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  Columnist: Ken Korczak

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Ouija + lucid dream = strange adventure

Posted on Tuesday, 22 April, 2008 | 28 comments
Columnist: Ken Korczak

[!gad]It was only a matter of time before my 40 years of Ouija Board practice collided with my 30-year hobby of lucid dreaming. In the lucid dream state, I often meet strange beings and entities of amazing variety. It’s always interesting to try to contact these dream entities later with the Ouija board while I am awake. Today, I tell you about such an encounter. In a previous column, I introduced UM readers to The Restaurant on the Edge of Time. This is an establishment which exists only in the dream world. If you want to read about my first visit to The Restaurant on the Edge of Time, please click here.

From here, I’ll refer to the Restaurant on the Edge of Time as The RET. To get to The RET on this particular occasion, I employed extreme lucid dream inducement techniques, which involved several days and nights of rigorous dream deprivation. I’ll just say briefly that my dream deprivation methods involve a number of strenuous measures -- which I won’t describe here because these can be dangerous and I don’t recommend them to anyone else.

About 12 hours before I let myself sleep again, I undergo a process called “front end loading.” This is intense immersion in a particular subject matter that I want to dream about. For example, if I want to have a lucid dream about traveling to Mars, I spend 12 hours absorbed in books, pictures and videos involving Mars. If I’m lucky, I will dream about Mars that night, and with some practice, I can trigger the lucid state -- and proceed to have a great time exploring Mars in my dream world!

But this time I focused my efforts on getting to my favorite pan-dimensional eatery -- The RET! Because I had been depriving myself of dream sleep for several days, I quickly found myself within a thrilling “flying dream.” Soaring above a magnificent mountain range, I realized I was dreaming, and triggered myself to “awaken” within my dream. Success! I was now lucid within the dream state and could take an active part in my dream world!

Next, I concentrated on The RET. On cue, a swirling vortex exploded open in the sky. I was sucked into this dimensional cyclone, and sent hurling along at unimaginable speed through a tunnel of screaming stars streaking by in an extraordinary blur.

Then: “WHUMP!” Touchdown! An instant of disorientation, and then my vision clears. Success again! I was standing smack dab in the center of the Restaurant on the Edge of Time! No matter how many times I make it to The RET, I’m always exhilarated! There I am, in a dream world, a place where the laws of physics do not apply, where my mind can produce magic, and best of all, a place that serves the most savory, delicious food in the known universe.

As usual, I was greeted by the achingly lovely waitress. Her beauty is so profound, it’s like a radiating force, which is troublesome because it can wreak havoc on my ability to stay in command of the lucid state. I will skip describing the usual pleasantries and routine witty banter the lovely waitress and I always share -- because I want to get to the most interesting incident on this particular journey to The RET.

I will first say, however, that I ate a fabulous meal. On this visit, I polished off three rashers of crispy boar’s bacon, a bowl of giant elk meat stewed with barley and pearl onions, a pepper salad of valor leaves, kale and leaks, a golden crust of pod bread slathered with sweet butter, and for desert, a mixed dish of sloe berries and quinces in a crunchy sugar glaze. For drink, I enjoyed a pot of burning-weed tea. The after-dinner aperitif was a frosted goblet of Million Year Wine, an exotic elixir which tastes as if infused with the light of an ancient sun.

Upon finishing my meal, I began looking around to see who else was dining in the dream world of The RET. A few tables away, I noticed a group of three men, cloaked like monks, shoulders hunched over wooden bowls, eating in silence. I called over the angelic waitress and asked if she knew the three men.

She said: “Oh, that’s the Triad of the Nine. They’re weird, to say the least.”

“Where are they from?” I asked. (Note: Since this was my dream, this might seem an odd question because the Triad of the Nine ostensibly would be generated by my own mind, and thus the answer to my question might be: “From your own brain.”) But the waitress said instead, “They hale from the 12th Aeon, or so they say.”

I was intrigued, and against the advice of the waitress, who said I should leave them alone, I decided to speak to this mysterious Triad of the Nine. After all, this was my dream, so how much trouble could I really get into?

I walked over to the table where the Triad of the Nine sat hunched over bowls of a lumpy gruel, disgusting as pig slop. They kept their head down as they spooned the swill past twisted, pimply lips into ugly mouths.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," I said. "I was wondering if I could have a word with you?"

The Triad of the Nine immediately stopped eating, and they all rose from their seats in unison. They moved as if they were aspects of a single entity. They stood facing me, and I must say, their faces were grim and terrible to behold. I was more than a little intimidated, but I kept my cool.

I continued: "I was wondering, since this is my dream, I'm thinking that each of you must represent some aspect of my personality. What can you tell me about yourselves, and thus, myself?"

At this, and again in unison, they reached up with boney, gnarly, leathery hands, grabbed their heads, removed them, and placed them on the table. The heads on the table continued to keep eye contact with me. Even though they had removed their heads, the Triad of the Nine still had heads on the their shoulders, but now their faces were normal looking. Instead of three ugly men, there were now plain, if not handsome faces, that might blend in on any street in America.

But the Triad of the Nine was not done. They proceeded to remove their second set of heads, and placed them on the table along with the first set. So there were now six heads on the table, all still very much alive, eyes blinking, faces thoughtful. When I looked back at the Triad of the Nine, they still had heads -- but now each face was stunningly handsome -- no, they were more than handsome -- they were godly -- each of them easily a 100 times more handsome than any Hollywood movie star.

The Triad of the Nine then removed these beautiful heads and placed them on the table with the others, so now nine living heads rested on the table. They had finally run out of heads. At least I now understood their name -- three bodies, nine heads. The bodies stood at attention behind the table. Atop each body was an moist, exposed brain -- each perched upon the stem of a spinal cord poking up from the neck and shoulders.

I realize this was a dream, but still, this was exceedingly weird. I was also perplexed and clawing at my mind to discern meaning from this eldritch display. I gathered my courage and began to ask questions.

“Please, Triad of the Nine, explain to me what kind of entity you are, and if you are symbolic representation of some aspect of my own psyche, help me understand the relevance of what I am seeing.”

The row of ugly heads spoke first, in perfect unison.

“Kenneth, what game do you play?” they said. “Who are you?”

“I am the dreamer, and you are the dream,” I said. “Am I correct?”

The three grotesque heads began to cackle, shaking the table as their rheumy eyes rolled in their heads and their lips flapped. Mottled tongues like slices of rotting liver slathered around over three sets of brown, broken teeth. Then they said:

“There is room for another. The Triad would become a Quad! Step forward, place your head on the table!”

I declined the offer. Even though this was my dream, and anything was theoretically possible, I did not fancy the notion of removing my dream head from my dream body to be absorbed by the Triad of the Nine. Rather, I addresses my next question to the middle set of heads.

“I now address the second tier of craniums! Tell me, what is your purpose, who are you, what are your thoughts?”

The middle heads spoke in concert and with mild voices. “Yes, Ken, hello! Well met! Pay no heed to our lower brothers. Place your head with us! We yearn to achieve the Quad! Here you will find reason. We call a spade a spade, and broker no guff. We like the cut of your jib! We do not suffer fools gladly!”

Although I deemed the statement of the middle three more -- level headed? -- I found their overuse of bland cliché curious. They seemed locked in a prepackaged point of view. There reliance on “boilerplate” language did not reflect well upon them, I thought. I also declined their offer to add my head to middle triad. Moving on, I next spoke to the three beautiful heads.

“I now address the top three heads of the Triad of the Nine! I must say, your appearance is stunning! Your pulchritude is magnificent! Who or what are you? What do you represent?”

The three beautiful heads responded: “Oh Kenny, Kenny, Kenny -- little golden Kenny boy -- little Kenny boy at play in the fields of Elysium! Oh, little boy, little Kenny boy, golden little Kenny boy, how do you fare, how do you love?”

“I fare as I go,” I responded. “I love according to my nature. But I’m curious, Beautiful Triad, why did you not ask me to join my head to your Triad as did your brothers? Do you not crave the Quad?”

They responded: “Oh little Kenny boy, precious little golden boy! Little Kenny boy at play in the fields of Elysium! Oh! Golden little Kenny boy! Oh Kenny, carry the sky upon your shoulders! Oh, Kenny, little Golden boy, bless the soil beneath your soles! Golden in your way, gleaming as you go! Oh little golden Kenny boy, you may answer your own question, oh precious boy!”

I’m sure all my readers here will agree that this was an odd statement, to say the least.

Unfortunately, as the Beautiful Triad spoke, I began to feel myself losing control of my lucid state. I raised my hand close to my face, stared hard at it until my dream reality solidified somewhat, but I could tell I would not be able to hold onto the dream much longer. I considered spinning, (a way to magnify the effect of a lucid dream), but was afraid the effect would be too intense.

Instead, I bowed low to the sublime heads of the Triad and said, “Your comments are certainly profound and give me much to contemplate. I would speak more with you, but I fear my time to depart is near.”

“Get the hell out of here,” said the ugly heads.

“As you will,” said the middle, plain heads.

“Joy in your going, ecstasy in your return! Farewell, Oh precious boy, little Kenny golden boy, precious boy, golden boy at play in the fields of Elysium!”

With this final statement, I began to feel the focus of my reality waver -- the Restaurant on the Edge of Time was falling out of phase with my consciousness -- I looked over at the waitress of heart-rending beauty and saw her blowing me a kiss of farewell -- and a moment later, I awoke in my bed back at home in Minnesota. I quickly grabbed the pen and notepad by my bed and wrote down the entire drama of the dream before I could fall asleep again and forget most of the journey.

In the morning, I would call my friend Brian and arrange an Ouija session -- I wanted to see if I could find out more about the Triad of the Nine from the platform of my waking mind, and with the help of a communication channel opened up via the Ouija.


The following evening, Brian agreed to come over and help me contact the Triad of the Nine. Our favorite recorder Darcy was not available, but her sister, Lyssa-Melissa, a petite woman, pretty as a hummingbird, delicate as a tiger lily, and with an exotic voice like a musical rattle, agreed to sit in with pen and notepad. Others present were my two cats, Skrayling and Trantor.

And so the session began:

Opening Statement: Greetings! It is I, the dream traveler Ken Korczak, and my friends Brian, Lyssa-Melissa, Skrayling and Trantor! We are seeking communication for that entity which is known as The Triad of the Nine, dwellers of the 12th Aeon!

Without hesitation, the oracle swiftly began to spell words.


(Note: I assumed from the tenor of these remarks that we were speaking with the lowest tier of the Triad, the crude, ugly heads.)

Question/response: Greeting, Triad! I am happy to speak with you again! I still decline to offer my head. At any rate, I am now materialized in an aspect of reality we call physical reality. I cannot remove my head here as I might in the dream world.


Answer: Well, I fail to see why you would like to add my head to yours. For example, you just described me as having a bloated ego and compared me to a maggot. You seem to hold me in low esteem, yet would accept me to form your quad. Why?


Question: Again, I decline. Tell me, may I speak with your brothers, the second tier of heads? I would ask them some questions.


Answer: I find your attitude curious. Are not the second and third tier of heads part of the same system of your own being? After all, you share host bodies with them, you are the Triad of the Nine. Do not all of you comprise some kind of composite being? In effect, the six other heads are your brothers in one body, are they not?


Question: From my point of view, your tier seem not only grotesque in appearance, but your attitudes are also far less than gracious, if not hostile and insulting. This would indicate to me a lower level of development, rather than a superior one. Granted, this is an opinion based on a bald-faced value judgment. But, what do you think?


Question: I have the strange feeling that this is your idea of a compliment. But please tell me, what kind of being is the Triad of the Nine? In my reality, there are no entities composed of nine heads sharing three bodies. I am curious to understand what nature of being you are.


(I was getting frustrated with speaking to the bottom tier of heads, and thought I could learn more from the second tier of heads -- even if they might be bland conformists. So I decided to force my way past the bottom tier of the Triad of the Nine).

Question: I continue my communications with the Triad of the Nine. However, all communications from the Lowest Base Tier will be rejected! I wish to speak only with the Second Tier of the Triad. If the bottom, or base tier, continues to monopolize the conversation, this will only further reduce the chances that my head will someday join any Triad, and thus you have nothing to gain. So please hold your moldy tongues and allow the second tier to come forth. We now address ourselves to the middle Triad! Will you speak with us?


Question: Greetings! I’m sorry, but I must also decline your generous request that I add my head to yours -- if for no other reason than I don’t know how to do that. Please don’t take it personally. But I have many questions for you. Do you agree with your brothers that, without them, you would be a group of spineless sycophants without a fundamental base?




Question: You latter comment seems more worthy of your lower brothers. However, I am surprised that, although all members of the Triad comprise a single entity, all of you seem to have a certain contempt for one another. Would it not be better for all of you to act in greater harmony for the good of the entire Triad of the Nine?


Question: To be frank, I find your reliance on the use of hackneyed language and cliché indicates a certain lack of creative thought or originality. I am beginning to think that your brothers on the bottom represent perhaps some lower, animalistic aspects of nature, while you represent perhaps a somewhat grounded philosophy, and the sublime heads at the top represent a kind of wild and abstract creativity. What do you think of my analysis?


Question: Perhaps if you are more forthcoming in your answers, I will give stronger consideration to joining my head to yours. Answer me this: It is said that you dwell in the 12th Aeon. Where or what is the 12th Aeon? Does it represent another time or dimension?


(Note: At this point, my cat Trantor, who had been perched on a bench near us, and who had been watching the planchette glide back and forth across the board, decided to attack -- he launched himself in a great arc of fur and claws at the planchette, landed dead center to send the Ouija board flying. The planchette clattered to the floor, where Trantor lunged at it and sent it spinning under a sofa.)

We were extremely surprised -- we had been so concentrated on the session, Trantor’s sudden intrusion was like snapping out of a trance. But we also gave the event serious thought. Of course, all actions in the Universe are synchronous. Also, over the years, the Ouija entity MOMMY has told me many times that my cats are members of what she calls the powerful “7th Guild” and that they have a very complex agenda, and so their actions should not be taken lightly.

This caused me to speculate as to whether I should take this as a sign to end the session here, and it was an easy decision to do so -- perhaps mostly because we were tired from channeling a lot of information already -- but also, the actions of Trantor, as a member of the 7th Guild, should be given consideration.

Let me just explain, for those of you who are wondering about the cryptic statement of the Triad about the description of the 12th Aeon -- In my lucid dream world, in addition to the normal colors of the spectrum, red, orange, yellow, etc., are four additional colors which cannot be perceived in our waking world. These additional four colors are thul, sporgan, mooltana, and gratwin.

What I later learned from the Triad was that there was a period in their universe of origin that was dominated by something similar to what we call the “red shift” in our universe. As you probably know, when we look out into the universe, we can determine if a star or galaxy is moving away from us by observing the red shift in the object’s light spectrum. In this way we have determined that our universe is expanding. Every object in the universe appears to be flinging away from every other object in the universe -- perhaps as ignited by the Big Bang, or perhaps not.

Now, furthermore, the four special colors in the dream world have an additional dimension or quality in which they appear to either recede away from you, or come toward you. The color thul, for example, can appear to recede away from you, so I call this thul-recede, A thul color that appears to be coming toward you, I call thul-forward.

The Triad, then, seemed to be saying that the 12th Aeon was a vast period of time demarcated by apparent switch from a physical or observational measurement of thul-recede regime to gratwin-forward. I realize this is a lot of boring cosmology, so I won’t include here the detailed description of the nature of the 12th Aeon -- but just suffice it to say that the Triad of the Nine claims to be an entity that has its existence based in the 12th Aeon.

In my next column, I will continue my Ouija encounter with the Triad of the Nine, including a discussion with the top three heads -- the Beautiful Triad. I will include some amazing details abut the exact nature of the Triad's true existence -- what they are, how they came to be, and something about their life in the 12th Aeon, including how it is that they are able to travel to the Restaurant at the Edge of Time, as I do, and why they go there to eat.

Ken’s blog: http://www.ironghost.wordpress.coma

Article Copyright© Ken Korczak - reproduced with permission.

Ken Korczak is the author of Minnesota Paranormala:

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