise is always hard for politicians to resist….
…especially for a military empire.
And what do the statists in a government department do when they have secured their survival?
Their retention of power without real purpose descends into alternative military objectives. And from the first Bush president, they were all firmly on-message.
As we see today with the American military empire.
President Trump was the first president for some time not to start military engagements abroad. His attempts to wind down foreign operations were strongly resisted by defense and intelligence services.
And his efforts to obtain a détente with North Korea were met with disdain — even horror at Langley.
But war-monger he did.
And he left a legacy of the most comprehensive non-hot-war attacks in history.
From the hybrid-wars, to carpet bombing livestock to produce famines inside of China, he was relentless.
And while no one WANTS to talk about the sorry truth, COVID-19 is an American bio-weapons attack upon China.
No.
Not the “inoculation strain” COVID-19A that all the “news” is hyping about. But the strain that was unleashed on China, Iran, North Korea and Russia; the lethal strain, the COVID-19B.
Whatever the truth in these matters, it is highly unlikely that the power conferred by the ability to initiate unchallengeable cover-ups, information management, subversion of foreign states and secret intelligence operations is not abused.
They are.
That’s a fact jack.
And we can see this through the proliferation and traction of “conspiracy theories”. Now, mostly and falsely attributed in their origin to Russian cyber-attacks and disinformation.
It’s all a consequence of one’s own government continually bending the truth to the point where large sections of the population begin to believe it is its own government’s propaganda.
We call them “sheeple.”
And no one is immune. Event the most vehement Alt-Right or alt-left media, who believes that they are independent thinkers, regurgitate the narratives pumped out for them to consume.
This brings us to the change in administration.
As a senator, Biden had interests in foreign affairs dating back to the late 1970s and was on the Senate Foreign Relations Committee from 1997 and subsequently became its chairman.
As such a long-standing politician in this field it is almost certain that the Pentagon establishment regards Biden as a safe pair of hands; in other words, a president who is likely to support Langley’s role in setting geopolitical and defence priorities.
Surely, for them this is a welcome change from the off-message President Trump.
Policies to contain the Russian threat
Despite the Navalny affair, Putin is still unchallengeable as Russian leader, having emerged from the post-Soviet turmoil where chaos and organized crime were the order of the day.
No western leader has had such a tough political background and Putin is a survivor, a strongman firmly in control.
Vladimir Putin
This matters for America and NATO with respect to policies in Ukraine, the Caucasus, Syria, Iran and Turkey.
Any attempt by America to complete unfinished business in Ukraine (a triparty scrap involving Russia, Germany/EU and the US over the Nord Stream pipelines depriving Ukraine of transition revenues is already brewing) is likely to lead to confrontations with Russia on the ground.
And Russia signed a military cooperation pact with Iran in 2015.
Like a cat with a mouse, Putin is playing with Turkey, interested in laying pipelines to southern Europe, and getting it to drift out of NATO. Russia’s interest in Syria is to keep it out of America’s sphere of influence, which with Turkey’s help it has managed to do.
For some time, military analysts have been telling us that we are now in a cyber war with Russia, accusing it of interfering in elections and promoting conspiracy theories …
… with the US presidential election last November being the most recent assertion.
As with all these allegations there is no proof offered, just statements from government sources which have a track record of being economical with the truth.
Erp. They lie.
Whatever the truth may be, cyber wars are closely intertwined with propaganda.
Attacks on Russia since the millennium have been by disrupting dollar payments, and less importantly, by sanctioning individuals close to Putin.
The monetary threat was originally justified by Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in 2014, leading to the collapse of the rouble and a hike in interest rates.
The new cold war had taken a financial turn. Russia’s response was to reduce the economy’s dependence on dollars as much as possible, with the central bank selling dollar reserves and adding gold in their place.
It also set up a new payments system to reduce its dependence on the SWIFT interbank payments system.
Russia has survived all financial attacks and is now better insulated against them for the future.
One-zero for the Russians.
But the cost has been hidden, with western investment restricted to being mainly from the EU (particularly directed at the oil and gas industries).
For these and other reasons being pushed by the United States, Russia has turned to China as both a partner and an economic protector. In return, Russia is resource-rich, an energy provider, and therefore of great value to China.
Not to mention militarily, as the demands made by the United States in Alaska clearly pointed to.
The Russian and Chinese geopolitical partnership
One of the first persons to identify the geopolitical importance of Russia’s resources was Halford Mackinder in a paper for the Royal Geographical Society in 1904. He later developed it into his Heartland theory.
Mackinder argued that control of the Heartland, which stretched from the Volga to the Yangtze, would control the “World-Island”, which was his term for all Europe, Asia and Africa. Over a century later, Mackinder’s theory resonates with the two leading nations behind the Shanghai Cooperation Organization (SCO).
The Shanghai Cooperation Organisation (SCO) is a permanent intergovernmental international organisation, the creation of which was announced on 15 June 2001 in Shanghai (China) by the Republic of Kazakhstan, the People's Republic of China, the Kyrgyz Republic, the Russian Federation, the Republic of Tajikistan, and theRepublic of Uzbekistan.
-About SCO | SCO
The underlying point is that North and South America, Britain, Japan and Australasia in the final analysis are peripheral and less important than Mackinder’s World-Island.
And he was correct.
There was a time when British and then American primacy outweighed its importance, but this may no longer be true.
If Mackinder’s vision is valid about the overriding importance of undeveloped resources, Russia is positioned to become with China the most powerful national partnership on earth.
It has happened.
And the BRI is facilitating this.
Which is why there is such a stink about the Uighur Muslims in Xinjiang. Which is the gateway to the Belt and Road Initiative.
The SCO is the greatest challenge yet mounted to American economic power and technological supremacy.
And Russia and China are clearly determined to ditch the dollar. We don’t yet know what will replace it – officially. Though, the e-yuan has been implemented throughout China, and is taking over Asia as we speak.
However, the fact that the Russian central bank and nearly all the other central banks and governments in the SCO have been increasing their gold reserves for some time could be an important clue as to how the representatives of three billion Euro-Asians — almost half the world’s population — see the future of trans-Asian money.
In terms of GDP per capita the United States is a long way ahead of the field.
But…
GDP is an artificial measure of national wealth. When there becomes a stratification of society, and the riches 0.001% of the population have a stratospheric control of the finances, they skew the measurement beyond useful utility.
As well as the United States is also the most indebted at the national level.
The difference with the SCO is at the purchasing power parity level, making market prices of secondary importance.
While prices regionally vary considerably the costs of goods in the SCO are as an average considerably less than in the US and EU, so that on a PPP basis the SCO’s GDP is significantly greater than that of the US or the EU.
The inclusion of the EU is a post-Brexit nod to the fact that the EU can no longer be automatically regarded as being within the US sphere of influence.And certainly the United States leadership does not like this one bit.
The commercial ties to the SCO, with both energy reliance from Russia and silk road (BRI) rail terminals in various EU states are clearly the trade future for the EU.
The EU is advanced in its plans to bring national forces under its combined flag, which by giving them an EU identity can only loosen NATO ties with America.
While not an active threat to America’s power, one can envisage the EU sitting on the fence in an intensifying cold war.
The SCO started life in 2001 as a security partnership between Russia and China, incorporating the ‘stans to the east of the Caspian Sea. Born out an earlier organization, the Shanghai Five Group, it was set up to combat terrorism, separatism and extremism.
It is still a platform for joint military exercises, but none have taken place since 2007 and it has morphed into a loose economic partnership instead.
Since the founding Shanghai Five, the SCO now includes India and Pakistan.
Observer status includes Afghanistan, Belarus, Iran and Mongolia. These nations can attend SCO conferences, but their participation is very limited.
Dialogue partners include Armenia, Azerbaijan, Cambodia, Nepal, Sri Lanka and Turkey. These nations can participate actively in SCO conferences, and this status is seen as a preliminary to full membership.
Egypt and Syria have applied for observer status and Israel, Iraq and Saudi Arabia have applied to be dialog partners.
Apart from South East Asian nations, which are dominated by a Chinese diaspora anyway, SCO members and their influence covers almost all of Halford Mackinder’s World Island, with the exception of the European Union.
This is the reality that faces American hegemony; there are twenty-one nations across Asia in a non-American alliance, or on the cusp of joining it.
All the other European and Asian nations are within the SCO’s sphere of influence through trade, even if not politically affiliated.
It is getting more difficult to define the nations definitely in the US pocket, other than its five-eyes partners (Canada, the UK, Australia and New Zealand). This simple fact places severe limitations on US action against China, and to a lesser extent Russia.
…
Bet you didn’t know that.
It is an exaggeration to suggest that an attack on one member state is an attack on them all. Their cooperation is fundamentally economic rather than military; except…
… as stated above, the SCO’s original function remains to eliminate terrorism, separatism and extremism.
Indeed, India and Pakistan are at loggerheads over Kashmir, and China and India have border disputes in the Himalayas.
But attempts, by, say, the US to prize India away from the SCO is bound to generate wider issues, and perhaps a response, from the other members.
Who do you go with?
Other Nations around the world have a choice.
Broadly, it is to go with America, to go with China/Russia, or sit on the fence.
We have already concluded that the EU’s economic interests in the wake of Brexit are turning it into being a fence-sitter instead of continuing to be in the US sphere of influence. American cannot count on the WU to join in any partnership that opposes the unified Russian-Chinese-Iranian nexus.
Other nations all seem to have a seemingly insatiable demand for commodities and energy and infrastructure building. America is unable to provide this. Which means that local politicians have been bought through local prosperity and will stay bought. But if America offers more money in bales like in the past, these nations’ politicians will undoubtedly take it. As they have always done in the past.
But that is unlikely to lead to their political allegiance changing from being with China.
This form of American diplomacy was at its height in the fifties and sixties, and the US was able to outgun the Soviets and Chinese in providing “aid”, much of which was trousered by politicians.
This was particularly true of the oil money recycled by American banks into loans to South American governments in the late seventies.
The Chinese are not so careless with money: when they build a bridge on a Caribbean island, they are firmly hands-on providing money, management and some of the labor and local politicians are only rewarded with electoral kudos.
There are, therefore, fundamental differences between attempts to keep a country within a particular sphere of influence sixty years ago and today.
And there can be no doubt that the Chinese are winning the game.
America has no skills, no resources, and no abilities any longer. All America has are buckets of paper money that is rapidly losing value, and an enormous military war machine. It’s guns and money. Guns and money. Guns and money.
Guns and money.
Overland, across the China Sea and the Indian Ocean, the silk roads and associated projects are having a substantial impact on emerging nations in a way not seen before.
China has advanced Mackinder’s World Island concept by embracing most of Africa into its sphere of influence.
As well as the SCO’s control over Asia from Vladivostok to the Mediterranean, as the largest oil consumer China’s influence over the Middle East — which supplies little or no oil to the US — binds nations in that region into the SCO.
The contrast with America’s foreign policy under Trump could not have been greater.
America became autarkic, determined to repatriate production from abroad.
AutarkyAutarky is the characteristic of self-sufficiency, usually applied to societies, communities, states and their economic systems.
Autarky as an ideal or method has been embraced by a wide range of political ideologies and movements, especially left-wing ideologies like African socialism, mutualism, war communism, council communism, Communalism, Swadeshi, syndicalism and leftist populism, generally in an effort to build alternative economic structures or to control resources against structures a particular movement views as hostile.
Conservative, centrist and nationalist movements have also adopted autarky in an attempt to preserve part of an existing social order or to develop a particular industry.
Some fascist and far-right movements occasionally espoused autarky as a goal.-Wikipedia
It lacked a strategy to counter China’s rapidly growing spheres of influence.
Even the EU integrated major elements of its economy with China and Russia, and now that the US’s only five-eyes representative in the EU has left it, we can expect this integration to increase more rapidly.
Instead, Trump concentrated on attacking China, its technology and Hong Kong.
China faced tariffs, prompting her to respond partly in kind.
Meng Wanzhou, finance officer for Huawei, was detained in Vancouver on a US extradition request, on the pretext of payments involving Iran.
Her arrest was the start of a US campaign to exclude Huawei from G5 mobile contracts in the west, pressure that eventually led the UK to downgrade Huawei’s contracts.
It ended up uniting the five-eyes security partnership against China’s technology on a reds-under-the-bed argument: “Chinese technology embedded in western communications systems gives them the ability to spy on us.”
The UK’s GCHQ changed its position from there being no evidence of embedded spyware in Huawei equipment to it being vulnerable to being used for spying by the Chinese government.
Hong Kong
The build-up of riots against Hong Kong’s proposed extradition treaty with the Mainland started in 2019, supported and driven by anti-Chinese propaganda.
America finally emerged as China’s adversary, no longer just a trading partner worried by the trade imbalances.
And Hong Kong was the pressure point.
This had happened before, in 2014.
The Chinese leadership was certain the riots in Hong Kong at that time reflected the work of American intelligence agencies.
The following is an extract translated from a speech by Major-General Qiao Liang, a leading strategist for the Peoples’ Liberation Army, addressing the Chinese Communist Party’s Central Committee in 2015:
“Since the Diaoyu Islands conflict and the Huang-yan Island conflict, incidents have kept popping up around China, including the confrontation over China’s 981 oil rigs with Vietnam and Hong Kong’s “Occupy Central” event.
"Can they still be viewed as simply accidental?“I accompanied General Liu Yazhou, the Political Commissar of the National Defence University, to visit Hong Kong in May 2014. At that time, we heard that the “Occupy Central” movement was being planned and could take place by end of the month. However, it didn’t happen in May, June, July, or August.“What happened? What were they waiting for?“Let’s look at another timetable: the U.S. Federal Reserve’s exit from the Quantitative Easing (QE) policy. The U.S. said it would stop QE at the beginning of 2014. But it stayed with the QE policy in April, May, June, July, and August. As long as it was in QE, it kept overprinting dollars, and the dollar‘s price couldn’t go up. Thus, Hong Kong’s “Occupy Central” should not happen either.“At the end of September, the Federal Reserve announced the U.S. would exit from QE. The dollar started going up. Then Hong Kong’s “Occupy Central” broke out in early October.“Actually, the Diaoyu Islands, Huang-yan Island, the 981 rigs, and Hong Kong’s “Occupy Central” movement were all bombs. The successful explosion of any one of them would lead to a regional crisis or a worsened investment environment around China. That would force the withdrawal of a large amount of investment from this region, which would then return to the U.S.”
That America organized discontent anew in Hong Kong is still China’s view today.
It’s hard to dispute, as all of Hong Kong is wired with 5G and video. And the videos of American diplomats, and UK NGOS’ training the rioters, and supervising the destruction, and making agreements with the key leaders have been well publicized throughout Asia.
Not in America.
Of course.
Clearly, the Chinese believe America covertly managed “Occupy Central” and therefore were at it again.
Apart from what their spies told them, the protests were too well organized and planned to be spontaneous. This time, the attack appeared to have a better chance of success. The plan was coordinated with American pressure on Hong Kong’s dollar peg in an attempt to destabilize it, principally through the threat to extend tariffs against China to Hong Kong.
This second attempt to collapse Hong Kong was therefore more serious.
Hong Kong is critical, because it is the channel for foreign investment portfolio flows into China.
This was important to the Americans, because the US Treasury could not afford to see global portfolio flows attracted into China at a time when they were needed to invest in increasing quantities of US Treasury stock.
Understand that, and you will have grasped a large part of the urgency behind America’s attempt to destabilize Hong Kong.
Qiao Liang makes this point elsewhere in his aforementioned speech, claiming American tactics are the consequence of the ending of Bretton Woods:
“Without the restriction of gold, the US can print dollars at will.
If they keep a large amount of dollars inside the US, it will certainly create inflation.
If they export dollars to the world, the whole world is helping the US deal with its inflation.
That’s why inflation is not high in the US.”
While one can take some minor issues with his simplistic analysis, that is not the point.
What matters is what the Chinese believe.
It was after that second attempt by America to destabilize Hong Kong that the Chinese concluded they must take direct control of the region, isolate and remove the NGO’s and CIA agents involved in this effort, and secure the region to prevent any future disruptions.
China makes mistakes too
China’s strategy in dealing with America has generally been to be slow to respond, and never to provoke. This accords with Sun Tzu’s The Art of War on tactical dispositions:
“To secure ourselves against defeat lies in our own hands, but the opportunity of defeating the enemy is provided by the enemy himself.”
Generally, China’s strategy has been to refuse to be provoked.
A possible exception has been Hong Kong, where it was decided it was more important to secure the island against further attack, overriding the terms of the treaty with the UK.
But its greatest mistake was in imposing trade tariffs in a tit-for-tat response to US tariffs.
Economic factors
Before the pandemic and with America targeting Chinese exports, China’s leadership introduced policies to encourage domestic consumption.
For this to work required a drop in the savings rate.
In fact, it has been falling since 2010, when according to the World Bank it peaked at 51% of GDP, to just under 44% in 2019.
It was the difference between Chinese and American savings rates which was the driving factor behind their mutual trade imbalance.
China recognizes that it must move on from an export-driven economic model.
But while the American and other welfare-driven economies are running mounting budget deficits, China will continue to have a growing trade surplus.
While this will continue to be a problem for the Americans, without imported goods from China product shortages would simply fuel higher prices on top of unprecedented monetary expansion.
This is the reality behind the cold war for the next few years.
Unfortunately, being highly Keynesian the new Biden administration is unlikely to accept the twin deficits argument and will think that it can still call the shots on trade without cutting its own spending. But the above showed US government debt to GDP is already over $28 trillion and on Biden’s infrastructure and greening plans alone will likely rise significantly further by this fiscal year.
The combination of increasing consumer demand while exports to America boom gives China a window of economic expansion only enjoyed by its Asian neighbors.
The contrast between China’s prospects can hardly be greater than those for America.
The economics alone militate strongly against the US pursuing a geopolitical objective other than quietly backing off.
But senior US personnel are still acting as if the Chinese should kowtow to America, as evidenced in the proceedings in Alaska in March 2021.
The Chinese were robust and will have calculated their position as strong.
Sun Tzu again:
“Therefore the clever combatant imposes his will on the enemy but does not allow the enemy’s will to be imposed on him”.
What we are facing
The Biden presidency faces significant challenges in the ongoing cold war and America is unlikely to retain its hegemonic status.
During Trump’s presidency, attempts to curtail China’s trade and technological development did not succeed.
Instead it has brought China, Russia and Iran together, as well as emboldened both China and Russia to stand firm and as much as possible to do without America and its dollar.
The American senior advisors are, or should be, acutely aware of the debt and inflation traps facing the US and also the EU.
Following the Fed’s policies of accelerated monetary expansion announced last March, China increased her purchases of commodities and raw materials, in effect signalling she prefers them to dollar liquidity.
As a policy, it is likely to be extended further, given China’s existing stockpile of dollars and dollar-denominated debt.
Her dilemma is not just the fragile state of the US economy, but that of the EU which on any dispassionate analysis is a state failing economically and politically as well.
China will not want to be blamed for triggering a series of events which will get everyone reaching out for their forgotten copy of Hayek’s The Road to Serfdom.
F.A. Hayek’s Road to Serfdom is a true classic on political philosophy. Anyone keen on this field and in the practice of policy will be remiss to by-pass this magnum opus.Hayek is characteristically brilliant in his rendition of an Idea: he can easily walk you through the intricacies of logical and theoretical argument for a case yet combine it masterfully with practical examples in economics and history. He is balanced, impartial and frank.For classical liberals, this is a timeless jewel worthy of Locke, Acton, Tocqueville et al.Simply a masterpiece.
-Amazon
As events take their course, the risk of a dollar collapse and a matching crisis in the euro, though for different reasons, increases.
For Mackinder’s heartland theory to be proved and for the Russian and Chinese partnership to be in control of it, a mega-crisis facing the profligate money-printers must happen.
All history and a priori economic theory confirm it will happen.
The SCO’s Plan B will be a continuance of Plan A, hatched out of the Shanghai Five Group, making the World Island a self-contained unit not dependent on the peripherals — principally, the five eyes.
The Five EyesThe Five Eyes is an intelligence alliance comprising Australia, Canada, New Zealand, the United Kingdom, and theUnited States. These countries are parties to the multilateral UKUSA Agreement, a treaty for joint cooperation in signals intelligence.
-Wikipedia
For money, China, Russia and the rest of Asia must give up western ways with unbacked state currencies.
Between them they have enough state-owned declared and undeclared gold to back the yuan, and the rouble.
Give these two currencies free convertibility into gold, and they will be accepted everywhere, so their old cold war enemies can trade their way back to prosperity.
The US has, or says it has, enough gold to put a failing dollar back on a gold standard, but for it to be credible it must [1] radically cut spending, [2] cut back its geopolitical ambitions, and [3] return its budget into balance.
All highly unlikely.
With luck, that is how the new cold war ends.
But don’t hold your breath.
America, and the rest of the nations that it is dragging along with it, are barrelling down towards a great and grand catastrophe.
Situation Report
The election of 2020 did nothing to change the leadership in Washington DC. They are just puppets for their handlers the oligarchy. While Biden is calmer and has swave, compared to Donald Trump, he is continuing all the polices that his predecessor implemented.
The election made no functional difference in anything.
You can read what ever you want in this realization, but I read it as exactly what it is. “Democracy” is dead. Voting whether actual, or corrupted, makes absolutely no difference in how the nation is run, governed or managed.
This knowledge, by itself is significant. It is one of those check boxes that you have on a sheet of paper when you get ready for a big event, gala or preparation for disaster.
I could go down the long list of alarm bells, flashing lights, elements of growing discontent all of which every single American is viewing in real time. These clamorous alarms have been banging away for decades, but their loudness has become so commonplace that most Americans just accept them as the “new reality”, and assume that things will just worsen in a gradual series of stages…
…not a big thunderous crash.
I beg to differ.
For there are things that most Americans have zero understanding of. And is the state of affairs outside the shores of the Untied States. And what passes for “American news” is anything but actual intel. Americans haven’t a clue as to what is going on “outside”.
Things are building up.
America, the large thrashing out of control elephant, is rampaging about and the rest of the world has armed themselves with tranquilizer guns, large nets, and heavy cages.
Russia, China and Iran are one solid block. They are now a close national entity. Surrounding these nations are allied nations. All working in their best interests, but will align with their large neighbors the sino-block.
Europe wants to sit on the fence, but the USA (through the five eyes) wants them to be pulled into the “us vs. them” USA against the world “rules based order”. They are not budging. Just trying to be as neutral as possible.
What is apparently happening is the isolation of the United States from the rest of the globe internationally.
USA/Canada plus the islands of UK, Australia, and NZ.
What we are watching (on the international scene) is the Asian block… the Sino-block … are holding off as long as possible in putting the thrashing elephant down. But they realize that doing so is a last resort. They do not want to do so, as there will be a backlash on the world.
America, the thrashing elephant has no idea how little it knows, is capable of, and what danger it is in. It is delusional.
…
I could get into the specific details like the strange blockage of all shipping in the Suez Canal, the Beirut explosion, the propaganda narratives, the Coronavirus, etc, etc…
These are just elements of a large game of chess that America is playing…
The timeline that they set up is still in play, though the attacks on China (that were planned) did not happen.
No starvation via bio-weapon carpet bombing of livestock.
No suppression of trade via propaganda and sanctions.
No incited revolutions in Hong Kong.
No unrest in Tibet, Xingjiang.
No “incident” in the South China Sea
None of that happened, and the attempt at war in the 2019 – 2020 time frame failed.
But we knew that that was would would happen.
Firstly, because China is not what the American (and Western media) thinks it is, and secondly because the date fro the crisis event has not yet hit.
If you can believe this; we are just building up to the event. There is still a couple of years to go yet.
The danger period is approaching; 2023 through 2026, centered around 2025.
Hold on to your britches boys and girls. Dicy times are a coming.
Taking note of “The Fourth Turning” and the Strauss and Howe generational theory of predictive behavior in America, we note that they predicted a Crisis Catalyst in 2005 and a Climax in 2020.
If the Crisis catalyst comes on schedule, around the year 2005, then the climax will be due around 2020, the resolution around 2026. What will America be like as it exits the Fourth Turning? History offers no guarantees. Obviously, things could go horribly wrong—the possibilities ranging from a nuclear exchange to incurable plagues, from terrorist anarchy to high-tech dictatorship. We should not assume that Providence will always exempt our nation from the irreversible tragedies that have overtaken so many others: not just temporary hardship, but debasement and total ruin. Since Vietnam, many Americans suppose they know what it means to lose a war. Losing in the next Fourth Turning, however, could mean something incomparably worse. It could mean a lasting defeat from which our national innocence—and perhaps even our nation—might never recover. As many Americans know from their own ancestral backgrounds, history provides numerous examples of societies that have been wiped off the map, ground into submission, or beaten so badly they revert to barbarism.
Indeed, the dates are close but seem to be off by a few years.
In our case, it appears that the “Crisis catalyst” did not occur in 2005 as predicted. It occurred in 2008 with the Wall Street “too big to fail” debacle.
That is three years later.
What does Mr. Howe say?
Below is a brief essay originally published on 3/11/19 by Neil Howe discussing the typical progression of each “Turning”. It remains more relevant than ever amidst our current zeitgeist. It was written nearly a year before 2020 showed it’s ugly, ugly face.
NH: We live in a tumultuous time in American history.
The 2008 financial crisis and all its hardships, was the catalyst that tipped us into this age of uncertainty. It marked the start of a generation-long era of secular upheaval that will continue to run its course over the next decade or so. This is the generational theory I laid out in “The Fourth Turning,” a book I co-authored with William Strauss in 1997.
The Fourth Turning explains the rise of a figure like President Trump. In Trump’s Inauguration Day speech, he painted a bleak picture of “American carnage,” of “rusted-out factories scattered like tombstones across the landscape of our nation” with “mothers and children trapped in poverty in our inner cities.”
Looking abroad, it’s unclear whether America will turn inward and fall prey to nativism or maintain it’s nearly seventy year role as leader of the Free World. Other countries are becoming similarly insular. Britain voted to exit the European Union and we’ve heard anti-E.U. rumblings echoed throughout Europe from France to the Netherlands.
Other nations and peoples around the world are looking to either fill the vacuum in global leadership or exploit it to advance their own ambitions. We’ve seen the thunderous rise of Chinese economic clout, the calculating geopolitical maneuvering of a resurgent Russia, and the barbarous chaos wrought by the so-called Islamic State.
In many ways, this era of uncertainty follows the natural order of things. Like Nature’s four seasons, the cycles of history follow a natural rhythm or pattern. Over the past five centuries, Anglo-American society has entered a new era – a new turning – every two decades or so.
At the start of each turning, people change how they feel about themselves, the culture, the nation, and the future. Turnings come in cycles of four. Each cycle spans the length of a long human life, roughly eighty to one hundred years, or a unit of time the ancients called the saeculum.
The First Turning is called a High.
This is an era when institutions are strong and individualism is weak. Society is confident about where it wants to go collectively, even if those outside the majoritarian center feel stifled by the conformity.
America’s most recent First Turning was the post-World War II American High, beginning in 1946 and ending with the assassination of John Kennedy in 1963, a key lifecycle marker for today’s older Americans.
The Second Turningis an Awakening.
This is an era when institutions are attacked in the name of personal and spiritual autonomy. Just when society is reaching its high tide of public progress, people suddenly tire of social discipline and want to recapture a sense of personal authenticity. Young activists and spiritualists look back at the previous High as an era of cultural poverty.
America’s most recent Awakening was the “Consciousness Revolution,” which spanned from the campus and inner-city revolts of the mid 1960s to the tax revolts of the early ‘80s.
The Third Turning is an Unravelling.
The mood of this era is in many ways the opposite of a High. Institutions are weak and distrusted, while individualism is strong and flourishing. Highs follow Crises, which teach the lesson that society must coalesce and build. Unravelings follow Awakenings, which teach the lesson that society must atomize and enjoy.
America’s most recent Unraveling was the Long Boom and Culture Wars, beginning in the early 1980s and probably ending in 2008. The era opened with triumphant “Morning in America” individualism and drifted toward a pervasive distrust of institutions and leaders, an edgy popular culture, and the splitting of national consensus into competing “values” camps.
And finally we enter the Fourth Turning, which is a Crisis.
This is an era in which America’s institutional life is torn down and rebuilt from the ground up—always in response to a perceived threat to the nation’s very survival. Civic authority revives, cultural expression finds a community purpose, and people begin to locate themselves as members of a larger group.
In every instance, Fourth Turnings have eventually become new “founding moments” in America’s history, refreshing and redefining the national identity. Currently, this period began in 2008, with the Global Financial Crisis and the deepening of the War on Terror, and will extend to around 2030.
If the past is any prelude to what is to come, as we contend, consider the prior Fourth Turning which was kicked off by the stock market crash of 1929 and climaxed with World War II.
Just as a Second Turning reshapes our inner world (of values, culture and religion), a Fourth Turning reshapes our outer world (of politics, economy and empire).
To be clear, the road ahead for America will be rough. But I take comfort in the idea that history cycles back and that the past offers us a guide to what we can expect in the future. Like Nature’s four seasons, the cycles of history follow a natural rhythm or pattern.
Make no mistake. Winter is coming. How mild or harsh it will be is anyone’s guess but the basic progression is as natural as counting down the days, weeks and months until Spring.
Exerpts from the book The Fourth Turning
In 1860-1861 southern states took the Lincoln victory as a de-facto proof that the North would increasingly seek to impose its will upon the south (they were right, but losing the war actually made it happen faster and more completely).
What people generally forget is that all states had large militias that were beholden ONLY to the states, and people had much more belief and legal adherence to the individual states, than now.
Terrorist actions do not start a war, because you cannot really go to war conventionally against terrorism. What happened in the 1860's is that state governments formed a new nation in rebellion.
Personally I don't think the Left or the Right, as a whole, have the balls to do this today. But I guess we'll see. Eventually the threats become real enough that it's hard to ignore them and just hope everything goes back to normal.
-Aerindel, SoJ_51 and Observer
This is straight from the book …
“Something happened to America at that time,” recalled U.S. Senator Daniel Inouye on V-J Day in 1995, the last of the 50-year commemoratives of World War II. “I’m not wise enough to know what it was. But it was the strange, strange power that our founding fathers experienced in those early, uncertain days. Let’s call it the spirit of America, a spirit that united and galvanized our people.” Inouye went on to reflect wistfully on an era when the nation considered no obstacle too big, no challenge too great, no goal too distant, no sacrifice too deep. A half-century later, that old spirit had long since dissipated, and nobody under age 70 remembered what it felt like. When Joe Dawson reenacted his D-Day parachute drop over Normandy, he said he did it “to show our country that there was a time when our nation moved forward as one unit.”
The Eternal Return
On the earthen floors of their rounded hogans, Navajo artists sift colored sand to depict the four seasons of life and time. Their ancestors have been doing this for centuries. They draw these sand circles in a counter-clockwise progression, one quadrant at a time, with decorative icons for the challenges of each age and season. When they near the end of the fourth season, they stop the circle, leaving a small gap just to the right of its top. This signifies the moment of death and rebirth, what the Hellenics called ekpyrosis. By Navajo custom, this moment can be provided (and the circle closed) only by God, never by mortal man. All the artist can do is rub out the painting, in reverse seasonal order, after which a new circle can be begun. Thus, in the Navajo tradition, does seasonal time stage its eternal return.
Like most traditional peoples, the Navaho accept not just the circularity of life, but also its perpetuity. Each generation knows its ancestors have drawn similar circles in the sand—and each expects its heirs to keep drawing them. The Navaho ritually reenact the past while anticipating the future. Thus do they transcend time.
Modern societies too often reject circles for straight lines between starts and finishes. Believers in linear progress, we feel the need to keep moving forward. The more we endeavor to defeat nature, the more profoundly we land at the mercy of its deeper rhythms. Unlike the Navajo, we cannot withstand the temptation to try closing the circle ourselves and in the manner of our own liking. Yet we cannot avoid history’s last quadrant. We cannot avoid the Fourth Turning, nor its ekpyrosis. Whether we welcome him or not, the Gray Champion will command our duty and sacrifice at a moment of Crisis. Whether we prepare wisely or not, we will complete the Millennial Saeculum. The epoch that began with V.J.-Day will reach a natural climax—and come to an end.
An end of what?
The next Fourth Turning could mark the end of man. It could be an omnicidal armageddon, destroying everything, leaving nothing. If mankind ever extinguishes itself, this will probably happen when its dominant civilization triggers a Fourth Turning that ends horribly. But this end, while possible, is not likely. Human life is not so easily extinguishable. One conceit of linear thinking is the confidence that we possess such godlike power that—at the mere push of a button—we can obliterate nature, destroy our own seed, and make ourselves the final generations of our species. Civilized (post-Neolithic) man has endured some 500 generations, prehistoric (fire-using) man perhaps 5,000 generations, Homo Erectus ten times that. For the next Fourth Turning to put an end to all this would require an extremely unlikely blend of social disaster, human malevolence, technological perfection, and bad luck. Only the worst pessimist can imagine that.
The Fourth Turning could mark the end of modernity. The Western saecular rhythm—which began in the mid-fifteenth century with the Renaissance—could come to an abrupt terminus. The seventh modern saeculum would be the last. This too could come from total war, terrible but not final. There could be a complete collapse of science, culture, politics, and society. The “Western Civilization” of Toynbee and the “Faustian Culture” of Spengler would come to the inexorable close their prophesiers foresaw. A new dark ages would settle in, until some new civilization could be cobbled together from the ruins. The cycle of generations would also end, replaced by an ancient cycle of tradition (and fixed social roles for each phase of life) that would not allow progress. As with an omnicide, such a dire result would probably happen only when a dominant nation (like today’s America) lets a Fourth Turning ekpyrosis engulf the planet. But this outcome is well within the reach of foreseeable technology and malevolence.
The Fourth Turning could spare modernity but mark the end of our nation. It could close the book on the political constitution, popular culture, and moral standing that the word America has come to signify. This nation has endured for three saecula; Rome lasted twelve, Etruria ten, the Soviet Union (perhaps) only one. Fourth Turnings are critical thresholds for national survival. Each of the last three American Crises produced moments of extreme danger: In the Revolution, the very birth of the republic hung by a threat in more than one battle. In the Civil War, the union barely survived a four-year slaughter that in its own time was regarded as the most horrible war in history. In World War II, the nation destroyed an enemy of democracy that for a time was winning; had the enemy won, America might have itself been destroyed. In all likelihood, the next Crisis will present the nation with a threat and a consequence on a similar scale.
Or the Fourth Turning could simply mark the end of the Millennial Saeculum. Mankind, modernity, and America would all persevere. Afterward, there would be a new mood, a new High, and a new saeculum. America would be reborn. But, reborn, it would not be the same.
The new saeculum could find America a worse place. As Paul Kennedy has warned, it might no longer be a “great power.” Its global stature might be eclipsed by foreign rivals. Its geography might be smaller, its culture less dominant, its military less effective, its government less democratic, its Constitution less inspiring. Emerging from its millennial chrysalis, it might evoke nothing like the hope and respect of its “American Century” forbear. Abroad, people of goodwill and civilized taste might perceive this society as a newly dangerous place. Or they might see it as decayed, antiquated, an Old New World less central to human progress than we now are. All this is plausible, and possible, in the natural turning of saecular time.
Alternatively, the new saeculum could find America, and the world, a much better place. Like England in the Reformation Saeculum, the Superpower America of the Millennial Saeculum might merely be a prelude to a higher plane of civilization. Its new civic life might more nearly resemble that “shining city on a hill” to which its colonial ancestors aspired. Its ecology might be freshly repaired and newly sustainable, its economy rejuvenated, its politics functional and fair, its media elevated in tone, its culture creative and uplifting, its gender and race relations improved, its commonalities embraced and differences accepted, its institutions free of the corruptions that today seem entrenched beyond correction. People might enjoy new realms of personal, family, community, and national fulfillment. America’s borders might be redrawn around an altered but more cogent geography of public community. Its influence on world peace could be more potent, on world culture more uplifting. All this is achievable as well.
Conclusion
2020 was not the Climax; the Crisis of the Forth Turning in America. That still lies ahead of us.
I hope it never comes to this. In lieu, I can see the Balkinization of the country take place, sides would move to designated areas and set up permanent camp. There may be 2, 3 or more countries within the US before the dust settles.
-Survivalist Boards
A climax is a major event. It is typically marked by full-scale discord and absolute totality of full-scale war. That did not occur in 2020. That is not occurring now. 2020 was marked by a “pandemic”. Most Americans (through their media) believe that either [1] it is a hoax, or [2] it is a new strain of flu that is sweeping the globe. It is neither. It is a bio-weapon attack on China by the neocon Trump administration gone terribly wrong.
Xi Peng and Putin do not get their intel from Rush Limbaugh, Alex Jones, and CNN. They get it from their Intel divisions. And both nations have a full picture of what is going on, has gone on and will go on further.
Both nations (China and Russia) filed a formal complaint against the United States for launching this bio-weapon (and all the others that it launched in late 2020). And while Americans ignored this complaint, pretending that it is meaningless, it did do something. It marked the start of Russia and China teaming up militarily against the United States.
…
United States. (With the UK, Canada, Israel, and Australia.) Today there is isolated America. Confused. Arrogant. Thrashing and moaning. Demanding all sorts of things.
The Rest of the World. And the rest of the world, lead by Russia, and China, that are very carefully and very precisely planning to stop all this nonsense once and for all.
Adjusting the dates
“It seems I always underestimate the ability of sociopathic central bankers and their willingness to destroy the lives of hundreds of millions to benefit their oligarch masters. I always underestimate the rampant corruption that permeates Washington DC and the executive suites in mega-corporations across the land. And I always overestimate the intelligence, civic mindedness, and ability to understand math of the ignorant masses that pass for citizens in this country. It seems that issuing trillions of new debt to pay off trillions of bad debt, government sanctioned accounting fraud, mainstream media propaganda, government data manipulation and a populace blinded by mass delusion can stave off the inevitable consequences of an unsustainable economic system.”
-The Burning Platform
Adjusting the Strauss and Howe dates to account for the delay in the catalyst, messes things up a bit. They predicted…
There is a nice graphic that I composed for your purposes of planning out the next few years. I hope that it is helpful. Adding three years, gives us…
“Crisis catalyst” in 2008.
Climax in 2023.
Resolution in 2029.
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Of course, you could argue the 2020 was the “climax” simply because it was one Hell of a shitty year. But you all know, it was a shitty year for everyone on the globe. Not just Americans. I argue that it was just foreplay for bigger stuff to come.
You’ll not find any big banners or popups here talking about cookies and privacy notices. There are no ads on this site (aside from the hosting ads – a necessary evil). Functionally and fundamentally, I just don’t make money off of this blog. It is NOT monetized. Finally, I don’t track you because I just don’t care to.
Please kindly help me out in this effort. There is a lot of effort that goes into this disclosure. I could use all the financial support that anyone could provide. Thank you.
This post we will look at the general considerations for the design of the egress portal itself.
This is part of the DIY series in making your very own dimensional portal. The geometry of the egress station will stay the same regardless of how you use this dimensional portal. Whether it is intended as a “time machine”, a mechanism to traverse the “what if” worlds, or just something you want to use to improve your physical appearance, the geometry will not change.
Dimensional portal showing magnetic field generator, and the “air gap” that the traveler must pass through to use the mechanism. This post discusses the geometry of this “air gap”.
Basic Introduction
Note that this is an article that is part of a long series of posts on DIY construction of a dimensional portal.
This technology will permit a person to move anywhere in the universe geographically, move through time, and more in and out of different world-lines.
This page is part of a collection of my writings on how to make a home-made dimensional portal that actually works. This portal is a “poor man’s” version of the MAJestic dimensional portal that was present in NAS NASC Pensacola Florida back in 1981.
This particular post covers the geometry of the portal itself’ the “air gap” or region that that traveled must walk through in order to travel the various world-lines.
Teleportation is a proven fact, and is well understood in the quantum physics world. It has been demonstrated continuously and repeatedly in the laboratory as well.
Though public demonstration of large objects is not available and considered "far fetched", the fact is this is a mature technology.
This technology has been in possession of the United States Navy's ONI (Office of Naval Intelligence) branch of high technology MAJestic branch, of which I was a part of.
Overall, this post is part of a much larger series of posts. All of which describe a rather comprehensive DIY project. Within it is everything that you need to construct your very own dimensional portal. The big missing gap is the mapping of the dimensional coordinates. Because unless you are able to lay out a destination coordinate, you will have little use for this mechanism.
The equations tend to be a tad esoteric, but it’s nothing too difficult as long as you know some basic mathematics. Just follow the narrative and the instructions and you will be just fine.
This is part 10. The calculations and equations related to the actual portal geometry.
You are here.
I always like it when you are lost in a big museum, hospital or factory, and you come up to a big sign on the wall; a map really, that says “You are here.”. It helps you figure out where you are relative to the over all scheme of things.
You are here.
Let’s see where this post fits into the big scheme of things.
Essentially, the idea is quite simple, really. [1] You generate a massive, simply massive; “big honker” electromagnet. In it is [2] this “air gap” or a gap large enough for a person to walk though. [3] The magnetic field generated in the electromagnet is enormous. It is [4] strong enough to “erase” or “obscure” your current “coordinates” associated with this world-line and your life. Then, [5] new coordinates are over-laid over your body, [6] using frequency generation techniques, and [7] when the magnetic field collapses you “snap” right to the new reality or dimensions that you have imprinted.
It’s rather simple. The issues are in the implementation of the various steps.
You need to [8] measure the frequencies of location with extreme precision. You need [9] to be able to functionally understand how to change them to take you where ever you want to go. You need [10] to pulse the electromagnet into sine wave configuration, and [11] you need to have the traveler become brainwave neutral during the egress operation.
I’ve covered those steps elsewhere.
Here we will concentrate on the geometry of the “air gap” that the person (traveler) will walk into. It is section #2, above and highlighted in BOLD.
With this in mind, let’s crack open our electromagnetic handbooks and review just how a magnet works and how we can apply that knowledge to our particular application.
The design of magnets and electromagnets is a mature technology. I personally find it fascinating. As it is just a very interesting subject that I have taken a shine to. You can find all sorts of texts, websites, and papers written about this technology. And anything listed herein can be found elsewhere if you were so inclined to research elsewhere.
In this post, I am going to take this very interesting technology and break it down into a very simple format, so that anyone trying to (or who desires of) building their own dimensional portal can understand the issues involved.
Air Gap
This is the “interface” where the traveler enters the transport mechanism. It is an open area. It is a space, and since it contains air, it is known as a “air gap” as it is typically a gap within a large metal ring.
Air gap, is a non-magnetic part of a magnetic circuit.
It is usually connected magnetically in series with the rest of the circuit, so that a substantial part of the magnetic flux flows through the gap. Here’s a three dimensional diagram of an air gap in a magnetic circuit…
Depending on application, air gap may be filled with a non-magnetic material such as gas, water, vacuum, plastic, wood etc. and not necessarily just with air.3)4)
So we can say that if the device were enclosed within a pool of water, the person could swim though the gap and teleport to a new location. But why bother, right? We live and breathe and walk in air.
Flux Fringing
Due to increased reluctance of an air gap the flux spreads into the surrounding medium.
Think of water in a tube, as long as the tube keeps the water inside the tube, it flows forward without any loss or leakage. But the moment that you add a hole, or series of holes in the tube, you will have leaks. Water will squirt out, and as it does so, it will “take away” from the smooth flow of the rest of the water in the tube.
When you add an airgap to increase the reluctance of the core then it is almost as if you have decreased its permeability, and thereby lowered the inductance of a winding on it. Indeed, when you buy a core with a pre-fabricated gap then the manufacturer may specify what is called the effective permeability of the core, μ e.
-Air gapped magnetic cores
This spreading eventually causes an ‘effect” known as the “flux fringing effect.”
Flux fringing - a phenomenon in which the magnetic flux flowing in a magnetic core spreads out (or fringes out) into the surrounding medium, for example in the vicinity of an air gap.
-Fluxfringing [Encyclopedia of magnetics and electromagneti…
Flux fringing
The point behind this is that we need a gap for the traveler to walk through, but the mere presence of the gap will “take away” or detract from the energy, power and efficiency of the magnetic flux in that gap.
In order to quantify how much magnetic flux you will lose, you need to calculate it. This is done by observing the “eddy current loss”.
Eddy Current Loss
Flux Fringing is generally an unwanted phenomenon which usually increases proximity and eddy current loss in conductors located in the vicinity of the air gap. To simplify; the “flux fringing” phenomenon subtracts away from the strength of the magnetic flux inside the air gap.
Eddy Current Loss
A sectional view of the magnetic core is shown in the figure above. When the changing flux links with the core itself, it induces emf in the core which in turns sets up the circulating current called Eddy Current. And these current in return produces a loss called eddy current loss or (I2R) loss, where I is the value of the current and R is the resistance of the eddy current path.
The strength and the magnitude of the loss of magnetic flux is a function of the geometry of the air gap and the over-all magnitude of the flux itself.
Reducing the Eddy Current Loss
If the core is made up of solid iron of larger cross-sectional area, the magnitude of I (current) will be very large and hence losses will be high. To reduce the eddy current loss mainly there are two methods.
By reducing the magnitude of the eddy current.
The magnitude of the current can be reduced by splitting the solid core into thin sheets called laminations, in the plane parallel to the magnetic field. Each lamination is insulated from the other by a thin layer of coating of varnish or oxide film.
Instead of a solid metal core, if you make it out of thin lamination’s, you will be able to be able to control eddy current loss.
By laminating the core.
By laminating the core, the area of each section is reduced and hence the induced emf also reduces. As the area through which the current is passed is smaller, the resistance of eddy current path increases.
Diagram showing how laminated cores operate within an magnetic field environment.
Influence on B-H loop
The B-H loop of a magnetic circuit is affected by the presence of an air gap. This is an important characteristic of the environment inside of the air gap.
The B-H loop is produced by measuring the magnetic flux (B) of a ferromagnetic material when the applied magnetizing force is changed (H). A ferromagnetic material which has been never before magnetized or demagnetized ferromagnetic material will trail the dashed line (see the figure) as magnetizing force (H) is increased.
A B-H Loop in soft magnet.
Permeability of non-magnetic material is low (such as air) and therefore it requires greater values of to obtain the same value of as compared with magnetically soft materials (such as iron). Here is a more detailed image of a typical B-H Loop showing key features of it.
B-H loop
With the introduction of an air gap the B-H loop of a magnetic circuit gets “sheared” (slanted), hence the value of its slope proportional to the effective permeability is reduced.
Effective magnetic permeability (also apparent magnetic permeability1)), often denoted as μe, μeff or μa - a term used in analysis of magnetic performance of gapped cores. For a non-homogeneous core (e.g. gapped or composed of powder-like particles) this would be the value of magnetic permeability of a hypothetical homogeneous material which would exhibit the same permeability.
The amount of “shearing” is proportional to the length of the air gap – the larger the air gap the lower the slope. For our application, this air gap is quite large; it is the height of a human being.
For air core coil (no magnetic material present) the B-H characteristics become by definition the same as for the non-magnetic material encircled by the winding (e.g. air).
The influence of air gap on the shape of B-H loop for a cut core is shown below…
B-H loops (hysteresis loops) measured on a toroidal core, made from grain-oriented electrical steel grade M4. The core was cut and lapped. Blue curve shows the B-H loop with the lapped faces touching. Red curve shows data measured for the same core, with an air gap of 0.07 mm (plastic shim) introduced between the lapped faces. B-H loops measured at 1.7T, 50Hz. Power loss was 1.49 W/kg without air gap, and 1.45 W/kg with the air gap, so very little change comparing to great changes of the shape of the loop.
Changes of effective permeability and linearisation of the B-H loops caused by increasing the air gap …
A comparative graph showing the influence of increasing air gap in a magnetic core. The numbers denote the unitless ratio lg/lc, where: lg – length of gap and lc – length of core. Drawing based on: G.B. Finke, Gapped magnetic core structures, Magnetic Metals Corporation, {accessed 17 Jun 2013}.
Conversely, if no air gap is present then the slope becomes as steep as possible, and the B-H loop will represent the closest approximation of the characteristic of the magnetic material (for a given shape of the magnetic circuit). For our egress portal design, the B-H Loop is very, extremely slanted. It is nearly horizontal. And that does pose some design challenges.
The creation of a workable “air gap” can be achieved for instance by careful polishing or lapping of the flat faces, in order to reduce the surface roughness and the amount of space between the magnetic surfaces. 5)
Calculator of effective magnetic permeability from air gap
For a magnetic circuit with uniform cross-section the value of effective permeability μeff can be calculated if the lengths and permeabilities of both part of the circuit are known.
The equation is valid only for a simple magnetic circuit, made out of bulk material, for relative permeability if lcore >> lgap, and if µcore >> 1.
Gapped core with: total magnetic path length l (orange), length of core lcore (blue) and length of air gap(red)
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I find this all very interesting. But you know, many people cannot visualize the differences between a small model and the actual real object. It’s like that scene from the Movie Hangover III. Where the one character looks at the model of an estate, and comments, (more or less)…
[to Phil and Stu]
Alan: You guys know what’s going on, right?
Phil: What do you mean?
Alan: Well…
[to Chow]
Alan: And please correct me if I’m wrong.
[pointing to the miniature villa]
Alan: We’re not breaking into this house, this house is too small. We’re breaking into another house. This is just a model, right, Chow?
Mr. Chow: What?
In short, if we use the simpler, most basic design for this electromagnet, then the magnet will have to be huge. You would take the picture of the above magnet, and scale it up. So the air gap which is perhaps 1/8 of an inch wide, would actually be six or seven feet tall.
Thus making the entire magnet building-sized.
Gapped and air-cored inductors
To understand other alternatives to this design and style of an electromagnet, we need to understand what options that we have. And, lucky for us, there are many. We can use the technologies involved in inductors to help us work out more “reasonable” solutions that won’t require us to get a building permit to create a five story tall electromagnet.
Now, fundamentally, the presence of the air-gap will change the ability of the electromagnet to work efficiently. From it’s initial conception through to utility, the entire system is fraught with inefficiencies. Never the less, use of it in our application is guaranteed to work provided that the magnetic flux is large enough.
Energy storing inductors
Air gaps are an integral part of gapped inductors.
An analogy of the movement of magnetic flux within an air-gapped inductor and that of an electrical circuit.
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The gap reduces effective permeability of a given magnetic circuit and allows storing much greater energy before saturation is reached.
Effective magnetic permeability (also apparent magnetic permeability), often denoted as μe, μeff or μa - a term used in analysis of magnetic performance of gapped cores. For a non-homogeneous core (e.g. gapped or composed of powder-like particles) this would be the value of magnetic permeability of a hypothetical homogeneous material which would exhibit the same permeability.
Increasing the gap reduces the inductance, so the winding must have more turns to compensate accordingly.12)
The larger the air-gap, the more turns of wire that must be used in the electro-magnet.
For a given size of inductor the amount of stored energy versus applied air gap can be represented by a Hanna curve.13)
If operation with high currents is required then the air gap might be very large, so that the magnetic circuit is quite “open”.
For instance, a common design for electronic chokes is to place a winding on a magnetic rod. The magnetic field lines must close through the surrounding air (outside of the winding), so the length of the air gap is comparable with the length of the rod.14)
In some cases the currents are so high that it is very difficult or cost prohibitive to design the inductor with a magnetic core. In such case a so-called “air core” is used, where the windings are supported by a non-magnetic structure, and the whole magnetic circuit is effectively one big air gap.
The distribution of air gap can be also extended even further. There are magnetic materials, which are made from small particles (mostly based on powder iron, sendust or moly permalloy powder) bound together in such a way as to contain certain percentage of non-magnetic volume in them.
SendustSendust is a magnetic metal powder that was invented by Hakaru Masumoto at Tohoku Imperial University in Sendai, Japan, about 1936 as an alternative to permalloy in inductor applications for telephone networks. Sendust composition is typically 85% iron, 9% silicon and 6% aluminum. The powder is sintered into cores to manufacture inductors. Sendust cores have high magnetic permeability (up to 140 000), low loss, low coercivity (5 A/m) good temperature stability and saturation flux density up to 1 T.
Moly Permalloy. An alloy with exceptionally high magnetic permeability, very low coercive force, very low core losses, and low remnance by magnetic field annealing. The alloy finds application in magnetic shielding where fields much less than the Earth’s magnetic field are required. The highest volume applications using laminations or tape wound cores today are ground fault interrupter and modem transformer cores. The alloy is used as well in a variety of other high performance transformer core applications such as tape recorder heads and audio transformers. Control of the cooling rate during heat treatment and superimposition of various customer bake treatments are used to develop the most suitable magnetic quality for the application
The resultant effective permeability is much lower, but the air gap is uniformly distributed throughout the whole material.16) The fringing effect and leakage flux is greatly reduced, which is especially important for high-frequency applications.
Electromagnets
If the idea of creating a building-sized electromagnet is not appealing, there are other ways of conducting and producing electromagnets. Such as this one. Large electromagnet with a 200 mm long air gap..
Large semi-industrial DC electromagnet, made by Magneto (and co-designed by Stan Zurek). The air gap allows exposing objects 20 x 20 x 20 cm to flux density 0.4 T and higher.
A common performance expected from an electromagnet is to generate magnetic field within a given volume of an air gap.
The purpose of an electromagnet is to generate a strong magnetic field within the air gap.
This could be done for a number of tasks, for instance:
to exert mechanical force on a designed part – this operation is similar to electromagnetic actuators
to exert mechanical force on inclusions or other elements suspended in non-magnetic matter – a principle used in magnetic separators42), recording of shapes on magnetic film43) and some medical applications (e.g. guiding particles inside of blood vessels)44)
to provide magnetic field required for material processing45)46)
And this is exactly what our use of this system is for.
Of the shelf designs for experimentation purposes.
Why go straight to the creation of large (building sized) electromagnets, when there are well made, smaller, units available? You can buy these smaller units, and run tests and experiments using them. You will be able to do everything that a big electromagnet can do, except send a human-sized object to another dimension.
Here is one such product…
DXSBV Double-Yoke Single-Tuning Adjustable Air Gap Electromagnet
Double-yoke electromagnet, whose magnetic pole pieces stay vertically to the ground, with downward magnetic pole piece to be fixed, topside magnetic pole piece and air gap to be adjustable, the magnetic field is vertical with the ground. The main feature is easy to place and remove the sample, which is suitable for repeated measurement, widely used in magnetic materials testing.
And here are some specifications for some of the models that this company produces…
Specifications
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The inspired DIY dimensional experimenter might be interested in following up with this at the company website HERE.
Energy stored in air gap
A magnetic circuit behaves like a “conductor” so that the magnetic field can be efficiently guided along desired path. If a high-permeability material is used then very little energy will be stored in the magnetic core. However, an air gap introduces a discontinuity and due to its low permeability stores significant amount of magnetic energy, as compared to the same volume of magnetic core.
This energy storing property is utilized, for instance, in energy storing inductors and flyback transformers, in which air gap in a pivotal design parameter. On the one hand, the air gap is used for storing the actual energy, but on the other it changes operating characteristics of the B-H curve and allows driving the inductor at higher currents hence higher magnetic field strength thus extending the range before magnetic saturation occurs.
For a simple magnetic circuit with a single air gap (see the first image at the top), for which the core is made out of high-permeability material such that , with the air gap itself and the flux density in the air gap being uniform, and if the flux fringing can be neglected, it can be derived that the stored energy is: 47)
This equation is our GOLD STANDARD from which to calculate the air gap dimensions.
Air Gap Dimensions
Here is what I would suggest to use as the volume and the dimensions for the air gap.
Air gap Dimensions.
Flux fringing
Flux fringing (red arc) around an air gap in magnetic core
An FEM simulation of a gapped inductor. The field lines show the magnetic flux. In the air gap the green trajectory (between the poles) is the desired path for flux, but the red one shows fringing flux.
Flux fringing is caused by the fact that the reluctance of the concentrated air gap is much greater than that of the core. The flux tries to spread as wide as possible in order to minimise the drop of magnetomotive force across the air gap. As a result of flux fringing the total reluctance of the circuit is somewhat lower. This has several major effects.
In energy-storing inductors the inductance is related to the reluctance of the air gap. The fringing lowers the overall reluctance, so that the resulting inductance is somewhat higher. This needs to be taken into account so that the inductance value is appropriate for a given design. There are various empirical equations suggested in literature for calculating the correction of this effect.
McLyman
For instance McLyman suggest the following “flux fringing factor” ():48)
where: F – factor by which the inductance is increased (unitless),lgap– length of the air gap (m),A – cross-section area of the core (m2), lwindow— length of the inside (in the window) of the core leg in which the gap is present (m).
Rectangular Cross Section
Another example is when the area of the air gap is scaled according to its length. For instance if the magnetic core cross-section is a rectangle the following calculation can be used: 49)
where: and are the lengths of each side of the rectangular cross-section of the magnetic core (m).
Hurley and Wölfle
Yet another approximating equation is given by Hurley and Wölfle50)
However, all such equations are only approximate, and usually work only under the assumption that the length of the air gap is much smaller than any of the dimensions of the core.
Additional Copper Loss
The second effect is additional copper loss due to the fact that fringing flux “bulges away” from the air gap. Usually most of the core window is occupied by windings and if they are exposed to fast-changing fringing flux (e.g. in flyback transformers) this causes additional eddy current losses in the windings.51)
Entry Angle
The third effect is that the fringing flux enters the core perpendicularly to the normal flow of magnetic field. In soft ferrites this is not a problem. But in laminated cores this flux does not travel along the laminations, but enters them perpendicularly to their surface, resulting in a large value of normal component, inducing elevated eddy currents and thus additional iron loss. A distributed air gap is employed in order to reduce this effect (see next section).
5) International standard, IEC 60404-3, Magnetic materials – Part 3: Methods of measurement of the magnetic properties of magnetic sheet and strip by means of a single sheet tester
25), 27) P. Marketos, T. Meydan, D. Snell, Performance of single-phase transformer cores assembled from consolidated stacks of electrical steels, Journal of Magnetism and Magnetic Materials, Vol. 254-255, 2003, p. 612-614
40) R.S. Ruffini, Jr., V.S. Nemkov, Magnetic Field Control and Concentration in Induction Heating coils, Heat Treating, Proceedings of the 16th ASM Heat Treating Society Conference & Exposition, 19-21 March 1996, Cincinatti, Ohio, US, p. 127
The first step in building this DIY teleportation / dimensional egress portal is to construct the electromagnet that will be used to erase the universal location frequencies of the traveler. Any strong and powerful enough magnetic field will do, but in this post we discuss using electomagnets with an enormous air gap to provide this ability.
Further, commercially available systems (of a much smaller scale) are available for purchase and use for experimentation purposes, and for purposes of obtaining location frequency data, and that associated with time, and location.
Do you want more?
I’d hope so. I have more posts in my DIY dimensional Portal Index here…
You’ll not find any big banners or popups here talking about cookies and privacy notices. There are no ads on this site (aside from the hosting ads – a necessary evil). Functionally and fundamentally, I just don’t make money off of this blog. It is NOT monetized. Finally, I don’t track you because I just don’t care to.
Please kindly help me out in this effort. There is a lot of effort that goes into this disclosure. I could use all the financial support that anyone could provide. Thank you very much.
It’s one thing to have Alex Jones predicting that the United States is going to collapse any day now, and it is another thing entirely when an intelligence analyst says so. And thus we have this bit of shocking news. A global military intelligence website has revised it’s five year forecast to predict a massive drop in American population by 2025.
Deagel.com is apparently some sort of global military intelligence site. They have had an online presence since 2003. They report on high-level military equipment assets and keep track of military expenditures by country “with nearly impeccable numbers”. It’s very similar to Janes.
However, unlike Janes, this is not an “Industry” outlet. But rather an “intelligence” outlet staffed with retired or former intelligence and military folk. As such, it is interesting to those of us that follow the military trends in industry.
Now, since the Military-Industrial cabal has pretty much the “lion’s share” of the oligarchy control over the United States government, any military intelligence related to this should be considered important. For this level of intelligence is what industry uses to make forecasts and projects for markets and survivability of the sales generation options.
In Late August, the Internet was all buzzing about a forecast on this website…
Deagel Forecast For USA – Population Drops 70% by 2025
One aspect of their site is to “forecast” financial outlooks for countries around the world. They track GDP (gross domestic product), defense budgets, and even population (forecasts) for each country.
No one knows for sure, but I’ve read that their sources are “the ‘deep state’ with the CIA, US Department of Defense, US Department of State and World Bank contributing data for their forecasts.
According to their own website, Deagel provides news and intelligence on international military aviation and advanced technologies.
Little is known about the real owner(s). The site name is registered in France. All online information about them is “redacted for privacy”. The site hosting company is located in Old Tappan, New Jersey. Which is pretty much in a semi-rural location with some nice wooded hills and nothing much else. The only thing that I can recall (personally) about that area is the rather large contingent of Jewish establishments there.
Deagel Forecasts Massive Depopulation in the USA by 2025
They have been forecasting a huge population drop in the United States for several years. They haven’t changed their forecast. It’s been projected to decrease for a long time now. And the election of Donald trump made no difference in the projection.
Current population of the USA is about 327 million.
What this means is that the defense intelligence organizations represented by Deagel believe that there will be some kind of event or series of events that will result in a major population drop by 2025.
Deagel site projections.
From the chart above we can clearly see a number of conclusions or extrapolations that they have made.
[1] USA Population (Red notations)
According to their projections, by the years 2025, the population of the United States would decrease. It would go from 327 million people to 100 million people. This would be approximately a 70% decrease in population over a short period of time (from now 2020 to 2025 = five years).
[2] World Population (Purple notations)
According to their projections, the entire world would suffer through a depopulation event. With the population decreasing from 7,385 million people to 6.870 million people. This is a drop of 515 million people. This is about a 7% decrease in the world population.
Thus taking [1] and [2] together, we can see that they expect the United States to take the brunt of most of the population decrease.
[3] American Defense Budget (Blue Notations)
We can see that they anticipate a very drastic decrease in American military spending by 2025. From $637 billion to $32 billion. It would be a reduction to 5% of what the current budget is.
Certainly they anticipate that the American military would be repurposed to a significant extent and this budget would not be able to support any kinds of expeditionary foreign operations.
[4] Global Defense Budgets (Green Notations)
This is very interesting, while there is a slight decrease in global defense spending, the change in spending values is small (comparatively). The global spending would go from $1.7 trillion to $1.2 trillion dollars.
Obviously they believe that the rest of the world’s military would still be funded at nearly the same levels as presently shown.
What are they saying?
To look at the chart and observe the numbers, they anticipate some kind of event or series of events that will take place IN AMERICA between 2020 and 2025.
These event(s) will dramatically decrease the size of the United States population.
The global population will also be reduced as well, but not at all at the same level of catastrophic drop that America will experience. It will not be as catastrophic to the rest of the world as it will be for Americans.
By 2025, the American military would be severely scaled down to a mere 5% of what it is now (by budget). But the rest of the world would pretty much keep their military budgets as the same level.
And this all means that…
America’s GDP will collapse from $19T to $1.6T.
PPP (Power purchasing parity) would collapse from $60,000 to $16,000
The resulting America would not look like anything that would be recognizable to anyone today. Those survivors would be struggling financially, and economically. America would not longer be a global superpower or “the policeman” for the world. Most of the rest of the world would move on, and continue with their lives and societies. While Americans would be undergoing some very severe changes to it’s society and cultures.
How did they arrive at these conclusions?
No one really knows how they came to these numbers and figures. But we do know that these are the same kinds of figures that the intelligence and military agencies use to make forecasts for spending, planning and purchases.
What I can pretty much say is that these figures pretty much match up with the John Titor narrative. He claimed to be a time traveler from the future, and pretty much said all of what is being presented here. It’s just that his dates were off by exactly ten years.
You all can read what he had to say in my John Titor Index here…
But these figures pretty much agree with the Fourth Turning predictions and other predictive sources that I have mentioned in my SHTF Index. Many people are pretty much convinced that the USA is under a state of collapse. The question is not “if”, but “When” and “how bad” it will be.
And let me offer some thoughts…
Metallicman commentary
There’s much I can say, and much that I cannot. But I will throw out some things to give the reader pause to contemplate…
A 70% decrease in the population signifies either [1] massive starvation, [2] a bio-weapon (i.e. smallpox. Something with a high R0 and high lethality.) WMD, or [3] A MAD level nuclear exchange with Russia.
China is “small potatoes” in regards to nuclear weapons. Their entire military is defensive in nature. They are no slouches, and could render the top ten American cities into radioactive glass. But they are not equipped to wage this kind of war with the USA. This level of destruction involves Russia.
Many people could die in an American Civil War, but not at a 70% level.
The low estimate of 600,000 is 1.91 percent of the census population. And 750,000 deaths would represent 2.38 percent of the total population. All told, the Civil War likely claimed somewhere between 2 percent and 2.5 percent of the total population.
-What Percentage of Americans Died During the Civil War ...
Starvation
Intentional starvation is the ONLY method, short of a full-on MAD-level nuclear exchange would result in these kinds of deaths. History tells us that Stalin, Mao and Pol Pot all were very successful in this effort.
In fact, the starvation of the Eastern European peoples by Stalin is exactly the kinds of events that can result in these high and terrifying numbers…
So I would have to suggest that it might be due to starvation. This is a true and real possibility. Either through the loss and destruction of crops, or transportation and distribution channels, or by pricing the foods to un-affordable levels.
Bio-Weapons
The only nation that still maintains bio-weapon inventories and development is America. Last I heard it was under the control of neocon John Bolton.
The rest of the world just simply isn’t a threat.
Russia scaled down their operations back in the 1990’s. If the Russians still have this capability I would be surprised.
China has no bio-warfare labs, nor do they train and practice in this environment. Their only concern is defense.
North Korea might have bio-weapons, but there is no actual verification of this. Iran might also have bio-weapons, but again there is no actual verification of this.
The rest of the world just simply doesn’t have the resources to develop such weapons.
Since there is a real lack of “enemies” with this capability, it is unlikely that a bio-weapon event would ever occur. The only way that it would occur is if America used the weapons against some enemy and it boomeranged back to the United States.
Nuclear
True to form, Donald Trump has been re-configuring the military to use nuclear weapons in a strategic and tactical “humane” way. If so, this could trigger the Russian “Dead Hand” system, and unleash holy Hell upon an unprepared America.
Conclusion
How many times have you wished that you invested in Google back in the day when you had a chance? How many times do you lament not buying stock in Walmart, McDonald’s, Starbucks, or Microsoft? Well the future seems to be written on the wall…
Well, it pretty much looks like anyone who is going to remain in the United States for the next ten years is in for a very exciting and dangerous time. I do hope that it does not materialize, but it looks to me that a nice small bungalow cabin in Chile might be preferable to a penthouse apartment in Los Angles, a suburban house near Portland, or a mobile home in Kentucky.
As I have stated before, if you can…
…then leave the States. At this point, it doesn’t matter where, or how ill-prepared you are. I think you all need to start making the preparations to either shelter-in-place, or bug-out to less dangerous neighborhoods.
Those top-tier oligarchy members left for their underground bunkers in early March 2020.
Their highly-paid enablers and support “armies” are all publishing articles like this one. You can well recognize that “the writing is on the wall”, and that action should be well in process by now.
What ever happens, please keep in mind that food storage is important, as is being armed with something simple and reliable and dangerous. Like a shotgun. (Forget about those AK-47 look-alike clones. They cannot hit the side of a barn.) Learn skills like first aid, and other things that can enable you to be a well liked and well-needed person in your community. And finally, stop being a lone wolf. You work as part of a community, or you will DIE.
Good wishes.
Do you want more?
Do you want to see similar posts?
I hope that you found this post curious. Please take care. You can view other similar posts in my SHTF Index, here…
You’ll not
find any big banners or popups here talking about cookies and privacy
notices. There are no ads on this site (aside from the hosting ads – a
necessary evil). Functionally and fundamentally, I just don’t make money
off of this blog. It is NOT monetized. Finally, I don’t track you
because I just don’t care to.
Please kindly help me out in this effort. There is a lot of effort that goes into this disclosure. I could use all the financial support that anyone could provide. Thank you.
Here, in this post we are going to take a look at ways to convert the “frequencies of location” into a map with coordinates.
There is no right or wrong way to do this. In fact, there are many, many ways. Each with it’s own benefits and liabilities.
Consider this scenario
It’s easy enough to imagine a map with two sets of geographical coordinates. Right?
Conventional mapping of Geo-positioning coordinates.
Now, add time. Where each coordinate can go “into the past”, stay in the present, or “move into the future”.
Adding coordinates that represent time at a given geographical location.
Now, add an entirely new set of criteria. It’s a big enormous set that describes variations in a world-line, for each coordinate. And the variations are nearly infinite, so it’s a very wide and open-ended coordinate. The only way that you can reasonably control all the many, many variations of a world-line variation is comparative. Using the current baseline, what is the delta changes to it?
Adding the coordinates of world-line variations to the map.
When you break things down simply, it really isn’t that difficult.
The coordinate system that you use has really three major components to it. These are as described above. They are [1] geographic location, [2] time, and [3] world-line variation from egress coordinates.
Converting frequencies into something that you can map
Unfortunately, the system that we have laid out describes the collection of frequencies of location with an isolation of the frequencies associated with the traveler. We need to convert that into a usable map.
We need to, don’t you know.
Well, it’s going to be pretty difficult to identify where you are in the enormous MWI. It’s darn near impossible to identify who you are relative to a near infinite number of world-lines that surround you. Not to mention all the variations and the changes associated with a destination coordinate.
It will look like a long string of numbers, in a long, thick book.
And because of this, it really isn’t very useful. You need to convert those numbers into a map that you can read, chart a course, and execute a travel algorithm.
Here we talk about this.
Why bother?
When I entered the fixed dimensional portal so many years back, the destination coordinates were in the form of long strings of numbers on bound print outs. It was the height of technology at the time, and the Commander made tweaks to the destination values upon reviewing my printed out handout.
Here is a bound stack of computer printout sheets nearly identical to what was used when I first entered the fixed dimensional portal…
Bound stack of computer printout sheets that described the destination coordinates that I was to be sent to.
In those days, most computers did not have a monitor or screen. Those few that did were pretty much a visual display that showed green colored text on a black background. Instead, the worker would sit behind a “terminal” and type. It in many ways resembled an electric typewriter, and had the added advantage of leaving a defined paper trail record of your keystrokes.
It looked something like this…
Late 1970’s to the early 1980’s high technology in computers and office equipment.
At that time, there was little option to do anything else. Visualization of large sets of data, or other systems for better and more understandable information retention and exchange was embryonic. We just used the systems available to us, as crude as they were at the time.
It’s not that the visualization of large data sets was unknown, it’s just that we didn’t have the tools necessary to organize the data.
The first instances of infographics as we know them today – as data made visual – dates back to the late 1700s with a chart of wheat prices and labor wages. The creator, William Playfair, might be considered the father of modern day infographics.
The key to infographics is that the brain processes images more readily than words: A picture really was worth a thousand words.
For instance, here is an infographic that discusses slavery in the Southern United States prior to the American Civil War;
Infographic example.
In the example above, you can clearly see where Slavery was the most prevalent, and where it was scarce. You can also be able to deduce and extrapolate information from this graphic. That is the benefits of an infographic as opposed to large streams of numbers.
The advantage of visualization of large complex number sets
As computer technology became more and more sophisticated, a new branch of technology came into being. This was known as “information visualization”, and most reader have probably heard of it. Because “infographics” is a well understood off-shoot of this technology.
The importance of this should not be overlooked.
Relevant data sets would be highlighted, while other data sets could be ignored. As such, there are many different shapes and forms that they can be displayed into. The best one depends on the application.
For instance, here is a “tree” data visualization style.
A complex data set visualized using “tree” structure and organization.
And here is a “cluster” visualization style.
Cluster visualization style.
In regards to visualization of the enormous sets of data associated with world-line portal coordinates, it is important that the visualization be such that it is easy to understand, and equally easy to plot out destinations.
Visualizing frequencies
This technology has actually been around for a while. Anyone who has any of a zillion audio players on their computer can observe the ever changing music (frequencies of sound) depicted in eye-catching arrays for amusement purposes.
In the 1980’s the amplitude of various frequencies were isolated and presented in a bar-code format as lighted LED bars. Here, 16 frequencies are shown with the various amplitudes of the isolated signals.
In these applications, we watch with amusement how the visual designs change with the changes in the music. Fun, huh?
But it gets old.
What we want is something similar, but quite different. We do not want to watch the frequencies of location change. We only want to see what the frequencies of location are. Then “freeze it” and then manipulate each one precisely to obtain our objectives (what ever they might be)…
Geographic
Time
World-line
So what we need is a software program that will take all theses frequencies, broken down into a large number of very tiny separate frequencies, and display that in a pictorial format.
What we need is a special map display
What we want is a display of all the frequencies of location, compared to amplitude. Something along these lines…
Graph of amplitude of various frequencies at a set point in time.
But with a display of two other characteristics. So instead of just attenuation and frequency, we can also display (in color, and along the Y-axis) timbre, and pitch (to use audio terms) at any frozen moment in time.
A coordinate of location can be described by five characteristics: Wavelength, Amplitude, Time-Period, Frequency and Velocity.
Mandelbrot set
If you manage to plot out these data visualizations you might be surprised to discover that they start to appear as Mandelbrot sets.
A mandelbrot set.
The Mandelbrot set is the set of complex numbers c for which the function fc(z)=z²+c does not diverge when iterated from z=0, i.e., for which the sequence fc(0), fc(fc(0)), etc., remains bounded in absolute value. Its definition is credited to Adrien Douady who named it in tribute to the mathematician Benoit Mandelbrot. The set is connected to a Julia set, and related Julia sets produce similarly complex fractal shapes.
-Wikipedia
Without getting to involved in the mathematics involved, any set of coordinates (which are the gravitational frequencies measured at the portal) can be reduced to equations. These are equations of location, and can be simplified to involve complex numbers.
Now, the purpose of this conversion is to help visualize the components of the various frequencies so that changes and alterations can be made. Once these groupings are identified, then they can be altered so that the actual data is used when defining coordinate changes.
It works something like this…
Clusters shown within the Mandelbrot set can be useful to alter and revise coordinates. For instance, a primary bulb might represent the characteristics of a given time, while “antennas” might represent attributes of a given world-line.
So, in short, we can use mathematics and convert the frequencies of location into another form using complex numbers. Then we can graph the result. It will appear as a Mandelbrot set.
Through a series of experiments, we should be able to identify which characteristics of the Mandelbrot set has the greatest relevance for us, and then modify the destination coordinates appropriately.
But…
But there is more…
Fractals
If you study the Mandelbrot set you might be able to identify fractals with “self similarity”. These little mathematical nuances can help you determine the relative stability of a world-line.
Stability? What are you talking about?
I am talking about the anchoring of world-lines, and how world-lines tend to cluster together. Our consciousness tend to cycle through world-lines rather rapidly. So the moment you enter a new world-line, you are off on the way to other ones.
It’s called “time”, don’t you know.
Well, if we want a world-line, say where the most popular food is pineapple on pizza (why? Why Lord, why?) and when we get there, we suddenly discover after a few seconds that no one eats pineapple on pizza. And so we think, “WTF? What happened?”
The abomination of pineapple on pizza.
What happened was that we arrived at our destination world-line, but it was not stable.
So we want stability, and thus we want to find forms and shapes within the Mandelbrot set that are prone for fractal behavior.
In mathematics, a fractal is a self-similar subset of Euclidean space whose fractal dimension strictly exceeds its topological dimension. Fractals appear the same at different levels, as illustrated in successive magnifications of the Mandelbrot set.
Fractals exhibit similar patterns at increasingly small scales called self similarity, also known as expanding symmetry or unfolding symmetry; if this replication is exactly the same at every scale, as in the Menger sponge, it is called affine self-similar. Fractal geometry lies within the mathematical branch of measure theory.
-Wikipedia
To find specific values to manipulate during the visualization of the data set, you will find that other mathematical manipulations might become useful. Such is the case with fractals.
Higuchi and Katz fractal.
Conclusion
By converting the frequencies of location into Mandelbrot sets, we can create a map that we can use to plot our travel through the MWI. This is true whether it is geographical, involve time-travel or exploring the near-infinite variations of different world-lines.
Happy exploring.
Happy exploring.
Do you want more?
I have more posts in my DIY World-Line Dimensional Portal index here…
You’ll not find any big banners or popups here talking about cookies and privacy notices. There are no ads on this site (aside from the hosting ads – a necessary evil). Functionally and fundamentally, I just don’t make money off of this blog. It is NOT monetized. Finally, I don’t track you because I just don’t care to.
Please kindly help me out in this effort. There is a lot of effort that goes into this disclosure. I could use all the financial support that anyone could provide. Thank you very much.
This is part four of a multi-part post. Here we will discuss what happens once you have isolated the human mass from the portal mass, assigned a frequency profile of both, and then established a destination coordinate system. Here we will discuss the actual mechanism that will slide the human “passenger” within the dimensional portal to another world-line.
Introduction
Now, I have read all sorts of speculations of whether or not a person can actually teleport, go into worm-holes, or visit other world-lines. Most writers consider themselves “experts” on this and say that it cannot be done.
Teleportation has not yet been implemented in the real world. There is no known physical mechanism that would allow this. Frequently appearing scientific papers and media articles with the term teleportation typically report on so-called " quantum teleportation ", a scheme for information transfer.
An actual teleportation of matter has never been realized by modern science (which is based entirely on mechanistic methods). It is questionable if it can ever be achieved, because any transfer of matter from one point to another without traversing the physical space between them violates Newton's laws, a cornerstone of physics.
-Rubens Talukder, Ph.D.
The “experts” have spoken!
To be honest, our understanding of teleportation is as clear as that of black holes, at this point. Dematerializing matters surely consumes a lot of energy and data. We should also take into consideration that the human brain contains so much information that it takes a football field-sized computer to completely replicate its prowess.
Remember, your entire being will be disintegrated into particles and the same exact ones should be reassembled at the destination point. Not only that, all your memories and your brain functions must remain intact after the process. Teleportation is similar to being killed and reborn, all in a short period of time. The timing must be precise through the whole of the process, because the slightest disturbance will really alter the state of your being. More importantly, who knows what might happen when an experiment goes wrong? You are relatively lucky if you come off with a missing limb or a different eye color, but things can really go south. Worse, you might not be reborn at all. Good luck getting locked in a quantum limbo for eternity, in that case.
Unfortunately, at the moment, we do not have the technology and the know-how to teleport matter visible to the naked. The technique also involves transferring us at the speed of light, and that alone clashes with Einstein’s theory of relativity. Sadly, technology is not the only limitation, but also the current rules of physics.
-Gizmo Shack
What ever floats your boat, cowboy.
I’ve done it.
I know that it can be done.
I have experienced it first hand. It is a technology that is in possession of the United States government under the aspects of MAJestic within the ONI.
It’s an advanced technology, that is sure, but it is not impossible. It’s just that the methods involved tend to be esoteric.
So let’s see what I’ve covered within Metallicman, eh?
Intention / prayer for self-navigation of consciousness through the MWI.
Magick and ritual, and religious intention.
MAJestic “dimensional portal” used at NAS NASC Pensacola Florida.
Use of extraterrestrial technology and a biological apparatus for world-line “anchoring”.
Outfitting a vehicle for (apparent) “time travel” like John Titor.
My DIY series on manufacturing your own “Dimensional Portal”.
And here we are. We are at part four of DIY dimensional portal theory and construction.
Navigation
This is a pretty complex subject, don’t you know. And it is so easy to get all bogged down on the “nitty-gritty” details. So let’s just review a little bit of the first three prior posts.
Introduction. (What you can find on the internet.)
Gravity isolation of the human traveler from the portal.
Converting the individual gravity elements into waves and coordinates.
And now, we are going to discuss the actual teleportation of a person from the portal to another world-line…
Please take note that unless you have a dimensional portal at your destination location, you will be forever trapped there, and can never return back home.
Field Resonance Systems
We will use a “field resonance system” to conduct the teleportation. This is a well-known “theory” (well supported by conventional science) embraced by NASA for the future transport of people over large distances.
The field resonance system artificially generates an energy pattern which precisely matches or resonates with a virtual pattern associated with a distant world-line space-time point.
According to the model, if a fundamental or precise resonance is established (using hydromagnetic wave fine-tuning techniques), the person entering the dimensional portal will be very strongly and equally repelled by surrounding virtual patterns.
At the same time, through the virtual many-dimensional structure of space-time, a very strong attraction with the virtual pattern of a distant space-time point will exist.
The model predicts that this combination of very strong forces will result in the translocation of the person from the egress portal’s initial position through the many-dimensional virtual structure to the distant world-line space-time point.
It’s not a “turn key” solution. You just cannot make a device and expect it to work immediately “right off the bat”. The mechanics of this resonance effect will be determined through extensive experimentation, which may also revise the basic resonance requirements. You never know with R&D and NPD efforts.
However, the result, a space-time “jump,” most certainly appears to be supported by astrophysical research.
Several analogies can be used to clarify this effect. It can be described as the temporary formation of an Einstein-Rosen bridge. Which is a tunnel through space-time which connects two different regions in space-time in a way similar to that which has been otherwise proposed for such things as a black hole/white hole (quasar) portal.
The resonance effect can be considered to be analogous to the nuclear particle tunneling phenomena.
In this phenomenon, the wave nature of the particle enables it to tunnel through a potential barrier without having the energy required to go over the barrier.
Following this analogy, the traveler’s wave characteristics are increased dramatically by the artificially generated energy pattern, allowing it to tunnel through the space-time barrier without having the energy normally required to traverse the space between the two space-time points.
The travel times for such trips are expected to be nearly instantaneous.
If complex coordinate destinations are specified, short durations might manifest (seconds to weeks). All of which is dependent on the pattern precision, the amount of energy in the pattern, the space-time distance, and the virtual structure entry point.
Time
There is no such thing as “time”. That is the impression of a train of world-line experiences taken together.
We know it does not really exist.
Time does not have an independent existence in the General Theory of Relativity and it will be redefined in the model as a type of energy flow. However, since time will continue to be used to catalog our experiences in daily life, its use is likely to continue in the description of this type of dimensional travel.
Secondary Resonance Effect
Now there may be other effects and things going on when you enter the egress dimensional port.
If the artificial energy pattern does not precisely match the virtual pattern at a distant world-line space-time point, a secondary resonance effect may be observed.
In this case, the repulsive and attractive forces are not strong enough to relocate the traveler, but the resonance is sufficient to connect the two points through the virtual structure, resulting in energy flow to or from the distant world-line space-time point.
We do not know what this might manifest as.
Dissemination of a person into “the void”.
A partial teleportation of a person to the destination, while the rest of that person stays at the egress portal.
A merging of elements of the traveler with the portal components.
Extreme destinations
In order to explore distant coordinate systems in wildly divergent world-lines, several intermediate world-line space-time jumps would likely be required for safety purposes.
The initial slide would take the traveler into a world-line with only one significant change in the destination coordinates. The next slide would be a destination coordinate with a different major change to the destination coordinates, followed by a slide to a destination with minor coordinate changes for control and reliability considerations. At each step, the predicted and actual locations would be compared and computerized models would be updated accordingly. Exploration of a world-line would probably be best done by a gravimagnetic system that could be carried inside the larger field resonance system.
If the energy pattern generation system of the field resonance portal has an ultrafine-tuning system, world-line space-time jumps to the nearby world-lines could be accomplished. If the portal cycled frequent and very short slides, it would appear in many cases to be in a smooth continuous long-duration slide through world-line space-time.
Hydromagnetic wave fine-tuning techniques
Here we are going to model the process of what happens when a person enters the dimensional portal.
For we know the frequency coordinates of both the person and the portal, and when we bathe the portal in a strong magnetic field and artificially induce the destination coordinates over that of the egress coordinates, the human traveler would be teleported to the new world-line.
In modeling this process we will simplify the equations a bit to simulate the human traveler, and the two portals; egress and destination.
The dynamics of wave propagation in a hydromagnetic waveguide has been well studied and established. For our purposes, we will simplify the equations to represent an electrically conducting conduit (the human traveler) inserted in the field of a steady magnetic field which is the egress dimensional portal. For our purposes, we will treat the human traveler to act as if he/she behaved as plasma.
In the simplest case, the applied field is parallel to the axis of the tube. When the plasma moves with a fluctuating velocity in a direction normal to the axis of the waveguide, the lines of force are shaken to and fro in the direction of the applied velocity. A transverse wave is thereby made to travel along the lines of force.
It is well known to workers in hydromagnetics that the governing relations for the motion of a plasma in a magnetic field are analogous to those describing the behavior of an ideally conducting fluid in the presence of a magnetic field. Hence, our discussion begins with the relations for the conservation of momentum and matter and with the equation of state. As a result of linearization, we find that these equations are
In these expressions, zero subscripts indicate quiescent values, and lower-case letters fluctuating variables. The velocity is denoted by V, the pressure by p, the density by p, the velocity of sound waves in free space by a, the fluctuating local current density by j, and the applied steady magnetic field by B o .
The set of corresponding Maxwellian relations, corrected for relativistic effects, is
The fluctuating magnetic field is denoted by b, the electric field by e, and the permeability of the medium by t. Relations 4, 5, and 6 are valid when the plasma is quasineutral, and when the characteristic dimension of the apparatus is large compared with both the mean free path of the gas and the Debye shielding distance.
It can be readily found that the velocity satisfies the equation
in which k = w/c, the wave number for the Alfven wave velocity in free space. This velocity c equals Bo/(p)/2. The parameter p = a/c is the ratio of the two velocities of wave propagation, and ib indicates a unit vector in the direction of the magnetic field. Similar relations for the other field variables can be obtained by manipulating the set of Eqs. 1-6. The appropriate boundary conditions for the problem require the vanishing of the normal components of the oscillating velocity and the magnetic field at the walls of the waveguide. If we define the velocity by the identity
it can be shown by substituting Eq. 8 in Eq. 7 that we obtain two simultaneous equations in the velocity potentials c and M. These equations for the general case, when ib is at an arbitrary angle with the axis of the waveguide, are quite complicated and have to be solved approximately.
Two extreme cases, however, allow the equations to be solved exactly.
The results for these two cases will now be briefly indicated.
Case 1. The magnetic field is aligned with the axis of the waveguide. Then the two wave modes propagate along the axis of the waveguide. One of these modes displays the character of a longitudinal, or compressive, wave and is called, in this report, the “acoustic wave.”
The other mode is of transverse character and represents the hydromagnetic mode. Several interesting alternatives may occur that depend upon whether p is less than or greater than unity. When P is less than unity, the acoustic mode has no cutoff for all orders of the wave eigen numbers. This is quite different from the conventional acoustic wave propagation that takes place in a pipe. The hydromagnetic mode does, however, have a cutoff that depends upon the order of the eigen number. It can be checked that whenever p < 1, the pressure from collisions, p, is considerably lower than the hydromagnetic pressure Bo/2L. This means, of course, that the collective behavior of the electrons is controlled, in large part, by the electromagnetic forces. When P > 1, we find that the hydromagnetic mode is then the mode that suffers no cutoff for all orders of the wave eigen number. The acoustic mode, on the other hand, has a cutoff frequency that depends on the order of the wave eigen number. The case of p > 1 indicates that the density of the plasma is high, and is probably more representative of the density of a liquid metal than of the density of a plasma.
An interpretation of the reversal of the noncutoff property of the two waves for B >< 1 can be given by visualizing the behavior of the plasma as it is squeezed by the lines of forces during their transverse motion. For stronger magnetic forces with P < 1, a side distortion of the lines is always accompanied by a longitudinal forward motion of the plasma, hence the acoustic wave suffers no cutoff. A similar explanation can be given for the behavior with P > 1. The expression for the component of the velocity transverse to the axis of the waveguide is given by
in which n, m = 0, ±1, ±2 … ; and 2L 1 2L2 are the width and height of the waveguide section. In expressions 9 and 10, K is the propagation constant for the waves. The functional relation of K on k, the wave number, is shown in graphical form in Fig. III-1 for p 1 and p = 1.
It is obvious that for p = 1, it is not possible to identify the particular wave associated
with the two branches of the function K = f(k).
Case 2. The magnetic field direction is at right angles to the axis of the waveguide.
In this case, the analysis shows that no hydromagnetic wave propagates along the axis of the waveguide. Indeed, consideration of this situation leads us to conclude that the hydromagnetic wave appears as a standing wave along the lines of force, and hence it is trapped between the walls of the waveguide.
The alignment of the magnetic field in another direction besides the two that have been mentioned gives rise to intermediate situations which, however, cannot be obtained as a superposition of the two waves indicated in Eqs. 1 and 2 because Eq. 7 is not linear in the vector ib.
The analysis that has been given cannot be extended to frequencies higher than the ion cyclotron frequency, without taking into account the necessary correction, because the plasma is now composed of two fluids interacting with the magnetic field.
This correction is easily made, and it can be shown that the symmetry of the eigenfunctions in the positive and negative values is lost.
Magnetohydrodynamic Shocks
Whenever you are dealing with plasma (a human) in a magnetic field that undergoes a force or acceleration of some type, you can expect a magnetohydrodynamic shock. In other words, just how useful would this portal be if the person slams into the destination coordinates at a very high speed squashing him/her into jelly?
Luckily this does not seem to be the case.
The work reported here was started for the purpose of investigating the dynamics and the structure of hydromagnetic shocks. In particular, the parameters of the shock that have to be estimated are its thickness, pressure ratio, magnetic-field ratio, and the corresponding density ratio. The preliminary theoretical work was carried out on the basis of a continuum theory.
The calculations follow conventional techniques for studies on shock waves, i. e., the discussion begins with the equation for the conservation of momentum and mass. An appropriate equation of state is also introduced. The hydromagnetic interaction is taken into account by means of a well-known relation for the magnetic field,
where 11 is the intensity of the magnetic field, – is the velocity, N is the permeability, and o- is the conductivity.
It can be shown that a one-dimensional dependence for the variables leads to expressions 2 and 3 which relate the value of the upstream parameters of the shock to its downstream parameters. The relations are valid for distances that are large compared with the thickness of the shock.
Manipulation of all of the equations mentioned in Sec. III-A leads to a pair of simultaneous expressions, the first of which is
stands for the ratio of the square of the Alfen velocity to the square of the velocity of sound; Mo, 1 is the appropriate hydromagnetic Mach number, defined as the ratio of the local velocity to the Alfvn velocity.
For the second relation, we have
Equations 2 and 3 are sufficient to define completely the state of the gas downstream of the shock.
The experimental verification of this discussion will be carried out by means of an apparatus that will allow a magnetically driven shock to travel in an externally applied uniform magnetic field.
The ponderomotive force (PMF)
The ponderomotive force (PMF) is a ubiquitous nonlinear wave effect arising in plasma physics when applied wave fields or plasma parameters have significant spatial gradients.
We should include the possibility that the PMF may energize magnetospheric ions in significant numbers. In particular, the PMF may play a role in transporting and energizing O+ ions at the destination coordinates. This might result in the experience of the traveler experiencing O+ ionic buildup on their exposed skin. This would appear and feel like they had just come from a warm Summer rain shower.
The PMF can also generate nonlinear coupling between the slow magnetosonic mode and the other hydromagnetic modes. This should lead to limitation of density enhancements and, notably in the case of standing Alfvén waves, to spatial harmonic generation, secularly growing frequency shifts, and saturation of driven wave fields. These effects might result in some minor discomfort for the traveler as they egress from the destination portal coordinates.
Conclusions
The use of the Alan Holt field resonance proposal along with hydromagnetic wave fine-tuning techniques will be sufficient to transport a human from an egress dimensional portal to a destination portal / or coordinate on another world-line.
There are concerns related to…
Secondary Resonance Effects.
The ponderomotive force (PMF).
Magnetohydrodynamic shock.
However, calculations indicate that these concerns are minor, or can be minimized with proper care and due diligence.
Now, with all this being clear, we can now discuss the mechanism used to implement the Alan Holt resonance transfer procedure within the magnetic field when a person enters into the egress portal. We will cover that in the next post. Post five. Stay tuned.
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This is part three of a three part HTML version of the book by Michael Newton titled “Destiny of Souls”. The first part can be found HERE.
Important Note
This post contains the complete reprint of the non-fiction work by Dr. Michael Newton titled “Destiny of Souls”. This HTML version of the book was transcribed from a MS Word version of a PDF file that was obtained from an EPUB file format. Thus the paragraphs tend to have odd breaks. I have also not included the very few figures that were part of the book. Aside from these issues, the book should be easy enough to read without problem. Please enjoy. Please also take note that this is the third part of a three part series.
Destiny of Souls (Part 3 of 3)
Community Dynamics
Soulmates
Between the first and second council meetings is a period of renewal for the soul. As ethereal beings, our growth actually began in the mental realm of the spirit world with other souls before any of us incarnated. So while our internal being is uniquely individual, a vital part of spiritual life between incarnations is devoted to empathetic relationships with other souls. Thus, our development as souls becomes a collective one. Part of the expression of this collectivity is the association we have with these souls in a material reality, such as Earth. During reincarnation, the closeness souls feel for each other in a mental setting is severely tested by karmic challenges in our host bodies. This interruption of a blissful mental existence is one means by which spiritual masters expand our consciousness.
I have listened to many intriguing past life love stories of soulmates who come across time and space to meet each other in life once again. Here are a few examples:
Where love was tormented; in a Stone Age culture by a lustful clan chief who took my client’s mate on a regular basis and then gave her back.
Where love was deprived; from a woman who was a slave in ancient Rome serving meals to the gladiators, one of whom she loved. This captured fighter told my client he would love her forever the night before he was killed in the arena.
Where love was cruel; to a stable hand flogged to death in a castle dungeon during the Middle Ages by a nobleman who caught his daughter and my client in their secret meeting place.
Where love was heroic; when a Polynesian bridegroom drowned after saving his mate of a few hours—my client—after their canoe was struck by a sudden storm three centuries ago.
Where love was deadly; when my client, a German husband in eighteenth-century Europe, stabbed his wife in a fit of jealous rage over her alleged affair. Falsely accused by local gossips, she died proclaiming her innocence, saying she loved only him.
Where love was unforgiving; by a returning Civil War veteran whose lonely wife, my client, had married his brother a year after the veteran was officially declared dead.
All the couples listed above are happily married to each other today. Their past trials in each life prepared them for the next and strengthened their bond as soulmates. Past life age regression produces interesting information about coupling, but placing these clients between their lives provides them with far more perspective on these relationships.
There are many tests wrapped in the package of love. Mixed into those lives where we have had a long and happy life with a soulmate are those lives where we have destroyed the relationship or been devastated by the actions of our soulmate toward us. In the difficult lives with soulmates something stood in the way of an acceptance of love. Being with soulmates can bring joy and pain, but we learn from both. Always, there are karmic reasons behind the serious events involving relation- ships in our lives.
I had a client, called Valerie, who lived the life of a beautiful woman in China two centuries ago. In that life she rejected her primary soul- mate, the man she most cared about, because he argued with her and refused to feed her vanity while others did so. “Besides,” Valerie told me in trance, “he was so ungainly and rough-looking I was embarrassed to be seen with him because of what others might think. Out of pride, spite and feelings that I was being taken for granted, I married a handsome man who catered to my whims. I lost the happiness that could have been mine.”
In her next life, in nineteenth-century America, Valerie was the daughter of a Cherokee Indian chief who ordered her to marry the son of another chief as part of a treaty arrangement. This man repulsed her physically and made her life miserable after she assented to her father’s wishes. The warrior she loved in her own tribe was the rejected soul- mate in her China life. Upon returning to the spirit world after her death as an Indian woman, Valerie told me:
My love and I could have run away together. Aside from the great danger of this act, something inside told me I had to endure what my father had set in motion. I see now that it was a test. We have the capacity to severely hurt the person who loves us and also ourselves in the bargain. My life as a Cherokee woman was a reminder of my pride and vanity as a Chinese woman.
Being with the “wrong” person for a period in your life does not mean that time was wasted. The relationship was probably intended in advance. In fact, you might see this soul again in the spirit world in a different light. This was true of the man my subject was forced to marry in her Indian life. His soul belonged to a neighboring group to Valerie’s own. The soul of both men Valerie loved in her past two lives is again united with her in the twentieth century as her husband. I should add that Linda, who is Valerie’s best girlfriend today and a member of her own soul group, was the eventual mate of the warrior she loved in the Cherokee Indian life. After our session, Valerie grinned while telling me, “Now I know why I have always been a little uneasy seeing Linda around my husband.”
Before I go further, it would be a good idea to consider some ramifications involved in the magical experience of meeting a soulmate. When I first sit down with a client and we establish a rapport, I will ask about prior and current relationships that have had significance in their life.
In this way I acquire a feel for the cast of characters who exist in the play of their current life. Since I am going to be sitting in the front row as this play unfolds during hypnosis, I want a theater program.
Once in a deep trance state, many soul connections will become clear. People in my client’s cast may be lovers, devoted friends and relatives, mentors or associates. Our relationships with people take many forms in life and usually involve souls from other groups as well as our own. Usually, clients have a strong desire to identify these soul connections in their current life, although most already have a good idea who they are.
In a broad sense, love is endearment, which can take many forms in life. There is always a mental connection of one sort or another with a soulmate, regardless of the role they play. We connect with people on many levels for a multitude of karmic lessons in every life. When friendship catches fire it turns to love, but without abiding friendship deep love cannot thrive. This is quite different from infatuation, which exists on a superficial level where we have those nagging doubts about whether the connection has any real meaning. Without trust, intimacy suffers and love cannot grow. Love is the acceptance of all the imperfections of our partners. True love makes you better than you would be without that person in your life.
People often equate love with happiness. Yet happiness is a state of mind that must develop within you and not be dependent upon someone else. The most healthy kind of love is one where you already feel good about yourself and so extending your love to someone else is totally unselfish. Love takes hard work and continual maintenance. I have had numerous divorced subjects who learn that their first loves were primary soulmates. Things might have worked out if they both had tried harder.
On the other hand, there may be reasons why we might not meet our primary soulmate until later in life. Soulmates will from time to time separate for a life or two and not appear at all. “My soulmate and I were becoming too dependent upon each other, we needed to grow a while on our own” is a statement I often hear when soulmates are apart. Every era on Earth is different as to the sort of attachment and experience we will have with a soulmate. However, each life with them builds upon former lives.
We learn valuable lessons from broken relationships. The important thing is to move on in life. Some clients may tell me before their session that true love seems to elude them. After the session they usually understand the reasons behind this situation. If the right love for you does not come along, liberate yourself with the understanding that you may be here to learn other lessons. We mistakenly assume people who choose to live alone are lonely when actually they have rich lives that are calm, reflective and productive. Connecting with someone for whom you have no feelings just for the sake of not being alone is more lonely than being by yourself. As the song says, “Falling in love with love is falling for make-believe.” This kind of love is a fantasy because it’s driven by an addiction to have love at any price. If your soulmate is supposed to appear they will come into your life, often when you least expect it.
Over many years of exposure to souls in the spirit world I have developed a means of classifying soulmates. I find the position of souls within one of three categories bears upon their relationship to us in the drama of life. Our guides and beings who come from spiritual areas far from our own arc not included in these three divisions.
Primary Soulmates
A primary, or principal soulmate is frequently in our life as a closely bonded partner. This partnership may be our spouse, brother or sister, a best friend, or occasionally a parent. No other soul is more important to us than a primary soulmate and when my subjects describe lives with these souls as their mates most will say their existence is enriched beyond measure. One of the greatest motivations for souls to incarnate is the opportunity for expression in physical form. This is certainly an attraction for primary soulmates. They may change genders from lite to life together if they are more advanced souls. The average soul usually chooses one gender over another about 75 percent of the time. A primary soulmate should not be confused with the use of the term primary cluster group where many souls interact with each other as companions. People use the term “true soulmate” to define their primary soulmate, which is fine as long as this does not imply that all other soul companions are something less than true. The disagreements people in my field have about such terms are often more symbolic than literal, but I take issue with another concept related to primary soul- mates that bothers me.
I have been questioned on road tours about how my descriptions about primary soulmates and statements of soul duality relate to the theory of twin souls. My answer is, they don’t. I have discussed how we are able to divide our soul energy to live parallel lives, although most souls don’t wish to accelerate learning in this way. Also, I have stated this capacity to divide allows us to leave part of our energy behind in the spirit world as an exact duplicate while we incarnate. Almost all souls engage in this practice, which represents soul duality. My findings of primary soulmate relationships and the capacity for souls to divide have no correlation with the twin soul or twin flame theory. My truths are mine alone but to be blunt, I have never found a single piece of evidence in my research to support the concept of twin souls.
As I understand the theory of twin souls, you and your twin were created at the same moment out of one energy egg and then separated, not to be reunited with your twin—your true soulmate—until the end of your respective karmic incarnations. I remember clients, such as case 26, who said no two souls are alike at the moment of conception. Each energy particle is unique in its own right and created as a single entity. What is so illogical to me about the twin soul theory is why would we have a primary soulmate with whom we could not work out our karmic lessons with before reaching a perfected state? Primary, or true, soulmates exist to help one another achieve goals; they are not twins of ourselves.
Companion Soulmates
Our primary soulmate is our eternal partner but we have other souls in our primary cluster group who can be called soulmates. Essentially, they are our soul companions. These souls have differences in character and a variety of talents which complement each other, as my case histories illustrate. Within this cluster group there is usually an inner circle of souls who are especially close to us, and they play important support roles in our lives and we do the same thing for them. This number varies but the average client has from three to five souls in their inner circle.
Although the companion souls in a cluster group started together, they do have different rates of development. This has as much to do with drive and motivation as talent. Each soul does possess certain strengths that their companions can draw upon during group incarnations. As the group gets smaller, many go off into different specializations but they do not lose contact with each other.
Affiliated Souls
This classification of souls pertains to members of secondary groups outside our own primary cluster but located in the same general spiritual vicinity. As 1 mentioned in chapter 5 under figure 1, secondary groups around our own primary group can total up to 1,000 souls or more. Many of these groups work in classrooms near us. There are certain affiliated souls in other groups who are selected to work with us whom we come to know over many lives, while others may only cross our path briefly. Quite often our parents come from one of these nearby cluster groups.
In terms of social interaction in the spirit world, as well as contact during their physical incarnations, souls of one cluster group may have little or no association with many of the souls in a secondary group. In the larger context all souls in a secondary group are affiliated in one
way or another but they are not considered soulmates by my clients. Although they are not really companion souls, they do form a large pool of people available for casting calls by our directors in the life to come. A soul affiliate might have a specific characteristic that is exactly what is needed to bring a karmic lesson into your life. They are very likely to incarnate as people who carry strong positive or negative energy into their association with you. These decisions depend upon advance agreements between all parties and their respective teachers as to the benefits and disadvantages of certain character roles. The role can be very brief. The reader may recall the bus stop incident related by the subject in case 39. The assistance given to the woman in that case was more likely spontaneous, and I feel this subject was a nonaffiliated soul. 1 will cite an example of a brief positive contact reported to me by a subject who met a clearly defined affiliated soul:
I was walking alone on a beach, totally devastated after being fired from my job. A man appeared and we struck up a conversation. I did not know him and was never to see him again in that life. But that afternoon he came up to me with ease and we talked. I felt myself unloading my problems on this stranger. He calmed me down and gave me greater perspective of my job situation. After about an hour he was gone. Now I see he was an acquaintance in the spirit world from another group. It was no accident we bumped into each other that day. He was sent to me. However, it is with soulmates that we have our most profound contacts.
While considering this book, I was asked by people to be sure and give them one detailed case of a love story between primary soulmates. Being a romantic myself, this request was irresistible.
Case 46
There was an urgency to Maureen’s voice when she called me for an appointment. This was in the days before I had long waiting lists of over a year. Maureen lived close to my office in California and wondered if she might see me with a male friend who was on his way from New York to meet her for the first time. I asked her about this friend she had never met and the following story unfolded.
Three months before, on a computer website, a group of some twenty-five people interested in life after death formed what is known in computer parlance as a “chat room.” Conversations are initiated online in this way for people with similar interests. All this had to be explained to me because I have little knowledge of computers. Maureen said that she and a man named Dale found they were so closely attuned in their discussions about the topic of soulmates they felt connected in a strange way. She added that it was uncanny how Dale mirrored her thoughts. They decided to set up their own private chat room for further computer conversations.
Maureen and Dale learned that they were born only a few months apart fifty years ago in an area around San Francisco. They talked about their unsuccessful marriages and a mutual feeling of unexplained sadness about seeking something neither had ever found that would open their hearts. Their conversations mostly centered around life after death and Dale mentioned reading my work. Soon, the two decided to meet each other in California and see me for a combined regression session at the same time.
I agreed to an appointment date that turned out to be the day after they first met. They arrived at my office starry-eyed and I remarked that they were already in a trance state and didn’t need me. The moment they saw each other there was instant recognition. Maureen said, “The way we smiled at each other—the expression in our eyes— the sound of our laughter together—the connecting vibrations as we shook hands—created a euphoria that was so strong we were oblivious to everything going on around us.”
I will relate this case from the standpoint of Maureen, since she was my initial contact. During intake, I learned that there had been times in her life when she had a feeling of deja vu when she heard music from the 1920s or saw dancers do the Charleston wearing flapper dresses from that era. Maureen also told me that since childhood she had been bothered by a recurring nightmare of sudden death.
It is my custom to take subjects into the spirit world after death from their last life so they will not miss the natural wonders of normal spirit world entry. The advantages of this hypnosis technique are many, including learning if any disrupting body imprints from the last life have been carried forward into the client’s current physical body. To speed up this process by taking subjects directly into the spirit world, say from their mother’s womb, causes them to arrive disoriented. It would be like taking someone into the back of a house and asking them to describe the front. This accelerated procedure for spirit world entry would also cause them to circumvent a variety of orientation stations. These stops might be vital if the death preceding this entry was sudden and traumatic. By not skipping over death scenes, the client is actually better protected from painful physical memories.
Upon my direction to move to the most significant scene in her past life, Maureen took me to the events leading up to her death. This is often a signal of trouble ahead and past life facilitators must be pre- pared to deal with death scenes that can be horrific. What follows is a condensed version of Maureen’s story.
Dr. N: Are you a man or woman?
S: A girl, really.
Dr. N: What is your name?
S: Samantha. Sam for short.
Dr. N: Where are you and what are you doing at this moment?
S: I’m at my bedroom dressing table getting ready to go to a party.
Dr. N: What is the party all about?
S: (pause, and then light laughter) It’s… for me, today is my eighteenth birthday and my parents are giving me a coming-out party.
Dr. N: Well, happy birthday, Sam. What is the date today?
S: (after a brief hesitation) July 26, 1923.
Dr. N: Since you are at your dressing table, I would like you to look in your mirror and describe to me what you see.
S: I’m blond, with my hair up high tonight. I’m wearing a white silk gown. It’s my first real grown-up party dress. I’m going to put on my new white high-heeled shoes.
Dr. N: You sound smashing.
S: (with a knowing smile) Rick better think so.
Dr. N: Who is Rick?
S: (now distracted and flushed) Rick is … my guy … my date for tonight. I’ve got to finish my makeup, he will be here soon.
Dr. N: Listen, Sam, I’m sure you can talk to me while finishing your makeup because I don’t want to slow you down. Tell me, are you serious about Rick?
S: (flushes again) Uh-huh … but I don’t want to appear too eager. I’m playing hard to get. Rick thinks he’s the cat’s meow, but I know he wants me.
Dr. N: I can see this is an important party. I suppose that he will be honking soon for you to run out to his car?
S: (annoyed) Absolutely not! Oh, he’d like that, all right, but he will ring the doorbell in a proper fashion and the maid will let him in and make him wait downstairs.
Dr. N: So the party is some distance from your house?
S: Not too far—it’s in a posh mansion in downtown San Francisco.
Dr. N: Okay, Sam, now move forward in time to the party downtown and explain to me what is going on.
S: (bubbling) I’m having a wonderful time! Rick looks gorgeous, of course. My parents and their friends are telling me how grown-up I look. There is music, dancing… a lot of my friends are congratulating me … and (my subject’s face grows dark for a fleeting moment) there is a lot of drinking my parents don’t know about.
Dr. N: Does this trouble you?
S: (fighting off a new set of feelings by quickly running one hand through her hair and returning to the moment) Oh … drinking is always a part of these affairs—it makes us gay and carefree. I’m drinking too … Rick and some of his friends snuck in the liquor.
Dr. N: Move forward now to the next significant event this evening and explain what is taking place.
S: (subject’s face softens and her voice is more halting) Rick and I are dancing … he is pressed so close to me … we … are on fire … he whispers in my ear that we must get away from the party to be alone for a while.
Dr. N: And how does this make you feel, Samantha?
S: Excited … but something seems to be holding me back … I overcome it… I’m willful. I assume it’s a feeling of my parents’ disapproval… yet, I sense it’s something more. I shake it off in favor of the excitement of the moment.
Dr. N: Stay with this emotion. What happens next?
S: We leave by a side entrance to avoid being seen and go to Rick’s car. It’s a beautiful new red roadster convertible. It’s a marvelous night and the top is down.
Dr. N: Then what do you and Rick do, Sam?
S: We get in the car. Rick takes the pins out of my hair so it will blow free. He gives me a deep kiss. Rick wants to show off… we roar out of a long driveway into the street.
Dr. N: Can you describe the location of the road and the direction you take?
S: (now growing very nervous) We are going south down the Pacific Coast Road out of San Francisco.
Dr. N: What is the ride like for you, Sam?
S: (for one final fleeting moment the subject is free of her premonitions) I feel so alive. It’s a warm night and the wind in my hair blows the strands all over my face. Rick has one arm around me. He squeezes me and says I am the most beautiful girl in the world. We both know we’re in love.
Dr. N: (I notice my subject’s hands now start to shake and her body grows more rigid; I take her hand because I suspect what is coming) Now, Samantha, I want you to understand that as you continue to talk to me I will be with you every step of the way so I can move you quickly through anything that may happen. You know this, don’t you?
S: (faintly) Yes …
Dr. N: Move to the time when things begin to change on this drive with Rick and describe the action.
S: (subject’s entire body now starts to shake) Rick has been drinking too much and the road is getting more curvy. The turns are sharper and Rick only has one hand on the wheel. We are near a hilly section … close to the ocean … there is a cliff… the car is all over the road, (now shouting) RICK, SLOW DOWN!
Dr. N: Does he?
S: (crying now) OH, GOD, NO. HE WON’T! HE IS LAUGHING AND LOOKING AT ME AND NOT THE ROAD.
Dr. N: Quickly now, Sam—keep going.
S: (with a sob) We miss the next curve—the car is in space—we are crashing into the ocean … I’m dying … the water … so cold … can’t breathe … Oh, Rick … Rick …
We stop while I begin rapid desensitization of this traumatic memory while at the same time bringing Samantha’s soul out of her physical body. I remind her she has been through physical death many times before and she will be all right. Samantha explains that she is reluctant
to go because her young life was only starting. She didn’t want to leave Rick but the pulling sensation away from the ocean was “too insistent.”
When I began my research on the soul, I assumed that when two people such as Samantha and Rick died together they would also enter the spirit world together. I have found this not to be true in death scenes, with one exception. Small children who are killed with those who love them rise with that person. I will elaborate on this further in chapter 9 under souls of the young. Even primary soulmates killed at the same moment will normally rise up by separate routes on their own vibrational lines. I felt that this loss of companionship was a little sad until it was made clear to me that souls are met by their guides and friends from the spirit world at the appropriate time and place. Each soul requires their own rate of ascension, which includes orientation stops and energy rejuvenation, even if they are returning to the same soul group. This was true for Rick and Samantha.
Dr. N: Do you see Rick anywhere?
S: No, I’m trying to resist the pulling which wants me to turn around and face upwards. I want to continue to face the ocean … I want to help Rick.
Dr. N: Does the force eventually turn you around in the proper direction away from the Pacific Ocean?
S: (subject is now quiet and resigned, but mournful as well) Yes, I am now far above the Earth.
Dr. N: (this is a question I usually ask people) Do you want to say- goodbye to your parents before going further?
S: Oh … no … not right now … later I will… now I just want to go.
Dr. N: I understand. Tell me, what do you see next, Samantha?
S: The eye of a tunnel… opening and closing … coordinating its movement with my movement. I pass through and feel much lighter. It’s so bright now. Someone in a robe is coming toward me.
In Dale’s session, we learned he was Rick and his memories corroborated those of Maureen. While Samantha apparently lived a few seconds after the crash and rose out of the ocean, Rick’s soul bailed out while the car was still in the air. When I related this story to a Dallas audience a lady loudly scolded, “Isn’t that just like a man!” I told her that when the mind knows there is no chance of surviving imminent devastation to the body, souls may leave a moment before actual death. In this way the soul emerges with their energy more intact.
After the sessions with Dale and Maureen were completed, I met with these primary soulmates for a review of what we had learned. Maureen explained that whenever she drove down Highway 1, south of San Francisco, she would inexplicably get very nervous and apprehensive at a certain section on the coast road. Now she knew why. I hoped my deprogramming of her death scene in 1923 would also clear up the recurring nightmares of sudden death. A month later Maureen wrote and confirmed this nightmare was finally gone.
The wonders of synchronicity became evident in this case when Dale told me that one of the reasons he left the area where he was born was because he felt uncomfortable driving around San Francisco. You would think that the time we spend in the spirit world between lives should eliminate all residual effects of our past life experiences. In most cases it does but, as I have said, some people do carry physical and emotional body imprints from one life to the next. This is especially true if that imprint bears upon a particular karmic lesson in the life to come.
Why were these primary soulmates separated in their current lives for fifty years? To understand this we must start with the dynamics of their cluster group. Dale and Maureen come from a level I soul group. In varying degrees, these twelve souls are intense fighters and risk takers. Their guide regularly takes them to nearby groups just so they can see how other groups function with more peace and harmony. Dale and Maureen told me these visitations were interesting but they found peaceful souls “sort of boring.” Certainly, there are members of their group who are less restless, but Rick/Dale isn’t one of them. In his cur- rent life he was an Army Ranger who served three tours in Vietnam. “I didn’t expect to come back,” he told me, “and that would have been okay.” Because he likes living on the edge of danger, he left the service after the war because being a peacetime soldier was too dull.
After the car crash in 1923 the group’s senior guide picked up Rick, who spent considerably more time in debriefing and orientation than did Samantha. When he did return to the group, Rick was very chagrined. In a tender scene of energy caressing, Rick told his primary soul-mate how sorry he was for cutting off her young life. It was not clear from the session just how much they both knew about the possibility of the crash in advance. They have been lovers in numerous past lives, many involving turmoil. Although Dale and Maureen incarnated at the same time in this life and in the same place as their life in the 1920s, they were not destined to meet while young. The same sensory experience and emotional energy from this geographical location simply were part of the conditions for meeting much later in their current lives.
These soulmates both knew going into their current life that conditions would not be right for their meeting until many years had passed. Dale especially needed to feel the frustration of years of longing for the right woman to come along. He is not a careless, irresponsible man today. Samantha/Maurcen also required the maturity she did not yet possess in her relationship with Rick in the 1920s. Neither Dale nor Maureen take life for granted at this stage of their conjunction. They have both been through considerable heartache without each other. My work with this couple ended with both essentially making the same declaration. Maureen said, “We are completing our healing by a clear respect for the sanctity of life and importance of forgiveness. Now that we both know the meaning of loss, we are going to treasure the time we have left together in this life.”
Before closing this section on soulmates, I should add that many soulmates have a preparation class just before their next incarnation. A feature of this dress rehearsal with our guides is a final review of important issues in the life to come. One aspect of this prep class might also include two soulmates going off alone and sending visual images to each other of what they will look like in their new human bodies and under what circumstances they are going to meet.
In journey of Souls I wrote a chapter citing examples of this sort of preparation for embarkation. Soulmates don’t always get together just before departure. Then too, depending upon the karma involved, sometimes one soul knows more than the other about their future meeting and what that person will look like. Here is a short example of a soulmate discussing meeting his future wife:
I was permitted to see my wife in the screening room for the next life. She was an attractive aerobics instructor who I would meet in a gym. I studied her body and facial features carefully because I didn't want to mess up our meeting, as I had done in my prior life. The scent of her body bathed in sweat was embedded in my mind ... her gestures . . . her smile . . . and most of all her eyes. The moment I saw her in this life it was like two magnets pulling together.
Linkages Between Spiritual and Human Families
As a rule, members of the same soul group do not return in their next incarnations as members of the same genetic human family. This means, contrary to American Indian tradition, a grandfather’s soul would typically not return to the body of his grandson. I have emphasized the opposition souls have for genetic reincarnation in chapter 4 under soul division and again in chapter 5 with DNA. It is limiting and even redundant for souls who wish to learn fresh lessons to return to bodies having the same heredity, ethnicity, cultural environment, and perhaps the same geographic setting as they had in a former life. By incarnating in different families around the globe in each life, souls are able to take advantage of the great variety of human body choices. This variety is what gives depth to our incarnations on Earth.
In unusual cases, our guides may be indulgent with souls who have strong feelings about unfinished karmic business within a particular family and wish to return to the same family. These souls may be given another crack at addressing a serious wrong done to them, or to correct harm they have caused another in the family. They could return as chil- dren of a new generation, but within the same lifetime of those people who were involved with the karmic events requiring their attention. I want to stress these occurrences of genetic reincarnation for karmic purposes are rare. It is far more likely the soul would return to another family with peripheral associations to the family of their former life to redress a serious wrong. Nevertheless, this too would be a very unconventional decision, especially in cases of personal injury to the soul, because it smacks of revenge.
Although souls typically do not incarnate in the same hereditary family they had in past lives, members of the same soul group most definitely choose new families where they can be together. Members of soul groups tend to be associated in each life by blood ties and geo- graphic proximity. What sort of roles do they choose? I’m sure readers of this book could sit down and draw up a chart showing significant members of their family, friends, lovers and even acquaintances to see who might be the most likely candidates for their own soul family.
In chapter 5, figure 7,1 charted the color auras of a soul family in their current life. Figure 10 is a diagram showing how a group of souls incarnated into human families in order to stay connected to one another over the past three centuries. My central subject in this diagram is Ruth. Please note that from one century to the next, the family heredity is completely different despite the genealogical overtones of my chart. Figure 10 is an abbreviated version of Ruth’s spiritual friends in human bodies. There are six souls listed from her own cluster group and two from an affiliated group to be found in each century.
This webbed diagram illustrates primary, companion and affiliated soulmates who have incarnated into bodies related to the lives of the subject, Ruth, over the past three centuries. Each generational line outward from the center represents the same soul in different bodies.
This webbed diagram illustrates primary, companion and affiliated soulmates who have incarnated into bodies related to the lives of the subject, Ruth, over the past three centuries. Each generational line outward from the center represents the same soul in different bodies.
Ruth appears in the center of the diagram and each of the connecting lines from the center outward represents the same soul assuming different family roles relating to Ruth from the twentieth century back to the eighteenth century. We can see that Ruth’s primary soulmate in this life is her husband. In Ruth’s last life, this soul was her best friend, and in the life before, her wife when she was a male in the eighteenth century. Ruth’s primary soulmate has a halo color tinted with protective yellow while Ruth’s own halo is a mixture of white and blue tints, indicating clarity and love of learning. These primary soulmates have mated on a fairly regular basis for some 7,000 years since their first life together.
Besides the companion souls in Ruth’s soul group, I have also shown two affiliated souls from a nearby group. These souls are my subject’s current father and mother. The roles they played in the nineteenth century were her grandmother and grandfather respectively. In the eighteenth century, these same two souls were Ruth’s aunt and uncle. Ruth’s chart represents one typical client. Every soul group has its own subtle variations of human family preferences. 1 had a client the same week I saw Ruth who is extremely close to her mother. The mother’s soul was a member of that client’s soul group and was her sister in the life before.
Grandparents often have a great influence in our early lives as non- judgmental confidants. I often find that a favorite grandparent in this life was a sibling or best friend in a former life. The social dynamics of intimate human contact are so powerful that in most of my cases the roles souls play in our lives and we in theirs directly bear on a group’s karmic lessons. When we are hurt by someone close to us in life, or caused them hurt resulting in alienation and separation, it is because they volunteered to teach us lessons of some sort while learning lessons themselves. These lessons better prepare both parties for future relationships, as case 47 will show.
I should also point out that peripheral roles in our lives by hundreds of affiliated souls in nearby groups may go on for generations. Because of space, I did not list all these souls on Ruth’s past life chart in figure 10. An example of one important affiliated soul not included here is a soul called Zenda, who was Ruth’s favorite teacher in the sixth grade. We found that in the last century, Zenda was a supportive next-door neighbor. In the eighteenth century Zenda was the owner of a business that employed this subject. The web design of figure 10 is appropriate when we consider all the interrelationships of people whose own lives are woven into our own.
The psychological profiles of primary, companion and affiliated souls in a client’s current and past lives is very instructive when detailed in a genealogical-type chart. In each of the three past centuries we found another leading actor in Ruth’s lives who was from an affiliated soul group. There was not space for her in figure 10 either. This soul, known as Ortier, assumed roles involving jealous, unemotional and manipulative people. She was sent to test Ruth’s trusting nature so she would learn to recover more quickly from the hurt and deal with it in a healthy manner. While this same individual would also demonstrate good qualities in human temperament, the negatives were very constant. In Ruth’s current life, Ortier is her mother-in-law. In the life before, this soul played the role of a close friend who betrayed her. There is evidence the karmic cycles with Ortier assuming roles as a protagonist will end soon for Ruth.
Ruth is a warm, passionate and tender person. Her primary soul- mate has aspects of these qualities but is also tenacious, brutally frank and decisive. Many other souls in figure 10 are rather reserved and quiet. They also have character similarities of perfectionism and stub- bornness.
One soul in the group is sloppy, easygoing and more complacent than the rest. He is my client’s brother, Andy, in her current life. This soul volunteered to be Ruth’s husband in the last century as a change of pace for her. During that life, Ruth’s primary soulmate chose the role of a male friend. They were so drawn to each other they had an affair that almost destroyed Ruth’s marriage with Andy. She finally realized in this past life that Andy, an uncustomary mate to be sure, was a person who opened her mind in a relaxed way to a more optimistic existence where she would learn to appreciate each day and see more humor in life to complement her naturally warm nature. Although not a great love match, Ruth found tolerance and playfulness with Andy as her husband in the nineteenth century. Meanwhile, her primary soulmate was coping with a new challenge of being married to someone else whose character was much more confrontative than Ruth’s.
I don’t wish to leave the impression that not being married to your primary soulmate is a formula for discontent. As a matter of fact, I have had clients who have deliberately alternated mates in a series of lives with three or four souls from their inner circle to meet certain challenges. Although the souls of Ruth and Andy tried this for the first time in the nineteenth century, the results were mostly positive.
Reuniting with Souls Who Have Hurt Us
Now that we have an idea of the roles different soulmates can play in our lives, I want to discuss a specific aspect of these associations that is of interest to people. I am often asked what it is like to see someone in our soul group right after a life where they have hurt us in some way.
The philosopher Heidegger said, “No one else can love for you or feel your pain.” This statement may be true on Earth, but not in the spirit world. Souls are capable of getting into the minds of their friends and feeling just what they feel. They do this for reasons of empathy, a desire for understanding and to evaluate the disruptive behavior of each other in the last life.
In case 47,1 have chosen a man who had a rough start in his last life with an abusive, tyrannical father who was never satisfied with anything he did. For simplification, I will use the Earth names of these players with my subject being Ray and his father as Carl. Ray was a troubled boy who grew up lacking self-worth and his entire adult life was spent trying to conquer these negative feelings. Ray hid his sensitivity from others by building protective walls around himself. What happened when father and son met again in the spirit world is the sub- stance of this case.
We are going to sit in on what Ray called “a motivational critiquing session” with Carl. The opening scene begins innocently enough with the usual greetings extended to an arriving soul by members of a cluster group. It might be helpful to refer back to figure 3 on page 143 where I have diagrammed the soul group as they would appear on the upper half of a clock. I employ my “clock technique” with incoming souls to help me determine soul position as my hypnosis subjects identify members of their cluster group.
Case 47
Dr. N: As you draw closer to these souls, how are they arranged in front of you?
S: Mmm … sort of a half circle with me coming into the middle.
Dr. N: I want you to imagine that their positions conform to the face of a clock. You are in the center, where the hands of the clock are located. The person directly in front of you would be at 12 o’clock. The one on your left is at 9 o’clock and the one on your right at 3 o’clock. Do you understand?
S: Yes, but my guide Ix-Ax is behind me right now.
Dr. N: That’s usual at this first reunion, Ray. We will consider him to be between 7 and 5 o’clock. Now tell me, from what direction on the face of our clock does the first person come forward to greet you?
S: To my far left—at 9 o’clock.
Note: The first person to come forward and greet us after a life is always a soul of significance.
Dr. N: That’s fine. Does this soul appear as a male or female to you, or is the soul genderless?
S: (tenderly) It’s my wife, Marian.
Dr. N: And what does she do right now?
S: Cups my face in her hands … she gives me a soft, gentle kiss and then hugs my head.
Each spirit has their own style of greeting for the incoming soul. After Marian, Ray’s grandmother wraps her energy completely around him lovingly, as a cloak. Then, his daughter Ann comes forward. Part of her energy is still on Earth because her current incarnation is not yet complete. Despite this reduction in energy mass, Ann clasps Ray in an exuberant rocking motion while laughing at his unsettled demeanor.
As we progressed around the clock, I noticed that my subject grew more uneasy. I suspected an important member of the group was not yet in Ray’s line of sight. As we neared the end of the circle of souls, the mood began to change when Ray encountered what I call “the hunkering- down syndrome,” which is caused by one soul hiding behind another. Sometimes the act is playful, rather like hide-and-seek, but not in this case.
Dr. N: Is that everybody?
S: (twisting uncomfortably in my office chair) No … I see a shadow behind my Aunt Bess.
Dr. N: (after calming and reassurance) Ray, tell me exactly what happens next.
S: I see a flash of light now. (with recognition) Oh … it’s my father…
Carl. He is hiding behind the rest. He wants to be last. He is avoiding me. He is embarrassed at the lightness of the moment—all the hugging, laughing and excitement going on. My father doesn’t feel like participating in this right now with me. (darkly) Neither do I.
Note: A little further on in the session I make the transition back to the soul who was Carl.
Dr. N: I want you to move forward to the time when you talk to Carl. Try to give me the details of just how your conversation with him unfolds.
S: We soon get to this… the critiquing of what took place and why … talking about our attitudes and judgments. Marian and Ann are there, and Carl is still chagrined. He starts by saying, “I was too severe with you as your father. I know what we planned got out of hand. That life—it just got away from me …”
Dr. N: What does this admission mean to you, Ray?
S: (with a sense of revelation) Carl’s soul is not like the alcoholic, abusive man who was my father … oh, I see some similarities … but his innate goodness was shut down. He was not able to control the obsessions of this body.
Dr. N: Forgive me, Ray, but aren’t you making excuses for his performance? I mean, Carl had lessons to learn too, didn’t he?
S: Okay, he volunteered to join with a body prone to emotional out- bursts. Besides the plan of making things deliberately hard for me, he wanted to see if he could better moderate a body prone to violence. Carl’s previous life was one of excesses. He admits this last life we had together did not work out well. Carl did not do the right thing by me or himself.
Dr. N: (pressing) You still don’t think Carl is excusing what he did to you as your father because of his body type?
S: No, you can’t get away with that here. Carl is explaining that he failed me in many ways this time around, but he learned from the life and he asks me if I did too. (pause)
Dr. N: Please continue with this, Ray.
S: (a deep sigh) 1 can see all his anger is gone and this is strange to me now because I haven’t yet gotten used to his real self… but it won’t take long.
Dr. N: As you consider all this, Ray, what negative inclinations does the soul of Carl have which carry into his incarnations?
S: He knows it is the desire to control events and people around him. His past life as my father fed into those tendencies. Both of us have trouble in life with confrontation. This is why we work so well with Ann and Marian. They seem to diffuse life’s frustrations so much easier than we do.
Dr. N: Let’s return to the circumstances which led to your need to be under the control of a stern father who was supposed to make things deliberately hard. Even if Carl had not gone overboard in his assignment, I don’t understand why you volunteered to be his son.
S: (laughs) For that you would have to know our guide, Ix-Ax. He uses humor rather than being overly preachy. He doesn’t push us hard as an authority figure because Carl and I react badly to a firm hand. Ix- Ax nudges us while letting us believe all the ideas we get come from our own perceptions, (pauses) Ix-Ax allows me to think I am getting away with something and then he tweaks my conscience. He is a coach, not a director.
Dr. N: Well, I’m glad to get that information about Ix-Ax, but how does all this relate to you and Carl and this past life of a damaged relationship between you?
S: (patiently) In my life before the last one with Carl I was an orphan and got into some bad habits. I lost my real identity in that body. It was a wake-up call.
Dr. N: In what way?
S: I had no directional support as a kid. My mother had died. Being alone as a kid can make or break you. The trouble was… as I grew stronger and more self-reliant, I had little concern for others. I created a life of taking and giving back little. I felt people owed me.
Dr. N: Look, Ray, do you have to go to such extremes? How about having a loving father in the life you planned with Carl to compensate for the one before as an orphan?
S: (shrugs) Too easy. After my life as an orphan, Ix-Ax asked me, “I suppose now you are ready for a life of being pampered by indulgent parents?” I said to him, “Say, that doesn’t sound bad at all.” Then he added, “Shall we also arrange for you to be an only child of wealthy parents?” We had some fun with this scenario for a while with Carl entering into the discussion with a few quips about wanting plenty of money as my rich father in order to play the horses. He loves horses.
Dr. N: So how did you and Carl finally come around to making the decision to have a stressful life together?
S: Ix-Ax knows us so well. I am too far along for a soft-soap approach to life. In the end we asked him for assignments together in a difficult environment.
Dr. N: Didn’t things go from bad to worse for you as far as loneliness and alienation in your last two lives? I’m wondering if you and Carl learned anything from having such a poor relationship as father and son.
S: (pause, while rubbing his hands together in thought) Yes and no. It’s true I let my alienation in both these past lives serve as an lack of real progress but at least I had a father in my last life who didn’t leave. I did better with Carl’s abuse than total abandonment in my life before Carl, when I was an orphan.
Dr. N: That’s not much of an endorsement. Was the soul of Carl your father in your life as an orphan?
S:No.
Dr. N: What was your primary lesson in the last two lives?
S: To keep my identity, no matter what the adversity. This will make me a stronger soul.
Dr. N: I’m sure it will, Ray. But I should think you might consider slowing down now and then and take easier lives as a change of pace. Would it be so bad to catch your breath and build a stronger foundation for identity retention in future bodies?
S: (clearly upset with this suggestion) No! 1 told you I can do this and Ix-Ax knows it, too. My strength is perseverance in fighting adversity. My life with Carl as my father was a recovery test from the previous life as an orphan and it was not a failure for me. (forcefully) I learned plenty for the next life and 1 tell Carl this to make him feel better.
Dr. N: How do the two of you bring all this to some sort of resolution in the spirit world?
S: (in a softer, more contemplative tone) When we are alone we agree to exchange the energy of our thoughts and all the memories of that life together.
Dr. N: Is this the full mind exchange I have heard about?
S: Yes, every particle of my identity as Carl’s son in that life is transferred to Carl while he projects all his memories as my father to me. It’s very subjective—and that’s good. In my group we call this passing the cup of sorrows.
Dr. N: And is each perspective totally honest? S: There can be no deception here.
Dr. N: Does this exchange last long?
S: No, the transfer is brief but complete. Then we know all the trials and burdens, pain and anger—the drives—from the other’s perspective because it is like actually being inside their old body. We become the other person.
Dr. N: Does this mind exchange bring forgiveness?
S: It is so much more than that. It is an indescribable melding of two minds. We can both experience the circumstances which led the other to make certain choices. I feel Carl’s lack of fulfillment and he feels mine. Once the exchange is made, it cuts so deep forgiveness toward another isn’t necessary. You forgive yourself and then we heal each other. Understanding is absolute. We will try again in a different life until we get it right.
After some initial awkwardness in the spirit world following their last lives together, Ray and Carl were relaxed and happy once again in their soul group. This does not mean that Carl’s conduct was quickly exonerated in the spirit world. During his life review and evaluation, before he saw Ray, Carl was keenly aware of the excessive pain and hurt he had wrought upon Ray. There are two forces at work here. The first is the potential subversion of the soul’s full character by the biophysical attributes of a host body, along with the effects of specific environmental influences. The second factor is the role they were each assigned to play out in the stream of karmic causation.
Each life is a piece of fabric which makes up the whole tapestry of our existence. If a family member or friend is harsh and uncompromising, or perhaps weak and emotionally distant toward us in life, we are only seeing an external portion of the entire true character of that soul. Role assignments in life all have purpose. If you grew up with a particularly difficult parent, as Ray did with Carl, ask yourself this question: What did I learn at the hands of this person that has given me wisdom I would not possess if he or she had never been in my life?
Ray has had his difficulties in his current life with chemical dependency and obsessive behavior. Yet, at age 45, he is drawing on his inner resources and turning things around, from what Ray has told me, get- ting in touch with his true soul identity in our session together has been very helpful. The soul of Carl is now my client’s older brother, who was not easy on Ray when they were growing up. Many of the same relationship patterns are being played out today as in the past. Even so, these two souls have been far more engaged with each other as brothers than they were as father and son.
By not burying unpleasant memories in this life, Ray’s soul lives in a mentally healthier body. This time around the soul of Ann, a principal player, is Ray’s mother rather than a daughter. She provides a different generational dimension to his current life. Gershen Kaufman has written that “shame is a kind of soul murder.” One of Ray’s issues is the handling of shame. Shame brings a numbness to our minds because it ushers in feelings of nonacceptance, of being no good and having no validity. It may be so overpowering as to preclude any soul progress in a human mind that has shut down. However, Ray is an unusually determined soul who, as we have seen, won’t give up these hard lives for an occasional rest. He grows stronger by building on each hard life.
Case 47 illustrates that there are souls who continually ask for body types that challenge their weakness of soul character. Both Ray and Carl are souls who easily fall into addictive habits with certain types of body chemistry. Why do they continue to ask for these bodies? They do it for practice. Any obsessive mood-altering behavior is a fix and Ray is determined to conquer this before moving on. I know this soul is making progress. After two failed marriages, Ray told me he has met the woman of his dreams, but he had to be clean of drugs and alcohol to appreciate her. We learned his wife-to-be is the soul of Marian.
A final word about the hunkering-down syndrome, where a returning soul might not initially see a group member clearly. When this happens to someone sitting in my office it may be that the soul who is hiding from a client’s conscious awareness is going to have a profound future impact. I recall a young widow who came to see me while still grieving over the recent loss of her husband. We had reviewed all the members of her soul group, including the soul of her departed husband. He embraced her in an emotional scene where he told her to stay strong and everything would turn out all right. Then she said, “Ah, there is one more. A dark figure, bending down behind the others. Oh—it’s the soul of my future husband. I’m sure of this—but we haven’t met yet in this life. I’m not supposed to know who he is right now because it would spoil the spontaneity of our meeting.”
Interaction Between Soul Groups
I have said that almost all the younger soul groups remain in their own study areas. Particularly with the level I and lis, their designated spaces are sacrosanct with self-imposed boundaries between classrooms. The underlying basis for these conventions is that all souls have respect for the privacy of the work going on in other study areas. Spiritual class- rooms are not like earthly models where we need excuse slips for absences. Souls are free to avoid study engagements with their own classmates at any time. If a soul wants solitude, or to be involved in some private work which they feel is beneficial to them away from their companions, they are free to do so as long as this activity does not interfere with the work of another group.
I find that souls are not forced to study and some take long periods of rest. Even so, most souls 1 talk to feel left out if they are not with their classmates in some ongoing project. It is the excitement of mastering certain skills that drives them. Thus, most souls don’t wish to get involved in the middle of projects by other groups. I find that no two groups in a vicinity are at exactly the same level in all departments of study. So regardless of your developmental level, it is not all that easy to visit another classroom and gain something from a lesson in progress.
Visits between soul group members are selective and designed for specific reasons. Since such visitations are by invitations emanating from teacher-guides, they are the exception rather than the rule in the spirit world. There are groups who consort with sojourners while oth- ers don’t appear to see souls from other groups at all, except when they are away from their study areas. When souls arrive near the end of their level II training, they begin to push very hard. It is during this time when my subjects most frequently talk about the opportunity of visiting other cluster groups. The client in my next case had the following to say about one of his visits. Dr. N: Why did you want to visit this nearby soul group?
S: I come from a less serious group than many. I like to visit with this cluster because they are slightly ahead of my own. It helps my game
of life to be around better players. Most of them arc about ready to move up into independent study and they are very determined. I tell them a few jokes about my group to loosen them up and they give me practical ideas.
Dr. N: Do you visit with them often?
S: No, we know how busy everyone is and I respect that. I don’t like to interrupt them too much. Dr. N: Tell me about your last visit and what took place.
S: (pause) They were in the middle of a heated discussion. One of their members, called Orick, was going over a dream sequence he had from an incarnation that recently ended. Orick thought they might like to know about this incident.
Dr. N: An incident involving a dream by Orick when he was last in human form on Earth?
S: That’s right. Someone out of incarnation in his group had sent Orick information while he was asleep that his human mind misinterpreted.
Dr. N: Well, was that the fault of the sender—this discarnate—or Orick?
S: You must understand the group I am visiting are pros at this sort of thing. They don’t like mistakes. They are a very serious bunch.
Dr. N: Please go on. What did you learn from the retelling of this incident by Orick about his dream?
S: The morning after his dream on Earth, Orick said he went into deep meditation to try and sort out the message he had received during the night. I guess it was too muddled in his human mind to make much sense. Orick was lightly chiding his friend—the one who sent the message—that he ought to perfect his message-sending through dreams.
Dr. N: What did the sender of the dream say to Orick?
S: He said in an offhanded way, “No, you just translated the infor- mation I sent you in an imperfect fashion and then you acted wrongly on your own misinformation.”
Dr. N: And what did the group you were visiting conclude from this discussion between Orick and his friend?
S: I think everyone decided that even though two souls are very close the imperfect aspects of the receiving human brain can screw up any transmission. The safe thing for a soul in the spirit world to do is transmit more than once and not rely on one medium, such as the dream state. Also, to keep the messages short and very clear.
Dr. N: So, this was a productive visit for you? You learned some- thing?
S: I always do. Mostly I keep quiet and listen with this particular group. The discussion about transmitting spiritual messages was useful to me and I took what I learned from this visit back to my group for study.
Those groups who are uncomfortable with ordinary visitors may welcome an advanced specialist or high-profile soul unique to their experience. I presented an example of this sort of visitation under colors of visitors in groups in chapter 5. Yet even the clannish groups seem to enjoy socializing out of their study areas. I have already reviewed the community areas where large numbers of primary groups meet to engage in conversation with each other. To many souls this practice is considered recreation.
Because many souls do become restless at times with their formal work, instructor souls often arrange for gatherings at the community centers to hear guest speakers. The visiting speakers at these functions give souls a break from their regular teachers, which allows for different perspectives with topics of general interest to the soul groups. These messages could center around how to appreciate others, the benefits of kind acts, loyalty and integrity, and how to be generous with the gifts each of us possesses. I know the expressions of all these moral sentiments doesn’t sound much like recreation, but the speakers spice things up with personal anecdotes and many allegories where they draw parallels to their earthly experiences. There are also other subtle conversations here between masters of their craft and members of an audience of souls that my subjects are unable to translate for me. I have a quote which gives the flavor of such a gathering:
Our training is helped by the roving guest speakers. They are different in approach and character from my own guide, and that’s helpful. There is one woman called Sha- lakin whom I adore. She comes to our center once in a while and I never miss her. Her particular skill is the ability to take any problem and quickly boil it down to the heart of the matter. She can take a complex idea and get through to me so quickly I somehow know I am going to respond much more effectively the next time it confronts me in life. She tells us to listen to people we don’t particularly like on Earth because we can learn something from everyone.
Recreational Activities in the Spirit World
Leisure Time
This section is dedicated to all those who are afraid that life between lives involves only work and no play. The term R & R, rest and recreation, is quite appropriate in the spirit world and I have listened to the statements from hundreds of clients about what they do outside of their training areas. After physical death our spirit continues to carry all the fond memories of earthly life. The poignancy of tasting food and drink, touching human bodies, the smell, sights and sounds of walking the deserts, climbing mountains and swimming in the seas of Earth remain with the soul. An eternal mind can reminisce about the motor movements and sensory pleasures of a human vessel and all the feelings it generated. Thus, it is natural souls would want to maintain these planetary memories by re-creating their former bodies in the spirit world. After all, it was here (in the spirit world) where the conceptual design and eventual energy models for physical organisms began In this section, I will also discuss soul travel to Earth between lives as a part of R & R. Chapter 8 will deal with souls who travel to worlds other than Earth. These soul trips could be construed as “working vacations” for exploration and study, or they could be devoted exclusively to leisure time. The allocation of study versus leisure time on physical and mental worlds away from the soul’s home is flexible, depending upon the primary purpose of the trip and the mood of the soul. Since I am devoting this section to soul recreation, my case examples involving trips to Earth and other activities in the spirit world will be confined to soul entertainment.
Recess Breaks
My subjects differentiate between the shorter breaks from soul study and those involving more recreation time. This is an example from a male client relating a typical intermission from class work:
There are ten people in my group and we separate from each other during the short breaks. I like to wander about, away from our enclosure. 1 might go down the hall and out into an open area where people from many other groups are milling around and talking. What I like about these casual rest periods is the spontaneity. We can easily meet someone who we might like to be paired up with in some way in a future life. It isn’t that we talk shop at these breaks as much as the exposure of just meeting and getting to know other sorts of souls. Of course, there is always the fun of bumping into someone from a past life who we haven’t seen in a while and comparing notes.
Another subject had this to say about lesson breaks with members of her group who are inclined to choose female bodies:
We go to a space surrounded by a lush garden of flowers. It has a beautiful pool with vibrating, restorative, liquid energy. It is shallow so we can wade rather than actually swim. We float around as water nymphs and tell each other funny stories about our lives.
In those groups where souls are not yet fully androgynous I do hear about gender-oriented recreational activities. This does not surprise me. As I have said before, the younger souls are inclined toward one gender when they incarnate on Earth. One subject said to me, “During our picnics at the breaks, my women friends and I flirt with some of the male-oriented souls from other groups close by us. We threaten to become their wives in the next life if they don’t behave.”
Quiet Solitude as R&R
Because the work activities of soul groups is demanding, there are souls who prefer settings of solitude during their off time. We all know people who prefer to be alone rather than socialize. Many of us become so distracted by the hectic roles we play in life, it is difficult to learn who we really are. Under case 22 in chapter 4,1 referred to souls of solitude, who require a lengthy period of adjustment alone after particularly hard lives. These souls are not usually the monastically-oriented beings who require steady doses of solitude throughout their existence. Certainly, most souls rejuvenate well with some solitude. Yet I have encountered certain souls who seem to require regular periods of seclusion mixed with group class time. I consider many souls of this type to be ascetics. I feel the appeal of periods of quiet time represents a form of mental contemplation similar to that experienced from abbeys to ashrams on Earth where we focus on spiritual principles. A client made the following symbolic statement:
I am called the Wreathweaver by my group. I like to be by myself so I can see myself. Within my quiet time, I construct circular bands of energy—weaving them together as a tapestry of my lives and that of my six closest friends. I display the diversity of our life experiences by weaving different materials—attributes of energy— which represent the trappings of people and events. To execute this properly I must have total concentration.
My subjects say that the desire for time alone in the spirit world comes from an intense need to dwell within the sacred confines of pure thought to try and touch the Source from which they sprang. Many say they have profound moments of success but it is intense work. I have found that some of these ascetic souls have trouble participating in group activities and will shun recreation periods because they prefercontemplation. Despite their detachment during training, down the line these souls are capable of making great contributions in their specialty areas.
Going to Earth for R&R
There are souls who come to Earth as invisible beings between lives so they can re-experience former physical environments. The only problem with this is they must return to chronological time, which means these souls are caught up with change since they were last here. In chapter 3, the soul in case 17 described returning to Earth on a vacation trip and running into other discarnates, some of whom were disruptive. This factor, plus not wanting to dilute old, original memories, can dissuade souls from coming back to Earth between lives. There are souls who find this sort of nostalgic trip to be unrewarding and even frustrating out of a physical body. This situation does not apply to those souls who come back to comfort and aid loved ones and are not motivated by a desire for recreation.
From what I have observed, it is change that seems to have the biggest impact on the vacationing soul. Many won’t return to Earth for recreation between lives because of the day-to-day modernization of the communities they once occupied. In dimensions away from ground zero on Earth, images of places and the people who once lived here are frozen in a timeless vacuum that never vanishes from existence. The patterns of energy particles representing moments in human history can be retrieved at will by souls who are out of absolute physical time.
Nonetheless, there are souls who still want to come back for planetary visits, despite the negatives. My next case is one of those souls who enjoys roaming around his old haunts on Earth. Out of a multitude of possible case selections, I chose the next case for personal reasons. The area described is where I grew up. Case 49 and I participated in the same activity, which even overlapped in time during the last few years of his life, ending in 1948. As I consider this case, I wonder if I will be imitating this soul’s spiritual recreation myself in the twenty-first century?
Case 49
Dr. N: What do you find most enjoyable as a recreational activity between lives?
S: I like to come to Earth.
Dr. N: Where do you go?
S: I loved the beaches of southern California in my last life. So I return to sit on the sand in the sun, walk the beach among the seagulls, and be in the surf. My passion are the waves—the feeling of movement and the crashing foam.
Dr. N: How can you fully experience all this at the beach without a physical body?
S: I take just enough energy with me for the experience but not enough to be seen.
Dr. N: I have been told that on many recreation jaunts a soul might take 100 percent of their energy. What do you do?
S: We don’t do this on Earth because it would not be fair to scare people. I bring no more than 5 percent, usually a bit less.
Dr. N: Are you capable of riding waves?
S: (laughing) Absolutely, why do you think I come? I also soar with the birds and play with dolphins.
Dr. N: If you were a spirit sitting on the beach enjoying the sun and I walked past you, what would I see?
S: Nothing, I am transparent.
Dr. N: Would that mean if I were strolling along the beach would I just walk through you in your space without sensing your presence?
S: Well… a few people might sense something but they would probably dismiss this as a figment of their imagination.
Dr. N: Could you go to other physical worlds to experience what you have described?
S: Yes, but I loved this area and I have been here in more than one life. That is why I return. For me the sea is part of my soul. I could go to other water worlds, or create all this in the spirit world, but for me this would not be quite the same thing.
Dr. N: Where are your other favorite spots to play based upon your former lives on Earth?
S: Around the Mediterranean and Aegean Seas.
Creation of Earthly Settlements
The Apaches believe that “wisdom sits in places.” Since it is possible to create any reality in the spirit world, it is not unusual that some souls wish to spend their off periods in the houses where they lived on Earth. Frequently, these souls prefer to suspend the timeline where they lived in a former life and not expose themselves to huge increases in population and alterations of their old neighborhoods. This is like freezingmoments in past time, which souls who wish to spend their recreation time in the spirit world can do.
These souls may want to mentally construct an exact duplication of familiar settings around where they used to live, such as the surrounding countryside, parks and streets, and any structures which remind them of their old hometowns. They only have to conjure up these places from memory and use directed energy beams for the images to appear. To fully implement these projects created out of pure energy, the assistance of others may be required. Once in place, they will disintegrate only when the soul loses interest.
The bodies souls had during the time when they lived in certain locations are also re-created by them whenever they are in residence. Souls may wish to add their old pets to these scenes, which I will explain more about in the section on animals. I must say that many of the souls who appreciate this sort of recreation are fun-loving and humorous. They might ask their past life friends to come and socialize with them at re-created geographic locations of mutual interest. Soul-mates have priority here, as the next quote clearly indicates:
My wife Erika and I loved the small house we built in the Bavarian Alps. We wanted it again after death and so we built it with the help of our energy teacher. He thought it was good practice for us. The model was in my mind and he saw it perfectly before we began the energy transmissions. Additional touches of the exterior came from our friends Hans and Elfie, who lived near our house in Germany and are with us now. The interior furnishings Erika and I did without help. I created my old library and my wife set up her kitchen just as it was. It is wonderful to be alone again with her in this way.
People are curious if souls can have intimate physical relations with their re-created bodies. If good sex originates in the mind, then the pure soul has all the benefits without the physical inhibitors. No self-pretense is possible in the spirit world. From what I can gather, there is a loss of full tactile sensation by not being within a dense physical body having a nervous system. At any rate, in the spiritual re-creation of a human body, the lack of full sensory sensation is more than made up for by the erotic power of two minds that are completely joined.
Love is a desire for full unification with the object of that love. Spirits have the capability between lives of expressing love even more intimately than on Earth. Even so, some souls are still motivated by establishing the scenes of former lives where their love blossomed. Re- creating these scenes is meaningful to partners. After all, a major incentive for many souls to reincarnate is the pleasures of physical expression in biological form.
Animal Souls
I remember delivering a speech in downtown New York City and during the question and answer period a woman in the front row issued me the following challenge: “Do you believe cats have souls?” I responded with, “Are you a cat owner?” While the woman hesitated for a moment, a friend sitting next to her smiled and held up four fingers. Of all the animal lovers in the world who are interested in this question, I have to be most careful of those owning cats. I told the woman in Manhattan that since I have never hypnotized a cat, I can’t personally attest to cats having souls. This did not make her happy until I added that some of my clients declare they do see animals in the spirit world between their lives.
The world’s religions have long debated whether animals possess souls. Eastern religions, such as Judaism, say animal’s souls are equal to those of humans. In Judaism there are different levels of the soul, with the lowest being animals and the highest humans. Muslims hold that animals do have spirits, but those souls are not immortal because ani- mals cannot rationally choose between heaven and hell. The Christian religions reserve the eternal soul only for righteous human beings.
Pet owners who interact with their animals project much of their own spiritual energy toward these creatures, which is reciprocated in different ways depending upon the type of animal and its personality. Do these traits represent a soul? We know that animals think, but we are not sure of the degree of that thought. Dogs are protective, cats are resourceful and dolphins have complex speech patterns. Does any sort of rational thought, or the lack of it, establish a criteria for animals having souls?
Anyone who has pets will tell you that animals have individual personalities, feelings and even a sense of the needs of their owners. We know animals provide comfort during our bereavement and physical illnesses. Pets have the capacity to lift our spirits and foster healing while providing us with love and companionship without reservations.
For those people who think that animals are mere sentient beings who only have instinctual sensations, I would say that if animals have thought perceptions then they have individualized energy at some level.
My subjects report that every animal has its own particular classification of intelligent energy and human souls don’t move up and down the ladder from one form to another. These energy particles range from complex life forms, as in the case of chimps, to the simple structures. Despite the repudiation of transmigration by my subjects, perhaps all organic and inorganic matter projects vibrational energy on Earth and probably relates to one another in a purposeful way.
I have been told by clients who have had connections with a variety of animals in the spirit world that all of them do indeed have some sort of soul energy. They are not like human souls and also differ from one another. After death, the energy from these animals reportedly “exists in different spheres from that of the human soul.” To the person in trance, spheres are spaces, each having their own specific patterns and functions. I have had a number of informative reports about animal souls in the spirit world. My next case is a good example from a subject whose name is Kimoye.
Case 50
Dr. N: Kimoye, what do you like to do for recreation?
S: Frankly, 1 am a rather quiet, unsocial soul and I enjoy doing two things. I garden and play with animals during the time I am away from my group.
Dr. N: Do you actually grow things in the spirit world?
S: Creating living things from energy is one of our important exercises here.
Dr. N: Tell me about playing with the animals.
S: I have a dog and cat as well as a horse. These are my pets from the last life.
Dr. N: Do they just appear when you want them?
S: No, I must call for them as they don’t normally live in our spaces here. I can’t go to their place. An Animal Caretaker brings them to me. We call them trackers.
Dr. N: Meaning the tracker has to find your pet and not one created out of energy, as you might do with a plant in your garden?
S: Absolutely.
Dr. N: Do animals have souls, Kimoye?
S: Yes, of course they do, but in many varieties.
Dr. N: What is the difference between animal and human souls?
S: The souls of all living things have different… properties. Animal souls have smaller particles of energy … less volume and are not as complex and multifaceted as the human soul.
Dr. N: What other differences do you know about between the souls of humans and that of animals?
S: The main difference, other than size and capacity, is that animal souls are not ego-driven. They are not overwhelmed by identity issues as we are. They also accept and blend with their environment rather than fighting to control it like human beings, (stops and then adds) We can learn from them.
Dr. N: You said that animal souls had their own domain in the spirit world. How then are you able to associate with them even with the help of a Caretaker Soul?
S: (perplexed with me) They have sensory energy on Earth like us … we share their physical existence … so why not the mental… ?
Dr. N: Well, Kimoye, you did say they have a different arrangement of properties than our intelligent energy.
S: So do my plants, but I am not denied their company if I wish it.
Dr. N: You mentioned that you play with your dog. Can plant energy become dog energy?
S: No, because each form of life does have its own assortment of energy—this energy does not cross the line into another physical form on the same planet.
Dr. N: Does this mean a cat won’t transmigrate into a higher form of life and a human being will not become a lower form, say in the body of a cat, in a future life?
S: Yes, that’s right. Energy is created and assigned to certain physical and mental forms.
Dr. N: Why is that, do you think?
S: (laughs at me) I don’t know about the grand design here, except that mixing soul types is not expedient.
Dr. N: Tell me, Kimoye, do you see the animal souls of your pets in groups such as that of your own soul group?
S: Like I said, I don’t go to their places. They have no need to call for us to come to them. I can’t tell you about these areas except to say the Animal Caretaker told me there is a general division of land, air and water groups.
Dr. N: Are any connected with each other in the spirit world?
S: It is our understanding that whales, dolphins and seals are together—crows and hawks—horses and zebras—that sort of thing. Animals have their own connections with community bonding by general species that we are not supposed to understand—at least I don’t.
Dr. N: Well… ?
S: (breaks in) I guess if we needed to know we would be told.
Dr. N: Okay, now let’s go back to your original statement about playing with your pets during recreation time. Could you have a wild animal such as a wolf?
S: Only if the wolf was domesticated.
Dr. N: Can you explain this to me, Kimoye?
S: (subject frowns in concentration) The associations with animals need to be productive in certain settings for us to be motivated to work with certain life forms. My dog on Earth can be with me within my spiritual property where I built my house and garden because it is natural for him to be here. He belongs with me because we were bonded playmates. Our mutual love and respect for each other on Earth is being renewed because it is good. There is beauty in this for both of us—this must be why it is permitted.
Dr. N: Could you differentiate between the soul of a domesticated animal on Earth and one that was wild?
S: I think so. As I said, animal souls are much less complicated than human souls. The domesticated ones are able to extend love and affection to humans, which we need. The wild animal souls are not as focused in this area and don’t understand us very much at all. Most cannot be constrained—and shouldn’t be, just because we share the same environment.
Dr. N: Do you think there is more need for freedom with the wild animal?
S: Maybe, but the souls of all living things—especially us— require freedom of expression. With the domesticated animal soul, they are more willing to give up some freedom to bond with humans in exchange for love, affection and protection. There is a symmetry in having pets.
Dr. N: Kimoye, you make this sound as if domesticated animals are on Earth to serve humans.
S: It is a mutual benefit exchange, like I told you. Those of us who love animals on Earth believe we can communicate with our pets in small ways. When we return to the spirit world and see our pets again—each of us in a pure soul state—this becomes more evident.
Dr. N: Does everyone in the spirit world feel as you do about animal souls?
S: Many do not have my love for animals. I have friends here who have no wish to interact with animal energy, even some who connected with animals on Earth. They have other activities during their recreation time, (stops and then adds) This is their loss.
Animal Caretaker Souls appear to be specialists in the spirit world. It is not a popular specialty among my clients but their work is much appreciated by pet lovers. These caretakers are not considered to be zookeepers. I once asked a subject who was knowledgeable of the skills this specialty required about my old basset hound, Socrates, a much- loved family pet for fifteen years. My question was that if my soul mind could create a house and a physical body for myself between lives, could I conjure up my dog? I was told the following:
You could do this if you were advanced enough in the creation of energy. But even if you had this ability, your dog would not be quite as real as a professional could do for you. An Animal Caretaker Soul has the skill to track and find the spark of soul energy which did not die with Socrates and reconstruct your dog exactly as you knew him on Earth. Your pet will know you and be able to play with you whenever you wish and then he will go.
Apparently, Animal Caretaker specialists associated with Earth are souls who are skilled at finding and reconstructing the essence of certain lower forms of life. I think of them as creator souls who seem to have the desire and ability to maintain these forms of life for us in the spirit world because of their own love for the creatures of our planet. There can be past life karmic aspects to our associations with animals on Earth and this could be another reason why we have Animal Caretaker Souls. I have a client who is an intense animal rights activist has been devoted to the alleviation of animal suffering in all her past lives since a life in Austria in the early sixteenth century. As a young Austrian boy in that life, my client’s family was engaged in the slaughtering of cows and pigs for market, which traumatized him. Today this client calls all animals “my children.” During her life, and between lives, she spends her free time with them. She also melds with their energy in a place called the Space of Transformation, used to increase her perception of their consciousness. Kimoye essentially told me the same thing when she said in her session, “I enter this chamber,which has a field of programmed animal energy that allows me to feel what they feel. This gives me insight about animals on Earth.” For both these clients this activity represents learning as much as recreation.
The Space of Transformation
During their long apprenticeship of training, souls are able to study and practice many arts. One of these areas of instruction, which I wrote about in Journey of Souls, is a sphere of soul transformation. Many souls, both young and old, can learn much from entering this enclosure between lives. The young are introduced to certain arts here that might interest them, while the older souls can hone their existing skills further. When I describe this space to people, I use an analogy of the holodeck on a spacecraft in the Star Trek television series. While there are similarities in the concept, the Space of Transformation goes much further than being a room of simulations.
The Space of Transformation is not limited to permitting souls to get inside the energy of animals. Here the soul can become any animate or inanimate object familiar to them. In order to capture the essence of all living and even nonliving things on Earth, souls are able to meld with multiple substances. This would include fire, gas and liquids. They may also become totally amorphous in order to meld with a feeling or emo- tion to become one with that state.
I have listed the Space of Transformation under recreation because the average soul begins to use this space for the sheer enjoyment of energy shape shifting. However, many souls I have worked with prefer to engage in these exercises in actual physical settings on other worlds. This will be covered in the next chapter. As I mentioned, all these activities have the potential to go far beyond recreation for most souls. The next short case is an illustration of how the Space of Transformation tempers and strengthens the soul mind in a process of mental annealing.
Case 51
Dr. N: Why have you come to the Space of Transformation?
S: There are periods when I am away from my soul group and I wish to experience what this room has to offer. I enter the energy screens here to absorb my energy into the strata of compassion. I am drawn to this energy stream … it is part of my soul.
Dr. N: Please explain this stream of energy to me.
S: They are specific belts of purified energy. I blend with the one of compassion.
Dr. N: Who creates this particular belt for you in this space?
S: I don’t know. I enter and mentally concentrate on what I want and it is provided for me. As I practice, the more potent this energy gets, and the more benefit I receive.
Dr. N: I don’t see why it is necessary for you to come to this place to experience compassion when you can get that from going to Earth.
S: Yes, but you must understand that when I go to Earth and devote my energy to the healing of others, my energy loses much of its integrity by the end of my life. This is because 1 am inexperienced as a full-fledged healer.
Dr, N: Well, if you are here for that sort of rejuvenation, why don’t you give me a more precise example of what you do in the Space of Transformation.
S: (takes a deep breath) I can identify pain, but in order to diffuse it in the human body I assimilate it. This eventually makes me ineffective. I become a sponge rather than a mirror of light. Here I can practice my art.
S: I learn to manipulate my energy rather than absorb pain. The energy belt of compassion is like a liquid pool where I can swim and become part of the emotion in an experience which is so subjective I cannot describe it to you. It assists me in working on calmness within a sea of adversity. It is wondrous… it is… alive.
Listening to stories about the Space of Transformation gives me the impression the experience is euphoric. Whether these psychic pools of concentrated energy, which appear to transform souls for a time, are real or simulated from my frame of reference is moot. This is because while my clients see the spirit world as ultimate reality, they call this space one of altered reality. There is one constant criterion that helps me differentiate these concepts in my mind. Working models of reality which are temporary and will eventually die are illusory. The eternal world of the soul that analyzes and evaluates this process appears to my subjects as a permanent state of consciousness. The Space of Trans- formation is a creation for spiritual development.
Dancing, Music and Games
There are still people in the world living in remote settings who engage in spiritual dancing and singing that is important to their cultural life. Many years ago, I was privileged to watch and participate one night in the singing and dancing of a tribe of Lahu natives. These were Burmese hill people living deep in the mountains along the Burma-Thai border. I was with a small group of Westerners who were the first outsiders to be taken to see this particular isolated tribe. The trek was difficult, taking us through jungles and across mountain ranges. The experience was mystical.
When my subjects describe the way they express their inner being in the spirit world through dance movements combined with music, I think of the Lahu people. The Lahu are animists, who believe that all natural phenomena have souls and manifest a personal spiritual force. Many societies had these beliefs in ancient times, long before the rise of major religions. My clients explain that when groups of souls engage in this form of recreation there are elements of ritualism and a celebration of a sacred Source. As with both ancient and modern cultures on Earth, souls find this form of expression to be a means of heightening intensity. These movements evoke soul memories of their origins on Earth, other worlds and the spirit world itself.
Dancing and singing in unison brings a feeling of oneness with all thought. When my subjects describe the effects of this form of soul recreation, it is as if they feel suspended in the memory of spiritual bliss. They talk about how the sounds and rhythms of harps, lyres and chimes are an expression of their nature as a soul. The accounts of some clients remind me of my visit to the Lahu tribe when they speak of drums, flutes and dancing in a circle around a fire. One of these subjects had this to say:
We engage in the ring dance, moving in graceful, free- flowing harmony around firelight accompanied by the humming of lilting melodies. Our energy whirls in circular, changing cadences as a shift in wind of moods. For us this is an offering of the intense relationships we have for each other born from a thousand lifetimes together. We come to participate in dance and song as an affirmation of our bonds and to resonate a collective wisdom.
Another subject reported the following about dance movements in the spirit world. Initially, the object was apparently speed, then the dance changed to something else:
We start moving in a circle and then the pace accelerates faster and faster. We gather all this force, pushing it in front of us, until we look like a whirlwind with no space between. Now, the dance is gone—replaced by a cascading turbulence, which is a joining of our souls. As we slow down, the effects of unraveling energy are useful in observing our separation. At the end of this dance we have experienced the intricate differences between our vibrational energy patterns.
Some souls have described the scene above as “the tumbleweed game.” This indicates to me there is only a fine line between spiritual dancing and games, all of which have their individual interpretations. Here is another example: When we dance we change our normal pear-shaped,elongated energy to that of a curved crescent which looks like a first-quarter moon. We move toward each other from two or four directions, depending upon the number of participants. By shitting our shapes from concave to convex—back and forth—to match the soul opposite us, we can blend—spoon fashion—and separate with great speed. We stretch out and intertwine our energy while swaying in and out like a mating dance.
Soul dancing may also become a form of acrobatics as indicated by the next statement from a client:
My group especially enjoys acrobatics. We do not perform gymnastics in human form, as some of the others do. We retain our oval, or elongated shapes of pure energy. We set up an energy field resembling a kind of trampoline to be used for tumbling in relays. It includes a dance form which is too hard to describe, but it's all done with a great deal of laughter and fun. This movement during recreation draws us closer together.
I have noticed that these activities may be combined with comedy skits. Souls who engage in these forms of entertainment love to poke fun at each other. Yet I don’t hear much about souls acting in full-scale plays as pure recreation. This is because the more serious aspect of role- playing, although not lacking in humor, is so often employed during past life reviews. This is enough theater for most souls.
Other recreational activities, such as art and composition, are pursued quietly and individually. The practice of music and sculpture may be pursued alone or collectively. Sculpting energy to design structural objects and the creation of small life forms is not really considered recreational. They represent an integral part of task-oriented classroom instruction although, as we have seen, these activities can be overlapped with leisure time. Music is in a special category all its own as far as almost universal soul appeal. Unlike Earth, where so many of us are unable to learn to play a musical instrument or sing, as souls we seem to be able to engage in these activities effortlessly. Melodic sounds are often heard throughout the spirit world by my subjects in spaces that are not recreational. Within the context of R & R, music is enjoyed by souls directly or interwoven into subtle frameworks for drama, dancing and even games.
From my research, I have come to believe that more than any other medium, music uplifts the soul with ranges of notes far beyond what we know on Earth. There seems to be no limit to the sounds used in the creation of music in the spirit world. People in deep hypnosis explainbthat musical thought is the language of souls. The composition and transmission of harmonic resonance appears to relate to the formation and presentation of spiritual language. Far beyond musical communication, I’m told spiritual harmonics are the building blocks of energy creation and soul unification.
Many souls enjoy singing in the spirit world but it took me years to find a soul who is a Musical Director. My next case is a subject who has had a multitude of past lives where he was connected to music in one form or another. In his last life he was an Italian opera singer in the 1930s.
Case 52 Dr. N: What is your major recreational activity in the spirit world? S: To create music. Dr. N: You mean with musical instruments?
S: Oh, there is always that—you can pull any instrument out of thin air and play it. But, for me, there is nothing more satisfying than creating a choir. The voice is the most beautiful of musical instruments.
Dr. N: Look, you don’t have the vocal chords of an opera star any longer, so… ?
S: (laughs at me) Has it been that long since you were a spirit? No human body is needed. In fact, the sounds we create are lighter and of much greater range than those on Earth.
Dr. N: Can everyone sing the high and low notes?
S: (with enthusiasm) Of course they can. We all have the ability to be sopranos and baritones at the same time. My people can hit high and low notes and everyone is always on pitch—they just need a director.
Dr. N: Could you describe what you do?
S: (quietly, without boastfulness) 1 am a Musical Director of souls. A singing conductor—it is my passion—my skill—my pleasure to give to others.
Dr. N: Are you better at this than other souls because of your musical talent in your past life as an opera singer?
S: Oh, I suppose that one follows the other, but not everyone is as focused on music as I am. Some souls in musical groups may not be paying attention to the entire score, (smiles) Because of the musical range possessed by souls, they need a director to keep all these virtuosos on track. After all, this is recreation for them. They want to have fun as well as produce beautiful music.
Dr. N: So, you enjoy working with choirs rather than an orchestra?
S: Yes, but we mix it up to make the singing come together. When spirits apply themselves to instruments and voice sounds, it’s wonderful. It’s not stray notes. The harmonic meshing of musical energy reverberates throughout the spirit world with indescribable sounds.
Dr. N: Then all this is vastly different from working with a choir on Earth? S: There are similarities, but here you have so much talent because every soul has the capability for perfection of musical sound. There is high motivation. Souls love this form of recreation, especially if they wanted to be able to sing on Earth but sounded like frogs.
Dr. N: Do you bring souls from groups other than your own to be in this heavenly choir?
S: Yes, but lots of groups like to sing opposite each other and see who can be the most innovative.
Dr. N: If you were to look into the deeper motivations for souls, can you help me understand why music is so important for them in the spirit world?
S: It takes you to new mental levels … moving your energy … communicating in unison with large numbers of other souls.
Dr. N: How large a choral group do you direct?
S: I am partial to small groups of around twenty, although there are hundreds of souls from many groups who are available for me to direct.
Dr. N: Large groups must be a great challenge for you?
S: (taking a deep breath) Their range is staggering… vibrations pouring out in many directions … everyone hitting incredibly high and low notes without warning while I am struggling with their cues … and yet it’s all pure rapture.
I will finish this section on recreation with a list of the most popular games souls play in the spirit world. One of my reasons for presenting the lighter side of soul socialization is to exemplify the differences between group study time and that of recreation. I have previously dis- cussed the clannishness and rather insular attitudes of some soul groups. I do not wish my readers to assume this is a representation of the “outsider-insider” mentality that we so often see in cultural groups on Earth. There is no jealousy, mistrust or prejudice between spirit groups. While the younger souls are conditioned to be centered on their own training groups, this does not mean these souls see themselves as being all that different from other groups. Xenophobia does not exist in the spirit world. The information I have about how spirits from many groups play games together is one way I have of demonstrating the nature of soul behavior.
Nevertheless, at my lectures, I do feel the necessity of being cautious in offering too many details about spiritual games. There are people who believe matters of life after death are far too serious for such frivolities. A few have even commented that my speaking about recreation detracts from the rest of what I have to say about soul life. Despite these criticisms, I consider it more important that the public is aware the afterlife is not so dreadfully serious that souls cannot have fun.
The spiritual games I have encountered are never strictly enforced by monitors nor directed by team captains. In fact, the “rules” are loosely interpreted. There are elements of playful competition but without the emotional aggression one sees in sports on Earth. Spiritual games are not played with the objective that somebody wins while others lose. Games are vigorous and carefree at the same time. Our guides encourage game participation as a means of practicing energy movement, dexterity and group thought transmission. On the other hand, I have had subjects whose groups do not participate in games in the spirit world. Their separateness is always respected. This is especially true with the more advanced souls who are so engaged in other forms of energy training that game playing would be a detraction.
There is a remarkable consistency to game descriptions by subjects in hypnosis. While we can take the memory of a game with us to the spirit world, it is my belief that certain games with origins in the afterlife are brought to Earth and modified from unconscious memory for use in a physical body. The reader can be the judge of the most likely game origins from the following quotes. I will start my list of a few popular games with what appears to be a form of tag:
We chase around, trying to catch each other by flowing fast in straight lines and then maintaining that speed when turning sharply. The more maneuverable spirits are able to double back, stop and start again quickly without getting caught.
Simple interpretations of tag and other games may be combined with music and dancing. In these versions, especially with the young, souls will chase each other into areas that have been defined as personal playgrounds:
I love the meadows with trees to climb and tall grass where we can roll around chasing after each other and playing leapfrog. We can also shape shift into objects to make our games more interesting.
There is a game I hear quite a bit about which reminds me of a kind of dodgeball, where large numbers of souls line up opposite each other and throw bolts of energy. One can also recognize elements of keep- away and volleyball in the descriptions of this game called bolt-banging, which requires quick position adjustments and dexterity:
In our game of bolt-banging, we line up in two long lines opposite each other. We create balls of energy and throw them high ewer an imaginary line or fire them in straight or low trajectories at the opposing players. We must stay in a confined area to exchange bolts without slowing our momentum. At first it's easy to get out of the way while making your own bolts at the same time. Then the tempo increases and our play area looks like a hailstorm. When our bolts are flying around, they can be dodged, or caught and thrown back. The object is not to be inadvertently hit by a bolt. A player who is zapped is not out—he just tries harder to be more agile. We feel the complexities of each soul carried in the bolts which hit us.
Another high-velocity game is something akin to red rover, or per- haps bumper cars, where souls line up opposite each other in a square. Instead of sending one player over at a time to try and break through a chain of arms, as in red rover, these souls rush at each other en masse. One subject said, “This is a game of collision, where we bounce off one another in a chain reaction of whirling energy.” The object seems to be the creation of a high volume of concentrated energy. Another client who plays this game told me:
The energy flow from all of us is pooled so that each player receives a heightened awareness from all the other souls. It's an exhilarating game. There is a magnification of all our energy which is unified. Eventually, when the energy charge lessens, we all settle down and engage in a kind of folk dance.
There are many subtle games that my subjects have difficulty in describing to me. One I have heard about from a number of people, however, has the name of gemball. The game is a little like marbles and lawn bowling combined with the symbolism of gemstones, which I reviewed in chapter 6. From case 53, it can be seen how displaying colored energy objects, as embodiments of personal character, need not be limited to our appearances at the Council of Elders.
Case 53
Dr. N: Do all groups have some interest in playing games?
S: Not at all. My group is fun-loving and we don’t like to be tied down in classrooms too much. Some of the others find us a bit wild and undisciplined. There are four souls in our group who are not so playful so we cherry pick from other groups to make up our teams.
Dr. N: Is it true that souls can bring all the games they enjoyed on Earth to the spirit world?
S: (hesitates) Well, yes… but you don’t see them all…
Dr. N: Why not? Give me some examples of games you don’t see.
S: I don’t see golf because it is too self-centered, you are mostly playing against yourself. Tennis is a little better but I don’t see that either because only two people play and that is limiting.
Dr. N: Does this mean football is popular in the spirit world?
S: Mmm … not really. We don’t play games with stars like quarter- backs and team captains. Football is too uneven a game, with wide variations in positions. Soccer would be better. It’s hard to explain. We enjoy group games with lots of souls where everyone has an equal position and is engaged in the same way … in their movements.
Dr. N: I enjoy swimming, so I suppose you wouldn’t see that either?
S: (laughing) Then you’d be wrong. If you didn’t want to go to Earth for this as a spirit you could create a semblance of water here—or a golf course—whatever you require to bring back happy memories. But if you want other souls to participate with you in games of sport, then that’s more of a collective matter.
Dr. N: So, you see a difference between individual and group recreational activity?
S: Yes, I do.
Dr. N: All right, then tell me about a game which is not like the sports games we have been talking about, one perhaps which is not so robust and carefree even though it might still be considered as recreation.
S: (wistfully) Oh … that’s easy, it’s the gemball game. Many souls come to a space where we sit in a great circle. Then each of us creates an energy ball the size of a tennis ball, which looks like a crystalline gemstone.
Dr. N: Do the balls have any particular meaning?
S: Of course, the energy colors represent individual expression. Dr. N: Okay, what happens next in this game?
S: Each person holds their ball until someone says, “GO!” Then, we all gently push our balls to the center of the ring.
Dr. N: Do they all bang against each other, as in marbles?
S: I guess… in a way. The gemballs carom off each other with radiating colors splashing in all directions … but they don’t quite stop … we keep them moving.
Dr. N: I’m not sure I understand … (subject breaks in and continues)
S: Finally, one comes to you. During each series of play, a corresponding player will receive my ball if there is a magnetic attraction.
Dr. N: What if you don’t receive a ball from another player?
S: It happens quite often. We play rounds with large groups of different players—eventually a ball will roll into my lap.
Dr. N: Do two players have to receive a ball from each other?
S: No, gemball is not a programmed game. Anything can happen. Dr. N: What does receiving a ball from someone else mean?
S: This tells you that you might be linked to the owner in some fashion. Gemball is an intimate game of expectation and trust because you never know where your ball is going or what you will receive back.
Dr. N: After you receive a ball, then what do you do?
S: (laughs) You pick up the ball that comes to you in the palms of your hands. The gemball gives you the means to learn about the private aspects of a soul which could relate to you in a special way. I have made many future life decisions to be with certain people based upon this game.
During my early research, I had no idea of the many ramifications of spiritual games. They all have their own distinctions that give pleasure. As I became knowledgeable with spiritual recreation, my subjects felt more comfortable in providing me with details about their favorite pas- times. I learned that certain games appeal to the particular character of the souls who play them. Eventually, 1 realized some games could esca- late into training exercises and that individual souls from many groups gravitated to this activity. One game stands out in my mind in this respect.
I find the hide-and-seek game to have significant implications for future traveler souls whom I will be discussing in the next chapter. The execution of this game offers a variety ol proficiency levels in teaching spatial frames of reference to interested souls. 1 began to take notice of this particular game after 1 heard about the appearance of coaches when the game became more complex. My clients call them the Game- keepers. These are the specialist trainers who will expose those adventuresome beings who show talent to trips into different dimensions.
Here is a quote from a highly advanced soul who wishes to specialize as a traveler:
Hide-and-seek in the spirit world begins as an exercise between light and darkness. With the younger souls we charge up our energy from a distance and then wink it out when the kids come in our direction. We block and then open up our telepathic energy at the same time to mix up the visual and mental signals. In the beginning we create doorways of light within structured columns of energy which are employed as shadowed panels which may be arranged in parallel or horizontal lines. Later we make them random geometric patterns. Most young ones have a terrible time learning to detect and find us as we dart between the doorways, but they have fun because at this stage they still consider this playing a game.
Some become so good we can't trick them anymore. In time these souls—those that want to continue— become trainees and are ready to be ushered into our playground of interdimensional zones, which are divided by energy barriers and vibrational pulse rates. This is tough because the trainees must learn to adapt to different wave configurations which exist within each dimension and match their energy quickly to pass through. We lose many souls at this point who don't wish to continue. The work is like being in a hall of mirrors. The souls like me, who refuse to quit because we love the work, must now master the mental dimensions without structure or form. They exist as vacuums between the physical dimensions. Part of me still considers this training as recreation. It is so captivating I can't wait to get back home and engage in this exercise again with my friends.
Four General Types of Souls
Before moving on to a discussion of the more advanced souls in the next chapter, 1 should list the major types of souls 1 have encountered within the community of spiritual life. There must be many more than these four categories of souls, however, I am limited by the memories of my clients concerning other possible soul types in the spirit world.
Souls who are either unable or unwilling to function individually. These souls usually work within collectives and never seem to leave the spirit world. Even so, I am told all souls are given the opportunity to experiment with existing in both physical and mental universes.
Souls who do not wish to incarnate in physical form. Also, they may not possess the requisite properties of light energy to engage in this activity. They seem to work only in mental worlds and appear to move easily between different dimensions. Most of their talents are beyond the comprehension of my clients.
Souls who incarnate only on physical worlds. I sense that some have the capability for training in mental spheres between lives, but are not inclined to do so. They are not attracted to interdi-mensional travel, even during recreation. Quite a number of my clients are in this category.
Souls who have both the ability and desire to function in all types of physical and mental environments. This does not necessarily give them more enlightenment than other soul types. Yet, their wide range of practical experience and capabilities position them formany specialization opportunities involving varied assignments of responsibility.
The Advancing Soul
Graduation
There comes that time in a soul’s existence when it is ready to move away from its primary soul group. My next case comes from a soul who recently attained level III after thousands of years of incarnating on Earth. This subject became very excited by the images in her mind of this recent event in the spirit world. The symbolic descriptions involving analogies to educational settings by now are very familiar to the reader. In her current life she is a teacher of children with learning disabilities.
Case 54
Dr. N: You seem very blissful about appearing in front of your council.
S: Yes, I have scrubbed off the last of my body armor.
Dr. N: Body armor?
S: Yes, my protective armor—to avoid being hurt. It took me centuries to learn to trust and be open with people inclined to hurt me as an outgrowth of their own anger. This was my last major hurdle.
Dr. N: Why was this so difficult for you?
S: I identified too much with my emotions rather than my spiritual strength. This created self-doubt in my relations with others whom I perceived to be stronger and more knowledgeable than myself—but they were not.
Dr. N: If this last major hurdle involved self-identity, how do you see yourself at present?
S: Finally, I used a rope of flowers to swing over the abyss of pain and hurt. I no longer give away too much of my energy unnecessarily, (pause) Physical and mental hardship has to do with self-definition. In the last 1,000 years, I have improved upon maintaining my identity in each life … under adverse circumstances, and to honor myself as a human being who could not be superseded by others. I no longer need body armor to achieve this.
Dr. N: What does your council say to you about your positive actions involving self-definition?
S: They are satisfied that I have passed this difficult test—that I did not let the adverse circumstances of these many lives dictate my vision of myself—who I really am. They are very pleased that I have reached a higher level of my potential through patience and diligence.
Dr. N: Why do you think you had to go through so much in your lives on Earth?
S: How can I teach others unless I have gone through fire myself to become strong?
Dr. N: Well… (subject interrupts me with something which has appeared in her mind as a result of my last question)
S: Oh … they have a surprise for me. Oh, I’m so HAPPY!
Note: At this moment my subject breaks down with tears of joy and anticipation of the scene unfolding in her mind. I pull out my trusty box of tissues and we continue.
Dr. N: Move forward and tell me what the surprise is all about.
S: (bubbling) It’s graduation time! We are gathering in the temple. Aru, my guide, is here along with the chairman of my council. Master teachers and students are assembling from everywhere.
Dr. N: Can you break this down a little for me? How many teachers and students do you see?
S: (hurriedly) Ah … some twelve teachers and … maybe forty students.
Dr. N: Are some of the students from your own primary group?
S: (pause) There are three of us. Students have been brought from other groups who are ready. I don’t know most of them.
Dr. N: I notice some hesitation on your part. Where are the others of your own group?
S: (with regret) They are not yet ready.
Dr. N: What is the core color of all these students around you?
S: Bright, solid yellow. Oh, you have no idea how long it has taken us to arrive here.
Dr. N: Perhaps I do. Why don’t you describe the proceedings for me?
S: (takes a deep breath) Everyone is in a festive mood, like a coming-out party. We all line up and float in … and I’m going to sit up front. Aru is smiling proudly at me. A few words are spoken by the masters who acknowledge how hard we have worked. Then our names are called.
Dr. N: Individually?
S: Yes… I hear my name, “Iri”… I float forward to receive a scroll with my name printed on the front.
Dr. N: What else do these scrolls have on them?
S: (modestly) It’s rather private … about those achievements which took me the longest… and how I overcame them.
Dr. N: So, in a way, this is more than a diploma. It’s a testimonial record of your work.
S: (softly) Yes.
Dr. N: Is everyone wearing cap and gowns?
S: (quickly) No! (then smiling) Oh … I see … you are teasing me.
Dr. N: Well, maybe a little. Tell me, Iri, what takes place after the ceremonies?
S: We gather around to talk about our new assignments and I have the opportunity to meet with some of the souls who are in my specialty area. We will meet again in new classes that will make the best use of our abilities.
Dr. N: What will be your first assignment, Iri?
S: I will be nurturing the youngest souls. It’s as if we will be raising flowers from the seedlings. You feed them with tenderness and understanding.
Dr. N: And where do you think these newer souls come from?
S: (pause) From the divine egg—the womb of creation—spun out like silken thread … and then taken to the nursery mothers … and then to us. It’s very exciting. The responsibility will be so challenging.
Movement to the Intermediate Levels
When I work with a subject who is transitioning into a level III group, there may be some initial confusion as to why they see themselves leaving and returning to their primary cluster group on a regular basis. During hypnosis, not everyone is able to see a scene in their mind and then quickly integrate this frame into the entire movie of their spiritual life. The task of a facilitator is to proceed slowly and let the scene unfold naturally. A client who had not yet graduated from his group but had begun the process of pulling away told me, “I am starting to feel a little cut off from my family. There are new souls around mc that I have not worked with before.”
The integrity of a soul’s original cluster group remains intact in a timeless way. Regardless of who is graduating, they never lose their bond to old companions. Primary cluster groups began their existence together and remain closely associated through hundreds of incarna- tions. I have had souls who were with their primary groups for some 50,000 years before they were ready to move on to the intermediate levels, while a much smaller percentage have achieved this state of development within 5,000 years. Once reaching level III, I find that souls begin to rise much more rapidly into the advanced levels. Souls develop at different rates while displaying a variety of talents along the way. I notice that when souls start to spend less time in recreation and socializing they are working harder and becoming more focused on perfecting certain skills that will contribute to the forces of cosmic consciousness.
With the attaining of level III there is a change in soul behavior. These souls have now begun to expand their vistas away from their primary groups. The advancing souls don’t disregard all they have known before, it’s just that they are now so engrossed in their training it has become an all-consuming goal. These souls are fascinated by what they can do and want to become even more proficient. By the time they approach a level IV range of development, the transition is complete.
In the course of their transition, recent level Ills soon recognize that they are no longer limited to one classroom. Their old friends are aware of what is going on, but it seems to be mutually understood that not too many questions should be asked about these absences. I refer readers back to the experience of the soul Lavani in case 32. The transition is a slow one, in keeping with the practice of infinite care that is so evidentin all spiritual training. The assignments to new specialty groups are formed with other like-minded souls based upon a number of considerations. The three principal elements I am most aware of for soul specialty selection are talent, past performance and personal desire. I would expect needs of the spirit world to be another important element, but this information is denied me.
I suppose it could be said that when a soul is elevated into the inter- mediate levels of training they are being initiated into a guild of sorts. However, I would not equate this with the historic craft guilds of the Middle Ages, which were called Mystery Schools of training. These were exclusive and rather secret organizations for members only. Although there are elements of privacy accorded to souls selected for specialized training, it is by no means elitist. Aspiring new arrivals are always welcomed to groups of specialists.
These assemblages of more specialized souls are rather loosely knit at first. I have defined them as independent study groups. The training begins slowly on a periodic basis with different specialized teachers. This allows for an evaluation period for souls by their trainers. Souls who are testing the waters may leave these specialty groups while other promising candidates can be added. This practice is in opposition to the formation of long-term primary soul groups. The instruction becomes more intense as these new groups demonstrate they can handle assignments. In these early stages, while souls are being weaned from their original groups, they still retain their regular guides and attend primary group functions. Independent study has a greater emphasis on self-direction by the soul in their tasks, which becomes even more pronounced as they develop into level IV and V proficiency.
A number of soul specializations have been listed in preceding chap- ters. In order of presentation, they have been described as the Dream- masters, Redeemers of Lost Souls, Keepers of Neutrality, Restoration Masters, Incubator Mothers, Archivist Souls, Animal Caretaker Souls, Musical Directors, and Gamekeepers. There seems to be an overlapping of certain specialties. For instance, Gamekeepers who train others in travel may also be Explorer Souls for new sites useful in R & R and the more serious planetary aspects of energy training. In this chapter, I will cite further examples of soul specialties. I am sure readers will recognize what specialty area might fit their own inclinations.
There does not appear to be a certain path that would ultimately lead souls to a seat on a council. The Elders seem to come from a back- ground of many specializations. I think most people feel the teacher- guides probably have an inside track to such positions. Of course, it is natural guides would appear to the average client to be the premier profession. Yet I know this perception is colored by the fact that while all my subjects have guides, many have little contact with advancedsouls in other specialties. I can only imagine what other specializations souls are offered that no subject is able to describe.
When I discuss the topic of specialty areas during my lectures, a lot of people say they thought all souls were being groomed to be teacher- guides. I had the same idea in the early phases of my research. Event ally, I learned that while teaching is a leading specialty in the spirit world, this does not mean that most souls make great teachers. Because teaching is so vital to souls, I will begin with a category of this field I haven’t covered before.
Specializations
Nursery Teachers
In Journey of Souls I discussed the activities of junior and senior teaching guides, and my subjects have documented the activities of their guides in this book. However, not much information has been offered about advanced souls who are brand-new teachers in training. They are called the Nursery Teachers, or caretakers of children, because the young souls they work with have not yet begun their incarnations.
Following case 26 in chapter 5,1 quoted the recent memories of a very young soul on Earth who explained that once a new soul is created they are not immediately thrown into a physical incarnation. Earth is such a difficult school for training it is best that many new souls are allowed time in adjusting to planetary life as discarnates. This is illustrated by the following report from a subject:
I remember when I was a very young soul and came to Earth for the first time with a couple of friends. As spirits we floated around to check our capacity and adaptability to this place while accompanied by our teacher. We were shown how to collect the magnetic vibrations of this planet and blend them with our own. We needed to feel what it would take for us to be in physical form here.
It is my belief a large majority of my clients are inclined toward teacher training to be guides. This is because they venerate their own guides, who have such a strong influence on their current development, and wish to emulate them. Of course, a soul’s current aspirations and eventual specialization assignments may not coincide. Teachers must be good communicators. Yet a skilled communicator who is able to motivate, for example, might not have the ability to work with a soul mind trying to integrate with many human egos in all their host bodies.
Nursery Teachers who work with very young souls may not choose to become guides for the general population of souls for many reasons. Working with the child soul is challenging because many young soulsdo not seem to be able to move on with their reincarnations and will require remedial studies. Case 28 told us something about the spiritual setting of teachers and the elementary souls, which 1 will expand upon in case 55.
I have to keep on my toes with advanced clients, and questioning them about soul colors in their descriptions of settings is a big help. The man in case 55 is entering a level IV proficiency and had just finished telling me about the variety of yellow-blue lights in his own specialty group composed of three souls. I was ready to move on to something else when I thought of one more question, which opened up a whole new line of inquiry.
Case 55
Dr. N: Is that all the colors you see in this vicinity?
S: No, there are eleven kids—white lights—bunched together off to the left of us. Their energy is smaller, with a shorter energy pattern, and rather scattered. The young ones are very exuberant.
Note: At this point my subject became very excited when he recognized one of these souls as his child today. I let him enjoy this moment and then we continued.
Dr. N: Do you see any differences in light intensity from these eleven souls?
S: Not much. The very innocent and timid kids have dim lights. We don’t have one of those right now.
Dr. N: What relationship do you have with these eleven souls?
S: I’m being assisted in their training by two colleagues whom I haven’t known for very long because they come from other groups.
Dr. N: Did the three of you have a common background on Earth to prepare you for this initial teaching assignment?
S: Well, we were teachers, holy men, healers … that kind of thing in our past lives. One must have sensitivity and great patience tor this sort of work, (stops, then adds as an afterthought) You know, teachers can learn from students.
Dr. N: I’m sure that’s true. Why don’t you give me a sense of where you and these children are right now in the spirit world.
S: We are sent to neutral areas for training because it would be too inhibiting for these kids to be near the regular teaching classrooms.
Dr. N: What’s going on at the moment?
S: (laughs) They are whizzing about in all directions, more interested in pulling pranks on each other than learning anything. Things will change when they start to incarnate.
My next quote is a condensation from the case of a woman who is working with souls that have just begun to incarnate:
I have my hands full right now with seven goof-offs. They like being playboys and playgirls during their incarnations. They just want to stay as children and not take life seriously. They are overly fond of earthly pleasures and don’t want to deal with the hard stuff. Their major interest is looking beautiful in the next life. Ulant, my senior guide, has left them with me and I don’t see him very much. I’ll admit my style is extremely lenient. I use lots of gentleness and love. Some of the other teachers say I spoil them outrageously. I know of teachers who express a lot of frustration and become stern with their young students, especially those with potential. The council is interested in my teaching methods. They want to test my theories of permissiveness rather than giving this class a mental spanking. My concept of teaching is that once these child souls do start to develop, the leap they will take into maturity will be more rapid because they won’t have had their self-confidence shaken by too many hard lessons and setbacks too soon.
Ethicists
For a long time I considered the instruction of ethics to be part of all teaching rather than a specialty by itself. The next case is that of a twenty-six-year-old man from Detroit, a level V, whose spiritual name is Andarado. Initially, I tried to dissuade him from coming to see me. I normally do not take clients under the age of thirty. This is because 1 don’t think the average young person has passed that many major forks in the road of life. Their amnesia blocks may be too firmly in place. There is also the increased possibility of obstructions by their spirit guides during hypnosis who might feel it is too early for theirstudent to see certain karmic pathways. Andarado was an exception and I’m glad he overruled my concerns.
This client had sent me a letter stating, “I am anxious to experience my immortal identity because I have long felt I know things and have skills beyond what I should for my age.” I hear these declarations from many young people and, more often than not, their stage of develop- ment is not what they imagined after a session with me. This was not true with this client. When 1 met Andarado, I was struck by his inten- sity, alertness and self-containment, which I found unusual for someone his age.
As his session progressed, I found that Andarado first came to Earth during the rise of Babylon, which I thought was rather late in Earth time for a blue light. He told me his incarnations began on a dark, quiet world with intelligent, although unemotional, life forms who were dying as a race. This was a world devoted to reason and logic. Eventu- ally, Andarado asked for a transfer to a brighter world where he could incarnate into a more sensitive being. He was given Earth.
While reviewing his past experiences in a spiritual classroom, I learned of Andarado’s interest in how planetary magnetic energy affects intelligent behavior on certain worlds. His latest assignment was creating brain tissue for a small feline creature. Andarado explained, “I set up a lattice of energy to screen and study patterns of behavior responses. I have to be careful not to hook up a 12-volt battery into a 6- volt system.” I assumed he was studying to be a Master of Design. I was in for a surprise.
Case 56
Dr. N: Andarado, we have talked about your work in the spirit world with teaching students. You have also explained a little about your energy creation studies with the thought processes of lower forms of life. This leads me to conclude you are preparing to be a specialist in either teaching or design.
S: (laughs) Neither is true. I am training to be an Ethicist.
Dr. N: Oh? How about these two areas of your early studies we have just talked about?
S: They have been offered to me as prerequisites so I will be more effective as an Ethicist. This is my passion, working with the moral codes of intelligent beings.
Dr. N: But isn’t the reviewing of morality, values and the standards of conduct basic to the work of all teaching guides?
S: Yes, but moral principles as they relate to objective values are so essential to human development one can specialize in that field. There is usually an Ethicist on every council.
Dr. N: Why did you spend so much time on another world before coming to Earth?
S: Being versed in the morality of other intelligent societies is good training for any Ethicist.
Dr. N: Okay, Andarado, tell me—how many student souls from Earth did they give you when you began working between lives on your true vocation?
S: Only a couple at first.
Dr. N: 1 suppose they were very young souls?
S: Yes, but then that changed and I now have eighteen middle-level souls.
Dr. N: Why are you allowed to be working with level Ills when you have not finished incarnating on Earth yourself?
S: This is exactly the reason for my current assignment. I’m not experienced enough to be helping the very troubled, less-developed souls. Because I am still unseasoned, they don’t give me the really difficult cases. I can give advice to souls with more maturity because I was in their shoes not so long ago.
Dr. N: Do you work with your students both in the spirit world and while they are on Earth?
S: (firmly) Not during the periods when they are incarnating on Earth. That is the prerogative of their teaching guides. I work with them only in the spirit world.
Dr. N: How do you see ethics as a test for human society?
S: Primarily because it is so easy for human beings to drift away from moral behavior and to rationalize their actions.
Dr. N: Would you say this is because the average person is pragmatic in believing the end justifies the means in being perceived as individually successful?
S: Yes, and this appears to people to be in opposition to universalism.
Dr. N: Do you see any resolution in the conflict between universalism and rugged individualism in human attitudes?
S: Working for world betterment would eventually do away with intolerance against those who are different from us. The need for personal status and elitism is the conflict because it is equated with happiness.
Dr. N: So you see our dilemma as the conflict between placing a desire for personal happiness and individual goals above the alleviation of suffering among the human population?
S: For many on this planet that is the dilemma of selfishness.
Dr. N: Could you take this a bit further? Are you saying that humans by nature are not a race of egalitarian and charitable people?
S: The average human has this dilemma, although many do not think being self-centered is a problem for them. This is the great test for coming to Earth and why my work is so difficult here. The lesson of Earth, as far as morality and ethics are concerned, is for the soul to be encased in the body of a being whose instincts—whose very nature—cry out for personal survival. The plight of others is secondary.
Dr. N: You do not find a natural good in humans which is linked to the conscience of a soul?
S: Of course, that is a major part of my specialty, to develop this element of goodness so that eventually it will be a natural reaction to difficult circumstances on Earth.
Dr. N: Does the need for self-reliance have to be in opposition to a consideration for others on this planet?
S: Personal ideals and values can result in general happiness for society as a whole, if we become fully engaged with the righteousness of the soul mind as the core power of Self.
Dr. N: What is the most helpful advice you give your students before they come back to Earth?
S: (grins) They are like race horses, so I caution them to be patient and pace themselves. The energy that goes into controlling the human body must be parceled out carefully. They are at the stage of learning the fine balance of ethical behavior. When they live in a physical world as dense as Earth, they must guard against being absorbed by it in order to be effective.
After I finished with this client, I reflected on how many physiologists believe the human sensory system is overdeveloped as an outgrowth of our primitive origins. Aggression and avoidance behavior has been a means of survival for humans since the Stone Age. In our evolutionary process, we have a brain which does not yet have complete control over our bodily responses. Under high emotional stress, we tend to lose rationality. Jung tells us, “The rational and irrational exist side by side and healthy people recognize the workings of both forces within themselves. We should look to our mental neuroses and physical ailments as unconscious value patterns.”
Most of us start off making a lot of dumb mistakes and by the end of our life we become smarter. The idea of coming back in repeated incarnations is that eventually we will get it right early on and lead productive lives from the beginning. In this quest we are often ego- driven and we forget that what is good for us is generally good for other people. Unfortunately the philosopher Kant was right when he said, “If we believe in the immortality of the soul created by a divine
source, this presupposes free will which may not include moral behavior.”
There is a great need for Ethicist Souls. It can be said that there are reasons for the actions of some people turning out badly because of an underdeveloped soul co-existing with a disturbed human brain. Because of these conditions, our free will toward making good choices could be more inhibited. 1 have tried to show that in the spirit world souls do not use this argument as a valid excuse for the lack of control over emotions in a host body.
The solution for all of us to improve is staying with the process of continuing evolution to become better than we are. Our spirit guides were once just like us before they attained their current status. We are given many host bodies and all of them are imperfect. Rather than being obsessive about a body which will only last one lifetime, concen- trate on the evolution of your soul Self and rely on your spiritual power. As we do this our capability for connecting with others will evolve and eventually cut through the dilemma of moral distinctions that were articulated by the soul Andarado.
Hartmonizer Souls
This specialty represents a broad classification of souls with many sub- groups. Nevertheless, while I access the minds of so many people, I do see an interdependence and connection behind all soul specialties. Souls in the general category of Harmonizers often incarnate as communicators working in a variety of capacities. When they are discarnated beings, I am told they work as restorers of disrupted energy on the face of the Earth. Incarnating Harmonizer Souls might be states- men, prophets, inspirational messengers, negotiators, artists, musicians and writers. Typically, they are souls who balance the energy of planetary events involving human relationships. They may be public or private figures who operate behind the stage of world events. These souls are not healers in the traditional mode of working with individuals because Harmonizers function on a larger scale in attempting to diffuse negative energy.
In my first book, I wrote about the Sages, who are highly advanced souls that are still incarnating on Earth even though it is unnecessary for their own personal development. I am told they are skilled linguists with the ability to phrase words in vibrational tones that deeply touch people. These wise beings are here because it is their mission to help humanity in a direct physical way. They are unobtrusive and may wish for no public attention. Erom what I can gather, they are not large in number. These highly evolved old souls among us are considered to be active observers of events. They report on human trends that they feel require special attention. For this reason, I place them under Harmonizer Souls.
It is evident to my subjects that the Sages are somehow connected to another group of Harmonizer specialists in the spirit world whom they call the Watchers. These beings do not incarnate but receive information from many sources about conditions on Earth and other worlds as well. I have precious little data about them. What I do have comes from a few clients who know of them only through their own training to be Harmonizer Souls. Presumably, a Watcher provides information to other Harmonizers, who will act to moderate the affects of social and physical forces creating havoc on Earth. The case which follows is from a level V called Larian who is in training to be a Harmonizer.
Case 57
Dr. N: Larian, could you explain something about being in the specialty of harmonizing and what you do?
S: I am a raw recruit, but I will try. I am learning about harmonizing Earth’s discordant energy to help people.
Dr. N: Do you mean with the geophysical elements of Earth, such as high winds, fire, earthquakes—that sort of thing?
S: I have friends in that pursuit, but this is not my area of study.
Dr. N: Well all right, then—before we get to your tasks, what are your friends learning?
S: These planetary restorers soften the destructive aftermath of natural physical forces, which cause large amounts of negative energy.
Dr. N: Why don’t the powers that exist in the spirit world just prevent these natural disasters from happening in the first place and save people a lot of grief?
S: (shakes head) Then they wouldn’t be natural catastrophes, which are intended to be part of the conditions of life on Earth. A planetary harmonizer would not interfere with these forces, even if they had the capability—which I don’t think they do.
Dr. N: Then what is their function?
S: Spread the seeds of coherent energy into the disturbed, to neutralize large concentrations of negative energy. They work with polarity and magnetic force to assist in human recovery, (grins) We call them the vacuum cleaners.
Dr. N: Okay, Larian, where does your own work fit into the scheme of things?
S: I hope to make a contribution with catastrophic events directly created by people.
Dr. N: How many other trainees are in your section?
S: Four.
Dr. N: Do you and your associates plan to stop wars?
S: (perturbed) I don’t think I am getting across to you. Our training is not designed to tamper with the minds of people who cause human suffering.
Dr. N: Why not? Are you saying as a Harmonizer Soul you would not want to intercede in some way with a Hitlerian psychopath bent on destruction?
S: The mind of the psychopath is closed to reason. I am in training to maintain positive energy around calmer heads who can make a difference in world events.
Dr. N: Isn’t that tampering with free will, cause and effect, and the whole issue of natural karmic influences?
S: (pause) The conditions are already in place for the unfolding of cause and effect. We wish to allow for more rational thinking by sending waves of positive energy to the right people. We do not orchestrate resolutions. We offer a quiet atmosphere for dialogue.
Dr. N: You know, Larian, it seems to me you are fence-straddling between tampering and not doing so.
S: Then I am not getting through to you. Maybe if I explain more what I am doing at present you will see the difference. I am learning to adjust my energy beam to diffuse and rearrange the forces of negative human energy generated each day on Earth. It is like opening a dam to provide needed water to make the valley below fertile.
Dr. N: I don’t know if I am convinced yet, but please continue.
S: (patiently) I go to a huge dome to practice with my small group. Arlett is there, she is our instructor—very accomplished— catches our mistakes at once. It is here we practice the art of balancing vibrational disharmony. Eventually, we hope to smooth out large masses of disruptive energy patterns on Earth.
Dr. N: What happens in the dome?
S: It provides a geometric base for certain oscillations and intervals to simulate erratic waves of human thought from large groups. It is deliberately stirred up for us. We are supposed to smooth it out.
Dr. N: Mmm … to foster expressions of harmonic thought?
S: Yes, thought and communication. We also study vocal tones and analyze their meanings—anything which influences negative thought. We want to help people who wish to help themselves. This is not direct interference.
Dr. N: All right, Larian, but when you become proficient at being a Harmonizer Soul, what power will you possess?
S: We will become senders of recovering energy to combat mass disillusionment. The melody of a Harmonizer whispers through the corridors of Earth of better things to come. We are messengers of hope.
After listening to the explanations of a number of Harmonizer Souls, 1 have come to believe that those spiritual masters who designed this laboratory of chaos we call Earth did not set things in motion and then walk away. There are superior beings who care enough about our survival to watch over us. Frankly, for much of my life I did not believe this could be true. There is a common theme I hear among Harmonizer Souls. They wish to give people the means to help themselves where they can, but they are not the conscience of human beings and they do not interfere with our free will. We were created and sent to Earth to problem-solve within the matrix of an intelligent life form living in a difficult environment which involves suffering but also great beauty and promise. It is this balance we must recognize in our day-to-day reality. There is an old Chinese proverb that states “We count our miseries carefully and accept our blessings without much thought.”
Masters of Design
While this specialization is also multifaceted, to me it represents two major subdivisions of souls. Within a geophysical environment, there are purely structural specialists and those who create living things within these settings. The Master of Design trainees of my limited experience are assigned to work in a physical universe, frequently with uninhabited planets in the process of cooling after being formed out of stars. Those souls who are involved with the creation of life forms are engaged with worlds where new life is evolving.
I will begin by reviewing the activities of the structural souls who are in training to use energy for the designing of planetary geology. I think of them as architect-builders of topography who work with the component parts making up planetary surface features. This would include mountains, bodies of water, atmosphere and climate. Although structural specialists are associated with souls dedicated to landscaping with plants, trees and living creatures, that work is considered to be a separate classification of design. Structurally oriented souls are likely to begin their craft by constructing, in the spirit world, objects they knew in life.
Case 58
Dr. N: How many souls were in your original cluster group?
S: There were twenty-one … most of us have been split up now.
Dr. N: Does that mean you don’t see much of the original group?
S: (reflectively) No … that’s not it… just that we are scattered around. Most of us don’t work together anymore, (brightening) I do see my old friends at other times.
Dr. N: Did any members of the old group come with you?
S: Three … and two stayed.
Dr. N: How many souls have been assigned to your new group?
S: Eight right now, and we hear one more is coming.
Dr. N: I am curious how this change in your endeavors came about. Can you explain what the transition out of your original group was like for you?
S: (long pause) Well, in the beginning I noticed another guide began dropping in on our study sessions. We learned his name was Baatak. He had been invited by my guide Eirow to observe us for a while.
Dr. N: Did Baatak drop in at random during all phases of your work activities at that time?
S: No, he came only during the structural periods.
Dr. N: And what was the nature of your structural work then?
S: Oh, you know, the use of energy in structural composition. I like to sculpt matter into utilitarian designs.
Dr. N: I sec … well, I’ll come back to that. Tell me, did Baatak participate in your group activities during his visits to the old cluster?
S: No, he was an observer. He watched each of us carefully during the structural periods. Occasionally, he would ask one of us specific questions about how the work we were engaged in was coming along and if we felt an … affinity toward the work.
Dr. N: Give me an idea of your feelings about Baatak at this time and his attitude toward you.
S: I took to him right away. I think he saw that I really enjoyed what we were doing.
Dr. N: Then what happened with you and Baatak?
S: After a while (three more lifetimes), a few of us were invited to go with him for short periods to a new group that was being formed. I remember wanting Hyanth to come … so we could be together.
Dr. N: Is Hyanth someone important to you?
S: Yes, my soulmate.
Dr. N: And did she come with you into your new group?
S: No, Hyanth did not take to this concentrated structural work all that much … and so she went to another group that was being formed.
Dr. N: What did Hyanth object to about your new group?
S: Let me put it this way. I enjoy carving and shaping energy, experimenting with the relationships between planes and geometrical solids as building blocks of matter.
Dr. N: And Hyanth?
S: (with pride) Hyanth is attracted to designing the beautiful aspects of environmental settings suitable for life. She is wonderful with scenery. While I might construct a fitting series of inter- connecting mountains she would be more interested in the plants and trees growing on the mountain.
Dr. N: Let me understand something. Do you just go to a physical world and build a mountain, with someone like Hyanth concentrating on life forms such as the trees?
S: No, we work with physical worlds which are forming and set in motion the geologic forces which will build the mountain. My structural projects don’t have to have life. Also, Hyanth doesn’t create a forest of adult trees on worlds suitable for life. Her people would design the cells which might eventually grow into the trees they want.
Dr. N: Does this mean your group and Hyanth’s are separated?
S: (deep sigh) No, she is working nearby.
Dr. N: What is it like being in a newly formed group?
S: I don’t think I will ever be totally apart from my old bunch. We complemented one another in so many ways. For thousands of years we helped each other in all our lives. Now … well, the mixture of new people is strange. We all feel the same way about our old groups. We come from different backgrounds and experiences, it takes some getting use to.
Dr. N: Would you go so far as to say there is rivalry between the members of your new soul group?
S: (grins) Nooo … not really… we all have the same motives to help each other make a contribution. The teasing and joking in our original groups is mostly gone. Everyone is serious. We each have our own talent, ideas and ways of doing things. We can see that Baatak is in the process of unifying us and we are learning to pay close attention to the abilities of each other. It is an honor to be here, but we still have weaknesses.
Dr. N: What is yours?
S: I am afraid of experimenting with my power. I like working in comfortable situations where I know I can design something perfectly. One of my new friends is just the opposite. He produces some good planetary stuff and then just jumps in and comes up with something wacky like screwing up the atmosphere so no life of any kind can breathe. He gets all tangled up with complex plans that are beyond his capabilities.
Dr. N: Can you explain to me how you personally start with a structural design project in class?
S: By first visualizing what I want. I carefully put it together in my mind to get a clear blueprint. With my new group we are learning how to use the proper quality of energy in proper composition to a large scale. With Eirow I worked in parts, while Baatak wants everything to be an interconnecting whole.
Dr. N: So the interrelation of energy elements is important to both the form and balance of your work?
S: Absolutely! Light energy begins the process but there must be a harmony to the design, and it should have practical applications, (bursts out laughing)
Dr. N: Why are you laughing?
S: I was thinking about a construction project with Hyanth. It was in our off time. Hyanth and I were kidding each other about being too self-important. She challenged me to build a small version of the elegant church where we were married in one of our lives. I was a stone cutter in that life, (in Medieval France)
Dr. N: Did you accept her challenge?
S: (still laughing) Yes, on the condition she would help me.
Dr. N: Was that fair? I mean, she is not a specialist in structure.
S: She isn’t. Hyanth agreed to try and reproduce the stained glass windows and sculptures that she had loved. She wanted beauty and I wanted function. What a mess! I started by using flat beams of energy for the walls and was doing fairly well with the connecting arches, but the vaults and dome were a disaster. I called for Baatak and he fixed everything.
Dr. N: (an often-asked question) But this is all an illusion?
S: (laughing) Are you so sure of that? This building will stand for as long as we wish it to be here for us.
Dr. N: And then what? S: It will disappear.
Dr. N: So where are you in your planetary studies?
S: I am involved with creating particles of energy for rock shapes on a full planetary scale.
Dr. N: Is this where most of your attention is directed now?
S: No, mostly I must still experiment alone with many smaller models of topography to learn how to integrate all the elements of matter. So many mistakes happen but I enjoy the training. It’s just very slow.
Who gives souls the power to do what they do with matter? My sub- jects say they have the undeveloped capabilities, which are nurtured by teachers as their immediate source. They believe these masters receive the power they have from something higher. Yet ordinary souls them- selves demonstrate smaller aspects of this greater power. I have spent years debating with myself about creation while trying to incorporate fragments of information about the cosmos from the designer souls. I have come to the conclusion that intelligent energy waves create sub- atomic particles of matter and it is the vibrational frequency of these waves that causes matter to react in desired ways.
Astronomers are mystified by the fact there is some unknown form of energy contributing to the total density of our universe acting against gravity to expand empty space. I have reported that a musical resonance of intelligent energy waves appears to play a role in cosmology. Many people in my cases explain that harmonics are associated with “rhythmic values of energy notes which have ratios and proportions.” My subjects who arc Structural Souls say these designs relate to the formation of “geometric shapes that float as elastic patterns,” which contribute to the building blocks of a living universe. The geometry of space was exemplified by a client quote on page 135 and in case 44.
The Masters of Design have enormous influence on creation. I’m told they are capable of bridging universes that seem not to have a beginning or end, exacting their purposes among countless environmental settings. Carried to its logical conclusion, this would mean these masters—or grandmasters—would be capable of creating the spinning gas clouds of galactic matter which started the process of stars, planets and eventual life in our universe.
I am certain there is intelligent thought behind the formation of all animate and inanimate objects. This observation comes from souls who use their light energy for conceiving, designing, and then manipulating the molecules and cell structure of living matter which possess the physical properties they want in finished form. In my last case, I learned that the artistic designer soul of Hyanth formed full-grown trees in the spirit world to see if the finished product was appropriate, and then worked backward down to the seedlings and finally to the tree cells. This is one process of creating matter for functional use. I also indicated an example of this sort of energy training in case 35, with the creation and alteration of mice.
My next case is another illustration of those souls who work with living organisms. These designer souls are the biologists and botanists of the spirit world and they say that extraterrestrial life exists on billions of planets. I have an extensive file on souls who have incarnated on other worlds and souls who have traveled to a variety of strange worlds for both study and recreation between their lives on Earth.
Case 59
This is a distinctive case concerning a designer soul called Kala. As our session progressed, my subject spoke to me about a recent planetary assignment involving the need to adjust a problem with the ecosystem that was not going to be corrected by evolutionary adaptation. Before this case, I had not expected that souls would return to a planetary site for modifications of an existing environment since that would mean their designs were fallible. It was revealing for me to learn Kala’s experience involved the altering of the molecular chemistry of an existing creature in a controlled experiment.
When clients describe their soul experiences with life on other worlds, I try to learn about the galactic location, the planet’s size, orbit, the distance it lies from its star, atmospheric composition, gravitation and topography. I suppose my background as an amateur astronomer gives me an additional incentive to learn these details. Nonetheless, many clients find it annoying to try and answer astronomy questions they consider distracting and irrelevant. In our physical universe we know of 100 billion galaxies. Each of these silvery islands, separated by vast distances in light years, moves within the dark sea of space and contains countless billions of suns with the likelihood of life-supporting planets. Because my celestial references have little meaning to most subjects in hypnosis, and the worlds they talk about are so far away from Earth’s quadrant in space, I frequently just move on rather than impede the session.
Kala tried to explain to me that her creation design training class went to a planet “nowhere near Earth.” She called this world Jaspear and said it was in a double (binary) star system orbiting a “hot yellow star nearby, with a dull red larger star much farther away.” I was also told Jaspear was a little larger than Earth but had smaller oceans. She added this world was semi-tropical with four moons. After a little encouragement, Kala was willing to discuss her work involving a strange creature that has certain odd similarities to animals on Earth.
The average client with experience on an alien planet has feelings of reluctance about giving me information they consider to be privileged. I have mentioned this fact before in other areas of my spiritual research. Subjects clam up when they feel they should not be revealing knowledge entrusted to them, or that they are not intended to uncover in their current lives. This is particularly true with alien civilizations. It is frustrating for me to hear such statements as, “Neither you nor I are supposed to know about such places.” With Kala, I explained how important it was for both of us to know her capabilities as a soul, rather than my simply being an inquisitive investigator. Another effective hypnosis technique I might use to get around client blocks toward speaking about other worlds is to ask, “Have you known any fascinating alien life forms you care a great deal about?” This approach is irresistible to many souls who travel for work or play.
Dr. N: Kala, I would like to further explore what you have told me about your assignment to Jaspear. I think this would help me understand your specialty. Why don’t you begin with your training class and how the project on Jaspear was presented.
S: The six of us have been assigned to work with some seniors (Design Masters) to deal with this world where runaway vegetation has threatened the food supply of the small land animals.
Dr. N: So, basically the problem on Jaspear involves the ecosystem?
S: Yes, the thick vines … a voracious vine-like bush. It grows so fast it kills those plants needed for the food supply. There is little space left for the land creatures of Jaspear to graze.
Dr. N: And they can’t eat the vines?
S: No, and that’s why we went to Jaspear on this assignment.
Dr. N: (reacting too quickly) Oh, to rid the planet of these vines?
S: No, they are indigenous to the planet and its soil.
Dr. N: Well, then, what is the assignment?
S: To create a animal which will eat the vines—to control the spreading of this bush which chokes off so much other vegetation.
Dr. N: What animal?
S: (laughing) It is the Rinucula.
Dr. N: How are you going to do that with an animal that is not indigenous to Jaspear?
S: By creating a mutation from an existing small four-footed animal and accelerating its growth.
Dr. N: Kala, you can change the DNA genetic codes of one animal to create another?
S: I could not do this by myself. We have the combined energy of my training class, plus the skillful manipulation of the two seniors who have accompanied us on this field trip.
Dr. N: You use your energy to alter the molecular chemistry of an organism in order to circumvent natural selection?
S: Yes, to radiate the cells of a group of the small animals. We mutate the existing species and make it much larger so it will survive. Since we don’t have the time to wait for natural selection, we will also accelerate growth of the four-legged animal.
Dr. N: Do you accelerate the growth of the mutation so that the Rinucula appears right away, or do you accelerate the size of the creature itself?
S: Both—we want the Rinucula to be big and we want this evolutionary change to take place in one generation.
Dr. N: How many Earth years will this take?
S: (pause) Oh … fifty years or so … to us it seems like a day.
Dr. N: What did you do to the small animal who will becomea Rinucula?
S: We keep the legs and hairy torso—but it all will be larger.
Dr. N: Tell me about the finished product. What does a Rinucula look like?
S: (laughing) A … large curving nose down around the mouth … big lips… huge jaws… massive forehead … walks on four legs with hooves. About the size of a horse.
Dr. N: You said you kept the hair of the original animal?
S: Yes, it’s all over the Rinucula—long reddish-brown hair.
Dr. N: What about the brain of this animal—is it greater or less than a horse?
S: The Rinucula is smarter than a horse.
Dr. N: He sounds like something out of a Dr. Seuss children’s book.
S: (grins) That’s why it’s so much fun to think about him.
Dr. N: Has the Rinucula made a difference on Jaspear?
S: Yes, because he is many times the size of the original animal, and has other alterations—such as his huge jaw and body strength— he is really eating up the vines. The Rinucula is a docile creature with no natural predators and a voracious eater, like the original animal. That’s what the seniors wanted.
Dr. N: What about his reproduction on this planet? Do the Rinucula multiply quickly?
S: No, they reproduce slowly—that is why we had to create quite a number of Rinuculas after we programmed the desired genetic characteristics.
Dr. N: Do you know how this experiment ended?
S: Jaspear is now a more balanced world of plant eaters. We wanted the other animals to thrive as well. The vines are now under control.
Dr. N: Do you plan eventually to have highly intelligent life on Jaspear—is that what this is all about?
S: (vaguely) Perhaps the seniors do … I have no way of knowing.
Explorers
I consider most people who gain experience in different environments outside the spirit world between lives to be a type of Explorer Soul. They may be souls whose personal development requires in-depth experience on different worlds or simply recreational travelers. I also have clients who engage in temporary work assignments between lives that involve travel. Explorer Souls in training travel to physical and mental worlds in our universe and even into other dimensions. From the accounts I hear about, I picture a full-fledged Explorer Soul as a highly specialized, non-incarnating being who seeks out suitable training sites for the less-experienced souls and then eventually leads them to these regions. Their work ethic is one of reconnaissance.
When souls who are still incarnating on Earth move from the spirit world to other locations, these trips seem to be from point to point with no stops along the way. My clients say that in their travels to other places they do not perceive the trips to be long or short. This is illustrated by the following two quotes:
From the spirit world to a physical world it is like a door opens and you see the walls, of what appears to be a hall- way, a tube, whirling past on either side. Then another portal-type doorway opens and you are there.
When I pass into another dimension to a mental world I am like a piece of static flowing through a TV screen into magnetic zones structured by pure thought. The voids are composed of large, pulsating fields of energy. I feel the power of this energy more than when I go to a material universe because we must adapt our wave resonance to existing conditions in order to easily pass through. I want to keep my energy tight, so I don’t get lost. These trips are not instantaneous, but almost.
Most of the souls I work with who explore other worlds are led by instructors. Also, I find those subjects who travel interdimensionally are not limited to souls in an advanced state of development. We saw this in the hide-and-seek game. They seem to be adventuresome souls who relish travel, the challenges of different environments, and new forms of self-expression. I have been told of existences where intelligent beings reside within blocks of matter so dense it is described as resembling the composition of silver and lead. Others tell me about realms appearing as shining glass surfaces amid towers of crystal. There are physical worlds consisting of fire, water, ice or gas where all manner of intelligent life thrives. These spheres within which Explorer Souls move have light, pastel or dark environments. However, the dark habitats do not bear the sinister connotations that people associate with regions of foreboding.
The Explorer Souls do not emphasize a polarity of light and darkness in their travels as much as other elements. These could include a restless or serene environment, thin or heavy density, physical or mental domains, and conditions lending themselves to what has been described as “purified or coarse intelligence.” Traveler souls who move into different realms of cosmic consciousness must learn to align their energy with symmetry to local conditions within these demarcations. Explorer guides can take souls on brief visits to higher dimensional levels to raise their consciousness. In the minds of many subjects, these trips don’t last long and this is probably to avoid overwhelming younger souls.
In the last chapter, under recreational activities in the spirit world, 1 said that soul travel often involves working vacations. These visits are usually to physical worlds for souls from Earth and can last from a few days up to hundreds of years in Earth time. I receive a great deal of information about other worlds from discussions of a client’s R & R periods between lives. My hypnosis subjects are usually more relaxed about giving me details of their recreational travel to other worlds, as demonstrated by the next case.
Case 60
Dr. N: What activity are you most engaged in between lives when you are not reviewing karmic lessons with your soul group?
S: Well… I do take trips … ah … but they are rather personal. I don’t think I should talk about this sort of thing …
Dr. N: I don’t wish to make you uncomfortable with telling me things which you feel you shouldn’t, (pause) Just let me ask if there is some exotic place you travel to between lives which gives you fond memories?
S: (reacts quickly with a broad smile) Oh, yes—to Brooel.
Dr. N: (lowering my voice) Is this a world where you incarnate?
S: No, I remain as a soul because I only go to Brooel to rejuvenate my spirit… and it’s fun to take trips here because it is like Earth with no people.
Dr. N: (in a reassuring tone) I see, so you mostly go for rest and recreation. Why don’t you tell me about the physical aspects of Brooel compared to Earth.
S: It is smaller than Earth and colder because the sun is further away. It has mountains, trees, flowers and fresh water but no oceans.
Dr. N: Who brings you to Brooel?
S: Uh … a Master Navigator by the name of jhumu.
Dr. N: Would this be the same type of soul as an Explorer who is a specialist in travel, or someone like your own guide?
S: Jhumu is an Explorer all right, we call them navigators, (pause) But our guides can come with us too if they want.
Dr. N: I understand completely. Tell me, do you usually go alone or with other members of your soul group?
S: We could come alone but the navigators usually bring a few members of different groups.
Dr. N: What do you think of Jhumu?
S: (more relaxed) Jhumu likes being a tour director for those of us who are taking breaks from our normal activities. He says it gives us perspective.
Dr. N: That sounds interesting. I know you are anxious to explain why Brooel is great fun, so why don’t we begin by my asking you about the animal life on this planet.
S: Ah … no fish, frogs, snakes—no amphibians.
Dr. N: Oh? Why is that, do you think?
S: (pause and a little confused) I don’t know, except those of us who come here want to be involved with a special land animal… who is—. (stops)
Dr. N: (coaxing) An animal you remember?
S: (laughs) Our favorite … the Arder. They are like a small bear with cat features all rolled into one. (wrapping her arms around her sides) The Arder is a wonderful, furry, cuddly, peaceful animal which is really not an animal as we know it.
Dr. N: What does this mean?
S: The Arder is very intelligent and affectionate.
Dr. N: How does their intelligence compare to humans?
S: That’s difficult to say. It is not higher or lower than humans… just different.
Dr. N: What is most different?
S: They have absolutely no need for conflict or competition among their kind. This is why we are brought to this peaceful setting—it gives us hope for a better future on Earth—what Earth could become if we all got our act together.
Dr. N: What do you and your friends do on Brooel?
S: We come and play with these gentle creatures, who seem to have a connection for souls from Earth needing rest. We materialize our energy in a minor way to interact with the Arders.
Dr. N: Can you be more specific about this process?
S: Well… we assume transparent human shapes to hug them. We float into their minds … so unearthly and subtle. After life on a hard physical world such as Earth, they heal us in this setting. The Arder is a soothing creature which motivates us to see what is possible with the human body.
The setting for R & R is as much of a factor on these trips of exploration by souls as the attributes of the alien life forms they find there. While in trance, my subjects have great empathy for the unspoiled planets which are similar to Earth but with no people. They look upon these places as their own special playgrounds. I don’t see nearly as many clients with memories of going to mental worlds. This is natural. We are beings used to bright light and physical dimensions. The following quote is another example of interaction with a life form purely for recreation.
We are taken by the travelers to the place of the Quigleys. They are the size of a muskrat, fat and fluffy with a forehead similar to a bull-nosed dolphin. The Quigley has big, rounded ears and straight-out whiskers. They have the IQ of perhaps a smart dog. They are devoted and happy animals who love us. Their planet is an ancient, mystical land of gently rolling hills and valleys carpeted with flowers and small, delicate trees. It is very bright here and there is an inland body of fresh water. We relax and play in this world of perfect peace.
If we have dreams of being tall giants, very short elfin-appearing beings, or having the bodies of water and air creatures, this could mean these dreams reflect unconscious memories of a prior incarnation on another world. However, it is also just as likely we were associated with this type of entity on R & R visits to some exotic world. Much of our mythology about strange creatures may also stem from these memories. I should add that most people have dreams of being able to fly. This probably relates more to our memories of floating around as a soul in a disembodied state than being a flying creature in a former life.
In order to appreciate the symbiotic relationship between an earthly soul who has had associations with other forms of life, let’s examine the next excerpt from one of my cases who is a hybrid soul. I refer the reader to my comments about hybrids on page 100. In the quote below of a fond memory, my client became very nostalgic. Sometimes a hybrid soul will tell me about being taken by an Explorer Soul between lives to a world similar to that of their first physical incarnations. Between my lives on Earth, I visit a water world called Anturium, which is so restful after a difficult life on land. Anturium has only one land mass, the size of Iceland. I come with a few of my friends who also have an affinity to water. We are brought by an Explorer- guide who is familiar with this region. Here we join the Kratens, who look a little like whales. They are telepathic and a long-lived race who do not mind our coming and mentally connecting with them for a while. Occasionally, they gather at certain locations to telepathically communicate with intelligent aquatic life forms who exist on two other planets (around stars in the galactic vicinity of Anturium). What I love about this place is the unity and harmony of thought with the Kratens which rejuvenates my mind and reminds me of my original planet.
Apparently, the Kratens have the ability to project their minds as beacons of unified thought away from Anturium to other worlds by knowing the points of confluence in the magnetic energy belt around their planet. These vortex areas, similar to the ley lines of Earth discussed in chapter 4, seem to give the Kraten’s telepathic power a boost and serve as conduits to better interstellar communication. From this case and hundreds of others, I have come to the conclusion that every- thing on Earth and in the universe is apparently connected by thought waves to and from the spirit world. This may also be true for other dimensions near us as well. The multiple progression of intelligence with all elements of matter represents a symphony of order and direc- tion based upon a plan of universal consciousness.
In the last chapter, I explained how some recreational games are used as training vehicles for the souls attracted to exploration. The more adept engage in interdimensional travel. One of my Explorer-trainee clients said to me, “I was told that to become an Explorer I would have to experience many realities by beginning my travels to physical worlds, and then escalating to the mental existences and interdimensional travel.” In order to acquaint the reader with interdimensional life, I have chosen the strange case of a client from Japan who told me in deep hypnosis that his soul was originally from another dimension. His spiritual name is Kanno.
Case 61
Kanno is a Japanese scientist who, years ago, came to the U.S. for his advanced education. Today he prefers a life of relative isolation in laboratories. He suffers from a poor immune system, a common complaint among hybrid soul clients. These people are negatively influenced bytoo-little experience with the human body and too many alien imprints carried over from their former existences. As I have said, it may take the hybrid soul many generations of earthly incarnations before a complete memory cleansing of old body energy patterns will take place.
I began our session in my customary fashion, by regressing Kanno to the time when he was inside his mother’s womb. This is a good place for a spiritual regressionist to start interacting with a client’s soul. While inside his mother, my subject reported that he had trepidations about his coming birth stemming from his one prior life on Earth some 300 years ago in India. I continued the regression to Kanno’s death scene in India and then we crossed into the spirit world. I will pick up the dialogue with Kanno when he meets his guide, Phinus.
Dr. N: What does Phinus say to you?
S: She says, “Welcome back, how did you like the ride?”
Dr. N: And what is your response?
S: Did it have to be so terrible?
Dr. N: Does she agree with your assessment of life in India?
S: Phinus reminds me that I volunteered to have a difficult opening life on Earth because I wanted to receive the full impact of a disruptive planet. I was the poorest of the poor in India and lived in squalor.
Dr. N: Did you want to suffer this much in your initial life?
S: The life was terrible and I didn’t handle it well. When a childless family took my daughter against my will by paying the owner of the shack where I lived, I became so distraught I could not function. (Kanno jerks in his chair and emotionally relives the moments after his last death) WHAT KIND OF A PLANET IS THIS ANYWAY? PEOPLE SELLING CHILDREN!
Dr. N: (at this point I do not yet know about Kanno’s hybrid origins and I make a wrong assumption) This does seem as though it was a very difficult first incarnation for a new soul on Earth.
S: Who said I was a new soul?
Dr. N: I’m sorry, Kanno. I just assumed that right now you are only in your second incarnation on Earth.
S: That’s true, but I’m from another dimension.
Dr. N: (startled) Oh, then what can you tell me about this other dimension?
S: We had no physical worlds as you have in this dimension. My incarnations were on a mental world.
Dr. N: What did you look like on this world?
S: I had an elongated, flowing body—spongy, with no skeletal structure. We were rather transparent forms of silvery light.
Dr. N: Did you prefer a certain type of gender?
S: We were all hermaphrodites.
Dr. N: Kanno, please explain the difference between traveling to the dimension of your origins from the spirit world as opposed to coming into our universe.
S: In my dimension movement is like going through soft, translucent filaments of light. Coming into your universe is like plowing through thick, heavy, moisture-laden fog.
Dr. N: And being on Earth for the first time—what was that like compared to your home world?
S: Having concrete tied to your feet. The first thing you notice is the heavy weight of the dense energy here compared to a mental world, (pause) It isn’t just heavy—it’s coarse … severe … I was really jolted in that life in India.
Dr. N: Is all this a little better now—are you becoming acclimatized?
S: (without confidence) To some extent. It’s still pretty difficult…
Dr. N: I can see that. Kanno, what is the most troubling aspect about the human brain for you?
S: (abruptly) Ahh—it’s the impulsive behavior—the physical reaction to things—without analytical thought. There is danger in connecting with the wrong kind of human being, too … treachery … I can’t deal with this.
Dr. N: (Kanno is sweating profusely and I quiet him now a bit before continuing) Tell me about your mental world. Does it have a name?
S: (pause) It’s a sound which I can’t re-create with my voice, (begins reminiscing) We float in a sea of gentle mental currents … soft… playful… so unlike Earth.
Dr. N: Then why come here?
S: (with a deep sigh) I am studying to be an Explorer-teacher. Most of my associates are satisfied to confine their efforts to one dimension. I finally told Phinus I wanted broader experience with a hard world in a completely different zone of existence. She told me she had a senior colleague who recommended another dimension with a strenuous physical world that had a reputation for producing vigorous, insightful souls (with a gallows laugh)— once you survive the lessons. This was Earth.
Dr. N: Did you get the impression there were other choices open to you?
S: (shrugs) Guides don’t give you many choices in such situations. Phinus said that when I completed my work on Earth I would be strengthened in ways my friends who refused such assignments would not be. She said Earth would also be quite interesting and I accepted that.
Dr. N: Did any of your friends come with you into our dimension?
S: No, I was the only one who elected to go and I almost refused to return again in this life. My associates think I am very brave. They know if I make it, I’m going to be an effective traveler.
Dr. N: Let’s talk about travel, Kanno. As an interdimensional traveler, you probably know if there is a finite number of dimensions around our physical universe.
S: (flatly) I do not know.
Dr. N: (cautiously) Well, is your home dimension next to ours?
S: No, I must pass through three other dimensions to get here.
Dr. N: Kanno, it would be helpful if you would try and describe what you see as you pass through these dimensions you are familiar with in your travels.
S: The first dimension is a sphere full of colors and violent explosions of light, sound and energy … I think it is still forming. The next is black and empty—we call it the unused sphere. Then there is a beautiful dimension which has both physical and mental worlds composed of gentle emotion, tender elements and keen thought. This dimension is superior to my original dimension and your universe as well.
Dr. N: It’s now your universe too, Kanno. Tell me, does the trip through the total of four dimensions take long?
S: No, quickly—like air particles passing through a filter.
Dr. N: Can you give me a sense of the structural design between these dimensions in relation to the spirit world? You described the dimensions as spheres. Why don’t we start with that.
S: (long pause) I can’t tell you much. Everything is … in a circle around the center of the spirit world. Each of these universes appears to me to be an interlocking sphere with the next, as in a chain.
Dr. N: (after failing to gain more information) How are you getting on in our universe now, Kanno?
S: (rubbing his hand on his forehead) Better. I am learning how to discharge my energy in a steady, positive stream without depleting my reserve. It helps me to be away from people for long periods. I expect to really improve after a few more lives, but I am looking forward to completing my time here on Earth.
Before leaving the realm of the Explorer Soul, I should add that this sort of training involves learning about the texture of intelligent energy. I am frustrated in not being able to discover more about the properties of this energy in motion on mental worlds. Some information comes to me from those souls who have had experience on physical worlds which are also considered mental, as demonstrated by the following condensed quote:
We visit the volcanic gas world of Crion to learn by assimilation. It is a mental world with outward physical attributes. Our group of Explorers float as blobs of fluid energy in a sea of gaseous substances. We are metamor-phic and able to change shape and form into the tiny beings whose life is centered around pure thought. There is absolute vibrational uniformity here, unlike Earth.
Souls who travel interdimensionally explain that their movements appear to be in and out of curved spheres connected by zones that are opened and closed by converging vibrational attunement. Explorer trainees have to learn this skill. From the accounts I have heard, the interdimensional travelers must also learn about the surface boundaries of zones connecting universes as hikers locating trailheads between mountain ranges. Souls speak of points, lines and surfaces in multi- space which indicate larger structural solids, at least for the physical universes. I would think dimensions having geometric designs need hyperspace to hold them. Yet Explorer Souls travel so fast in some sort of hyperspace it seems to me the essence of speed, time and direction of travel is hardly definitive. Training to be an Explorer must indeed be formidable, as indicated by this quote from a client who travels through five dimensions between her lives:
These dimensions are meshed with one another so that I have no sense of boundaries except for two elements, sound and color. With sound, I must learn to attune my energy to the vibrational frequency of each dimension, and some are so complex I can not yet go to them. With color, the purples, blues, yellows, reds and whites are manifestations of light and density for those energy particles in the dimensions where I travel.
9 The ring of destiny
The Screening Room of Future Lives
The place of future life selection is seen as a sphere containing highly concentrated force fields of glowing energy screens.
As I mentioned in the section on spiritual libraries, the place of life selection has been characterized as the Ring of Destiny, where we first behold our next body.
Most subjects see the Ring as a circular, domed theater with floor-to- ceiling panoramic screens which surround them completely while they are situated in a shadowed viewing area. Some people see the screens as being on two or three sides while they stand or sit on a raised deck, from this observation deck, souls can look up, straight ahead or down at the screens that are huge compared to what is seen in the other learning centers of the spirit world.
The Ring displays futuristic scenes of events and people the soul will encounter in the life to come. Some clients have commented that each screen reflects scenes of childhood, adolescence, adulthood, and old age of the bodies they are reviewing, while others say that all the screens show them the same scene at one time. The whole spiritual structure of the screening room is designed to give the viewer an ability either to observe or participate in the action, just as in libraries. It does seem to me that more people elect to enter the screens of the Ring during life selection than with the screens in the other learning centers. They want to actually experience snippets of future events in certain bodies before making any final decisions. The preference to enter a scene or just observe is always left up to the individual soul. As with the smaller consoles, the Ring also has what appears to be control panels or lever bars to monitor the action. People call this procedure scanning the timelines, and the more advanced tell me they can control the array of events in front of them with their minds. The sequence of events can, tosome extent, be regulated in stop action for parts of a future life the soul may wish to consider more carefully.
I cannot stress too much that all my subjects feel what they are seeing has been edited for their benefit and that they have less control over what they can watch than, say, in the library. Moreover, I have the impression that when looking into the future, they see more of an early life than later. This may be due to bias in reporting since those years are already over by the time I see the client. The key viewing years of a new life seem to be between eight and twenty, when the first major forks in life begin to emerge. Many people tell me they are shown certain years in great detail while other parts of their future life are completely left out. The control panels seem to be of no use here, yet this never bothers my subjects. I believe their current amnesia also plays a part. As one forty-nine-year-old man explained, “I was shown my current body at ages four, sixteen, and twenty-eight, but I think I am now being blocked from recalling what I saw afterwards.”
During viewing, the screens ebb and flow like a film of water. One woman used a suitable metaphor to represent her feelings about the experience when she said:
As the screens come alive they resemble a three-dimensional underwater aquarium. When I look at a life it's like taking a deep breath and going underwater. People, places, events—everything floats by you in a flash before your eyes as if you are drowning. Then you come back to the surface. When you are actually sampling a scene from the life they show you, it reflects the time a person is able to stay underwater. In many ways, uncovering the memories my subjects have about their last experience in the life selection room and their interpretations as to body choice is one of the most therapeutic and informative aspects of my hypnosis sessions. My clinical work is greatly enhanced when a client returns to the Ring because of the relevancy to their current life. By offering the reader a more comprehensive picture of this process, I hope to bring a greater appreciation of the importance of each life we select in our cycle of lives.
This chapter contains one final soul specialty that I will add to my list. These are the Timemasters, who are coordinators engaged with past, present and future timelines of people and events. Timemasters are the highly adroit experts who give the impression of actually directing the presentations in our theater-in-the-round. These master souls are members of an entire fellowship of planners that include guides, Archivists and council Elders, who are involved with designing our future.
A large percentage of my subjects never see Timemasters in the screening room. Some clients feel they are alone in the Ring except for a “projectionist.” Others will enter the Ring with a personal guide, or perhaps an Elder, who is the only advisor they are aware of helping them during life selection. In terms of our own input, many souls have already organized their thoughts about the next reincarnation. Our guides and council members have helped refine these thoughts with questions about what we think our next life should be about and the type of human being that might best suit us. Still, we are not really prepared for the choices offered to us once we enter the life selection room. There is a sense of wonder and even some apprehension for the average soul.
The Timemasters of the Ring seem to be shadowy figures in the background who may be consulted by those guides who accompany us to the viewing areas. Even if they are seen, my clients are not inclined to communicate with them during observations. This is why my next case is atypical.
Case 62
Dr. N: Please give me a picture of what takes place as you enter the sphere of life selection.
S: There are two beings who come forward to work with my guide, Fyum. He seems to know them well.
Dr. N: Do you see them in this place before every new life?
S: No, only when the next life is going to be particularly difficult— which means a number of hard body choices.
Dr. N: Do you mean more body choices than usual, or more complex individual bodies?
S: Mmm … usually I get only a couple of body choices and that makes it easier for me.
Dr. N: Do you know the names of these two specialists who talk to Fyum?
S: (jerks in chair) Never! That’s just not something I would know. There isn’t any… easy familiarity here with these masters of time … that’s why Fyum is with me.
Dr. N: I understand. So do your best lo give me an idea of what these Timemasters of your life offerings are like.
S: (more relaxed now) Okay, number 1 is masculine-appearing and he is rigorous in his demeanor. I know he is inclined toward having me choose a certain body—the one which will be the most useful. This body will give me the maximum experience I need in my future life.
Dr. N: Oh … from all I have heard, the Ring directors are rather quiet, unobtrusive beings.
S: Well… yes, that’s true, but during the choosing, there is always a preferred body choice that the planners feel is best. This body is given a prominent presentation, (pause) Everyone knows this is the first time I have seen these choices—and they want my choice to be fruitful.
Dr. N: So I have heard. Why don’t you tell me about number 2?
S: (smiling) She is feminine and softer … more flexible. She wants me to accept the body which will be pleasurable to be inside. She leans to moderation and turns to 1 and says there is plenty of time to learn my lessons. I have the feeling there is a deliberate juxtaposition between them for my benefit.
Dr. N: Sort of like the good cop, bad cop routine during an interrogation?
S: (laughs) Yeah, maybe, so I will have an advocate in both camps with Fyum taking the middle road.
Dr. N: So Fyum is kind of a referee?
S: Mmm … no, that’s not true. Fyum is neither lenient nor severe in attitude as I deliberate my choices. It is made clear to me that the body choice is mine alone because I am going to have to live with it. (a burst of laughter) Hey, I made a pun!
Dr. N: I think you did. We really do have to live with our choices. Why don’t you explain what choosing the body you had in your last life was all about before we go further.
S: In my last life, I chose a difficult path with the body of a woman who would die within two years of marriage. My husband in that life needed to feel the loss of someone he loved deeply for a karmic debt from the life before.
Dr. N: So there was a high probability that this particular body was going to die young and the main question was would you be the soul who would elect to choose that body?
S: Yes, that’s about it.
Dr. N: Well, please go on and tell me the circumstances surrounding your death as a young woman in that life.
S: In the screening room I saw I had three choices of death during a narrow time span involving my life on a ranch near Amarillo, Texas. I could die quickly from a stray bullet during a gunfight between two drunken men. I could die more slowly after a fall from a bucking horse. And I could die by drowning in a river.
Dr. N: Was there any chance you might live?
S: (pause) A slight one, but that would defeat the purpose of my joining with that body.
Dr. N: Which was what?
S: My soulmate and I chose to be husband and wife on this ranch because he needed the lesson. I rejected the other body choices. I came to help him.
Dr. N: Tell me what was on your mind as you looked at the three choices in the screening room.
S: I chose the bullet, naturally. The manner of my death was not about these choices as much as the meaning behind my dying young.
The reader may wonder about the connection of the laws of karma to future possibilities and probabilities. Karma does not only pertain to our deeds, it is internal as well, reflecting our thoughts, feelings and impulses—all relating to cause and effect. Karma is more than taking proper actions toward others, it is also having the intention to do so. While the timeline for the Amarillo woman had a high probability of being short, her early death was not chiseled in stone. One of the variables here was the type of soul that would occupy that particular body. Even with the soul who elected to take this body anticipating a short life, there were elements of free will to be considered. I learned that it was not 100 percent ordained that this woman would die young by the stray bullet that hit her while she was standing across the street from the saloon where the gunfight took place. When I asked if she might have avoided going into Amarillo for supplies that day my, client said, “Yes, but something impelled me to go into town right when I did, and I almost didn’t go without knowing why.” Another soul might not have gone at the last minute without knowing why either.
Timelines and Body Choices
Although time has little relevance outside our physical universe, we see ourselves and everything around us aging each day. We live on a planet around a star, which is also constantly aging in chronological time. The cycle of life involves movement of time and the timelines of our dimensional reality appear to be influenced by advanced beings who allow reincarnating souls to study the past and see into the future. In libraries and spiritual learning centers we can view other possible actions we might have taken in former lives to explore the “what ifs” of our past.
Under the doctrine of free will, the events of the past were not inevitable any more than our actions within those events. Fate does not decree that a certain situation has to come out a particular way. We are not puppets on a string. In our universe, when the past is over, these events and the people involved with them become eternal and are forever preserved in spiritual libraries. Since past, present and future in chronological time represent now time in the spirit world, how is future time treated in the Ring of life selection?
In chapter 5, following case 30,1 postulated on the many possibilities for the same event existing in parallel universes. In physical universes, this hypothesis means planets such as Earth could be duplicated within the same time frames and exist simultaneously as moving particle waves of light energy. Universes might be parallel, superimposed coexisting realities within the same dimension, or something else inconceivable. Regardless of the spatial layout, from the true reality of the spirit world, time and events are tracked, stopped, and moved forward and backward by examiners of Earth. The major trunk lines, which I call base lines, are the probabilities of future events in certain bodies presented as possibilities for our examination in the Ring.
The waves of past events still indelibly exist, as in spiritual libraries, but if the present and future also exist in now time, how can the future be changed when the past is not? Is this an impossible paradox? In quantum mechanics, particles of light seem to vanish at one point and reappear instantaneously in another place. If each event in time exists along wavelike ripples of probabilities and possibilities, is it likely that a past event is given certain eternal properties where future events are still fluid and open to change? My strong feeling is yes.
However, after years of listening to people explain about their life choices, I do not believe future alternatives are unlimited in number. There is no need for our choices in life to be infinite. These possibilities only have to be varied enough for us to learn from the lessons. For example, in case 29, Amy indicated to me from a past life review in the library that her alternative choices to suicide began to fall off the chart of possibilities after a while.
The planners deal in the “what ifs” of our lives. Events which have not yet taken place in the grand scheme of things are known by Timemasters and others for their greater or lesser potential of happen- ing. We do not simply study alternate timelines of future events in the Ring. Rather, we examine the alternative bodies offered us that will exist within those events. These bodies will be born into roughly the same time frames. Watching the most probable series of events linked to those bodies under consideration is like previewing advance promotional scenes from a movie.
As they view specific scenes of what the Timemasters want them to see, some souls feel they are playing a chess game where they don’t yet know all the possible moves available for a desired ending. Usually, souls look at parts of a future life on a base line, or Ring Line, as some clients call it. The Ring Line represents the greatest probable course of a life for each body examined. The soul preparing for incarnation knows that one chess move, one minute change in the game they are watching, could alter the outcome. I find it intriguing that most of the time souls are not shown any in-depth probable future outcomes. They know there are many other possible moves on the chessboard of life which can change at any moment of play. Frankly, this is what makes the game interesting for most souls. Changes in life are conditional on our free will toward a certain action. This causality is part of the laws of karma. Karma is opportunity but it also involves fortitude and endurance because the game will bring setbacks and losses along with personal victories.
Reports of what goes on in these screening rooms are very consistent between hypnosis subjects. Their affirmations of what they all see bog- gle the mind. Still, while in the Ring, people are not able to view events into the future beyond the next immediate life span of the bodies presented to them. Evidently, this might cloud the way souls see the lives they are viewing. Taking my cue from this spirit world practice, I prefer not to work with progression in hypnosis except in spiritual screening rooms. Once in a while, in conjunction with something else under discussion out of the Ring, a subject will get brief flashes of scenes where they are participating in a future event, such as being on a starship. I usually don’t push for more information here. Moreover, these flashes of future existences are mercurial since people may only see a single possibility that could change when the time actually arrives, owing to a whole host of new circumstances and decisions based upon the timelines of history leading up to these events.
The screening rooms arc helpful to those souls with reservations about accepting a covenant for the next life. For many, observing certain aspects of their future gives them confidence. Nevertheless, some apprehensive souls have said they refuse to enter the screens to directly sample bodies for fear they might lose their nerve in accepting a difficult life contract. The more intrepid souls feel the screening room is designed to foster just the opposite reaction because you are allowed to test the waters before jumping in.
A poignant example of someone preparing for a trial is the selection of a homosexual body. Since a predisposition to being a gay or lesbian person is essentially biological and not the result of social learning or environment, these bodies are picked by souls for two basic reasons. As I have said before, at levels 1 and II many souls choose bodies of one particular gender around 75 percent of the time because they are comfortable being male or female. I find that my gay and lesbian clients have started the process of alternating gender choices in their lives, which is reflective of the more developed soul. Choosing to be a gay male or lesbian female is one means of affecting that transition in a particular life. Thus, their current sex may not be as familiar to them as the body of the opposite sex, such as a gay male feeling as if he is actually in the body of a female.
The second and far more important factor is souls choosing a gay or lesbian orientation in advance of the life they are now living because they deliberately chose to exist in a society that would be prejudiced against them. My gay and lesbian clients are usually not young, inexperienced souls. If they go public, this means these people have decided to live a life where they will be swimming upstream in a culture with rigid gender role stereotypes. They must try and rise above public abuse in order to find self-esteem and self-identity. This takes daring and resolve, which I see when I take these clients back to the life selection room when these decisions were made.
To illustrate all this, I had a gay male client who was once an Empress in China. After a long wait, he was in his first incarnation since that life of luxury and power. This soul, known as Jamona, explained that as an Empress he was in the body of a strikingly beautiful woman who wore a fortune in jewels and was waited on hand and foot, befitting her rank. It was a life of self-indulgence, lack of trust in everyone around her due to court intrigue, and adulation by her subjects. In the life selection room, just before Jamona’s current life, there were three body choices. This is what my client had to say about his decision:
Of my three choices, two were women and one was a handsome young man who, I was told, "was feminine inside." One woman was very thin, almost frail-looking, who was to live a quiet life of a devoted wife and mother. The other woman was chic, kind of flashy, and destined to be a society gadfly. She was also emotionally cold. I chose the man because I would have to cope with a life of homosexuality. I knew if I could overcome the shame of society it would offset my life of adulation as an Empress.
These selections were in keeping with the usual spread of body choices. The attractive society woman would simply have been an extension of my client’s former life as a public figure who was self- absorbed and envied. The housewife would not have been a poor choice. Here was a middle-of-the-road offering where Jamona would have learned to be humble and accept life’s trials in poor circumstances. Even so, the candidate was another woman and Jamona wanted to break a long cycle of being in female bodies.
Choosing the life of a gay man, according to Jamona, was the hardest one, although he has been much more financially secure than the woman of ordinary means. We are not coached during these selections but the older souls know there is often one tempting choice which would not test us very much. Jamona knew this was the society woman. He made his choice not because he was pushed into selecting the leading candidate of the gay male but because the trial was clearly the hardest.
My client told me, “There have been many people in my life who have treated me with disgust and even loathing. I needed to experience this discrimination—to feel unsafe and vulnerable.”
One thing I have noticed in the selection of bodies is that the more advanced souls are able, to make insightful comparisons between the bodies offered them within the time periods that are presented. I also see many less-advanced souls accept the body they know they ought to choose as the best course of action. They trust the selection process more than themselves. A client said, “For me, getting a new body is like trying on a new suit of clothes off the rack which you want to buy and hope it won’t need alterations.”
Timemasters
Only once every few years does a Timemaster in training come my way. When I recognize one, they are a resource to be treasured. Since there are other specialties associated with timelines I must guard against making early presumptions in the hypnosis session. For instance, the Archivist Souls assist souls in searching out their past histories and alternative timelines to those events. Thus, they function more as historians and chroniclers than as Timemasters who would track timelines of the immediate future for bodies under consideration in the life selection room. As with the other soul specialties, I’m sure there is overlapping here, too, with many masters working on time coordination for souls in need of their services. This is why my clients often lump them all together in their minds with the label of planners.
There is much the Timemaster trainees don’t know yet, or so they say. As I probe the esoteric aspects of any soul specialty, there is the necessity of sorting out the usual blockages of details I am not supposed to know as opposed to what my advanced subject really doesn’t know. Readers may wonder why I didn’t ask other relevant questions in the cases presented in this book. The chances are I did, but received no response. Sometimes, both the trainee in a specialty area and I bring forth information which starts off as being inadvertent and then snowballs. Such was the case with a soul called Obidom, who is an engineer in his current life. I will begin the dialogue at a memorable point in our session.
Case 63
Dr. N: Obidom, can you tell me what you do between lives that represents your greatest challenge as a soul?
S: I study time on the planet Earth.
Dr. N: To what end?
S: I wish to be a master of this art… traveling the timelines … understanding the sequences with people living in a physical world. To help the planners assist souls in their life selections.
Dr. N: How is your program progressing?
S: (sighs) Very slowly, I’m such a beginner I need many mentors.
Dr. N: Why were you chosen for this training?
S: It is very difficult for me to tell you because I don’t think I am very worthy of this art. I suppose it all began because I enjoy manipulating energy and became rather good at it in my classes.
Dr. N: Well, isn’t this true of many souls who make things by energy manipulation in their creation classes?
S: (beginning to warm to my questions) This is different, we don’t create … in the same way.
Dr. N: What is different about your work?
S: To work with time, you must learn spatial manipulation. You start with models and then go to the real thing.
Dr. N: What sort of models?
S: (dreamily) Oh … a huge vaporized pool… of swirling liquid energy … thinning in those gaps where scenes are simulated for us in mini-bites… the gaps open … you see neon tubes of fluctuating light… ready for entry, (stops) It’s really hard to explain.
Dr. N: That’s all right, Obidom. 1 would like to discuss where you are now working, who teaches you, and something about the practical art of becoming a Timemaster.
S: (quietly) Time training is conducted at a temple, (grins) We call it the Temple of Time—where teachers instruct us in the application of energy sequences for events.
Dr. N: What are sequences?
S: Timelines exist as energy sequences of events which move.
Dr. N: Tell me how you manipulate energy in the timelines.
S: Time is manipulated by compressing and stretching energy particles within a unified field and to regulate its flow … like playing with rubber bands.
Dr. N: Can you change events in the past, present and future? Is that what you mean by manipulation?
S: (long pause) No, I can only monitor the energy sequences. We operate as… highwaymen who enter and exit the sequences— which we consider roads—by speeding up and slowing down. Condensingour energy speeds us up and expansion slows us down. It’s the same thing with events and people who appear on the sequences as points in the roads. We don’t create anything. We intersect as observers.
Dr. N: Then who created the time sequences in the first place?
S: (exasperated) How can I know that? At my stage I am only trying to function within the system.
Dr. N: Just asking, Obidom. You’re being very helpful. Tell me, to what purpose do you function as a Timemaster in training?
S: We are given one-event assignments… the human choices around that event all have meaning. The practical applications of what we do involve human streams of thought and actions that join in a river of time.
Dr. N: I would call these occurrences passages of action and memory of that action.
S: I would agree. Particles of energy do involve memory.
Dr. N: How?
S: Energy is the carrier of thought and memory within the sequences and these never pass into oblivion. The conduit by which time is perceived begins with thought—the shaping of an idea—then the event and finally the memory of the event.
Dr. N: How is all this recorded into the sequences?
S: By the vibrational tone of each recorded particle of energy. This is what we recover.
Dr. N: Can the sequences exist in all sorts of alternate realities?
S: (pause) Yes … overlapping and interlaced … this is what makes the search interesting if one has the skill to find them. All things can be observed and retrieved for study.
Dr. N: I need more direction here, Obidom.
S: There is a lot I can’t tell you. The particles of energy which are part of the causation for the setting up of events in time involve vibrational patterns with many alternatives. We view all this human history as useful for future incarnations of people.
Dr. N: Tell me how you feel about alternate possibilities to events.
S: (long pause) We study what is productive. Events—poor, better, best—are played out until they cease to be productive, (sighs deeply) Anyway, I’m still very new at that. I study the past scenes of what has taken place.
Dr. N: So are you saying everything that can exist in time does not necessarily exist if there is nothing for human beings to learn from its existence?
S: (pause) Ah … yes, similar situations of decision-making call for slightly different solutions ?nd after a while the differences are so small they would be nonproductive as lessons.
Dr. N: From all you have told me, Obidom, I have the feeling you are not much engaged in future time just yet. So how do you see yourself?
S: I think of myself more as an archeologist in time. My assignments are studying people and events of the past and present. The future is murky … the sequences unclear … no, I’m an archeologist with time right now.
Dr. N: Where did your studies really begin in this field?
S: When my class was assembled for training at the temple.
Dr. N: How many souls are in your class?
S: There are six of us … (pause, adding) I didn’t know anyone before we got there.
Dr. N: Obidom, tell me about your initial training. Certainly, this must be clear in your mind.
S: I was sent to the world of Galath. It is a physical world similar to the geography of Earth. This world once had a great civilization, highly technical, and the Galathians were able to travel to other planets, which led to their undoing. Galath now has no highly intelligent life forms.
Dr. N: I don’t understand why you were sent to a dead world?
S: It’s not dead as much as vacant. When we arrived for training we assumed a transparent form which resembled the humanoid appearance of the old Galathians. (laughs)
Dr. N: Tell me about them.
S: I was just thinking… they were yellowish-green people, very tall and willow)’, without apparent joints … they had large, multi-faceted insect eyes …
Dr. N: What were they like as a people?
S: The Galathians were wise but foolish—like the rest of us. They came to believe in their invincibility.
Dr. N: But what is the purpose of coming here? Isn’t everything gone?
S: Don’t you see? Their timelines still exist. We are here to practice intersecting with the old history of this place. This is kind of an exotic world with beat-up space platforms still circling the planet. On theground there are huge spheres of habitation which are now empty and falling apart… plants growing in their ancient halls of learning, decaying vestiges of this once-great civilization are scattered about…
Dr. N: Just what do you and your five classmates do, Obidom?
S: We beam out our energy … and float through the corridors of their past time. One of the teachers helps us adjust our vibrations to intersect with certain periods of Galathian history. It is fragmentary because of our lack of skill… but certain scenes of their power are vivid.
Dr. N: So nothing of the past is ever really lost?
S: No, although the Galathians are gone, everything they did, in a sense, still lives … their triumphs … their decline … we can study their mistakes. I can retrieve people talking at certain moments … what they were thinking before they were conquered by another race and assimilated into their culture away from here. The Galathians had a musical language which flows around their broken ships of space and deserted streets.
Dr. N: What is your ultimate goal, Obidom?
S: When I become proficient I will serve as an advisor for the planners who wish to design certain situations for people … help the library researchers … assist in coordinating selections in the sphere of life (i.e., the Ring)—that sort of thing.
Dr. N: Obidom, I have a personal question for you. If I was a soul with some time off between lives, could I come back to my hometown as it existed when I was a boy and see myself again with my family and friends in scenes from the past? I don’t mean re- creating all this in the spirit world, but actually coming back to Earth in a disembodied state, as you did on Galath.
S: (smiles) Sure … although you might need some help with a talented teacher before you got the hang of it. Just don’t expect to do any tinkering around with the original to make alterations, (sardonically) Remember, you would be a ghost.
Free Will
At one of my lectures in Vancouver, B.C., a distraught woman rose and cried out loudly, “You New Age gurus tell us on one hand we have free will to make choices in our life and on the other that we are predestined to follow a certain plan because of past life karma. Which is it? I have no free will in my life because I am at the mercy of forces over which I have no control. My life is one of sorrow.” After my talk I sat down next to this woman for a few minutes and learned that her nineteen-year-old son had recently been killed on a motorcycle.
People have the idea that free will and destiny are opposing forces. They do not realize that destiny represents the sum of our deeds over thousands of years in a multitude of incarnations. In all these lives we had freedom of choice. Our current life represents all past experiences both pleasant and unpleasant, and so we are the product of all our for- me choices. Add to this the fact that we may have deliberately placed ourselves in situations that test how we will react to events in our current life, which are not perceived by the conscious mind. This too involves personal choices. We occupy a particular body for many reasons. The young motorcycle rider, by his mother’s own admission, lived for speed and essentially got a high from the dangers of his obsession.
Because my last section on time opened the door to future probabilities and possibilities, it is appropriate to examine the ramifications of free will a little further. Reincarnation would mean nothing if all life was predetermined. In my remarks about timelines, I suggested that the future may exist in many realities. People who have premonitions about the future may be right or wrong. If someone saw themselves being killed in a certain place and time and it didn’t happen, this potential causality could mean it was only the most dire of alternative possibilities.
An argument for determinism, as opposed to free will, is that one Source, or a collective group of lesser divinities, is responsible for planet Earth being populated with humans who suffer from disease, pain, hunger and fear. We live in a world of earthquakes, hurricanes, floods, fires, and other natural disasters over which we have no control. I have often said that Earth is considered by souls to be a very difficult school. The great lesson of Earth is to overcome both planetary and private destructive forces in life, grow strong from the effort, and move on.
To a great extent we come equipped with what we need to take care of ourselves. Karma may at times seem punitive, but there is justice and balance which we may not recognize in our sorrow. Fear arises when we separate ourselves from our spiritual power. We knew many of the challenges in advance of our life and chose them for good reasons. Accidents involving our bodies are not considered to be accidental by the soul, as I have tried to show in many cases, such as case 62 with the woman from Amarillo who was shot to death. The sheer will of our true Self has the power to rise in opposition to our weakness in character, especially during adversity. We have the freedom to remake our lives after any catastrophe if we are willing to take the responsibility to do so.
More important than the events that test us in life is our reaction to these events and how we handle the consequences. This is the primary reason for conscious amnesia. I have indicated that the soul is not usually shown all the alternatives to probable future events in the life to come. There are good reasons for this practice despite spontaneous spiritual memory recall, which exists with some people. Amnesia allows for free will and self-determination without the constraints of unconscious flashback memories about what we viewed in the screening room. While the scenes presented to us covering our next life are selective, my cases have shown we will be given the opportunity to review all the major alternatives after the life is over. I have a short but very graphic example of free will that reveals how even discarnate souls can be surprised by a sudden decision which can change the probable outcome in life.
I had a client who was killed at the Battle of Gettysburg in 1863 as a newly recruited Union soldier. His name was John and he lived in a small community near Gettysburg. Although just sixteen, John and his sweetheart, Rose, had begun to talk of marriage in the future. The night before the three-day battle began, a Union officer rode into John’s area looking for a young non-combatant who could ride a horse well to deliver dispatches. John had no plans to enlist in the war because of his age and the fact he was needed on his mother’s farm. The Union officer found John and hurriedly explained his urgency, promising that John’s enlistment would end when the battle ended. John was a fine horseman and he impulsively agreed to ride for the Union because “I did not want to miss out on a chance for the grand adventure.” He had to leave immediately without saying goodbye to anyone. John was killed the next day.
Even as he floated above his body, John could not believe he was seeing himself lying on the ground dead. Upon returning to his spirit group, John was met by Rose—that portion of her essence she had not taken to Earth. At the moment Rose saw John she cried out, “Why are you back here? We were supposed to be married!” These soulmates quickly realized that John had abruptly chosen a path that deviated from his probable life. Even so, each path has karmic benefits of some sort, as was the case with John’s brief Army experience.
I asked this client if he had been shown scenes in the screening room of what was going to happen at Gettysburg. He replied, “No, I accepted what they showed me up to the age of sixteen because I knew they had good reasons to reveal only what I needed to know before that life. I have faith in the decisions of my guides.” John, the boy soldier, was not shown the possibility of his death at Gettysburg and this is very typical with such cases. Yet what about those cases where an untimely death is such a high probability in life that there is a necessity for the planners to give us the opportunity to volunteer for these bodies as a matter of personal benefit from the experience?
I know past life regressionists who have had numerous cases of heroic souls who volunteered to participate in the holocaust in Nazi Germany. I certainly have. Perhaps this is because so many of these souls from the death camps are now living new lives in America. There are options for all kinds of disasters. For the bad ones, sometimes souls are prepared for what lies ahead for them by attending pre-life rehearsals, as illustrated by this statement from a client:
I remember passing by a large group of souls in a preparation class who were gathered in an amphitheater structure. They were all listening to a speaker tell them about the value of life even though they were only going to Earth for a short time. They had all volunteered to be in some sort of disaster where they would be killed together. They were told to get mentally prepared and to make the most out of the time they had and that if they wished their next lives could be much longer.
Case 64
This is a case of euthanasia involving a subject named Sandy. She provided me with another example of an instance where a death scene was shown to the principals of a future life. As is so often true with souls who must witness their death in advance of a life, volunteering is part of the contract. During my intake interview, I learned that Sandy was closely bonded to her brother, Keith, and that they were members of a large family. As his older sister, she had taken care of him like a mother while they were growing up. Keith was hot-headed and in his teenage years he lived on the ragged edge, driving fast cars and getting into numerous scrapes with the law. Sandy told me Keith lived as though he had a death wish. She added that Keith had hurt some people along the way with a capricious life style, but he had a good heart and his zest for living each day to its fullest was contagious.
Sandy always had a premonition her brother would die young. Keith was diagnosed with Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis (ALS) at age twenty-seven and died two years later. ALS is a degenerative disease of motor movements that progresses into muscle atrophy within a couple of years. Toward the end, many patients must be on a respirator to breathe and they receive large doses of morphine to combat agonizing pain.
When Sandy reached her spirit group during our session, we discovered brother and sister were companion souls. Keith was the fun-loving prankster in their group and over many previous centuries he had been rather careless of others’ feelings. In consultations with his guide and members of the group, Keith recognized it was essential that he learn humility in order to advance. Being a soul of temerity, Keith asked for a life where he would be given a potent challenge toward acquiring humility rather than have this lesson strung out over many lives. He was warned that accelerated lives can be very rough. Keith said he was ready. It was a bitter pill in the Ring to discover he would have to volunteer for an athletic body which would be immobilized by ALS. Sandy said that there was a point in the life selection room where her brother almost backed out. I will pick up her narrative at this place in our session.
Dr. N: Please tell me as much as you can about Keith’s reaction to the body he was offered.
S: (solemnly) He was shown the worst—his body before and after the illness struck. How his independence would be taken away to make him dependent upon us. They kept nothing from him. Keith saw in the beginning of the disease there would be much self-pity and remorse, then terrible anger, but if he fought he would learn.
Dr. N: (switching back and forth from current time to the spirit world with Sandy) And did he learn?
S: Oh, yes. Near the end Keith grew calm, accepting and appreciative of what we did for him.
Dr. N: Do you have anything you would like to explain about how Keith prepared for this life with you?
S: (after a long pause my client’s face takes on a look of acquiescence) I will tell you. It will be good to talk about this… I have told no one before, (begins to cry and I work on keeping her in focus)
Dr. N: We don’t have to do this if it is too painful.
S: No, I want to. (takes a deep breath) As we prepared to come forward into this life, I was to be the oldest child in our family so I came first. We had a long discussion just before my time. Keith said he was prepared to suffer but when he reached the point where he was totally incapacitated—when he couldn’t take any more—I was to shut off his life support system and free him.
Dr. N: You were going to do this in a hospital?
S: We planned for that in the spirit world but then, thank God, he was sent home during his last seven weeks and that made our plan easier.
Dr. N: Is this about pain? Certainly Keith must have had pain killers.
S: Morphine can only do so much. The last seven weeks were terrible even with the respirator and pain killers. His lungs were so affected he could not move or talk near the end.
Dr. N: I understand. Tell me about the plan you and Keith devised in the spirit world before your lives began.
S: (sighs) We began our drill by creating a bed and the life support system Keith saw in the screening room. He had every detail in his mind. Then we practiced because I thought I would be dodging doctors and nurses. I worked with the machine and studied the advance warning signs of his illness. In the drill, we went over the signals Keith would give me which would show he was ready to be released from his suffering. Finally, he asked for my promise to stay strong and let nothing deter me in the final moments. I gave him this promise willingly.
After Sandy regained full consciousness we discussed her role in the death of her brother. She said when there was a particular smell, or “death odor,” from Keith’s throat area, she knew it was time to get ready. I should add that this body sign did not necessarily mean Keith was going to die right away. Almost without thinking, Sandy spoke in her brother’s ear, “Keith, are you ready to go?” Then came the prearranged signal. At this moment Keith squeezed his eyes open and shut three times for the “yes” response. Calmly, she detached Keith’s life support system. The doctor came to the house later, found the life support system reattached, and pronounced Keith dead.
For the rest of the day, she felt no guilt. That night, lying in bed, a doubt crept into Sandy’s mind about her automatic reactions, and she questioned herself. After tossing and turning she finally fell into a fitful sleep. Soon Keith came to her in a dream. Smiling with gratitude, he conveyed to Sandy that she had done everything perfectly and that he loved her. A few weeks later Sandy was meditating and had a vision of her brother sitting on a bench talking with “two monks dressed in robes.” Keith turned, laughed at her, and said, “Hang in there, Sis!”
To a devout religionist, this man’s life did not belong to himself, but to God. While it is true that we are given our bodies by an act of divine creation, everyone’s life belongs ultimately to them. The right to die is a hotly debated topic in legal circles today, especially as it pertains to doc- tor-assisted suicide with the terminally ill. It has been said that if death is the final act of life’s drama, and we want that last act to reflect our own convictions during life, we should have that right regardless of the reli- gious or moral convictions of a majority. The opposing view is that if life is a gift, of which we are the custodians, we have certain moral duties despite our own feelings. Knowing what I do about how our souls choose life, with the free will to make changes during that life, I believe we clearly have the right to choose death when no quality of life remains and there is no possibility of recovery. It is not intended that a degradation of our humanity be prolonged. The next case provides a more conventional representation of free will in terms of a full life.
Case 65
Emily was a woman in her late forties who came to see me because she was troubled by her purpose in life. During the years she was raising her children, Emily worked as a part-time secretary. Dissatisfied with this role, she returned to school and qualified as a nurse with an interest in geriatrics. During training, she discovered she liked treating the elderly because they were more inclined to talk about their faith. Emily had been attracted to spirituality all her life. She told me that her upbringing by a strict, rather cruel and overly pious father had turned her toward less-structured avenues of spirituality.
Although she had become a registered nurse some two years before our meeting, Emily had not worked in her new profession because of self-doubts about her competence. Due to her happy marriage with a supportive husband it had been easy just to slip into volunteer work without pay, pressure or responsibility.
As I moved Emily rapidly through her most immediate past life in the early stages of our session we discovered her name had been Sister Grace, a nun for the Sisters of Mercy in New England. The Order wanted her to accept the position of Mother Superior but she refused due to her fears of leadership and feelings of unworthiness. Indeed, a later overview from the spirit world of Emily’s other recent past lives attested to a pattern of lives as priests and nuns in cloistered environments. She remarked, “I was able to serve God without getting too involved with the troubles of outside society.”
I am often asked if the planners force certain lives on us for particular reasons. This case is a good example of just how indulgent our guides can be until we are finally ready for greater challenges. In the past 500 years, all of Emily’s lives had been in religious orders in one form or another. She was comfortable with these lives and unwilling to make major changes. This past behavior represents a defining element of her confusion about life today.
The dialogue for this case opens at the second council meeting after Emily’s life as Sister Grace, which means she was in preparation for her current life. If I discover there is to be a second council meeting between lives, it will usually take place just before we go to the Ring, and I know the life to come is likely to involve an opportunity for significant change. Both the type and number of Elders who appear at these second meetings depend on the kinds of lives and bodies to be presented.
Dr. N: When you are at this second council meeting is the makeup of the panel the same as the first one?
S: No, only two appear—my chairperson and a member who seems to have taken a special interest in what I will be offered in the next life.
Dr. N: Well, since we have already talked about your first council meeting following the life as Sister Grace, just give me a sense of what is now going on before you go to the place of life selection.
S: They want to know if I have thought long and hard about being in such a rut over the last 500 years and if I am ready to get involved with mainstream society.
Dr. N: Would they be upset with you if you returned to a religious life once again?
S: No, they are too wise for this sort of thing. They would just know I wasn’t ready for a new undertaking yet. They are very gentle with me. I am reminded that my self-discipline and faith are to be admired and I learned a great deal, but that too much repetition over many lives can hold me back.
Dr. N: Did you take lots of risks before the last 500 years—before all those religious lives?
S: (laughs) I had been on a different path for a long time. I was … excessive … let’s say celibacy was not on my agenda.
Dr. N: So, after being Sister Grace, it was time to bring the next series of life choices back to some sort of center—to bring balance into your existence on Earth?
S: Yes, and I tell them I am ready for a change.
Note: My use of time shifts at council meetings was discussed in chapter 6. With this case, I now shift forward to scenes in the life selection room to obtain a better therapeutic framework to help Emily. What follows is a portion of the cognitive reframing 1 used, which began with the venting and identification of personal conflicts. It is my intention that this hypnosis subject will recognize the opportunity her spiritual planners have given her to move forward into new ventures with greater self-awareness.
Dr. N: We are now in the place where you are reviewing your current body as Emily for the first time. Are you alone or with someone?
S: That second council member is with me and I feel the presence of another … who I can’t see. (probably a coordinating Timemaster)
Dr. N: (after briefly discussing other body choices) Why are you attracted to the body of Emily?
S: I go inside a screen to feel the wavelengths of this brain … and how our mutual vibrations will blend. It is a good meld … between us… her talents and sensitivity are very compatible with me.
Dr. N: (reinforcement) So you can see the planners have your best interests at heart.
S: Oh, yes.
Dr. N: What do you see as the most significant aspect of your future life as Emily?
S: (long pause) This is hard for me to answer. I see her conflicts— they are my own—being torn between doing one thing and wanting another kind of career. I do not see myself as a nurse.
Dr. N: Since you are qualified now to be a nurse, could it be that you are shown more but at this moment your spiritual memory of these details is not revealed because the planners don’t want to interfere with your free will to make a decision at such an important crossroad?
S: Maybe, I’m not sure, (pause) Ah … we don’t have to be shown occupations … one can see … moods … attitudes and feelings at different times in the sphere of life with a particular body.
Dr. N: Good, I want you to ride with those feelings about this body you occupy and tell me how you can thrive as a person.
S: (another long pause) By nurturing people.
Dr. N: And what does that tell you?
S: (thinking, but no response)
Dr. N: And in the sphere of life selection, do you think the insight you now have about Emily is sufficient for you to accept this person and move forward to make a contribution in life?
S: Yes.
At this juncture in our session, Emily realized that there were elements of synchronicity in reviewing these past events in the Ring with me at this time and having free will to change her life. Some trips to the Ring give us more detail about a future life than others. Emily saw it was no accident she was assigned to an overly strict religious household as a child, which would drive her away from old, conditioned behavior patterns into new paths of thought. She saw that her freedom to make new choices and rely on her gut feelings gave her permission to under- take the search.
Uncertainty in life is frequently an outgrowth of former life patterns and obsessions. Emily’s old inner fear of not wanting to accept responsible positions within the church because she felt unworthy surfaced again in her current professional life. While the door was opening to her in the field of medicine in a profound way, it also left her confused. Why did it seem both right and wrong at the same time? Emily had become mired in her plans for a midlife course correction over unconscious self-doubts which had peaked in her last life as Sister Grace.
Within six months of our meeting I received a letter from Emily explaining that she had taken a job with a nursing home and loved it. This particular facility wanted nurses who would not shy away from spiritual counseling to assist patients in dealing with feelings of helplessness, loneliness and depression. Emily wrote that she felt spiritually fulfilled. I don’t deserve much credit for shedding light on this situation because Emily had already started on her quest before our session. She just needed a nudge to keep going. Today, nearing age fifty, she has broken free.
This case is not presented to denigrate traditional religion or religious orders by implying that Emily’s soul had somehow wasted 500 years of incarnation time by taking roles of priests and nuns. Those were beneficial years of acting on her spiritual calling. Today those same callings are satisfied on a different road. Change is a hallmark of karma through the use of free will in making course corrections into unfamiliar waters. Searching for who you really are is getting in touch with your inner Self and bringing passion and meaning into what you do in life.
Souls of the Young
The Loss of a Child
The Ring represents a cycle of life, death and rebirth. For the soul, children play a vital role in their regeneration of life. What are the spiritual implications when this highly functional organism dies before it hardly got started? There have been grieving parents who have written me inquiring about the meanings surrounding the untimely death of their children and these letters are always difficult to answer. Those of us who have not gone through the agony of losing a child can only imagine the pain suffered by these parents. Some people who lose a child jump to the wrong conclusion that their terrible loss is the result of a karmic debt they must pay because of some transgression in a former life involving child abuse.
If the lost child was a teenager, or older, the karmic forces that led to the death customarily relate directly to the young person and not so much to the parent. Moreover, even when the death of a younger child does karmically involve the parent, this lesson does not automatically mean the parent was a perpetrator of mistreatment to children in a former life. The lesson could have been the result of many other elements, including that of indirect action. One of my clients who came to me about a year after the death of her eight-year-old daughter related the following story to me during her session.
I was a wealthy matron in London in the nineteenth century. I paid little attention to the suffering of the young waifs on the street around my townhouse. I callously disregarded their plight because they were not my children; to my mind they were the responsibility of their parents or the state and had nothing to do with me. I looked the other way even though I had plenty of money to support an orphanage and a safe house for young unwed mothers nearby. I knew these services were struggling to make ends meet and I did nothing. Between lives I decided to correct my superficial ways. I agreed to experience the anguish of loving my own child and having her taken away. God, what pain, but I am learning compassion.
Information about the soul and infant mortality has come to me over many years which may provide some solace to mothers who feel remorse over both voluntary and involuntary actions involving the loss of an unborn child. This would include both issues of abortion and miscarriages. Please keep in mind during my review of this material that the karmic cause and effect relating to earlier past life incidents are particular to each parent-child relationship. My intent is to give the reader some general interpretations about the young that I have acquired from the reports of many subjects.
I will begin by stating that I have never had a single case where a soul joined the fetus in the first trimester. The reason that souls do not begin their complex merger with a fetus under three months is quite simply because there is not enough brain tissue for them to work with at this stage. I have a dear friend who is an obstetric nurse at a major hospital in Oregon. When she heard me make this statement on a national radio show she called to say, “Michael, why won’t you let these little ones have their souls?” She was clearly upset with me over the question of who does and who does not have a soul in place if a baby is not going to term. I began by saying something to the effect that I don’t make the rules, so please don’t kill the messenger. I suspect this caregiver of babies, who has seen many who did not survive and leave her hospital, felt that from the moment of conception a fetus with a soul identity would somehow receive more spiritual comforting than otherwise.
I told my friend there is a universal consciousness of love surrounding all unborn babies. The creative force of existence is never separated from any form of living energy. A fetus can be alive as an individual entity without yet having an immortal soul identity. If a mother aborts her child in the first trimester, there are loving spiritual forces hovering nearby to comfort this mother and watch over the child. I have been told that even in cases of miscarriages and abortions between four and nine months, souls can be in place to support both the child and mother in a more direct physical manner with energy. Souls know in advance the probabilities of the baby going to term.
For example, if a pregnant woman loses her child because she fell down a stairway, say in the seventh month, it was not absolutely preordained she would take this fall. There was also the possibility on that particular day, at a certain moment in time, she might have decided at the last minute not to descend the stairway. However, if a young, unmarried girl becomes pregnant and decides to abort her child because it is unwanted, the chances are high this was a significant prob- able event of choice. These two interpretations of causality are, of course, hypothetical. Nevertheless, various scenarios of significant events in our life are known in advance when we choose certain bodies in the Ring. All have karmic implications and purpose for us.
Souls are not assigned to babies at random. When a mother loses her child for whatever reason, I have found the odds are quite high that the soul of this baby will return again to the same mother with her next child. If this mother does not bear another child, the soul may return to another close member of the family because that was the original intent. When a life is short, souls call these filler lives and they too have purpose for the parent. Here is an illustration:
I joined a fetus at four months for a three-month existence. During this time my mother needed to feel my soul energy to know that giving and losing life is very profound. I did not wish to let the sadness of losing me prevent her from having the courage to try again. We knew this fetus was not going to term, but there was a good probability of a second child after me and I wanted that partnership with her. She doesn’t realize that I was once her son and now I am her daughter. I think I was able to soften her bitterness and grief by sending my mother comforting thoughts in the stillness of all the nights between her two pregnancies.
As I mentioned in the section on soulmates in chapter 7, when babies and young children die their souls typically do not rise into the spirit world alone. Spirit guides, caretakers of the young, or a member of the child’s soul group are frequently involved with meeting these souls right at ground level. If a parent is killed at the same time as their small child, they stay together, as the following quote demonstrates:
After my son and I were killed by bandits (Sweden, 1842), I comforted him as we rose together. Because he was so young, he was disoriented and confused at first. I held my son close and told him how much I loved him and that we were going home. As we rose together, I said that we would soon be met by our friends and then parted for a while, before being reunited once again.
New Body-Soul Partnerships
The process of a soul joining with an unborn child is an appropriate end to the case histories I have presented in this book. The soul is now ready to embark on another reincarnation adventure with hopes and expectations for a fresh new role in life. The partnership between the physical and etheric minds that usher a whole human being into the world can be smooth or rocky in the early adjustment stages of childhood. Even so, it is the end result and how we finish the course we traveled that counts the most.
During our lifetime, the soul and the body are so intertwined that the duality of expression may confuse us as to who we really are. The complexities of this association between body and soul represent an alliance of long evolutionary development going back perhaps to the late Pleistocene era when hominoids on this planet were originally considered suitable for soul colonization. The oldest divisions of our modern brain still remain in place as survival mechanisms. Some people, such as the soul Kliday in case 36, acknowledge touching primitive sections of the brain when they enter a fetus. These are the areas that control our visceral, physical reactions, which are instinctual and emotional rather than intellectual. Some of my clients have said that a few brains they have joined seemed more primitive than all the others.
Ego has been defined as Self, conceived as a spiritual substance upon which experience is superimposed. This psyche would define the soul, but there is an ego of a kind relegated to the brain which experiences the external world through the senses governing action and reaction. It is this functional organism—created before the soul arrived—that the soul must join in a mother. In a sense, there are two egos at work here and this is most evident to me during regressions when I take my sub- jects to the Ring and later when they join a fetus. It is in the fetus where the body-soul partnership really begins.
The soul and brain of a new baby appear to begin their association as two separate and distinct entities and become one mind. Some people are bothered that my two-entity position, or duality of body and spirit, means that while the immortal character of the soul lives on, the temporary personality of the body dies. Yet it was the soul, in concert with the mind of a body, which created a unique personality of a single Self. Although the physical organism of the body will die, the soul who occupied that body never forgets the host which allowed them to expe- rience Earth in a particular time and place. We have seen how souls can remember and re-create who they were in certain timelines.
Every physical body has its own unique design and the concepts, ideas and judgments of any human mind arc directly related to the soul who is occupying that body. I endeavored to show in chapters 3 and 4 how some body-soul combinations work more efficiently than others. Physiologists do not know why intense emotion may cause irrational behavior in one person and logical coping actions in another. For me, the answer lies in the soul. When the body-soul partnership is under- way in the fetus of a client’s current body, 1 do hear evaluations from many of them about brain circuitry being fine-tuned or a bit jumbled in the new baby. The remarks from a level V soul about entering a body are instructive in terms of attachments:
No two brains are constructed in precisely the same way. When I initially enter the womb of my mother, I touch the brain gently. I flow in . . . seeking . . . probing . . . searching. It is like osmosis. I know immediately if this brain is going to be smooth or rough sailing for our mutual communication. I will receive my mother’s emotional feelings during pregnancy more than her clear thoughts. That’s how I know if the baby is wanted or not, and this makes a difference in the baby getting a good or bad start.
When I enter the fetus of an unwanted baby, I can make a positive difference by energy engagement with this child. When I was a young soul, 1 would get caught up with the alienation of a parent and both the child and I felt a separation. I have been working with babies for thousands of years and I can handle whatever sort of child they give me so we are both fulfilled by coming together. I have too much work to do in life to be slowed down by a body match which does not happen to be perfect for me.
When a soul reaches level III, most are able to make rapid adjustments once inside a fetus. A subject told me bluntly, “When a complex, highly advanced soul combines with a sluggish brain, it is like hitching a race horse to a plow horse.” Usually my clients express this sentiment about bodies in a more deferential manner. There are karmic reasons for all body-soul matches. Also, a high IQ is no indication of an advanced soul. It is not a low IQ but the disturbed, irrational mind that poses problems for the less-experienced souls.
As for body matches with the soul, our options are offered to us in good faith for a variety of life designs. Body choices in the Ring are never used to trap us into something unsuitable for our development. The sphere of life selection is not a department store fire sale of merchandise. The planners have no interest in sandbagging some unsuspecting soul with a “poor-quality” body. There is purpose for both egos behind every body-soul match. While the body delights the soul as a means of both physical and mental expression, it is capable of bringing great pain. The lesson of this merger is to forge a harmonious unification of body and soul so that they function as one unit. I have two perspectives that illustrate this collaboration:
I am a volatile soul with hasty inclinations and I prefer aggressive bodies with temperaments which complement my own inclinations. We call this sort of combination of mirror images a double-double. I can never slow down. I must admit the quiet bodies with noncombative minds do calm me, but then I tend to become very lazy and complacent.
I am comfortable with emotionally cold hosts. I also love analytical minds so we can take our time before commit- ting to things. Inside Jane it's as though I'm on a roller- coaster ride. She is so reckless, jumping into situations— I mean I try to drag her back—but she gets so out of control she brings us a lot of pain. Yet, there is much joy too—it's all overwhelming, but what a wild ride!
Certain body matches do produce lives of frustration and very difficult challenges. However, only a couple of times in my entire career have I ever had a soul who admitted they asked to be replaced in a fetus it found impossible to adjust to in any way. In both cases, another soul took its place before the eighth month. A prenatal exchange due to incompatibility is an extremely rare occurrence because this is what the life selection room is all about.
In chapter 3, where 1 discussed people who engage in wrongdoing, I explained how our inner soul Self might not be in harmony with our body. I also said that no soul is innately evil when it joins a fetus. Still, the soul does not enter with a blank slate either. A soul’s immortal char- acter is influenced by all the attributes and temperament of the brain, which challenges the soul’s maturity. I have said there are souls who are more susceptible than others in falling prey to negative influences in life. Most of the cases in this book, reflect souls who struggle in opposition or work in harmonious conjunction with their bodies. Souls combating the need to control may not blend well with a body ego disposed to confrontation. On the other hand, a cautious, low-energy soul could choose a rather passive, introverted body temperament in order to institute boldness in concert with its host.
When a soul joins with a new baby, 1 can be fairly sure the partnership will address both the soul’s shortcomings and a body-mind who needs this particular soul. The planners choose bodies for us which are intended to combine our character defects with certain body tempera- ments to produce specific personality combinations. From clients who are medical doctors and physiologists, I have been given brief anatomical glimpses about souls entering the developing brain of a fetus. Case 66 is an example. Posthypnotic suggestions have enabled subjects in these professions to sketch out simplified diagrams of what they were trying to say about these linkages while under hypnosis. This has helped my understanding.
Case 66
Dr. N: I would like to know if the initial transition into the fetus is always about the same for you?
S: No, it is not. Even though I might have had x-ray vision into the mind of the child during life selection, my entry can still be ragged.
Dr. N: Give me your most recent example of a difficult entry.
S: Three lives ago, I joined with a very stiff, unreceptive brain. It felt my presence was invasive. This was unusual because most of my host bodies accept my presence. I’m ordinarily considered to be a new roommate.
Dr. N: Are you saying this particular host body felt you were an alien presence that it should reject?
S: No, it was a dull mind of dense energy pockets. My arrival was an intrusion on its lack of mental activity … there was … isolation between compartments of the brain … creating resistance to … communication. Lethargic minds require more effort on my part. They resist change.
Dr. N: Change of what?
S: Of my being in its space, requiring some reaction to deal with this fact. I caused this mind to think and it was not a curious mind. I began pushing buttons and found it did not want to be summoned by me.
Dr. N: What did you expect?
S: From my review in the sphere (the Ring), I saw the end result of an adult mind but I didn’t see all the difficulties with the baby’s mind … when it was new.
Dr. N: I see, and you are saying this mind considered your intrusion as a threat?
S: No, only a nuisance. Eventually, I was accepted and the child and I adapted to each other.
Dr. N: Let’s go back to your statement about pushing buttons. Please explain to me what this means to you with a standard entry into the fetus of your choice?
S: When I enter a developing brain 1 am accustomed to joining around the fourth month—our guides give us some latitude here—but I never enter after the sixth month. When I enter the womb of the mother I create a red light of tight energy and direct it up and down the spinal column of the baby—following a network of neurons to the brain.
Dr. N: Why do you do that?
S: This tells me about the efficiency of thought transmission—the sensory relays …
Dr. N: Then, what do you do?
S: Play my red light around the dura mater—the outer layer of the brain … gently …
Dr. N: Why red light?
S: This allows me to be … especially sensitive to the physical feelings of this new person. I meld my energy warmth to the gray-blues of brain matter. Before I get there, the brain is simply gray. What I am doing is turning on the lights in a dark room with a tree in the middle.
Dr. N: You lost me. Explain about the tree.
S: (intensely) The tree is the stem. I park myself between the two hemispheres of the brain to get a ringside seat as to how this system will function. Then I move around the branches of the tree to investigate the circuitry. I want to know how dense the energy is in the fibers around the wheel of the cerebral cortex folding around the thalamus … I want to learn how this brain thinks and senses things.
Dr. N: How important is energy density or the lack of it in the brain?
S: A mind that has excessive density in certain areas means there are blockages which inhibit the bridges between efficient neuron activity. I want to make some adjustments in these road blocks with my energy if I can—you know—while the brain is still forming.
Dr. N: You can make a difference in how the brain develops?
S: (laughs at me) Of course! Did you think souls are passengers on a train? I stimulate these areas ever so slightly.
Dr. N: (deliberately obtuse) Well, I thought you and the baby … are both in miniature by the way you exhibit intelligence in the beginning.
S: (laughs) Not until birth.
Dr. N: Are you saying that you can improve brain wave function with all these activities you have described?
S: That is our expectation. The whole idea is matching your vibrational levels and capabilities with that of the natural rhythms of the child’s brain waves—their electrical flow, (with exuberance) I think my host bodies are grateful for my assistance in improving the speed of thought over bridges, (stops and then adds) Maybe this iswishful thinking.
Dr. N: What do you see in the future for the brain with continued evolution and the influence of souls as a stimulus?
S: Mental telepathy.
Certainly, I have had younger souls who appear to be more inactive after body entry than case 66. This is a far sight better than agitating the child by ineptness from overzealous, inexperienced souls. The average soul probes their new host for information but in a way that has been described as “tickling the child to give it pleasure.” Essentially, this is an important time for integration between body and soul with the mother also mentally entering into this process of getting acquainted. By no means is the seat of the soul limited to the brain. Soul energy radiates throughout the whole body of the child.
Case 66 is a medical doctor. My next case comes from a non-medically oriented client about the union of two entities to form one whole as a new life begins. Each soul has its own preferences about when and how they wish to enter the fetus. The following case gives us an indication of the procedures used by a very considerate, evolved soul.
Case 67
Dr. N: Tell me what it is like to enter the mind of a baby and when you usually enter.
S: In the beginning I think of it as a betrothal. I entered my current body in the eighth month. I prefer to enter on the late side when the brain is larger so I have more to work with during the coupling.
Dr. N: Isn’t there a downside to entering late? I mean, you are then dealing with a more independent individual.
S: Some of my friends feel that way, I don’t. I want to be able to talk with the child when there is more mutual awareness.
Dr. N: (being dense to elicit a response) Talk—talk to a fetus—what are you saying …?
S: (laughs at me) Of course we interact with the child. Dr. N: Take me through this slowly. Who says what first?
S: The child may say, “Who are you?” I answer, “A friend who has
come to play and be a part of you.”
Dr. N: (with deliberate provocation) Isn’t that deceitful? You haven’t come to play. You have come to occupy this mind.
S: Oh, please! Who have you been talking to? This mind and my soul were created to be together. Do you think I am some sort of foreign intruder on Earth? I have joined with babies who welcomed me as if I were expected.
Dr. N: There are souls who have had a different experience.
S: Look, I know souls who are clumsy. They go in like bulls in a china shop with their over-eagerness to get started with an agenda. Too much frontal energy all at once sets up resistance.
Dr. N: In your current lifetime, was the child at all anxious about your entry?
S: No, they don’t know enough yet to be anxious. I begin by caressing the brain. I am able to immediately project warm thoughts of love and companionship. Most of the babies just accept me as being part of themselves. A few hold back—like my current body.
Dr. N: Oh, really? What was unusual about this fetus?
S: It wasn’t a big deal. Its thoughts were, “Now that you are here, who am I going to be?”
Dr. N: I think that’s a very big deal. Essentially, the child is acknowledging that its identity depends on you.
S: (patiently) The child has begun to ask itself, “Who am I?” Some children are more aware of this than others. A few are resistant because, to them, we are an irritation to their inert beginnings— like a pearl in an oyster.
Dr. N: So you don’t feel the child senses it is being forced to give up something of its individuality?
S: No, we have come as souls to give the child … depth of personality. Its being is enhanced by our presence. Without us they would largely function as unripened fruit.
Dr. N: But does the child understand any of this before birth?
S: It only knows that I want to be friends so we can do things together. We begin by communicating with each other with simple things such as an uncomfortable body position in the mother’s womb. There have been times when the umbilical cord was wrapped around the neck of the baby and I have calmed the child where otherwise it might have squirmed and made things worse.
Dr. N: Please continue with how you assist the baby.
S: I prepare the child for birth, which is going to be a shock when it happens. Imagine being forced out of a warm, comfortable, secure womb into the bright lights of a hospital room … the noise … having to breathe air… being handled. The child appreciates my help because my primary goal now is to combat fear by soothing the brain with assurances that everything will be fine.
Dr. N: I wonder what it was like for children before souls came to help them?
S: The brain was too primitive then to conceptualize the trauma of birthing. There was little awareness. (Laughs) Of course I wasn’t around in those days.
Dr. N: Are you able to calm anxious mothers in any way?
S: We must be proficient. During much of my existence I had little or no effect on my mothers if they were frightened, sad or angry during pregnancy. You must be able to align your energy vibrations with both the child and the mother’s natural body rhythms. You have to harmonize three sets of wave levels—which includes your own—to soothe the mother. I might even have the baby kick the mother to let her know we are all right.
Dr. N: Then at birth, I supposed the hard work of the merger is over?
S: To be honest, the merger isn’t complete yet for me. I talk to my body as a second entity up to the age of six. It is better not to force a full meld right away. We play games as two people tor a while.
Dr. N: I have noticed a lot of young children talk to themselves as if they were with an imaginary playmate. Is that their soul?
S: (grinning) That’s right, although our guides enjoy playing with us as young children too. And have you also noticed the elderly talking to themselves a lot? They are preparing for separation at the other end in their own way.
Dr. N: In general how do you feel about coming back to Earth in life after life?
S: As a gift. This is such a muhifaceted planet. Sure, this place brings heartache, but it is delightful too and incredibly heautiful. The human body is a marvel of form and structure. 1 never cease to be awed by each new body, the many different ways I can express myself in them, especially in the most important way—love.
Our Spiritual Path
The concept of our resurrection into beings who belong in a kingdom of eternity goes far back into human antiquity. From our early origins, we have believed that life and afterlife are sustained by divine intelligence as a single, unified whole. These sentiments come from the memories of many people I have regressed to the Stone Age. For ages since then, we thought of the soul world as another state of consciousness rather than an abstract place. The afterlife was considered to be only an extension of our physical life. I believe the world is returning to those concepts, which were beautifully expressed by Spinoza, who said, “All the cosmos is a single substance of which we are a part. God is not an external manifestation, but everything that is.”
I consider such legends as Atlantis and Shangri-La as having their origins in the eternal longing we feel for recapturing a Utopia that once existed but is now lost. In the superconscious mind of every person I have ever placed in deep hypnosis lies the memory of a Utopian home. Originally, the concept of Utopia was intended to illustrate ideas, not a society. My subjects see the spirit world as a community of ideas. In this sense, the afterlife involves self-purification of thought. Beings who are still incarnating are far from perfect, as demonstrated by my cases. Nevertheless, we can justifiably think of our existence in the spirit world as Utopian because there is a universal harmony of spirit. Righeousness, honesty, humor and love are the primary foundations of our life after life.
After reading the information contained in this book, I know it must seem cruel that the Utopia of our dreams does exist within all of us but is blocked from conscious memory by amnesia. When some of these blocks are overcome through hypnosis, meditation, prayer, channeling, yoga, imagination and dreams, or a mental state reached through physical exertion, there is a sense of personal empowerment. Some 2,400 years ago, Plato wrote about reincarnation and said that souls must travel over Lethe, the River of Forgetfulness, whose waters produce a loss of memory from our true nature.
The sacred truths of our etheric history can be recovered today because we are able to circumvent the conscious mind and reach the unconscious, which was not immersed in the River of Forgetfulness. Our higher Self remembers our past triumphs and transgressions in a selective way, whispering to us across time and space. Our personal spirit guides endeavor to give us the best from both worlds, the ethereal and material. Each new baby is given a fresh start with an open future. Our spiritual masters wish to produce karmic opportunity without the constraints of our knowing those pitfalls we experienced in former lives. They become more lenient in a selective way with amnesia as we engage in self-discovery. This is our best route to wisdom.
The question has been fairly asked as to why amnesia blocks about our spiritual life have been loosened to permit research into the spirit world. I think about this issue a great deal because now in the twenty- first century I expect younger hypnotherapists to go far beyond what my generation has been able to accomplish in unlocking the spiritual mind. I feel the reasons for our ability to discover more of the mysteries about life on the other side is a direct outgrowth of living in the twentieth century. The advancement of innovative techniques in hypnosis would have to be listed as a consideration. However, I believe there are more compelling reasons why our amnesia has become less constrictive over the last thirty years. Never before has such a variety of drugs been so pervasive in the human population. These mind-altering chemicals imprison the soul within a body encumbered by a mental fog. The soul’s essence is unable to express itself through a chemically addicted mind. I feel the planners on the other side have lost patience with this aspect of human society. There are other reasons as well. As the twentieth century draws to a close we live in a frantic, rage-filled, overpopulated, environmentally degraded world. The mass destruction of our planet in the last hundred years from all sources is unequaled in human experience.
I do not have a dark vision of the future, despite my comments. It may be true that to the people who are living in an era, their time seems more decadent than the last. Yet we have made great advancements culturally, politically and economically in the last hundred years. In many ways the world is a far safer place than it was in 1950. Internationally, nations have more social conscience and commitments to work for peace than ever before in our long history of monarchies and dictatorships, which were still very much in evidence at the start of the twentieth century. What we face in the twenty-first century is the eroding of individualism and human dignity in an overcrowded society dominated by materialism. Globalization, urban sprawl and bigness is a formula for loneliness and disassociation. Many people believe in nothing but survival.
I believe the spiritual door has been opened to our immortality because to deny us this knowledge has proven to be counterproductive. In the spirit world of my experience, if something on Earth isn’t work- ing it can be changed. Amnesiac blocks were set in place with human beings to prevent preconditioned responses to certain karmic events. However, the benefits of amnesia may no longer outweigh the draw- backs of lives existing within a vacuum of chemically-induced apathy. There are too many people trying to escape from reality because they do not see their identity as having purpose or meaning. Drugs and alcohol aside, in overcrowded, high-tech societies around the world, people have an emptiness of spirit because they are ruled by their body- ego senses. They have little or no connection to their real Self. Because each of us is a unique being, different from all others, it is incumbent upon those who desire internal peace to find their own spirituality. When we totally align ourselves to belief systems based upon the experience of other people, I feel we lose something of our individuality in the process. The road to self-discovery and shaping a personal philosophy not designed by the doctrines of organizations takes effort but the rewards are great. There are many routes to this goal which begins by trusting in yourself. Camus tells us, “Both the rational and irrational lead to the same understanding. Truly, the path traveled matters little; the will to arrive is enough.”
Visions of the afterlife lie within each of us as a sanctuary while we travel the maze of Earth’s pathways. The difficulty in uncovering fragments of our eternal home is due in no small part to life’s distractions. It is not a bad thing to accept life as it is, asking no questions and assuming that in the end what is supposed to happen will happen. However, for those with a longing to know more, simple acceptance of life is totally unsatisfying. For some travelers, life’s mysteries cry out for attention, if being alive is to have any meaning.
In the search for our own path of spirituality it is wise to ask, “What sort of behavioral code do I believe in?” Some theologians suggest that nonreligious people are attempting to cut loose from moral and ethical responsibility dictated to us in scripture from a higher authority. How- ever, we are not evaluated after death by our religious associations but rather by our conduct and values. In the spirit world I am familiar with, we are measured more by what we do for others rather than ourselves. If traditional religious activity serves your purpose and provides you with spiritual sustenance, you are probably motivated by a belief in scripture and perhaps the desire for comradeship in worship. The same attractions are true with people who join metaphysical groups and derive satisfaction from following the ideas of prescribed spiritual texts with like-minded people. While such practices may be comforting and edifying for your spiritual growth, it must be recognized that these pathways do not suit everyone.
If there is no inner peace, it does not matter what sort of spiritual affiliation you have. Disengagement in life arises when we separate ourselves from our inner power by taking the position that we are all alone, without spiritual guidance, because no one upstairs is listening. 1 have great respect for people with abiding faith in something since for a large part of my life I had no solid foundation of spirituality, despite my searching. There are atheists and agnostics who take the position that since religious and spiritual knowledge cannot be based upon natural or proven evidence, it is unacceptable. Simply having faith is not truly revealed knowledge to the skeptic. I identify with these people because I was one of them. My faith in the hereafter slowly began as an outgrowth of my participation with subjects in hypnosis. This is a discipline I believed in professionally before my research discoveries. Nevertheless, my own spiritual awareness was also the result of years of personal meditation and introspection about this research.
Spiritual perception must be an individual quest or it has no meaning. We are greatly influenced by our own immediate reality, and we can act on that reality one step at a time without the necessity of seeing too far into the distance. Even steps in the wrong direction give us insight into the many paths designed to teach us. To bring the soul Self into harmony with our physical environment, we are given freedom of choice to exercise free will in the search for the reasons why we are here. On the road of life we must take responsibility for all our decisions without blaming other people for life’s setbacks that bring unhappiness.
As I mentioned, to be effective in our mission we are expected to help others on their paths whenever possible. By helping others we help ourselves. Reaching out to others is inhibited when we nurture our own uniqueness to such an extent that we become totally self-absorbed. However, being an absentee landlord in your own house makes you ineffective as a person as well. You were not given your body by a chance of nature. It was selected for you by spiritual advisors and after previewing their offerings of other host bodies, you agreed to accept the body you now have. Thus, you are not a victim of circumstance. You are entrusted with your body to be an active participant in life, not a bystander. We must not lose sight of the idea that we accepted this sacred contract of life and this means the roles we play on Earth are actually greater than ourselves. Our soul energy was created by a higher authority than we can know in our present state of development. Consequently, we must focus on who we are as a person to find that fragment of divinity within us. The only limitations to personal insight are self-imposed. If the spiritual paths of others have no relevance to you, this does not mean the way designed for your needs is nonexistent. The reason for our being who we are is a major truth in life. Where one person may find an aspect of that truth manifested to them, it will not be in the same place for another.
Essentially, we are alone with our soul, yet people who feel lonely haven’t quite found themselves. Self-discovery of the soul has to do with self-possession. The capturing of our individual essence is like falling in love. Something within you lying dormant is awakened at a point in your life by a stimulus. The soul flirts with you at first, tempting you to go further with delights that are only seen from a distance. The initial attraction of self-discovery begins with an almost playful touching of the conscious by the unconscious mind. As the intensity of wanting to fully possess our inner Self grows, we are drawn irresistibly into a more intimate connection. Knowing our soul becomes a marriage of fidelity to one’s Self. The fascinating aspect about self-discovery is that when you hear that inner voice you instantly recognize it. Based on my practice, I am convinced that everyone on this planet has a personal spiritual guide. Spirit guides speak to our inner mind if we are receptive. While some guides are more easily reached than others, each of us has the ability to call upon and be heard by these guides.
There are no accidents in life, yet people get confused by what they perceive to be randomness. It is this philosophy that works against thoughts of spiritual order. It becomes an easy next step to feel we have no control in our lives and trying to find ourselves is pointless since nothing we do matters anyway. Believing in the randomness of events negatively influences our reaction to situations and allows us to avoid thinking about explanations for them. Having a fatalistic outlook on life by saying “It’s God’s will” or even “It’s my karma” contributes to inaction and lack of purpose.
That which is meaningful in life comes in small pieces or large chunks all at one time. Self-awareness can take us beyond what we thought was our original destination. Karma is the setting in motion of those conditions on our path that foster learning. The concept of a Source orchestrating all of this need not be pretentious. The spiritual externalist waits for reunification with a Creator after death, while the internalist feels part of a Oneness each day. Spiritual insight comes to us in quiet, introspective, subtle moments which are manifested by the power of a single thought.
Life is a matter of constant change toward fulfillment. Our place in the world today may be different tomorrow. We must learn to adapt to these different perspectives in life because that, too, is part of the plan for our development. In so doing, there is a transcendence of Self from the masking process of a temporary outer shell to that which lies deep within our permanent soul mind. To uplift the human mind from feelings of disenchantment, we must expand our consciousness while forgiving ourselves for mistakes. I believe it is vital to our mental health that we laugh at ourselves and the foolish predicaments we get into along the road. Life is full of conflicts and the struggle, pain and happiness we experience are all reasons for our being here. Each day is a new beginning.
I have a final quote that came from a subject who was preparing for another departure from the spirit world into a new incarnation on Earth. I think his statement offers a fitting conclusion to this book:
Coming to Earth is about traveling away from our home to a foreign land. Some things seem familiar but most are strange until we get used to them, especially conditions which are unforgiving. Our real home is a place of absolute peace, total acceptance and complete love. As souls separated from our home we can no longer assume these beautiful features will be present around us. On Earth we must learn to cope with intolerance, anger and sadness while searching for joy and love. We must not lose our integrity along the way, sacrificing goodness for survival and acquiring attitudes either superior or inferior to those around us. We know that living in an imperfect world will help us to appreciate the true meaning of perfection. We ask for courage and humility before our journey into another life. As we grow in awareness so will the quality of our existence. This is how we are tested. Passing this test is our destiny.
The End.
If you would like to go back to the start, you can do so HERE.
Would you like some more?
I have other posts of a similar venue in my MAJestic Index. You can access it here…
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Please kindly help me out in this effort. There is a lot of effort that goes into this disclosure. I could use all the financial support that anyone could provide. Thank you very much.
Perhaps the first thing that triggered my thoughts that the cronovirus attack in Wuhan was a biological weapon event was the suspicious timing of it…
… and the absolutely absurd complete shutdown of the 2020 CNY holiday.
Have you the reader ever heard of an entire nation canceling Christmas and ordering everyone to stay at home and not go out? It’s amazing, unique and horrifying.
Well…
…that’s what happened.
Of course, those in America and out West haven’t a clue as to what this means. Perhaps this graph will illustrate my point.
Plot of cronovirus infections over time overlayed with the yearly Chinese New Year mass migration.
This is a graph showing the trajectory when only a precious few people were infected.
Imagine what would have happened if the Chinese government would have not taken direct and immediate action.
What if…
Here’s what it looks like if they delayed action by two days, and all of China are having parties, drinking, eating and having fun with each other…
This scenario is what would have happened if China delayed going to DEFCON ONE by two days. The infection trajectory goes ballistic.
So, people, my argument is that there is no such thing as a coincidence.
This illness was intentionally timed to exert maximum damage on China.
If that is not bad enough…
… were China to delay their response by a mere two days, the nation would have been completely devastated and neutered by this illness.
What it is like.
This is what it is like…
Your read the news reports, and suddenly you aren’t feeling good. You report it to the 119 (9-1-1 emergency line) and an ambulance comes to pick you up.
My very first interview. I had it on 2-2-2020. How about that for a date, eh? It’s about what I experienced during the Wuhan coronavirus outbreak and my sleuthing on the entire box of puzzle pieces regarding the biological weapon attack.
If you enjoyed this, you can see other posts in some of my other Indexes…
You’ll not find any big banners or popups here talking about cookies and privacy notices. There are no ads on this site (aside from the hosting ads – a necessary evil). Functionally and fundamentally, I just don’t make money off of this blog. It is NOT monetized. Finally, I don’t track you because I just don’t care to.
This article travels into details on how the multi-world “theory” operates upon the canvas of a universal reality. We look at the moment-by-moment method of how we exist within the multi-world universe. (In other words.) We look at the mechanism in detail.
Of course, it is going to be an awfully strange “trip”. As our actual reality does not resemble anything like everyone assumes it is.
Of course, this is from the point of view of an "operator". (If you want to eject the MAJestic mantle and look in the fascinating world of the mathematics behind all this, please by my guest.)
Here, we discuss the mechanism from which a soul would choose to live a particular life as a human. Yeah. I get it, it’s a very deep subject. It enters the realm of the religious and the spiritual. But, you know what, it need not be.
When you look at things objectively, you see that things HAVE to be this way, as described.
The topographic model.
We discuss this MWI as a topographic mapped surface from which we can extrapolate probability potential.
Now, there are many, many ways to illustrate the MWI. This is only one such method. It is the method that I was introduced to, and the one that I have come to accept as “normal”.
One of the most radical and important ideas in the history of physics came from an unknown graduate student who wrote only one paper, got into arguments with physicists across the Atlantic as well as his own advisor, and left academia after graduating without even applying for a job as a professor.
Hugh Everett’s insight was as simple as it was brilliant: accept the Schrödinger equation.
Both of those parts of the final superposition are actually there. But they can’t interact with each other; what happens in one branch has no effect on what happens in the other. They should be thought of as separate, equally real worlds. This is the secret to Everettian quantum mechanics.
-Aeon
This method or display is something that is often “behind the scenes” when the pilot arranges a slide, and the calibration of destination coordinates are locked in.
I suppose most people can live without it.
However, in my case, I discovered that it was useful to determine just how “far out” a slide can manifest, and whether or not a “deep dive” will manifest. (I said “useful”, not necessary.)
As far as any kind of practical application, I would hazard a guess that there wouldn’t be any need to anyone to know about this. It’s just a useful way of better understanding how the MWI works.
Warning
The idea of multiple-world lines, the MWI and the physics of this entire matter is NOT accepted by the general pubic, or (even) agreed to by many physicists. To them it is unproven theory that doesn’t make sense in the Judaeo-Christrian world-view.
But, seriously folks. You do not have to believe anything. It’s your reality. That’s fine.
We are always free to believe what ever we want. We adjust to our surroundings and key up our behaviors based upon our observation and our interactions with others, and the objects adjacent to us. However strange the MWI appears, it adequately and efficiently describes hour our consciousness interacts with our physical reality.
Now, for the “fresh slap of reality”.
The organization that I was part of from May 1981 through to May 2006 utilized technologies based upon this “theory”. Our government built machinery based on this “theory”. As well as using the machines (so constructed) for their own purposes.
I can positively affirm that the technologies and the machinery worked.
By the time I started to use the more primitive versions of the machinery (May 1981), it was well understood that the technology was very, very mature.
I refer to the "primitive" version to be a fixed transport portal. In this narrative, and post, I discuss my role as a "dimensional anchor" using a much more advanced version of technology.
In many ways, it's sort of explaining how a microwave works to a snail. Most of what I have to say will be gibberish to most readers who have absolutely no reference points to anchor upon.
I was an “operator” of numerous such technologies.
This is my overview of how the MWI actually manifests from the point of view of an “operator” or a “participant” utilizing the MWI-based technologies. It is based on [1] my extrapolation of experiences, [2] knowledge and [3] my exposure to various types of advanced technology.
If you do not want to hear what I have to say, you can leave.
The traditional view of the universe. many people are handicapped by this traditional view, and thus have a very difficult time understanding a totally and wholly different viewpoint and understanding of the universe and how to navigate it. It is sort of like trying to learn to sail, but not believing that there is a thing called “wind”.
Quick Overview
Before we begin, here’s a quick review for all of you guys who just fell onto this post from out of the “blue”.
Most people have a really crap-tastic idea of what the MWI or multiple world-line theory is. They just cannot visualize it for the life of themselves. They have no idea what to think, or how it would manifest.
They come up with visualizations such as this…
Contemporaneous visualization of the MWI.
One major hurtle…
The problem with all these contemporaneous visualizations is that the artist, philosopher, or scientist does not isolate the concept of consciousness from that of a physical person. It is assumed, and defaulted to one and the same identical thing. When in fact, they are entirely two separate things.
Everyone assumes that all those people around us also possess a consciousness. We assume they are also like us; that they have an active consciousness and an associated soul as well.
We make this assumption based on our interactions with them.
They appear, to us to be fully actuated and in possession of a soul and consciousness. We argue here that the appearance of something does not equate to the de facto possession of something.
There are differences between [1] a “consciousness”, [2] a “physical body”, and [3] a “person”. For our purposes, a person is someone with an active consciousness. Most people think that all three things are just different names for the same thing. They are not.
The differences between a person, a consciousness and a physical body when discussing the MWI, or multiple world-line theory.
Most laymen, and many scientists do not understand this simple fact. They assume that everyone is a “person”. That we share our universe with other people who all have internal “consciousnesses”.
We do not.
We are a consciousness. Not a physical body.
Instead we are consciousness, that inhabits a physical body, forming a person. (As in the picture above.) We then occupy a reality.
In this reality, we are surrounded with physical bodies, but none of them possess a consciousness. Instead they appear to have a consciousness simply because of how they interact with us. This interaction of these others is how the soul obtains experiences and thus grows and advances in the quantum sphere.
Within our reality, we are the only one that is in possession of a consciousness. Everyone else is just a shadow version of themselves. In reality they (too) inhabit their own reality elsewhere, where they too are alone and surrounded by the quantum shadows of others.
Thus, our universe is comprised with a near infinite number of world-line realities. Many are empty, and some contain a consciousness which is inhabiting a body to obtain experiences with. Our universe, thus looks something a little like this…
This is how the universe actually is, and exists within the MWI. It is a place where consciousness travels the infinite world-lines alone, and interacts with shadow equivalents of other people, persons and things.
Why this is important.
If you want to know the “secrets of the universe” then you will need to forget everything you learned in school and college. For all of it is based on assumptions that are rock-hard, firm, fixed and imputable.
Most of it is really, really incorrect. For our “reality” is not what everyone thinks.
We do not “share” our universe with others.
We live alone in our universe.
Everyone else are “shadow copies” of their true forms.
These “shadow copies” are other people acting and living as if they were to share our universe. They are what could possibly exist and manifest. Not that they actually do manifest.
What it looks like is NOT the way it is.
We all think that there is just one universe, and one Earth, and it is populated by all of us together. That we share the earth with each other and that we are all equal and are in the same time-line.
All these assumptions are wrong.
We believe that we share our universe with others. No. Instead we share this universe with “versions” of other people. These versions are constructs that interacts with our consciousness while we exist within our reality world-line.
We do not share our universe with others.
Nope.
Not. Even. Close.
Instead, we occupy a universe alone. We do not share it with anyone. Oh, yes, it does appear that we share it, but we really do not.
All those other people that we interact with are not really what they appear. They are a version of that other person. This is the version of that person were they to actually share the reality with us.
All those other people that we interact with are not really what they appear. They are a version of that other person. This is the version of that person were they to actually share the reality with
They are but quantum shadows of the possibility of interaction.
In Plato’s classic Allegory of the Cave, a group of people living in a cave have a very false view of the world because the only thing they can see is the shadows on a wall. Plato was trying to teach his students that the philosopher must see beyond the shadows to the reality that is projecting them, but what exactly is that reality.
The reality that Plato wanted his students to see is not the physical form of the object casting the shadow, those physical objects are just another level of shadows! The world of matter is the shadow world, the world of illusion, the world of deception. It is not at all what it appears to be because our physical eyes, and other physical senses, can sense only the shadows called matter so we are deceived into believing that it is real. That is not to say that matter is not real. Matter is real just as the shadow of a tree is real, but the shadow is not the tree and matter is not true reality.
-Cosolargy International
To understand this please note.
We are not a physical body. We are soul.
Now, do not be offended.
This does not at all mean that there is no love, that there isn’t a thing called togetherness. That there isn’t all the physical, emotional and spiritual relationships that we have with others. Do not be silly. Of course they exist.
What changes is the understanding of what a physical body is.
Instead of one (and only one) physical body that your consciousness inhabits, there is an infinite number of physical bodies. Each one within a unique and separate world-line.
You, as consciousness, moves in and out of all these other bodies of yours through thought.
This is what a person really is. We are multi-dimensional beings with a singular consciousness. We (as consciousness) move in and out of the MWI world-lines entering similar physical bodies associated with our consciousness.
This is also true for the entire rest of the universe. Everyone else also possesses bodies such as this. Your dog has this kind of body. Your cat has this kind of body. In fact, the felines are actually quite cognizant of this ability.
We are NOT a physical body. We are soul that manifests a consciousness within our reality.
Knowing and realizing this, makes some of the passages in the religious books far more reasonable, and easier to understand. It doesn’t matter if it is the Koran, or the Bible. Understanding the way the universe works, and truly works, adds a far greater understanding to the wisdom that resides inside of these great works.
The soul creates a “consciousness” that it places in a “container”. This container is a “world-line”. Our “universe” is a near infinite number of world-lines.
We are placed here for our consciousness to obtain experiences.
We navigate in and out of the world-lines though our thoughts. Our rate of travel (in general) is (for most humans) about 4 Hz. Or, four cycles per second. (Four world-lines each second.)
There are different rates of travel, and different species travel the MWI at different speeds. In general, the rate of travel is proportional to the operational speed of the brain. This of course varies.
If you dull your brain to such a degree that your brain is slower, then you will not travel the MWI as fast as others would. And you might find your life slowly "falling behind" that of others.
Thus…
We are consciousness. We “rent” a physical body for a fleeting moment of time.
Our reality is NOT shared. Instead our consciousness occupies a singular world-line. It is a momentary event.
We (our consciousness) migrate between momentary world-lines through our thoughts.
This movement is known as “the arrow of time”.
The best way that I can introduce the reader to this “radical” understanding of how our universe actually works, is to use the “movie projector theory”.
Movie Projector theory for the MWI.
This
is an illustration of what time actually is. Time does not exist. It is
a perception that our consciousness has as it moves and weaves in and
out of different world-lines. Here we use an old-fashioned movie reel
projector to help illustrate this understanding.
Thus, the idea of the actual way things work is really, really, REALLY different than what everyone assumes or believes. The difference is so stark, that many researchers are handicapped in their understanding of reality. Ah, but it need not be that way.
Come on! You can well understand the movie projector analogy, can’t you?
If you can, well good for you! Award yourself a gold star.
The Movie Projector Theory in more detail…
The problem with that analogy (and it is a really good analogy), that that it does not take into account the individual frame selection in the film role. For in actual contemporaneous movies, it is the movie producer that selects the individual frames, and the person just sits back and watches the movie.
In reality, it is more like an entire bank of projectors, and we (as soul) selects the movie that interests us.
In this model, we have numerous movie projectors, all running simultaneously (at the same entropy)… Ah! At the same time.
We can “jump into” any scene portrayed by any of the movie projectors at will. We just look at the projected images.
Instead of a producer selecting the frames in a film and arranging the movie, and content, the soul consciousness does this instead. Using the movie projector analogy, it is similar to being in a room with multiple movie projectors all running similar films simultaneously. You, as consciousness, can decide which movie to watch. The further away the movie projector is from the movie that you are currently watching, the more effort is required.
The further away the movie projector is from us, the harder it is to watch that movie. So we must watch closer movies (momentarily) and then “edge our way” closer to the movie projector that we are interested in.
Most people, sadly, do not do this. They allow the movie projectors to operate randomly and they find themselves watching movies that they may not really care for.
How it manifests
So, using this film / movie projector analogy further it is exactly how our consciousness selects the “life experience” that we obtain. Each frame in a given movie reel is a world line. They are all playing about simultaneously, and our consciousness selects the world-lines to occupy by hopping from frame to frame. (World-line to world-line.)
By selecting each frame in a given movie, we can navigate within the movie, or even “jump” to another completely different movie all together. It is all dependent upon our thoughts, or the navigation of our consciousness.
Our soul decides the very first frame, and the very first movie reel that we will enter. However, it is our consciousness that decides how to make the best of our life, and how to navigate within the framework that is provided to us by the divine.
Nearby movie projectors are nearly identical to the one that we are viewing at the moment. Their divergence from our “present reality” is often very small.
As we move further and further away to more distant movie projectors the divergence gets larger and larger and larger.
This is why it doesn’t seem like we are moving from one world-line to the next. It seems smooth, seamless and transparent. That is because the deviance in nearby world-line (projectors) is very, very small.
Our thoughts select the world-line…
In reality, the “film spool” (a collection of “frames”) is known as the “life experience” of a given consciousness as it takes on a life.
It is a record of our travels in and out of different world-lines. Where a “world-line” is represented as a frame within the movie reel.
The individual “frames” that are selected, are chosen by the thoughts of the consciousness that inhabits the body. We migrate to things that we think about. We migrate to what we think about.
Not necessarily what we might desire. It is what occupies our thoughts most of the time. (So shut off that stupid manipulative television, why don’t ya!)
For all its popularity, Facebook isn’t without its share of scandals. In the latest one, details came out of an experiment conducted on 700,000 Facebook users over the period of a single week in 2012. News feeds were manipulated to contain positive or negative news and content, then users were monitored to see if the change made them use more positive or negative words in their status updates.
And it worked—people’s status updates showed a change in emotion that went along with the kind of news that they were exposed to.
The term used was “emotional contagion,” and it confirms something pretty frightening.
According to the study, people don’t even have to be physically around another person in a bad mood to absorb the negativity into themselves—negativity can be “caught” just from looking at a computer screen.
There doesn’t need to be a personal, emotional connection for emotional contagion to happen.
Not surprisingly, the study has brought up a number of disturbing questions, and it’s now being investigated by organizations like the Information Commissioner’s Office in Dublin. Those questioning the ethics of the study state that it’s nothing less than psychological manipulation. As if that’s not shady enough, Facebook users were unaware that they were having their emotions and moods manipulated through another party controlling just what was popping up in their news feeds.
-List verse
I am hungry, but what do I want to eat? It is our thoughts, coupled with our memories and yearnings that help us decide what actions to take.
So what to do? Eat a bowl of dog food, or have a nice tasty delicious pizza? Decisions. Decisions. It is our thoughts that determine which world-lines to occupy, and for most people, they just go with the flow and end up with whatever is provided to them.
No two thoughts are the same…
One of the problems that people need to come to grips with is that thoughts are not equal. Thoughts are “weighed”. Each thought is different. And thus each thought has a different degree in influence in world-line selection.
Thoughts and emotions together form a complex stew of “influence” that can absolutely affect your world-line travel adventures. For instance, consider the scenario of you being hungry and desirous of eating a fine New York style pizza. Now your enjoyment at eating that pizza will depend on your emotions at the time. Obviously you won’t be able to enjoy it if you were angry, now would you? Our emotions, our memories our physical health and other factors all work together to influence our world-line navigation ability.
Thoughts and emotions together form a complex stew of “influence” that can absolutely affect your world-line travel adventures.
These thoughts are comprised of “levels of influence”.
Duration of thinking about something.
Emotional attachments with the thoughts.
Prior memories of similar events.
Prior physical experiences.
The thoughts of the people (shadow consciousnesses) around you.
Cultural variances, needs and desires.
Mass thought manipulation (Have you been paying attention to the news lately?)
One’s inherent belief system.
Ah, no two thoughts are equal. They have a “weighed” value or influence factor. Further, they are also modified by other thoughts by other “shadow consciousnesses” (Individual proxy consciousnesses that share a given reality.)
Think about it. It has to be this way, or else an obsessed person should be able to have their dreams manifest quite easily. But, the truth is that they don't. That is because of a slew of factors. One of which is the "level of influence" that a thought is given within a given world-line.
One of the most important and significant factors in thought-directed world-line selection is one’s inherent belief system.
Consider the cow.
One mighty big cow.
Let's use the cow analogy.
For instance, you might be starving, and ready to die of starvation.
A typical American would not have any qualms with butchering a cow and eating steak. A Hindu would not, and would rather die than kill a cow. A vegetarian might be against eating it, but would not have any qualms drinking it's milk.
Our actions are determined, in large part, by our belief systems.
It is our deepest belief systems that have the greatest influences in our thoughts.
It is our deepest thoughts and core belief systems that have the greatest influence in thought direction and world-line selection. For no two people are the same.
This is a very important subject, and I will cover it later on. For now, let’s look at things simply. Consider that all thoughts are simple, unique and they can easily select the “frames” or world-lines that the consciousness will migrate to.
The actual “landscape” of the MWI as viewed by the individual consciousness.
Imagine a “road map” of nearby world-lines.
Now, what would it look like? What would it resemble? How would we be able to take into account all the different variables that are constantly shifting and changing all around us?
Obviously, it would have a form of sorts.
It would have (as an illustration) globes representing a given “world-line” (or “frame” in the movie using the analogy above). It would also have lines. The lines would represent a path of migration. Which is the most probable paths for a consciousness to take when moving from one world-line to another.
Movement in and out of the world-lines in the MWI by using the movie projector analogy to describe the way that consciousness moves in and out of different world-lines though thought.
Now, this is a pretty good analogy as far as it describes the path that a consciousness would take. However, this analogy ignores the world-lines that are not taken. And in general, there a millions or much larger numbers of world-lines that are constantly ignored.
So a better way of mapping this procedure is to do so in a three dimensional framework.
Moving away from the movie projector analogy and mapping it upon a three-dimensional grip, it might look something a little like this. With the positions of the world-lines geographically positioned relatively to the pathways as a function of the intrinsic value of the particular world-line.
The path that consciousness takes might be just as well placed on a map of sorts. This map might show nodes and paths where the consciousness might migrate depending on thought manifestation, generation and progression.
However, it would not look so much like a cluster of grapes, or bubbles on a foamy sea of bath water. No.
It turns out that the highest probability pathway forms a kind of sheet or flat surface when plotted in the three dimensions.
If you end up plotting everything, you can't make out heads or tails of the map. It's just this one big mess. But, if you plot the pathways that have the greatest probability of travel, it simplifies immensely.
Instead of a cluster of grapes, it would look a little like a mesh or a grid. With the points being world-lines, and the lines connecting the points as the shortest distance to that world-line.
Now, if you take a step away from this “map” of “world-lines” and their lines of “high-probability” consciousness transfer it might start looking a little like this. Where you would see a “surface” of “highest probability” pathways, with the relative ease of travel and the strength of character needed to traverse affecting the heights and valleys of the apparent surface.
How the world-lines with consciousness migration paths might look when a person takes a larger overview. You will see that the map is not a flat surface, but rather undulates. It forms hills, valleys and “mountains”. This surface is the “geography” of the world-line transition map. Each possible destination world-line would have a different value of “potential”. Which is a potential for the consciousness to move towards it and occupy it.
The “surface” that this map forms is the HIGHEST PROBABILITY of consciousness movement from one world-line node to another.
Going above the surface indicates a strength of will over the combined strength of inertia of a given world-line.
Going below the surface indicates a weak strength of will and a consciousness being overwhelmed by the inherent inertia of a given world-line.
Additionally…
Moving to the left upon the mapped surface indicates more freedom of movement upon a given world-line reality.
Moving to the right upon the mapped surface indicates less freedom of movement upon a given world-line reality.
Thus…
The topographic map display is a useful tool in understanding the hurtles and trials that one needs to endure to travel forth on the MWI.
The movement on the topographical map of the highest probability paths is accomplished via thought.
However, the rate of travel is fast…
The thing is, however, that the rate of travel through each world-line in the MWI is quite fast. It is around four world-lines per second. (For some people it is much, much higher.) Thus, for any topographic map to be of any use, it will have to have to exist on a much larger scale than what is presented here.
As such, the individual world-lines would appear as tiny pixels, and for the map to be of any use, it should describe a travel duration in terms of weeks rather than seconds. This means that the map would look like a smooth gradient rather than an array of “floating”globes.
MWI geometric map showing an array of highest probability world-lines in a seven second cluster of time. As the resolution increases the similarity to geologic topographic maps increases. Often these maps resemble landscapes and other recognizable surfaces.
Mapping the surface.
Here, we are going to take a look at the way the landscape actually looks from the point of view of an individual consciousness. It is NOT simple and flat. It is undulating with all sorts of “nearby” world-lines that the thoughts can select and migrate towards.
In general, it might look something along these lines…
The general topography of the MWI.
In reality, this topographical map is much more complex and complicated. However, I was able to (functionally) navigate it using a sort of simple 3d understanding, and that understanding is one that I will provide here. Yes, these are my conventions distilled and illustrated as a teaching aide.
Here we look at it is the substantially simplified version that I am accustomed to using.
The meanings and purposes in the three-dimensional topographical portrayal.
Now because this is a very simplified diagrammatic representation, numerous variables are incorporated in the “X’ and “Z” axes. (Not to mention the entropy axis “Y”.) In general, as I understand it, the characteristics of the “X’ and “Y” axes are an algebraic sum of the inverses of the individual contributions to the axes elements.
OK. I know that I lost you. Just think of it as a sum average of all your thoughts.
Internal Influences
Internal influences should be understood as the ultimate result of comparative thought-driven MWI transitions by the given consciousness.
Suppose the mind has a wide selection of thoughts. Everything from anger at a spouse, to frustration at work, and influences in the news, to a loving thoughts related to romance. All these thoughts will work together to generate a (singular) "value" on this axis.
But, it is more than that. It is also the weighed value and the intensity of the thoughts, coupled with the apparent carry-over duration longevity of the thoughts as a person migrates in and through the other world-lines.
Let's keep it simple.
Look, if you drop a slice of pizza in the middle of a muddy road, would you [1] pick it up, wipe the mud off the pizza, and eat it. or [2] say "heck with that", and leave the pizza in the mud as a lost cause.
For most people, they would give up and abandon the slice of pizza.
The amount of mud is far too distracting to enjoy the slice of pizza. That is that way this system works. For if you abandon the slice, like most people would, your would occupy a world-line on the surface of the undulating map.
If however, against all probability and convention, you decided to eat the slice, you might be above or below the surface, depending on other factors.
Here’s an example.
Let’s suppose that you are a simple fellow and you have five things going on in your life.
A spouse that wants a divorce.
A boss who is hinting on firing you.
A yearning for a club sandwich and an ice cold beer.
A pet that loves you and is very loyal.
Memories of fishing with your father.
In this example, some of the items would have more emotion attached to it that others. While other issues might be better at controlling your emotions and directing your thoughts. While still others might be able to erase the thoughts completely (if for a short period of time).
You might be an emotional wreck and your thoughts would manifest a life that would reflect your thoughts.
As an aside, drugs and other stimuli can also influence thoughts and behaviors. All of these complexities can alter the navigational ability on the MWI.
There is no way to judge which thoughts or issues affecting the thoughts would have the greatest influence on the person because it is their deepest internal core belief systems that would result in how the world-lines would manifest.
Charlie Sheen’s Public Meltdown in 2011
All that one can assume is that all the factors would be weighted together and balanced though the core belief systems of the soul / consciousness. This would influence the momentary section of the next world-line.
Is it no wonder that when things start going wrong, that they often end up spiraling out of control?
External influences should be considered the inherent inertia that comes with a given world-line.
Inertia.
Inertia is the resistance of any physical object to any change in its state. Once you have a bowling ball sitting on the floor, it is a little difficult to get it to move. However, once you get it moving, it's hard to slow down.
That difficulty... getting it started to move, and stopping it from moving... is what is known as inertia.
For our purposes it is the accumulated influences of the “shadow thoughts” of those (non-consciousness) apparent beings that share a given destination world-line. These are all the physical and non-physical influences that would affect the thoughts of a consciousness while it is in a given world-line.
You see, there can only be one consciousness per world-line. All those other "people" that we share the world-line with are actually "shadows". They are the bodies and representation of other consciousness were they to share the reality with us. As such, not only are their physical being present with us, but also their thoughts, dreams, desires and urges as well.
A "shadow" is a person that we share the specific world-line with.
However no consciousness inhabits their body. Their actual consciousness is off in another reality. We are observing their 'shadow" or a portrayal of how they would behave, act and think were they to share our reality with us.
The arrow of time.
With this being understood, a consciousness… a person might experience world-line travel at a rate of around 4 Hz, and visit numerous world-lines in any given instance. Thus the “arrow of time” might look something like this…
The topography of the MWI showing the apparent “arrow of time”.
Thus in this simplified diagram showing the geography of the MWI you (the reader) can see [1] how the passage of time manifests, [2] how your thoughts can alter and change the “X” vector component, and [3] how a given world-line can influence the path direction via a “Z” axis vector. You will also notice that the “arrow of time” [4] moves along the direction of decreasing entropy.
Entropy
A measure of the amount of disorder in a system. Entropy increases as the system's temperature increases. For example, when an ice cube melts and becomes liquid, the energy of the molecular bonds which formed the ice crystals is lost, and the arrangement of the water molecules is more random, or disordered, than it was in the ice cube. We can assume that in a macrocosmic universe, that it can be best represented as time.
The migration process.
Our consciousness moves from one physical body in one world-line to another in a different world-line. For most humans, most of the time, the rate of travel is around four world-lines per second.
Expert hint;
If you are using "the power of intention" to manifest your reality, what you are doing is focusing on a destination world line. If you track your success or failure in this effort, you will discover the amount of time it will take for your intentions to manifest.
If it took 6 months, then that means that you had to pass through 62,208,000 (more or less) world lines to arrive at your destination world-line.
Figure around 10 million world-line transitions per month.
The way that consciousness is able to move in and out of the various world lines is though wave propagation behavior.
While it is a given world-line, the consciousness occupies the body in the particle form.
While the consciousness moves from one world-line to another, it is no longer occupying a body. It is thus in a wave form.
It is not that a quanta changes, it is how the observer views the quanta that makes the change. Our soul controls consciousness. Consciousness can be in different states depending upon the point of view of the person (the observer). Here we can see that the two apparently different states are one and the same thing, depending on the point of view of the observer.
This all happens rather quickly. In most people, mostly the rate of travel from one world-line to another is around 4Hz. For most humans our brains have a difficult time observing the changes in these movements. So we think that we are living in one singular world-line that we share with others.
Here is a gif that kind of illustrates the point, and the system at work here.
Wave and particle duality and illustration.
The entry process
This is how the consciousness changes from wave to particle for entry within a body within a reality. Our consciousness naturally exists in the wave form.
However, the moment it “crashes through” into a fabricated world-line reality, it changes form. It becomes a particle. It’s a natural process.
This is how the consciousness changes from wave to particle for entry within a body within a reality. The consciousness takes on the particle form in order to operate the physical body and exist within a reality or world-line reality. Otherwise, it operates in wave form outside of the body.
MAJestic operations (slides and dives)
The thing is, if you are in MAjestic, and are engaged in the role like I was in, your visualization of the MWI mapping would be quite different. I was often not allowed, or permitted, to live a “normal” life per my capabilities. ‘
Instead I was often pulled off my life track and immersed within a completely different reality.
One of the reasons why it sucked to be me.
And this is what it was like.
An illustration, by using map topography of the MWI to describe what a slide was like. It took me to a completely different series of world-lines that were way, way off the probability curves of a “normal” consciousness migration vector. In the instance shown, you can see that I was living a normal life on the MWI for a few seconds (figure four world-lines per second) and then boom! a slide would occur and I would be located way, way off my accustomed world-line.
For, by nature of my role, I would not follow the surface as described within the topography. I would be involved in slides and dives… including a few “deep dives”.
Thus, my dives and slides would deviate way off from the mapped surface geometry. It would render the understanding of this visualization quite differently.
A “slide” or a “dive” will transform your reality substantially. Often it will be wholly unrecognizable. Your body would be wholly immersed in the new reality, but your mind will not, nor will your memories.
Coordinates and vector tracking
Most certainly there were the manual coordinates that I would navigate (somewhat) with, but that really didn’t tell me much except upon what I felt. And that <redacted>.
Does the speedometer in the car have meaning if you do not know how long a mile is, or can tell the difference from air traveling at 10 miles/hour compared to 100 miles/hour?
Unless you have a comparative understanding of a value, the numerical values will hold no meaning.
For example...
Do you know (you the reader), know how big 25 mm is? If I were to tell you to get me a stack of sliced Lorraine Swiss cheese 25 mm high, would you know how big the stack would be?
(It's about an inch tall.)
The point is that unless you can associate some meaning with a alpha numerical value, it in itself will hold no meaning to you.
speedometer
The good thing was that<redacted>, and as such I was able to track my movement. Though the understanding of it was quite different from what any other person would understand.
The automatic slides brought forth by the pilot, and the artifice were visually observed in the form of glyphs. Not numbers. These objects would pop into my visual sight clear enough and I could easily ignore, or discard the information as I felt. Which, for the most part, I did.
When you get a "blue plate special" in a restaurant with a small twig of parsley on the side, what do you do with the parsley? Do you eat it? Hold it up and study it? Or, are you like me, and ignore it and discard it?
When you get a “blue plate special” in a restaurant with a small twig of parsley on the side, what do you do with the parsley? Do you eat it? Hold it up and study it? Or, are you like me, and ignore it and discard it?
These however, made little sense to me, being cycles, circles and symbols. What did make sense was the multi-layered navigation “console” or (more aptly) vision on what was transpiring. This <redacted>. At least in manual mode, I could understand the alpha numerical numbers, if not exactly the purposes.
Anyways, I will cover all this in another post / article.
For now, let’s just simply say that for me (and the others in my role) we had a map that included multiple surface topography. (Let’s not get too involved in how we were able to “see” and access this map. It’s stuff for another long sequence of posts.)
The pilot would navigate my slides way off the “normal” topographic map, and I would enter into other realities that were quite removed from the map. I would be able to observe this in the form of different surface topography lying on top of each other.
Recording of our “migration path”.
All of this was recorded on yet another kind of visual map. However, let it be completely understood that it was absolutely confusing to me and looked more like patterned wallpaper of extreme complexity than anything else. I could not, in any way, understand it.
Conclusion
This post describes how I was able to track and understand what I was going through as I experienced the MWI for MAJestic. The organization, via the <redacted> took me to different versions of our earth for the purposes of the prevention of world-line clustering in a manner that would be problematic.
This post describes what it was like for me going through this, and how I was able to understand what was going on.
MAJestic Related Posts – Training
These are
posts and articles that revolve around how I was recruited for MAJestic
and my training. Also discussed is the nature of secret programs. I
really do not know why the organization was kept so secret. It really
wasn’t because of any kind of military concern, and the technologies
were way too involved for any kind of information transfer. The only
conclusion that I can come to is that we were obligated to maintain
secrecy at the behalf of our extraterrestrial benefactors.
MAJestic Related Posts – Our Universe
These
particular posts are concerned about the universe that we are all part
of. Being entangled as I was, and involved in the crazy things that I
was, I was given some insight. This insight wasn’t anything super
special. Rather it offered me perception along with advantage. Here, I
try to impart some of that knowledge through discussion.
Enjoy.
Utilizing Intention
Influencer Questions
Here are posts
that have gathered a series of questions from various influencers. They
are interesting in many ways and could help all of us unravel the
mysteries of the lives that we live.
MAJestic Related Posts – World-Line Travel
These posts
are related to “reality slides”. Other more common terms are “world-line
travel”, or the MWI. What people fail to grasp is that when a person
has the ability to slide into a different reality (pass into a different
world-line), they are able to “touch” Heaven to some extent. Here are
posts that cover this topic.
John Titor Related Posts
Another
person, collectively known by the identity of “John Titor” claimed to
utilize world-line (MWI egress) travel to collect artifacts from the
past. He is an interesting subject to discuss. Here we have multiple
posts in this regard.
They are;
Articles & Links
You’ll not
find any big banners or popups here talking about cookies and privacy
notices. There are no ads on this site (aside from the hosting ads – a
necessary evil). Functionally and fundamentally, I just don’t make money
off of this blog. It is NOT monetized. Finally, I don’t track you
because I just don’t care to.
"We discovered that if you want to monetize a blog you need to be getting about 100,000 hits a day! "
-6F12
Yes. Here we are going to explore Asia. This entire post is devoted to this. Except that we are going to take just a little bit of time to talk about something else.
As we continue in our video exploration of Asia, and my various rants of stuff, let’s first explore one of my all time movies. You know which one, don’t you? It’s from the photo splash screen above.
The movie is “Casablanca”, and it’s a classic.
I am so amazed at how many millennials have never heard of this move, nor watched it. It is stunning to me. Which is, perhaps, why I am going to spend a larger than usual amount of time writing about it.
Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine.
Lost in Love in Casablanca.
Casablanca is a film about the personal tragedy of occupation and war. It speaks to the oppression of the one side – and the heroism and self-deprecation of the other. From opportunists, to isolationists – from patriots to disenchanted lovers – the film has everything a man or woman would enjoy.
I cannot go with you or ever see you again.
Bravery, courage, intrigue, romance, beauty and love. Leading actors to please any appetite.
Watching this film is to step back to a world that doesn’t exist – yet to know it. It is to experience lives that have never been lived – but are “real to you.” It is to know pain and joy, pride and pity for characters that are a fiction – yet are so real that you can’t help but get lost in their story.
So what exactly is so special about it? Is it its great genre mix, never equaled by another film? When we think of 'Casablanca' first, we remember it as a romantic film (well, most of us do).
But then again, its also a drama involving terror, murder and flight.
One can call it a character study, centering on Rick. And there are quite a few moments of comedic delight, just think of the pickpocket ("This place is full of vultures, vultures everywhere!") or the elderly couple on the last evening before their emigration to the US ("What watch?").
But 'Casablanca' is not only great as a whole, it still stands on top if we break it apart and look at single lines of dialog, scenes or performances alone.
Amazing cast, memorable dialogue, unforgettable story.
Through this film, Casablanca will always live in my heart and I will
think of its characters as family.
Seeing it for the first time is truly the start of a romance with ideals that will live in you long after credits end.
Not only is the dialog great, it’s unforgettably delivered, especially by Humphrey Bogart (“I was misinformed.”) and Claude Rains (“I am shocked, shocked to find that gambling is going on here”). Many of scenes have become a part of film history; the duel of ‘Die Wacht am Rhein’ and ‘La Marseillaise’ is probably one of the greatest scenes ever shot, and the last scene is probably even familiar to the few people who’ve never seen ‘Casablanca’.
The Nazi envoy, Major Heinrich Strasser puts it: ‘Human life is cheap in Casablanca.” Of course because a man may be executed in its crowded market before Marshal Pétain’s portrait or where a charming girl may guarantee an exit visa by spending her night with the Prefect of Police…
Rick’s Café is the point of intersection, the espionage center, the background for Allied offensive, the focal point as refugees from Nazi-occupied Europe seek to gain exit visas to Lisboa…
The interesting club so well organized, leads to an open arena of conspiracy, counterspies, secret plans, black market transactions, in which the games and fights are between arrogant Nazis, patriotic French, idealists, murderers, pickpockets and gamblers around a roulette wheel, where a ball could rest on Rick’s command against the settled number 22…
The cast is one of its main strengths, not just Bogart and Bergman but also the fine supporting cast. Rains, Greenstreet, Lorre, and the others are indispensable to the atmosphere and the story, and each has some very good moments.
“Casablanca” is an adventure film which victory is not won
with cannons and guns… The action, the fight, the war takes place
inside Rick’s walls rather than outside…
But who is this Rick? What is his magical power? His secret weapon? Rick is the anti-fascist with hard feelings, the former soldier of fortune who has grown tired of smuggling and fighting, and is now content to sit out the war in his own neutral territory…
Hum... A little like myself, eh?
Even loyalty to a friend doesn’t move him as he refuses to help Ugarte, a desperately frightened little courier who is fleeing from the police…
This is a film that MUST belong in every video collection in the U.S. is not in the world. The stories about it’s making are legendary from the constant rewrites to the apocrypha of casting stories. What is amazing to me, and the reason I believe it holds audiences almost spellbound in successive viewings, is the connection with the horrors of World War II was almost every single cast member.
Emphatically, Rick says, “I stick my neck out for nobody.”
Play it again Sam.
Ah, but we know he will do just that in a very short time, for into his quiet life comes a haunting vision from his past, the beautiful woman he still loves and bitterly remembers…
But…
But…
But, she is married to an underground leader and she desperately needs those papers Rick conveniently now has in his possession…
OMG!
The cynical Rick’s facade of neutrality begins to weaken as he recalls the bittersweet memories of his past love affair, memories triggered repeatedly when the strains of “As Time Goes By” come from Sam, his piano-playing confidante…
But “Casablanca” basic message is a declaration of self-sacrifice… War. World II demanded all!
The words stated by Rick at the airport had their impact: ‘The problems of three people don’t amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world.’ It goes without saying that Bogart is incomparable when he seems most like himself…
His way with a line makes “Casablanca” dialog part of the collective memory: ‘I remember every detail. The Germans wore gray. You were blue.’
Everyone in this film is fabulous, but it is the chemistry of Rick (Bogart) and Ilsa (Bergman) been truly holds the film together. When I saw this film almost frame by frame in the limited book series of classic films that were produced in the late 1960s, I was stunned by the subtlety of facial expressions that conveyed so much of Rick Blaine’s character by a marvelous actor Humphrey Bogart.
There is a reason why he was named the actor of the century. While every person in the film becomes a real flesh and blood presence, the story of Rick and Ilsa is the center of this cinema feast.
Intermixed in this intrigue are all the fascinating and beautifully acted supporting roles . With his customary skill, Claude Rains plays Major Renault, a prefect of police who is like Bogart in many ways…
He, too, claims neutrality, but is definitely against the Nazis…
He is Rick’s most devoted adversary, tauntingly calling the man a “sentimentalist” and delivering his share of cynically amusing lines…
But, what about us?
When he makes a small bet and is encouraged to make a bigger one, he remarks that he is only a “poor corrupt official.”
Ingrid Bergman is fascinating as the
lovely heroine, the mysterious impossible woman of an impossible love,
the tender mood of every man, the love-affair, the quality of being
romantic, the traditional woman enclosed by two rivals, symbol of a
besieged Europe…
CASABLANCA is the best treatment ever of the ancient theme of the love triangle. Set in World War II Casablanca, a Moroccan city under the control of the collaborationist Vichy French government, the movie starts with a news wire that two German couriers have been murdered and their letters of transit stolen. Each letter will permit one person to leave Casablanca to a neutral country.
Paul Henreid is Victor Laszlo, the anti-Nazi
resistance leader, seeking in Morocco the two letters of transit signed
by General De Gaulle…
Here’s looking at you kid.
Sidney Greenstreet is the black marketeer
on good terms with Rick, the rival owner of the ‘Blue Parrot,’ the
acceptable face of corruption…
Peter Lorre is Ugarte, the
racketeer, the dealer of anything illegal, the killer, driven into a
corner by the Vichy police, who has given Rick two letter of transit…
Enter Humphrey Bogart as Rick Blaine, owner of the shady but cheerful Cafe Americaine. Rick is a cynical and hard-nosed man whose motto is, "I stick my neck out for nobody." Like many a cynic, Rick is an embittered ex-idealist, still nursing his wounds from being abandoned by his lover Ilsa (Ingrid Bergman). By chance he falls into possession of the missing letters of transit.
Enter Ilsa, who comes to Casablanca on the arm of Czech Resistance leader Victor Laszlo (Paul Henreid), a few steps ahead of the Nazi police. We now have three people and two letters of transit. Who will reach America, and who will stay in Casablanca? I know no other movie that so perfectly balances humor, romance, and drama.
The soul of good drama lies in presenting characters with hard choices, and few choices are as hard, or as illuminating of the protagonists' makeup, as the choices in CASABLANCA. All of the characters must decide what they will give up for love, for honor, and for themselves. The scenes of Rick and Ilsa's love, years ago in Paris, are some of the finest romantic scenes in cinema.
And the humor, particularly in the person of Casablanca's Prefect of Police, Louis Renault, has contributed dozens of dry witticisms to our everyday language - "I am shocked! Shocked! - "The Germans wore gray, you wore blue." - "I was misinformed." - "It would take a miracle to get you out of Casablanca, and the Germans have outlawed miracles."
So perfectly blended are these three major elements that you cannot point to a single shot or scene that should have been eliminated from the movie. Never try to watch only one scene from CASABLANCA; you will inevitably be absorbed until the very end of the film. It is little short of miraculous that the chaotically mismanaged shooting of this movie resulted in such a magnificent final product; it speaks volumes for luck and for Owen Marks' and Michael Curtiz' post-production editing.
A scene still from the 1943 Academy Award®-winning film “Casablanca” features (l to r) Humphrey Bogart, Claude Rains, Paul Henried and Ingrid Bergman. Bogart received an Academy Award nomination in the Lead Actor category while Claude Rains was honored with a nomination in the Supporting Actor category. “Casablanca” received eight Academy Award nominations in total and won three Oscars® including Best Picture. Restored by Nick & jane for Dr. Macro’s High Quality Movie Scans Website: http:www.doctormacro.com. Enjoy!
Conrad
Veidt is the very essence of German rigidity, unfeeling, unconcerned
about life, but firmly believing in the foolish ideology of his Nazi
compatriots…
“Casablanca” covers many highlights: The
Marseillaise against the Horst Wessel song inspiring sequence; the
blissful days in Paris; Ilsa’s emotional words to Rick in occupied
Paris; the champagne toast; Ilsa’s request to Sam; the poetry of the
magic words and the beautiful voice of Dooley Wilson; Captain Renault’s
words in the airport; and the farewell…
The magic that developed from the teaming of Bogart and Bergman is enough to make a new romantic figure out of the former tough guy…
To his cynicism, his own code of ethics, his hatred of the phoniness in all human behavior, he now added the softening traits of tenderness and compassion and a feeling of heroic commitment to a cause…
They helped him complete the portrayal of the ideal man who all men wished to rival…
In December 1941, American expatriate Rick Blaine owns an upscale nightclub and gambling den in Casablanca. “Rick’s Café Américain” attracts a varied clientele, including Vichy French and German officials, refugees desperate to reach the still-neutral United States, and those who prey on them.
Although Rick professes to be neutral in all matters, he ran guns to Ethiopia during its war with Italy and fought on the Loyalist side in the Spanish Civil War. Petty crook Ugarte boasts to Rick of “letters of transit” obtained by murdering two German couriers. The papers allow the bearers to travel freely around German-controlled Europe and to neutral Portugal, and are priceless to the refugees stranded in Casablanca. Ugarte plans to sell them at the club, and asks Rick to hold them.
Before he can meet his contact, Ugarte is arrested by the local police under the command of Captain Louis Renault, the unabashedly corrupt Vichy prefect of police. Ugarte dies in custody without revealing that he entrusted the letters to Rick.
One can look at hundreds of films produced during this period without finding any whose composite pieces fall so perfectly into place…
Its photography is outstanding, the music score is inventive, the editing is concise and timed perfectly…
Bogart’s and Bergman’s love scenes create a genuinely romantic aura, capturing a sensitivity between the two stars one would not have believed possible…
Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman starred in “Casablanca,” the Oscar®-winning film of 1943. Bogart was nominated for an Academy Award® in the Lead Actor category for his portrayal of Café Americain owner Rick Blaine. In total, “Casablanca” received eight Oscar nominations and won three, including Best Picture. Restored by Nick & jane for Dr. Macro’s High Quality Movie Scans Website: http:www.doctormacro.com. Enjoy!
“Casablanca” is
a masterpiece of entertainment, an outstanding motion picture which
brought Bogart his first Academy Award nomination (he lost to Paul Lukas
for “Watch On the Rhine”) and won Awards for Best Picture of the Year,
Best Director and Best Screenplay…
There is a scene about halfway through the movie Casablanca that has become commonly known as 'The Battle of the Anthems' throughout the film's long history. A group of German soldiers has come into Rick's Café American and are drunkenly singing the German National Anthem at the top of their voice. Victor Lazlo, the leader of the French Resistance, cannot stand this act and while the rest of the club stares appalled at the Germans, Lazlo orders the band to play 'Le Marseilles (sic?)' the French National Anthem. With a nod from Rick, the band begins playing, with Victor singing at the top of HIS voice. This in turn, inspires the whole club to begin singing and the Germans are forced to surrender and sit down at their table, humbled by the crowd's dedication. This scene is a turning point in the movie, for reasons that I leave to you to discover.
As I watched this movie again tonight for what must be the 100th time, I noticed there was a much smaller scene wrapped inside the bigger scene that, unless you look for it, you may never notice. Yvonne, a minor character who is hurt by Rick emotionally, falls into the company of a German soldier. In a land occupied by the Germans, but populated by the French, this is an unforgivable sin. She comes into the bar desperately seeking happiness in the club's wine, song, and gambling. Later, as the Germans begin singing we catch a glimpse of Yvonne sitting dejectedly at a table alone and in this brief glimpse, it is conveyed that she has discovered that this is not her path to fulfillment and she has no idea where to go from there. As the singing progresses, we see Yvonne slowly become inspired by Lazlo's act of defiance and by the end of the song, tears streaming down her face, she is singing at the top of her voice too. She has found her redemption. She has found something that will make her life never the same again from that point on.
Basically, this is Casablanca in a nutshell. On the surface, you may see it as a romance, or as a story of intrigue, but that is only partially correct.
The thing that makes Casablanca great is that it speaks to that place in each of us that seeks some kind of inspiration or redemption. On some level, every character in the story receives the same kind of catharsis and their lives are irrevocably changed. Rick's is the most obvious in that he learns to live again, instead of hiding from a lost love. He is reminded that there are things in the world more noble and important than he is and he wants to be a part of them. Louis, the scoundrel, gets his redemption by seeing the sacrifice Rick makes and is inspired to choose a side, where he had maintained careful neutrality. The stoic Lazlo gets his redemption by being shown that while thousands may need him to be a hero, there is someone he can rely upon when he needs inspiration in the form of his wife, who was ready to sacrifice her happiness for the chance that he would go on living. Even Ferrai, the local organized crime leader gets a measure of redemption by pointing Ilsa and Lazlo to Rick as a source of escape even though there is nothing in it for him.
This is the beauty of this movie. Every time I see it (and I have seen it a lot) it never fails that I see some subtle nuance that I have never seen before. Considering that the director would put that much meaning into what is basically a throw away moment (not the entire scene, but Yvonne's portion) speaks bundles about the quality of the film. My wife and I watched this movie on our first date, and since that first time over 12 years ago, it has grown to be, in my mind, the greatest movie ever made.
-A Masterwork for all Time
“Casablanca” is a great romance, not only for being so supremely entertaining with its humor and realistic-though-exotic wartime excitement, but because it’s not the least bit mushy. Take the way Rick’s face literally breaks when he first sees Ilsa in his bar, or how he recalls the last time he saw her in Paris: “The Germans wore gray, you wore blue.”
There’s a real human dimension to
these people that makes us care for them and relate to them in a way
that belies the passage of years. For me, and many, the most interesting
relationship in the movie is Rick and Capt. Renault, the police prefect
in Casablanca who is played by Claude Rains with a wonderful subtlety
that builds as the film progresses. Theirs is a relationship of almost
perfect cynicism, one-liners and professions of neutrality that provide
much humor, as well as give a necessary display of Rick’s darker side
before and after Ilsa’s arrival. But there’s so much to grab onto with a
film like this.
You
can talk about the music, or the way the setting becomes a living
character with its floodlights and Moorish traceries. Paul Henreid is
often looked at as a bit of a third wheel playing the role of Ilsa’s
husband, but he manages to create a moral center around which the rest
of the film operates, and his enigmatic relationship with Rick and
especially Ilsa, a woman who obviously admires her husband but can’t
somehow ever bring herself to say she loves him, is something to wonder
at.
…
My favorite bit is when Rick finds himself the target of an entreaty by a Bulgarian refugee who just wants Rick’s assurance that Capt. Renault is “trustworthy,” and that, if she does “a bad thing” to secure her husband’s happiness, it would be forgivable.
Rick flashes on Ilsa, suppresses a grimace, tries to buy the woman off with a one-liner (“Go back to Bulgaria”), then finally does a marvelous thing that sets the whole second half of the film in motion without much calling attention to itself.
Love and sacrifice during WWII underlie the story about a café owner named Rick (Humphrey Bogart), and his link to two intellectual refugees from Nazi occupied France. Ilsa (Ingrid Bergman) and Victor Laszlo (Paul Henreid) seek asylum here in politically neutral Casablanca and, like other European refugees, gravitate to Rick’s upscale café, near the city’s airport, with its revolving searchlight.
Rick is a middle-aged cynic who also has a touch of sentimentalism, especially for people in need, like Ilsa and Victor. The film’s story is ideal for romantics everywhere.
I wish I didn’t love you so much.
Sorry, for that long narrative. Let’s get back to Asia, shall we.
Faded. Music in China.
First stop is a DJ version of the song “Faded”. Faded is a song made popular by Alan Walker. It is very popular in China. As such, there have been many people who have used the song and music to manufacture “DJ” versions of the song.
There are many of them. Some of the best mix a kind of pop-rock with guitar solos and a background of war and machine-gun fire. Others, just take the melody and mix in Chinese dialog.
When done this way, it becomes a track that would evoke period of deep reflection while remembering the words of others who may or may not have been close to you. In the example below, you can well guess the complexity of those thoughts even though most would not have a clue as to what anyone was saying.
DJ Ricardo – Faded (英雄联盟台词版)
El Rusbo’ notices the roar of silence…
You know, El’ Rusbo had a great dialog on his progam on 7Aug19. In it he discussed what is going on while the American news media are going full-bore anti-Trump, anti-middle class America. Here’s an excerpt…
Trump Support Grows Stronger — and More Quiet — by the Day
Aug 7, 2019
x----snip
Well, it’s not entirely true, but I’ll try to make the point. There aren’t any, per se, Republican voters right now. There are Trump voters. There are Trump supporters and everybody else. Most of them are Republican, and Trump’s approval rating within the Republican Party still stands at 90 to 92%, and it may be even higher now. Those people are totally behind Trump. They are fully, quietly supportive of Trump and his agenda. They grow stronger and more quiet by the day, and that’s the great dichotomy. They are growing stronger, but they are shutting up.
They don’t want to make themselves targets. But they are seething out there. This is what I think the breakdown is. I think there are more and more Trump voters. Trump’s approval rating is at 49%. You go to state by state, and some states show him the losing there, but this is 16 months before the election. So there’s way too much time for any polling data here to be accurate. It’s nothing more than an interesting point of conversation at this point. But I really think that tends to describe the political lay of the land.
And the one thing that I think that is happening (just to reinforce this) that nobody is reporting on at all — not even what you would consider friendly outlets like Fox — is I think that the base support for Trump is solidifying and I think it is growing because I think those people are seething. They are the ones being called white supremacists. They are the ones being called white nationalists. They are the ones being blamed for all this, and they know they are not responsible for it, and they know that Donald Trump isn’t responsible for it.
They know that most of the rhetoric in this country that is inciting extremism emanates from the left. Most of the activity that incites extremism and violence emanates from the left. Do I need to give you the organizations? Antifa. Black Lives Matter. I could go down the list. Planned Parenthood. These are people who do this as a way of life. The basic Trump supporter (you), you’re just out there. Some of you are probably not totally invisible, but the grand majority of Trump supporters is just out there seething.
Look, I think I’m a typical Trump supporter, as far as you can define “typical.” And I am. I’m seething over this stuff. Each and every day, I’m seething over it. Now, don’t misunderstand. This doesn’t mean I’m depressed. This stuff literally ticks me off! Every time I hear these clowns throw out the term “white supremacist,” “white supremacy,” it ticks me off, and it makes me want to defeat them even more. It makes me want them to go down in flames even more — and in this, I believe I am typical.
I like his phrase “seething”.
It is what is going on. Be advised.
Chinese Hospital
China, as an enormous nation, has a wide hospital network. These include smaller local clinics and hospital branches. Like in the United States, they also have training and teaching hospital as well. The quality varies from region to region, but it is very easy to find a hospital suitable for what ever problem ails you.
In general, I have found the hospitals to be competent, staffed with caring and trained workers, and while the appearance varies from one hospital to the next, most Chinese hospitals are up to date and equipped with the latest in technology.
Aside from the handful of village hospitals that I have attended, most hospitals (and I have attended them for various reasons, many and yes, many times) all tend to look like this…
All with costs and prices far, far, far, FARRRRRR below what you would find in the United States. I think that the reason for this is that if the hospital or doctor tries to scam you or work in some kind of “kick-back” scheme through insurance or other legalized-bribery method, the Corruption Police will be unleashed.
Many regulations, agencies that require registration to work, fees, and other hidden costs are legalized ways for collecting bribes. Over the last 100 years, people have gamed the United States to extract as much money as possible from the citizens living there.
People, you DO NOT WANT the corruption police crashing through your window at night.
Thailand Beauty
My other posts were so serious with all the protests in China, and all that. I know these people “just want” “freedom and democracy”, though they are trying to appeal to Americans who live in an Oligarchy disguised as a Democracy (as evolved from a Republic). It’s all messed up.
The world has been gamed by the wealthy over the last 100 years, and now most people are serfs working on a plantation where everything they do has some kind of cost associated with it. This is most especially true in the United States and the UK. No so much elsewhere.
Life is all about love.
Here is some “lighter fare”. This is a cute girl in Thailand. I like the local rural restaurant that looks like an airplane, the green lush trees, and the blue skies. If it wasn’t for the gold temples over the next hill you would think that it’s in China.
Chinese Beauty
For comparison purposes, here is a similar video of a girl in China. As you can well see, that while the fashions are different, and the behavior and demeanor is different, there is a similarity that cannot be ignored. Ah. I do so love Asia.
European Beauty
Sometimes I get emails from trolls and other confused people. They seem to be under the impression that I need to curb what I write, or present so as not to offend anyone.
Nonsense!
If you are offended you can leave. I am far too old and too grouchy to tone down my thoughts for someone who has the emotions of an infant.
That being said, I do not want people to think that I do not appreciate other forms of human beauty. I am an equal-opportunity girl-watcher. I find so many women beautiful, and you would be so absolutely stunned at how wide ranging my tastes are.
For starters… here’s an European beauty. Isn’t she awesome? Wouldn’t you just love to take her out on a date, eat some fine steak or fish with a nice wine, and then go to a club or jazz bar? I would. I’ll tell you what.
OMG! I am such a sucker for a big toothy smile, and big hair. (Hint, hint to all you heavier girls out there…)
How to Cook Chicken Legs – Chinese Style
Here’s a quick video on how to cook chicken legs on the stove in a pan. This is the traditional Chinese cooking method, as most Chinese do not have ovens. It is not only tasty and healthy, but it uses far less electricity than cooking in a stove.
And as I finish this particular bunch of micro-videos about Asia, take a deeper look into my life as an American expat why don’t ya.
The Cafe American.
I have many more videos, but I just cannot put them into a single
post. It will bog down your computer terribly. So to watch the rest of
the videos in this post, please continue…
If you want to go to the start of this series of posts, then please click HERE.
Links about China
Here are
some links about my observations on China. I think that you, the reader,
might find them to be of interest. Please kindly enjoy.
China and America Comparisons
As an
American, I cannot help but compare what my life was in the United
States with what it is like living in China. Here we discuss that.
The Chinese Business KTV Experience
This is
the real deal. Forget about all that nonsense that you find in the
British tabloids and an occasional write up in the American liberal
press. This is the reality. Read or not.
Learning About China
Who
doesn’t like to look at pretty girls? Ugly girls? Here we discuss what
China is like by looking at videos of pretty girls doing things in
China.
Contemporaneous Chinese Music
This is a
series of posts that discuss contemporaneous popular music in China. It
is a wide ranging and broad spectrum of travel, and at that, all that I
am able to provide is the flimsiest of overviews. However, this series
of posts should serve as a great starting place for investigation and
enjoyment.
Parks in China
The parks
in China are very unique. They are enormous and tend to be very
mountainous. Here we take a look at this most interesting of subjects.
Really Strange China
Here are
some posts that discuss a number of things about China that might seem
odd, or strange to Westerners. Some of the things are everyday events,
while others are just representative of the differences in culture.
What is China like?
The
purpose of this post is to illustrate that the rest of the world,
outside of America, has moved on with their lives. That while they
might not be as great as America is, they are doing just fine thank
you.
And while
America has been squandering it’s money, decimating it’s resources,
and just being cavalier with it’s military, the rest of the world has
done the opposite. They have husbanded their day to day fortunes, and
you can see this in their day-to-day lives.
Summer in Asia
Let’s take a moment to explore Asia. That includes China, but also includes such places as Vietnam, Thailand, Japan and others…
Articles & Links
You’ll not
find any big banners or popups here talking about cookies and privacy
notices. There are no ads on this site (aside from the hosting ads – a
necessary evil). Functionally and fundamentally, I just don’t make money
off of this blog. It is NOT monetized. Finally, I don’t track you
because I just don’t care to.
You can start reading the articles sequentially by going HERE.
You can visit the Index Page HERE to explore by article subject.
You can also ask the author some questions. You can go HERE to find out how to go about this.
One of my all time favorite science fiction authors is the duo that wrote under the name Lewis Padgett. Here is one of their greatest stories. Please enjoy.
Time Locker
by
Lewis Padgett
GALLOWAY PLAYED by ear, which would ha~e been all right had he been a musician—but he was a scientist. A drunken and erratic one, but good. He’d wanted to be an experimental technician, and would have been excellent at it, for he had a streak of genius at times. Unfortunately, there had been no funds for such specialized education, and now Galloway, by profession an integrator machine supervisor, maintained his laboratory purely as a hobby. It was the damndest-looking lab in six states. Galloway had spent ten months building what he called a liquor organ, which occupied most of the space. He could recline on a comfortably padded couch and, by manipulating buttons, siphon drinks of marvelous quantity, quality, and variety down his scarified throat. Since he had made the liquor organ during a protracted period of drunkenness, he never remembered the basic principles of its construction. In a way, that was a pity.
There was a little of everything in the lab, much of it incongruous. Rheostats had little skirts on them, like ballet dancers, and vacuously grinning faces of clay. A generator was conspicuously labeled, “Monstro,” and a much smaller one rejoiced in the name of “Bubbles.” Inside a glass retort was a china rabbit, and Galloway alone knew how it had got there. Just inside the door was a hideous iron dog, originally intended for Victorian lawns or perhaps for Hell, and its hollowed ears served as sockets for test tubes.
“But how do you do it?” Vanning asked.
Galloway, his lank form reclining under the liquor organ, siphoned a shot of double Martini into his mouth. “Huh?”
“You heard me. I could get you a swell job if you’d use that screwball brain of yours. Or even learn to put up a front.”
“Tried it,” Galloway mumbled. “No use. I can’t work when I concentrate, except at mechanical stuff. I think my subconscious must have a high I.Q.”
Vanning, a chunky little man with a scarred, swarthy face, kicked his heels against Monstro. Sometimes Galloway annoyed him. The man never realized his own potentialities, or how much they might mean to Horace Vanning, Commerce Analyst. The “commerce,” of course, was extra-legal, but the complicated trade relationships of 1970 left many loopholes a clever man could slip through. The fact of the matter was, Vanning acted in an advisory capacity to crooks. It paid well. A sound knowledge of jurisprudence was rare in these days; the statutes were in such a tangle that it took years of research before one could even enter a law school. But Vanning had a staff of trained experts, a colossal library of transcripts, decisions, and legal data, and, for a suitable fee, he could have told Dr. Crippen how to get off scot-free.
The shadier side of his business was handled in strict privacy, without assistants. The matter of the neuro-gun, for example— Galloway had made that remarkable weapon, quite without realizing its importance. He had hashed it together one evening, piecing out the job with court plaster when his welder went on the fritz. And he’d given it to Vanning, on request. Vanning didn’t keep it long. But already he had earned thousands of credits by lending the gun to potential murderers. As a result, the police department had a violent headache.
A man in the know would come to Vanning and say, “I heard you can beat a murder rap. Suppose I wanted to—”
‘~‘Hold on! I can’t condone anything like that.”
“Huh? But—”
“Theoretically, I suppose a perfect murder might be possible. Suppose a new sort of gun had been invented, and suppose—just for
the sake of an example—it was in a locker at the Newark Stratoship Field.”
“Huh?”
“I’m just theorizing. Locker Number 7~, combination thirty-blueeight. These little details always help one to visualize a theory, don’t they?”
“You mean—”
“Of course if our murderer picked up this imaginary gun and used it, he’d be smart enough to have a postal box ready, addressed to.
say .. . Locker 40, Brooklyn Port. He could slip the weapon into the box, seal it, and get rid of the evidence at the nearest mail conveyor. But that’s all theorizing. Sorry I can’t help you. The fee for an interview is three thousand credits. The receptionist will take your check.”
Later, conviction would be impossible. Ruling 87-M, Illinois Precinct, case of State vs. Dupson, set the precedent. Cause of death must be determined. Element of accident must be considered. As Chief Justice Duckett had ruled during the trial of Sanderson vs. Sanderson, which involved the death of the accused’s mother-in-law— Surely the prosecuting attorney, with his staff of toxicological experts, must realize that— And in short, your honor, I must respectfully request that the case be dismissed for lack of evidence and proof of cams mortis— Galloway never even found out that his neuro-gun ‘was a dangerous weapon. But Vanning haunted the sloppy laboratory, avidly watching the results of his friends’ scientific doodling. More than once he had acquired handy little devices in just this fashion. The trouble was, Galloway wouldn’t work!
He took another sip of Martini, shook his head, and unfolded his lanky limbs. Blinking, he ambled over to a cluttered workbench and began toying with lengths of wire.
“Making something?”
“Dunno. Just fiddling. That’s the way it goes. I put things together, and sometimes they work. Trouble is, I never know exactly what they’re going to do. Tsk!” Galloway dropped the wires and returned to his couch. “Hell with it.”
He was, Vanning reflected, an odd duck. Galloway was essentially amoral, thoroughly out of place in this too-complicated world. He seemed to watch, with a certain wry amusement, from a vantage point of his own, rather disinterested for the most part. And he made things—
But always and only for his own amusement. Vanning sighed and glanced around the laboratory, his orderly soul shocked by the melee. Automatically he picked up a rumpled smock from the floor, and looked for a hook. Of course there was none. Galloway, running short of conductive metal, had long since ripped them out and used them in some gadget or other.
The so-called scientist was creating a zombie, his eyes half closed. Vanning went over to a metal locker in one corner and opened the door. There were no hooks, but he folded the smock neatly and laid it on the floor of the locker.
Then he went back to his perch on Monstro.
“Have a drink?” Galloway asked.
Vanning shook his head. “Thanks, no. I’ve got a case coming up tomorrow.”
“There’s always thiamin. Filthy stuff. I work better when I’ve got pneumatic cushions around my brain.”
“Well, I don’t.”
“It is purely a matter of skill,” Galloway hummed, “to which each may attain if he wili. . . . What are you gaping at?”
“That—locker,” Vanning said, frowning in a baffled way. “What the—” He got up. The metal door hadn’t been securely latched and had swung open. Of the smock Vanning had placed within the metal compartment there was no trace.
“It’s the paint,” Galloway explained sleepily. “Or the treatment. I bombarded it with gamma rays. But it isn’t good for anything.”
Vanning went over and swung a fluorescent into a more convenient position. The locker wasn’t empty, as he had at first imagined. The smock was no longer there, but instead there was a tiny blob of—something, pale-green and roughly spherical.
“It melts things?” Vanning asked, staring. “Uh-huh. Pull it out. You’ll see.”
Vanning felt hesitant about putting his hand inside the locker. Instead, he found a long pair of test-tube clamps and teased the blob out. It was— Vanning hastily looked away. His eyes hurt. The green blob was changing in color, shape and size. A crawling, nongeometrical blur of motion rippled over it. Suddenly the clamps were remarkably heavy.
No wonder. They were gripping the original smock.
“It does that, you know,” Galloway said absently. “Must be a reason, too. I put things in the locker and they get small. Take ‘em out, and they get big again. I suppose I could sell it to a stage magician.” His voice sounded doubtful.
Vanning sat down, fingering the smock and staring at the metal locker. It was a cube, approximately 3 X 3 X 5, lined with what seemed to be grayish paint, sprayed on. Outside, it was shiny black.
“How’d you do it?”
“Huh? I dunno. Just fiddling around.” Galloway sipped his zombie. “Maybe it’s a matter of dimensional extension. My treatment may have altered the spatio-temporal relationships inside the locker. I wonder what that means?” he murmured in a vague aside. “Words frighten me sometimes.”
Vanning was thinking about tesseracts. “You mean it’s bigger inside than it is outside?”
“A paradox, a paradox, a most delightful paradox. You tell me. I suppose the inside of the locker isn’t in this space-time continuum at all. Here, shove that bench in it. You’ll see.” Galloway made no move to rise; he waved toward the article of furniture in question.
“You’re right. That bench is bigger than the locker.”
“So it is. Shove it in a bit at a time. That corner first. Go ahead.”
Vanning wrestled with the bench. Despite his shortness, he was stockily muscular.
“Lay the locker on its back. It’ll be easier.”
“I. . . uh!.. . 0. K. Now what?”
“Edge the bench down into it.”
Vanning squinted at his companion, shrugged, and tried to obey. Of course the bench wouldn’t go into the locker. One corner did, that was all. Then, naturally, the bench stopped, balancing precariously at an angle.
“Well?”
“Wait.”
The bench moved. It settled slowly downward. As Vanning’s jaw dropped, the bench seemed to crawl into the locker, with the gentle motion of a not-too-heavy object sinking through water. It wasn’t sucked down. It melted down. The portion still outside the locker was unchanged. But that, too, settled, and was gone.
Vanning craned forward. A blur of movement hurt his eyes. Inside the locker was—something. It shifted its contours, shrank, and became a spiky sort of scalene pyramid, deep-purple in hue.
It seemed to be less than four inches across at its widest point.
“I don’t believe it,” Vanning said.
Galloway grinned. “As the Duke of Wellington remarked to the subaltern, it was a demned small bottle, sir.”
“Now, wait a minute. How the devil could I put an eight-foot bench inside of a five-foot locker?”
“Because of Newton,” Galloway said. “Gravity. Go fill a test tube with water and I’ll show you.”
“Wait a minute . . . 0. K. Now what?”
“Got it brim-full? Good. You’ll find some sugar cubes in that drawer labeled ‘Fuses.’ Lay a cube on top of the test tube, one corner down so it touches the water.”
Vanning racked the tube and obeyed. “Well?”
“What do you see?”
“Nothing. The sugar’s getting wet. And melting.”
“So there you are,” Galloway said expansively. Vanning gave him a brooding look and turned back to the tube. The cube of sugar was slowly dissolving and melting down.
Presently it was gone.
“Air and water are different physical conditions. In air a sugar cube can exist as a sugar cube. In water it exists in solution. The corner of it extending into water is subject to aqueous conditions. So it alters physically, though not chemically. Gravity does the rest.”
“Make it clearer.”
“The analogy’s clear enough, dope. The water represents the particular condition existing inside that locker. The sugar cube represents the workbench. Now! The sugar soaked up the water and gradually dissolved it, so gravity could pull the cube down into the tube as it melted. See?”
“I think so. The bench soaked up the. . . the x condition inside the locker, eh? A condition that shrank the bench—”
“In partis, not in toto. A little at a time. You can shove a human body into a small container of sulphuric acid, bit by bit.”
“Oh,” Vanning said, regarding the cabinet askance. “Can you get the bench out again?”
“Do it yourself. Just reach in and pull it out.”
“Reach in? I don’t want my hand to melt!”
“It won’t. The action isn’t instantaneous. You saw that yourself. It takes a few minutes for the change to take place. You can reach into the locker without any ill effects, if you don’t leave your hand exposed to the conditions for more than a minute or so. I’ll show you.” Galloway languidly arose, looked around, and picked up an empty demijohn. He dropped this into the locker.
The change wasn’t immediate. It occurred slowly, the demijohn altering its shape and size till it was a distorted cube the apparent size of a cube of sugar. Galloway reached down and brought it up again, placing the cube on the floor.
It grew. It was a demijohn again.
“Now the bench. Look out.”
Galloway rescued the little pyramid. Presently it became the original workbench.
“You see? I’ll bet a storage company would like this. You could probably pack all the furniture in Brooklyn in here, but there’d be trouble in getting what you wanted out again. The physical change, you know—”
“Keep a chart,” Vanning suggested absently. “Draw a picture of how the thing looks inside the locker, and note down what it was.”
“The legal brain,” Galloway said. “I want a drink.” He returned to his couch and clutched the siphon in a grip of death.
“I’ll give you six credits for the thing,” Vanning offered.
“Sold. It takes up too much room anyway. Wish I could put it inside itself.” The scientist chuckled immoderately. “That’s very funny.”
“Is it?” Vanning said. “Well, here you are.” He took credit coupons from his wallet. “WThere’ll I put the dough?”
“Stuff it into Monstro. He’s my bank. . . . Thanks.”
“Yeah. Say, elucidate this sugar business a bit,will you? It isn’t just gravity that affects the cube so it slips into a test tube. Doesn’t the water soak up into the sugar—”
“You’re right at that. Osmosis. No, I’m wrong. Osmosis has something to do with eggs. Or is that ovulation? Conduction, convection
—absorption! Wish I’d studied physics; then I’d know the right words. Just a zoot stoop, that’s me. I shall take the daughter of the Vine to spouse,” Galloway finished incoherently and sucked at the siphon.
“Absorption,” Vanning scowled. “Only not water, being soaked up by the sugar. The . . . the conditions existing inside the locker, being soaked up by your workbench—in that particular case.
“Like a sponge or a blotter.”
“The bench?”
“Me,” Galloway said succinctly, and relapsed into a happy silence, broken by occasional gurgles as he poured liquor down his scarified gullet. Vanning sighed and turned to the locker. He carefully closed and latched the door before lifting the metal cabinet in his muscular arms.
“Going? G’night. Fare thee well, fare thee well—”
“Night.”
“Fare—thee—well!” Galloway ended, in a melancholy outburst of tunefulness, as he turned over preparatory to going to sleep.
Vanning sighed again and let himself out into the coolness of the night. Stars blazed in the sky, except toward the south, where the aurora of Lower Manhattan dimmed them. The glowing white towers of skyscrapers rose in a jagged pattern. A sky-ad announced the virtues of Vambulin—”It Peps You Up.”
His speeder was at the curb. Vanning edged the locker into the trunk compartment and drove toward the Hudson Floataway, the quickest route downtown. He was thinking about Poe.
The Purloined Letter, which had been hidden in plain sight, but re-folded and re-addressed, so that its superficial appearance was changed. Holy Hutton! What a perfect safe the locker would make! No thief could crack it, for the obvious reason that it wouldn’t be locked. No thief would want to clean it out. Vanning could fill the locker with credit coupons and instantly they’d become unrecognizable. It was the ideal cache.
How the devil did it work?
There was little use in asking Galloway. He played by ear. A primrose by the river’s rim a simple primrose was to him—not Prim ula vulgaris.
Syllogisms were unknown to him. He reached the conclusion without the aid of either major or minor premises.
Vanning pondered. Two objects cannot occupy the same space at the same time. Ergo, there was a different sort of space in the locker— But Vanning was pumping at conclusions. There was another answer—the right one. He hadn’t guessed it yet.
Instead, he tooled the speeder downtown to the office building where he maintained a floor, and brought the locker upstairs in the freight lift. He didn’t put it in his private office; that would have been too obvious. He placed the metal cabinet in one of the storerooms, sliding a file cabinet in front of it for partial concealment. It wouldn’t do to have the clerks using this particular locker.
Vanning stepped back and considered. Perhaps— A bell rang softly. Preoccupied, Vanning didn’t hear it at first.
When he did, he went back to his own office and pressed the acknowledgment button on the Winchell. The gray, harsh, bearded face of Counsel Hatton appeared, filling the screen.
“Hello,” Vanning said.
Hatton nodded. “I’ve been trying to reach you at your home. Thought I’d try the office—”
“I didn’t expect you to call now. The trial’s tomorrow. It’s a bit late for discussion, isn’t it?”
“Dugan & Sons wanted me to speak to you. I advised against it.”
“Oh?”
Hatton’s thick gray brows drew together. “I’m prosecuting, you know. There’s plenty of evidence against Macllson.”
“So you say. But peculation’s a difficult charge to prove.”
“Did you get an injunction against scop?”
“Naturally,” Vanning said. “You’re not using truth serum on my client!”
“That’ll prejudice the jury.”
“Not on medical grounds. Scop affects Macllson harmfully. I’ve got a covering prognosis.”
“Harmfully is right!” Hatton’s voice was sharp. “Your client embezaled those bonds, and I can prove it.”
“Twenty-five thousand in credits, it comes to, eh? That’s a lot for Dugan & Sons to lose. What about that hypothetical case I posed? Suppose twenty thousand were recovered—”
“Is this a private beam? No recordings?”
“Naturally. Here’s the cut-off.” Vanning held up a metal-tipped cord. “This is strictly sub rosa.”
“Good,” Counsel Hatton said. “Then I can ‘Call you a lousy shyster.”
“Tcli!”
“Your gag’s too old. It’s moth-eaten. Macllson swiped five grand in bonds, negotiable into credits. The auditors start checking up. MacIlson comes to you. You tell him to take twenty grand more, and offer to return that twenty if Dugan & Sons refuse to prosecute. Macllson splits with you on the five thousand, and on the plat standard, that ain’t hay.”
“I don’t admit to anything like that.”
“Naturally you don’t, not even on a closed beam. But it’s tacit. However, the gag’s moth-eaten, and my clients won’t play ball with you. They’re going to prosecute.”
“You called me up just to tell me that?”
“No, I want to settle the jury question. Will you agree to let ‘em use scop on the panel?”
“0. K.,” Vanning said. He wasn’t depending on a fixed jury tomorrow. His battle would be based on legal technicalities. With scop-tested talesmen, the odds would be even. And such an arrangement would save days or weeks of argument and challenge.
“Good,” Hatton grunted. “You’re going to get your pants licked off.”
Vanning replied with a mild obscenity and broke the connection. Reminded of the pending court fight, he forced the matter of the fourth-dimensional locker out of his mind and left the office. Later— Later would be time enough to investigate the possibilities of the remarkable cabinet more thoroughly. Just now, he didn’t want his brain cluttered with nonessentials. He went to his apartment, had the servant mix him a short highball, and dropped into bed.
And, the next day, Vanning won his case. He based it on complicated technicalities and obscure legal precedents. The crux of the matter was that the bonds had not been converted into government credits. Abstruse economic charts proved that point for Vanning. Conversion of even five thousand credits would have caused a fluctuation in the graph line, and no such break existed. Vanning’s experts went into monstrous detail.
In order to prove guilt, it would have been necessary to show, either actually or by inference, that the bonds had been in existence since last December 20th, the date of their most recent check-and-recording. The case of Donovan vs. Jones stood as a precedent.
Hatton jumped to his feet. “Jones later confessed to his defalcation, your honor!”
“Which does not affect the original decision,” Vanning said smoothly.
“Retroaction is not admissible here. The verdict was not proven.”
“Counsel for the defense will continue.”
Counsel for the defense continued, building up a beautifully intricate edifice of casuistic logic.
Hatton writhed. “Your honor! I—”
“If my learned opponent can produce one bond—just one of the bonds in question—I will concede the case.”
The presiding judge looked sardonic. “Indeed! If such a piece of evidence could be produced, the defendant would be jailed as fast as I could pronounce sentence. You know that very well, Mr. Vanfling. Proceed.”
“Very well. My contention, then, is that the bonds never existed. They were the result of a clerical error in notation.”
“A clerical error in a Pederson Calculator?”
“Such errors have occurred, as I shall prove. If I may call my next witness—”
Unchallenged,. the witness, a math technician, explained how a Pederson Calculator can go haywire. He cited cases.
Hatton caught him up on one point. “I protest this proof. Rhodesia, as everyone knows, is the location of a certain important experimental industry. Witness has refrained from stating the nature of the work performed in this particular Rhodesian factory. Is it not a fact that the Henderson United Company deals largely in radioactive ores?”
“Witness will answer.”
“I can’t. My records don’t include that information.”
“A significant omission,” Hatton snapped. “Radioactivity damages the intricate mechanism of a Pederson Calculator. There is no radium nor radium by-product in the offices of Dugan & Sons.”
Vanning stood up. “May I ask if those offices have been fumigated lately?”
“They have. It is legally required.”
“A type of chlorine gas was used.”
“Yes.”
“I wish to call my next witness.”
The next witness, a physicist and official in the Ultra Radium Institute, explained that gamma radiations affect chlorine strongly, causing ionization. Living organisms could assimilate by-products of radium and transmit them in turn. Certain clients of Dugan & Sons had been in contact with radioactivity— “This is ridiculous, your honor! Pure theorization—”
Vanning looked hurt. “I cite the case of Dangerfield vs. Austro Products, California, 1963. Ruling states that the uncertainy factor is prime admissible evidence. My point is simply that the Pederson Calculator which recorded the bonds could have been in error. If this be true, there were no bonds, and my client is guiltless.”
“Counsel will continue,” said the judge, wishing he were Jeffries so he could send the whole damned bunch to the scaffold. Jurisprudence should be founded on justice, and not be a three-dimensional chess game. But, of course, it was the natural development of the complicated political and economic factors of modern civilization. It was already evident that Vanning would win his case.
And he did. The jury was directed to find for the defendant. On a last, desperate hope, Hatton raised a point cirorder and demanded scop, but his petition was denied. Vanning winked at his opponent and closed his brief case.
That was that.
Vanning returned to his office. At four-thirty that afternoon trouble started to break. The secretary announced a Mr. Macllson, and was pushed aside by a thin, dark, middle-aged man lugging a gigantic suedette suitcase.
“Vanning! I’ve got to see you—”
The attorney’s eye hooded. He rose from behind his desk, dismissing the secretary with a jerk of his head. As the door closed, Vanning said brusquely, “What are you doing here? I told you to stay away from me. What’s in that bag?”
“The bonds,” Macllson explained, his voice unsteady. “Something’s gone wrong—”
“You crazy fool! Bringing the bonds here—” With a leap Vanning was at the door, locking it. “Don’t you realize that if Hatton gets his hands on that paper, you’ll be yanked back to jail? And I’ll be disbarred! Get ‘em out of here.”
“Listen a minute, will you? I took the bonds to Finance Unity, as you told me, but . . . but there was an officer there, waiting for me. I saw him just in time. If he’d caught me—”
Vanning took a deep breath. “You were supposed to leave the bonds in that subway locker for two months.”
Macllson pulled a news sheet from his pocket. “But the government’s declared a freeze on ore stocks and bonds. It’ll go into effect in a week. I couldn’t wait—the money would have been tied up indefinitely.”
“Let’s see that paper.” Vanning examined it and cursed softly. “Where’d you get this?”
“Bought it from a boy outside the jail. I wanted to check the current ore quotations.”
“Uh-huh. I see. Did it occur to you that this sheet might be faked?”
Macllson’s jaw dropped. “Fake?”
“Exactly. Hatton figured I might spring you, and had this paper ready. You bit. You led the police right to the evidence, and a swell spot you’ve put me in.”
“B-but—”
Vanning grimaced. “Why do you suppose you saw that cop at Finance Unity? They could have nabbed you any time. But they wanted to scare you into heading for my office, so they could catch both of us on the same hook. Prison for you, disbarment for me. Oh, hell!”
Macllson licked his lips. “Can’t I get out a back door?”
“Through the cordon that’s undoubtedly waiting? Orbs! Don’t be more of a sap than you can help.”
“Can’t you—hide the stuff?”
“Where? They’ll ransack this office with X rays. No, I’ll just—” Vanning stopped. “Oh. Hide it, you said. Hide it—”
He whirled to the dictograph. “Miss Horton? I’m in conference. Don’t disturb me for anything. If anybody hands you a search warrant, insist on verifying it through headquarters. Got me? 0. K.”
Hope had returned to Macllson’s face. “Is it all right?”
“Oh, shut up!” Vanning snapped. “Wait here for me. Be back directly.” He headed for a side door and vanished. In a surprisingly short time he returned, awkardly lugging a metal cabinet.
“Help me . . . oh! . . . here. In this corner. Now get out.”
“But—”
“Flash,” Vanning ordered. “Everything’s under control. Don’t talk. You’ll be arrested, but they can’t hold you without evidence. Come back as soon as you’re sprung.” He urged Macllson to the door, unlocked it, and thrust the man through. After that, he returned to the cabinet, swung open the door, and peered in. Em~ty. Sure.
The suedette suitcase— -
Vanning worked it into the locker, breathing hard. It took a little time, since the valise was larger than the metal cabinet. But at last he relaxed, watching the brown case shrink and alter its outline till it was tiny and distorted, the shape of an elongated egg, the color of a copper cent piece.
“Whew!” Vanning said.
Then he leaned closer, staring. Inside the locker, something was moving. A grotesque little creature less than four inches tall was visible. It was a shocking object, all cubes and angles, a bright green in tint, and it was obvious~y alive.
Someone knocked on the door.
The tiny—thing—was busy with the copper-colored egg. Like an ant, it was lifting the egg and trying to pull it away. Vanning gasped and reached into the locker. The fourth-dimensional creature dodged. It wasn’t quick enough. Vanning’s hand descended, and he felt wriggling movement against his palm.
He squeezed.
The movement stopped. He let go of the dead thing and pulled his hand back swiftly.
The door shook under the impact of fists.
Vanning closed the locker and called, “Just a minute.”
“Break it down,” somebody ordered.
But that wasn’t necessary. Vanning put a painful smile on his face and turned the key. Counsel Hatton came in, accompanied by bulky policemen. “We’ve got Macllson,” he said.
“Oh? Why?”
For answer Hatton jerked his hand. The officers began to search the room, Vanning shrugged.
“You’ve jumped the gun,” he said. “Breaking and entering—”
“We’ve got a warrant.” -
“Charge?” -
“The bonds, of course.” Hatton’s voice was weary. “I don’t know where you’ve hid that suitcase, but we’ll find it.”
“What suitcase?” Vanning wanted to know.
“The one Macllson had when he came in. The one he didn’t have when he went out.”
“The game,” Vanning said sadly, “is up. You win.”
“Eh?”
“If I tell you what I did with the suitcase, will you put in a good word for me?”
“Why. . . yeah. Where—”
“I ate it,” Vanning said, and retired to the couch, where he settled himself for a nap. Hatton gave him a long, hating look. The officers tore in— They passed by the locker, after a casual glance inside. The X rays
revealed nothing, in walls, floor, ceiling, or articles of furniture. The other offices were searched, too. Vanning applauded the painstaking job.
In the end, Hatton gave up. There was nothing else he could do.
“I’ll clap suit on you tomorrow,” Vanning promised. “Same time I get a habeas corpus on Macllson.”
“Step to hell,” Hatton growled.
“‘By now.”
Vanning waited till his unwanted guests had departed. Then, chuckling quietly, he went to the locker and opened it.
The copper-colored egg that represented the suedette suitcase had vanished. Vanning groped inside the locker, finding nothing.
The significance of this didn’t strike Vanning at first. He swung the cabinet around so that it faced the window. He looked again, with identical results.
The locker was empty.
Twenty-five thousand credits in negotiable ore bonds had disappeared.
Vanning started to sweat. He picked up the metal box and shook it. That didn’t help. He carried it across the room and set it up in another corner, returning to search the floor with painstaking accuracy. Holy— Hatton?
No. Vanning hadn’t let the locker out of his sight from the time the police had entered till they left. An officer had swung open the cabinet’s door, looked inside, and closed it again. After that the door had remained shut, till just now.
The bonds were gone.
So was the abnormal little creature Vanning had crushed. All of which meant—what?
Vanning approached the locker and closed it, clicking the latch into position. Then he reopened it, not really expecting that the copper-colored egg would reappear.
He was right. It didn’t.
Vanning staggered to the Winchell and called Galloway.
“Whatzit? Huh? Oh. What do you want?” The scientist’s gaunt face appeared on the screen, rather the worse for wear. “I got a hangover. Can’t use thiamin, either. I’m allergic to it. How’d your case come out?”
“Listen,” Vanning said urgently, “I put something inside that damn—locker of yours and now it’s gone.”
“The locker? That’s funny.”
“No! The thing I put in it. A . . . a suitcase.”
Galloway shook his head thoughtfully. “You never know, do you? I remember once I made a—”
“The hell with that. I want that suitcase back!”
“An heirloom?” Galloway suggested.
“No, there’s money in it.”
“Wasn’t that a little foolish of you? There hasn’t been a bank failure since 1949. Never suspected you were a miser, Vanning. Like to have the stuff around, so you can run it through your birdlike fingers, eh?”
“You’re drunk.”
“I’m trying,” Galloway corrected. “But I’ve built up an awful resistance over a period of years. It takes time. Your call’s already set me back two and a half drinks. I must put an extension on the siphon, so I can Winchell and guzzle at the same time.”
Vanning almost chattered incoherently into the mike. “My suitcase! What happened to it? I want it back.”
“\Vell, I haven’t got it.”
“Can’t you find out where it is?”
“Dunno. Tell me the details. I’ll see what I can figure out.” Vanning complied, revising his story as caution prompted. “0. K.,” Galloway said at last, rather unwillingly. “I hate working out theories, but just as a favor. . . . My diagnosis will cost you fifty credits.”
“What? Now listen—” -
“Fifty credits,” Galloway repeated unflinchingly. “Or no prognosis.”
“How do I know you can get it back for me?”
“Chances are I can’t. Still, maybe . . . I’ll have to go over to Mechanistra and use some of their machines. They charge a good bit, too. But I’ll need forty-brain-power calculators—”
“0. K., 0. K.!” Vanning growled. “Hop to it. I want that suitcase back.”
“What interests me is that little bug you squashed. In fact, that’s the only reason I’m tackling your problem. Life in the fourth dimension—” Galloway trailed off, murmuring. His face faded from the screen. After a while Vanning broke the connection.
He re-examined the locker, finding nothing new. Yet the suedette suitcase had vanished from it, into thin air. Oh, hell!
Brooding over his sorrows, Vanning shrugged into a top coat and dined vinously at the Manhattan Roof. He felt very sorry for himself. -
The next day he felt even sorrier. A call to Galloway had given the blank signal, so Vanning had to mark time. About noon Macllson dropped in. His nerves were shot.
“You took your time in springing me,” he started immediately. “Well, what now? Have you got a drink anywhere around?”
“You don’t need a drink,” Vanning grunted. “You’ve got a skinful already, by the look of you. Run down to Florida and wait till this blows over.”
“I’m sick of waiting. I’m going to South America. I want some credits.”
“Wait’ll I arrange to cash the bonds.”
“I’ll take the bonds. A fair half, as we agreed.”
Vanning’s eyes narrowed. “And walk out into the hands of the police. Sure.”
Macllson looked uncomfortable. “I’ll admit I made a boner. But this time—no, I’ll play smart now.”
“You’ll wait, you mean.”
“There’s a friend of mine on the roof parking lot, in a helicopter. I’ll go up and slip him the bonds, and then I’ll just walk out. The police won’t find anything on me.”
“I said no,” Vanning repeated. “It’s too dangerous.”
“It’s dangerous as things are. If they locate the bonds—”
“They won’t.”
“Where’d you hide ‘em?”
“That’s my business.”
Macllson glowered nervously. “Maybe. But they’re in this building. You couldn’t have finagled ‘em out yesterday before the cops came. No use playing your luck too far. Did they use X rays?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I heard Counsel Hatton’s got a batch of experts going over the blueprints on this building. He’ll find your safe. I’m getting out of here before he does.” -
Vanning patted the air. “You’re hysterical. I’ve taken care of you, haven’t I? Even though you almost screwed the whole thing up.”
“Sure,” Macllson said, pulling at his lip. “But I”— He chewed a fingernail. “Oh, damn! I’m sitting on the edge of a volcano with termites under me. I can’t stay here and wait till they find the bonds. They can’t extradite me from South America—where I’m going, anyway.”
“You’re going to wait,” Vanning said firmly. “That’s your best chance.”
There was suddenly a gun in Macllson’s hand. “You’re going to give me half the bonds. Right now. I don’t trust you a little bit. You figure you can stall me along—hell, get those bonds!”
“No,” Vanning said.
“I’m not kidding.”
“I know you aren’t. I can’t get the bonds.”
“Eh? Why not?”
“Ever heard of a time lock?” Vanning asked, his eyes watch-
ful. “You’re right; I put the suitcase in a concealed safe. But I can’t open that safe till a certain number of hours have passed.”
“Mm-rn.” Macllson pondered. “When—”
“Tomorrow.”
“All right. You’ll have the bonds for me then?”
“If you want them. But you’d better change your mind. It’d be safer.”
For answer MadIson grinned - over his shoulder as he went out. Vanning sat motionless for a long time. He was, frankly, scared.
The trouble was, Macllson was a manic-depressive type. He’d kill. Right now, he was cracking under the strain, and imagining himself a desperate fugitive. Well—precautions would be advisable.
Vanning called Galloway again, but got no answer. He left a message on the recorder and thoughtfully looked into the locker again. It was empty, depressingly so. -
That evening Galloway let Vanning into his laboratory. The scientist looked both tired and drunk. He waved comprehensively toward a table, covered with scraps of paper.
“What a headache you gave me! If I’d known the principles behind that gadget, I’d have been afraid to tackle it. Sit down. Have a drink. Got the fifty credits?”
Silently Vanning handed over the coupons. Galloway shoved them into Monstro. “Fine. Now—” He settled himself on the couch. “Now we start. The fifty credit question.”
“Can I get the suitcase back?”
“No,” Galloway said flatly. “At least, I don’t see how it can be worked. It’s in another spatio-temporal sector.”
“Just what does that mean?”
-“It means the locker works something like a telescope, only the thing isn’t merely visual. The locker’s a window, I figure. You can reach through it as well as look through it. It’s an opening into Now plus x.”
Vanning scowled. “So far you haven’t said anything.”
“So far all I’ve got is theory, and that’s all I’m likely to get. Look.
I was wrong originally. The things that went into the locker didn’t
appear in another space, because there would have been a spatial
constant. I mean, they wouldn’t have got smaller. Size is size. Moving
a one-inch cube from here to Mars wouldn’t make it any larger or
smaller.”
“What about a different density in the surrounding medium? ‘Wouldn’t that crush an object?”
“Sure, and it’d stay squashed. It wouldn’t return to its former size and shape when it was taken out of the locker again. X plus y never equals xy. But x times y—”
“So?”
“That’s a pun,” Galloway broke off to explain. “The things we put in the locker went into time. Their time-rate remained constant, but not the spatial relationships. Two things can’t occupy the same place at the same time. Ergo, your suitcase went into a different time. Now plus x. And what x represents I don’t know, though I suspect a few million years.”
Vanning looked dazed. “The suitcase is a million years in the future?”
“Dunno how far, but—I’d say plenty. I haven’t enough factors to finish the equation. I reasoned by induction, mostly, and the results are screwy as hell. Einstein would have loved it. My theorem shows that the universe is expanding and contracting at the same time.”
“What’s that got to do—”
“Motion is relative,” Galloway continued inexorably. “That’s a basic principle. Well, the Universe is expanding, spreading out like a gas, but its component parts are shrinking at the same time. The parts don’t actually grow, you know—not the suns and atoms. They just run away from the central point. Galloping off in all directions . . . where was I? Oh. Actually, the -Universe, taken as a unit, is shrinking.”
“So, it’s shrinking. Where’s my suitcase?”
“I told you. In the future. Inductive reasoning showed that. It’s beautifully simple and logical. And it’s quite impossible of proof, too. A hundred, a thousand, a million years ago the Earth—the Universe
—was larger than it is now. And it continues to contract. Sometime in the future the Earth will be just half as large as it is now. Only we won’t notice it because the Universe will be proportionately smaller.”
Galloway went on dreamily. “We put a workbench into the locker, so it emerged sometime in the future. The locker’s an open window into a different time, as I told you. Well, the bench was affected by the conditions of that period. It shrank, after we gave it a few seconds to soak up the entropy or something. Do I mean entropy? Allah knows. Oh, well.”
“It turned into a pyramid.”
“Maybe there’s geometric distortion, too. Or it might be a visual illusion. Perhaps we can’t get the exact focus. I doubt if things will really look different in the future—except that they’ll be smaller—but we’re using a window into the fourth dimension. We’re taking a pleat in time. It must be like looking through a prism. The alteration in size is real, but the shape and color are altered to our eyes by the fourthdimensional prism.”
“The whole point, then, is that my suitcase is in the future. Eh? But why did it disappear from the locker?”
“What about that little creature you squashed? Maybe he had pals. They wouldn’t be visible till they came into the very narrow focus of the whatchmaycallit, but—figure it out. Sometime in the future, in a hundred or a thousand or a million years, a suitcase suddenly appears out of thin air. One of our descendants investigates. You kill him. His pals come along and carry the suitcase away, out-of range of the locker. In space it may be anywhere, and the time factor’s an unknown quantity. Now plus x. It’s a time locker. Well?”
“Hell!” Vanning exploded. “So that’s all you can tell me? I’m supposed to chalk it up to profit and loss?”
“Uh-huh. Unless you want to crawl into the locker yourself after your suitcase. Lord knows where you’d come out, though. The proportions of the air probably would have changed in a few thousand years. There might be other alterations, too.”
“I’m not that crazy.”
So there he was. The bonds were gone, beyond hope of redemp. tion. Vanning could resign himself to that loss, once he knew the securities wouldn’t fall into the hands of the police. But Macllson was another matter, especially after a bullet spattered against the glassolex window of Vanning’s office.
An interview with Macllson had proved unsatisfactory. The defaulter was convinced that Vanning was trying to bilk him. He was removed forcibly, yelling threats. He’d go to the police—he’d confess— Let him. There was no proof. The hell with him. But, for safety’s sake, Vanning clapped an injunction on his quondam client. It didn’t land. Macllson clipped the official on the jaw and fled.
Now, Vanning suspected, he lurked in dark corners, armed, and anxious to commit homicide. Obviously a manic-depressive type.
Vanning took a certain malicious pleasure in demanding a couple of plain-clothes men to act as his guards. Legally, he was within his rights, since his life had been threatened. Until Macllson was under sufficient restriction, Vanning would be protected. And he made sure that his guards were two of the best shots on the Manhattan force. He also found out that they had been told to keep their eyes peeled for the missing bonds and the suedette suitcase. Vanning Winchelled Counsel Hatton and grinned at the screen.
“Any luck yet?”
“What do you mean?”
“My watchdogs. Your spies. They won’t find the bonds, Hatton. Better call ‘em off. Why make the poor devils do two jobs at once?”
“One job would be enough. Finding the evidence. If Macllson drilled you, I wouldn’t be too unhappy.”
“Well, I’ll see you in court,” Vanning said. “You’re prosecuting Watson, aren’t you?”
“Yes. Are you waiving scop?”
“On the jurors? Sure. I’ve got this case in the bag.”
“That’s what you think,” Hatton said, and broke the beam.
Chuckling, Vanning donned his topcoat, collected the guards, and headed for court. There was no sign of Macllson— Vanning won the case, as he had expected. He returned to his offices, collected a few unimportant messages from the switchboard girl, and walked toward his private suite. As he opened the door, he saw the suedette suitcase on the, carpet in due corner.
He stopped, hand frozen on the latch. Behind him he could hear the heavy footsteps of the guards. Over his shoulder Vanning said, “Wait a minute,” and dodged into the office, slamming and locking the door behind him. He caught the tail end of a surprised question.
The suitcase. There it was, unequivocally. And, quite as unequivocally, the two plain-clothes men, after a very brief conference, were hammering on the door, trying to break it down.
Vanning turned green. He took a hesitant step forward, and then saw the locker, in the corner to which he had moved it. The time locker— That was it. If he shoved the suitcase inside the locker, it would become unrecognizable. Even if it vanished again, that wouldn’t matter. What mattered was the vital importance of getting rid— immediately!—of incriminating evidence.
The door rocked on its hinges. Vanning scuttled toward the suitcase and picked it up. From the corner of his eye he saw movement.
In the air above him, a hand had appeared. It was the hand of a
giant, with an immaculate cuff fading into emptiness. Its huge fingers were reaching down— Vanning screamed and sprang away. He was too slow. The hand descended, and Vanning wriggled impotently against the palm. The hand contracted into a fist. When it opened, what was left of Vanning dropped squashily to the carpet, which it stained. The hand withdrew into nothingness. The door fell in and the plain-clothes men stumbled over it as they entered.
It didn’t take long for Hatton and his cohorts to arrive. Still, there was little for them to do except clean up the mess. The suedette bag, containing twenty-five thousand credits in negotiable bonds, was carried off to a safer place. Vanning’s body was scraped up and removed to the morgue. Photographers flashed pictures, fingerprint experts insufflated their white powder, X ray men worked busily. It was all done with swift efficiency, so that within an hour the office was empty and the door sealed.
Thus there were no spectators to witness the advent of a gigantic hand that appeared from nothingness, groped around as though searching for something, and presently vanished once more— The only person who could have thrown light on the matter was Galloway, and his remarks were directed to Monstro, in the solitude of his laboratory. All he said was:
“So that’s why that workbench materialized for a few minutes here yesterday. Hm-m-m. Now plus x—and x equals about a week. Still, why not? It’s all relative. But—I never thought the Universe was shrinking that fast!”
He relaxed on the couch and siphoned a double Martini.
“Yeah, that’s it,” he murmured after a while. “Whew! I guess Vanning must have been the only guy who ever reached into the middle of next week and—killed himself! I think I’ll get tight.”
And he did.
The End
Stories that Inspired Me
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necessary evil). Functionally and fundamentally, I just don’t make money
off of this blog. It is NOT monetized. Finally, I don’t track you
because I just don’t care to.
This particular post has been compiled from an array of common questions that I have collected over the years. It originates from others which whom I have discussed my history with. It dates back years, though this is the first time any of it was “published” on the internet.
It is my hope that I will be able to provide some direct answers to simple questions that might have eluded the average reader.
These questions are composed of numerous “actual questions” that seem to come up, even after the questioner had read the any of the writings or archived manuscripts. They also include other more detailed “probing” questions that were asked by a number of more inquisitive individuals that I considered worthy to include.
In all cases the reader must realize that I can only answer these questions from my point of view; the view of the participant, and the view of the observer. I cannot provide an absolute answer, because in many cases I do not know the answers.
Questions are in paragraphs with a blue-colored background. Answers are on a white colored background. My comments are all over the place. But, it’s my methodology, don’t ya know.
Let’s get started…
The Philadelphia Experiment
People who are naturally inquisitive have a tendency to know a lot. They tend to read a lot. They tend to look at other sources of information. They tend to come across unusual thoughts, and speculations. Often these are ideas that are foreign to the vast bulk of the population. As such, they are often introduced to “fringe” and other “out of the mainstream” subjects.
These tend to be easily (and quickly) dismissed by the ignorant. They are dismissed simply because they are not promoted by the mainstream news networks.
As such I argue that the respect that everyone has for mainstream American Media is wholly misplaced. They are a very established and well-organized propaganda network. Further, they haven’t produced non-biased news for at least 50 years, if not longer.
Therefore, using them as a measure of credibility is foolish.
Now sometimes, people will read my posts, and try to find connections to other “fringe” subjects. When you start talking about “extraterrestrials”, the first thing people think of is “UFO’s”, then comes “little green aliens”, and then you have the “Reptilians”. Sigh.
You just don’t know what is real and what is fake.
There are a host of “fringe” subjects that all kind of get lumped in the same general “basket” with disclosures. These are the realms of “the X-files” and other similar fiction.
One of which is “The Philadelphia Experiment”.
Today, this subject has taken on “legs” of it’s own. I, however, well remember when I was first exposed to it. Back in the early 1970’s. I had a paperback book titled “The Philadelphia Experiment”. I read it with great interest.
I found the stories about people getting stuck between bulkheads and decks particularly horrific.
This is a screen shot from a television show that depicted what the book claimed to have happened. I do not know if it is true or not. What I can say is that it scared the Dejesus out of me when I read about in middle school.
As I recall, apparently someone took the original book, and wrote in the margins in three different colored pens. Later, someone “discovered” the annotated book. This resulted in their comments being published. All in all, their comments painted a fantastical picture of war-time experimentation gone terribly wrong.
The “Jump Gate” / “Dimensional Portal” that you refer to, the one that you had your first egress from at NAS, NASC Pensacola Florida, is this technology derived from the Philadelphia Experiment?
I do not know.
The impression that I get is that the technology is quite mature and is probably something developed by the <redacted> or another extraterrestrial species. Personally, I do not think that it is wholly a “home grown” human invented technology. It could be, of course. But, I just do not think that it is.
However, the very truth is that I do not know.
What I do know is that;
The technology was used on an American Naval base.
It was mature technology.
There was strict usage protocols involved.
It did deliver me to a “place” not on this Earth.
My destination was wholly inhabited by extraterrestrials.
MK ULTRA
Project MKUltra, also called the CIA mind control program, is the code name given to a program of experiments on human subjects that were designed and undertaken by the United States Central Intelligence Agency—and which were, at times, illegal. Experiments on humans were intended to identify and develop drugs and procedures to be used in interrogations in order to weaken the individual and force confessions through mind control. The project was organized through the Office of Scientific Intelligence of the CIA and coordinated with the U.S. Army Biological Warfare Laboratories.
-Wikipedia
Do you think that you were involved in MK ULTRA?
No.
That program was an experimental program involving a completely different branch of the American government, and at least “officially” terminated in the 1970’s. I did not experience anything even remotely resembling any of the “training” or “events” that have been publicly disclosed.
The MK-Ultra project sounds like the stuff of fiction, but it’s all too real. MK-Ultra was created as part of the Cold War. At the time, the government believed that Russia was experimenting with mind control technology, and the US government wanted to keep pace. Disturbingly, many of the subjects of MK-Ultra had no idea that they were being experimented on.
According to The Washington Times, the project began as a response to soldiers returning home with stories about the mind control techniques used by their “Soviet, Chinese, and North Korean captors.” Originally, the project’s primary goal was to manipulate prisoners of war in order to gain influence with country leaders. However, MK-Ultra expanded quickly into a vast series of subprojects. The Washington Times reported that the subjects of the study were “perception, behavioral analysis, religious cults, personality conditioning, microwaves, sensory deprivation, and hallucinogenic drugs.”
MK-Ultra began as a volunteer-based program, but the government went on to use test subjects who had no idea that they were being experimented on. Declassified CIA documents revealed that one branch of the project used a San Francisco brothel to test the effects of LSD on adults without their knowledge. The men who came to the brothel were served cocktails laced with acid, and the rooms featured two-way mirrors so that CIA operatives could watch the effects of the drug play out.When it was discovered that the CIA were illegally running tests on Americans, the American leadership got nervious and started shredding all documents. Very few precious reports and photographs remain. This is one such photo that managed to elude destruction.
Youth Recruitment
Some people claim that they are chrononauts. (Ah, it’s just a fancy-pansy name for time-traveler.) They argue that they were recruited at an early age and groomed for this role…
Many other people who say that they were recruited for “top secret” roles involving dimensional-travel, and time-travel state that they were recruited at a young age, even genetically programmed for it. Were you?
No.
As far as I know, I was just an average kid who did well in school and was in the right place at the right time, with the right skills when this opportunity “fell into my lap”. Granted, from an early age I was groomed for space.
Anyways, the candidates for my role had to possess …
[1] A technical education. (A bachelor of science at the bare minimum.)
[2] Be qualified to enter the rigorous Naval Aviation program. This meant a battery of tests, personal interviews, physical, emotional and mental tests, and a series of “hoops” that we all had to jump through.
[3] Had to meet a series of other ELF qualification tests that most Naval Aviators apparently failed at. (Lucky me, eh?)
Further, [4] one had to be pre-selected (or perhaps pre-screened) by an extraterrestrial species prior to getting involved in MAJestic.
Secrecy
Questions about what I say relative to the point that I know very little about things…
How can you make any statements regarding MAJestic when you yourself specifically stated that you were “kept in the dark” on many elements of the program?
The statements that I make are educated extrapolations from what I actually know and what I have been exposed to.
I could very well be wrong about many things. So, I must ask the reader this; what is better [1] say and do nothing and let the reader live in ignorance, or [2] provide what little I do actually know and let the reader come to their own conclusions?
I chose the latter.
World-Line Sharing
Do you and Sebastian share the same world-line?
No.
No one shares their reality with another. We share “similar” world-lines and interact with each others “quantum shadows”. We both have the same mission parameters. Yet we operate independently.
Bonus:
Here's some real answers to help explain how consciousness moves about the MWI;
Imagine that the MWI is a big football stadium. You are standing in the middle of it, and trying to listen to different people talking in the stadium. You start by focusing on the child with the balloon. Then you focus on the fat man with a hot dog, then you go to the third cheerleader from the left. You can focus your mind on the specific sounds at will.
The people closest to you will be the easiest to listen in on. Those far from you will be progressively more difficult to hear.
That is exactly how consciousness moves about the MWI.
The only difference is that it doesn't hop around so much. It goes to nearby and adjacent sounds. Those are those naturally easy to hear. Those, and further ones that are loud (like someone yelling or screaming).
The movement towards the loudest, and closest sounds is exactly how consciousness moves about in the MWI.
TIME
We call that "the passage of time".
INTENTION
The "Law of Intention" is directed thought where you intentionally listen to certain sounds and avoid other sounds. That is so that your destination reality that you want manifests.
DIMENSIONAL EGRESS
Now, with the right technology, such as a parabolic hearing aide, you can "zoom" into specific sounds quire easily and exactly. That is how dimensional portals work.
Specific Mission Parameters
What was your “mission” in MAJestic?
This is how the MAJestic leadership understood my role…
My PRIMARY purposed task was to be utilized by an extraterrestrial species so they can monitor the Earth. I was lent to them by MAJestic; “rented out” so to speak. Once I was rented out to them, they implanted an EBP and altered my genetic makeup. I then become their “eyes and ears”.
As such, I was like an “Ambassador of sorts”.
I was never told that this was my role. I learned about it much later.
That was all that the MAJestic leadership knew about. I was to be the "eyes and ears" of an extraterrestrial species though the implantation of a special device inside my skull. This device is known as a EBP.
My SECONDARY task was for MAJestic to monitor my interaction with the sponsoring extraterrestrial species. Then report findings back to MAJestic leadership. This was facilitated in “real time” via ELF communication. MAJestic implanted a series of seven other devices that enabled my actions and behaviors to be monitored. These are ELF devices.
Kit #1 is the “normal” MAJestic kit that all members have.
Kit #2 interfaces with the EPB, and enables dimensional egress.
That is what my MAJestic documentation, the stuff that no one is supposed to know about, says. That is all fine and dandy, but you know, our extraterrestrial benefactors have other plans and other purposes, often far, far beyond human understandings.
Now, this is what my role actually was…
Being implanted with the EBP severely altered my perceptions. As such I was entangled with a biological artifice, and privy to a reality that was much more expansive than what my human senses could provide.
As humans, we have five senses, and perceptions that are processed by our brain. I was connected to a species that had a much more expansive array of perceptions. The EBP permitted me to “tap into” these other perceptions, and obtain exposure to their reality and understandings. It changed me. I could experience more than my “normal” humans. This knowledge and exposure provided me with skills and abilities that “normal” humans have no awareness of.
It took me a while to get used to this enlarged understanding of things, and augmented perceptions, and out of necessity, I developed “coping skills”.
Over time, I was better able to understand what my actual functional role was by the extraterrestrials that implanted the EBP. Saying that it was to “monitor the earth” is a very simplistic understanding. For they have a much larger understanding on how the universe works, and our role in it.
We humans think that the universe is one big singular place and we all share it together on this planet.
Our extraterrestrial benefactors believe that consciousness inhabits world-lines. They tend to cluster together, and this action must be monitored or else catastrophic sentience disruption may occur.
Actually and functionally, I was involved in “dimensional anchoring”. This was a task that facilitated the management of our nursery on the earth for the benefit for the <redacted> extraterrestrials.
In this task, I traversed a number of world-lines of strong similarities in order to keep them “stable”. That is, stable relative to the extraterrestrial requirement. I did this task automatically, and through entanglement with an extraterrestrial entity that had world-line-switching ability by nature of it’s soul structure. In order to achieve entanglement with this other species, I needed to utilize a biological artifice; a “drone” as an intermediary.
It's a very strange thing to say, as most other people who disclose such things to the public talk about "Space Marines", "Reptilians", "enlightened beings", and the healing powers of crystals.
I can positively say, beyond any doubt, that I haven't a clue as to what they are all talking about. I know nothing about anything they so earnestly banter about.
It does not mean that I hold the only keys to the library of knowledge, but rather my experiences are all very limited and defined within a very narrow band. As such I have no experiences that resemble any of the fringe "X-file" like subjects you hear about on the internet.
To fully understand my purpose, and role, you must recognize that humans are very different from extraterrestrials. We are about as similar as an elephant is to a sweet potato.
It is not like you might see on the science fiction movies, or on “Star Trek”, or the “Star Wars” franchise. Actually, if I would be so bold, it is more like a cross between Robert Heinlein’s story “Glory Road” (of which I have a full text reprint here in Metallicman), and Ursula K. Le Guin‘s “Lathe of Heaven”.
Take heed that these other extraterrestrials are [1] much older than us, [2] much more technologically advanced than we are, and [3] substantially better versed in the mechanism of our reality.
Their technology does absolutely look like magic to us humans.
Yeah. What the Hell do you think a real disclosure would look like? Do you honestly believe that it would discuss pulsed infra-ray weapons, shape-shifting reptilians, and enlightened spiritual entities that use crystals to channel thoughts?
I’m going to repeat myself.
This is the real-deal. This is what I was involved with and the trade off that MAJestic worked out with our extraterrestrial benefactors back in the the 1980’s.
Not so exciting, eh?
Sorry, life is not a detective television show with good cops chasing bad guys every week. There are large and long period of dormant and often uninteresting activity.
The only novelty comes from the uniqueness of the characters in the show and the situational environment that the episodes take place in.
Don't you think that a real disclosure would reflect...
[1] different ways of looking at things,
[2] technologies beyond our comprehension, and
[3] an understanding that they could have erased the human race 600 million years ago if they wanted to.
We couldn't fight them with "Space Marines" if we wanted to.
Roles
I refer to various “roles”. This has apparently caused great consternation.
Why do you refer to the roles of “Pilot”, “Commander” and “Drone” when using the artifice?
This is a good question. This is HOW I thought about them. However, this actually might be confusing to the reader. I suggest that the reader adopt the following scheme if they are confused;
Drone = Biological Artifice Device.
Pilot = Extraterrestrial operating the Biological Device.
Commander = MAJestic agent using the Biological Device.
Entanglement Utility
How did entanglement assist you in your “mission”?
Entanglement with an extraterrestrial (via a biological artifice / drone) was the only way that I was able to be trained to use alien or extraterrestrial technology.
Humans could not train me. I needed to be trained by an extraterrestrial. They needed to “get inside my head” and teach me in that manner.
Entanglement was always like being in two places at once. On one hand I was living a life as a "normal" guy int he United States, on the other hand I was fully aware of being an extraterrestrial "pilot" elsewhere. This was a simultaneous real-time experience.
During entanglement, it appeared that the (so called) “drone pilot” trained me. Additionally, the operation of the biological artifice /drone required active operation of the drone pilot.
I could not conduct any world-line travel without the drone pilot helping me by operating the biological artifice. When performing world-line operations, the drone pilot would perform most of the work when in “automatic mode”.
When in “manual mode”, the drone pilot was still involved, even though it’s participation was not obvious to me.
What needs to be understood is that all humans are fully capable of autonomous world-line travel and navigation ourselves. Our thoughts move us in and out and through the various world-lines. This is conducted specifically though ADJACENT world-lines based on thought navigation. We refer to this as “the passage of time”.
The “arrow of time” is the perception of our consciousness as it moves in and out of adjacent world-lines. It is our thoughts (and actions) that contribute to the destination that we often arrive at.
We can use the power of intention; directed thoughts, to navigate our consciousness towards world-lines that we would prefer to live in.
We can use the power of intention to navigate our consciousness toward preferred world-lines that we would prefer to live within. This can be anything that our mind can think about.
This differs substantially from the kind of world-line travel that both the dimensional-portal and the drone pilot / biological artifice was involved in. These portals or techniques transported a person or a consciousness (or both) to a NON-ADJACENT world-line.
We can use a dimensional portal to move anywhere and arrive anywhere. This is anywhere in time and space, as well as within any world-line no matter how strange.
These world-lines could be very odd depending on the deviance variation from your egress (start point) world-line origination.
CARET similarity to EBP / ELF programming
Your programming for the EBP / ELF probes seem to be similar to the programming for the C.A.R.E.T. “hoax”. Is it the same?
I was actually able to read and understand the coding on the CARET photographs. It has been a long time, but it is pretty clear that the photographs show the functional programming of the materials.
CARET example from Isaac.
They utilize an APL-like coding that fits within control ladders to specify behavior(s). Once you know the basics, you can easily see the formatting, and the assignment of variables, identification glyphs, and location within the ladder chains.
The language is similar something that might look like an APL version of a standard ladder language to IEC 61131 part 7. That tells me that the technology is the same and the species that made my probes is the same species that provided the CARET drones.
IEC 61131 is an IEC standard for programmable controllers. It was known as IEC 1131 before the change in numbering system by IEC. The parts of the IEC 61131 standard are prepared and maintained working group 7, programmable control systems, of subcommittee SC 65B of Technical Committee TC65 of the IEC.
Fuzzy Control Language, or FCL, is a language for implementing fuzzy logic, especially fuzzy control. It was standardized by IEC 61131-7. It is a domain-specific programming language: it has no features unrelated to fuzzy logic, so it is impossible to even print "Hello, world!". Therefore, one does not write a program in FCL, but one may write part of it in FCL.
I have visited various cypher websites where some ignorant millennials “prove” that CARET is a hoax.
I wonder; do they have beards, and rainbow colored suspenders as well...
Made by Microsoft Incorporated and assembled in Malaysia.
These jokers could not “decode” or decipher an existing coding language in English, let alone another entirely different technology. Truth this!
Try this. Here’s some APL coding. Convert this into English phrases please;
Travel to Mars
Often, people don’t fully comprehend the complexities of the story as I present it.
They use (what I refer to as) “crutches” to help fill-in blanks and things that aren’t really all that clear to them…
Why did you need to go to Mars?
I never physically “went” to Mars. (I think. Perhaps the off-world medical procedure was on Mars. I don’t know for positive.)
Instead, I was entangled with a biological interface / artifice that was physically located on Mars. This “entanglement” was not like what you the reader might think. It was sort of like me sharing two bodies. I was in two places at once. I was here in my body, on earth, doing my day-to-day activities, and I was completely aware of everything that the drone pilot was doing AS IF I WAS RIGHT THERE IN ITS’ SKIN.
Entanglement does not require physical close proximity.
The drone pilot was in a place that really looked a lot like Mars. However, please take special note. I don’t actually know where it really was. This “Mars” was NOT the Mars that we see on the news and out of photographs from NASA. This is a Mars from a different world-line, a different time, and of course, a completely different history.
Oh, and by the way. The drone pilot lived a very boring and sedentary life most of the time. It resided in a very bland room, doing very bland things, with little in the way of social interaction. It was like being entangled with a golem.
Think about it will ya?
You've got a extraterrestrial species that, by their very biological nature, can see the MWI. Wouldn't it make sense for them to use this ability in everyday life?
Of course, they would use it.
For all those idiots who think that we humans (with our big and powerful American military) can go up against a species that developed planetary spaceflight 600,000 years ago, and go in and out of different world-lines at will, are absolutely delusional.
In order to use the technology in the probes, I needed to access the thought-streams of an extraterrestrial that possessed multi-dimensional ability. This entity was the drone pilot. (This was an extraterrestrial with world-line manipulation ability).
For reasons of safety and security, we shared a drone. That was how I was able to be connected and linked to the extraterrestrial. The drone was located on Mars in a “safe” world-line. Therefore, while I never had to physically go to Mars, that was where my drone was. Thus, I stayed on the earth in this realm. The extraterrestrial drone-pilot stayed on it’s world line and planet. The drone was located on the “safe” Martian world-line.
Why be trained by extraterrestrials?
Why not?
Why did the Mantids or Type-I greys (or another unknown extraterrestrial) need to train you through entanglement?
Because many of the core features of the probes required a non-human understanding and ability to utilize them and unlock their abilities.
Obviously, you cannot have a dog train you how to drive a human-manufactured automobile. You cannot have a snail teach you how to use a cell phone, or use a monkey to teach you how to bake a tasty strudel.
If you want to properly use extraterrestrial technology, they will need to teach you the proper care and use of it. Anything else is just silly.
Personal Benefit.
What benefit would the Mantids give you personally for working with them?
The reward for my participation with the Mantids in this effort was rapid evolutionary soul development through participative exercises. It’s not like they have made promises about this or anything. Rather, it is what naturally happens because my thought streams have been altered, and by the nature of souls, my thoughts establish entanglements. Thus they form and shape, and reshape the garbons, swales and soul components.
Upon my death (in the physical), my “root” soul will evolve into another kind of being (different soul archetypes manifest different physical forms). Possibly even become a Mantid myself. Who knows?
My public life.
Sigh.
All of this is all about what you did for MAJestic, but the truth is aside from your “fantasy world”, you were ONLY an engineer. What did you do in “real life”?
I always wanted to be a space man. I took hard science classes, qualified for Naval Aviation, and entered MAJestic.
I was modified, trained and let loose to be a “normal” guy.
Normal Guy Life.
For the first third of my career, I was a “design engineer”. That means that I designed products. This included computers, appliances, and devices of all sorts. I drew pictures on CAD systems, tested them out, and worked with Industrial design houses to make them attractive.
Professionally, my education was in a joint BS Aerospace / Mechanical Engineering. However, once I was accepted for a pilot role, I dropped the Aerospace / Mechanical program and entered in a simple Mechanical Engineering program so I could immediately enter into the Navy. Later on, I took classes in Electrical Engineering. So my technical background was and still is, Aerospace, Mechanical, and Electrical Engineering.
Hey! Here's a big secret. University degrees are just expensive pieces of paper.
If you really want to be successful, then start providing a service and getting a whole bunch of customers. Working for someone else is foolish.
Be a boss, anything else is below you.
Depending on the company, I took on various roles such as Design Engineer, Product Engineer, Product Manager, Project Manager or Quality Engineer. I was pretty good at it, and in some companies I held the (informal title) role of “gageteer” or “inventor”. There, I would spend significant time making new gizmos and appliances from scratch in the proto-lab.
It is the closest thing that you can come to a “Mad Scientist” in the industry today.
I climbed the management “ladder” and ended up in the top levels of various companies. This is hardly being “only an engineer”. The stakes are higher, the role is more important, and consequences of failure are more sinister. I worked in middle management roles, and then on to senior management, and finally to executive and director levels.
I then advanced into Senior Engineering / Middle Management roles. I managed groups and teams of technical people towards creation of electro-mechanical devices, mechanisms and products for the consumer and OEM market.
After thirty years of this, MAJestic entered my life again. I was “retired”, and everything was put into a dormant state.
When I was retired, I was just starting a VP Engineering position when the President, and the VP Engineering retired / stepped down.
Unfortunately, my retirement eviscerated my career progression.
Retired MAJestic operative.
No one would hire me. Not even as a janitor, or even to clean up dog and cat shit in the local Animal Shelter. I was willing to clean up contagious tainted hospital rooms, and equipment, and they refused offering me the jab… not because I couldn’t do it. But rather because of my retirement and record associated with it.
I was unhirable.
I started at ground zero when I arrived in China, and then worked my way back up the career ladder into Senior Management and Director level positions. I spent a considerable time in Quality, Production, and the Marketing fields. I was hardly “just” an engineer.
Hey! You try building up your life from absolutely nothing. You try with one set of underwear, and $100 to your name in a new nation where you can’t even fucking speak the language. It was fucking difficult.
说汉语很难。我还在学习。但我的狗比我说话好。
Enjoy being a scientist?
Anyways…
Do you enjoy being a scientist / engineer?
I love to design, invent and make things. Of course, over time, I moved on and advanced beyond this role. There aren’t too many Senior Scientist roles in companies and if you want job stability and financial security, you need to take on management roles.
In one of the companies where I worked (in Milford,
Massachusetts) I was constantly making prototypes of consumer appliances. I would take existing products and using the
tools of Doctor Frankenstein, I would create all kinds of strange creations.
Many of the resulting masterpieces included parts and components from this
company.
I think that the little boy still resides deep down inside of me. While the government can ban this and that, they can’t quench our love for science and the gadgets and gizmos associated with it. My dear reader let me introduce you to the “American Science & Surplus” store.
The store is large and has a very diverse selection of items. Most of it is what they claim it to be. It is surplus. There have everything from test tubes and beakers, to electronic components, to toys for kids and toys for us bigger kids.
Every explorer, scientist, artist, inventor and visionary can find supplies here to bring their concepts to life. It is full of nerdy gags here and there, there is also standardized scientific and engineering equipment large and small to meet your needs. Who knows, maybe you want to build a time machine, or a nuclear engine converter for your motorcycle?
Well, here is the place where you can go.
This place is fantastic. You can spend $20 and get an array of items nostalgic from your childhood. I find this a great place to buy the supplies you need to introduce your young children to basic science principles. I could also easily spend $2000 here. Have a naked gun turret?
Sure, doesn't everyone? They have a naked gun turret cover for you.
Items include nice telescopes to anatomy items.
More surplus examples include Swiss army knives stamped with the address of a company in PA to tiaras and cardboard crowns. Haven't see a Mexican jumping bean since I was a kid....but here?
Yup!
Super fly! And even a super fly eater , Venus Fly Trap is available!
Also you will find many novelty items like a Chinese MIG helmet, some old typewriters, lava lamps, and cold war gas
masks.
Have someone in your life who is hard to buy for? Go here. It is amazing. Go here for the online version; https://www.sciplus.com/
As a result, I have made design disclosures and I do possess numerous American (and International) design patents. Last I checked I still had 11 still active! Imagine that! Obviously someone sees the value in paying the fees to keep them alive.
Though they never bothered to give me the dollar that the contract specified that they fork over to me for relinquishing my ownership rights. Ah, but that's a story for another time.
My most substantive patents are those involving the manipulation of insect behavior. If the user is creative enough, the patents clearly pave the way for the “remote control” of specific insect species. Most notably those that are blood-feeders.
I can tell youse guys stories bout how we tested the effectiveness of the device. We would get inside this 2 meter squared room and sit there for an hour in our underwear. Then we would count the number of bites that they took. Yow! I am not at all "pulling your leg".
Hey! Yeah, and when you are driving on the road today look at all the brake-lights on those cars. They are all LED’s, eh? Who do you think paved the way for their use? Yupper, your’s truly. Oh yeah, and when you see a Brita water filter, you can think about me as well. My products are all over Walmart, K-Mart, and (the now defunct) Sears.
It was the industry that I was in.
Proof
Why don’t you offer PROOF
and prove yourself to the reader?
I ask the reader this; ten years ago did you go grocery
shopping and buy some dairy products like milk or eggs?
Yes. Good.
Now, you prove it to me.
I would like to see photos, receipts, documents, and confirmation from multiple witnesses. Without proof, everything that you say is just nonsense. You could just be saying you bought eggs and milk, when in fact you were actually buying a six pack of Pepsi cola.
I have spelled out everything that I know, as I well understand it. It is up to you, the reader, to accept it or discard it. I can well predict that there will be many who will “prove” that all of this is a “fraud” and a “hoax”. You can join one of those debunking armies if you don’t like what I have to say.
It’s your life. It’s your reality. It’s in your hands. I’m just telling you the way things are.
Why include pretty girls?
Heh heh. Why the Hell not?
Why do you include all the
“pretty girls” that you admit were not part of your program?
The girls had a role. I do not know precisely what the role was, but Sebastian and I were connected to them somehow.
Not only did we fill out the same form, enter the same off-world dimensional portal, but we all had similar characteristics. Sebastian and I were both high-achievers who were aerospace bound. We both possessed technical backgrounds, and we both were “service-to-others” sentience with a desire to help the world and make it better.
The girls were all tops in beauty. They were all kind, and (after talking with them) they all seemed to be of the same sentience and ambitions. We all were gathered together for a reason. We all shared the SAP briefing together, and we all filled out the same handout together.
During operations, I do not recall having anything to do with pretty girls. Either through entanglement, or in my physical life. (Aside from being married to one.)
It wasn’t until after I was retired that I began to associate with large numbers of beautiful girls. From my work office being surrounded by K-POP, and C-POP dance teams, to my many female friends, and various work relationships. The ratio of pretty girls to men is about 20 to one in my work building. (Far, far better than what I had during my university days.) LOL.
Where I live, I am surrounded by all sorts of girls that do their best to fit into the C-Pop and J-Pop culture. I do really enjoy watching them dancing.
No. They were not the same girls that I entered the portal with, but they are all too similar (in type) to dismiss straight out of hand.
Why publish on the internet?
Why did you write this as an internet blog? Why not just simply write a book or two and be done with it?
I suggest you write your own book. This manuscript was written by myself, and I chose this format for my own reasons.
Why talk like you do?
Why do you talk about girls, dating, sex, and penises? I mean it is all over your manuscript, from the moment you entered MAJestic until you describe your current life. Why?
Ah, now to be fair, I also talk about glorious beer served ice cold and a fine sandwich or hamburger. I would love to ramble on about delicious tomatoes and how to grow the best sweetest kinds. I would also like to learn how to make home-made refried beans, and to share some chili recipes.
I also like wine.
And do not get me started on the joys and terrors of having dogs and cats. Those little guys are such a big part of my life.
Here’s a big pink penis. What do ya think? I think it’s glorious.
If you saw a massive, pink penis being carried down the street by hundreds of people, you’d be forgiven for thinking… actually we have no idea what the first thing to spring to your mind would be. But, if you did witness a massive pink penis being carried down the street yesterday, then you’d probably stumbled across Kanamara Matsuri, Japan’s annual penis festival – known locally as the ‘Festival of the Steel Phallus’. Of course.
The festival happens every year on the first Sunday of April, and is held in the Japanese city of Kawasaki. After the lighting of the sacred flame at the Kanayama shrine, a giant pink penis altar is carried around the city in a huge procession.
There’s also penis-shaped sweets, illustrations and carved vegetables as part of the event. Visitors can also buy small penis-shaped souvenirs, which they’re encouraged to rub on a large cast-iron sculpture of a vagina and a pair of legs for good luck. Which couldn’t sound more normal. It’s a tradition that dates back as far as Japan’s Edo Period in the 16th century and originally the festival centered around a local penis-venerating shrine, which was popular with prostitutes who would pray to it for protection from STIs.
The penis altar is also said to help provide marriage harmony and – bizarrely – business protection. These days, the festival is used to raise money for HIV research and it’s become a massive tourist attraction with thousands of people coming from all over to marvel at the penisy splendor of the whole thing.
Sex is an inherent biological motivator. Men will do almost anything to attract the opposite sex, and would likely do anything in their power to procure sexual liaisons with a girl. This is a pretty much well-known fact. (That is, unless they are not a homosexual or sexual deviant of some type. )
It is the understanding of this fact that made Hugh Hefner wealthy. It is the understanding of this fact that made pharmacy companies incredibly wealthy selling Viagra.
Delicious penises on a stick. Women make chocolate covered bananas shaped as phalluses during Honen-sai, a fertility festival at Tagata Shrine in Komaki, Aichi Prefecture, Japan. The traditional Shinto festival celebrates fertility and a bountiful harvest. The principal offering during the festival is a large wooden phallus. Each year a craftsman carves a new phallus from a Japanese cypress tree. It measures almost 2.4 meters (13 feet) long and weights 280kg (620 pounds).
It is the understanding of this basic fact that creates the situation for high-priced escorts and business KTV’s and clubs.
When guys get together, we make fun of sex, and joke about penises. We talk about all kinds of things, just like girls do. However, if you go into “mixed company”, the subject matter is usually not discussed at all. This is true all over the world. Guys talk among other guys about certain things that they won’t talk to gals about.
"Mixed Company" = Men and women together in a group.
Using the “carrot and stick” approach, MAJestic was able to manipulate my brain to motivate me to do certain things and behave in certain ways. I think that is why they had me, and the gals, fill out such a personal questionnaire when I first joined MAJestic.
Per my questionnaire, I like big-boobed chesty women with an oval face, dark hair, and a big charming smile. I like green to brown eyes. Now this is just me, and this is what was programmed in the equipment at NAS NASC.
"Carrot and stick method" = American idiom. A motivational tactic that uses a reward and punishment system to encourage improved performance or behavior.
Seriously, if you (the reader) had the ability to motivate a crew of men to do certain tasks, would not (guaranteed) sex with a hot super-attractive girl be great? Wouldn’t it be a GREATER motivating method than a pen with some kind of conventional work-related motivational saying?
Or are you so shallow that your would prefer the motivational pen?
(You know, like I once got for earning a couple of million dollars for the company. It said “Success is a way of life.” I got the pen, and the CEO bought a brand new Mercedes Benz.)
Motivational pen. There are some people that believe that people are inherently self motivated. All you need to do is to remind them of their obligations. This can be in the form of a pen, or a wall poster showing a kitten hanging onto a lamp shade, or a picture of a beautiful mountain sunset with words of inspiration. I disagree. I think that that is all bullshit.
Be honest now.
Or course, I wrote all these posts as if I were talking to one of my best friends. I just lay it all out, without fear, and not afraid of offending anyone. So I talk about things that most “polite company” would never broach. Sex is a part of my life. I was born with a penis and am going to die with one as well. As a man, I act and talk manly about things that interest men.
I like cars. I like technology. I like food. I like pretty girls. I like drinking delicious wine, and singing. I like getting dressed up and going out on the town. I like to sing Country and Western music, and playing with my dogs and cats. It’s just me, but I am very happy just being me.
I have this routine that when I arrive home, my dog brings his little stuffed bone to me. I then pick it up and throw it for him to go run and get. Yet, I also add a twist. I pretend that I cannot find him. He’s out beside himself trying to say to me “Here I am! Here I am!” and then I throw it for him to go and fetch. Good times. Good times.
Oh, and boy oh boy, does he get upset when we go and wash his soft stuffed toy bone. He carries on so.
The primary motivator for men is sex. This is a common truth that progressive revisionists want to bury behind the new LGBT fantasy. Nonsense, all men love, desire, need and work towards sex.
I am not a woman. I do not know what motivates them. I just know what motivates men.
Here’s what motivates me…
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Motivational girl #1.
Oval face. Long dark hair. Brown or green eyes. Nice rack. And OMG what a smile! Check… check… check…
I what do know is what motivates myself, my friends and my business associates. I know what men like, and what they don’t like. Oh, yes, maybe we all have our various different tastes, most men that I know would be very happy to have the opportunity to meet (and just talk – nothing else) any of these following girls.
And if there is a “connection” who knows… It’s what drives men to accomplish things.
Motivational Girl #2
Oval face. Long dark hair. Brown or green eyes. Nice rack. Soft and nice and sweet. Check… check… check…
Hopefully one of these girls might strike a bone with the readers to help illustrate my point.
Aren’t you just a sicko who are constantly on the hunt for sex?
No, I am just an average man. We all are motivated by sex. Surprise!
(Though many of us are disgusted by the pretend “male feminists” who claim that they would never behave like a man. They do this so that they can procure women and sex by showing a disingenuous face that they believe would appeal to women. Cowards. They are just actors.)
Motivational Girl #3
Oval face. Brown eyes. Chesty. Long dark hair and an OMG smile! This is my personal ideal.
Now, there are real sime-balls out there. No doubt. These guys would take on predatory behavior, target a girl (or a guy) and harm them terribly.
I have seen stories, on the Internet, about “mongrels” who go on sex trips to have sex with as many prostitutes as possible. Usually this is in Mexico, the Philippines and Thailand.
That is not exactly my “cup of tea”.
American idiom that means “Not something one prefers, desires, enjoys, or cares about.”.
Diversity of sexual liaisons could be quite enjoyable when mixed with singing and booze, but I am not as keen on this as I should be. When you get older, some things that you enjoyed as a youth becomes less important. I’m far removed from the realities of these self-centered lifestyles.
There are also some youthful studs who write on the Internet proclaiming that they work at procuring sex all the time and they do it in places such as Vietnam, et al. They claim ridiculous numbers like 300 hook-ups a year. Give me a break!
In reality, the things that they are saying do not match up with the number of times they go to the hospital for STD's. If you have that much sex with strangers you WILL have a doctor on call, and his business card in your wallet.
Motivational Girl #4
Here’s another girl. Can you see why I think that she is attractive?
By the way, if you date ten girls and can’t find one that you would want to have a repeat date with, then you are a real sorry shit.
If you meet 300 girls and are absolutely unable to find one that would want to spend some long-term relationships with you then you must be an absolutely horribly disfigured person AND have the personality of a trashcan.
I know many plain guys that have managed long-term relationships with meeting just one girl. What I know from my own experience, is that when I am with a girl, the truth is that most of the time they want to come back for more.
They want friendship, commitment, courtesy and respect. Gawd, if you can’t have solid relationships after a handful of dates then truly you are a sorry sorry person.
You are going to have sex with a different girl each day, who are not prostitutes, and you don’t have a job or a source of income and can’t speak the language. Yeah, there are idiots that believe this nonsense.
My point is along the lines of why would anyone WANT to write such
nonsense (I don’t believe it at all) if it wasn’t for the need to associate
sexual procurement with personal ego. Bingo!
That is the point in all of this; a man’s ego is tied directly to his ability to procure sex. You get rich, and are a man of “means”, and then you can get all the sex you want. Yeah, if you are famous. Yes, if you have made a successful business, or are a wealthy and powerful politician…yes you can get sex, and yes, you will have an ego to match it.
Motivational Girl #5
Here’s yet another gal. Right along my speed. Different personality, yet the same archetype. Love it!
Sex is MORE than just a biological necessity. It is a motivating factor in men’s behaviors, and the control of it is a direct path to the control of that man. That is how many “secret” organizations control their members. It is one of the ways that MAJestic controls us.
Now, I do know that the world is filled with different kinds of people, and that there are different motivations for the fraction, of a fraction, of a fraction of a percent that have serious gender identity issues. For those rare few, I offer this to titillate…
Hot guys being attractive to other men.
Fighting, battles and Hollywood…
Were you ever involved in actual battle, defense or fighting?
No.
I never participated in any kind of military action. I never shot at anyone either through a computer interface, or physically. Aside from training “shake and bakes” in my Navy days, I was never involved in anything like what you would find in Hollywood.
I never recognized any kind of enemy, whether it was terrestrial or extraterrestrial.
Retirement
I hated my retirement. It sucked.
How sure are you that all MAJestic members are retired as sex offenders?
I am very confident that this is the case for the bulk of the implanted membership. Certainly those in the highest levels are retired in other manners.
For me, my entire MAJestic cell was retired as sex offenders.
However, the reader might not take my word for it. You can just ignore my statements and say that it was “just a coincidence” that my entire three-man MAJestic cell was retired that way. You can say that it was just a coincidence that we were all retired in Arkansas, at the same facility, during the same month exactly thirty years after joining MAJestic.
It’s just a coincidence.
Where are all those extraterrestrials?
Why do you think that no one has ever seen an extraterrestrial?
I don’t know what you are talking about. I have seen them numerous times.
Remote Viewing
Were you ever involved in Remote Viewing?
No. Though for a lark after reading a few books on the subject, I tried it alone by myself. I was pretty much unsuccessful as far as I could tell.
For a while, I believed that Remote Viewing is a “power” or ability that one can obtain through training and practice. I still believe that.
However, I had previously considered the idea that the “rolling of snake eyes” over and over again (a reference to an event that I had in my early days once I was discharged from the Navy) was a manifestation of some sort of enhanced ESP on my part.
There was an "event" at a keg party after I was discharged from the Navy. I attended a party and everyone was playing backgammon. I started rolling "snake eyes". We were all drinking, and after about the sixth time I rolled "snake eyes" everyone wanted to see how many I could roll. It was an enormous and unlikely number, way, way over 75 times.
I've tried to replicate this event, but have been unsuccessful. I used to think that it was due to some kind of special ESP or PSI ability that I had "somehow" picked up somewhere.
Today, I do not believe this at all.
The exercise in the “rolling of snake eyes” was simply a subconscious slide that I did on my own before I had obtained any kind of training.
These probes connected me with an entity (the drone pilot) that possessed a soul that was capable of inter-dimensional travel and understanding. Any “carry-over” skills that I have or would obtain from it, would simply be a characteristic of my entanglement with that entity.
It would not be part of any kind of enhanced ESP ability.
That being stated, everyone has an inherent ESP ability. It lies latent simply because we as children are taught to ignore the elements related to ESP.
Now, earlier in my writings I alluded to the point that those of us so implanted had an improved ESP ability. It is not, and I do mean NOT, because of the probes themselves, but rather because the entanglement has forced us to think and use our minds in other manners.
These other manners are “friendly” to improving one’s ESP ability. Thus, those implanted will have a better ESP ability than before they were implanted.
It’s sort of how the longer you drive a car, the better you get at driving.
ESP
What is ESP actually?
There are many kinds of ESP.
Essentially, ESP is nothing less than a portion of entangled quanta associated (shared) with the consciousness.
As such, this portion can manifest as a wave while consciousness maintains particle behaviors.
When it is a wave it can access the non-physical reality that surrounds our physical reality. There, it can access entire histories and thoughts associated with objects and people within a given reality. If the reader were to take the time to study different manifestations of this aspect, they will be able to see how clearly ESP manifests.
Precognition – The ability to see into the future.
Retrocognition – The ability to see into the distant past.
Clairvoyance – The ability to see events without being physically present.
Mediumship – The ability to communicate with spiritual world and talk to the deceased.
Clairsentience – The ability to feel the emotions of others.
Clairaudience – The ability to receive messages and information through “psychic hearing”.
Telepathy – The ability to read the minds of others and know what they’re thinking.
Clairalience – The ability to get psychic impressions from the sense of smell.
Clairgustance – The paranormal ability to taste a substance without putting it in mouth.
I believe that a human can be taught how to improve and actuate their latent ESP ability. Though, some people are “naturals” in this regard.
Precognition refers to the ability to see the future. Though the scientific community generally rejects precognition because of the lack of demonstration, many scientific explanations are available to explain it. Experiments conducted by the Parapsychology Laboratory at Duke University show the human mind has a habit along with the ability to subconsciously predict an outcome of events by judging current circumstances. Such predictions, if they later become true, are then related to precognition.
Retrocognition refers to the ability to see in the distant past. It can be as simple as recognizing a place, or a person, or somehow knowing what happened in a certain situation one had nothing to do with at the time it took place. When someone experiences déjà vu, it could be a simple instance of retrocognition.
Telepathy refers to the ability to read and other persons thoughts. Telepathy allows a person to communicate with one or more people using their mind and no other sensory input. Recently there are some articles that seem to indicate that certain tests has proven this ability in dogs and cats.
Clairvoyance refers to the ability to see objects or events that are happening to someone else. Similar to telepathy, clairvoyance refers to the ability to gain knowledge about a person, event, or thing without sensory input. Though typically thought to be strongest during meditation, many psychics can get information about the past, present, and future in a variety of non-meditative environments.
Clairaudience refers the ability to hear objects or events that are happening to someone else, without any other additional sensory information. Like clairvoyance, clairaudience is thought to be strongest during meditation, however many clairaudients can obtain information in a variety of environments.
Clairsentience refers to the ability to perceive a feeling throughout the whole body, without any stimulation related to the feeling or information. Some people with this ability may also be considered clairempaths as they can physically tune into other peoples, places, or animals’ emotional experiences. This is considered a type of telepathy that allows emotions to be felt.
Mediumship refers to the ability to communicate with the dead by channeling their spirits. Personally, I am very skeptical about this. It certainly tends to be used in more than just a few scams. I cannot find the utility relative to consciousness application. But, what do I know?
A secondary form of ESP, clairaliencerefers to the psychic ability to smell. While all humans have the ability to smell, this type of ESP refers to aromas that are not detected by everyone else.
Another secondary form of ESP, clairgustance refers to the ability to taste. While all humans have the ability to taste, this type of ESP refers to the ability to taste without putting anything in the mouth. It is thought that those who have this ability can perceive the essence of a particular substance from the spiritual realms through taste.
Jay Treaty
What do you know about the “Jay Treaty”?
Nothing. However, I do know what the reference is towards. There are a series of “time travel” related videos posted on You-Tube that refer to the “Jay treaty” in a mysterious manner. The production value of the videos is ok, but the content is lacking.
Personally, I think the entire series of videos and all the “cloak and dagger” nonsense regarding the Jay Treaty and historical changes are all nonsensical.
If it happened, so what?
You are on this world-line now. If it didn’t happen, so what? It’s a hoax. Some young millennial with some basic video editing software and some time on their hands contrived to make a series of low budget videos.
It is all just nonsense.
At numerous FAQs for this part, let’s go and move on to the next part of this post which covers more questions and further commentary about my role within MAJestic.
If you want to go to the start of this series of posts, then please click HERE.
MAJestic Related Posts – Training
These are
posts and articles that revolve around how I was recruited for MAJestic
and my training. Also discussed is the nature of secret programs. I
really do not know why the organization was kept so secret. It really
wasn’t because of any kind of military concern, and the technologies
were way too involved for any kind of information transfer. The only
conclusion that I can come to is that we were obligated to maintain
secrecy at the behalf of our extraterrestrial benefactors.
MAJestic Related Posts – Our Universe
These
particular posts are concerned about the universe that we are all part
of. Being entangled as I was, and involved in the crazy things that I
was, I was given some insight. This insight wasn’t anything super
special. Rather it offered me perception along with advantage. Here, I
try to impart some of that knowledge through discussion.
Enjoy.
Influencer Questions
Here are posts
that have gathered a series of questions from various influencers. They
are interesting in many ways and could help all of us unravel the
mysteries of the lives that we live.
MAJestic Related Posts – World-Line Travel
These posts
are related to “reality slides”. Other more common terms are “world-line
travel”, or the MWI. What people fail to grasp is that when a person
has the ability to slide into a different reality (pass into a different
world-line), they are able to “touch” Heaven to some extent. Here are
posts that cover this topic.
John Titor Related Posts
Another
person, collectively known by the identity of “John Titor” claimed to
utilize world-line (MWI egress) travel to collect artifacts from the
past. He is an interesting subject to discuss. Here we have multiple
posts in this regard.
They are;
Articles & Links
You’ll not
find any big banners or popups here talking about cookies and privacy
notices. There are no ads on this site (aside from the hosting ads – a
necessary evil). Functionally and fundamentally, I just don’t make money
off of this blog. It is NOT monetized. Finally, I don’t track you
because I just don’t care to.
This is the full text of the Robert Heinlein novel titled “Time for the Stars”. It is a very difficult novel to come across and I feel truly fortunate that I was able to rediscover it.
Executive Summary
The story is classic Science Fiction fare. We are told of Tom and his brother Pat, identical twins, who are asked by the Long Range Foundation (a non-profit making organisation that funds projects for the long-term benefit of mankind) to attend some preliminary tests. The Foundation discovers that, much to the twin’s surprise, they engage in a form of telepathy between themselves.
The usefulness of the twins’ skill becomes apparent when we are told that twelve spaceships are to leave Earth in the hope of discovering new worlds to colonise and so reduce the strain on resources on Earth. Time and distance do not seem to affect telepathic links, which means that messages between twins can be sent instantaneously to each other and faster than a radio message on a spaceship travelling at light-speed.
Consequently Tom and Pat are chosen to act as one telepathic pair, with the eldest, Pat, travelling on the spaceship whilst our narrator, Tom, is to remain on Earth to receive the transmitted messages.
Tom is
consumed by jealousy when the twins are accepted to act as long distance
communicators across space. However, a skiing accident in training
means that, in a bizarre twist of fate, Pat is paralysed and has to stay
on Earth while Tom travels on the Lewis & Clark torchship.
Through
space, as Tom travels towards Tau Ceti and closer to the speed of
light, the time dilation effects become greater and Pat ages much faster
than Tom. The latter part of the book is about how the two of them deal
with some of the dangerous challenges that Tom faces on the frontier of
space.
Time for the Stars book cover artwork by Robert Heinlein.
Time for the Stars
I THE LONG RANGE FOUNDATION
According to their biographies, Destiny’s favored children usually had their lives planned out from scratch. Napoleon was figuring on how to rule France when he was a barefoot boy in Corsica, Alexander the Great much the same, and Einstein was muttering equations in his cradle.
Maybe so. Me, I just muddled along.
In an old book that belonged to my great grandfather Lucas I once saw a cartoon of a man in evening
clothes, going over a ski jump. With an expression of shocked unbelief he is saying: “How did I get up here?”
I know how he felt. How did I get way up here?
I was not even planned on. The untaxed quota for our family was three children, then my brother Pat and I came along in one giant economy package. We were a surprise to everyone, especially to my
parents, my three sisters, and the tax adjusters. I don’t recall being surprised myself but my earliest recollection is a vague feeling of not being quite welcome, even though
Dad and Mum, and Faith, Hope, and Charity treated us okay.
Maybe Dad did not handle the emergency right. Many families get an extra child quota on an exchange basis with another family, or something, especially when the tax-free limit has already been filled with all boys or all girls. But Dad was stubborn, maintaining that the law was unconstitutional, unjust, discriminatory, against public morals, and contrary to the will of God. He could reel off a list of important people who were youngest children of large families, from Benjamin Franklin to the first governor Of Pluto, then he would demand to know where the human race would have been without them?-after which Mother would speak soothingly.
Dad was probably accurate as he was a student of almost everything, even his trade, which was
micromechanics-but especially of history. He wanted to name us for his two heroes in American history, whereas Mother wanted to name us for her favorite artists: This is how I ended up as Thomas Paine Leonardo da Vinci Bartlett and my twin became Patrick Henry Michelangelo Bartlett. Dad called
us Tom and Pat and Mother called us Leo and Michel and our sisters called us Useless and Double- Useless. Dad won by being stubborn.
Dad was stubborn.
He could have paid the annual head tax on us supernumeraries, applied for a seven- person flat, and relaxed to the inevitable. Then he could have asked for reclassification. Instead be claimed exemption for us twins each year, always ended by paying our head tax with his check stamped “Paid under Protest!” and we seven lived in a five-person flat. When Pat and I were little we slept in homemade cribs in the bathroom which could not have been convenient for anybody, then when we were bigger we slept on the living-room couch, which was inconvenient for everybody,
especially our sisters, who found
it cramping to their social life.
Dad could have solved all this by putting in for family emigration to Mars or Venus, or the Jovian
moons, and he used to bring up the subject. But this was the one thing that would make Mum more stubborn
than he was. I don’t know which part of making the High Jump scared her, because she would just settle her mouth and not answer. Dad would point out that big families got preferred treatment for emigration and that the head tax was earmarked to subsidize colonies off Earth and why shouldn’t we benefit by the money we were being robbed of? To say nothing of letting our children grow up with freedom and elbow room, out where there wasn’t a bureaucrat standing behind every productive worker dreaming up more rules and restrictions? Answer me that?
Mother never answered and we never emigrated,
We were always short of money. Two extra mouths, extra taxes, and no family assistance for the two
extras make the stabilized family income law as poor a fit as the clothes Mum cut down for us from Dad’s old ones. It was darn’ seldom that we could afford to dial for dinner like other people and Dad
even used to bring home any of his lunch that he didn’t eat. Mum went back to work as soon as we twins were in kindergarten, but the only household robot we had was an obsolete model “Morris
Garage” Mother’s Helper which was always burning out valves and took almost as long to program as the job would have taken. Pat and I got acquainted with dish water and detergents-at least I did; Pat usually insisted on doing the sterilizing or had a sore thumb or something.
Dad used to talk about the intangible benefits of being poor-learning to stand on your own feet,
building character, and all that. By the time I was old enough to understand I was old enough to wish
they weren’t so intangible, but, thinking back, maybe he had a point. We did have fun. Pat and I raised hamsters in the service unit and Mum never objected. When we turned the bath into a chem lab the girls did make unfriendly comments but when Dad put his foot down, they sweet-talked him into picking it up again and after that they hung their laundry somewhere else, and later Mum stood between us and the house manager
when we poured acid down the drain and did the plumbing no good.
The only time I can remember when Mum put her foot down was when her brother, Uncle Steve, came back from Mars and gave us some canal worms which we planned to raise and sell at a profit. But when Dad stepped on one in the shower (we had not discussed our plans with him) she made us give them to the zoo, except the one Dad had stepped on, which was useless. Shortly after that we ran away from home to join the High Marines-Uncle Steve was a ballistics sergeant-and when lying about our age did not work and they fetched us back, Mum not only did not scold us but had fed our snakes and our
silkworms while we were gone.
Oh, I guess we were happy. It is hard to tell at the time. Pat and I were very close and did everything
together but I want to get one thing straight: being a twin is not the Damon-and-Pythias dream that throb writers would have you think. It makes you close to another
person to be born with him, share a room with him, eat with him, play with him, work with him, and hardly ever do anything without him as far back as you can remember, and farther according to witnesses. It makes you close; it makes you almost indispensable to each other-but it does not necessarily make you love him.
I want to get this straight because there has been a lot of nonsense talked about it since twins got to be suddenly important. I’m me; I’m not my brother Pat. I could always tell us apart, even if other people couldn’t. He is the right-handed one; I’m the left-handed one. And from my point of view I’m the one who almost always got the small piece of cake.
I can remember times when he got both pieces through a fast shuffle. I’m not speaking in general; I’m thinking of a certain white cake with chocolate icing and how he confused things so that he got my piece, too, Mum and Dad thinking he was both of us, despite my protests. Dessert can be the high point of the day when you are eight, which was what we were then.
I am not complaining about these things … even though
I feel a dull lump of anger even now, after all the years and miles, at the recollection of being punished because Dad and Mum thought I was the one who was trying to wangle two desserts. But I’m just trying to tell the truth. Doctor Devereaux said to write it all down and where I have to start is how it feels to be a twin. You aren’t a twin, are you? Maybe you are but the chances are forty-four to one that you aren’t-not even a fraternal, whereas Pat and I are identicals which is four times as unlikely.
They say that one twin is always retarded-I don’t think so. Pat and I were always as near alike as two
shoes of a pair. The few times we showed any difference I was a quarter inch taller or a pound heavier,
then we would even out. We got equally good marks in school; we cut our teeth together. What he did
have was more grab than I had, something the psychologists call “pecking order.” But it was so subtle you could not define it and other people could not see it. So far as I know, it started from nothing and
grew into .a pattern that neither of us could break even if we wanted to.
Maybe if the nurse had picked me up first when we were born I would have been the one who got the bigger piece of cake. Or maybe she did-I don’t know how it started.
But don’t think that being a twin is all bad even if
you are on the short
end; it is mostly good. You go
into a crowd of strangers and you are scared and shy-and there is your twin a couple of feet away and
you
aren’t alone any more. Or somebody punches you in the mouth and while you are groggy your
twin has punched him and the fight goes your way. You flunk a quiz and your twin has flunked just as badly and you aren’t alone.
But do not think that being twins is like having a very close and loyal friend. It isn’t like that at all and it is a great deal closer.
Pat and I had our first contact with the Long Range Foundation when this
Mr.
Geeking showed up at our home. I did not warm to him. Dad didn’t like him either
and
wanted to hustle him out, but he was
already seated with coffee at his elbow for Mother’s notions of hospitality were firm.
So this Geeking item was allowed to state his business. He was, he said, a field representative of
“Genetics Investigations.”
“What’s that?” Dad said sharply.
‘Genetics Investigations’
is a scientific agency, Mr. Bartlett. This present project is one of gathering data concerning twins. It is in the public interest and we hope that you will cooperate.”
Dad took a deep breath and hauled out the imaginary soapbox he always had ready. “More government meddling! I’m a decent citizen; I pay my bills and support
my family. My boys are just like other boys and I’m sick and tired of the government’s attitude about them. I’m not going to have them poked and prodded and investigated to satisfy some bureaucrat. All we ask is to be left alone-and
that the government admit the obvious fact that my boys have as much right to breathe air and occupy space as anyone else!”
Dad wasn’t stupid; it was just that he had a reaction pattern where Pat and I were concerned as
automatic as the snarl of a dog who has been kicked too often. Mr. Geeking tried to soothe him but Dad
can’t be interrupted when he has started that tape. “You tell the Department of Population Control that I’m not having their ‘genetics investigations.’ What do they want to find out? How to keep people from having twins, probably. What’s wrong with twins? Where would Rome have been without
Romulus
and Remus?-answer me that! Mister, do you know how many-”
“Please, Mr. Bartlett, I’m not from the government.” “Eh? Well, why didn’t you say so? Who are you from?”
“Genetics Investigations is an agency of the Long Range Foundation.”
I felt Pat’s sudden interest.
Everybody has heard of the Long Range Foundation, but it happened that Pat and I had just done a term paper on non-profit corporations and had used the Long Range Foundation as a type example.
We got interested in the purposes of the Long Range Foundation. Its coat of arms reads: “Bread Cast Upon the Waters,”
and its charter is headed: “Dedicated to the Welfare of Our Descendants.” The charter goes on with a lot of lawyers’ fog but the way the directors have interpreted it has been to spend money only on things that no government and no other corporation would touch. It wasn’t enough for a proposed project to be interesting to science or socially desirable; it also had to be so horribly
expensive that no one else would touch it and the prospective results had to lie so far in the future that it could not be justified to taxpayers or shareholders. To make the LRF directors light up with enthusiasm you had to suggest something that cost a billion or more and probably wouldn’t show results for ten generations, if ever … something like how to control the weather (they’re working on
that) or where does your lap go when you stand up.
The funny thing is that bread cast upon waters does come back seven hundred fold; the most preposterous projects made the LRF embarrassing amounts of money-”embarrassing” to a non-profit corporation that is. Take space travel: it seemed tailor-made, back a couple of hundred years ago, for
LRF, since it was fantastically expensive and offered no probable results comparable with the investment: There was a time when governments did some work on it for military reasons,
but the Concord of Bayreuth in 1980 put a stop even to that.
So the Long Range Foundation stepped in and happily began wasting money. It came at a time when
the
corporation unfortunately had made a few billions on the Thompson mass-converter when they had
expected to spend at least a century on pure research; since they could not declare
a dividend (no stockholders), they had to get rid of the money somehow and space travel looked like a rat hole to pour it down.
Even the kids know what happened to that: Ortega’s torch made space travel inside the solar system cheap, fast, and easy, and the one-way energy screen made colonization practical and profitable; the LRF could not unload fast enough to keep from making lots more money.
I did not think all this that evening; LRF was just something that Pat and I happened to know more about than most high school seniors … more than Dad knew, apparently, for he snorted and answered, “The Long Range Foundation,
eh? I’d almost rather you were from the government. If boondoggles
like that were properly taxed, the government wouldn’t be squeezing head taxes out of its citizens.”
This was not a fair statement, not a “flat-curve relationship,” as they call it in Beginning Mathematical Empiricism. Mr. McKeefe had told us to estimate the influence, if any, of LRF on the technology “yeast-form” growth curve; either I should have flunked the course
or LRF had kept the curve from leveling off early in the 21st century-I mean to say, the “cultural inheritance,” the accumulation of
knowledge and wealth that keeps us from being savages, had increased greatly as a result of the tax- free status of such non-profit research corporations.
I didn’t dream up that opinion; there are figures to
prove it. What would have happened if the tribal elders had forced Ugh to hunt with the rest of the tribe instead of staying home and whittling out the first wheel while the idea was bright in his mind?
Mr. Geeking answered, “I can’t debate the merits of such matters, Mr. Bartlett. I’m merely an employee.
“And I’m paying your salary, indirectly and unwillingly, but paying it nevertheless.”
I wanted to get into the argument but I could feel Pat holding back. It did not matter; Mr. Geeking
shrugged and said, “If so, I thank you. But all I came here for was to ask your
twin boys to take a few tests and answer some questions. The tests are harmless and the results will be kept confidential.”
“What are you trying to find out?”
I think Mr. Geeking was telling the truth when he answered, “I don’t know. I’m merely a field agent; I’m not in charge of the project.”
Pat cut in. “I don’t see why not, Dad. Do you have the tests in your briefcase, Mr. Geeking?” “Now, Patrick-”
“It’s all right, Dad. Let’s see the tests, Mr. Geeking.”
“Uh, that’s not what we had in mind. The Project has set up local offices in the TransLunar Building.
The
tests take about half a day.”
“All the way downtown, huh, and a half day’s ‘time … what do you pay?” “Eh? The subjects are asked to contribute their time in the interests of science.”
Pat shook his head. “Sorry, Mr. Geeking. This is exam week … and my brother
and
I have part-time school jobs, too.”
I kept quiet. Our exams were over, except Analysis of History, which is a snap course involving no
math but statistics and pseudospatial calculus, and the school chem lab we worked in was closed for
examinations.
I was sure Dad did not know these things, or he would have butted in; Dad can shift from prejudice to being a Roman judge at the drop of a hint.
Pat stood up, so I stood up. Mr. Geeking sat tight. “Arrangements can be made,” he said evenly.
Pat stuck him as much as we made for a month of washing bottles in the lab, just for one afternoon’s
work-then upped the ante when it was made clear that we would be obliged to take the tests together
(as
if we would have done it any other way!). Mr. Geeking paid without a quiver, in cash,
in advance.
II
THE NATURAL LOGARITHM OF TWO
I never in my life saw so many twins as were waiting on the fortieth floor of the TransLunar Building
the
following Wednesday afternoon. I don’t like to be around
twins, they make me think I’m seeing double. Don’t tell me I’m inconsistent; I never saw the twins I am part of-I just saw Pat.
Pat felt the same way; we had never been chummy with other twins. He looked around and whistled.
“Tom, did you over see such a mess of spare parts?”
“Never.”
“If I were in charge, I’d shoot half of them.” He hadn’t spoken loud enough to offend anyone; Pat and
I used a prison-yard whisper that no one else could hear although we never had trouble understanding it. “Depressing, isn’t it?”
Then he whistled softly and I looked where he was looking. Twins of course, but this was a case of when once is good,
twice is better. They were red-headed sisters, younger than we were but not too young-sixteen, maybe-and cute as Persian kittens.
Those sisters had the effect on us that a light has on a moth. Pat whispered, “Tom, we owe it to them to
grant them a little of our time,” and headed toward them, with me in step. They were dressed in fake Scottish outfits, green plaid which made their hair flame like bonfires and to us they looked as pretty as a new fall of snow.
And just as chilly. Pat got halfway through
his opening speech when he trailed off and shut up; they were staring through him. I was blushing and the only thing that kept it from being a major
embarrassing incident was a loudspeaker that commenced to bray:
“Attention, please! You are requested to report to the door marked with your surname initial.” So we went to door A- to-D and the red-headed sisters headed toward the other end of the alphabet without ever having seen us at all. As we queued up Pat muttered, “Is there egg on my chin? Or have they taken
a vow to be old maids?”
“Probably both,” I answered. “Anyhow, I prefer blondes.” This was true, since Maudie was a blonde.
Pat
and I had been dating Maudie Kauric for about a year-going steady you could call it, though in my
case it usually meant that I was stuck with Maudie’s chum Hedda Staley, whose notion of dazzling conversation was to ask me if I didn’t think Maudie was the cutest thing ever? Since this was true and
unanswerable, our talk did not sparkle.
“Well, so do I,” Pat agreed, without saying which blonde-Maudie was the only subject on which we were reticent with each other. “But I have never had a closed mind.”
He shrugged and added cheerfully,
“Anyhow, there are other possibilities.”
There certainly were, for of the hundreds of twins present maybe a third were near enough our age not to be out of the question and half of them, as near as I could tell without counting, were of the sex that turns a mere crowd into a social event. However, none came up to the high standards of the redheads, so
I began looking over the crowd as a whole.
The oldest pair I saw, two grown men, seemed to be not older than the early thirties and I saw one set of little girls about twelve-they had their mother in tow. But most of them were within a loud shout of
twenty. I had concluded that “Genetics Investigations” was picking its samples by age groups when I found
that we were at the head of the line and a clerk was saying, “Names, please?”
For the next two hours we were passed from one data collector to another, being fingerprinted, giving
blood samples, checking “yes” or “no” to hundreds of silly questions that can’t be answered “yes” or “no.” The physical examination was thorough and involved the usual carefully planned nonsense of keeping a person standing in bare feet on a cold floor in a room five degrees too chilly for naked human
skin while prodding the victim and asking him rude personal questions.
I was thoroughly bored and was not even amused when Pat whispered that we should strip the clothes off the doctor now and prod him in the belly and get the nurse
to record how he liked it? My only
pleasant thought was that Pat had stuck them plenty for their fun. Then they let us get dressed and
ushered us into a room where a rather pretty woman sat behind a desk. She had a transparency viewer
on her desk and was looking at two personality profiles superimposed on it. They almost matched and I tried to sneak a look to see where they did not. But I could not tell Pat’s from my own and anyhow
I’m not a mathematical psychologist.
She smiled and said, “Sit down, boys. I’m Doctor Arnault.” She held up the profiles and a bunch of punched cards and added, “Perfect mirror twins, even to dextrocardia. This should be interesting.”
Pat tried to look at the papers.
“What’s our I.Q. this time, Doctor?”
“Never mind.” She put the papers down and covered them, then picked up a deck of cards. “Have you
ever used these?”
Of course we had, for they were the
classic Rhine test cards, wiggles and stars and so forth. Every high school psychology class has a set and a high score almost always means that some bright boy has figure out a way to cold-deck the teacher. In fact Pat had worked out a simple way to cheat when our teacher,
with a tired lack of anger, split us up and made us run tests only with other people-whereupon our scores dropped to the limits of standard error. So I was already certain that Pat and I weren’t ESP freaks
and
the Rhine cards were just another boring test.
But I could feel Pat become attentive. “Keep your ears open, kid,” I heard him whisper, “and we’ll make this interesting.” Dr. Arnault did not hear him, of course.
I wasn’t sure we ought to but I knew if he could manage to signal to me I would not be able to refrain
from
fudging the results. But I need not have worried; Dr. Arnault took Pat out and returned without him. She was hooked by microphone
to the other test room but there was no chance to whisper through
it; it was hot only when she switched it on.
She started right in. “First test run in twenty seconds, Mabel,” she said into the mike and switched it off, then turned to me. “Look at the cards as I turn them,” she said.
“Don’t try, don’t strain. Just look at them.”
So I looked at the cards. This went on with variations for maybe an hour. Sometimes
I was supposed to
be receiving, sometimes sending. As far as I was concerned nothing happened, for they never told us our
scores.
Finally Dr. Arnault looked at a score sheet and said, “Tom, I want to give you a mild injection. It won’t hurt you and it’ll wear off before you go home. Okay?”
“What sort?” I said suspiciously.
“Don’t fret; it is harmless. I don’t want to tell you or you might unconsciously show the reaction you expected.”
“Uh, what does my brother say? Does he get one, too?” “Never mind, please. I’m asking you.”
I still hesitated. Dad did not favor injections and such unless necessary; he had made a fuss over our
taking part in the encephalitis program. “Are you an M.D.?” I asked. “No, my degree is in science. Why?”
“Then how do you know it’s harmless?”
She bit her lip, then answered, “I’11 send for a doctor of medicine, if you prefer.”
“Uh, no, I guess that won’t be necessary.” I was remembering something that Dad had said about the sleeping sickness shots and I added, “Does the Long Range Foundation carry liability insurance for
this?”
“What? Why, I think so. Yes, I’m sure they do.” She looked at me and added, “Tom, how does a boy your age get to be so suspicions?”
“Huh? Why ask me? You’re the psychologist, ma’am. Anyhow,” I added, “if you had sat on as many tacks as I have, you’d be suspicions too.”
“Mmm … never mind. I’ve been studying for years and I still don’t know what the younger generation is coming to. Well, are you going to take the injection?”
“Uh, I’ll take it-since the LRF carries insurance. Just write out what it is you are giving me and sign it.”
She got two bright pink spots in her cheeks. But she took out stationery, wrote on it, folded it into an envelope and sealed it. “Put it in your pocket,” she said briskly. “Don’t look at it until the experiments are over. Now bare your left forearm.”
As she gave me the shot she said sweetly, “This is going to sting a little…I hope.” It did.
She turned out all the lights except the light in the transparency viewer. “Are you comfortable?” “Sure.”
“I’m sorry if I seemed vexed. I want you to relax and be comfortable.” She came over and did
something to the chair I was in; it opened out gently until I was practically lying in a hammock. “Relax and don’t fight it. If you find yourself getting sleepy, that is to be expected.” She sat down and all I
could see was her face, illuminated by the viewer. She was awfully pretty, I decided, even though she was too old for it to matter … at least thirty, maybe older. And she was nice, too. She spoke
for a few minutes in her gentle voice but I don’t remember exactly what she said.
I must have gone to sleep, for next it was pitch dark and Pat was right there by me, although I hadn’t noticed the light go out nor the door being opened. I started to speak when I heard him whisper:
“Tom, did you ever see such nonsensical rigamarole?”
I whispered back, “Reminds me of the time we were initiated into the Congo Cannibals.” “Keep your voice down; they’ll catch on.”
“You’re the one who is talking too loud: Anyhow, who cares? Let’s give ‘em the Cannibal war whoop and scare ‘em out of their shoes.”
“Later, later. Right now my girl friend Mabel wants me to give you a string of numbers. So we’ll let them have their fun first. After all, they’re paying for it.”
“Okay.”
“Point six nine three one.”
“That’s the natural logarithm of two.”
“What did you think it was? Mabel’s telephone number? Shut up and listen. Just repeat the numbers back. Three point one four one five nine…”
It went on quite a while. Some were familiar numbers like the first two; the rest may have been random or even Mabel’s phone number, for all of me. I got bored and was beginning to think about sticking in a war whoop on my own when Dr. Arnault said
quietly, “End of test run. Both of you please keep quiet and relax for a few minutes. Mabel, I’ll meet you in the data comparison room.” I heard her go out, so I dropped the war whoop notion and relaxed. Repeating all those numbers in the dark had
made me dopey anyhow-and as Uncle Steve says, when you get a chance to rest, do so; you may not get another chance soon.
Presently I heard the door open again, then I was blinking at bright lights. Dr. Arnault said, “That’s all today, Tom … and thank you very much. We want to see you and your brother at the same time tomorrow.”
I blinked again and looked around.
“Where’s Pat? What does he say?”
“You’ll find him in the outer lobby. He told me that you could come tomorrow. You can, can’t you?” “Uh, I suppose
so, if it’s
all
right with him.” I was feeling sheepish about the trick we had pulled, so I
added, “Dr. Arnault? I’m sorry I annoyed you.”
She patted my hand and smiled. “That’s all right, You were right to be cautious and you were a good subject. You should see the wild ones we sometimes draw. See you tomorrow.”
Pat was waiting in the big room where we had seen the redheads. He fell into step and we headed for the drop.
“I raised the fee for tomorrow,” he whispered smugly.
“You did? Pat, do you think we should do this? I mean, fun is fun, but if
they ever twig that we are faking, they’ll be sore. They might even make us pay back what they’ve already paid us.”
“How can they? We’ve been paid to show up and take tests. We’ve done that. It’s up to them to rig tests that can’t be beaten. I could, if I were doing it.”
“Pat, you’re dishonest and crooked, both.” I thought
about Dr. Arnault… she was a nice lady. “I think I’ll stay home tomorrow.”
I said this just as Pat stepped off the drop. He was ten feet below me all the way down and had forty stories in which to consider his answer. As I landed beside him he answered by changing the subject. “They gave you a hypodermic?”
“Yes.”
“Did you think to make them sign an admission of liability, or did you goof?”
“Well, sort of.” I felt in my pocket for the envelope; I’d forgotten about it. “I made Dr. Arnault write down what she was giving us.”
Pat reached for the envelope. “My apologies, maestro. With my brains and your luck we’ve got them where we want them.” He started to open the envelope. “I bet it was neopentothal-or one of the barbiturates.”
I snatched it back. “That’s mine.”
“Well, open it,” he answered, “and don’t obstruct traffic. I want to see what dream drug they gave us.” We had come out into the pedestrian level and his advice did have merit. Before opening it I led us
across the change strips onto the fast-west strip and stepped behind a windbreak. As I unfolded the paper Pat read over my shoulder:
“‘Long Range Fumbling, and so forth-injections given to subjects 7L435 & -6 T. P. Bartlett & P. H.
Bartlett (iden-twins)-each one-tenth c.c. distilled water raised to normal salinity,’ signed ‘Doris Arnault, Sc.D., for the Foundation.’ Tom, we’ve been hoaxed!”
I stared at it, trying to fit what I had experienced with what the paper said. Pat added hopefully, “Or is this the hoax? Were we injected with something else and they didn’t want to admit it?”
“No,” I said slowly. I was sure Dr. Arnault wouldn’t write down “water” and actually give us one of
the
sleeping drugs-she wasn’t that sort of person.
“Pat, we weren’t drugged…we were hypnotized.”
He shook his head. “Impossible. Granting that I could be hypnotized, you couldn’t be. Nothing there to hypnotize. And I wasn’t hypnotized, comrade. No spinning lights, no passes with the hands-why, my
girl Mabel didn’t even stare in my eyes. She just gave me the shot and told me to take it easy and let it take effect.”
“Don’t be juvenile, Pat. Spinning lights and such is for suckers. I don’t care whether you call it hypnotism or salesmanship. They gave us hypos and suggested that we would be sleepy-so we fell asleep.”
“So I was sleepy! Anyhow that wasn’t quite what Mabel did. She told me not to
go to sleep, or if I did,
to
wake up when she called me. Then when they brought
you in, she-”
“Wait a minute. You mean when they moved you back into the room I was in-”
“No, I don’t mean anything of the sort. After they brought
you in, Mabel gave me this list of numbers
and
I read them to you and-”
“Wait a minute,” I said. “Pat, you’re mixed up. How could you read them in pitch darkness? She must have read them to you. I mean-” I stopped, for I was getting mixed up myself. Well, she could have read to him from another room. “Were you wearing headphones?”
“What’s that got to do with it? Anyhow, it wasn’t pitch dark, not after
they brought
you in. She held up
the
numbers on a board that was rigged with a light of its own, enough to let me see the numbers and
her
hands.”
“Pat, I wish you wouldn’t keep repeating nonsense. Hypnotized or not, I was never so dopey that I
couldn’t notice anything that happened. I was never moved anywhere; they probably wheeled you in without disturbing you. And the room we were in was pitch dark, not a glimmer.”
Pat did not answer right away, which wasn’t like him. At last he said, “Tom, are you sure?” “Sure I’m sure!”
He sighed. “I hate to say this, because
I know what you will say. But
what are you supposed to do
when none of your theories fits?”
“Huh? Is this a quiz? You throw ‘em away and try a new one. Basic methodology, freshman year.” “Okay, just slip this on for size, don’t mind the pattern: Tom, my boy, brace yourself-we’re mind
readers.”
I tried it and did not like
it. “Pat, just because you can’t explain everything is no reason to talk like the fat old women who go to fortune tellers. We’re muddled, I admit, whether it was drugs or hypnosis. But we couldn’t have been reading each other’s minds or we would have been doing it years ago. We would
have noticed.”
“Not necessarily. There’s never anything much going on in your mind, so why should I notice?” “But it stands to reason-”
“What’s the natural log of two?”
“‘Point six nine three one’ is what you said, though I’ve got very little use for four-place tables. What’s that got to do with it?”
“I used four-place because she gave it to me that way. Do you remember what she said just before I gave you that number?”
“Huh? Who?”
“Mabel. Dr. Mabel Lichtenstein. What did she say?” “Nobody said anything.”
“Tom, my senile symbiote, she told me what to do, to wit, read the numbers
to
you. She told me this in
a clear, penetrating soprano. You didn’t hear her?”
“No.”
“Then you weren’t in the same room. You weren’t within earshot, even though I was prepared to swear
that they had shoved you in right by me. I knew you were there. But you weren’t. So it was telepathy.”
I was confused. I didn’t feel telepathic; I merely felt hungry.
“Me, too, on both counts,” Pat agreed. “So let’s stop at Berkeley Station end get a sandwich.”
I followed him off the strips, feeling not quite as hungry and even more confused. Pat had answered a remark I had not made.
II
PROJECT LEBENSRAUM
Even though I was told to take my time and tell everything, it can’t be done. I haven’t had time to add
to
this for days, but even if I didn’t have to work I still could not “tell all,” because it takes more than a day to write down what happens
in
one day. The harder you try the farther behind you get. So I’m going to quit trying and just hit the high spots.
Anyhow everybody knows the general outline of Project Lebensraum.
We did not say anything to Mum and Dad about that first day. You can’t expose parents to that sort of thing; they get jittery and start issuing edicts. We just told them the tests would run a second day and
that nobody had told us what the results were.
Dr. Arnault seemed unsurprised when we told her we knew the score, even when I blurted out that we thought we had been faking but apparently weren’t. She just nodded and said that it had been necessary to encourage us to think that everything was commonplace, even if there had to be a little fibbing on
both sides. “I had the advantage of having your personality analyses to guide me,” she added.
“Sometimes in psychology you have to go roundabout to arrive at the truth.
“We’ll try a more direct way today,” she went on. “We’ll put you two back to back but close enough together that you unquestionably can hear
each other. But I am going to use a sound screen to cut you
off
partly or completely from time to time without your knowing it.”
It was a lot harder the second time. Naturally we tried and naturally we flubbed. But Dr. Arnault was patient and so was Dr. Lichtenstein-Pat’s “Dr. Mabel.” She preferred to be called Dr. Mabel; she was
short and pudgy and younger than Dr. Arnault and about as cute as a female can be and still look like a sofa pillow. It wasn’t until later that we found out she was boss of the research team and world famous. “Giggly little fat girl” was an act she used to put ordinary people, meaning Pat and myself, at their ease.
I guess this proves you should ignore
the package and read the fine print.
So she giggled and Dr. Arnault looked serious and we could not tell whether we were reading minds or
not. I could hear Tom’s whispers-they told us to go ahead and whisper-and he could hear mine and sometimes they would fade. I was sure we weren’t getting anything, not telepathy I mean, for it was just the way Pat and I used to whisper answers back and forth in school without getting caught.
Finally Dr. Mabel giggled sheepishly and said, “I guess that’s
enough for today. Don’t you think so, Doctor?”
Dr. Arnault agreed and Pat and I sat up and faced each other. I said, “I suppose
yesterday was a fluke. I guess we disappointed you.”
Dr. Mabel looked like a startled kitten. Dr. Arnault answered soberly, “I don’t know what you
expected, Tom, but for the past hour you and your brother have been cut off from hearing each other during every test run.”
“But I did hear him.”
“You certainly did. But not with your ears. We’ve been recording each side of the sound barrier. Perhaps we should play back part of it.”
Dr. Mabel giggled. “That’s a good idea.” So they did. It started out with all four voices while they told us what they wanted, then there were just my whispers and Pat’s, reading lines back and forth from The Comedy of Errors. They must have had parabolic mikes focused on us for our whispers sounded like a windstorm.
Pat’s whispers gradually faded out. But mine kept right on going…answering a dead silence.
We signed a research contract with the Foundation and Dad countersigned it, after an argument. He thought mind-reading was folderol and we did not dispute him, since the clincher was that money was
scarce as always and it was a better-paying job than any summer
job
we could get, fat enough to insure that we could start college even if our scholarships didn’t come through.
But before the summer was over they let us in on the connection between “Genetics Investigations” and “Project Lebensraum.” That was a horse of another color-a very dark black, from our parents’
standpoint.
Long before that time Pat and I could telepath as easily as we could talk and just as accurately, without special nursing and at any distance. We must have been doing it for years without
knowing it-in fact Dr. Arnault made a surprise recording of our prison-yard whispering (when we weren’t trying to telepath,
just our ordinary private conversation) and proved that neither one of us could understand our recorded
whispers when we were keeping it down low to keep other people from hearing.
She told us that it was theoretically possible that everyone was potentially telepathic, but that it had
proved difficult to demonstrate it except with identical twins-and then only with about ten per cent.
“We don’t know why, but think of an analogy with tuned radio circuits.”
“Brain waves?” I asked.
“Don’t push the analogy too far. It can’t be the brain waves we detect with an encephalograph equipment or we would have been selling commercial telepathic equipment long since. And the human brain is not a radio. But whatever it is, two persons from the same egg stand an enormously better
chance of being ‘tuned in’ than two non-twins do. I can’t read your mind and you can’t read mine and
perhaps we never will. There have been only a few cases in all the history of psychology of people who appeared to be able to ‘tune in’ on just anyone, and most of those aren’t well documented.”
Pat grinned and winked at Dr. Mabel. “So we are a couple of freaks.”
She looked wide-eyed and started to answer but Dr. Arnault beat her to it. “Not at all, Pat. In you it is normal. But we do have teams in the project who are not identical twins. Some husbands and wives, a few fraternal siblings, even some pairs who were brought
together by the research itself. They are the ‘freaks.’ If we could find out how they do it, we. might be able to set up conditions to let anyone do it.”
Dr. Mabel shivered. “What a terrible thought! There is too little privacy now.”
I repeated this to Maudie (with Pat’s interruptions and corrections)
because the news services had found
out what was going on in “Genetics Investigations” and naturally we “mind readers” came in for
a lot of silly publicity and just as naturally, under Hedda Staley’s mush-headed prodding, Maudie began to wonder if a girl had any privacy? She had, of course; I could not have read her mind with a search warrant, nor could Pat. She would have believed our simple statement if Hedda had not harped
on it. She nearly managed to bust us up with Maudie, but we jettisoned her instead and we had
threesome dates with Maudie until Pat was sent away.
But that wasn’t until nearly the end of the summer after they explained Project Lebensraum.
About a week before our contract was to run out they gathered us twins together to talk to us. There
had been hundreds that first day, dozens the second day, but just enough to crowd a big conference room by the end of summer. The redheads were among the survivors but Pat and I did not sit by them even though there was room; they still maintained their icicle attitude and were self-centered as oysters. The rest of us were all old friends by now.
A Mr. Howard was introduced as representing the Foundation. He ladled out the usual guff about being
happy to meet us and appreciating the honor
and so forth. Pat said to me. “Hang onto your wallet,
Tom. This bloke is selling something.” Now that we knew what we were doing Pat and I talked in the presence of other people even more than we used to. We no longer bothered to whisper since we had
had
proved to us that we weren’t hearing the whispers. But we did subvocalize the words silently, as it helped in being understood. Early in the summer we had tried to do without
words and read minds directly but it did not work. Oh, I could latch on to Pat, but the silly, incoherent rumbling that went on his mind in place of thought was confusing and annoying, as senseless as finding yourself inside another person’s dream. So I learned not to listen unless he “spoke” to me and he did the same. When we did, we used words and sentences like anybody else. There was none of this fantastic, impossible popular nonsense about instantly grasping the contents of another person’s mind; we simply “talked.”
One thing that had bothered me was why Pat’s telepathic “voice” sounded like his real one. It had not worried me when I did not know what we were doing, but once I realized that these “sounds”
weren’t sounds, it bothered me. I began to wonder if I was all there and for a week I could not “hear” him- psychosomatic telepathic-deafness Dr. Arnault called it.
She got me straightened out by explaining what hearing is. You don’t hear with your ears, you hear
with your brain; you don’t see with your eyes, you see with your
brain. When you touch something, the sensation is not in your finger, it is inside your head. The ears and eyes and fingers are just data collectors; it is the brain that abstracts order out of a chaos of data and gives it meaning. “A new baby
does not really see,” she said. “Watch the eyes of one and you can see that it doesn’t. Its eyes
work
but its brain has not yet learned to see. But once the brain has acquired the habits of abstracting as ‘seeing’
and
‘hearing,’ the habit persists. How would you expect to ‘hear’ what your twin says
to
you telepathically? As little tinkling bells or dancing lights? Not at all. You expect words, your brain ‘hears’ words; it is a process it is used to and knows how to handle.”
I no longer worried about it, I could hear Pat’s voice clearer than I could hear the voice of the speaker
addressing us. No doubt there were fifty other conversations around
us, but I heard no one but Pat and
it
was obvious that the speaker could not hear anybody (and that he did not know
much about telepathy) for he went on:
“Possibly a lot of you wonderful people-” (This with a sickening smile) “-are reading my mind right now. I hope not, or if you are I hope you will bear
with me until I have said my say.”
“What did I tell you?” Pat put in. “Don’t sign anything until l check it.”
(“Shut up,”). I told him. (“I want to listen.”) His voice used to sound like a whisper; now it tended to
drown out real sounds. “
Mr. Howard went on, “Perhaps you have wondered why the Long Range Foundation has sponsored this research. The Foundation is always interested in anything which will add to human knowledge. But there is a much more important reason,
a supremely important reason … and a grand purpose
to which you yourselves can be supremely important.”
“See? Be sure to count your change.” (“Quiet, Pat.”)
“Let me quote,” Mr. Howard continued, “from the charter of the Long Range Foundation: ‘Dedicated
to
the welfare of our descendants.’ “ He paused dramatically-I think that was what he intended; “Ladies and gentlemen, what one thing above all is necessary for our descendants?”
“Ancestors!” Pat answered promptly. For a second I thought that he had used his vocal cords, But nobody else noticed.
“There can be only one answer-living room! Room to grow, room to raise families, broad acres of fertile grain, room for parks and schools and homes. We have over five billion human souls on this planet; it was crowded to the point of marginal starvation more than a century ago with only half that number. Yet this afternoon there are a quarter of a million more of us than there were at this same hour yesterday – ninety million more people each year. Only by monumental efforts of reclamation and
conservation, plus population control measures that grow daily more difficult, have we been able to stave off starvation. We have placed a sea in the Sahara, we have melted the Greenland ice cap, we have watered the windy steppes, yet each year there is more and more pressure
for more and more room for endlessly more people.”
I don’t care for orations and this was all old stuff. Shucks, Pat and I knew it if anyone did; we were the kittens that should have been drowned; our old man paid a yearly fine for our very existence.
“It has been a century since the inception of interplanetary travel; man has spread through
the Solar System. One would think that nine planets would be ample for a race too fertile for one. Yet you all know that such has not been the case. Of the daughters of Father
Sol only fair Terra is truly suited to Man.”
“I’ll bet he writes advertising slogans.” (“Poor ones,”) I agreed.
“Colonize the others we have done, but only at a great cost. The sturdy Dutch in pushing back the sea have not faced such grim and nearly hopeless tasks as the colonists of Mars and Venus and Ganymede. What the human race needs and must have are not these frozen or burning or airless discards of
creation.
We need more planets like this gentle one we are standing on. And there are more, many more!” He waved his hands at the ceiling and looked up.
“There are dozens, hundreds, thousands, countless hordes of them … out there. Ladies and gentlemen, it is time for the stars!”
“Here comes the pitch,” Pat said quietly. “A fast curve, breaking inside.” (“Pat, what the deuce is he driving at?”)
“He’s a real estate agent.”
Pat was not far off: but I am not going to quote the rest of Mr. Howard’s speech. He was a good sort when we got to know him but he was dazzled by the sound of his own voice, so I’ll summarize. He reminded us that the Torchship Avant-Garde had headed out to Proxima Centauri six years back. Pat and I knew about it not only from the news but because mother’s brother, Uncle Steve, had put in for it-
he was turned down, but for a while we enjoyed prestige just from being related to somebody on the list-I guess we gave the impression around school that Uncle Steve was certain to be chosen.
Nobody had heard from the Avant-Garde and maybe she would be back in fifteen or twenty years and
maybe not. The reason we hadn’t heard from her, as Mr. Howard pointed out and everybody knows,
is that you don’t send radio messages back from a ship light-years away and traveling just under the speed of light. Even if you assumed that a ship could carry a power plant big enough to punch radio
messages across light-years (which may not be impossible in some cosmic sense but surely is
impossible in terms of modem engineering)-even so, what use are messages which travel just barely
faster than the ship that sends them? The Avant-Garde would be home almost as quickly as any report she could send, even by radio.
Some fuzzbrain asked about messenger rockets. Mr. Howard looked pained and tried to answer and I
didn’t listen. If radio isn’t fast enough,
how can a messenger
rocket be faster? I’ll bet Dr. Einstein spun
in his grave.
Mr. Howard hurried on before there were any more silly interruptions. The Long Range Foundation
proposed to send out a dozen more starships in all directions to explore Sol-type solar systems for
Earth-type planets, planets for coloniza tion. The ships might be gone a long time, for each one would
explore more than one solar system.
“And this, ladies and gentlemen, is where you are indispensable to this great project for living room-
for you will be the means whereby the captains of those ships report back what they have found!”
Even Pat kept quiet.
Presently a man stood up in the back of the room. He was one of the oldest twins among us; he and his brother were about thirty-five. “Excuse me, Mr. Howard, but may I ask a question?”
. “Surely.”
“I am Gregory Graham; this is my brother Grant Graham. We’re physicists. Now we don’t claim to be expert in cosmic phenomena but we do know something about communication theory. Granting for the sake of argument that telepathy would work over interstellar distances-I don’t think so but I’ve no
proof that it wouldn’t-even granting that, I can’t see where it helps. Telepathy, light, radio waves, even
gravity, are all limited to the speed of light. That is in the very nature of the physical universe, an
ultimate limit for all communication. Any other view falls into the ancient philosophical contradiction of action-at-a-distance. It is just possible that you might use telepathy to report findings and let the ship go on to new explorations-but the message would still take light-years to come back. Communication
back and forth between a starship and Earth, even by telepathy, is utterly impossible, contrary to the known laws of physics.” He looked apologetic and sat down.
I thought Graham had him on the hip. Pat and I got good marks in physics and what Graham had said was the straight word, right out of the book. But Howard did not seem bothered. “I’ll let an expert answer. Dr. Lichtenstein? If you please-”
Dr. Mabel stood up and blushed and giggled and looked flustered and said, “I’m terribly sorry, Mr.
Graham, I really am, but telepathy isn’t like that at all.” She giggled again and said, “I shouldn’t be saying this, since you are telepathic and I’m not, but telepathy doesn’t pay the least bit of attention to the speed of light.”
“But it has to. The laws of physics-”
“Oh, dear! Have we given you the impression that telepathy is physical?” She twisted her hands. “It probably isn’t.”
“Everything is physical. I include ‘physiological,’ of course.”
“It is? You do? Oh, I wish I could be sure … but physics has always
been much too deep for me. But I don’t know how you can be sure that telepathy is physical; we haven’t been able to make it register on any instrument. Dear me, we don’t even know how consciousness hooks
into matter. Is consciousness physical? I’m sure I don’t know. But we do know that telepathy is faster than light because we measured it.”
Pat sat up with a jerk, “Stick around,
kid. I think we’ll stay for the second show.” Graham looked stunned. Dr. Mabel said hastily, “I didn’t do it; it was Dr; Abernathy.” “Horatio Abernathy?” demanded Graham.
“Yes, that’s his first name, though I never dared call him by it. He’s rather important.”
“Just the Nobel prize,” Graham said grimly, “in field theory. Go on. What did he find?”
“Well, we sent this one twin out to Ganymede-such an awfully long way. Then we used simultaneous radio-telephony and telepathy messages, with the twin on Ganymede talking by radio while he was talking directly-telepathically, I mean-to his twin back in Buenos Aires. The telepathic message always beat the radio message by about forty minutes. That would be right, wouldn’t it? You can see the exact figures in my office.”
Graham managed to close his month. “When did this happen? Why hasn’t it been published? Who has
been keeping it secret? It’s the most important thing since the Michelson-Morley experiment-it’s terrible!”
Dr. Mabel looked upset and Mr. Howard butted in soothingly. “Nobody has been suppressing
knowledge, Mr. Graham, and Dr. Abernathy is preparing an article for publication in the Physical Review. However I admit that the Foundation did ask him not to give out an advance release in order
to
give us time to go ahead with another project-the one you know as ‘Genetics Investigations’-on a crash- priority basis. We felt we were entitled to search out and attempt to sign up potential telepathic teams before every psychological laboratory and, for that matter, every ambitious showman, tried to
beat us to it. Dr. Abernathy was willing-he
doesn’t like premature publication.”
“If it will make you feel better, Mr. Graham,” Dr. Mabel said diffidently, “telepathy doesn’t pay
attention to the inverse-square law either. The signal strength was as strong at half a billion miles as
when the paired telepaths were in adjoining rooms.”
Graham sat down heavily. “I don’t know whether it does or it doesn’t. I’m busy rearranging everything
I have ever believed.”
The interruption by the Graham brothers had explained some things but had pulled us away from the purpose of the meeting, which was for Mr. Howard to sell us on signing up as spacemen. He did not have to sell me. I guess every boy wants to go out into space; Pat and I had run away from home once to enlist in the High Marines-and this was much more than just getting on the Earth-Mars-Venus run; this meant exploring the stars.
The Stars!
“We’ve told you about this before your research contracts run out,” Mr. Howard explained, “so that you will have time to consider it, time for us to explain the conditions and advantages.”
I did not care what the advantages
were. If they had invited me to hook a sled on behind, I would have said yes, not worrying about torch blast or space suits or anything.
“Both members of each telepathic team will be equally well taken care of,” he assured us. “The starside member will have good pay and good working conditions
in the finest of modern torchships in the company of crews selected for psychological compatibility as well as for special training; the earthside member will have his financial future assured, as well as his physical welfare.” He smiled.
“Most assuredly his physical welfare, for it is necessary that he be kept alive and well as long as
science can keep him so. It is not too much to say that signing this contract will add thirty years to your
lives.”
It burst on me why the twins they had tested had been young people. The twin who went out to the stars would not age very much, not at the speed of light. Even if he stayed away a century it would not seem that long to him-but his twin who stayed behind would grow older. They would have to pamper
him
like royalty, keep him alive-or their “radio” would break down.
Pat said, “Milky Way, here I come!”
But Mr. Howard was still talking. “We want you to think this over carefully; it is the most important decision you will ever make. On the shoulders of you few and others like you in other cities around the globe, all told just a tiny fraction of one per cent of the human race, on you precious
few rest the hopes of all humanity. So think carefully and give us a chance to explain anything which may trouble you.
Don’t act hastily.”
The red-headed twins got up and walked out, noses in the air. They did not have to speak to make it clear that they would have nothing to do with anything so unladylike, so rude and crude, as exploring
space. In the silence in which they paraded out Pat said to me, “There go the Pioneer Mothers. That’s the spirit that discovered America.” As they passed us he cut loose with a loud razzberry-and I suddenly realized that he was not telepathing when the redheads stiffened and hurried faster. There was an embarrassed laugh and Mr. Howard quickly picked up the business at hand as if nothing had happened
while I bawled Pat out.
Mr. Howard asked us to come back at the usual time tomorrow, when Foundation representatives would explain details. He invited us to bring our lawyers, or (those of us who were under age, which was more than half) our parents and their lawyers.
Pat was bubbling over as we left, but I had lost my enthusiasm. In the middle of Mr. Howard’s speech I had had a great light dawn: one of us was going to have to stay behind and I knew as certainly as bread falls butter side down which one it would be. A possible thirty more years
on my life was no inducement to me. What use is thirty extra years wrapped in cottonwool? There would be no spacing
for the twin left behind, not even inside the Solar System … and I had never even been to the Moon.
I tried to butt in on Pat’s enthusiasm and put it to him fair
and
square, for I was darned if I was going to take the small piece of cake this time without argument.
“Look, Pat, I’ll draw straws with you for it. Or match coins.” “Huh? What are you talking about?”
“You know what I’m talking about!”
He just brushed it aside and grinned. “You worry too much, Tom. They’ll pick the teams the way they
want to. It won’t be up to us.”
I know he was determined to go and I knew I would lose.
IV HALF A LOAF
Our parents made the predictable uproar. A conference in the Bartlett family always sounded like a zoo
at
feeding time but this one set a new high. In addition
to Pat and myself, Faith, Hope, and Charity, and
our parents, there was Faith’s fairly new husband, Frank Dubois, and Hope’s brand- new fiancé, Lothar
Sembrich. The last two did not count and both of them seemed to me to be examples of what lengths a girl will go to in order to get married, but they used up space and occasionally contributed remarks to confuse the issue. But Mother’s brother, Uncle Steve, was there, too, having popped up on Earthside furlough.
It was Uncle Steve’s presence that decided Pat to bring it out in the open instead of waiting to tackle Dad and Mum one at a time. Both of them considered Uncle Steve a disturbing influence but they were proud of him; one of his rare visits was always a holiday.
Mr. Howard had given us a sample contract to take home and look over. After dinner Pat said, “By the way, Dad, the Foundation offered us a new contract today, a long-term one.” He took it out of his
pocket but did not offer it to Dad.
“I trust you told them that you were about to start school again?”
“Sure, we told them that, but they insisted that we take the contract home to show our parents. Okay, we knew what your answer would be.” Pat started to put the contract into his pocket.
I said to Pat privately, (“What’s the silly idea? You’ve made him say ‘no’ and now he can’t back down.”)
“Not yet he hasn’t,” Pat answered on our private circuit. “Don’t joggle my elbow.”
Dad was already reaching out a hand. “Let me see it, You should never make up your mind without knowing the facts.”
Pat was not quick about passing it over. “Well, there is a scholarship clause,” he admitted, “but Tom and I wouldn’t be able to go to school together the way we always have.”
“That’s not necessarily bad. You two are too dependent on each other. Some day you will have to face the cold, cruel world alone … and going to different schools might be a good place to start.”
Pat stuck out the contract, folded to the second page, “It’s paragraph ten.”
Dad read paragraph ten first, just as Pat meant him to do, and his eyebrows went up. Paragraph ten agreed that the party of the first part, the LRF, would keep the party of the second part in any school of
his
choice, all expenses, for the duration of the contract, or a shorter time at his option, and agreed to
do the same for the party of the third part after the completion of the active period of the contract, plus tutoring during the active period-all of which was a long-winded way of saying that the Foundation would put the one who stayed home through school now and the one who went starside through
school when he got back… all this in addition to our salaries; see paragraph seven.
So Dad turned to paragraph seven and his eyebrows went higher and his pipe went out. He looked at Pat. “Do I understand that they intend to appoint you two ‘communications technicians tenth grade’ with no experience?”
Uncle Steve sat up and almost knocked his chair over.
“Bruce, did you say ‘tenth grade’?”
“So it says.”
“Regular LRF pay scales?”
“Yes. I don’t know how much that is, but I believe they ordinarily hire skilled ratings beginning at third grade.”
Uncle Steve whistled. “I’d hate to tell you how much money it is, Bruce-but the chief electron pusher
on Pluto is tenth pay grade … and it took him twenty years and a doctor’s degree to get there.” Uncle Steve looked at us.
“Give out, shipmates. Where did they bury the body? Is it a bribe?” Pat did not answer. Uncle Steve turned to Dad and said, “Never mind the fine print, Bruce; just have the kids sign it. Each one of them will make more than you and me together. Never argue with Santa Claus.”
But Dad was already reading the fine print, from sub-paragraph one-A to the penalty clauses. It was
written in lawyer language but what it did was to sign us up as crew members for one voyage of an LRF ship, except that one of us was required to perform his duties Earthside. There was lots more to
nail it down so that the one who stayed Earth-side could not wiggle out, but that was all it amounted to.
The contact did not say where the ship would go or how long the voyage would last.
Dad finally put the contract down and Charity grabbed it. Dad took it from her and passed it over to Mother. Then he said, “Boys, this contract looks so favorable that I suspect there must be a catch. Tomorrow morning I’m going to get hold of Judge Holland and ask him to go over
it
with me. But if I
read it correctly, you are being offered all these benefits-and an extravagant salary-provided one of you
makes one voyage in the Lewis and Clark.”
Uncle Steve said suddenly, “The Lewis and Clark, Bruce?”
“The Lewis and Clark, or such sister ship as may be designated. Why? You know the ship, Steve?” Uncle Steve got poker-faced and answered, “I’ve never been in her. New ship, I understand. Well
equipped.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Dad looked at Mum. “Well, Molly?”
Mother did not answer. She was reading the contract and steadily getting whiter. Uncle Steve caught my eye and shook his head very slightly. I said to Pat, (“Uncle Steve has spotted the catch in it.”)
“He won’t hinder. “
Mother looked up at last and spoke to Dad in a high voice. “I suppose
you are going to consent?” She sounded sick. She put down the contract and Charity grabbed it again just as Hope grabbed it from the other side. It ended with our brother-in-law Frank Dubois holding it while everybody else read over his
shoulders.
“Now, my dear,” Dad said mildly, “remember that boys do grow up. I would like to keep the family
together forever-but it can’t be that way and you know it.”
“Bruce, you promised that they would not go out into space.”
Her brother shot her a glance-his chest was covered with ribbons he had won in space. But Dad went on just as mildly. “Not quite, dear. I promised you that I would not consent to minority enlistment in the peace forces; I want them to finish school and I did not want you upset. But this is another matter … and, if we refuse, it won’t be long before they can enlist whether we like it or not.”
Mother turned to Uncle Steve and said bitterly, “Stephen, you put this idea in their heads.” He looked annoyed then answered as gently as Dad.
“Take it easy, Sis. I’ve been away; you can’t pin this on me. Anyhow, you don’t put ideas in boys’
heads; they grow them naturally.”
Frank Dubois cleared his throat and said loudly, “Since this seems to be a family conference, no doubt you would like my opinion.”
I said, to Pat only, (‘Nobody asked your opinion, you lard head!”) Pat answered, “Let him talk. He’s our secret weapon, maybe.”
“If you want the considered judgment of an experienced businessman, this so-called contract is either a practical joke or a proposition so preposterous as to be treated with contempt. I understand that the twins are supposed to have some freak talent-although I’ve seen no evidence of it-but the idea of
paying them more than a man receives in his mature years, well, it’s just not the right way to raise boys. If they were sons of mine, I would forbid it. Of course, they’re not-”
“No, they’re not,” Dad agreed.
Frank looked sharply at him. “Was that sarcasm, Father Bartlett? I’m merely trying to help. But as I
told you the other day, if the twins will go to some good business school and work hard, I’d find a place for them in the bakery. If they make good, there is no reason why they should not do as well as I have done.” Frank was his father’s junior partner in an automated bakery; he always managed to let people know how much money he made. “But as for this notion of going out into space, I’ve always said that if a man expects to make anything of himself, he should stay home and work. Excuse me, Steve.”
Uncle Steve said woodenly, “I’d be glad to excuse you.” “Eh?”
“Forget it, forget it. You stay out of space and I’ll promise not to bake any bread. By the way, there’s flour on your lapel.”
Frank glanced down hastily. Faith brushed at his jacket and said, “Why, that’s just powder.”
“Of course it is,” Frank agreed, brushing at it himself. “I’ll have you know, Steve, that I’m usually
much too busy to go down on the processing floor. I’m hardly ever out of the office.”
“So I suspected.”
Frank decided that he and Faith were late for another appointment and got up to go, when Dad stopped them.
“Frank? What was that about my boys being freaks?” “What? I never said anything of the sort.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
They left in a sticky silence, except that Pat was humming silently and loudly the March of the Gladiators. “We’ve got it won, kid!”
It seemed so to me, too-but
Pat had to press our luck. He picked up the contract. “Then it’s okay,
Dad?”
“Mmm … I want to consult Judge Holland-and I’m not speaking for your mother.” That did not worry us; Mum wouldn’t hold out if Dad agreed, especially not with Uncle Steve around.
“But you could say that the matter has not been disapproved.” He frowned. “By the way, there is no time limit mentioned
in
there.”
Uncle Steve fielded that one for us; “That’s customary on a commercial ship, Bruce … which is what
this is, legally. You sign on for the voyage, home planet to home planet.” “Uh, no doubt. But didn’t they give you some idea, boys?”
I
heard Pat moan, “There goes the ball game. What’ll we tell him, Tom” Dad waited and Uncle Steve eyed us.
Finally Uncle Steve said, “Better speak up, boys. Perhaps I should have mentioned that I’m trying to get a billet on one of those ships myself-special discharge and such. So I know.”
Pat muttered something. Dad said sharply, “Speak up, son.” “They told us the voyage would probably last … about a century.”
Mum fainted and Uncle Steve caught her and everybody rushed around
with cold compresses getting in each other’s way and we were all upset. Once she pulled out of it Uncle Steve said to Dad, “Bruce? I’m going to take the boys out and buy them a tall, strong sarsaparilla and get them out from under foot.
You
won’t want to talk tonight anyhow.”
Dad agreed absently that it was a good. idea. I guess Dad loved all of us; nevertheless,
when the chips were down,
nobody counted but Mother.
Uncle Steve took us to a place where be could get something more to his taste than sarsaparilla, then vetoed it when Pat tried to order
beer. “Don’t try to show off, youngster. You are not going to put me in the position of serving liquor to my sister’s kids.”
“Beer can’t hurt you.”
“So? I’m still looking for the bloke who told me it was a soft drink. I’m going to beat him to a pulp with a stein. Pipe down.” So we picked soft drinks and he drank some horrible mixture he called a Martian shandy and we talked about Project Lebensraum. He knew more about it than we did even though no press release had been made until that day-I suppose the fact that he had been assigned to the Chief of Staff’s office had something to do with it, but he did not say.
Presently Pat looked worried and said, “See here, Uncle Steve, is there any chance that they will let us? Or should Tom and I just forget it?”
“Eh? Of course they are going to let you do it.”
“Huh? It didn’t look like
it tonight. If I know Dad, he would skin us for rugs rather than make Mum unhappy.”
“No doubt. And a good idea. But believe me, boys, this is in the bag … provided you use the right arguments.”
“Which is?”
“Mmm … boys, being a staff rating, I’ve served with a lot of high brass. When you are right and a general is wrong, there is only one way to get him to change his mind. You shut up and don’t argue.
You
let the facts speak for themselves and give him time to figure out a logical reason for reversing
himself.”
Pat looked unconvinced; Uncle Steve went on, “Believe me. Your pop is a reasonable man and, while your mother is not, she would rather be hurt herself than make anybody she loves unhappy. That contract is all in your favor and they can’t refuse-provided you give them time to adjust to the idea. But if you tease and bulldoze and argue the way you usually do, you’ll get them united against you.”
“Huh? But I never tease, I merely use logical-”
“Stow it, you make me tired. Pat, you were one of the most unlovable brats that ever squawled to get his own way … and, Tom, you weren’t any better. You haven’t mellowed with age; you’ve simply sharpened your techniques. Now you are being offered something free that I would give my right arm to have. I ought to stand aside and let you flub it. But I won’t. Keep your flapping mouths shut, play this easy, and it’s yours. Try your usual loathsome tactics and you lose.”
We would not take that sort of talk from most people. Anybody else and Pat would have given me the signal and he’d ‘ve hit him high while I hit him low. But you don’t argue that way with a man who wears the Ceres ribbon; you listen. Pat didn’t even mutter to me about it.
So we talked about Project Lebensraum itself. Twelve ships were to go out, radiating from Sol approximately in axes of a dodecahedron-but only approximately, as each ship’s mission would be, not to search a volume of space, but to visit as many Sol-type stars as possible in the shortest time. Uncle Steve explained how they worked out a “mini-max” search curve for each ship but I did not understand
it; it involved a type of calculus we had not studied.. Not that it mattered; each ship was to spend as much time exploring and as little time making the jumps as possible.
But Pat could not keep from coming back to the idea of how to sell the deal to our parents. “Uncle Steve? Granting that you are right about playing it easy, here’s an argument that maybe they should hear? Maybe you could use it on them?”
“Um?”
“Well, if half a loaf is better than none, maybe they haven’t realized that this way one of us stays
home.” I caught
a phrase of what Pat had started to say, which was not “one of us stays home,” but “Tom stays
home.” I started to object, then let it ride. He hadn’t said it. Pat went on, “They know we want to space. If they don’t let us do this, we’ll do it any way we can. If we joined your corps,
we
might come home on leave-but not often. If we emigrate, we might as well be dead; very few emigrants
make enough to afford a trip back to Earth, not while their parents are still alive, at least. So if they keep us home now, as soon as we are of age they probably will never see us again. But if they agree,
not only does one stay home, but they are always in touch with the other one-that’s the whole purpose in using us telepath pairs.” Pat looked anxiously at Uncle Steve.
“Shouldn’t we point that out? Or will you slip them the idea?”
Uncle Steve did not answer right away, although
I could not see anything wrong with the logic. Two from two leaves zero, but one from two still leaves one.
Finally he answered slowly, “Pat, can’t you get it through your thick head to leave well enough
alone?”
“I don’t see what’s wrong with my logic.”
“Since when was an emotional argument won by logic? You should read about the time King Solomon
proposed to divvy up the baby.” He took a pull at his glass and wiped his mouth. “What I am about to
tell you is strictly confidential. Did you know that the Planetary League considered commissioning these ships as warships?”
“Huh? Why?
Mr.
Howard didn’t say-”
“Keep your voice down. Project Lebensraum is of supreme interest to the Department of Peace. When
it
comes down to it, the root cause of war is always population pressure no matter what other factors enter in.”
“But we’ve abolished war.”
“So we have. So chaps like me get paid to stomp out brush fires before they burn the whole forest.
Boys, if I tell you the rest of this, you’ve got to keep it to yourselves now and forever.” I
don’t like secrets. I’d rather owe money. You can’t pay back a secret. But we promised.
“Okay. I saw the estimates the Department of Peace made on this project at the request of LRF. When
the
Avant-Garde was sent out, they gave her one chance in nine of returning. We’ve got better equipment now; they figure one chance in six for each planetary system visited. Each ship visits an
average of six stars on the schedule laid out-so each ship has one chance in thirty-six of coming back. For
twelve ships that means one chance in three of maybe one ship coming back. That’s where you freaks come in.”
“Don’t call us ‘freaks’!”
We answered together.
“ ‘Freaks,’ “ he repeated. “And everybody is mighty glad you freaks are around,
because without you the thing is impossible. Ships and crews are expendable-ships are just money and they can always find
people like me with more curiosity than sense to man the ships. But while the ships are expendable, the knowledge they will gather is not expendable. Nobody at the top expects these ships to come back-but we’ve got to locate those earth-type planets; the human race needs them. That is what you boys are for: to report back. Then it won’t matter that the ships won’t come back.”
“I’m not scared,” I said firmly.
Pat glanced at me and looked away. I hadn’t telepathed but I had told him plainly that the matter was
not settled as to which one of us would go. Uncle Steve looked at me soberly and said, “I didn’t expect you to be, at your age. Nor am I; I’ve been living on borrowed time since I was nineteen. By now I’m so convinced of my own luck that if one ship comes back, I’m sure it will be mine. But do you see why
it
would be silly to argue with your mother that half a set of twins is better than none? Emotionally your argument is all wrong. Go read the Parable of the Lost Sheep. You point out to your mother that one of you will be safe at home and it will simply fix her
mind on the fact that the other
one isn’t safe and isn’t home. If your Pop tries to reassure her, he is likely to stumble onto these facts-for they aren’t secret, not the facts on which the statisticians based their predictions;
it is just that the publicity about this project will emphasize the positive and play down the negative.”
“Uncle Steve,” objected Pat, “I don’t see how they can be sure that most of the ships will be lost.” “They can’t be sure. But these are actually optimistic assumptions based on what experience the race
has had with investigating strange places. It’s like this, Pat: you can be right over and over again, but when it comes to exploring strange places, the first time you guess wrong is the last guess you make. You’re dead. Ever looked at the figures about it in just this one tiny solar system? Exploration is like Russian roulette; you can win and win, but if you keep on, it will kill you, certain.
So
don’t get your parents stirred up on this phase of the matter. I don’t mind-a man is entitled to die the way he wants to; that’s one thing they haven’t taxed. But there is no use in drawing attention to the fact that one of you two isn’t coming back.”
V THE PARTY OF THE SECOND PART
Uncle Steve was right about the folks giving in; Pat left for the training course three weeks later.
I still don’t know just how it was that Pat got to be the one. We never matched for it, we never had a knock-down argument, and I never agreed. But Pat went.
I tried to settle it with him several times but he always put me off, telling me not to worry and to wait and see how things worked out. Presently I found it taken for granted that Pat was going and I was
staying. Maybe I should have made a stand the day we signed the contract, when Pat hung back and let me sign first, thereby getting me down on paper as the party of the second part who stayed home,
instead of party of the third part who went. But it had not seemed worth making a row about, as the two were interchangeable by agreement among the three parties to the contact. Pat pointed this out to me just before we signed; the important thing was to get the contract signed while our parents were holding
still-get their signatures.
Was Pat trying to put one over on me right then? If so, I didn’t catch him wording his thoughts. Contrariwise, would I have tried the same thing on him if I had thought
of it? I don’t know, I just don’t know. In any case, I gradually became aware that the matter was settled; the family took it for granted and so did the LRF people. So I told Pat it was not settled. He just shrugged and reminded me that it had not been his doing. Maybe I could get them to change their minds… if I didn’t care whether or not I
upset the applecart.
I didn’t want to do that. We did not know that the LRF would have got down on its knees and wept rather than let any young and healthy telepath pair get away from them; we thought
they had plenty to
choose from. I thought that if
I made a fuss they might tear up the contract, which they could do up till D-Day by paying a small penalty.
Instead I got Dad alone and talked to him. This shows how desperate I was; neither Pat nor I ever went alone to our parents about the other one. I didn’t feel easy about it, but stammered and stuttered and had trouble making Dad understand why I felt swindled.
Dad looked troubled and said, “Tom, I thought
you and your brother had settled this between you?” “That’s what I’m trying to tell you! We didn’t.”
“What do you expect me to do?”
“Why, I want you to make him be fair
about it. We ought to match for it, or something. Or you could do it for us and keep it fair and square. Would you?”
Dad gave
attention to his pipe the way he does when he is stalling. At last he said, “Tom, I don’t see how you can back out now, after everything is settled. Unless you want me to break the contract? It wouldn’t be easy but I can.”
“But I don’t have to break the contract. I just want an even chance. If I lose, I’ll shut up. If I win, it won’t change anything-except that I would go and Pat would stay.”
“Mmm …” Dad puffed on his pipe and looked thoughtful. “Tom, have you looked at your mother
lately?”
I had, but I hadn’t talked with her much. She was moving around
like a zombie, looking grief-stricken
and
hurt. “Why?”
“I can’t do this
to
her. She’s
already going through
the agony of losing your brother; I can’t put her
through
it on your account, too. She couldn’t stand
it.”
I knew she was feeling bad, but I could not see what difference it would make if we swapped. “You’re not suggesting that Mum wants it this way? That she would rather have Pat go than me?”
“I am not. Your mother loves you both, equally,” “Then it would be just the same to her.”
“It would not. She’s undergoing the grief of losing one of her sons. If you swapped now, she would
have to go through
it afresh for her other son. That wouldn’t be fair.” He knocked his pipe against an ash tray, which was the same as gaveling that the meeting was adjourned. “No, son, I’m afraid that you
will just have to stand by your agreement.”
It was hopeless so I shut up. With Dad, bringing Mum’s
welfare into it was the same as trumping an ace.
Pat left for the training center four days later. I didn’t see much of him except the hours we spent down
at
the TransLunar Building for he was dating Maudie every night and I was not included. He pointed
out that this was the last he would see of her whereas I would have plenty of time-so get lost, please. I
did
not argue; it was not only fair, taken by itself, but I did not want to go along on their dates under the circumstances. Pat and I were farther apart those last few days than we had ever been.
It did not affect our telepathic ability, however, whatever this “tuning” was that some minds could do went right on and we could do it as easily as we could talk … and turn it off as easily, too. We didn’t have to “concentrate” or “clear our minds” or any of that Eastern mysticism nonsense. When we wanted to “talk,”
we talked.
When Pat left I felt lost. Sure, I was in touch with him four hours a day and any other time I cared to call him, but you can’t live your whole life doing things by two’s without getting out of joint when you
have to do things by one’s. I didn’t have new habits yet. I’d get ready to go someplace, then I would stop at the door and wonder
what I had forgotten. Just Pat. It is mighty lonesome to start off somewhere by yourself when you’ve always done it with someone.
Besides that, Mum was being brightly cheerful and tender and downright unbearable, and my sleep
was
all broken up. The training center worked on Switzerland’s time zone which meant that I, and all other twins who were staying behind no matter where on. Earth they were, worked our practice messages on Swiss time, too. Pat would whistle in my ears and wake me at two in the morning each night and then I would work until dawn and try to catch up on sleep in the daytime.
It was inconvenient but necessary and I was well paid. For the first time in my life I had plenty of
money. So did all of our family, for I started paying a fat board bill despite Dad’s objections. I even bought
myself a watch (Pat had taken ours with him) without
worrying about the price, and we were talking about moving into a bigger place.
But the LRF was crowding more and more into my life and I began to realize that the contract covered more than just recording messages from my twin. The geriatrics program started at once. “Geriatrics” is a funny term to use about a person not old enough to vote but it had the special meaning here of
making me live as long as possible by starting on me at once. What I ate was no longer my business; I had to follow the diet they ordered, no more sandwiches picked up casually. There was a long list of
“special hazard”
things I must not do. They gave me shots for everything from housemaid’s knee to
parrot fever and I had a physical examination so thorough
as to make every other one seem like a mere laying on of hands.
The only consolation was that Pat told me they were doing. the same to him. We might be common as
mud most ways but we were irreplaceable communication equipment to LRF, so we got the treatment a prize race horse or a prime minister gets and which common people hardly ever get. It was a nuisance.
I did not call Maudie the first week or ten days after Pat left; I didn’t feel easy about her. Finally she called me and asked if I were angry with her or was she in quarantine? So we made a date for that night. It was not festive. She called me “Pat” a couple of times, which she used to do every now and then and it had never
mattered, since Pat and I were used to people mixing up our names. But now it was awkward, because
Pat’s ghost was a skeleton at the feast.
The second time she did it I said angrily, “If you want to talk to Pat, I can get in touch with him in half a second!”
“What? Why, Tom!”
“Oh, I know you would rather
I was Pat! If you think I enjoy being second choice, think again.”
She got tears in her eyes and I got ashamed and more difficult. So we had a bitter argument and then I was telling her how I had been swindled.
Her reaction wasn’t what I expected. Instead of sympathy she said, “Oh, Tom, Tom! Can’t you see that Pat didn’t do this to you? You did it to yourself.”
“Huh?”
“It’s not his fault;
it’s your own. I used to get so tired of the way you let him push you
around. You liked having him push you around. You’ve got a ‘will to fail.’“
I was so angry I had trouble answering. “What are you talking about? That sounds like a lot of cheap,
chimney-corner psychiatry to me. Next thing you know you’ll be telling me I have a ‘death wish.’“
She blinked back tears.
“No. Maybe Pat has that. He was always kidding about it but, just the same, I know
how dangerous it is. I know we won’t see him again.”
I chewed that over. “Are you trying to say,” I said slowly, “that I let Pat do me out of it because I was afraid to go?”
“What? Why, Tom dear, I never said anything of the sort.”
“It sounded like it.” Then I knew why it sounded like it. Maybe I was afraid. Maybe I had struggled
just hard enough to let Pat win… because
I knew what was going to happen to the one who went.
Maybe I was a coward.
We made it up and the date seemed about to end satisfactorily. When I took her home I was thinking of trying to kiss her good
night-I never had, what with the way Pat and I were
always in each other’s hair. I think she expected me to, too.., when Pat suddenly whistled at me.
“Hey! You awake, mate?”
(“Certainly,”) I answered shortly. (“But I’m busy.”)
“How busy? Are you out with my girl?”
(“What makes you think that?”)
“You are, aren’t you? I figured you were. How are you making out?” (“Mind your own business!”)
“Sure, sure! Just say hello to her for me. Hi, Maudie!” Maudie said, “Tom, what are you so preoccupied about?”
I answered, “Oh, it’s just Pat. He says to say hello to you.” “Oh… well, hello to him from me.”
So I did. Pat chuckled. “Kiss her good
night for me.” So I didn’t,
not for either of us.
But I called her again the next day and we went out together regularly after that. Things began to be awfully pleasant where Maudie was concerned … so pleasant that I even thought about the fact that college students sometimes got married and now I would be able to afford it, if it happened to work out that way. Oh, I wasn’t dead sure I wanted to tie myself down so young, but it is mighty lonely to be alone when you’ve always
had
somebody with you.
Then they brought Pat home on a shutter.
It was actually an ambulance craft, specially chartered. The idiot had sneaked off and tried skiing, which he knew as much about as I know about pearl diving. He did not have much of a tumble; he practically fell over his own feet. But there he was, being carried into our flat on a stretcher, numb from the waist down and his legs useless. He should have been taken to a hospital, but he wanted to come home and Mum wanted him to come home, so Dad insisted on it. He wound up in the room Faith had vacated and I went back to sleeping on the couch.
The household was all upset, worse than it had been when Pat went away. Dad almost threw Frank
Dubois out of the house
when Frank said that now that this space travel nonsense was disposed of, he was still prepared to give Pat a job if he would study bookkeeping, since a bookkeeper could work
from
a wheelchair. I don’t know; maybe Frank had good intentions, but I sometimes think “good intentions”
should be declared a capital crime.
But the thing that made me downright queasy was the way Mother took it. She was full of tears and
sympathy and she could not do enough for Pat-she spent hours rubbing his legs, until she was ready to collapse. But I could see, even if Dad couldn’t, that she was indecently happy-she had her “baby” back. Oh,
the tears weren’t fake … but females seem able to cry and be happy at the same time.
We all knew that the “space travel nonsense” was washed up, but we did not discuss it, not even Pat and I; while he was flat on his back and helpless and no doubt feeling even worse than I did was no time to blame him for hogging things and then wasting our chance. Maybe I was bitter but it was no
time to let him know. I was uneasily aware that the fat LRF cheeks would stop soon and the family
would be short of money again when we needed it most and I regretted that expensive watch and the money I had blown in taking Maudie to places we had never been able to afford, but I avoided thinking
about even that; it was spilt milk. But I did wonder what kind of a job I could get instead of starting college.
I was taken off guard when Mr. Howard showed up-I had halfway expected that LRF would carry us on the payroll until after Pat was operated on, even though the accident was not their fault and was the result of Pat’s not obeying their regulations. But with the heaps of money they had I thought
they might be generous.
But Mr. Howard did not even raise the question of the Foundation paying for, or not paying for, Pat’s disability; he simply wanted to know how soon I would be ready to report to the training center?
I was confused and Mother was hysterical and Dad was angry and Mr. Howard was bland. To listen to
him
you would have thought that nothing had happened, certainly nothing which involved the slightest idea of letting us out of our contract. The parties of the second part and of the third part were
interchangeable; since Pat could not go, naturally I would. Nothing had happened which interfered with our
efficiency as a communication team. To be sure, they had let us have a few days to quiet down in view of the sad accident-but could I report at once? Time was short.
Dad got purple and almost incoherent. Hadn’t they done enough
to his family? Didn’t they have any decency? Any consideration?
In the middle of it, while I was trying to adjust to the new situation and wandering what I should say,
Pat
called me silently. “Tom! Come here!”
I excused myself and hurried to him. Pat and I had hardly telepathed at all since he had been hurt. A
few
times he had called me in the night to fetch him a drink of water or something like that, but we had
never really talked, either out loud or in our minds. There was just this black, moody silence that shut me out. I didn’t know how to cope with it; it was the first time either
of us had ever been ill without the other one.
But when he called I hurried in. “Shut the door.”
I did so. He looked at me grimly. “I caught you before you promised anything, didn’t I?” “Yeah.”
“Go out there and tell Dad I want to see him right away. Tell Mum I asked her to please quit crying, because she is getting me upset.” He smiled sardonically. “Tell Mr. Howard to let me speak to my
parents alone. Then you beat it.”
“Huh?”
“Get out, don’t stop to say good-by and don’t say where you are going. When I want you, I’ll tell you.
If you hang around,
Mother will work on you and get you to promise things.”
He looked at me bleakly.
“You never did have any will power.”
I let the dig slide off; he was ill. “Look,
Pat, you’re up against a combination this time. Mother is
going to get her own way no matter
what and Dad is so stirred up that I’m surprised he hasn’t taken a poke at Mr. Howard.”
“I’ll handle Mother, and Dad, too. Howard should have stayed away. Get going. Split ‘em up, then get lost.”
“All right,” I said uneasily. “Uh… look, Pat, I appreciate He looked at me and his lip curled. “Think I’m doing this for you?”
“Why, I thought-”
“You never think … and I’ve been doing nothing else for days. If I’m going to be a cripple, do you fancy I’m going to spend my life in a public ward? Or here, with Mother drooling over me and Dad pinching pennies and the girls getting sick of the sight of me? Not Patrick! If I have to be like this, I’m going to have the best of everything … nurses to jump when I lift a finger and dancing girls to entertain
me-and you are going to see that the LRF pays
for it. We can keep our contract and we’re going to. Oh,
I know you don’t want to
go, but now you’ve got to.”
“Me? You’re all mixed up. You crowded me out. You-”
“Okay, forget it. You’re rarin’ to go.” He reached, up and punched me in the ribs, then grinned. “So
we’ll both go-for
you’ll take me along every step of the way. Now get out there and break that up.”
I left two days later. When Pat handed Mum his reverse-twist whammie, she did not even fight. If
getting the money to let her sick baby have proper care and everything else he wanted meant that I had to space, well, it was too bad but that was how it was. She told me how much it hurt to have me go but I knew she was not too upset. But I was, rather … I wondered what the score would have been if it had been I who was in Pat’s fix? Would she have let Pat go just as easily simply to get me anything I
wanted? But I decided to stop thinking about it; parents probably don’t know that they are playing
favorites even when they are doing it.
Dad got me alone for a man-to-man talk just before I left. He hemmed and hawed and stuck in
apologies about how he should have talked things over with me before this and seemed even more embarrassed than I was, which was plenty. When he was floundering I let him know that one of our
high school courses had covered most of what he was trying to say. (I didn’t let him know that the course had been an anti-climax.) He brightened up and said, “Well, son, your mother and I have tried to teach you right from wrong. Just remember that you are a Bartlett and you won’t make too many
mistakes. On that other matter, well, if you will always ask yourself whether a girl is the sort you would
be proud to bring home to meet your mother, I’ll be satisfied.”
I promised-it occurred to me that I wasn’t going to have much chance to fall into bad company, not with psychologists practically dissecting everybody in Project Lebensraum. The bad apples were never going into the barrel
When I see how naive parents are I wonder how the human race keeps on being born. Just the same it was touching and I appreciate the ordeal he put himself through to get me squared away-Dad was always a decent guy and meant well.
I had a last date with Maudie but it wasn’t much; we spent it sitting around
Pat’s bed, She did kiss me good-by-Pat told her
to.
Oh, well!
VI TORCHSHIP “LEWIS AND CLARK”
I was in Switzerland only two days. I got a quick look at the lake at Zurich and that was all; the time was jammed with trying to hurry me through
all the things Pat had been studying for weeks. It couldn’t be done, so they gave me spools of minitape which I was to study after the trip started.
I had one advantage: Planetary League Auxiliary Speech was a required freshman course
at our high school-P-L lingo was the working language of Project Lebensraum. I can’t say I could speak it when I got there, but it isn’t hard. Oh, it seems a little silly to say “goed” when you’ve always said “gone” but you get used to it, and of course all technical words are Geneva-International and always have been.
Actually, as subproject officer Professor Brunn pointed out, there was not a lot that a telepathic communicator had to know before going aboard ship; the principal purpose
of the training center had
been to get the crews together, let them eat and live together, so that the psychologists could spot personality frictions which had not been detected through tests.
“There isn’t any doubt about you, son. We have your brother’s record and we know how close your tests come to matching his. You telepaths have to deviate widely from accepted standards before we would disqualify one of you.”
“Sir?’
“Don’t you see? We can turn down a ship’s captain just for low blood sugar before breakfast and a latent tendency to be short
tempered therefrom until he has had his morning porridge. We can fill most billets twenty times over and juggle them until they are matched like a team of acrobats. But not you people. You are so scarce that we must allow you any eccentricity which won’t endanger the ship: I wouldn’t mind if you believed in astrology-you don’t, do you?”
“Goodness, no!” I answered, shocked.
“You see? You’re a normal, intelligent boy; you’ll do. Why, we would take your twin, on a stretcher, if
we had to.”
Only telepaths were left when I got to Zurich. The captains and the astrogation and torch crews had joined the ships first, and then the specialists and staff people. All the “idlers” were aboard but us. And
I hardly had time to get acquainted even with my fellow mind readers.
They were an odd bunch and I began to see what Professor Brunn meant by saying that we freaks had
to
be allowed a little leeway. There were a dozen of us-just for the Lewis and Clark, I mean; there were a hundred and fifty for the twelve ships of the fleet, which was every telepathic pair that LRF had been
able to sign up. I asked one of them, Bernhard van Houten, why each ship was going to carry so many telepaths?
He looked at me pityingly. “Use your head, Tom. If a radio burns out a valve, what do you do?” “Why, you replace it.”
“There’s your answer. We’re spare parts. If either end of a telepair dies or anything, that ‘radio’ is
burned out, permanently. So they plug in another one of us. They want to be sure they have at least one telepair still working right up to the end of the trip…they hope.”
I hardly had time to learn their names before we were whisked away. There was myself and Bernhard van Houten, a Chinese-Peruvian girl named Mei-Ling Jones (only she pronounced it “Hone-Ace”),
Rupert Hauptman, Anna Horoshen, Gloria Maria Antonita Docampo, Sam Rojas, and Prudence Mathews. These were more or less my age. Then there was Dusty Rhodes who looked twelve and
claimed to be fourteen. I wondered how LRF had persuaded his parents to permit such a child to go.
Maybe they hated him; it would have been easy to do.
Then there were three who were older than the rest of us: Miss Gamma Furtney, Cas Warner, and
Alfred McNeil. Miss Gamma was a weirdie, the sort of old maid who never admits to more than thirty; she was our triplet. LRF had scraped up four sets of triplets who were m-r’s and could be persuaded to
go; they were going to be used to tie the twelve ships together into four groups
of three, then the groups
could be hooked with four sets of twins.
Since triplets are eighty-six times as scarce as twins it was surprising that they could find enough who were telepathic and would go, without
worrying about whether or not they were weirdies. I suspect that the Misses Alpha, Beta, and Gamma Furtney were attracted by the Einstein time effect; they could get even with all the men who had not married them by not getting older
while those men died of old age.
We were a “corner” ship and Cas Warner
was
our sidewise twin, who would hook us through his twin to the Vasco da Gama, thus linking two groups of three. Other sidewise twins tied the other comers.
The
ones who worked ship-to-ship did not have to be young, since their twins (or triplets) were not left back on Earth, to grow older while their brothers or sisters stayed young through relativity. Cas Warner
was
forty-five, a nice quiet chap who seemed to enjoy eating with us kids.
The twelfth was Mr. (“Call me ‘Uncle Alfred’ “) McNeil, and he was an old darling. He was a Negro, his age was anything from sixty-five on up (I couldn’t guess), and he had the saintliness that old people get when they don’t turn sour and self-centered instead…to look at him you would bet heavy odds that he was a deacon in his church.
I got acquainted with him because I was terribly homesick the first night I was in Zurich and he noticed it and invited me to his room after supper and sort of soothed me. I thought he was one of the Foundation psychologists, like Professor Brunn-but
no, he was half of a telepair himself…and not even a sidewise twin; his partner was staying on Earth.
I couldn’t believe it until be showed me a picture
of his pair partner-a little girl with merry eyes and pigtails-and I finally got it through my thick head that here was that rarity, a telepathic pair who were not twins. She was Celestine Regina Johnson, his great-niece-only be called her “Sugar Pie” after he introduced me to the photograph and had told her who I was.
I had to pause and tell Pat about it, not remembering that he had already met them.
Uncle Alfred was retired and had been playmate-in-chief to his baby great-niece, for he had lived with his niece and her husband. He had taught the baby to talk. When her parents were both killed
in an accident he had gone back to work rather than let the child be adopted. “I found
out that I could keep
tabs on Sugar Pie even when I couldn’t see her. She was always a good baby and it meant I could watch out
for her even when I had to be away. I knew it was a gift; I figured that the Lord in His infinite mercy had granted what I needed to let me take care of my little one.”
The only thing that had worried him was that he might not live long enough; or, worse still, not be able to work long enough, to permit him to bring up Sugar Pie and get her started right. Then Project Lebensraum had solved everything. No, he didn’t mind being away from her because be was not away from her; he was with her every minute.
I gathered an impression that he could actually see her but I didn’t want to ask. In any case, with him stone walls did not a prison make nor light-years a separation. He knew that the Infinite Mercy that had
kept them together this long would keep them together long enough
for him to finish his appointed
task. What happened after that was up to the Lord.
I had never met anybody who was so quietly, serenely happy. I didn’t feel homesick again until I left
him and went to bed. So I called Pat and told him about getting acquainted with Uncle Alfred. He said
sure, Uncle All was a sweet old codger…
and
now I should shut
up and go to sleep, as I had a hard day
ahead of me tomorrow.
Then they zoomed us out to the South Pacific and we spent one night on Canton Atoll before we went aboard They wouldn’t let us swim in the lagoon
even though Sam had arranged a picnic party of me and himself and Mei-Ling and Gloria; swimming was one of the unnecessary hazards. Instead we went to bed early and were awakened two hours before dawn-a ghastly time of day, particularly when your
time sense has been badgered by crossing too many time zones too fast. I began to wonder what I was
doing there and why?
The Lewis and Clark was a few hundred miles east of there in an unused part of the ocean. I had not realized how much water
there was until I took a look at it from the air-and at that you see just the top.
If they could figure some way to use all those wet acres as thoroughly as they use the Mississippi Valley they wouldn’t need other planets.
From the air the Lewis and Clark looked like a basketball floating in water; you could not see that it was really shaped like a turnip. It floated with the torch down; the hemispherical upper part was all that showed. I got one look at her, with submersible freighters around
her looking tiny in comparison,
then our bus was hovering over her and we were being told to mind our step on the ladder and not leave anything behind in the bus. It occurred to me that it wouldn’t do any good to write to Lost-and-Found if
we did. It was a chilly thought
… I guess I was still homesick, but mostly I was excited.
I got lost a couple of times and finally found my stateroom just as the speaker system was booming: “All hands, prepare for acceleration. Idlers strap down. Boost stations report in order. Minus fourteen
minutes.” The man talking was so matter of fact that he might as well have been saying, “Local passengers change at Birmingham.”
The stateroom was big enough, with a double wardrobe
and a desk with a built-in viewer-recorder and
a little wash-stand and two pull-down beds. They were down, which limited the floor space. Nobody else was around so I picked one, lay down and fastened the three safety belts. I had just done so when
that little runt Dusty Rhodes stuck his head in. “Hey! You got my bed!”
I started to tell him off, then decided that just before boost was no time for an argument. “Suit yourself,” I answered, unstrapped, and moved into the other one, strapped down again.
Dusty looked annoyed; I think he wanted an argument. Instead of climbing into the one I had vacated, he stuck his head out the door and looked around. I said, “Better strap down. They already passed the word.”
“Tripe,” he answered without turning. “There’s plenty of time. I’ll take a quick look in the control room.”
I was going to suggest that he go outside while he was about it when a ship’s officer came through, checking the rooms. “In you get, son,” he said briskly, using the no-nonsense tone in which you tell a dog to heel. Dusty opened his mouth, closed it, and climbed in. Then the officer “baby-strapped” him,
pulling the buckles around so that they could not be reached by the person in the bunk. He even put the chest strap around Dusty’s arms.
He then checked my belts. I had my arms outside the straps but all he said was, “Keep your arms on the mattress during boost,” and left.
A female voice said, “All special communicators link with your telepartners.”
I had been checking with Pat ever since I woke up and had described the Lewis and Clark to him when
we first sighted her and then inside as well. Nevertheless I said, (“Are you there, Pat?”)
“Naturally. I’m not going anyplace. What’s the word?”
(“Boost in about ten minutes. They just told us to link with our partners during boost.”)
“You had better stay linked, or I’ll beat your ears off! I don’t want to miss anything. (“Okay, okay, don’t race your engine. Pat? This isn’t quite the way I thought it would be.”) “Huh? How?”
(“I don’t know. I guess I expected brass bands and speeches and such. After all, this is a big day. But aside from pictures they took of us last night at Canton Atoll, there was more fuss made when we started for Scout camp.”)
Pat chuckled. “Brass bands would get wet where you are-not to mention soaked with neutrons.” (“Sure, sure.”) I didn’t have to be told that a torchship needs elbow room for a boost. Even when they
perfected a way to let them make direct boost from Earth-zero instead of from a space station,
they still needed a few thousand square miles of ocean-and at that you heard ignorant prattle about how the back
wash was changing the climate and the government ought
to do something.
“Anyhow, there are plenty of brass bands and speeches. We are watching one by the Honorable J. Dillberry Egghead… shall I read it back?”
(“Uh, don’t bother. Who’s ‘we’?”)
“All of us. Faith and Frank just came in.”
I was about to ask about Maudie when a new voice came over the system: “Welcome aboard, friends. This is the Captain. We will break loose at an easy three gravities; nevertheless, I want to warn you to
relax and keep your arms inside your couches. The triple boost will last only six minutes, then you will be allowed to get up. We take off in number two position, just after the Henry Hudson.”
I repeated to Pat what the Captain was saying practically as fast as he said it; this was one of the things
we had practiced while he was at the training center: letting your directed thoughts echo what somebody else was saying so that a telepair acted almost like a microphone and a speaker. I suppose he was doing the same at the other end, echoing the Captain’s words to the family a split second behind me-it’s not hard with practice.
The Captain said, “The Henry is on her final run-down
… ten seconds…
five seconds… now!”
I saw something like heat lightning even though
I was in a closed room. For a few seconds there was a sound over the speaker like sleet on a window, soft and sibilant and far away. Pat said, “Boy!”
(“What is it, Pat?”)
“She got up out of there as if she had sat on a bee. Just a hole in the water and a flash of light. Wait a sec-they’re shifting the view pick-up from the space station
to Luna.”
(“You’ve got a lot better view than I have. All I can see is the ceiling of this room.”)
The female voice said, “Mr. Warner! Miss Furtney! Tween-ships telepairs start recording.”
The Captain said, “All hands, ready for boost. Stand by for count down,”
and another voice started in, “Sixty seconds … fifty-five … fifty … forty-five … holding on-forty-five … holding forty-five… holding…
holding…”
-until I was ready to scream.
“Tom, what’s wrong?” (“How should I know?”)
“Forty… thirty-five … thirty…”
“Tom, Mum wants me to tell you to be very careful.”
(“What does she think I can do? I’m just lying here, strapped down.”)
“I know.” Pat chuckled. “Hang on tight to the brush, you lucky stiff; they are about to take away the ladder.”
“… four!… Three!… Two!… ONE!”
I didn’t see a flash, I didn’t hear anything. I simply got very heavy-like being on the bottom of a football pile-up.
“There’s nothing but steam where you were.” I didn’t answer, I was having trouble breathing.
“They’ve shifted the pick-up.
They’re following you with a telephoto now. Tom, you ought to see this … you look just like a sun. It burns the rest of the picture
right out of the tank.”
(“How can I see it?”)
I said crossly. (“I’m in it.’) “You sound choked up. Are you all right?”
(“You’d sound choked, too, if you had sand bags piled across your chest.”) “Is it bad?”
(“It’s not good. But it’s all right, I guess.”)
Pat let up on me and did a right good job of describing what he was seeing by television. The Richard
E. Byrd took off just after we did, before we had finished the high boost to get escape velocity from Earth; he told me all about it. I didn’t have anything to say anyhow; I couldn’t see anything and I didn’t feel like chattering. I just wanted to hold still and feel miserable.
I suppose it was only six minutes but it felt more like
an hour. After a long, long time, when I had decided the controls were jammed and we were going to keep on at high boost until we passed the speed of light, the pressure suddenly relaxed and I felt light as a snowflake … if it hadn’t been for the straps I would have floated up to the ceiling.
“We have reduced to one hundred and ten per cent of one gravity,” the Captain said cheerfully. “Our cruising boost will be higher, but we will give the newcomers among us a while to get used to it.” His
tone changed and he said briskly, “All stations, secure from blast-off and set space watches, third section.”
I loosened my straps and sat up and then stood up. Maybe we were ten per cent heavy, but it did not feel like it; I felt fine. I started for the door, intending to look around more than I had been able to when
I came aboard.
Dusty Rhodes yelled at me. “Hey! Come back here and unstrap me! That moron fastened the buckles
out of my reach.”
I turned and looked at him. “Say ‘please.’“
What Dusty answered was not “please.” Nevertheless I let him loose. I should have made him say it; it might have saved trouble later.
VII 19,900 WAYS
The first thing that happened in the L.C. made me think I was dreaming-I
ran into Uncle Steve.
I was walking along the circular passageway that joined the staterooms on my deck and looking for the passage inboard, toward the axis of the ship. As I turned the comer I bumped into someone. I said,
“Excuse me,” and started to go past when the other person grabbed my arm and clapped me on the shoulder. I looked up and it was Uncle Steve, grinning and shouting at me. “Hi, shipmate! Welcome aboard!”
“Uncle Steve! What are you doing here?”
“Special assignment from the General Staff … to keep you out of trouble.” “Huh?”
There was no mystery when he explained. Uncle Steve had known
for a month that his application for special discharge to take service with the LRF for Project Lebensraum had been approved; he had not told the family but had spent the time working a swap to permit him to be in the same ship as Pat-or, as
it
turned out, the one I was in.
“I thought
your mother might take it easier if she knew I was keeping an eye on her boy. You can tell her about it the next time you are hooked in with your twin.”
“I’ll tell her
now,” I answered and gave a yell in my mind for Pat. He did not seem terribly interested; I guess a reaction was setting in and he was sore at me for being where he had expected to be. But Mother was there and he said he would tell her. “Okay, she knows.”
Uncle Steve looked at me oddly. “Is it as easy as that?”
I explained that it was just like talking … a little faster, maybe, since you can think words faster than
you
can talk, once you are used to it. But he stopped me. “Never mind. You’re trying to explain color to a blind man. I just wanted Sis to know.”
“Well, okay.” Then I noticed that his uniform was different. The ribbons were the same and it was an
LRF
company uniform, like my own, which did not surprise me-but his chevrons
were gone: “Uncle Steve … you’re wearing major’s leaves!”
He nodded. “Home town boy makes good. Hard work, clean living, and so on.” “Gee, that’s swell!”
“They transferred me at my reserve rank, son, plus one bump for exceptionally neat test papers. Fact is, if I had stayed with the Corps, I would have retired as a ship’s sergeant at best-there’s no promotion in peacetime. But the Project was looking for certain men, not certain ranks, and I happened to have the right number of hands and feet for the job.”
“Just what is your job, Uncle?” “Commander of the ship’s guard.” “Huh? What have you got to guard?”
“That’s a good question. Ask me in a year
or two and I can give you a better
answer. Actually,
‘Commander Landing Force’ would be a better title. When we locate a likely looking planet-’when and if,’ I mean-I’m the laddie who gets
to
go out and check the lay of the land and whether the natives are friendly while you valuable types stay safe and snug in the ship.” He glanced at his wrist. “Let’s go to
chow.”
I wasn’t hungry and wanted to look around,
but Uncle Steve took me firmly by the arm and headed for
the
mess room. “When you have soldiered as long as I have, lad, you will learn that you sleep when you get a chance and that you are never late for chow line.”
It actually was a chow line, cafeteria style. The L.C. did not run to table waiters nor to personal service of any sort, except for the Captain and people on watch. We went through
the line and I found that I
was hungry after all. That meal only, Uncle Steve took me ever to the heads-of-departments table. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is my nephew with two heads, Tom Bartlett. He left his other head dirtside-
he’s a telepair twin. If he does anything he shouldn’t, don’t tell me, just clobber him.” He glanced at me; I was turning red. “Say ‘howdy,’ son … or just nod if you
can’t talk.”
I nodded and sat down. A sweet old girl with the sort of lap babies like to sit on was next to me. She smiled and said, “Glad to have you with us, Tom.” I learned that she was the Chief Ecologist. Her name was Dr. O’Toole, only nobody called her that, and she was married to one of the relativists.
Uncle Steve went around the table, pointing out who was who and what they did: the Chief Engineer.
the
Relativist (Uncle Steve called him the “Astrogator” as the job would be called in an ordinary ship),
Chief Planetologist Harry Gates and the Staff Xenologist, and so forth-I couldn’t remember the names at the time-and Reserve Captain Urqhardt. I didn’t catch the word “reserve” and was surprised at how young he was. But Uncle Steve corrected me: “No, no! He’s not the Captain. He’s the man who will be captain if it turns out we need a spare. Across from you is the Surgeon-don’t let that fool you, either; he never does surgery himself. Dr. Devereaux is the boss head-shrinker.”
I looked puzzled and Uncle Steve went on, “You don’t savvy? Psychiatrist. Doc Dev is watching every
move we make, trying to decide how quick he will have to be with the straitjacket and the needle. Correct, Doc?”
Dr. Devereaux buttered a roll. “Essentially, Major. But finish your meal; we’re not coming for you until later in the day.” He was a fat little toad, ugly as could be, and with a placid, unbreakable calm. He
went on, “I just had an
up setting thought, Major.”
“I thought
that thoughts never upset you?”
“Consider. Here I am charged with keeping quaint characters like you sane … but they forgot to assign anybody to keep me sane. What should I do?”
“Mmm…” Uncle Steve seemed to study it. “I didn’t know that head-shrinkers were supposed to be sane, themselves.”
Dr. Devereaux nodded. “You’ve put your finger on it. As in your profession, Major, being crazy is an asset. Pass the salt, please.”
Uncle Steve shut up and pretended to wipe off blood.
A man came in and sat down; Uncle Steve introduced me and said, “Staff Commander Frick, the Communications Officer. Your boss, Tom.”
Commander Frick nodded and said, “Aren’t you third section, young man?” “Uh, I don’t know, sir.”
“I do … and you should have known. Report to the communications office.” “Uh, you mean now, sir?”
“Right away. You are a half hour late.”
I
said, “Excuse me,” and got up in a hurry, feeling silly. I glanced at Uncle Steve but he wasn’t looking
my
way; he seemed not to have heard it.
The communications office was two decks up, right under the control room; I had trouble finding it. Van Houten was there and Mei-Ling and a man whose name was Travers, who was communicator-of-
the-watch. Mei-Ling was reading a sheaf of papers and did not look up; I knew that she was
telepathing. Van said, “Where the deuce have you been? I’m hungry.”
“I didn’t know,” I protested.
“You’re supposed to know.”
He left and I turned to Mr. Travers. “What do you want me to do?”
He was threading a roll of tape into an autotransmitter; he finished before he answered me. “Take that stack of traffic as she finishes it, and do whatever it is you do with it. Not that it matters.”
“You mean read it to my twin?” “That’s what I said.”
“Do you want him to record?”
“Traffic is always recorded. Didn’t they teach you anything?”
I thought about explaining that they really hadn’t because
there had not been time, when I thought, oh
what’s the use? He probably thought I was Pat and assumed that I had had the full course. I picked up papers Mei-Ling was through
with and sat down.
But Travers went on talking. “I don’t know what you freaks are up here for now anyhow. You’re not needed; we’re still in radio range.”
I put the papers down and stood up: “Don’t call us ‘freaks.’
“
He glanced at me and said, “my, how tall you’ve grown. Sit down and get to work.”
We were about the same height but he was ten years older and maybe thirty pounds
heavier. I might have passed it by if we had been alone, but not with Mei-Ling present.
“I said not to call us ‘freaks.’ It’s not polite.”
He looked tired and not amused but he didn’t stand up. I decided he didn’t want a fight and felt relieved. “All right, all right,” he answered. “Don’t be so touchy. Get busy on that traffic.”
I sat down and looked over the stuff I had to send, then called Pat and told him to start his recorder; this was not a practice message.
He answered, “Call back in half an hour. I’m eating dinner.”
(“I was eating lunch but I didn’t get to finish. Quit stalling, Pat. Take a look at that contract you were so anxious to sign.”)
“You were just as anxious. What’s the matter, kid? Cold feet already?”
(“Maybe, maybe not. I’ve got a hunch that this isn’t going to be one long happy picnic. But I’ve learned one thing already; when the Captain sends for a bucket of paint, he wants a full bucket and no excuses. So switch on that recorder and stand by to take down figures.”)
Pat muttered and gave in, then announced that he was ready after a delay that was almost certainly caused by Mother insisting that he finish dinner. “Ready.”
The traffic was almost entirely figures (concerning the take-off, I suppose) and code. Being such, I had
to have Pat repeat back everything. It was not hard, but it was tedious. The only message in clear was one
from the Captain, ordering roses sent to a Mrs. Detweiler in Brisbane and charged to his LRF
account, with a message: “Thanks for a wonderful farewell dinner.”
Nobody else sent personal messages; I guess they had left no loose ends back on Earth.
I thought about sending some roses to Maudie, but I didn’t want to do it through
Pat. It occurred to me that I could do it through Mei-Ling, then I remembered that, while I had money in the bank, I had appointed Pat my attorney; if I ordered them, he would have to okay the bill I decided not to cross any
bridges I had burned behind me.
Life aboard the L.C., or the Elsie as we called her, settled into a routine. The boost built up another
fifteen per cent which made me weigh a hundred and fifty-eight pounds; my legs ached until I got used to it-but I soon did; there are advantages in being kind of skinny. We freaks stood a watch in five, two
at
a time-Miss Gamma and Cas Warner were not on our list because
they hooked sidewise with other
ships. At first we had a lot of spare time, but the Captain put a stop to that.
Knowing that the LRF did not really expect us to return, I had not thought much about that clause in the contract which provided for tutoring during the trip but I found out that the Captain did not intend
to
forget it. There was school for everybody, not just for us telepaths
who
were still of school
age. He appointed Dr. Devereaux, Mrs. O’Toole, and Mr. Krishnamurti a school board and courses were offered in practically everything, from life drawing to ancient history. The Captain himself taught
that last one; it turned out he knew Sargon the Second and Socrates like brothers.
Uncle Alfred tried to sign up for everything, which was impossible, even if he didn’t eat, sleep, nor
stand watch. He had never, he told me, had time for all the schooling he wanted and now at last he was going to get it. Even my real uncle, Steve, signed up for a couple of courses. I guess I showed surprise at this, for he said, “Look,
Tom, I found out my first cruise that the only way to make space bearable is
to
have something to learn and learn it. I used to take correspondence courses. But this bucket has the finest assemblage of really bright minds you are ever likely to see. If you don’t take advantage of it, you are an idiot. Mama O’Toole’s cooking course, for example: where else can you find a Cordon
Bleu graduate willing to teach you her high art free? I ask you!”
I objected
that I would never need to know how to cook high cuisine.
“What’s that got to do with it? Learning isn’t a means to an end; it is an end in itself. Look at Uncle Alf. He’s as happy as a boy with a new slingshot. Anyhow, if you
don’t sign up for a stiff course, old
Doc Devereaux will find some way to keep you busy, even if it is counting rivets. Why do you think the Captain made him chairman of the board of education?”
“I hadn’t thought about it. “
“Well, think about it. The greatest menace in space is going coffin crazy. You are shut up for a long
time in a small space and these is nothing outside but some mighty thin vacuum … no street lights, no bowling alleys. Inside are the same old faces and you start hating them. So a smart captain makes sure you have something to keep you interested and tired-and ours is the smartest you’ll find or he wouldn’t be on this trip.”
I began to realize that a lot of arrangements in the Elsie were simply to see that we stayed healthy and
reasonably happy. Not just school, but other things. Take the number we bad aboard, for example- almost two hundred. Uncle Steve told me that the Elsie could function as a ship with about ten: a captain, three control officers, three engineer officers, one communicator, one farmer, and a cook.
Shucks, you could cut that to five: two control officers (one in command), two torch watchstanders, and a farmer-cook.
Then why two hundred?
In the first place there was room enough.
The Elsie and the other ships had been rebuilt from the enormous freighters the LRF use to haul supplies out to Pluto and core material back to Earth. In the second place they needed a big scientific staff to investigate the planets we hoped to find. In the third place some were spare parts, like Reserve Captain Urqhardt and, well, me myself. Some of us would die or get killed; the ship had to go on.
But the real point, as I found out, is that no small, isolated social group can be stable. They even have a mathematics for it, with empirical formulas and symbols for “lateral pressures” and “exchange valences” and “exogamic relief.” (That last simply means that the young men of a small village should
find wives outside the village.)
Or look at it this way. Suppose you had a one-man space ship which could cruise alone for several years. Only a man who was already nutty a certain way could run it-otherwise he would soon go
squirrelly some other way and start tearing the controls off the panels. Make it a two-man ship: even if
you
used a couple as fond of each other
as
Romeo and Juliet, by the end of the trip even Juliet would
start showing black-widow blood.
Three is as bad or worse, particularly if they gang up two against one. Big numbers are much safer. Even with only two hundred people there are exactly nineteen thousand nine hundred ways to pair them off, either as friends or enemies, so you see that the social possibilities shoot up rapidly when you increase the numbers. A bigger group means more chances to find friends and more ways to avoid people you don’t like. This is terribly important aboard ship.
Besides elective courses we had required ones called “ship’s training”-by which the Captain meant that every body had to learn at least
one job he had
not signed up for. I stood two watches down in the damping room, whereupon Chief Engineer Roch stated in writing that he did not think that I would
ever make a torcher as I seemed to have an innate lack of talent for nuclear physics. As a matter of fact it made me nervous
to be that close to an atomic power plant and to realize the unleashed hell that was going on a few feet away from me.
I did not make out much better as a farmer, either. I spent two weeks in the air-conditioning plant and
the
only thing I did right was to feed the chickens. When they caught me cross-pollinating the wrong way some squash plants which were special pets of Mrs. O’Toole, she let me go, more in sorrow
than in anger. “Tom,” she said, “what do you do well?”
I thought about it. “Uh, I can wash bottles… and I used to raise hamsters.”
So she sent me over to the research department and I washed beakers in the chem lab and fed the experimental animals. The beakers were unbreakable. They wouldn’t let me touch the electron microscope. It wasn’t bad-I could have been assigned to the laundry.
Out of the 19,900 combinations possible in the Elsie, Dusty Rhodes and I were one of the wrong ones.
I hadn’t signed up for the life sketching class because he was teaching it; the little wart really was a fine draftsman. I know, I’m pretty good at it myself and I would have liked to have been in that class. What was worse, he had an offensively high I.Q., genius plus, much higher than mine, and he could argue rings around me. Along with that he had the manners of a pig and the social graces of a skunk-a bad go, any way you looked at
it.
“Please” and “Thank you” weren’t in his vocabulary. He never made his bed unless someone in
authority stood over him, and I was likely as not to come in and find him lying on mine, wrinkling it and getting the cover
dirty. He never hung up his clothes, he always left our wash basin filthy, and his best mood was complete silence.
Besides that, he didn’t bathe often enough.
Aboard ship that is a crime.
First I was nice to him, then I bawled him out, then I threatened him. Finally I told him that the next thing of his I found on my bed was going straight into the mass converter. He just sneered and the next day I found his camera on my bed and his dirty socks on my pillow.
I tossed the socks into the wash basin, which he had left filled with dirty water, and locked his camera in my wardrobe, intending to let him stew before I gave it back.
He didn’t squawk. Presently I found his camera gone from my wardrobe, in spite of the fact that it was locked with a combination which Messrs. Yale &
Towne had light-heartedly described as
“Invulnerable.” My clean shirts were gone, too … that is, they weren’t clean;
somebody had carefully dirtied every one of them.
I had not complained about him. It had become a point of pride to work it out myself; the idea that I
could not cope with somebody half my size and years my junior did not appeal to me.
But I looked at the mess he had made of my clothes and I said to myself, “Thomas Paine, you had
better admit that you are licked and holler for help-else your only chance will be to plead justifiable homicide.”
But I did not have to complain. The Captain sent for me; Dusty had complained about me instead. “Bartlett, young Rhodes tells me you are picking on him. What’s the situation from your point of
view?”
I started to swell up and explode. Then I let out my breath and tried to calm down; the Captain really
wanted to know.
“I don’t think so, sir, though it is true that we have not been getting along.” “Have you laid hands on him?”
“Uh … I haven’t smacked him, sir. I’ve jerked him off my bed more than once-and I wasn’t gentle about it.”
He sighed. “Maybe you should have smacked him. Out of my sight, of course. Well, tell me about it. Try to tell it straight-and complete.”
So I told him. It sounded trivial and I began to be ashamed of myself …
the Captain had more important things to worry about than whether
or not I had to scrub out a hand basin before I could wash
my
face. But he listened.
Instead of commenting,
maybe telling me that I should be able to handle a younger kid better, the Captain changed the subject.
“Bartlett, you saw that illustration Dusty had in the ship’s paper this morning?”
“Yes, sir. A real beauty,” I admitted. It was a picture of the big earthquake in Santiago,
which had happened after we left Earth.
“Mmm… we have to allow you special-talent people a little leeway. Young Dusty is along because he was the only m-r available who could receive and transmit pictures.”
“Uh, is that important, sir?”
“It could be. We won’t know until we need it. But it could be crucially important. Otherwise I would
never have permitted a spoiled brat to come aboard this ship.” He frowned. “However, Dr. Devereaux
is
of the opinion that Dusty is not a pathological ease.”
“Uh, I never
said he was, sir.”
“Listen, please. He says that the boy has an unbalanced personality-a brain that would do credit to a grown man but with greatly retarded social development. His attitudes and evaluations would suit a boy of five, combined with this clever brain. Furthermore Dr. Devereaux says that he will force the childish
part of Dusty’s personality to grow up, or he’ll turn in his sheepskin.”
“So? I mean, “Yes, sir?’ “
“So you should have smacked him. The only thing wrong with that boy is that his parents should have walloped him, instead of telling him how bright he was.” He sighed again.
“Now I’ve got to do it. Dr. Devereaux tells me I’m the appropriate father image.” “Yes, sir.”
“
‘Yes, sir,’ my aching head. This isn’t a ship; it’s a confounded nursery. Are you having any other
troubles?”
“No, sir.”
“I wondered. Dusty also complained that the regular communicators call you people ‘freaks.’ “ He eyed me.
I didn’t answer. I felt sheepish about it.
“In any case, they won’t again. I once saw a crewman try to knife another one, just because the other persisted in calling him ‘skin head.’ My people are going to behave like ladies and gentlemen or I’ll bang some heads together.” He frowned. “I’m moving Dusty into the room across
from my cabin. If Dusty will leave you alone, you let him alone. If he won’t … well, use your judgment, bearing in mind
that you are responsible for your actions-but
remember that I don’t expect any man to be a doormat. That’s all. Good-by.”
VIII RELATIVITY
I had been in the Elsie a week when it was decided to operate on Pat. Pat told me they were going to do it, but he did not talk about it much. His attitude was the old iron-man, as if he meant to eat peanuts and read comics while they were chopping on him. I think he was scared stiff … I would have been.
Not that I would have understood if I had known the details; I’m no neural surgeon, nor any sort; removing a splinter is about my speed.
But it meant we would be off the watch list for a while, so I told Commander Frick. He already knew
from
messages passed between the ship and LRF; he told me to drop off the watch list the day before my brother was operated and to consider myself available for extra duty during his convalescence. It did not make any difference to him; not only were there other
telepairs but we were still radio-linked to
Earth.
Two weeks after we started spacing
and the day before Pat was to be cut on I was sitting
in my room, wondering whether to go to the communications office and offer my valuable services in cleaning
waste baskets and microfilming files or just sit tight until somebody sent for me.
I had decided on the latter, remembering Uncle Steve’s advice never to volunteer, and was letting down
my bunk, when the squawker boomed: “T. P. Bartlett, special communicator, report to the Relativist!”
I hooked my bunk up while wandering if there was an Eye-Spy concealed in my room-taking down my
bunk during working hours seemed always to result in my being paged. Dr. Babcock was not in the control room and they chased me out, but not before I took a quick look around-the control room was off limits to anyone who did not work there. I found him down in the computation room across from the communications office, where I would have looked in the first place if I hadn’t wanted to see the control room.
I said, “T. P. Bartlett, communicator tenth grade, reporting to the Relativist as ordered.”
Dr. Babcock swung around in his chair
and
looked at me. He was a big raw-boned man,
all hands and feet, and looked more like a lumberjack than a mathematical physicist. I think he played it up-you know, elbows on the table and bad grammar on purpose. Uncle Steve said Babcock had more honorary degrees than most people had socks.
He stared at me and laughed. “Where did you get that fake military manner, son? Siddown. You’re Bartlett?”
I sat. “Yes, sir.”
“What’s this about you and your twin going off the duty list?”
“Well, my brother is in a hospital, sir. They’re going to do something to his spine tomorrow.” “Why didn’t you tell me?” I didn’t answer because it was so unreasonable; I wasn’t even in his
department. “Frick never tells me anything, the Captain never tells me anything, now you never tell me anything. I have to bang around the galley and pick up gossip to find out
what’s going on. I was
planning on working you over tomorrow. You know that don’t you?”
“Uh, no, sir.”
“Of course you don’t, became I never tell anybody anything either. What a way to run a ship! I should have stayed in Vienna. There’s a nice town. Ever have coffee and pastries in the Ring?” He didn’t wait
for an answer. “Nevertheless I was going to work you and your twin over tomorrow-so now we’ll have to do it today. Tell him to stand by.”
“Uh; what do you want him to do, Doctor? He’s already been moved to a hospital.”
“Just tell him to stand by. I’m going, to calibrate you two, that’s what. Figure out your index error.” “Sir?”
“Just tell him-”
So I called Pat. I hadn’t spoken to him since breakfast; I wondered how he was going to take it But he already knew. “Yes, yes,” he said in a tired voice.
“They’re setting up apparatus in my hospital room right now.
Mother made such a fuss I had to send her
out.”
(“Look, Pat, if you don’t want to do this, whatever it is, I’ll tell
them nothing doing. It’s an
imposition.”)
“What difference does it make?” he said irritably. “I’ve got to sweat out the next sixteen hours
somehow. Anyhow, this
may be the last time we work together.”
It was the first time he had shown that it was affecting his nerve. I said hastily, (“Don’t talk that way, Pat. You’re going to get well. You’re going to walk again. Shucks, you’ll even be able to ski if you want to.”)
“Don’t give me that Cheerful Charlie stuff. I’m getting more of it from the folks than I can use. It makes me want to throw up.”
(“Now see here, Pat-”)
“Stow it, stow it! Let’s get on with what they want us to do.” (“Well, all right.”) I spoke aloud: “He’s ready, Doctor.”
“Half a minute. Start your camera, O’Toole.” Dr. Babcock touched something on his desk.
“Commander Frick?”
“Yes, Doctor,” Frick’s voice answered.
“We’re ready. You coming in?”
“All set here,” I heard my boss answer. “We’ll come in.”
A moment later he entered, with Anna Horoshen. In the meantime I took a look around.
One whole wall of the computation room was a computer, smaller than the one at Los Alamos but not much. The blinking lights must have meant something to somebody. Sitting at right angles to it at a console was
Mr.
O’Toole and above the console was a big display scope; at about one-second intervals a flash of
light would peak in the center
of it.
Anna nodded without
speaking; I knew she must be linked. Pat said, “Tom, you’ve got a girl named
Anna Horoshen aboard: Is she around?”
(“Yes. Why?”)
“Say hello to her for me-1 knew her in Zurich. Her sister Becky is here.” He chuckled and I felt better. “Good looking babes, aren’t they? Maudie is jealous.”
Babcock said to Frick, “Tell them to stand by. First synchronizing run, starting from their end.”
“Tell them, Anna,”
She nodded. I wondered why they bothered with a second telepair when they could talk through myself and Pat. I soon found out: Pat and I were too busy.
Pat was sounding out ticks like a clock; I was told to repeat them… and every time I did another peak
of light flashed on the display scope. Babcock watched it, then turned me around so that I couldn’t see and taped a microphone to my voice box. “Again.”
Pat said, “Stand by-” and started ticking again. I did my best to tick right with him but it was the silliest performance possible. I heard Babcock say quietly, “That cut out the feedback and the speed-of- sound lag. I wish there were some way to measure the synaptic rate arose closely.”
Frick said, “Have you talked to Dev about it?” I went on ticking.
“A reverse run now, young lady,” Babcock said, and slipped headphones on me. I immediately heard a ticking like the ticks Pat had been sending. “That’s a spectral metronome you’re listening to, young fellow, timed by monochrome light. It was synchronized with the one your brother is using before we left Earth. Now start ticking at him,”
So I did. It had a hypnotic quality; it was easier
to
get into step and tick with it than it was to get out of step. It was impossible to ignore it. I began to get sleepy but I kept on ticking; I couldn’t stop.
“End of run,” Babcock announced. The ticking stopped and I rubbed my ears.
“Dr. Babcock?”
“ “Huh?”
“How can you tell one tick from another?”
“Eh? You can’t. But O’Toole can, he’s got it all down on film. Same at the other end. Don’t worry
about it; just try to stay in time.”
This silliness continued for more than an hour, sometimes with Pat sending, sometimes myself. At last O’Toole looked up and said, “Fatigue factor is cooking our goose, Doc. The second differences are running all over the lot.”
“Okay, that’s all,” Babcock announced. He turned to me. “You can thank your brother
for me and sign off.”
Commander Frick and Anna left. I hung around.
Presently Dr. Babcock looked up from his desk and said, “You can go, bub. Thanks.”
“Uh, Dr. Babcock?” “Huh? Speak up.”
“Would you mind telling me what this is all about?”
He looked surprised, then said, “Sorry. I’m not used to using people instead of instruments; I forget.
Okay, sit down. This is why you m-r people were brought along: for research into the nature of time.”
I stared. “Sir? I thought we were along to report back on the planets we expect to find.”
“Oh, that- Well, I suppose so, but this is much more important. There are too many people as it is; why
encourage new colonies? A mathematician could solve the population problem in jig time-just shoot every other one.”
Mr. O’Toole said, without looking up, “The thing I like about you, Chief, is your big warm heart.” “Quiet in the gallery, please. Now today, son, we have been trying to find out what time it is.”
I
must have looked as puzzled as I felt for he went on, “Oh, we know what time it is … but too many
different ways. See that?” He pointed at the display scope, still tirelessly making a peak every second. “That’s the Greenwich time tick, pulled in by radio and corrected for relative speed and change of
speed. Then there is the time you were hearing over the earphones; that is the time the ship runs by. Then there is the time you were getting from your brother and passing to us. We’re trying to compare them all, but the trouble is that we have to have people in the circuit and, while a tenth of a second is a short time for the human nervous system, a microsecond is a measurably long time in physics. Any radar system splits up a
microsecond as easily as you slice a pound of butter. So we use a lot of runs to
try to even out our ignorance.”
“Yes, but what do you expect to find out?”
“If I ‘expected,’ I wouldn’t be doing it. But you might say that we are trying to find out what the word “simultaneous” means.”
Mr. O’Toole looked up from the console. “If it means anything,” he amended.
Dr. Babcock glanced at him. “You still here? ‘If it means anything.’ Son, ever since the great Doctor Einstein, ‘simultaneous’ and ‘simultaneity’ have been dirty words to physicists. We chucked the very
concept, denied that it had meaning, and built up a glorious structure of theoretical physics without it.
Then you mind readers came along and kicked it over. Oh, don’t look guilty; every house
needs a housecleaning now and then. If you folks had done your
carnival stunt at just the speed of light, we would have assigned you a place in the files and forgotten you. But you rudely insisted on doing it at something enormously greater than the speed of light, which made you as welcome as a pig at a wedding. You’ve
split us physicists into two schools, those who want to class you as a purely psychological phenomenon and no business of physics-these are the ‘close your eyes and it will go away’ boys-and a second school which realizes that since measurements can be made of whatever this is you do, it is therefore the business of physics to measure and include
it … since physics is, above all,
the
trade of measuring things and assigning definite numerical values to them.”
O’Toole said, “Don’t wax philosophical, Chief.”
“You get back to your numbers, O’Toole; you have no soul These laddies want to measure how fast you do it. They don’t care how fast-they’ve already recovered from the blow that you do it faster than light-but they want to know exactly how fast. They can’t accept the idea that you do it ‘instantaneously,’ for that would require them to go to a different church entirely. They want to assign a definite speed of propagation, such-and-such number of times faster than the speed of light. Then they
can
modify their old equations and go right on happily doing business at the old stand.”
“They will,” agreed O’Toole.
“Then there is a third school of thought, the right one…my own.” O’Toole, without looking up, made a rude noise.
“Is that your asthma coming back?” Babcock said anxiously. “By the way, you got any results?”
“They’re still doing it in nothing flat. Measured time negative as often as positive and never greater
than inherent observational error.”
“You see, son? That’s the correct school. Measure what happens and let the chips fly where they may.” “Hear hear!”
“Quiet, you renegade Irishman. Besides that, you m-r’s give us our first real chance to check another
matter. Are you familiar with the relativity transformations?”
“You mean the Einstein equations? “Surely. You know the one for time?”
I
thought hard Pat and I had taken first-year physics our freshman year; it had been quite a while. I
picked up a piece of paper and wrote down what I thought it was:
“That’s it,” agreed Dr. Babcock. “At a relative velocity of ‘v’ time interval at first frame of reference equals time interval at second frame of reference multiplied by the square root of one minus the square of the relative velocity divided by the square of the speed of light. That’s just the special case, of
course, for constant speeds; it is more complicated for acceleration. But there has been much
disagreement as to what the time equations meant, or if they meant anything.”
I blurted out, “Huh? But I thought
the Einstein theory had been proved?” It suddenly occurred to me that, if the relativity equations were wrong, we were going to be away a mighty long time-Tau Ceti, our first stop, was eleven light-years from the Sun… and that was just our first one; the others were a lot farther.
But everybody said that once we got up near the speed of light the months would breeze past like days.
The
equations said so.
“Attend me. How do you prove that there are eggs in a bird’s nest? Don’t strain your gray matter: go climb the tree and find out. There is no other way. Now we are climbing the tree.”
“Fine!” said O’Toole. “Go climb a tree.”
“Noisy in here. One school of thought
maintained that the equations simply meant that a clock would
read differently if you could read it from a passing star … which you can’t… but that there was no real stretching or shrinking of time-whatever ‘real’ means. Another school pointed to the companion equations for length and mass, maintaining that the famous Michelson-Morley experiment showed that the length transformation was ‘real’ and pointing out that the increase of mass was regularly computed and used for particle-accelerator ballistics and elsewhere in nuclear physics-for
example, in the torch
that pushes this ship. So, they reasoned, the change in time rates must be real, because
the corollary
equations worked in practice. But nobody knew. You have to climb the tree and look.”
“When will we know?” I was still worrying. Staying several years, Einstein time, in the ship I had
counted on. Getting killed in the course of it, the way Uncle Steve said we probably would, I refused to worry about. But dying of old age in the Elsie was not what I had counted on. It was a grim thought, a life sentence shut up inside these steel walls.
“When? Why, we know right now.” “You do? What’s the answer?”
“Don’t hurry me, son. We’ve been gone a couple of weeks, at a boost
of 124% of one gee; we’re up to
about 9,000 miles per second now. We still haven’t come far-call it seven and a half light-hours or
about 5,450,000,000 miles. It will be the better part of a year before we are crowding the speed of light. Nevertheless we have reached a sizable percentage of that speed, about five per cent; that’s enough to show. Easy to measure, with the aid of you mind readers.”
“Well, sir? Is it a real time difference? Or is it just relative?”
“You’re using the wrong words. But it’s ‘real,’ so far as the word means
anything. The ratio right now is about 99.9%.”
“To put it exactly,” added Mr. O’Toole, “Bartlett’s slippage-that’s a technical term I just invented-his
‘slippage’ in time rate from that of his twin has now reached twelve parts in ten thousand.”
“So you would make me a liar for one fiftieth of one per cent?” Babcock complained. “O’Toole, why did I let you come along?”
“So you would have some one to work your arithmetic,” his assistant answered smugly.
Pat told me he did not want me around when they operated, but I came anyway. I locked myself in my room so nobody could disturb me and stuck with him. He didn’t really object; whenever I spoke he answered and the it got to the deadline the more he talked… a cheerful babble about nothing and
everything. It did not fool me.
When they wheeled him into surgery, he said, “Tom, you should see my anesthetist. Pretty as a sunny
day
and just lap size.”
(“Isn’t her face covered with a mask?”)
“Well, not completely. I can see her pretty blue eyes. 1 think I’ll ask her what she’s doing tonight.” (“Maudie won’t like that.”)
“You keep Maudie out of this; a sick man is entitled to privileges. Wait a sec, I’ll ask her.” (“What did she say?”)
“She said, ‘Nothing much,’ and that I would be doing the same for a few days. But I’ll get her phone number.”
(“Two gets you five she won’t give it to you.”)
“Well, I can try… uh uh! Too late, they’re starting in … Tom, you wouldn’t believe this needle; it’s the size of an air
hose. She says she wants me to count. Okay, anything for a laugh… one … two… three…”
Pat got up to seven and I counted with him. All the way through
I kept winding up tighter and tighter to unbearable tension and fear. I knew now what he apparently had been sure of all along,
that he was
not coming out of it. At the count of seven he lost track but his mind did not go silent. Maybe those around
the operating table thought they had him unconscious but I knew better; he was trapped inside and screaming to get out.
I called to him and he called back but we couldn’t find each other. Then I was as trapped and lost and
confused as he was and we groped around in the dark and the cold and the aloneness of the place where you die.
Then I felt the knife whittling at my back and I screamed.
The next thing I remember is a couple of faces floating over me. Somebody said, “I think he’s coming around, Doctor.” The voice did not belong
to anyone; it was a long way off.
Then there was just one face and it said, “Feeling better?” “I guess so. What happened?”
“Drink this. Here, I’ll hold up your head.”
When I woke up again I felt fairly wide awake and could see that I was in the ship’s infirmary. Dr.
Devereaux was there, looking at me. “You decided to come out of it, young fellow?”
“Out of what, Doctor? What happened?”
“I don’t know precisely, but you gave a perfect clinical picture of a patient terminating in surgical shock. By the time we broke
the lock on your door, you were far gone-you gave us a bad time. Can you tell me about it?”
I tried to think, then I remembered. Pat!
I called him in my mind. (“Pat! Where are you, boy?”)
He didn’t answer. I tried again and he still didn’t answer, so I knew. I sat up and managed to choke out,
“My brother … he died!”
Dr. Devereaux said, “Wups! Take it easy. Lie down. He’s not dead … unless he died in the last ten
minutes, which I doubt.”
“But I can’t reach him!
How
do you know? I can’t reach him, I tell you!”
“Come down off the ceiling. Because I’ve been checking on him all morning via the m-r’s on watch.
He’s resting
easily under an eighth grain of hypnal, which is why you can’t raise him. I may be stupid,
son-I was stupid, not to warn you to stay out of it-but I’ve been tinkering with the human mind long enough to figure out approximately what happened to you, given the circumstances. My only excuse is
that I have never encountered such circumstances before.”
I quieted a little. It made sense that I couldn’t wake Pat if they had him under drugs.
Under Dr. Devereaux’s questions I managed to tell him more or less what had happened-not perfectly, because you can’t really tell someone else what goes on inside your head. “Uh, was the operation successful,
Doctor?”
“The patient came through in good shape. We’ll talk about it later. Now turn over.” “Huh?”
“Turn over. I want to take a look at your back.”
He looked at it, then called two of his staff to see it. Presently he touched me. “Does that hurt?” “Ouch! Uh, yes, it’s pretty tender. What’s wrong with my back, Doctor?”
“Nothing, really. But you’ve got two perfect stigmata, just matching the incisions for Macdougal’s operation … which is the technique they used on your brother.”
“Uh, what does that mean?”
“It means that the human mind is complicated and we don’t know much about it. Now roll over and go to sleep. I’m going to keep you in bed a couple of days.”
I didn’t intend to go to sleep but I did. I was awakened by Pat calling me. “Hey, Tom! Where are you? Snap out of it.”
(“I’m right here. What’s the matter?”) “Tom… I’ve got my legs back!”
I answered, (“Yeah, I know,”) and went back to sleep.
IX RELATIVES
Once Pat was over his paralysis I should have had the world by the tail, for I had everything I wanted. Somehow it did not work that way. Before he was hurt, I had known why I was down in the dumps: it was because
he was going and I wasn’t. After he was hurt, I felt guilty because I was getting
what I wanted through
his misfortune. It didn’t seem right to be happy when he was crippled-especially when his crippled condition had got me what I wanted.
So I should have been happy once he was well again.
Were you ever at a party where you were supposed to be having fun and suddenly you realized that you
weren’t? No reason, just no fun and the whole world gray and tasteless?
Some of the things that were putting me off my feed I could see. First there had been Dusty, but that had been cleared up. Then there had been the matter of other people, especially the electron pushers we stood watch with, calling us freaks and other names and acting as if we were. But the Captain had
tromped on that, too, and when we got better acquainted people forgot about such things. One of the relativists, Janet Meers, was a lightning calculator, which made her a freak, too, but everybody took it for granted in her and after a while they took what we did for granted.
After we got out of radio range of Earth the Captain took us out from under Commander Frick and set us up as a department of our own, with “Uncle” Alfred McNeil as head of department and Rupert Hauptman as his assistant-which meant that Rupe kept the watch list while Uncle Alf was in charge of our
mess table and sort of kept us in line. We liked old Unc too well to give him much trouble and if
somebody did get out of line Unc would look sad and the rest of us would slap the culprit down. It worked.
I think Dr. Devereaux recommended it to the Captain. The fact was that Commander Frick resented us.
He was an electrical engineer and had spent his whole life on better and better communication
equipment … then we came along and did it better and faster with no equipment at all. I don’t blame him; I would have been sore, too. But we got along better with Uncle Alf.
I suppose that the Vasco da Gama was part of my trouble. The worst thing about space travel is that absolutely nothing happens. Consequently the biggest event in our day was the morning paper. All day
long each mind reader on watch (when not busy with traffic, which wasn’t much) would copy news. We got the news services free and all the features and Dusty would dress it up by copying pictures sent by his twin Rusty. The communicator on the midwatch would edit it and the m-r and the communicator on
the early morning watch would print it and have it in the mess room by breakfast.
There was no limit to the amount of copy we could have; it was just a question of how much so few people could prepare. Besides Solar System news we carried ships’ news, not only of the Elsie but of
the
eleven others. Everybody (except myself) knew people in the other ships. Either they had met them at Zurich, or the old spacehands, like the Captain and a lot of others, had friends
and acquaintances
reaching back for years.
It was mostly social news, but we enjoyed it more than news from Earth and the System, because we felt closer to the ships in the fleet, even though they were billions of miles away and getting farther by
the
second. When Ray Gilberti and Sumire Watanabe got married in the Leif Ericsson, every ship in the fleet held a celebration. When a baby was born in the Pinta and our Captain was named godfather, it made us all proud.
We were hooked to the Vasco da Gama through Cas Warner, and Miss Gamma Furtney linked us with the Marco Polo and the Santa Maria through
her triplets Miss Alpha and Miss Beta, but we got news
from all the ships by pass-down-the-line. Fleet news was never cut, even if dirtside news had to be. As it was, Mama O’Toole complained that if the editions got any larger, she would either have to issue clean sheets and pillow cases only once a week or engineering would have to build her another laundry
just to wash newspapers. Nevertheless, the ecology department always had clean paper ready, freshly
pressed, for each edition.
We even put out an occasional extra, like the time Lucille LaVonne won “Miss Solar System” and Dusty did a pic of her so perfect you would have sworn it was a photograph. We lost some paper from that as quite a number of people kept their copies for pin-ups
instead of turning them back for reclamation-I did myself. I even got Dusty to autograph it. It startled him but pleased him even though
he was rude about
it-an artist is entitled to credit for his work, I say, even if
he is a poisonous
little squirt.
What I am trying in say is that the Elsie Times was the high point of each day and fleet news was the most important part of it.
I had not been on watch the night before; nevertheless, I was late for breakfast. When I hurried in,
everybody was busy with his copy of the Times
as
usual-but nobody was eating.
I sat down between Van and Prudence and said, “What’s the matter? What’s aching everybody?”
Pru silently handed me a copy of the Times.
The first page was bordered in black. There were oversize headlines: VASCO DA GAMA LOST I couldn’t believe it. The Vasco was headed out for Alpha Centauri but she wouldn’t get there for
another four years, Earth time; she wasn’t even close to the speed of light. There was nothing to have may trouble with, out where she was. It must be a mistake.
I turned to see-story-on-page-two. There was a boxed dispatch from the Commodore in the Santa Maria: “(Official) At 0334 today Greenwich time TS Vasco da Gama (LRF 172) fell out of contact.
Two
special circuits were operating at the time, one Earthside and one to the Magellan. In both cases
transmission ceased without
warning in midst of message and at the same apparent instant by adjusted
times. The ship contained eleven special communicators; it has not proved possible to raise any of them. It must therefore be assumed that the ship is lost, with no survivors.”
The LRF dispatch merely admitted that the ship was out of contact. There was a statement by our
Captain and a longer news story which included comments from other ships; I read them but the whole story was in the headlines … the Vasco was gone wherever it is that ships go when they don’t come back.
I suddenly realized something and looked up. Cas Warner’s chair was empty. Uncle All caught my eye and said quietly, “He knows, Tom. The Captain woke him and told him soon after it happened. The only good thing about it is that he wasn’t linked with his brother when it happened.”
I wasn’t sure that Uncle Alf had the right slant. If Pat got it, I’d want to be with him when it happened,
wouldn’t I? Well, I thought I would. In any case I was sure that Unc would want to be holding Sugar
Pie’s hand if something happened and she had to make the big jump before he did. And Cas and his brother Caleb were close; I knew that.
Later that day the Captain held memorial services and Uncle Alfred preached a short sermon and we all sang the “Prayer for Travelers.” After that we pretended that there never had been a ship named the Vasco da Gama, but it was all pretense.
Cas moved from our table and Mama O’Toole put him to work as an assistant to her. Cas and his brother had been hotel men before LRF tapped them and Cas could be a lot of help to her; keeping a
ship with two hundred people in it in ecological balance is no small job. Goodness, just raising food for
two
hundred people would be a big job even if it did not have to be managed so as to maintain
atmospheric balance; just managing the yeast cultures and the hydroponics took all the time of nine people.
After a few weeks Cas was supervising entering and housekeeping and Mama O’Toole could give all of her time to the scientific and technical end-except that she continued to keep an eye on the cooking.
But the Vasco da Gama should not have made me brood;
I didn’t know anybody in that ship. If Cas
could pull out of it and lead a normal, useful life, I certainly should not have had the mulligrubs.
No, I think it was my birthday as much as anything.
The mess room had two big electric clocks in it, controlled from the relativists’ computation room, and two bank-style calendars over them. When we started out they were all right together, showing
Greenwich time and date. Then, as we continued to accelerate and our speed got closer to that of light,
the
“slippage” between Elsie and the Earth began to show and they got farther and farther out of phase.
At first we talked about it, but presently we didn’t notice the Greenwich set… for what good does it do
you
to know that it is now three in the morning next Wednesday at Greenwich when it is lunch time in
the
ship? It was like time zones and the date line back on Earth: not ordinarily important. I didn’t even notice when Pat groused about the odd times
of day he had to be on duty because I stood watches any time of day myself.
Consequently I was caught flat-footed when Pat woke me with a whistle in the middle of the night and shouted, “Happy birthday!”
(“Huh? Whose?”)
“Yours, dopey. Ours. What’s the matter with you? Can’t you count?” (“But-”)
“Hold it. They are just bringing the cake in and they are going to sing “Happy Birthday.” I’ll echo it for you.”
While they were doing so I got up and slipped on a pair of pants and went down to the mess room. It was the middle of “night” for us and there was just a standing light here. But I could see the clocks and calendars-sure
enough, the Greenwich date was our birthday and figuring back zone time from Greenwich to home made it about dinner time at home.
But it wasn’t my birthday. I was on the other schedule and it didn’t seem right.
“Blew ‘em all out, kid,” Pat announced happily, “That ought to hold us for another year. Mum wants to
know if they baked a cake for you there?”
(“Tell her ‘yes.’ “) They hadn’t, of course. But I didn’t feel like explaining. Mother got jittery easily
enough without trying to explain Einstein time to her. As for Pat, he ought
to know better.
The folks had given Pat a new watch and he told me that there was a box of chocolates addressed to me-should he open it and pass it around? I told him to go ahead, not knowing whether to be grateful that I was remembered or to be annoyed at a “present” I couldn’t possibly see or touch. After
a while I told Pat that I had to get my sleep and please say good night and thank you to everybody for me. But I
didn’t get to sleep; I lay awake until the passageway lights came on,
The following week they did have a birthday cake for me at our table and everybody sang to me and I got a lot of pleasantly intended but useless presents-you can’t give a person
much aboard ship when
you
are eating at the same mess and drawing from the same storerooms. I stood up and thanked them when somebody hollered “Speech!” and I stayed and danced with the girls afterwards. Nevertheless it
still did not seem like my birthday because it had already been my birthday, days earlier.
It was maybe the next day that my Uncle Steve came around and dug me out of my room. “Where you been keeping yourself, youngster?”
“Huh? Nowhere.”
“That’s what I thought.” He settled in my chair and I lay back down on my bunk. “Every time I look
for you, you aren’t in sight. You aren’t on watch or working all the time. Where are you?”
I didn’t say anything. I had been right where I was a lot of the time, just staring at the ceiling. Uncle Steve went on, “When a man takes to crouching in a corner aboard ship, it is usually best, I’ve found, to let him be. Either he will pull out of it by himself, or he’ll go out the airlock one day without bothering with a pressure suit. Either way, he doesn’t want to be monkeyed with. But you’re my sister’s
boy
and I’ve got a responsibility toward you. What’s
wrong? You never show up for fun and games in the evenings and you go around with a long face; what’s eating you?”
“There’s nothing wrong with me!” I said angrily.
Uncle Steve disposed of that with a monosyllable. “Open up, kid. You haven’t been right since the Vasco was lost. Is that the trouble? Is your nerve slipping? If it is, Doc Devereaux has synthetic courage in pills. Nobody need know you take ‘em and no need to be ashamed-everybody finds a crack in his nerve now and again. I’d hate to tell you what a repulsive form it took the first time I went into
action.”
“No, I don’t think that is it.” I thought about it-maybe it was it. “Uncle Steve, what happened to the Vasco?”
He shrugged. “Either her torch cut loose, or they bumped into something.”
“But a torch can’t cut loose… can it? And there is nothing to bump into out here.”
“Correct on both counts. But suppose the torch did blow? The ship would be a pocket-sized nova in
an
umpteenth second. But I can’t think of an easier
way
to go. And the other way would be about as
fast, near enough you would never notice. Did you ever think how much kinetic energy we have wrapped up in this bucket at this speed? Doc Babcock says that as we reach the speed of light we’ll be just a flat wave front, even though
we go happily along eating mashed potatoes and gravy and never
knowing the difference.”
“But we never quite reach the speed of light.”
“Doc pointed that out, too. I should have said ‘if.’ Is that what is bothering you, kid? Fretting that we might go boom! like the Vasco? If so, let me point out that almost all the ways of dying in bed are worse … particularly if you are silly enough to die of old age-a fate I hope to avoid.”
We talked a while longer but did not get anywhere. Then be left, after threatening to dig me out if I
spent more than normal sack time in my room. I suppose Uncle Steve reported me to Dr. Devereaux, although both of them claimed not.
Anyhow, Dr. Devereaux
tackled me the next day, took me around
to his room and sat me down and talked to me. He bad a big sloppy-comfortable stateroom; he never saw anybody in surgery.
I immediately wanted to know why he wanted to talk to me.
He opened his frog eyes wide and looked innocent. “Just happened to get around
to you, Tom.” He picked up a pile of punched cards. “See these? That’s how many people I’ve had a chat with this week. I’ve
got to pretend to earn my pay.”
“Well, you don’t have to waste time on me. I’m doing all right.”
“But I like to waste time, Tom. Psychology is a wonderful racket. You don’t scrub for surgery, you don’t have to stare down people’s dirty throats, you just sit and pretend to listen while somebody
explains that when he was a little boy he didn’t like to play with the other little boys. Now you talk for a
while. Tell me
anything you want to, while I take a nap. If you talk long enough,
I can get rested up
from
the poker party I sat in on last night and still chalk up a day’s work.”
I tried to talk and say nothing. While I was doing so, Pat called me. I told him to call hack; I was busy. Dr. Devereaux was watching my face and said suddenly, “What was on your mind then?”
I explained that it could wait; my twin wanted to talk to me.
“Hmm… Tom, tell me about your twin. I didn’t have time to get well acquainted with him in Zurich.” Before I knew it I had told him a lot about both of us. He was remarkably easy to talk to. Twice I
thought
he had gone to sleep but each time I stopped, he roused himself and asked another question that got me started all over again.
Finally he said, “You know, Tom, identical twins are exceptionally interesting to psychologists-not to mention geneticists, sociologists, and biochemists. You start out from the same egg, as near alike as two organic complexes can be. Then you become two different people. Are the differences environmental? Or is there something else at work?”
I thought about this. “You mean the soul, Doctor?”
“Mmm … ask me next Wednesday. One sometimes holds personal and private views somewhat different from one’s public and scientific opinions. Never mind. The point is that you m-r twins are interesting. I fancy that the serendipitous results of Project Lebensraum will, as usual, be far greater than the intended results.”
“The “Sarah” what, Doctor?”
“Eh? ‘Serendipitous.’
The Adjective for ‘Serendipity.’ Serendipity means that you dig for worms and strike gold. Happens all the time in science. It is the reason why ‘useless’ pure research is always so
much more practical than ‘practical’ work.
But let’s talk about you. I can’t help you with your problems-you have to do that yourself. But let’s kick it around and pretend
that I can, so as to justify my being on the payroll. Now two things stick out like a sore thumb: the first is that you don’t like your brother.”
I started to protest but he brushed it aside. “Let me talk. Why are you sure that I am wrong? Answer: because you have been told from birth that you love him. Siblings always `love’ each other; that is a foundation of our civilization like Mom’s apple pie. People usually believe anything that they are told early and often. Probably a good thing they believe this one, because brothers and sisters often have more opportunity and more reason to hate each other than anyone else.”
“But I like Pat. It’s just-”
“ ‘It’s just’ what?” he insisted gently when I did not finish.
I did not answer and he went on, “It is just that you have every reason to dislike him. He has bossed you and bullied you and grabbed what he wanted. When he could not get it by a straight fight, he used your mother to work on your father to make it come his way. He even got the girl you wanted. Why
should you like him? If a man were no relation-instead of being your twin brother-would you like him for doing those things to you? Or would you hate him?”
I didn’t relish the taste of it. “I wasn’t being fair
to
him, Doctor. I don’t think Pat knew he was hogging
things … and I’m sure our parents never meant to play favorites. Maybe I’m just feeling sorry for myself.”
“Maybe you are. Maybe there isn’t a word of truth in it and you are constitutionally unable to see what’s fair when you yourself are involved. But the point is that this is the way you do feel about it … and you certainly would not like such a person-except that he is your twin brother, so of course
you must ‘love’ him. The two ideas fight each other. So you will continue to be stirred up inside until you
figure out which one is false and get rid of it. That’s up to you.”
“But… doggone
it, Doctor, I do like Pat!”
“Do you? Then you had better dig out of your mind the notion that he has been handing you the dirty
end
of the stick
all these years. But I doubt if you do. You’re fond of him-we’re
all fond of things we are used to, old shoes, old pipes, even the devil we know is better than a strange devil. You’re loyal to him. He’s necessary to you and you are necessary to him. But ‘like’ him? It seems most improbable. On
the
other hand, if you could get it through your head that there is no longer any need to ‘love’ him, nor
even to like him, then you might possibly get to like him a little for what he is. You’ll certainly grow
more tolerant of him, though
I doubt if you will ever like him much. He’s a rather unlikeable cuss.”
“That’s not true! Pat’s always been very popular.”
“Not with me. Mmm … Tom, I cheated. I know your brother better than I let on. Neither one of you is
very likeable, matter of fact, and you are very much alike. Don’t take offense. I can’t abide ‘nice’ people; ‘sweetness and light’ turns my stomach. I like ornery people with a good, hard core of self-
interest-a lucky thing, in view of my profession. You and your brother are about equally selfish, only he is more successful at it. By the way, he likes you.”
“Huh?”
“Yes. The way he would a dog that always came when called. He feels protective toward you, when it doesn’t conflict with his own interests. But he’s rather contemptuous of you; he considers you a weakling-and, in his book, the meek are not entitled to inherit the earth; that’s for chaps like himself.”
I chewed that over and began to get angry. I did not doubt that Pat felt that way about me-patronizing
and
willing to see to it that I got a piece of cake … provided that he got a bigger one.
“The other thing that stands out,” Dr. Devereaux went on, “is that neither you nor your brother wanted
to
go on this trip.”
This was so manifestly untrue and unfair that I opened my mouth and left it open. Dr. Devereaux looked at me. “Yes? You were about to say?”
“Why, that’s the silliest
thing I ever heard, Doctor! The only real trouble Pat and I ever had was because both of us wanted to go and only one of us could.”
He shook his head. “You’ve got it backwards. Both of you wanted to stay behind and only one of you could. Your brother won, as usual.”
“No, he didn’t… well, yes, he did, but the chance to go; not the other way around. And he would have,
too, if it hadn’t been for that accident.”
“ ‘That accident.’ Mmm … yes.” Dr. Devereaux held still, with his head dropped forward and his hands folded across
his belly, for so long that I thought
again that he was asleep. “Tom, I’m going to tell you something that is none of your business, because I think you need to know. I suggest that you never
discuss it with your twin … and if
you do, I’ll make you out a liar, net. Because
it would be bad for him. Understand me?”
“Then don’t tell me,” I said surlily.
“Shut up and listen.” He picked up a file folder. “Here is a report on your brother’s operation, written
in the talk we doctors use to confuse patients. You wouldn’t understand it and, anyhow, it was sent sidewise, through the Santa Maria and in code. You want to know what they found when they opened
your brother up?”
“Uh, not especially.”
“There was no damage to his spinal cord of any sort.”
“Huh? Are you trying to tell me that he was faking his legs being paralyzed? I don’t believe it!” “Easy, now. He wasn’t faking. His legs were paralyzed. He could not possibly fake paralysis so well
that a neurologist could not detect it. I examined him myself; your brother was paralyzed. But not from damage to his spinal cord-which I knew and the surgeons who operated on him knew.”
“But-” I shook my head. “I guess I’m stupid.”
“Aren’t we all? Tom, the human mind is not simple; it is very complex. Up at the top, the conscious
mind has its own ideas and desires, some of them real, some of them impressed on it by propaganda and training and the necessity for putting up a good front and cutting a fine figure to other people.
Down below is the unconscious mind, blind and deaf and stupid and sly, and with-usually-a different set of desires and very different motivations. It wants its own way … and when it doesn’t get it, it raises
a stink until it is satisfied. The trick in easy living is to find out what your unconscious mind really
wants and give it to it on the cheapest terms possible, before it sends you through
emotional bankruptcy
to
get its own way. You know what a psychotic is, Tom?”
“Uh… a crazy person.”
“Crazy’ is a word we’re trying to get rid of, A psychotic is a poor wretch who has had to sell out the shop and go naked to the world to satisfy the demands of his unconscious mind. He’s made a settlement, but it has ruined him. My job is to help people make settlements that won’t ruin them-like a good lawyer, We never try to get them to evade the settlement, just arrange it on the best terms.
“What I’m getting
at is this: your brother managed to make a settlement with his unconscious on fairly
good terms, very good terms considering that he did it without professional help. His conscious mind signed a contract and his unconscious said flatly that he must not carry it out. The conflict was so deep that it would have destroyed some people. But not your brother. His unconscious mind elected to have an accident instead, one that could cause paralysis and sure enough it did-real paralysis, mind you; no fakery. So your brother was honorably excused from an obligation he could not carry out. Then, when it was no longer possible to go on this trip; be was operated on. The surgery merely corrected minor
damage to the bones. But he was encouraged to think that his paralysis would go away-and so it did.” Devereaux shrugged.
I thought about it until I was confused. This conscious and unconscious stuff-I’d studied it and passed quizzes in it … but I didn’t take any stock in it. Doc Devereaux could talk figures
of speech until he was
blue in the face but it didn’t get around
the fact that both Pat and I had wanted to go and the only reason Pat had to stay behind was because be had hurt himself in that accident. Maybe the paralysis was hysterical, maybe be had scared himself into thinking he was hurt worse than he was. But that didn’t make any difference.
But Doc Devereaux talked as if the accident wasn’t an accident. Well, what of it? Maybe Pat was
scared green and had been too proud to show it-I still didn’t think he had taken a tumble on a mountainside on purpose.
In any case, Doc was dead wrong on one thing: I had wanted to go. Oh, maybe I had been a little scared and I knew I had been homesick at first-but that was only natural.
(“Then why are you so down in dumps, stupid?”)
That wasn’t Pat talking; that was me, talking to myself. Shucks, maybe it was my unconscious mind,
talking out loud for once, “Doc?”
“Yes, Tom.”
“You say I didn’t really want to come along?” “It looks that way.”
“But you said the unconscious mind always wins. You can’t have it both ways.”
He sighed. “That isn’t quite what I said. You were hurried into this. The unconscious is stupid and
often slow; yours did not have time to work up anything as easy as a skiing accident. But it is stubborn. It’s demanding that you go home … which you can’t. But it won’t listen to reason. It just keeps on
nagging you to give it the impossible, like a baby crying for the moon.”
I shrugged. “To hear you tell it, I’m in an impossible moss.”
“Don’t look so danged sourpuss! Mental hygiene is a process of correcting the correctable and adjusting to the inevitable. You’ve
got three choices.”
“I didn’t know I had any.”
“Three. You can keep on going into a spin until your mind builds up a fantasy acceptable to your unconscious…a
psychotic adjustment, what you would call ‘crazy.’ Or you can muddle along as you
are, unhappy and not much use to yourself or your shipmates…
and always with the possibility of
skidding over the line. Or you can dig into your own mind, get acquainted with it, find out what it really wants, show it what it can’t have and why, and strike a healthy bargain with it on the basis of what is possible. If you’ve got guts and gumption, you’ll try the last one. It won’t be easy.” He waited,
looking at me.
“Uh, I guess I’d better try. But how do I do it?”
“Not by moping in your room about might-have-beens, that’s sure.”
“My Uncle Steve-Major Lucas, I mean”-I said slowly, “told me I shouldn’t do that. He wants me to stir around and associate with other people. I guess I should.”
“Surely, surely. But that’s not enough. You can’t chin yourself out of the hole you are in just by
pretending to be the life of the party. You have to get acquainted with yourself.”
“Yes, sir. But how?”
“Well, we can’t do it by having you talk
about yourself every afternoon while I hold your hand. Mmm … I suggest that you try writing down who you are and where you’ve been and how you
got from there to here. You make it thorough enough and maybe you will begin to see ‘why’ as well as ‘how.’ Keep digging and you may find out who you are and what you want and
how
much of it you
can get.”
I must have looked baffled for he said, “Do you keep a diary?” “Sometimes. I’ve got one along.”
“Use it as an outline. ‘The Life and Times of T. P. Bartlett, Gent.’ Make it complete and try to tell the truth-all the truth.”
I thought that over. Some things you don’t want to tell anybody. “Uh, I suppose you’ll want to read it, Doctor?”
“Me? Heaven forbid! I get too little rest without
misguided people. This is for you, son; you’ll be writing
to yourself … only write it as if you didn’t know anything about yourself and had to explain everything. Write it as if you expected to lose your memory and wanted to be sure you could pick up the strings again. Put it all down.”
He frowned and added grudgingly, “If you feel that you have found
out something important and want a second opinion, I suppose I could squeeze in time to read part of it, at least. But I won’t promise. Just write it to yourself-to the one with amnesia.”
So I told him I would try… and I have. I can’t see that it has done any special good (I pulled out of the slump anyhow) and there just isn’t time to do the kind of job he told me
to
do. I’ve had to hurry over
the
last part of this because this is the first free evening I’ve had in a month.
But it’s amazing how much you can remember when you really try.
X RELATIONS
There have been a lot of changes around the Elsie. For one thing we are over the hump now and
backing down the other side, decelerating as fast as we boosted; we’ll be at Tau Ceti in about six
months, ship’s time.
But I am getting ahead of myself. It has been about a year, S-time, since I started this, and about twelve years, Earth time, since we left Earth. But forget E-time; it doesn’t mean anything. We’ve been thirteen months in the ship by S-time and a lot has happened. Pat getting married-no, that didn’t happen
in
the ship and it’s the wrong place to start.
Maybe the place to start is with another marriage, when Chet Travers married Mei-Ling Jones. It met with wide approval, except on the part of one of the engineers who was sweet on her himself. It caused
us freaks and the electron pushers to bury the hatchet to have one of us marry one of them, especially
when Commander Frick came down the aisle in the mess room with the bride on his arm, looking as proud
and solemn as if she had been his daughter. They were a good match; Chet was not yet thirty and
I figure that Mei-Ling is at least twenty-two.
But it resulted in a change in the watch list and Rupe put me on with Prudence Mathews.
I had always liked Pru without paying much attention to her. You had to look twice to know that she was pretty. But she had a way of looking up at you that made you feel important. Up to the time I
started standing watches with her I had more or less left the girls alone; I guess I was “being true to Maudie.” But by then I was writing this confession story for Doe Devereaux; somehow writing things
down gives them finality. I said to myself, “Why not? Tom, old boy, Maudie is as definitely out of your
life as if one of you were dead. But life goes on, right here in this bucket of wind.”
I didn’t do anything drastic; I just enjoyed Pru’s company as much as possible… which turned out to be a lot.
I’ve heard that when the animals
came aboard the Ark two by two, Noah separated them port and starboard. The Elsie isn’t run that way. Chet and Mei-Ling had found
it possible to get well enough
acquainted to want to make it permanent. A little less than half of the crew had come aboard as married
couples; the rest of us didn’t have any obstacles put in our way if we had such things on our minds.
But somehow without
its ever showing we were better chaperoned than is usual back dirtside. It didn’t seem organized … and yet it must have been. If somebody was saying good night a little too long in a passageway after the lights were dimmed, it would just happen that Uncle Alfred had to get up about then and shuffle down the passageway. Or maybe it would be Mama O’Toole, going to make herself a cup of chocolate “to help her get to sleep.”
Or it might be the Captain. I think he had eyes in the hack of his head for everything that went on in the ship. I’m convinced that Mama O’Toole had. Or maybe Unc was actually one of those hypothetical wide-range telepaths but was too polite and too shrewd to let anybody know it.
Or maybe Doe Devereaux had us all so well analyzed those punched cards of his that he always knew
which way the rabbit would jump and could send his dogs to head him off. I wouldn’t put it past him.
But it was always just enough
and not too much. Nobody objected to a kiss or two if somebody wanted to check on the taste; on the other hand we never
had
any of the scandals that pop up every now and then in almost any community. I’m sure we didn’t; you can’t keep such things quiet in a ship. But nobody seemed to see a little low-pressure lalligagging.
Certainly Pru and I never did anything that would arouse criticism.
Nevertheless we were taking up more and more of each other’s time, both on and off watch. I wasn’t serious, not in the sense of thinking about getting married; but I was serious in that it was becoming
important. She began to look at me privately and a bit possessively, or maybe our hands would touch in
passing over a stack of traffic and we could feel the sparks jump.
I felt fine and alive and I didn’t have time to write in these memoirs. I gained four pounds and I certainly wasn’t homesick.
Pru and I got in the habit of stopping off and raiding the pantry whenever we came off a night watch together. Mama O’Toole didn’t mind; she left it unlocked so that anyone who wanted a snack could find one-she said this was our home, not a jail. Pru and I would make a sandwich, or concoct a creative mess, and eat and talk before we turned in. It didn’t matter what we talked about; what mattered was the warm glow we shared.
We came off watch at midnight one night and the mess room was deserted; the poker players had
broken up early and there wasn’t even a late chess game. Pru and I went into the pantry and were just getting set to grill a yeast-cheese sandwich. The pantry is rather cramped; when Pru turned to switch on
the
small grill, she brushed against me:
I got a whiff of her nice, clean hair and something like fresh clover or violets. Then I put my arms
around her.
She didn’t make any fuss. She stopped dead for an instant, then she relaxed.
Girls are nice. They don’t have any bones and I think they must be about five degrees warmer than we are, even if fever thermometers don’t show it. I put my face down and she put her face up and closed her eyes and everything was wonderful
For maybe half a second she kissed me and I knew she was as much in
favor of it as I was, which is as
emphatic as I can put
it.
Then she had broken out of my arms like a wrestler and was standing pressed against the counter across from me and looking terribly upset. Well, so was I. She wasn’t looking at me; she was staring at nothing and seemed to be listening … so I knew; it was the expression she wore when she was linked- only she looked terribly unhappy too.
I said, “Pru! What’s the matter?”
She did not answer; she simply started to leave. She had taken a couple of steps toward the door when I reached out and grabbed her wrist. “Hey, are you mad at me?”
She twisted away, then seemed to realize that I was still there. “I’m sorry, Tom,” she said huskily. “My
sister is angry.”
I had never met Patience Mathews-and now I hardly wanted to. “Huh? Well, of all the silly ways to behave I-”
“My sister doesn’t like you, Tom,” she answered firmly, as if that explained everything. “Good night.” “But-”
“Good night, Tom.”
Pru was as nice as ever at breakfast but when she passed me the rolls the sparks didn’t jump, I wasn’t surprised when Rupe reshuffled the watch list that day but I did not ask why. Pru didn’t avoid me and she
would even dance with me when there was dancing, but the fire was out and neither of us tried to light it again.
A long time later I told Van about it. I got no sympathy.
“Think you’re the first one to get your finger mashed in the door? Pru is a sweet little trick, take it from Grandfather van Houten. But when Sir Galahad himself comes riding up on a white charger, he’s going to have to check with Patience before he can speak to Pru… and I’ll bet you the answer is ‘No!’
Pru is willing, in her sweet little half-witted way, but Patience won’t okay anything more cozy than
‘Pease Porridge Hot.’“
“I think it’s a shame. Mind you, it doesn’t matter to me now. But her sister is going to ruin her life.” “It’s her business. Myself, I reached a compromise with my twin years ago-we beat each other’s teeth
in and after
that we cooperated on a businesslike basis. Anyhow, how do you know that Pru isn’t doing
the
same to Patience? Maybe Pru started it.”
It didn’t sour me on girls, not even on girls who had twin sisters who were mind readers, but after that I enjoyed the company of all of them. But for a while I saw more of Unc. He liked to play dominoes, then when we had finished all even up for the evening he liked to talk about Sugar Pie-and to her, of course. He would look at his big photograph of her and so would I and the three of us would talk,
with Unc echoing for both of us. She really was a nice
little girl and it was a lot of fun to get to know a little six-year-old girl-it’s very quaint what they think about.
One night I was talking with them and looking at her picture, as always, when it occurred to me that time had passed and that Sugar Pie must have changed-they grow up fast at that age. I got a brilliant idea. “Unc, why don’t you have Sugar Pie mail a new photograph to Rusty Rhodes? Then he could
transmit it to Dusty and Dusty could draw you one as perfect as that one, only it would be up to date,
show you what she looks like now, huh? How about it, Sugar Pie? Isn’t that a good idea?”
“It isn’t necessary.”
I was looking at the picture and I nearly popped my fuses. For a moment it wasn’t the same picture. Oh,
it was the same merry little girl, but she was a little older, she was shy a front tooth, and her hair was different.
And she was alive. Not just a trukolor stereo, but alive. There’s a difference.
But when I blinked it was the same old picture.
I said hoarsely, “Unc, who said, ‘It isn’t necessary?’ You? Or Sugar Pie?” “Why, Sugar Pie did. I echoed,”
“Yes, Unc … but I didn’t hear you; I heard her.” Then I told him about the photograph.
He nodded. “Yes, that’s the way she looks.
She says to tell you that her tooth is coming in, however.” “Unc… there’s no way to get around it. For a moment I crowded in on your
private wave length.” I was
feeling shaky.
“I knew. So did Sugar
Pie. But you didn’t crowd in, son; a friend is always welcome.”
I was still trying to soak it in. The implications
were more mind-stretching, even, than when Pat and I
found out we could do it. But I didn’t know what they were yet. “Uh, Uric, do you suppose we could
do it again? Sugar Pie?”
“We can try.”
But it didn’t work…
unless I heard her voice as well as Unc’s when she said, “Good night, Tommie.” I
wasn’t sure.
After I got to bed I told Pat about it. He was interested after I convinced him that it really had
happened. “This is worth digging into, old son. I’d better record it. Doc Mabel will want to kick it around.”
(“Uh, wait until I check with Uncle Alf.”)
“Well, all right. I guess it is his baby … in more ways than one. Speaking of his baby, maybe I should go see her? With two of us at each end it might be easier to make it click again. Where does his niece live?”
(“Uh, Johannesburg.”)
“Mmm … that’s a far stretch down the road, but I’m sure the LRF would send me there if Doc Mabel got interested.”
(“Probably. But let me talk to Unc.”)
But Unc
talked to Dr. Devereaux first. They called me in and Doc wanted to try it again at once. He was as near excited as I ever saw him get. I said, “I’m willing, but I doubt
if we’ll got anywhere; we didn’t last night. I think that once was just a fluke.”
“Fluke, spook. If it can be done once, it can be done again, We’ve got to be clever enough to set up the proper conditions.”
He looked at me. “Any objection to a light dose of hypnosis?”
“Me? Why, no, sir. But I don’t hypnotize easily.”
“So? According to your record, Dr. Arnault found it not impossible. Just pretend I’m she.”
I almost laughed in his face. I look more like Cleopatra than he looks like pretty Dr. Arnault. But I agreed to go along with the gag.
“All either of you will need is a light trance to brush
distractions aside and make you receptive.”
I don’t know what a “light
trance” is supposed to feel like. I didn’t feel anything and I wasn’t asleep.
But I started hearing Sugar Pie again.
I
think Dr. Devereaux’s interest was purely scientific; any new fact about what makes people tick
could rouse him out of his chronic torpor. Uncle Alf suggested that Doc was anxious also to set up a new telepathic circuit, just in case. There was a hint in what Unc said that he realized that he himself would not last forever.
But there was a hint of more than that. Uncle Alf let me know very delicately that, if it should come to it, it was good to know that somebody he trusted would be keeping an eye on his baby. He didn’t quite say it, not that baldly, so I didn’t have to answer, or I would have choked up. It was just understood-and
it
was the finest compliment I ever received. I wasn’t sure I deserved it so I decided I would just have to manage to deserve it if I ever had to pay off.
I could “talk” to Uncle Alf now, of course, as well as to Sugar Pie. But I didn’t, except when all three of us were talking together; telepathy is an imposition when it isn’t necessary. I never called Sugar Pie by myself, either, save for a couple of test runs for Doc Devereaux’s benefit to establish that I could
reach her without Unc’s help. That took drugs; Unc would wake up from an ordinary sleep if anyone shouted on that “wave length.” But otherwise I left: her alone; I had no business crowding into a little girl’s mind unless she was ready and expecting company.
It was shortly after that that Pat got married.
XI SLIPPAGE
My relations with Pat got steadily better all during that first boost, after Dr. Devereaux took me in
hand. I found out, after I admitted that I despised and resented Pat, that I no longer did either
one. I cured him of bothering me unnecessarily by bothering him unnecessarily-he could shut off an alarm clock but he couldn’t shut off me. Then we worked out a live-and-let-live formula and got along better.
Presently I found myself looking forward to whatever time we had set for checking with each other and
I realized I liked him, not “again” but “at last,” for I had never felt that warm toward him before.
But even while we were getting closer we were falling apart; “slippage” was catching up with us. As
anyone can see from the relativity formulas, the relationship is not a straight-line one; it isn’t even noticeable at the beginning but it builds up like the dickens at the other end of the scale.
At three-quarters the speed of light he complained that I was drawling, while it seemed to me that he was starting to jabber. At nine-tenths of the speed of light it was close to two for one, but we knew what was wrong now and I talked fast and he talked slow.
At 99% of c, it was seven to one and all we could do to make ourselves understood. Later that day we fell out of touch entirely.
Everybody else was having the same trouble. Sure, telepathy is instantaneous, at least the trillions of
miles between us didn’t cause any lag, not even like the hesitation you get in telephoning from Earth to
Luna nor did the signal strength drop off. But brains are flesh and blood, and thinking takes time… and
our time rates were out of gear. I was thinking so slowly (from Pat’s viewpoint) that he could not slow
down and stay with me; as for him, I knew from time to time that he was trying to reach me but it was
just a squeal in the earphones so far as making sense was concerned.
Even Dusty Rhodes couldn’t make it. His twin couldn’t concentrate on a picture for the long hours
necessary to let Dusty “see” it.
It was upsetting, to say the least, to all of us. Hearing voices is all right, but not when you can’t tell what they are saying and can’t shut them off. Maybe some of the odd cases in psychiatry weren’t crazy at all; maybe the poor wretches were tuned in on a bad wave length.
Unc took it the worst at first and I sat with him all one evening while we both tried together. Then he suddenly regained his serenity; Sugar Pie was thinking about him; that he knew; so being, words weren’t really necessary.
Pru was the only one who flourished; she was out from under the thumb of her sister. She got really
kissed, probably for the first time in her life. No, not by me; I just happened to be wandering down for a drink at the scuttlebutt, then I backed away quietly and let the drink wait. No point in saying who it was, as it didn’t mean anything-I think Pru would have kissed the Captain at that point if he had held
still. Poor little Pru!
We resigned ourselves to having to wait until we slid back down closer into phase. We were still hooked ship-to-ship because the ships were accelerating to the same schedule, and there was much debate back and forth about the dilemma, one which apparently nobody had anticipated. In one way it was not important, since we would not have anything to report until we slowed down and started
checking the stars we were headed for, but in another way it was: the time the Elsie spent at the speed of
light (minus a gnat’s
whisker) was going to seem very short
to us-but it was going to be ten solid
years and a bit over to those back Earth side. As we learned later, Dr. Devereaux and his opposite numbers in the other ships and back in LRF were wondering bow many telepathic pairs they would
have still functioning (if any) after a lapse of years. They had reason to worry. It had already been
established that identical twins
were hardly ever telepairs if they had lived apart for years-that was the other reason why most of those picked were young; most twins are separated by adult life.
But up to then, we hadn’t been “separated” in Project Lebensraum. Sure, we were an unthinkable distance apart but each pair had been in daily linkage and in constant practice by being required to stand regular watches, even if there was nothing to send but the news.
But what would a few years of being out of touch do to rapport between telepartners?
This didn’t bother
me; I didn’t know about it. I got a sort of an answer
out of Mr. O’Toole which caused me to think that a couple of weeks of ship’s time would put us back close
enough in phase to make ourselves understood. In the meantime, no watches to stand so it wasn’t all bad. I went to bed and
tried to ignore
the squeals inside my head.
I was awakened by Pat.
“Tom … answer me, Tom. Can you hear me, Tom? An- (“Hey, Pat, I’m here!”) I was wide awake, out of bed and standing on the floor plates, so excited I could hardly talk.
“Tom!
Oh,
Tom! It’s good to hear you, boy-it’s
been two years since I was last able to raise you.” (“But-”) I started to argue, then shut up. It had been less than a week to me. But I would have to look
at the Greenwich calendar and a check with the computation office before I could even guess how long it had been for Pat.
“Let me talk,
Tom, 1 can’t keep this
up long. They’ve had me under deep hypnosis and drugs for the past six weeks and it has taken me this long to get in touch with you. They don’t dare keep me under much longer.”
(“You mean they’ve got you hypped right now?”)
“Of course, or I couldn’t talk to you at
all. Now-” His voice faded out for a second “Sorry. They had to stop to give me another shot and an intravenous feeding. Now listen and record this schedule: Van
Houten-” He reeled off precise Greenwich times and dates, to the second, for each of us, and faded out while I was reading them back. I caught a “So long” that went up in pitch, then there was silence.
I pulled on pants before I went to wake the Captain but I did not stop for shoes. Then everybody was up and all the daytime lights were turned on even though it was officially night and Mama O’Toole was making coffee and everybody was talking. The relativists were elbowing each other in the computation room and Janet Meers was working out ship’s time for Bernie van Houten’s appointment with his twin without bothering to put it through
the computer because he was first on the list.
Van failed to link with his brother and everybody got jittery and Janet Meers was in tears because somebody suggested that she had made a mistake in the relative times, working it in her head; But Dr. Babcock himself pushed her solution through the computer and checked her to nine decimals.
Then he announced in a chilly tone that he would thank everyone not to criticize his staff thereafter; that was his
privilege.
Gloria linked with her sister right after that and everybody felt better. The Captain sent a dispatch to
the
flagship through
Miss Gamma and got an answer back that two other
ships were back in contact, the Nautilus and the Cristoforo Colombo.
There was no more straggling up to relieve the watch and stopping to grab a bite as we passed the pantry. If the recomputed time said your opposite number would be ready to transmit at 3:17:06 and a short tick, ship’s time, you were waiting for him from three o’clock on and no nonsense, with the recorder rolling and the mike
in front of your lips. It was easy for us in the ship, but
each one of us
knew that his telepair
was
having to undergo both hypnosis and drastic drugging to stay with us at all-
Dr. Devereaux did not seem happy about it.
Nor was there any time for idle chit-chat, not with your twin having to chop maybe an hour out of his life for each word. You recorded what he sent, right the first time and no fumbles; then you transmitted
what the Captain had initialed. If that left a few moments to talk, all right. Usually it did not … which
was
how I got mixed up about Pat’s marriage.
You see, the two weeks bracketing our change-over from boost to deceleration, during which time we reached our peak speed, amounted to about ten years Earthside. That’s 250 to 1 on the average. But it wasn’t all average; at the middle of that period the slippage was much greater, I asked Mr. O’Toole what the maximum was and he just shook his head. There was no way to measure
it, he told me, and the probable errors were larger than the infinitesimal values he was working with.
“Let’s put it this way,” he finished. “I’m glad there is no hay fever in this ship, because one hard sneeze would push us over the edge.”
He was joking, for, as Janet Meers pointed out, as our speed approached the speed of light, our mass approached infinity.
But we fell out of phase again for a whole day.
At the end of one of those peak “watches” (they were never more than a couple of minutes long, S-
time) Pat told me that he and Maudie were going to get married. Then he was gone before I could congratulate him. I started to tell him that I thought Maudie was a little young and wasn’t he rushing things and missed my chance. He was off our band.
I was not exactly jealous.
I examined myself and decided that I was not when I found
out that I could
not remember what Maudie looked like. Oh, I knew what she looked like-blonde, and a little snub nose with a tendency to get freckles across it in the summertime. But I couldn’t call up her face the way I could Pru’s face, or Janet’s. All I felt was a little left out of things.
I did remember to check on the Greenwich, getting Janet to relate it back to the exact time of my last watch. Then I saw that I bad been foolish to criticize. Pat was twenty-three and Maudie was twenty- one, almost twenty-two.
I did manage to say, “Congratulations,” on my next linkage but Pat did not have a chance to answer.
Instead he answered on the next. “Thanks for the congratulations. We’ve named her after Mother but I
think she is going to look like Maudie.”
This flabbergasted me. I had to ask for Janet’s help again and found that everything was all right-I mean, when a couple has been married two years a baby girl is hardly a surprise, is it? Except to me.
All in all, I had to make quite a few readjustments those two weeks. At the beginning Pat and I were the same age, except for an inconsequential slippage. At the end of that period (I figure the end as being
the
time when it was no longer necessary to use extreme measures to let us telepairs
talk) my twin was
more than eleven years older than I was and had a daughter seven years old.
I stopped thinking about Maudie as a girl, certainly not as one I had been sweet on. I decided that she was probably getting fat and sloppy and very, very domestic-she never could resist that second
chocolate éclair. As a matter of fact; Pat and I had grown very far apart, for we had little in common
now.
The minor gossip of the ship, so important to me, bored him; on the other hand, I couldn’t get excited about his flexible construction units and penalty dates. We still telecommunicated satisfactorily
but it was like two strangers using a telephone. I was sorry, for I had grown to like him before he slipped away from me.
But I did want to see my niece. Knowing Sugar Pie had taught me that baby girls are more fun than
puppies and even cuter than kittens.
I remembered the idea I had had about Sugar Pie and braced Dusty on the subject.
He agreed to do it; Dusty can’t turn down a chance to show how well he can draw. Besides, he had mellowed, for him; he no longer snarled when you tried to pet him even though it might be years before he would learn to sit up and beg.
Dusty turned out a beautiful picture. All Baby Molly lacked was little wings to make her a cherub. I
could see a resemblance to myself-to her father, that is. “Dusty, this is a beautiful picture. Is it a good likeness?”
He bristled. “How should I know? But if there is a micron’s s difference, or a shade or tone off that you could pick up with a spectrophotometer, from the pic your brother mailed to my brother, I’ll eat it! But how do I know how the proud parents had the thing prettied up?”
“Sorry, sorry! It’s a swell picture. I wish there were some way I could pay you.” “Don’t stay awake nights; I’ll think of something. My services come high.”
I
took down my pic of Lucille LaVonne and put Molly in her
place. I didn’t throw away the one of Lucille, though.
It was a couple of months
later that I found
out that Dr. Devereaux had seen entirely different possibilities in my being able to use the “wave length” of Uncle Alf and Sugar Pie from the obvious ones I had seen. I had continued to talk with both of them, though not as often as I had at first. Sugar
Pie
was a young lady now, almost eighteen, in normal school at Witwatersrand and already started
practice teaching. Nobody but Unc and I called her “Sugar Pie” and the idea that I might someday substitute for Unc was forgotten-at the rate we were shifting around pretty soon she could bring me up.
But Doe Devereaux had not forgotten the matter. However the negotiations had been conducted by him with LRF without consulting me. Apparently Pat had been told to keep it to himself until they were ready to try it, for the first I knew of it was when I told him to stand by to record some routine traffic (we were back on regular watches by then). “Skip it, old son,” he said. “Pass the traffic to the next victim. You and I are going to try something fresh.”
(“What?”)
“LRF orders, all the way down from the top. Molly has an interim research contract all of her own, just like you and I had.”
(“Huh? She’s not a twin.”)
“Let me count her. No, there’s just one of her-though
she sometimes seems like an entire herd of wild
elephants. But she’s here, and she wants to say hello to Uncle Tom.”
(“Oh, fine. Hello, Molly.”) “Hello, Uncle Tom.”
I
almost jumped out of my skin. I had caught it right off, with no fumbling. (“Hey, who was that? Say
that again!”)
“Hello, Uncle Tom.” She giggled. “I’ve got a new hair bow.”
I gulped. (“I’ll bet you look mighty cute in it, honey. I wish I could see you. Pat! When did this happen?”)
“On and off, for the past ten weeks. It took some tough sessions with Dr. Mabel to make it
click. By the way, it took some tougher sessions with, uh, the former Miss Kouric before she would agree to let
us try it.”
“He means Mommy,” Molly told me in a conspirator’s whisper. “She didn’t like it. But I do, Uncle Tom. I think it’s nice.”
“I’ve got no privacy from either one of them,” Pat complained. “Look, Tom, this is just a test run and
I’m
signing off. I’ve got to get the terror back to her
mother.”
“She’s going to make me take a nap,” Molly agreed in a resigned voice, “and I’m too old for naps. Good-by, Uncle Tom. I love you.”
(“I love you, Molly.”)
I turned around
and Dr. Devereaux and the Captain were standing behind me, ears flapping. “How did
it
go?” Dr. Devereaux demanded, eagerly-for him.
I tried to keep my face straight. “Satisfactorily. Perfect reception.” …. “The kid, too?”
“Why, yes, sir. Did you expect something else?”
He let out a long breath. “Son, if you weren’t needed, I’d beat your brains out with an old phone list.” I think Baby Molly and I were the first secondary communication team in the fleet. We were not the
last. The LRF, proceeding on a hypothesis suggested by the case of Uncle Alfred and Sugar Pie,
assumed that it was possible to form a new team where the potential new member was very young and intimately associated with an adult member of an old team. It worked in some eases. In other cases it could not even be tried because
no child was available.
Pat and Maude had a second baby girl just before we reached the Tau Ceti system. Maudie put her foot down with respect to Lynette; she said two freaks in her
family were enough.
XII TAU CETI
By the time we were a few light-hours
from Tan Ceil we knew that we had not drawn a blank; by stereo and doppler-stereo Harry Gates had photographed half a dozen planets. Harry was not only
senior planetologist; he was boss of the research department. I suppose he had enough degrees to string like beads, but I called him “Harry” because everybody did. He was not the sort you call “Doctor”; he was eager and seemed younger than he was.
To Harry the universe was a complicated toy somebody had given him; he wanted to take it apart and see what made it go. He was delighted with it and willing to discuss it with anybody at any time. I got acquainted with him in the bottle-washing business because Harry didn’t treat lab assistants like robots; he treated them like people and did not mind that he knew so much more than they did-he even seemed
to
think that he could learn something from them.
How he found time to marry Barbara Kuiper I don’t know, but Barbara was a torch watchstander, so it probably started as a discussion of physics and drifted over into biology and sociology;
Harry was interested in everything. But he didn’t find time to he around the night their first baby was born, as that was the night he photographed the planet he named Constance, after the baby. There was objection to
this, because everybody wanted to name it, but the Captain decided that the ancient rule applied: finders of astronomical objects were entitled to name them.
Finding Constance was not an accident. (I mean the planet, not the baby; the baby wasn’t lost.) Harry wanted a planet about fifty to fifty-one million miles from Tau, or perhaps I should say that the LRF wanted one of that distance. You see, while Tau Ceti is a close relative of the Sun, by spectral types,
Tau is smaller and gives off only about three-tenths as much sunshine-so, by the same old tired inverse square law you use to plan the lights for a living room or to arrange a photoflash picture, a planet fifty
million miles from Tau would catch the same amount of sunlight as a planet ninety-three million miles
from
Sol, which is where Earth sits. We weren’t looking for just any planet, or we would have stayed
home in the Solar System; we wanted a reasonable facsimile of Earth or it would not he worth
colonizing.
If you go up on your roof on a dear night, the stars look so plentiful you would think that planets very much like Earth must he as common as eggs in a hen yard. Well, they are: Harry estimates that there arc between a hundred thousand and a hundred million of them in our own Milky Way-and you can multiply that figure by anything you like for the whole universe.
The hitch is that they aren’t conveniently at hand. Tau Ceti was only eleven light-years from Earth; most stars in our own Galaxy average more like fifty thousand light-years from Earth. Even the Long
Range Foundation did not think in those terms; unless a star was within a hundred light-years or so it was silly to think of colonizing it even with torchships. Sure, a torchship can go as far as necessary,
even across the Galaxy-but who is going to he interested in receiving its real estate reports after a couple of ice ages have come and gone? The population problem would he solved one way or another
long before then … maybe the way the Kilkenny cats solved theirs.
But there are only fifteen-hundred-odd stars within a hundred light-years of Earth and only about a hundred and sixty of these are of the same general spectral type as the Sun. Project Lebensraum hoped to check not more than half of these, say seventy-five at the outside-less since we had lost the Vasco da Gama.
If even one real Earth-type planet was turned up in the search, the project would pay off. But there was no certainty that it would. A Sol-type star might not have an Earth-type planet; a planet might be too
close to the fire, or too far, or too small to hold an atmosphere, or too heavy for humanity’s fallen arches, or just too short
on the H20 that figures into everything we do.
Or it might be populated by some rough characters with notions about finders-keepers.
The Vasco da Gama had had the best chance to find the first Earth-type planet as the star she had been
beading for, Alpha Centauri Able, is the only star in this part of the world which really is a twin of the Sun. (Able’s companion, Alpha Centauri Baker, is a different sort, spectral type K.) We had the next best chance, even though Tau Ceti is less like the Sun than is Alpha Centauri-B, for the next closest G- type is about thirteen light years from Earth … which gave us a two-year edge over the Magellan and nearly four over the Nautilus.
Provided we found anything, that is. You can imagine how jubilant we were when Tau Ceti turned out to have pay dirt.
Harry was jubilant, too, but fur the wrong reasons. I had wandered into the observatory, hoping to get a sight of the sky-one of the Elsie’s shortcomings was that it was almost impossible to see out-when he grabbed me and said, “Look at this, pal!”
I looked at it. It was a sheet of paper with figures on it; it could have been Mama O’Toole’s crop- rotation schedule.
“What is it?”
“Can’t you read? It’s Bodes Law, that’s what it is!”
I thought back. Let me see…no, that was Ohm’s Law-then I remembered; Bode’s Law was a simple geometrical progression that described the distances of the Solar planets from the Sun. Nobody had ever been able to find a reason for it and it didn’t work well in some cases, though
I seemed to remember that Neptune, or maybe Pluto, had been discovered by calculations that made use of it. It looked like an accidental relationship.
“What of it?” I asked.
“‘What of it?’ the man says! Good grief! This is the most important thing since Newton got conked with the apple.”
“Maybe so, Harry, but I m a little slow today. I thought Bode’s Law was just an accident. Why couldn’t it be an accident here, too?”
“Accident! Look, Tom, if you roll a seven once, that’s an accident. When you roll a seven eight hundred times in a row, somebody has loaded the dice.”
“But this is only twice.”
“It’s not the same thing. Get me a big enough
sheet of paper
and
I’ll write down the number of zeros it takes to describe how unlikely this ‘accident’ is.” He looked thoughtful. “Tommie, old friend, this is
going to be the key that unlocks how planets are made. They’ll bury us right alongside Galileo for this.
Mmm … Tom, we can’t afford to spend much time in this neighborhood; we’ve got to get out and take a look at the Beta Hydri system and make sure it checks the same way-just to convince the mossbacks
back Earthside, for it will, it will! I gotta go tell the Captain we’ll have to change the schedule.” He stuffed the paper in a pocket and hurried away. I looked around
but the anti-radiation shutters were over the observatory ports; I didn’t get to see out.
Naturally the Captain did not change the schedule; we were out there looking for farm land, not trying to unscrew the inscrutable. A few weeks later we were in orbit around
Constance. It put us into free-fall for the first time during the trip, for we had not even been so during acceleration-deceleration change-
over but had done it in a skew path instead; chief engineers don’t like to shut a torch down unless there is time for an overhaul before starting up again-there was the case of the Peter the Great who shut hers
off,
couldn’t light up again, and fell into the Sun.
I didn’t like free-fall. But it’s all right if you don’t overload your stomach.
Harry did not seem disappointed. He had a whole new planet to play with, so he tabled Bode’s Law
and
got busy. We stayed in orbit, a thousand miles up, while research found out everything possible about Connie without actually touching it: direct visual search, radiation survey, absorption-spectra of her atmosphere. She had two moons, one a nice size, though smaller than Luna, so they were able to measure her surface gravity exactly.
She certainly looked like a home away from home. Commander Frick had his boys and girls set up a relay tank in the mess room, with color and exaggerated stereo, so that we all could see. Connie looked like the pictures they show of Earth from space stations, green and blue and brown and half covered with clouds and wearing polar ice like skullcaps. Her air pressure was lower than ours but her oxygen
ratio was higher; we could breathe it. Absorption spectra showed higher carbon
dioxide but not as high as Earth had during the Coal Age.
She was smaller but had a little more land area than Earth; her oceans were smaller. Every dispatch
back to Earth carried good news and I even managed to get Pat’s mind off his profit-and-loss for a while … he had incorporated us as “Bartlett Brothers, Inc.” and seemed to expect me to be interested in the bookkeeping simply because my accumulated LRF salary had gone into the capitalization. Shucks,
I hadn’t touched money for so long I had forgotten anybody used the stuff.
Naturally our first effort was to find out if anybody was already in occupation … intelligent animal life I mean, capable of using tools, building things, and organizing. If there was, we were under orders to
scoot out of there without
landing, find fuel somewhere else in that system, and let a later party attempt to set up friendly relations; the LRF did not want to repeat the horrible mistake that had been made with Mars.
But the electro-magnetic spectrum showed nothing at all, from gamma radiation
right up to the longest radio wavelengths. If there were people down there, they didn’t use radio and they didn’t show city
lights and they didn’t have atomic power. Nor did they have aircraft, nor roads, nor traffic on the surface of their oceans, nor anything that looked like cities. So we moved down just outside the atmosphere in an “orange slice” pole-to-pole orbit that let us patrol the whole surface, a new sector
each half turn.
Then we searched visually, by photography, and by radar. We didn’t miss anything more conspicuous than a beaver dam, I’m sure. No cities, no houses, no roads, no bridges, no ships, nobody home; Oh,
animals, surely-we could see herds gazing on the plains and we got lesser glimpses of other things. But it looked like a squatter’s paradise.
The Captain sent a dispatch: “I am preparing to land.”
I promptly volunteered for the reconnaissance party. First I braced my uncle Major Lucas to let me join his guard. He told me to go roll my hoop. “If you think I have any use for an untrained recruit,
you’re crazier
than you apparently think I am. If you wanted to soldier, you should have thought of it as soon
as we torched off.”
“But you’ve got men from all the departments in your guard.”
“Every one of ‘em trained soldiers. Seriously, Tom, I can’t afford it. I need men who will protect me; not somebody so green I’ll have to protect him. Sorry.”
So I tackled Harry Gates
to
let me join the scientific party the ship’s
guard would protect. He said, “Certainly, why not? Plenty of dirty work that my gang of prima donnas won’t want to do. You can
start by checking this inventory.”
So I checked while he counted. Presently he said, “How does it feel to be a little green man in a flying saucer?”
“What?”
“An oofoe. We’re an oofoe, do you realize that?”
I finally understood him-an U.F.O., an “unidentified flying object.” There were accounts of the U.F.O.
hysteria in all the histories of space flight. “I suppose
we are an U.F.O., sort of.”
“It’s exactly what we are. The U.F.O.’s were survey ships, just as we are. They looked us over, didn’t like what they saw, and went away. If they hadn’t found Earth crawling with hostile natives, they would have landed and set up housekeeping, just as we are going to do.”
“Harry, do you really believe the U.F.O.’s were anything but imagination or mistakes in reporting? I
thought that theory was exploded long ago.”
“Take another look at the evidence, Tom. There was something going on up in our sky shortly before we took up space jumping ourselves. Sure, most of the reports were phonies. But some weren’t. You
have to believe evidence when you have it in front of you, or else the universe is just too fantastic. Surely you don’t think that human beings are the only ones who ever built star ships?”
“Well … maybe not. But if somebody else has, why haven’t they visited us long ago?”
“Simple arithmetic, pal; it’s a big universe and we’re just one small corner of it. Or maybe they did. That’s my own notion; they surveyed us and Earth wasn’t what they wanted-maybe us, maybe the climate. So the U.F.O.’s went away.” He considered it. “Maybe they landed just long enough to fuel.”
That was all I got out of my tenure as a member of the scientific party; when Harry submitted my name an his list, the Captain drew a line through
it. “No special communicators will leave the ship.”
That settled it; the Captain had a will of iron. Van got to go, as his brother had been killed in an accident while we were at peak-so I called Pat and told him about Van and suggested that Pat drop dead. He didn’t see anything funny in it.
The Elsie landed in ocean comfortably deep, then they used the auxiliaries to bring her close to the shore. She floated high out of the water, as two-thirds of her tanks were empty, burned up, the water
completely disintegrated in boosting us first up to the speed of light, then backing us down again. The engineers were already overhauling her torch before we reached final anchorage. So far as I know, none of them volunteered for the landing party; I think that to most of the engineers the stop on Constance was just a chance to pick up more boost mass and take care of repairs and overhauls they had been
unable to do while underway. They didn’t care where they were or where they were going so long as the torch worked and all the machinery ticked. Dr. Devereaux told me that the Staff Metallurgist had
been out to Pluto six times and had never set foot on any planet but Earth.
“Is that normal?” I asked, thinking how fussy Doc had been about everybody else, including me.
“For his breed of cat,
it’s robust mental health. Any other breed I would lock up and feed through the
keyhole.”
Sam Rojas was as annoyed as I was at the discrimination against us telepaths; he had counted on
planting his feet on strange soil, like Balboa and Columbus and Lundy. He came around to see me about it. “Tom, are you going to stand for it?”
“Well, I don’t want to-but what can we do?
“I’ve been talking to some of the others. It’s simple. We don’t.” “We don’t what?”
“Mmm … we just don’t. Tom, ever since we slowed down, I’ve detected a falling off in my telepathic ability. It seems to be affecting all of us-those I’ve talked to. How about yourself?”
“Why, I haven’t-”
“Think hard,” he interrupted. “Surely you’ve noticed it. Why, I doubt if I could raise my twin right now. It must have something to do with where we are … maybe there is something odd about the radiation of Tau Ceti, or something. Or maybe it comes from Connie. Who knows? And, for that matter,
who can check on us?”
I began to get the pattern. I didn’t answer, because it was a tempting idea.
“If we can’t communicate,” he went on, “we ought to be useful for something else … like the landing
party, for instance. Once we are out of range of this mysterious influence probably we would be able to
make our reports back to Earth all right. Or maybe it would turn out that some of the girls
who
didn’t want to go with the landing party could manage to get in touch with Earth and carry the reports …
provided us freaks weren’t discriminated against.”
“It’s an idea,” I admitted.
“Think about it. You’ll find your special talent getting weaker and weaker. Me, I’m stone deaf already.” He went away.
I toyed with the idea. I knew the Captain would recognize a strike when he saw one … but what could he do? Call us all liars and hang us by our thumbs until we gave in? How could he be certain that we hadn’t all gone sour as m-r’s? The answer was that he could not be certain; nobody but a mind reader
knows what it feels like, nobody but the mind reader himself can tell that he is doing it. When we slipped out of contact at peak he hadn’t doubted us, he had just accepted it. He would have to accept it now, no matter what he thought.
For he had to have us; we were indispensable.
Dad used to he arbitration representative in his guild local; I remembered his saying once that the only
strike worth calling was one in which the workers were so badly needed that the strike would be won before a walkout. That was the pinch we had the Captain in; he had to have us. No strikebreakers closer than eleven light-years. He wouldn’t dare get rough with us.
Except that any one of us could break the strike. Let’s see-Van was out of it and so was Cas Warner; they were no longer telepaired, their twins were dead. Pru’s sister Patience was still alive, but that telepair had never been mended after peak-her sister had refused the risky drugs and hypnosis routine and they never got back into rapport. Miss Gamma did not count, because the ships her two sisters were in were still peaking, so we were cut off from sidewise relay back to Earth until one of them decelerated. Not counting Sam and myself, whom did that leave? And could they be counted on? There was Rupe, Gloria, Anna, and Dusty … and Unc of course. And Mei-Ling.
Yes, they were solid. Making us feel that we were freaks when we first came aboard had consolidated us,
Even if one or two didn’t feel right about it, nobody would let the others down. Not even Mei-Ling
who was married to an outsider. It would work. If Sam could line them up.
I wanted to go dirtside the worst way…and maybe this was the worst way, but I still wanted to.
Just the same, there was something sneaky about it, like a kid spending his Sunday School collection
money.
Sam had until noon the next day to get it lined up, because we were down to one watch a day. A continuous communication watch was not necessary and them was more ship’s work to do now that we were getting ready to explore. I tabled the matter and went down to tag the rats that would he used by the scientific survey.
But I did not have to wait until the following day;
Unc
called us together that evening and we crowded
into his room-all but Miss Gamma and Van and Pru and Cas. Unc looked around, looking horse-faced
and
sad, and said he was sorry we couldn’t all sit down but he wouldn’t keep us long. Then he started a meandering speech about how he thought
of us all as his children and he had grown to love us and we would always be his children, no matter what. Then he started talking about the dignity of being a human being.
“A man pays his bills, keeps himself
clean, respects other people, and keeps his word.
He gets no credit for this; he has to do this much just to stay even with himself. A ticket to heaven comes higher.”
He paused and added, “Especially he keeps his promises.” He looked around
and added, “That’s all I had to say. Oh, I might as well make one announcement while we are here. Rupe has had to shift the watch list around
a little bit.” He picked out Sam Rojas with his eyes. “Sam, I want you to take next watch, tomorrow noon. Will you do it?”
There wasn’t a sound for about three heart heats. Then Sam said slowly, “Why, I guess so, Unc, if you want me to.”
“I’d he much obliged, Sam. One way and another, I don’t want to put anybody else on that watch…and I wouldn’t feel like standing it myself if you couldn’t do it. I guess I would just have to tell the Captain
there wasn’t anybody available. So I’m pleased that you’ll do it.”
“Uh, why, sure, Unc. Don’t worry about it,” And that was the end of the strike.
Unc didn’t let us go quite yet. “I thought
I’d tell you about the change in the watch list while I had you
here and save Rupe from having to take it around to have you initial it. But I called you together
to
ask you about something else. The landing party will be leaving the ship before long. Nice as Constance looks,
I understand that it will he risky … diseases that we don’t know about; animals that might turn
out to he deadly in ways we didn’t expect, almost anything. It occurred to me that we might be able to
help. We could send one of us with the landing party and keep one of us on watch in the ship-and we could arrange for their telepairs to relay by telephone. That way we’d always be in touch with the landing party, even if
radios broke down or no matter what. It would be a lot of extra work and no glory…but it would be worth it if it saved the life of one shipmate.”
Sam said suddenly, “Who are you figuring on to go with the landing party, Unc?”
“Why, I don’t know. It isn’t expected of us and we don’t rate special-hazard pay, so I wouldn’t feel like ordering anybody-I doubt if the Captain would back me up. But I was hoping for enough
volunteers so that we could rotate the dirtside watch.” He blinked and looked unsure of himself. “But nobody is
expected to volunteer. I guess you had better let me know privately. “
He didn’t have to wait; we all volunteered. Even Mei-Ling did and then got mad and cried when Unc pointed out gently that she had better have her husband’s consent-which she wasn’t going to get; the Travers family was expecting a third.
Unc tackled the Captain the next morning. I wanted to hang around and hear the outcome but there was too much work to do. I was surprised, a half hour later, to be paged by speaker down
in the lab; I
washed my hands and hurried up to the Old Man’s cabin.
Unc was there, looking glum, and the Captain was looking stern. I tried to call Unc on the Sugar-Pie band, to find out where things stood, but for once he ignored me. The Captain looked at me coldly and said, “Bartlett, Mr. McNeil has proposed a plan whereby the people in your department want to help out
in the dirtside survey. I’ll tell you right off that I have turned it down. The offer is appreciated-but I have no more intention of risking people in your special category in such duty than I would approve of modifying the ship’s torch to sterilize the dinner dishes. First things first!”
He drummed on his desk. “Nevertheless,
the suggestion has merit. I won’t risk your whole department …but
I might risk one special communicator to increase the safeguards for the landing party. Now it occurred in me that we have one sidewise pair right in this ship, without having to relay through Earth. You and Mr. McNeil. Well? What have you to say?”
I started to say, “Sure!”-then thought
frantically. If I got to go after all that had happened, Sam was going to take a very dark view of it…and so was everybody. They might think I had framed it.
“Well? Speak up!”
Doggone, no matter what they thought, it wasn’t a thing you could refuse. “Captain, you know
perfectly well I volunteered for the landing party several days ago.”
“So you did. All right, I’ll take your
consent for granted. But you misunderstood me. You aren’t going; that will he Mr. McNeil’s job. You’ll stay here and keep in touch with him.”
I was so surprised that I almost missed the next thing the Captain said. I shot a remark to Unc privately: (“What’s this, Unc? Don’t you know that all of them will think you swindled them?”)
This time he answered me, distress in his voice: “I know it, son. He took me by surprise.” (“Well, what are you going to do?”)
“I don’t know. I’m wrong both ways.”
Sugar Pie suddenly cut in with, “Hey! What are you two fussing about?” Unc said gently:
“Go
away, honey. This is man talk.”
“Well!” But she didn’t interrupt again. Perhaps she listened.
The Captain was saying: “-in any doubly-manned position, we will never risk the younger when the older can serve.
That is standard and applies as much to Captain Urqhardt and myself as it does to any other two. The mission comes first. Bartlett, your expected usefulness is at least forty years longer than that of Mr.
McNeil. Therefore he must be preferred for a risk task. Very well, gentlemen. You’ll receive instructions later.”
(“Unc-what are you going to tell Sam? Maybe you agree-I don’t!”) “Don’t joggle my elbow, son.” He went on aloud: “No, Captain.”
The Captain stared. “Why, you old scoundrel! Are you that fond of your skin?”
Unc faced him right back. “It’s the only one I have, Captain. But that doesn’t have anything to do with
the
case. And maybe you were a little hasty in calling me names.”
“Eh?” The Captain turned red. “I’m sorry, McNeil. I take that back. But I think you owe me an explanation for your attitude.”
“I’m going to give it, sir. We’re old men, both of us. I can get along without setting foot on this planet
and so can you. But it looks different to young people. You know perfectly well that my people volunteered for the landing party not because they are angels, not scientists, not philanthropists…but because they are aching to go ashore. You know that; you told me as much, not ten minutes ago. If you
are
honest with yourself, you know that most of these children would never have signed up for this trip if they had suspected that they were to be locked up, never permitted to have what they call an
“adventure.’ They didn’t sign up for money; they signed up for the far horizons. Now you rob them of their reasonable expectations.”
The Captain looked grim. He clenched end unclenched a fist, then said, “There may be something in what you say. But I must make the decisions; I can’t delegate that. My decision stands. You go and Bartlett stays.”
I
said: (“Tell him he won’t get a darn’ message through!”)
Unc didn’t answer me. “I’m afraid not, Captain. This is a volunteer job…and I’m not volunteering.” The Captain said slowly, “I’m not sure that volunteering is necessary. My authority to define a man’s
duty is broad. I rather think you are refusing duty.”
“Not so; Captain. I didn’t say I wouldn’t take your orders; I just said I was not volunteering. But I’d
ask
for written orders, I think, and I would endorse
them: ‘Accepted under protest,’ and ask to have a copy transmitted to the Foundation.
I don’t volunteer.”
“But-confound
it, man! You volunteered with the rest. That’s what you came in here for. And I picked you.”
Unc shook his head. “Not quite, Captain. We volunteered as a group.
You turned us down as a group.
If I gave you the impression that I was volunteering, any other way, I am sorry … but that’s how it is. Now
if you will excuse me, sir, I’ll go back and tell my people you won’t have us.”
The Captain turned pink again. Then he suddenly started to roar with laughter. He jumped up and put his arm around
Unc’s narrow shoulders. “You old scoundrel! You are an old scoundrel, a mutinous
black-hearted scoundrel. You make me long for the days of bread-and-water and the rope’s end. Now sit back down and we’ll work this out. Bartlett, you can go,”
I left, reluctantly, and then stayed away from the other freaks because I didn’t want to answer
questions. But Unc was thoughtful; he called me, mind to mind, as soon as he was out of the Captain’s
cabin and told me the upshot. It was a compromise. He and I and Rupe and Sam would rotate, with the first trick (considered to be the most dangerous) to be his. The girls would take the shipside watch, with
Dusty classed with them because of age. But a bone was thrown
to them: once medicine and research
classed the planet as safe, they would be allowed sightseeing, one at a time. “I had to twist his arm on
that part,” Unc admitted, “but he agreed.”
Then it turned out to be an anticlimax; Connie was about as dangerous as Kansas. Before any human went outside the ship other than encased in a quarantine suit we exposed rats and canaries and hamsters
to
natural atmosphere; they loved it. When the first party went ashore, still in quarantine suits but breathing Connie’s air after it had passed through
electrostatic precipitators, two more experimental animals went with them-Bernhard van Houten and Percival the Pig.
Van had been down in the dumps ever
since his twin was killed; he volunteered and I think Dr.
Devereaux urged the Captain to let him. Somebody had to do it; you can make all the microscopic and
chemical tests you like-the day comes when a living man has to expose his. skin to a planet to find out if it is friendly. As Dr. Babcock says, eventually you must climb the tree. So Van went ashore without a quarantine suit, wearing shorts and shirt and shoes and looking like a scoutmaster.
Percival the Pig did not volunteer, but he thought it was a picnic. He was penned in natural bush and allowed to forage, eating anything from Connie’s soil that he thought
was fit to eat. A pig has advantages as an experimental animal; he eats anything, just as rats and men do, and I understand that his metabolism is much like ours-pigs even catch
many of the same diseases. If Percival prospered, it was almost certain that we would, particularly as Percy had not been given the inoculations that we had, not even the wide-spectrum G.A.R. serum which is supposed to give some protection even against diseases mankind has never encountered before.
Percy got fat, eating anything and drinking brook water, Van got a sunburn and then tanned. Both were healthy and the pioneer party took off their quarantine suits. Then almost everybody (even Percy) came down with a three-day fever and a touch of diarrhea, but everybody recovered and nobody caught it twice.
They rotated after that and all but Uncle Steve and Harry and certain ones whom they picked swapped with someone in the ship. Half of the second party were inoculated with serum made from the blood of
those who bad recovered from three-day fever; most of these did not catch it. But the ones who
returned were not allowed back in the ship at once; they were quarantined on a temporary deck rigged above the top bulge of the Elsie.
I don’t mean to say that the planet was just like a city park-you can get killed,
even in Kansas. There was a big, lizardlike carnivore who was no bargain. One of those got Lefty Gomez the first time our people ran into one and the beast would have killed at least two more if Lefty had been the kind of man who
insists on living forever. I would never have figured Lefty as a hero-he was assistant pastry cook
and
dry-stores keeper back in the ship-but Uncle Steve says that ultimate courage is the commonest human virtue and that seven out of ten are Medal of Honor men, given the circumstances.
Maybe so. I must be one of the other three. I don’t think I would have stood my ground and kept poking away at the thing’s eyes, armed only with a campfire spit.
But tyrannosaurus ceti was not dangerous enough
to give the planet a down check, once we knew he was there and what he was. Any big cat would have been much more dangerous, because cats are smart and he was stupid. You had to shoot first, but an explosive bullet made him lie down and be a rug. He had no real defense against men and someday men would exterminate him.
The shore party camped within sight of the ship on the edge of beautiful Babcock Bay, where we were anchored. The two helicopters patrolled each day, always together so that one could rescue the men in
the
other if it went down, and never more than a few hundred miles from base. Patrols on foot never
went more than ten miles from base; we weren’t trying to conquer the country, but simply trying to find out
if men could conquer and hold it. They could…at least around Babcock Bay…and where men can get a toe hold they usually hang on.
My turn did not come until the fourth rotation and by then they were even letting women go ashore; the worry part was over.
The oddest thing about being outdoors was the sensation of weather; I had been in air-conditioning for
two
years and I had forgotten rain and wind and sunshine in your face. Aboard the Elsie the engineer on watch used to cycle the temperature and humidity and ozone content on a random schedule, which
was
supposed to be good for our metabolisms. But it wasn’t weather; it was more like kissing your sister.
The first drop of rain I felt startled me; I didn’t know what it was. Then I was running up and down
and
dancing like a kid and trying to catch it in my mouth. It was rain, real rain and it was wonderful!
I couldn’t sleep that night. A breeze on my face and the sounds of others sleeping around me and the
distant noises of live things outside our snooper fences and the lack of perfect darkness all kept me awake. A ship is alive, too, and has its noises, but they are different from those outdoors; a planet is
alive in another way.
I got up quietly and tip-toed outside. In front of the men’s quarters about fifty feet away I could see the guardsman on watch. He did not notice me, as he had his head bent over dials and displays from the inner and outer fences and from the screen over us. I did not want to talk, so I went around behind the hut, out of sight of even the dim light from his instruments. Then I stopped and looked up.
It was the first good view of the sky I had had since we had left
Earth and the night was clear. I stood
there, dazzled and a little drunk from it.
Then I started trying to pick out constellations.
It was not hard; eleven light-years is just down the street for most stars. The Dipper was overhead,
looking a little more battered than it does from Earth but perfectly recognizable. Orion blazed near the horizon ahead of me but Procyon had moved over a long way and Sirius was not even in sight-skidded below the skyline, probably, for Sirius is even closer to the Earth than is Tau Ceti and our position
would shift him right across the sky. I tried to do a spherical triangle backwards in my head to figure where to look for Sirius and got dizzy and gave up.
Then I tried to find Sol. I knew where he would be, in Boötes, between Arcturus
and
Virgo-but I had to find Boötes, before I could look for Father Sol.
Boötes was behind me, as close to the skyline as Orion was on the other side. Arcturus had shifted a little and spoiled the club shape of Bootes but there was no doubt in my mind.
There it was! A yellow-white star, the color of Capella, but dimmer, about second magnitude, which was right, both position and magnitude. Besides, it had to be the Sun, because there hadn’t been any star that bright in that location when Pat and I were studying for our astrogation merit badge. It was the Sun.
I stared at it, in a thoughtful melancholy, warm rather than sad. I wondered what Pat was doing? Walking the baby, maybe. Or maybe not; I couldn’t remember what the Greenwich ought to be. There he was, thirty years old and a couple of kids, the best part of his life behind him… and here I was, just old enough
to be finishing my sophomore year in college if I were home.
No, I wouldn’t be; I’d be Pat’s age.
But I wasn’t thirty.
I
cheered up and decided that I had the best break after all, even if it had seemed not so good at first. I
sighed and walled
around a bit, not worrying, for not even one of those lizard brutes could get close to our
night defenses without bringing thunder and lightning down around his ears. If he had ears. Percy’s pen was not far in that rear direction; he heard me and came to his fence, so I walked up and scratched his snout. “Nice place, eh, boy?” I was thinking that when the Elsie did get home-and I no longer
believed Uncle Steve’s dire predictions-when I did get back, I would still be in my early twenties, just a good age to emigrate. And Connie looked like a fine place to come back to.
Percy answered with a snuffling grunt which I interpreted to mean: “You didn’t bring me anything to
eat? A fine way to treat a pal!” Percy and I were old friends; aboard ship I fed him, along with his
brothers and the hamsters and the rats.
“Percy, you’re a pig.”
He did not argue but continued to snuffle into my empty hand. I was thinking that eleven light-years
wasn’t far; it was about right. The stars were still familiar.
Presently Percy got tired of it and so did I, so I wiped my hand on my pants and went back to bed.
XIII IRRELEVANT RELATIONS
Beyond Beta Hydri: I ought to bring this up to date, or else throw it away. I hardly ever have time to
write now, since we are so short handed. Whatever it was we picked up on Constance-or, possibly,
caught from improperly fumigated stores-has left us with more than enough
to do, especially in my department. There are only six left now to handle all the traffic, Unc, myself, Mei-Ling, Anna, Gloria, and Sam. Dusty lived through
it but he is out of touch, apparently permanently. His brother had no kids
for a secondary team and they just slipped apart on the last peak and never matched in again.
I am dependent on my great-niece Kathleen and on Molly, her mother. Pat and I can still talk, but only with their help; if
we try it alone, it’s like trying to make yourself understood in a machine shop. You
know the other fellow is saying something but the more you strain the less you hear. Pat is fifty-four,
now that we have peaked on this leg; we just don’t have anything in common. Since Maude’s death he isn’t interested in anything but business-and I am not interested in that.
Unc is the only one who doesn’t feel his original telepartner slipping away. Celestine is forty-two now; they are coming together instead of separating. I still call her “Sugar Pie,” just to hear her chuckle. It is
hard to realize that she is twice my age; she ought to have braids and a missing front tooth.
All in all, we lost thirty-two people in the Plague. I had it and got well. Doe Devereaux didn’t get well and neither did Prudence nor Rupe. We have to fill in and act as if the others had never been with us. Mei-Ling’s baby died and for a while we thought we were going to lose Mei-Ling, but now she takes
her
watch and does her work and even laughs.
I guess the one we all miss the most is Mama O’Toole.
What else of importance has happened? Well, what can happen in a ship? Nothing. Beta Hydri was a washout. Not only nothing resembling an Earth-type planet, but no oceans-no water oceans, I mean; it was a choice for fuel between ammonia and methane, and the Chief Engineer and the Captain had long worried conferences before they settled for ammonia. Theoretically the Elsie will burn anything; give her mass-converter something to chew on and the old “e equals mc2” gets to work; the torch spits the mass out as radiation
at the speed of light and neutrons at almost the speed of light. But while the converter does not care, all of the torch’s auxiliary equipment is built to handle fluid, preferably water.
We had a choice between ammonia, already liquid, and an outer planet that was mostly ice, but ice not much warmer than absolute zero. So they crossed their fingers, put her down in an ocean of ammonia,
and
filled up the old girl’s tanks. The planet we named Inferno and then called it nastier names. We had
to
sit there four days at two gravities and it was cold, even with the ship’s air
heaters going full blast.
The Beta Hydri system is one I am not going back to; creatures with other metabolisms can have it and welcome. The only one who was pleased was Harry Gates, because the planetary arrangements
followed Bode’s Law. I wouldn’t care if they had been in Vee formation.
The only other thing that sticks in my mind was (of all things!)
political trouble. Our last peak started
just as that war broke out between the Afro-European Federation and Estados Unidos de Sud. It shouldn’t have
meant anything to us-it did not, to most of us, or at least we kept our sympathies to
ourselves. But Mr. Roch, our Chief Engineer, is from the Federation and his first assistant was born in Buenos Aires. When Buenos Aires got it, probably including some of Mr. Regato’s relatives, he blamed his boss personally. Silly, but what can you expect?
After that, the Captain gave orders that he would check Earthside news before it was printed and he reminded us of the special restrictions on communicators in re security of communications.
I think I would have been bright enough to submit that dispatch to the Captain before printing it, but I can’t be
sure. We’d had always had free press in the Elsie.
The only thing that got us out of that mess was that we peaked right after. When we came out of peak,
fourteen years had passed and the latest political line-up had Argentina friends with her former enemies and on the outs with the rest of South America. After a while Mr. Roch and Mr. Regato were back
playing chess together, just as if the Captain had never had to restrict them to keep them from each other’s throats.
Everything that happens back on Earth is a little unreal to me, even though we continue to get the news
when we are not at peak. You get your mind adjusted to a new situation; the Elsie goes through
a
peak … years have passed and everything has changed. They are calling the Planetary League
the “United System” now and they say that the new constitution makes war impossible.
It’s still the Planetary League to me-and it was supposed to make war impossible, too. I wonder what they changed besides the names?
Half of the news I don’t understand. Kathleen tells me that her class has pooled their eveners to buy a Fardie for their school as a graduation present and that they are going to outswing it for the first time at the commencement exercises-then she had to hurry away because she had been co-opted in charge. That was just last watch. Now what is a “Fardie” and what was wrong with it where it was?
The technical news that reaches us I don’t understand, either, but at least I know why and usually
somebody aboard does understand it. The relativists are excited about stuff coming in which is so
technical that it has to be retransmitted and confirmed before it is released-this with Janet Meers
standing behind you and trying to snatch spools out of the recorder. Mr. O’Toole gets excited too, only
the
way he shows it is for the end of his nose to get pink. Dr. Babcock never shows excitement, but he missed coming in for meals two days running after I copied a monograph called “Sumner on Certain
Aspects of Irrelevance.” At the end of that time I sent one back to LRF which Dr. Babcock had written. It was just as crammed with indigestible mathematics, but I gathered that Dr. Babcock was politely calling Professor Sumner a fool.
Janet Meers tried to explain it to me, but all that I got out of it was that the concept of simultaneity was forcing a complete new look at physics.
“Up to now,” she told me, “we’ve concentrated on the relative aspects of the space-time continuum. But
what you m-r people do is irrelevant to space-time. Without time there is no space; without
space there can be no time. Without space-time there can be no conservation of energy-mass. Heavens, there’s nothing. It has driven some of the old-timers out of their minds.
But now we are beginning to
see
how you people may possibly fit into physics-the new physics, I mean; it’s all changed.”
I had had enough trouble with the old-style physics; having to learn a new one made my head ache just to think about it. “What use is it?” I asked.
She looked shocked. “Physics doesn’t have to have any use. It just is.”
“Well, I don’t know. The old physics was useful. Take the torch that drives us, for example-” “Oh, that! That’s not physics, that’s just engineering”-as if I had mentioned something faintly
scandalous.
I will never understand Janet and perhaps it is just as well that she promised to “be a sister to me.” She said that she did not mind my being younger than she was, but that she did not think she could look up to a man who could not solve a fourth-degree function in his head. “… and a wife should always look
up to her husband, don’t you think?”
We were making the boosts at 1.5 gravity now. What with slippage, it cuts each up-boost and each
down-boost to about four months, S-time, even though the jumps are longer, During boost I weigh 220
pounds and I’ve started wearing arch supports, but 50% extra weight is all right and is probably good
for us, since it is too easy not to get enough exercise aboard ship.
The LRF has stopped using the drug stuff to help communications at peak, which would have pleased Dr. Devereaux since he disapproved of it so. Now your telepartner patches in with the help of hypnosis
and
suggestion alone, or you don’t patch. Kathleen managed to cross the last peak with me that way,
but I can see that we are going to lose communication teams all through the fleet, especially those who
have not managed to set up tertiary telepartners. I don’t knew where my own team would be without Kathleen. In the soup, I guess. As it is, the Niña and the Henry Hudson
are each down to two teams and
the
other four ships still in contact with Earth are not much better off. We are probably in the best shape, although we don’t get much fleet news since Miss Gamma fell out of step with her sisters-or lost them, as the case may be; the Santa Maria is listed as “missing” but the Marco Polo is simply carried as
“out
of contact” as she was approaching peak when last heard from and won’t be out of it for several Greenwich years.
We are headed now for a little G-type star
so
dim from Earth that it doesn’t rate a name, nor even a Greek-letter constellation designation, but just a catalog number. From Earth it lies in Phoenix, between
Hydrus the Sea Serpent and Cetus the Whale. (“Hydrus,”
not “Hydra”-Hydra is six R.A. hours over and farther north.) Unc called it a “Whistle Stop” so that is what we dubbed it, because you can’t reel off a Palomar Catalog number each time you speak of where you are going. No doubt it will get an impressive name if it turns out to have a planet half as good as Connie. Incidentally, Connie will he colonized in spite of the epidemic we may have picked up there; the first shiploads are on their way. Whatever the bug was that bit us (and it very possibly may have come from Earth), it is no worse than half a dozen other diseases men have had and have fought back at and licked. At least, that is the official view and the pioneer ships are going on the assumption that they will probably catch it and have to conquer it.
Personally, I figure that one way of dying is as dangerous as another; when you’re dead, you’re dead- even if you die from “nothing serious.” And the Plague, bad as it was, didn’t kill me.
“Whistle Stop” wasn’t worth a stop. We’re on our way to Beta Ceti, sixty-three light-years from Earth. I wish Dusty were still hooked up to transmit pictures; I would like one of my great-grandniece Vicky.
I know what she looks like-carroty red hair, freckles
across her nose, green eyes, a big mouth and braces on her teeth. At present she is sporting a black eye as well, picked up at school when somebody called her a freak and she resented it-I would love to have seen that fight! Oh, I know what she looks like but I’d like a picture anyhow.
It is funny how our family has run to girls. No, when I add it up, counting
all
descendants of my sisters
as
well as my brother, it comes out about
even. But Maude and Pat had two girls and no boys, and I went away and did not get married, so the Bartlett name has died out,
I certainly would like to have a picture of Vicky. I know she is homely, but I’ll bet she is cute, too-the kind of tomboy who always has scabs on her knees because she won’t play the ladylike games. She generally hangs around for a while after we are through transmitting and we talk. Probably she is just being polite, for she obviously thinks of me as being as old as her great-grandfather Bartlett even though her mother has told her that I am not. I suppose it depends on where you sit. I ought to be in my
last year in college now, but she knows that I am Pat’s twin.
If she wants to put a long white beard on me, that is all right with me, for the sake of her company. She was in a hurry this morning but nice about it. “Will you excuse me, please, Uncle Tom? I’ve got to go study for a quiz in algebra.”
(“Realio trulio?”) I said.
“Realio trulio, cross my heart. I’d like to stay.” (“Run along,
Freckle Face. Say hello to the folks.”) “ Bye! I’ll call you a little early tomorrow.”
She really is a nice child.
XIV
ELYSIA
Beta Ceti is a big star in the main spectral sequence, almost big enough to be classed as a giant-a small giant, thirty-seven times as bright as the Sun. It looks so bright from Earth that it has a name of its own, Deneb Kaitos, but we never call it that because “Deneb” brings to mind the other Deneb, Alpha Cygni, which is a real giant in a different part of the sky almost sixteen hundred light-years away.
Since Beta Ceti is so much brighter than the Sun, the planet we had been looking for, if it existed at all, had to be nearly six hundred million miles out, farther than Jupiter is from Sol.
We’ve found one, at five hundred and eighty million miles, which is close enough. Better yet, it is the smallest planet in a system that seems to run to outsizes; the one in the next track beyond is bigger than
Jupiter.
I scheduled most of the routine skyside survey of Elysia, under Harry Gates’
absentminded supervision. Harry is as eager as a fox terrier to finish his magnum opus before he has to knock off and take charge of the ground
survey. He wants to transmit it back Earthside and preserve his name in science’s hall of fame-not that he puts it that way, for Harry isn’t stuck up; nevertheless,
he thinks he has worked out a cosmogony for solar systems which includes Bode’s Law. He says that if he is right, any star in the main spectral sequence will have planets.
Maybe … I would not know. But I can’t see what use a star is without planets and I don’t believe all this complicated universe got here by accident. Planets are meant to be used.
Acting as Harry’s Man Friday has not been difficult. All I had to do was to dig the records of the preliminary survey of Connie out of the microfilms and write up similar schedules for Elysia, modified to allow for our loss of personnel. Everybody was eager to help, because
(so far as we know) we are the only ship to draw a lucky number twice and only one of four to hit even once. But we are down now, water-borne, and waiting for medicine to okay Elysia for ground survey; I’m not quite so rushed. I tried to get in touch with Vicky and just chat this evening. But it happens to be evening back home, too, and Vicky is out on a date and politely put me off.
Vicky grew up some when we peaked this last jump; she now takes notice of boys and does not have as much time for her ancient uncle. (“Is it George?”) I asked when she wanted to know if my call was
important.
“Well, if you must know, it is George!” she blurted out.
(“Don’t get excited, Freckle Face,”) I answered. (“I just asked.”)
“Well, I told you.”
(“Sure, sure. Have a good time, hon, and don’t stay out too late.”)
“You sound just like Daddy.”
I
suppose I did. The fact is I don’t have much use for George, although
I have never
seen him, never will, and don’t know much about him, except that Vicky says that be is “the tenth power” and “first with the worst” in spite of being “ruffily around the round”
if I knew what she meant, but she would
equalize that.
I didn’t know what she meant, but I interpreted it to mean approval slightly qualified and that she expected him to be perfect, or “ricketty all through” when she got through making him over. I suspect him of being the kind of pimply-faced, ignorant young bore that I used to be myself and have always
disliked-something about like Dusty Rhodes at the present without Dusty’s amazing mind.
This sounds
as if I were jealous of a boy I’ll never see over a girl I have never
seen, but that is
ridiculous. My interest is fatherly, or big-brotherly, even though I am effectively no relation to her; i.e., my parents were two of her sixteen great-great-grandparents-a relationship so distant that most people aren’t even aware of relatives of that remote degree.
Or maybe Van’s wild theory has something to it and we are all getting to be cranky old men-just our bodies are staying young. But that is silly. Even though seventy-odd Greenwich years have passed, it has been less than four for me since we left Earth. My true time is hunger and sleep; I’ve slept about fourteen hundred times in the Elsie and eaten three meals and a snack or two for each sleep. That is
four years, not seventy.
No, I’m just disappointed that on my first free evening in a couple of weeks I have nothing better to do
than write in my diary. But, speaking of sleep, I had better get some; the first party will go ashore tomorrow, if medicine
approves, and I will be busy. I won’t be on it but there is plenty to do to get them off.
We are a sorry mess. I don’t know what we can
do now.
I had better begin at the beginning. Elysia checked out in all ways on preliminary survey-breathable atmosphere, climate within Earth limits and apparently less extreme; a water, oxygen and carbon dioxide life cycle; no unusual hazards.
No signs of intelligent life, of course, or we would have skipped it. It is a watery world even more than Terra is, with over 90% oceans and there was talk of naming it “Aquaria” instead of Elysia, but somebody pointed out that there was no sense in picking a name which might make it unattractive to colonists when there seemed to be nearly as much usable land as Earth had.
So we cuddled up to an island as big as Madagascar-almost a continent for Elysia-with the idea that we could cover the whole island in the detailed survey and be able to report that a colony could settle there as fast as LRF could send a ship-we knew that Connie was already settled and we wanted to get this one
settled and make it a clean sweep for the Elsie.
I gave Percy a pat and told him to size up the lay of the land and to let me know if
he found any lady
pigs. Uncle Lucas took the guard ashore and the science party followed the same day. It was clear that Elysia was going to be no more of a problem than Connie had been and almost as big a prize-except for
the
remote possibility of exotic infection we could not handle.
That was two weeks ago.
It started out routine as breakfast. Percy and the other experimental animals flourished on an Elysian
diet; Van failed to catch anything worse than an itch and presently he was trying Elysian food himself-
there were awkward looking four-winged birds which broiled nicely; Van said they reminded him of roast turkey with an overtone of cantaloupe. But Percy the Pig would not touch some fish that were caught and the rats that did eat them died, so sea food was put off until further investigation could be made. The fish did not look like ours; they were flat the wrong way, like a flounder, and they had tendrils something like a catfish which raveled on the ends instead of being spiny. Harry Gates was of the opinion that they were feeling organs and possibly manipulative as well.
The island had nothing like the big-mouthed carnivorous lizards
that got Lefty Gomez. However, there was no telling what might be on other islands, since the land masses were so detached that totally different lines of evolution might have been followed in each island group. Our report was going to recommend that Devereaux Island be settled first, then investigate the others cautiously.
I
was due to go ashore on third rotation, Unc having taken the first week, then a week of rest, and now would take shipside watch while I linked with him from ashore. But at the last minute I agreed to
swap, as Anna was anxious to go.
I did not want to swap, but I had been running the department’s watch list since Rupe’s death and it would have been awkward to refuse. Gloria was going, too, since her husband was on that rotation, but Gloria did not count as her telepartner was on vacation back Earthside.
When they left, I was on top of the Elsie glumly watching them get into the boats. There was a “monkey island” deck temporarily rigged up there, outside the airlock; it was a good place to watch the boats being loaded at the cargo ports lower down. Engineering had completed inspection and overhaul and had about finished filling the boost-mass tanks; the Elsie was low in the water and the cargo ports
were not more than ten feet above waterline. It made loading convenient; at the time we put the first party ashore the tanks were empty and the boats had to be lowered nearly a hundred feet and
passengers had to go down rope ladders-not
easy for people afraid of heights, as so many are. But it was a cinch that day.
The airlock was only large enough for people; anything bigger had to go through the cargo ports. It was possible to rig the cargo ports as airlocks and we had done so on Inferno around Beta Hydri, but when the air was okay we just used them as doors. They were at the cargo deck, underneath the mess
deck and over the auxiliary machinery spaces; our three boats and the two helicopters were carried just inside on that deck. The boats could be swung out on gooseneck davits from where they nested but the helicopters had to be hooked onto boat falls, swung
out, then a second set of falls hooked to them from the monkey island above, by which a helicopter could be scooted up the Elsie’s curved side and onto the temporary top deck, where her jet rotors would be attached.
Mr. Regato cursed the arrangement every time we used it, “Mechanical buffoonery!” was his name for
it.
“I’ve never seen a ship’s architect who wasn’t happy as soon as he had a pretty picture. He never
stops to think that some poor fool is going to have to use his pretty picture.”
As may be, the arrangement did let the helis be unloaded with a minimum of special machinery to get out of order-which, I understand, was a prime purpose
in refitting the ships for the Project. But that day
the
helicopters were outside and ready, one of them at camp and the other tied down near me on the monkey island. All we had to do was to load the boats.
The boats were whale boats molded of glass and teflon and made nonsinkable by plastic foam in all dead spaces. They were so tough that, while you might be able to bash one in, you could not puncture
it with anything short of a drill or a torch, yet they were so light
that four men could lift one that was
empty. It did them no harm to drive them up onto a rocky beach, then they could be unloaded and
easily dragged higher. They were driven by alcohol jets, just as the helis were, but they had oars and
sails as well. We never used the oars although
all the men had gone through a dry drill under my Uncle Steve’s watchful
eye.
The boats had come in the night before loaded with specimens for the research department; now they were going back with people who would replace those ashore. From the monkey island I could see, half a mile away, the people who were coming back, waiting on the beach for the boats. Two of the boats
were lying off, waiting for the third; each had about eighteen people in it and a few bundles of things
requisitioned by Harry Gates for his scientific uses ashore, as well as a week’s supplies for the whole party.
I noticed a movement behind me, turned, and saw that it was the Old Man coming up the airlock hatch. “Good morning, Captain.”
“Morning, Bartlett.” He looked around. “Nice day.”
“Yes, sir…and a nice place.”
“It is indeed.” He looked toward the shore. “I’m going to find some excuse to hit dirt before we leave here. I’ve been on steel too long.”
“I don’t see why not, sir. This place is friendly as a puppy. Not like Inferno.”
“Not a bit.” He turned away, so I did too; you don’t press conversation on the Captain unless he wants
it.
The third boat was loaded now and cast loose; all three were about fifty yards away and were forming a column to go in together. I waved to Gloria and Anna.
At each boat, a long, wet rope as thick as my waist came up out of the water, passed across it amidships and back into the water on the other side. I yelled, “Hey, Captain! Look!”
He turned. The boats rolled sideways and sank-they were pulled under. I heard somebody scream and
the
water was crowded with struggling bodies.
The Captain leaned past me at the raft and looked at the disaster. He said in an ordinary tone, “Can you
start that chopper?”
“Uh, I think so, Captain.” I was not a helicopter pilot but I knew how it worked.
“Then do it.” He leaned far over and yelled, “Get that cargo door closed!” He turned and dived down
the
hatch. I caught a glimpse of what had made him yell as I turned to climb into the helicopter. It was
another of those wet ropes slithering up the Elsie’s side toward the cargo port.
Starting the helicopter was more complicated than I had realized, but there was a check-off list printed on
the instrument panel. I had fumbled my way down to “step four: start impeller” when I was pushed
aside by Ace Wenzel the torchman who was the regular pilot. Ace did something with both hands, the blades started to revolve, making shadows across our faces, and he yelled, “Cast her loose!”
I was shoved out the door as the Surgeon was climbing in; I fell four feet to the deck as the down blast hit me. I picked myself up and looked around.
There was nothing in the water, nothing. Not a body, not a person struggling to keep afloat, no sign of the boats. There was not even floating cargo although some of the packages would float. I knew; I had
packed some of them.
Janet was standing next to me, shaking with dry sobs. I said stupidly, “What happened?”
She tried to control herself and said shakily, “I don’t know. I saw one of them get Otto. It just…it just-” She started to bawl again and turned away.
There wasn’t anything on the water, but now I saw that there was something in the water, under it. From high up you can see down into water if
it
is fairly smooth; arranged around the ship in orderly
ranks were things of some sort. They looked like whales-or
what I think a whale would look like in water; I’ve never seen a whale;
I was just getting it through my confused head that I was looking at the creatures who had destroyed
the
boats when somebody yelled and pointed. On shore the people who were to return were still on the beach, but they were no longer alone-they were surrounded. The things had come ashore, on each side of them and had flanked them. I could not see well at that distance but I could see the sea creatures because they were so much bigger than we were. They didn’t have legs, so far as I could tell, but it did not
slow them down-they were fast.
And our people were being herded into the water.
There was nothing we could do about it, not anything. Under us we had a ship that was the end product
of centuries of technical progress; its torch could destroy a city in the blink of an eye. Ashore the guard had weapons by which one man was equal to an army of older times and there were more such weapons somewhere in the ship. But at the time I did not even know where the armory was, except that it was somewhere in the auxiliary deck-you can live a long time in a ship and never visit all her compartments.
I suppose I should have been down in the auxiliary deck, searching for weapons. But what I did was
stand there, frozen, with a dozen others, and watch it happen.
But somebody had been more alert than I had been. Two men came bursting up through
the hatch; they threw down two ranger guns and started frantically to plug them in and break open packages of ammunition. They could have saved the effort; by the time they were ready to sight in on the enemy, the beach was as empty as the surface of the water. Our shipmates had been pushed and dragged under. The helicopter was hovering over the spot; its rescue ladder was down but there was no one on it.
The helicopter swung around over the island and across
our camp site, then returned to the ship.
While it was moving in to touch down, Chet Travers hurried up the ladder. He looked around,
saw me
and said, “Tom, where’s the Captain?” “In the chopper.”
“Oh.” He frowned. “Well, give him this. Urgent. I’ve got to get back down.” He shoved a paper at me and disappeared. I glanced at it, saw that it was a message form, saw who it was from, and grabbed the Captain’s arm as he stepped out of the heli.
He shrugged me off. “Out of my way!”
“Captain, you’ve got to-it’s a message from the island-from Major Lucas.”
He stopped then and took it from me, then fumbled for his reading glasses, which I could see sticking
out of a pocket. He shoved the dispatch form back at me before I could help him and said, “Read it to
me,
boy.”
So I did. “ ‘From: Commander Ship’s Guard-To: Commanding Officer Lewis and Clark-Oh nine three one-at oh nine oh five survey camp was attacked by hostile natives, believed to be amphibious. After suffering initial heavy losses the attack was beaten off and I have withdrawn with seven survivors to the hilltop north of the camp. We were forced to abandon survey craft number two. At time of attack, exchange party was waiting on beach; we are cut off from them and their situation is not known but must be presumed to be desperate.
“ ‘Discussion: The attack was intelligently organized and was armed. Their principal weapon appears to be a jet of sea water
at
very high pressure but they use also a personal weapon for stabbing and
cutting. It must be assumed that they have other weapons. It must be conditionally assumed that they
are
as intelligent as we are, as well disciplined, and possibly as well armed for the conditions
Their superior numbers give them a present advantage even if they had no better weapons.
“ ‘Recommendations:
My surviving command can hold out where it is against weapons thus far
encountered. It is therefore urgently recommended that immediate measures be limited to rescuing beach party. Ship should then be placed in orbit until a plan can be worked out and weapons improvised to relieve my command without hazard to the ship.-S. Lucas, Commandant, oh nine three six.”“
The Captain took the message and turned toward the hatch without
speaking. Nobody said anything
although
there were at least twenty of us crowded up there. I hesitated, then when I saw that others were going down, I pushed in and followed the Captain.
He stopped two decks down and went into the communications office. I didn’t follow him, but he left the door open. Chet Travers was in there, bent over the gear he used to talk with the camp, and
Commander Frick was leaning over him with a worried look on his face: The Captain said, “Get me Major Lucas.”
Commander Frick looked up. “We’re trying to, Captain. Transmission cut off while they were sending
us a
list of casualties.”
The Captain chewed his lip and looked frustrated, then he said “Keep trying,” and turned. He saw me.
“Bartlett!”
“Yes, sir!”
“You have one of your people over there. Raise him.”
I thought rapidly, trying to remember the Greenwich even as I was calling Vicky-if Vicky was home, she
could get through
on the direct line to LRF and they could hook her with Sam Rojas’s telepartner
and
thence to Sam, and the Captain could talk to Uncle Steve on a four-link relay almost as fast as he could by radio. (“Vicky! Come in, Vicky! Urgent!”)
“Yes; Uncle Tom? What is it? I was asleep.”
Commander Frick said, “I don’t think that will work, Captain. Rojas isn’t on the list of survivors. He was scheduled for rotation; he must have been down at the beach.”
Of course, of course! Sam would have been down at the beach-I had stood by and must have watched
him
being herded into the water!
“What is it, Uncle Tom?” (“Just wait, hon. Stay linked.”)
“Then get me somebody else,” the Captain snapped.
“There isn’t anyone else, Captain,” Frick answered. “Here’s the list of survivors.
Rojas was the only fr- the only special communicator we had ashore.”
The Captain glanced at the list, said, “Pass the word for all hands not on watch to assemble in the mess room on the double.” He turned and walked right through
me. I jumped out of the way.
“What’s the matter, Uncle Tom? You sound worried.”
I tried to control my voice. (“It was a mistake, hon. Just forget it and try to get back to sleep. I’m sorry.”)
“All right. But you still sound worried.”
I hurried after the Captain. Commander Frick’s voice was calling out the order over the ship’s system as we hurried down the ladders, yet he was only a moment or two behind me in reaching the mess room. In a matter of seconds
we were all there … just a handful
of those who had left Earth-about forty. The Captain looked around and said to Cas Warner, “Is this all?”
“I think so, Captain, aside from the engineering watch.” “I left Travers on watch,” added Frick.
“Very well” The Captain turned and faced us. “We are about to rescue the survivors ashore. Volunteers step forward.”
We didn’t step, we surged, all together. I would like to say that I was a split second ahead, because of
Uncle Steve, but it wouldn’t be true. Mrs. Gates was carrying young Harry in her arms and she was as fast as I was.
“Thank you,” the Captain said stiffly. “Now will the women please go over there by the pantry so that I can pick the men who will go.”
“Captain?”
“Yes, Captain Urqhardt?” “I will lead the party.”
“You’ll do nothing of the sort, sir. I will lead: You will now take some women and go down and fetch
what we need.”
Urqhardt barely hesitated, then said, “Aye, aye, sir.”
“That rule-our standing rule for risk-will apply to all of you. In doubly-manned jobs the older man will go. In other jobs, if the job can be dispensed with, the man will go; if it cannot be, the man will stay.” He looked around.
“Dr. Babcock!” “Righto, Skipper!”
Mr. O’Toole said, “Just a moment, Captain. I am a widower and Dr. Babcock is much more-” “Shut up.”
“But-”
“Confound it, sir, must I debate every decision with every one of you? Must I remind you that every
second counts? Get over there with the women.”
Red-faced and angry Mr. O’Toole did as he was told. The Captain went on, “Mr. Warner. Mr. Bach. Dr. Severin-” Quickly he picked those he wanted, then waved the rest of us over toward the pantry.
Uncle Alfred McNeil tried to straighten his stooped shoulders. “Captain, you forgot me. I’m the oldest in my department.”
The Captain’s face softened just a hair. “No, Mr. McNeil, I didn’t forget,” he said quietly, “but the capacity of the chopper is limited-and we have seven to bring back. So I must omit you.”
Unc’s shoulders sagged and I thought
he was going to cry, than he shuffled over away from the selected few. Dusty Rhodes caught my eye and looked smug and proud;
he was one of the chosen. He still did not look more than sixteen and I don’t think he had ever shaved; this was probably the first time in his life that he had ever been treated in all respects as a man.
In spite of the way the others had been shut off short I couldn’t let it stand. I stepped forward again and
touched the Captain’s sleeve. “Captain … you’ve got to let me go! My uncle is over there.”
I thought he was going to explode, but he caught himself.
“I see your point. But you arc a special communicator and we haven’t any spare. I’ll tell Major Lucas that you tried.”
“But-”
“Now shut up and do as you are told-before I kick you half across the compartment.” He turned away as if
I didn’t exist.
Five minutes
later arms had been issued and we were all crowding up the ladders to see them off. Ace
Wenzel started the helicopter at idling speed and jumped out. They filed in, eight of them, with the Captain last. Dusty had a bandolier ever each shoulder and a ranger gun in his hands; he was grinning
excitedly. He threw me a wink and said, “I’ll send you a postcard.”
The Captain paused and said, “Captain Urqhardt.” “Yes, sir.”
The Captain and the reserve captain conferred for a moment; I couldn’t hear them and I don’t think we were meant to hear. Then Captain Urqhardt said loudly, “Aye, aye, sir. It shall be done.”
“Very good, sir.” The Captain stepped in, slammed the door, and took the controls himself. I braced myself against the down blast.
Then we waited.
I alternated between monkey island and the comm office. Chet Travers still could not raise Uncle Steve but he was in touch with the heli. Every time I went top side I looked for the sea things but they seemed to have gone away.
Finally I came down again to the comm room and Chet was looking joyful. “They’ve got ‘em!” he announced.
“They’re off the ground.” I started to ask him about it but he was turning to announce the glad news
over the ship’s system; I ran up to see if I could spot the heli.
I saw it, near the hilltop, about
a mile and a half away. It moved rapidly toward the ship. Soon we could see people inside. As it got closer someone opened a window on the side toward us.
The Captain was not really skilled with a helicopter. He tried to make a landing straight in but his judgment of wind was wrong and be had to swing on past and try again. The maneuver brought
the craft so close to the ship that we could see the passengers plainly. I saw Uncle Steve and he saw me and waved; he did not call out, he just waved. Dusty Rhodes was beside him and saw me, too. He grinned
and
waved and shouted, “Hey, Tom, I rescued your buddy!” He reached back and then Percy’s head
and cloven forehooves showed above the frame, with Dusty holding the pig with one hand and pointing
to
him with the other. They were both grinning.
“Thanks!”
I yelled back. “Hi, Percy!”
The chopper turned a few hundred feet beyond the ship and headed back into the wind.
It was coming straight toward the ship and would have touched down soon when something came out of the water right under it. Some said it was a machine-to me it looked like an enormous elephant’s trunk. A stream of water so solid, hard, and bright that it looked like steel shot out of the end of it; it struck a rotor tip and the heli staggered.
The Captain leaned the craft over and it slipped out of contact. The stream followed it, smashed against the fuselage and again caught a rotor; the heli tilted violently and began to fall.
I’m not much in an emergency; it is hours
later when I figure out what I should have done. This time I acted without thinking. I dived down the ladder without hitting the treads and was on down in the cargo
deck almost at once. The port of that side was closed, as it had been since the Captain ordered it closed earlier; I slapped the switch and it began to grind open. Then I looked around
and saw what I needed: the boat falls, coiled loosely on deck, not yet secured. I grabbed a bitter end and was standing on the port as it was still swinging down to horizontal.
The wrecked helicopter was floating right in front of me and there were people struggling in the water.
“Uncle Steve!” I yelled “Catch!” I threw the line as far as I could.
I had not even seen him as I yelled. It was just the idea that was in the top of my mind. Then I did see him, far beyond where I had been able to throw the line. I heard him call back, “Coming, Tom!” and he started swimming
strongly toward the ship.
I was so much in a daze that I almost pulled the line in to throw it again when I realized that I had
managed to throw far enough for some one. I yelled again. “Harry! Right behind you! Grab on!”
Harry Gates rolled ever in the water, snatched at the line and got it. I started to haul him in.
I almost lost him as I got him to the ship’s skin. One of his arms seemed almost useless and he nearly
lost his grasp. But between us we managed to manhandle him up and into the port; we would not have made it if the Ship had not been so low in the water. He collapsed inside and lay on his face, gasping and sobbing.
I jerked the fall loose from his still clenched hand and turned to throw it to Uncle Steve.
The helicopter was gone, Uncle Steve was gone, again the water was swept clean-except for Percy,
who, with his head high out of water, was swimming with grim determination toward the ship.
I made sure that there were no other people anywhere in the water. Then I tried to think what I could do for Percy.
The poor little porkchop could not grab a line, that was sure. Maybe I could lasso him. I fumbled to get a slip knot in the heavy line. I had just managed it when Percy gave a squeal of terror
and I jerked my
head around just in time to see him pulled under the water.
It wasn’t a mouth that got him. I don’t think it was a mouth.
XV
“CARRY OUT HER MISSION”
I don’t know what I expected after the attack by the behemoths. We just wandered around in a daze. Some of us tried to look out from the monkey island deck until that spouter appeared again and almost knocked one of us off, then Captain Urqhardt ordered all hands to stay inside and the hatch was closed.
I certainly did not expect a message that was brought around after supper (if supper had been served; some made themselves sandwiches) telling me to report at once for heads-of-departments conference.
“That’s you, isn’t it, Tom?” Chet Travers asked me. “They tell me Unc Alfred is on the sick list. His door
is closed.”
“I suppose
it’s me.” Unc had taken it hard and was in bed with a soporific in him, by order of the one remaining medical man, Dr. Pandit.
“Then you had better shag up there.”
First I went to Captain Urqhardt’s room and found it dark, then I got smart and went to the Captain’s cabin. The door was open and some were already around the table with Captain Urqhardt at the head.
“Special communications department, sir,” I announced myself.
“Sit down, Bartlett.”
Harry came in behind me and Urqhardt got up and shut the door and sat down. I looked around,
thinking it was a mighty funny heads-of-departments meeting. Harry Gates was the only boss there who had been such when we left Earth. Mr. Eastman was there instead of Commander Frick. Mama O’Toole was long dead but now Cas was gone too; ecology was represented by Mr. Krishnamurti who
had
merely been in charge of air-conditioning and hydroponics when we had left. Mr. O’Toole was there in place of Dr. Babcock, Mr. Regato instead of Mr. Roch. Sergeant Andreeli, who was also a machinist in engineering, was there in place of Uncle Steve and he was the only member of the ship’s
guard left alive-because he had been sent back to the ship with a broken arm two days earlier. Dr.
Pandit sat where Dr. Devereaux should have been.
And myself
of course but I was just fill-in; Unc was still aboard. Worst of all, there was Captain
Urqhardt sitting where the Captain should have been.
Captain Urqhardt started in. “There is no need to detail our situation; you all know it. We will dispense with the usual departmental reports, too. In my opinion our survey of this planet is as
complete as we can make it with present personnel and equipment… save that an additional report must be made of the hazard encountered today in order that the first colonial party will be prepared to defend
itself. Is there disagreement? Dr. Gates, do you wish to make further investigations here?”
Harry looked surprised and answered, “No, Captain. Not under the circumstances.”
“Comment?” There was none. “Very well,” Urqhardt continued. “I propose
to shape course for Alpha Phoenicis. We will hold memorial services at nine tomorrow morning and boost
at noon. Comment? Mr. O’Toole.”
“Eh? Do you mean can we have the figures ready? I suppose so, if
Janet and I get right on it.” “Do so, as soon as we adjourn. Mr. Regato?”
Regato was looking astounded. “I didn’t expect this, Captain.
“It is short notice, but can your department be ready? I believe you have boost mass aboard.”
“It isn’t that,. Captain. Surely, the torch will be ready. But I thought we would make one long jump for
Earth.”
“What led you to assume that?”
“Why, uh …” The new Chief Engineer stuttered and almost slipped out of P-L lingo into Spanish. “The shape we are in, sir. The engineering department will have to go on watch-and-watch, heel and toe. I
can’t speak for other departments, but they can’t be in much better shape.”
“No, you can’t and I am not asking you to. With respect to your
own
department, is it mechanically ready?”
Regato swallowed. “Yes, sir. But people break down as well as machinery.”
“Wouldn’t you have to stand watch-and-watch to shape course for Sol?” Urqhardt did not wait for the obvious answer, but went on, “I should not have to say this. We are not here for our own convenience; we are here on an assigned mission … as you all know. Earlier today, just before Captain Swanson left, he said to me, “Take charge of my ship, sir. Carry out her mission.” I answered, ‘Aye, aye, sir.’ Let me remind you of that mission: we were sent out to conduct the survey we have been making, with orders
to
continue the search as long as we were in communication with Earth-when we fell out of
communication, we were free to return to Earth, if possible. Gentlemen, we are still in touch with
Earth; our next assigned survey point is Alpha Phoenicis. Could anything be clearer?”
My thoughts were boiling up so that I hardly heard him. I was thinking: who does this guy think he is? Columbus? Or the Flying Dutchman? There were only a little over thirty of us left alive-in a ship that had started with two hundred. The boats were gone, the heli’s were-I almost missed his next remark.
“Bartlett?” “Sir?”
“What about your department?”
It dawned on me that we were the key department-us freaks. When we fell out of touch, he had to turn
back. I was tempted to say that we had all gone deaf, but I knew I couldn’t get away with it. So I stalled.
“As you pointed out, sir, we are in touch with Earth.” “Very well.” His eyes turned toward Dr. Pandit.
“Just a moment, Captain,” I insisted. “There’s more to it.” “Eh? State it.”
“Well, this next jump is about thirty years, isn’t it? Greenwich I mean.” “Of that order. Somewhat less.”
“
‘Of that order.’ There are three special communicators left, myself, Unc-I mean Mr. McNeil-and
Mei-Ling Travers. I think you ought to count Unc out.”
“Why?”
“Because he has his original telepartner
and
she is now as old as he is. Do you think Unc will live another thirty years?”
“But it won’t be thirty years for him-oh, sorry! I see your point. She would be well past a hundred if she
lived at all. Possibly senile.”
“Probably, sir. Or more likely dead.”
“Very well, we won t count McNeil. That leaves two of you. Plenty for essential communication.
“I doubt it, sir. Mei-Ling is a poor bet. She has only a secondary linkage and her partner is over thirty, with no children. Based on other telepairs, I would say that it is most unlikely that they will stay in rapport through another peak … not a thirty-year one.”
“That still leaves yourself.”
I thought suddenly that if I had the guts to jump over the side, they could all go home. But it was just a thought; when I die, it won’t be suicide. “My own case isn’t much better, sir. My telepartner is about-” I had to stop and count up, then the answer did not seem right. “-is about nineteen, sir. No kids. No chance of kids before we peak…
and I couldn’t link in with a brand-new baby anyhow. She’ll be fiftyish when we come out. So far as I know, there hasn’t been a case in the whole fleet of bridging that long a period out of rapport.”
He waited several moments before be answered. “Have you any reason to believe that it is
impossible?”
“Well… no, sir. But it is extremely unlikely.”
“Hmm … do you consider yourself an authority in theory of telepathy?” “Huh? No, sir. I am just a telepath, that’s all.”
“I think he is probably right,” put in Dr. Pandit, “are you an authority, Doctor?” “Me, sir? As you know, my specialty is exotic pathology. But-”
“In that case, we will consult authorities Earthside. Perhaps they can suggest some way to improve our chances. Very probably, under the circumstances, the Foundation will again authorize use of drugs to reduce the possibility that our special communicators might fall out of touch during peak. Or
something.”
I thought of telling him that Vicky wasn’t going to risk dangerous habit-forming drugs. Then I thought better of it. Pat had-and Vicky might.
“That is all, gentlemen. We will boost at noon tomorrow. Uh, one more thing … One of you implied that morale is not too high in the ship. That is correct and I am perhaps more aware of it than you are.
But morale will shake down to normal and we will best be able to forget the losses we have suffered if we all get quickly back to work. I want only to add that you all, as senior officers of
this ship, have most to do with morale by setting an example. I am sure that you will.” He stood up.
I don’t know how news travels in a ship but by the time I got down to the mess room everybody knew that we were boosting tomorrow
… and not for home. It was buzz-buzz and yammer all over. I ducked out
because I didn’t want to discuss it; my thoughts were mixed. I thought
the Captain was insisting on
one more jump from which he couldn’t possibly report his results, if any-and with a nice fat chance that none of us would ever get home. On the other hand I admired the firm way he faced us up to our obligations and brushed aside panic. He had guts.
So did the Flying Dutchman have guts-but at last report he was still trying to round the Cape and not succeeding.
The Captain-Captain Swenson, I corrected-would not have been that bullheaded.
Or would he? According to Urqhardt, the last thing the Captain had said had been to remind Urqhardt that it was up to him to carry out the mission. All of us had been very carefully chosen (except us freaks) and probably the skipper and the relief skipper of each ship were picked primarily for bulldog stubbornness, the very quality that had kept Columbus going on and on when he was running out of
water and his crew was muttering mutiny. I remembered Uncle Steve had once suggested as much.
I decided to go talk to Uncle Steve … then I remembered I couldn’t and I really felt bad. When my parents had died, two peaks back, I had felt bad because
I didn’t feel as bad as I knew I should have felt. When it happened-or rather, by the time I knew about it-they were long dead, people I had not seen in a long time and just faces in a photograph. But Uncle Steve I had seen every day-I had seen today.
And I had been in the habit of kicking my troubles around with him whenever they were too much for
me.
I felt his loss then, the delayed shock you get when you are hit hard. The hurt doesn’t come until you
pull yourself together and realize you’re hit.
It was just as well that somebody tapped on my door then, or I would have bawled.
It was Mei-Ling and her
husband, Chet. I invited them in and they sat down on the bed. Chat got to the point.
“Tom, where do you stand on this?” “On what?”
“This silly business of trying to go on with a skeleton crew.”
“It doesn’t matter where I stand,” I said slowly. “I’m not running the ship.” “Ah, but you are!”
“Huh?”
“I don’t mean quite that, but I do mean you can put a stop to the nonsense. Now, look, Tom, everybody
knows what you told the Captain and-”
“Who’s been talking?”
“Huh? Never mind. If it didn’t leak from you, it probably did from everybody else present; it’s common knowledge. What you told him made sense. What it comes down to is that Urqhardt is
depending on you and you alone to keep him in touch with the home office. So you’re the man with the stick. You can stop him.”
“Huh? Now wait. I’m not the only one. Granted that he isn’t counting on Unc-how about Mei-Ling?” Chat shook
his head. “Mei-Ling isn’t going to ‘think-talk’ for him.”
His wife said, “Now, Chet; I haven’t said so.”
He looked at her fondly. “Don’t be super-stupid, my lovely darling. You know that there is no chance at all that you will be any use to him after
peak. If our brave Captain Urqhardt hasn’t got that through his head now, he will … even if I have to explain to him in words of one syllable.”
“But I might stay linked.”
“Oh, no, you won’t … or I’ll
bash your pretty head in. Our kids are going to grow up on Earth.”
She looked soberly at him and patted his hand. The Travers’s were not expecting again, but everybody
knew they were hoping; I began to see why Chet was adamant… and I became quite sure that Mei-Ling
would not link again after peak-not after her husband had argued with her for a while. What Chet wanted was more important to her than what the Captain wanted, or any abstract duty to a Foundation back on Earth.
Chet went on, “Think it over, Tom, and you will see that you can’t let your shipmates
down. To go on
is suicidal and everybody knows it but the Captain. It’s up to you.” “Uh, I’ll think it over.”
“Do that. But don’t take too long.” They left.
I went to bed but didn’t sleep. The deuce of it was that Chet was almost certainly right … including the certainty that Mei-Ling would never patch in with her telepair after another peak, for she was beginning to slip even now. I had been transmitting mathematical or technical matter which would have fallen to her ever since last peak, because her linking was becoming erratic. Chet wouldn’t have to bash
her
admittedly-pretty head in; she was falling out of touch.
On the other hand…
When I had reached “On the other hand” about eighteen times, I got up and dressed and went looking for
Harry Gates;
it occurred to me that since he was a head of department and present at the meeting, it was proper to talk to him about it.
He wasn’t in his room; Barbara suggested that I try the laboratory. He was there, alone, unpacking specimens that had been sent over the day before. He looked up. “Well, Tom, how is it going?”
“Not too good.”
“I know. Say, I haven’t had a proper chance to thank you. Shall I write it out, or will you have it right off my chest?”
“Uh, let’s take it for granted.” I had not understood him at first, for it is the simple truth that I had
forgotten about pulling him out of the water; I hadn’t had time to think about it.
“As you say.
But I won’t forget it. You know that, don’t you?” “Okay. Harry, I need advice.”
“You do? Well, I’ve got it in all sizes. All of it free and all of it worth what it costs, I’m afraid.” “You were at the meeting tonight.”
“So were you.” He looked worried.
“Yes.” I told him all that had been fretting me, then thought about it and told him all that Chet had
said. “What am I to do, Harry? Chet is right; the chance of doing any good on another jump isn’t worth
it.
Even if we find a planet worth reporting-a chance that is never good,
based on what the fleet has done
as a whoIe-even so, we almost certainly won’t be able to report it except by going back, two centuries after we left. It’s ridiculous and, as Chet says, suicidal, with what we’ve got left. On the other hand, the Captain is right; this is what we signed up for. The ship’s sailing orders say for us to go on.”
Harry carefully unpacked a package of specimens before he answered.
“Tommie, you should ask me an easy one. Ask me whether or not to get married and I’ll tell you like a shot. Or anything else. But there is one thing no man can tell another man and that is whore his duty
lies. That you must decide for yourself.”
I thought about it. “Doggone it, Harry, how do you feel about it?”
“Me?” He stopped what he was doing. “Tom, I just don’t know. For myself personally … well, I’ve been happier in this ship than I have ever been before in my life. I’ve got my wife and kids with me and I’m doing just the work I want to do. With others it may be different.”
“How about your kids?”
“Aye, there’s the rub. A family man-” He frowned. “I can’t advise you, Tom. If I even hint that you
should not do what you signed up to do, I’d be inciting to
mutiny … a capital crime,
for both of us. If I tell you that you must do what the Captain wants, I’d be on safe legal grounds-but it might mean the death of you and me and my kids and all the rest of us… because Chet has horse sense on his side even if the law is against him.” He sighed. “Tom, I just missed checking out today-thanks to you-and my
judgment isn’t back in shape. I can’t advise you; I’d be prejudiced.”
I didn’t answer. I was wishing that Uncle Steve had made it; he always
had
an answer for everything.
“All I can do,” Harry went on, “is to make a weaselly suggestion.”
“Huh? What is it?”
“You might go to the Captain privately and tell him just how worried you are. It might affect his
decisions. At least he ought to know.”
I said I would think about it and thanked him and left. I went to bed and eventually got to sleep. I was awakened in the middle of the night by the ship shaking. The ship always swayed a little when
waterborne, but not this way, nor this much; not on Elysia.
It stopped and then it started again…and again it stopped…and started. I was wondering what…when it suddenly quivered in an entirely different way, one that I recognized; it was the way the torch felt when it was just barely critical. The engineers called it “clearing her throat” and was a regular part of
overhaul and inspection. I decided that Mr. Regato must be working late, and I quieted down again. The bumping did not start up again.
At breakfast I found
out what it was: the behemoths had tried something, nobody knew what, against the ship itself…whereupon the Captain had quite logically ordered Mr. Regato to use the torch against them. Now, although we still did not know much about them, we did know one thing: they were not immune to super-heated steam and intense radioactivity.
This brush with the sea devils braced my spine; I decided to see the Captain as Harry had suggested.
He let me in without keeping me waiting more than five minutes. Then he kept quiet and let me talk as
long as I wanted to. I elaborated the whole picture, as I saw it, without attributing anything to Chet or Harry. I couldn’t tell from his face whether I was reaching him or not, so I put it strongly: that Unc and
Mei-Ling were both out of the picture and that the chance that I would be of any use after the next peak
was
so slight that he was risking his. ship and his crew on very long odds.
When I finished I still didn’t know, nor did he make a direct answer. Instead he said, “Bartlett, for
fifty-five minutes yesterday evening you had two other members of the crew in your room with your
door closed.”
“Huh? Yes, sir.”
“Did you speak to them of this?” I wanted to lie. “Uh…yes, sir.”
“After that you looked up another member of the crew and remained with him until quite late…or
quite early, I should say. Did you speak to him on the same subject?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Very well I am holding you for investigation on two counts: suspicion of inciting to mutiny and suspicion of intent to mutiny. You are under arrest. Go to your room and remain there. No visitors.”
I gulped, Then something Uncle Steve had told me came to my aid-Uncle had been a jawbone
space- lawyer and loved to talk about it. “Aye, aye, sir. But I insist that I be allowed to see counsel of my
choice…and that I be given a public hearing.”
The Captain nodded as if I had told him that it was raining. “Certainly. Your legal rights will be respected. But those matters will have to wait; we are now preparing to get underway. So place yourself
under arrest and get to your quarters.”
He turned away and left me to confine myself. He didn’t even seem angry.
So here I sit, alone in my room. I had to tell Unc he couldn’t come in and, later, Chet. I can’t believe what has happened to me.
XIV
“JUST A MATHEMATICAL ABSTRACTION”
That morning seemed a million years long. Vicky checked with me at the usual time, but I told her that the watch list was being switched around
again and that I would get in touch with her later. “Is
something wrong?” she asked.
“No, hon, we’re just having a little reorganization aboard ship.” “All right. But you sound worried.”
I
not only didn’t tell her that I was in a jam, I didn’t tell her anything about the disaster. Time enough later, after it had aged-unless she found out from official news. Meanwhile there was no reason to get a nice kid upset over something she couldn’t help.
Twenty minutes later Mr. Eastman showed up. I answered the door when he knocked and told him,
“I’m
not to have any visitors.
Sorry.”
He didn’t leave. “I’m not a visitor, Tom; I’m here officially, for the Captain.” “Oh.” I let him in.
He had a tool kit with him. He set it down and said, “The regular and special communication departments have been consolidated, now that we are so shorthanded, so it looks like I’m your boss. It won’t make any difference, I’m sure. But I’m to make a reconnection on your recorder, so that you can record directly into the comm office.”
“Okay. But why?”
He seemed embarrassed, “Well…you were due to go on watch a half
hour ago. We’re going to fix this
so that you can stand your watches conveniently from here. The Captain is annoyed that I didn’t arrange it earlier.” He started unscrewing the access plate to the recorder.
I was speechless. Then I remembered something Uncle Steve had told me. “Hey, wait a minute!” “Eh?”
“Oh, go ahead and rewire it, I don’t care. But I won’t stand any watches.”
He straightened up and looked worried. “Don’t talk like that, Tom, You’re in enough trouble now; don’t make it worse. Let’s pretend you never said it. Okay?”
Mr. Eastman was a decent sort and the only one of the electronics people who had never called us
freaks. I think he was really concerned about me. But I said, “I don’t see how it can be worse. You tell the Captain that I said he could take his watches and-” I stopped. That wasn’t what Uncle Steve would
say. “Sorry. Please tell him this: ‘Communicator Bartlett’s respects to the Captain and he regrets that he cannot perform duty while under arrest’ Got it?”
“Now look here, Tom, that’s not the proper attitude. Surely, there is something in what you say from a standpoint of regulations. But we are shorthanded; everybody has to pitch in and help. You can’t stand
on the letter of the law;
it isn’t fair
to
the rest.”
“Can’t I?” I was breathing hard and exulting in the chance to hit back. “The Captain can’t have his
cake and eat it too. A man under arrest doesn’t perform duty. It’s
always been that way end it always will be. You just tell him what I said.”
He silently finished the reconnection with quick precision.
“You’re sure that’s what you want me to tell him?”
“Quite sure.”
“All right. Hooked the way that thing is now”-he added, pointing a thumb at the recorder-”you can
reach me on if you change your
mind. So long.”
“One more thing-” “Eh?”
“Maybe the Captain hasn’t thought
about it, since his cabin has a bathroom, but I’ve been in here some hours. Who takes me down the passageway and when? Even a prisoner is entitled to regular policing.”
“Oh. I guess I do. Come along.”
That was the high point of the morning. I expected Captain Urqhardt to show up five minutes after Mr. Eastman had left me at my room-breathing fire and spitting cinders. So I rehearsed a couple of
speeches in my head, carefully phrased to keep me inside the law and quite respectful. I knew I had
him.
But nothing happened. The Captain did not show up; nobody showed up. It got to be close to noon. When no word was passed about standing by for boost, I got in my bunk with five minutes to spare and waited.
It was a long five minutes.
About a quarter past twelve I gave up and got up. No lunch either. I heard the gong at twelve-thirty, but still nothing and nobody. I finally decided that I would skip one meal before I complained, because I didn’t want to give him the chance to change the subject by pointing out that I had broken arrest. It occurred to me that I could call Unc and tell him about the failure in the beans department, then I
decided that the longer I waited, the more wrong
the Captain would be.
About an hour after everybody else had finished eating Mr. Krishnamurti showed up with a tray. The fact that he brought it himself instead of sending whoever had pantry duty convinced me that I must be a Very Important Prisoner-particularly as Kris was unanxious to talk to me and even seemed scared of
being near me. He just shoved it in and said, “Put it in the passageway when you are through.”
“Thanks, Kris.”
But buried in the food on the tray was a note: “Bully for you! Don’t weaken and we’ll trim this bird’s
wings. Everybody is pulling for you.” It was unsigned and I did not recognize the handwriting. It wasn’t Krishnamurti’s; I knew his from the time when I was fouling up his farm. Nor was it either of the Travers’s, and certainly not Harry’s.
Finally I decided that I didn’t want to guess whose it was and tore it in pieces and chewed it up, just like the Man in the Iron Mask or the Count of Monte Cristo. I don’t really qualify as a romantic hero,
however, as I didn’t swallow it; I just chewed it up and spat it out. But I made darn sure that note was destroyed, for I not only did not want to
know
who had sent it, I didn’t want anybody ever to know.
Know why? That note didn’t make me feel good; it worried me. Oh, for two minutes it bucked me up; I felt larger than life, the champion of the downtrodden.
Then I realized what the note meant…
Mutiny.
It’s the ugliest word in space. Any other disaster is better.
One of the first things Uncle Steve had told me-told Pat and myself, way back when we were kids-
was: “The Captain is right even when he is wrong.” It was years before I understood it; you have to live
in a ship to know why it is true. And I didn’t understand it in my heart until I read that encouraging
note and realized that somebody was seriously thinking of bucking the Captain’s authority … and that I
was
the symbol of their resistance.
A ship is not just a little world; it is more like a human body. You can’t have democracy in it, not democratic consent at least, no matter how pleasant and democratic the Captain’s manner may be. If you’re in a pinch, you don’t take a vote from your arms and legs and stomach and gizzard and find out what the majority wants. Darn well you don’t! Your brain makes a decision and your
whole being carries it out.
A ship in space is like that all the time and has to be. What Uncle Steve meant was that the Captain had
better be right, you had better pray that he is right even if you disagree with him… because it won’t save the ship to be right yourself
if
he is wrong.
But a ship is not a human body; it is people working together with a degree of selflessness that doesn’t come easy-not to me, at least. The only thing that holds it together is a misty something called its
morale, something you hardly know it has until the ship loses it. I realized then that the Elsie had been losing hers for some time. First Doc Devereaux had died and then Mama O’Toole and both of those were body blows. Now we had lost the Captain and most of the rest… and the Elsie was falling to
pieces.
Maybe the new captain wasn’t too bright, but he was trying to stop it. I began to realize that it wasn’t just machinery breaking down or attacks from hostile natives that lost ships; maybe the worst hazard was some bright young idiot deciding that he was smarter than the Captain and convincing enough
others that he was right. I wondered how many of the eight ships that were out of contact had died proving that their captains were wrong and that somebody like me was right.
It wasn’t nearly enough
to be right.
I got so upset that I thought about going to the Captain and telling him I was wrong and what could I
do to help? Then I realized that I couldn’t do that, either. He had told me to stay in my room-no ‘if’s’ or
‘maybe’s.’ If it was more important to back up the Captain and respect his authority than anything else, then the only thing was to do as I had been ordered and sit tight.
So I did.
Kris brought me dinner, almost on time. Late that evening the speakers blared the usual warning, I lay
down and the, Elsie boosted off Elysia. But we didn’t go on, we dropped into an orbit, for we went into free fall right afterwards. I spent a restless night; I don’t sleep well when I’m weightless.
I was awakened by the ship going into light boost, about a half gravity. Kris brought
me breakfast but I didn’t ask what was going on and he didn’t offer to tell me. About the middle of the morning the ship’s
system called out: “Communicator Bartlett, report to the Captain.” It was repeated before I realized it meant me … then I jumped up, ran my shaver over my face, decided that my uniform would have to do, and hurried up to the cabin.
He looked up when I reported my presence. “Oh, yes. Bartlett, Upon investigation I find that there is
no reason to prefer charges. You are released from arrest and restored to duty. See Mr. Eastman.”
He looked back at his desk and I got sore. I had been seesawing between a feeling of consecrated
loyalty to the ship and to the Captain as the head thereof, and an equally strong desire to kick Urqhardt in the stomach. One kind word from him and I think I would have been his boy, come what may. As it was, I was sore.
“Captain!”
He looked up. “Yes?”
“I think you owe me an apology.”
“You do? I do not think so. I acted in the interest of the whole ship. However, I harbor no ill feelings, if that is of any interest to you.” He looked back at his work, dismissing me … as if
my
hard feelings, if
any, were of no possible importance.
So I got out and reported to Mr. Eastman. There didn’t seem to be anything else to do.
Mei-Ling was in the comm office, sending code groups. She glanced up and I noticed that she looked
tired. Mr. Eastman said, “Hello, Tom. I’m glad you’re here; we need you. Will you raise your telepartner, please?”
One good thing about having a telepath run the special watch list is that other people don’t seem to realize that the other end of each pair-the Earthside partner-is not a disembodied spirit. They eat and sleep and work and raise families, and they can’t be on call whenever somebody decides to send a message. “Is it an emergency?” I asked, glancing at the Greenwich and then at the ship’s clock, Vicky
wouldn’t check with me for another half hour; she might be at home and free, or she might not be.
“Perhaps not ‘emergency’ but ‘urgent’ certainly.”
So I called Vicky and she said she did not mind. (“Code groups, Freckle Face,”) I told her. (“So set your recorder on ‘play back.’ “)
“It’s quivering, Uncle Tom. Agitate at will.”
For three hours we sent code groups,
than which there is nothing more tedious. I assumed that it was
probably Captain Urqhardt’s report of what had happened to us on Elysia, or more likely his second
report after the LRF had jumped him for more details. There was no reason to code it so far as I was
concerned; I had been there-so it must be to keep it from our telepartners until LRF decided to release it. This suited me as I would not have relished passing all that blood and slaughter, in clear
language, to little Vicky.
While we were working the Captain came in and sat down with Mr. Eastman; I could see that they
were cooking up more code groups; the Captain was dictating and Eastman was working the encoding machine. Mei-Ling had long since gone. Finally Vicky said faintly, “Uncle Tom, how urgent are these anagrams? Mother called
me to dinner half an hour ago.
(“Hang on and I’ll find out.”) I turned to the Captain and Mr. Eastman, not sure of which one to ask.
But I caught Eastman’s eye and said, “Mr. Eastman, how rush is this stuff? We want to-”
“Don’t interrupt
us,” the Captain cut in. “Just keep on transmitting. The priority is not your concern.” “Captain, you don’t understand; I’m not speaking for myself. I was about to say-”
“Carry on with your work.”
I said to Vicky, (“Hold on a moment, hon.”) Then I sat back and said, “Aye aye, Captain. I’m perfectly
willing to keep on spelling eye charts all night. But there is nobody at the other end.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean it is dinner time and way past for my partner. If you want special duty at the Earthside end, you’d better coordinate with the LRF comm office. Seems to me that somebody has the watch list all mixed up.”
“I see.” As usual he showed no expression. I was beginning to think he was all robot, with wires instead of veins.
“Very well, Mr. Eastman, get Mr. McNeil and have him relieve Mr. Bartlett.” “Yes, Captain.”
“Excuse me, Captain…” “Yes, Bartlett?”
“Possibly you don’t know that Unc’s partner lives in Greenwich zone minus-two. It’s the middle of the night there-and she is an old lady, past seventy-five. I thought
maybe you would want to know.”
“Mmm, is that right, Eastman?” “I believe so, sir.”
“Cancel that last order. Bartlett, is your partner willing to go on again after an hour’s break for chow? Without clearing it with LRF?”
“I’ll see, sir.” I spoke to Vicky; she hesitated. I said, (“What is it, Freckle Face? A date with George? Say the word and I’ll tell Captain Bligh he can’t have you.”)
“Oh, it’s all right. I’ll throw the switch on George. I just wish they would give us something besides alphabet soup. Okay, one hour.”
(“One hour, sugar plum. Run and eat your salad. Mind your waistline.”) “My waistline is just fine, thank you.”
“Okay, Captain.”
“Very well. Please thank him for me.”
He was so indifferent about it that I added a touch of my own. “My partner is a girl, Captain, not a “him.” Her mother has placed a two-hour
curfew on it. Otherwise it must be arranged with LRF.”
“So. Very well.” He turned to Eastman. “Can’t we manage to coordinate these communication watches?”
“I’m trying, Captain. But it is new to me…and we have only three watchstanders left.”
“A watch in three should not be too difficult. Yet there always
seems to be some reason why we can’t transmit. Comment?”
“Well, sir, you saw the difficulty just now. It’s a matter of coordinating with Earth. Uh, I believe the special communicators usually arranged that themselves. Or one of them did.”
“Which one? Mr. McNeil?”
“I believe Bartlett usually handled it, sir.” “So. Bartlett?”
“I did, sir.”
“Very well, you have the job again. Arrange a continuous watch.” He started to get up.
How do you tell the Captain he can’t have his bucket of paint? Aye aye, sir. But just a minute, Captain-”
“Yes?”
“Do I understand you are authorizing me to arrange a continuous
watch with LRF? Signed with your
release number?”
“Naturally.”
“Well, what do I do if
they won’t agree to such long hours for the old lady? Ask for still longer hours
for the other two? In the case of my partner, you’ll run into parent trouble; she’s a young girl.”
“So. I can’t see why the home office hired such people.”
I didn’t say anything. If he didn’t know that you don’t hire
telepaths the way you hire butchers I wasn’t going to explain.
But he persisted. “Comment?”
“I have no comment, sir. You can’t get more than three or four hours a day out of any of them, except in extreme emergency. Is this one? If it is, I can arrange it without bothering the home office.”
He did not answer directly. Instead he said, “Arrange the best watch list you can. Consult with Mr. Eastman.” As he turned to leave I caught a look of unutterable weariness on his face and suddenly felt sorry for him. At least I didn’t want to swap jobs with him.
Vicky took a trick in the middle of the night, over Kathleen’s objections. Kathleen wanted to take it herself, but the truth was that she and I could no longer work easily without
Vicky in the circuit, at least not anything as difficult as code groups.
The Captain did not come in to breakfast and I got there late. I looked around and found a place by
Janet Meers. We no longer sat by departments-just one big horseshoe table, with the rest of the mess room arranged to look like a lounge, so that it would not seem so empty.
I was just digging into scrambled yeast on toast when Mr. Eastman stood up and tapped a glass for attention. He looked as if he had not slept for days. “Quiet, please. I have a message from the Captain.” He pulled out a sheet and started to read:
“ ‘Notice to All Hands: By direction of the Long Range Foundation the mission of this ship has been modified. We will remain in the neighborhood of Beta Ceti pending rendezvous with Foundation Ship
Serendipity. Rendezvous is expected in approximately one month. Immediately thereafter we will shape orbit for Earth.
“ ‘F. X. Urqhardt, commanding Lewis and Clark.’“
My jaw dropped. Why, the silent creeper! All the time I had been lambasting him in my mind he had
been arguing the home office into canceling our orders … no wonder he had used code; you don’t say in clear language that your ship is a mess and your crew has gone to pot. Not if you can help it, you don’t. I didn’t even resent that he had not trusted us freaks to respect the security of communications;
I wouldn’t have trusted myself, under the circumstances.
Janet’s eyes were shining… like a woman in love, or like a relativistic mathematician who has just found a new way to work a transformation. “So they’ve done it!” she said in a hushed voice.
“Done what?” I asked. She was certainly taking it in a big way; I hadn’t realized she was that anxious to get home.
“Tommie, don’t you see? They’ve done it, they’ve done it, they’ve applied irrelevance. Dr. Babcock
was
right.”
“Huh?”
“Why, it’s perfectly plain. What kind of a ship can get here in a month? An irrelevant ship, of course. One that is faster than light.” She frowned. “But I don’t see why it should take even a month. It shouldn’t take any time at all. It wouldn’t use time.”
I
said, “Take it easy, Janet. I’m stupid this morning-I didn’t have much sleep last night. Why do you say that ship…uh, the Serendipity … is faster than light? That’s impossible.”
“Tommie, Tommie … look, dear, if it was an ordinary ship, in order to rendezvous with us here, it would have had to have left Earth over sixty-three years ago.”
“Well, maybe it did.”
“Tommie! It couldn’t possibly-because that long ago nobody knew that we would be here now. How
could they?”
I figured back. Sixty-three Greenwich years ago… mmm, that would have been sometime during our
first peak. Janet seemed to be right; only an incredible optimist or a fortune teller would have sent a ship from Earth at that time to meet us here now. “I don’t understand it.”
“Don’t you see, Tommie? I’ve explained it to you, I know I have. Irrelevance. Why, you telepaths were the reason the investigation started; you proved that “simultaneity’ was an admissible concept … and the inevitable logical consequence was that time and space do not exist.”
I felt my head begin to ache. “They don’t? Then what is that we seem to be having breakfast in?” “Just a mathematical abstraction, dear. Nothing more.” She smiled and looked motherly. “Poor
‘Sentimental Tommie.’ You worry too much.”
I suppose Janet was right, for we made rendezvous with F. S. Serendipity twenty-nine Greenwich days later. We spent the time moseying out at a half gravity to a locus five billion
miles Galactic-north of Beta Ceti, for it appeared that the Sarah did not want to come too close to the big star. Still, at sixty- three light-years, five billion miles is close shooting-a very near miss. We also spent the time working like mischief to arrange and prepare specimens and in collating data. Besides that, Captain Urqhardt suddenly discovered, now that we were expecting visitors, that lots and lots of things had not been
cleaned and polished lately. He even inspected staterooms, which I thought was snoopy.
The Sarah had a mind reader aboard, which helped when it came time to close rendezvous.
She missed us by nearly two light-hours; then their m-r and myself exchanged coordinates (referred to Beta Ceti)
by relay back Earthside and got each other pinpointed in a hurry. By radar and radio alone we could have fiddled around
for a week-if we had ever made contact at all.
But once that was done, the Sarah turned out to be a fast ship, lively enough
to bug your
eyes out. She was in our lap, showing on our short-range radar, as I was reporting the coordinates she had just had to the Captain. An hour later she was made fast and sealed
to our lock. And she was a little ship. The Elsie had seemed huge when I first joined her; then after a while she was just the right size, or a little cramped for some purposes. But the Sarah wouldn’t have made a decent Earth-Moon
shuttle.
Mr. Whipple came aboard first. He was an incredible character to find in space; he even carried a briefcase. But he took charge at once. He had two men with him and they got busy in a small compartment in the cargo deck. They knew just what compartment they wanted; we had to clear
potatoes out of it in a hurry. They worked in there half a day, installing something they called a “null-
field generator,” working in odd clothes made entirely of hair-fine wires, which covered them like mummies. Mr. Whipple stayed in the door, watching while they worked and smoking a cigar-it was the first I had seen in three years and the smell of it made me ill. The relativists stuck close to him, exchanging excited comments, and so did the engineers, except that they looked baffled and slightly
disgusted. I heard Mr. Regato say, “Maybe so. But a torch is reliable. You can depend on a torch.”
Captain Urqhardt watched it all, Old Stone Face in person.
At last Mr. Whipple put out his cigar and said, “Well, that’s that, Captain. Thompson will stay and take
you in and Bjorkenson will go on in the Sarah. I’m afraid you will have to put up with me, too, for I am going back with you.”
Captain Urqhardt’s face was a gray-white. “Do I understand, sir, that you are relieving me of my command?”
“What? Good heavens, Captain, what makes you say that?”
“You seem to have taken charge of my ship…on behalf of the home office. And now you tell me that this man…er, Thompson-will take us in.”
“Gracious, no. I’m sorry. I’m not used to the niceties of field work; I’ve been in the home office too
long. But just think of Thompson as a … mmm, a sailing master for you. That’s it; he’ll be your pilot.
But no one is displacing you; you’ll remain in command until you can return home and turn over your
ship. Then she’ll be scrapped, of course.”
Mr. Regato said in a queer, high voice, “Did you say “scrapped,” Mr. Whipple?” I felt my stomach give a twist. Scrap the Elsie? No!
“Eh? I spoke
hastily. Nothing has been decided Possibly she will be kept as a museum. In fact, that is a good idea.” He took out a notebook and wrote in it. He put it away and said, “And now, Captain,
if you will, I’d like to speak to all your people. There isn’t much time.”
Captain Urqhardt silently led him back to the mess deck.
When we were assembled, Mr. Whipple smiled and said, “I’m not much at speechmaking. I simply want to thank you all, on behalf of the Foundation, and explain what we are doing. I won’t go into
detail, as I am not a scientist; I am an administrator, busy with the liquidation of Project Lebensraum,
of which you are part. Such salvage and rescue operations as this are necessary; nevertheless,
the Foundation is anxious to free the Serendipity, and her sister ships, the Irrelevant, the Infinity, and Zero, for
their proper work,
that is to say, their survey of stars in the surrounding space.”
Somebody gasped. “But that’s what we were doing!”
“Yes, yes, of course. But times change. One of the null-field ships can visit more stars in a year
than a torchship can visit in a century. You’ll be happy to know that the Zero working alone has located seven Earth-type planets this past month.”
It didn’t make me happy.
Uncle Alfred McNeil
leaned forward and said in a soft, tragic voice that spoke for all of us, “Just a moment, sir. Are you telling us that what we did … wasn’t necessary?”
Mr. Whipple looked startled. “No, no, no! I’m terribly sorry if I gave that impression. What you did was utterly necessary, or there would not be any null ships today. Why, that’s like saying that what Columbus did wasn’t necessary, simply because
we jump across oceans as if they were mud puddles nowadays.”
“Thank you, sir, “ Unc said quietly.
“Perhaps no one has told you just how indispensably necessary Project Lebensraum has been. Very
possibly-things have been in a turmoil around the Foundation for some time-I know I’ve had so little sleep myself that I don’t know what I’ve done and left undone. But you realize, don’t you, that without the telepaths among you, all this progress would not have taken place?” Whipple looked around.
“Who are they? I’d
like to shake hands with them. In any case-I’m not a scientist, mind you; I’m a lawyer-in any case, if we had not had it proved beyond doubt that telepathy is truly instantaneous, proof
measured over many light-years, our scientists might still be looking for errors in the sixth decimal
place and maintaining that telepathic signals do not propagate instantaneously but simply at a speed so great that its exact order was concealed by instrumental error. So I understand, so I am told. So you see,
your great work has produced wondrous
results, much greater than expected, even if they are not quite the results you were looking for.”
I was thinking that if they had told us just a few days sooner, Uncle Steve would still be alive. But he never did want to die in bed.
“But the fruition of your efforts,” Whipple went on, “did not show at once. Like so many things in
science, the new idea had to grow for a long time, among specialists … then the stupendous results
burst suddenly on the world. For myself, if anyone had told me six months ago that I would be out here among the stars today, giving a popular
lecture on the new physics, I wouldn’t have believed him. I’m not sure that I believe it now. But here I am. Among other things, I am here to help you get straightened
away when we get back home.” He smiled and bowed.
“Uh, Mr. Whipple,” Chet Travers asked, “just when will we get home?” “Oh, didn’t I tell you? Almost immediately … say soon after lunch.”
Posts Regarding Life and Contentment
Here are
some other similar posts on this venue. If you enjoyed this post, you
might like these posts as well. These posts tend to discuss growing up
in America. Often, I like to compare my life in America with the society
within communist China. As there are some really stark differences
between the two.
Posts about the Changes in America
America is
going through a period of change. Change is good… that is, after it
occurs. Often however, there are large periods of discomfort as the
period of adjustment takes place. Here are some posts that discuss this
issue.
More Posts about Life
I have
broken apart some other posts. They can best be classified about ones
actions as they contribute to happiness and life. They are a little
different, in subtle ways.
Stories that Inspired Me
Here are
reprints in full text of stories that inspired me, but that are nearly
impossible to find in China. I place them here as sort of a personal
library that I can use for inspiration. The reader is welcome to come
and enjoy a read or two as well.
Articles & Links
You’ll not
find any big banners or popups here talking about cookies and privacy
notices. There are no ads on this site (aside from the hosting ads – a
necessary evil). Functionally and fundamentally, I just don’t make money
off of this blog. It is NOT monetized. Finally, I don’t track you
because I just don’t care to.
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