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  1. image.png.7dcd7479c2daf48862d7f02266854d17.png

    Prayer for the dead
    (community day of remembrance)

    Lord, today we pray for those who have gone before us,
    those we know and those we do not, our Christians brothers and sisters,
    and all those who have died seeking love, truth, and justice in this world. 
    For those who have loved truly, yet need further mercy,
    and healing, such is the work of your grace.

    Each moment is yours, as is each soul,
    all are known and loved by you, such is your heart,
    eternal, and infinite in love
    and compassion for all….beyond
    understanding, who can grasp it.

    So, Lord, we place all before you, their lives,
    their sufferings, their losses, sins, and virtues,
    for all is seen by your loving gaze.


    All that is their workmanship will be evident because the Day
    will bring it to light. It will be revealed with fire, and the fire will prove the quality of each man’s work.
    If what he has built survives, he will receive a reward. If it is burned up, he will suffer loss.
    He himself will be saved, but only as if through the flames.
    (1 Corinthians 3:14)

    These flames are your mercy, how deep it cuts, bringing out
    all that needs healing and mercy, self-knowledge is a painful journey,
    yet necessary for our union with your Infinite purity and love.

    Teach us all to have compassion
    as well on the living, deepen our understanding
     of the struggle we all have, and the weight of what that implies….
    .give us all empathy for one another, and leave off judgment,
    for only you can judge truly, for you see all and understand all……
    human vision is limited and in judging, we wound our souls deeply,
     for only you are the true judge.

    So we pray for all, no one left out since all souls
    are each loved uniquely by you. Amen—Br. MD

  2. geminigirly43

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    When i lie down to go to sleep and my eyes r closed the white part of my eyes roll to the front of my face and i see a whole seniero its like a play or even a skit and the whole event is like its in a bubble and im watching it and its usally about people i care about or about people i know and these skits ill call them its either about death or bad events thats gonna happen to them and i see and watch the whole thing how it happens, like whose in it who did it , but i dont know when the events happen .and after its all done i fade away and fall asleep. and i have other things happen dont know what to call it but...i could be standing next to someone and my chest gets completly hot like on fire and ill just blurt out, oh my god! something bads gonna happen to you ! but i dont know what or when.                or i can have insticts of money like in my visions when im sleeping i see like scratch offs the winners on what im gonna win and what the scratch off is gonna look like like i had one where the scratch off was a bingo and it was 4 corners and i had bought a bingo one time and it was a 4 corner bingo but i thought i seen this before it happened .now these visions im having dont happen all the time but when they do there very true,powerful,i dont know weather to call it a gift,  or ???? so if someone out there has similarities please blog me and tell me what the heck is happening to me oh and this my first blog ever i dont know much abot blogging or internet or computers for that matter so please be patient with me learning as i go... just need some input thanks                                                                                                                                                                                         Geminigirly

  3. Carlos Allende
    Latest Entry

    ‘Some time ago’, I decided to come here to Hell to rescue the soul of my girlfriend Eurydice. She of the steep brow, atypical nose and distinctive jawline. I was young and naive, and it was almost inevitable I'd become trapped. 
    Famously, you're allowed to take with you one physical object when crossing over. I'd been watching a lot of Marx Brothers films and was fascinated at how all the chaos would pause while  Harpo brought forth a musical interlude with his Harp. So, quite simply, I decided to take with me a Celtic Lyre made of strange, non-specified metal, shining like spilt petrol on a garage forecourt. The plan was, I would play it before the King of Hell and thus persuade him to free Eurydice through sheer pathos alone.
    This is how naive I was: I didn't have the slightest understanding of how someone actually descends to Hell. Some people report that it's like crawling through a barely-human-size cave and emerging into an arid desert. Others, that suddenly, with the act of blinking, you find yourself in a fiery pit surrounded by similarly damned souls. Perhaps these phenomenon are real enough for the people experiencing them: I would suggest it's simply their minds creating an explicable narrative for something which is wholly unknowable and insidious beyond words. 
    This place isn't about pain and torment. You feel pain and torment, certainly, but they're only a means to an end. Some time ago, the King of Hell came to a highly political, perhaps even logical understanding that consciousness is a spiritual cul-de-sac. For anyone who arrives in his kingdom, only relatively small amounts of self-awareness will be tolerated. Eventually, it will be burned away altogether.
    My lyre, I kept it under my bed. I never learnt to play it and eventually it broke down into tiny pieces -- though how exactly this could happen with high-tensile metal is a mystery. 
    But I’ve never stopped loving Eurydice. Indeed, the search has never properly ended, though I’ve no idea what would happen if ever we came face-to-face again. I’m not the same man she knew. There are men who carry shame and weakness, and then there's me. Sometimes I get the distinct feeling that she was able to leave this place on her own, and if that’s true, more power to her. 
    It’s not as if I’m not a hateful, monstrous hypocrite. Within a few decades of my arrival in Hell, my marriage to Nessa could easily have lasted forever and been called ‘true love’, except for a few strange missteps. Anna was sweet and lovely. Rosey was wise, and scintillating, and she absorbed strange new intellectual ideas as easily as you and I might breathe. 
    More recently, my relationship with Starla ended on such bitter terms it made my head spin.   
    And what of Billie, the next one? She looked eerily similar to Starla, right down to a ‘space nebula’ tattoo on her shoulder. What does it all mean?
    All I know is that I need Eurydice more than ever. The line of her jaw, the fierce shape of her mouth. Soulful eyes set beneath a stormy brow. In Hell, people try to make their own little religions, and scrape tiny bits of meaning from pure horror. Eurydice is beyond all that, and her companionship would be like a rocket ship escaping clean into space.

  4. Simbi Laveau
    Latest Entry

    I had no idea that a heart could break into so many pieces, and still beat. 

     

  5. Tales from the Mist

    image.png.235277d72b22da1fa08acbe35477cb45.png

    She can feel the magick of the night

    the moon a sliver of cold white light

    in a star-speckled vastness that no one owns

    where mystery stays and finds a home

     

    Mists so thick as they tumble in

    from a storm-tossed sea she can hear the din

    of those monster waves coming crashing down

    on the windswept shores of a sleepy little town

     

    Of a winter white night there can be no doubt

    it’s a time when most choose to not go out

    the dogs lay sleeping and the children doze

    everybody bundled in their warmest nighttime clothes

     

    Save one little gypsy, looks out at the night

    from her rumble tumble caravan, it’s such a sight!

    Brightly colored, brightly lit, she’s been from sea to sea

    fortunes and divinity, only she can see

    and the road never ends, and the nights are long

    and she makes it through, day to day

    with a prayer and a song

     

     

    © Goddess of the Mist

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

  6. BROWNS VALLEY PARANORMAL INVESTIGATION
    By Paul Dale Roberts, HPI's Esoteric Detective
    Halo Paranormal Investigations
    www.cryptic916.com/
    Sacramento Paranormal Help
    www.facebook.com/HaloParanormalInvestigations/
    Email: jazmaonline@gmail.com
    Sacramento Paranormal Haunted Hotline: 916 203 7503

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    VIDEOS FROM INVESTIGATION:
    www.youtube.com/watch?v=zTrBuqWeVOQ&feature;=youtu.be
    www.youtube.com/watch?v=EDl1onhwpo8&feature;=youtu.be
    www.youtube.com/watch?v=koyvKSEWHok&feature;=youtu.be
    www.youtube.com/watch?v=9abMPHVQgsc&feature;=youtu.be

    I get a lot of calls from clients that make claim that their home is haunted and the home in Browns Valley is no exception.  On my paranormal hotline I received several calls that the Manlove Mansion in Sacramento is haunted.  With so many calls about the Manlove Mansion, I had to check things out.  Looking at the home, it looks haunted and that is probably why there are rumors of it being haunted.  Walking around outside of the home, I attempted many EVP sessions and obtained no EVPs.  If the place is haunted, I usually can get EVPs within the first 30 minutes.  I never entered this home, but there was no need to, ghosts hang out inside a home and outside of a home.  If there was ghosts there, I would have gotten some kind of EVP evidence.  Today is a strange day, received a call from Michael Robinson from Fat Pig Productions in Shreveport, Louisiana.  Michael tells me that Fat Pig Productions promotes local rappers. Michael claims he was walking down a sidewalk in downtown Louisiana and saw a man that looked like Danny Harold Rolling aka the Gainesville Ripper.  Michael says that he knows exactly what Danny Rolling looks like, because he kept up with the case, since Danny Rolling was born in Shreveport.  As the man that looked like Danny Rolling walked towards him, he noticed that this man had a 1000 yard stare, as if he did not see Michael.  Michael then noticed that this man started walking faster towards him and as he got close their shoulders would connect and the man's shoulder had no substance and went right through Michael's body.  Michael freaked out and wondered what just happened, when he looked back, the man was gone.  Michael believes that this was truly the Gainesville Ripper and wants an investigation of the street in which he saw this apparition.  I got Michael in touch with a few groups in Louisiana to assist him with his strange sighting.  Now that I received this strange paranormal hotline call, I am more than enthusiastic to investigate the home in Browns Valley.  SPECIAL NOTE: WRITTEN IN REAL TIME. 

    INITIAL REPORT:
    OPEN INVESTIGATION: Date to be there: February 9, 2019 Saturday. Time to be there: 2pm: xxxxxx (occupant) is being harassed by 2 entities that constantly touch her. It is so upsetting to her, that she started crying over the phone. Address to be at: Browns Valley, CA.

    Okay, HPI Investigators, if you didn't go to the investigation, you didn't miss anything.  No EVPs were captured.  This turned out to be a confidential investigation.   Deanna Jaxine Stinson was right on the mark on her walk through.  She picked up the energy of a dark haired male in the bedroom.  Deanna thought he looked Italian.  Come to find out the occupant says that her father had dark hair and was Italian.  Deanna could not estimate his height, so the occupant says that Deanna didn't get her reading right.  Huh?  Just because Deanna couldn't estimate his height?  For all we know he was floating in the air.  Last night, Deanna and I, were walking our dogs Hi-Pee and Hannah near and around Jaime's Cafe at Laguna West in Elk Grove and Deanna picks up on a little boy ghost near the water fountain.  I snap a picture and exactly where Deanna was pointing was a large designer orb.  Back to the Browns Valley Investigation.  Occupant says she was psychically attacked.  Occupant felt something was attached to her, connected to her spine.  The occupant says ever since she had the attachment, she has been seeing a doctor and has gained many medical bills.  Occupant claims she has seen light beings, UFOs, flying orbs and been flashed in the face with a yellow light.  Occupant believes the demonic attachment started when she received an email and a phone call from someone she was communicating online with, in regard to UFOs.  Occupant's husband and children believe its all in her imagination.  In fact her husband didn't even want us at their home.  But, to appease his wife, he allowed it.  

    Occupant claims on one particular night she saw a Torus Field in the sky above her house.  The Torus Field was in the shape of a doughnut.  The occupant started crying as she described being raped by an incubus and a smelly small demon went inside her body.  Deanna picked up on the energy of a red haired girl in the house and the occupant acted like she didn't know what Deanna was talking about. Then out came the occupant's daughter and guess what?  Her daughter has red hair.  Now I am telling you that Deanna is picking up the energy of living people in the house and of recent relatives that are now deceased.  By saying Deanna is picking up the energy, does not mean that there are ghosts in the house.  Deanna being a psychic medium is merely picking up the energy deposits of the living and the dead.  NO EVPS were captured in this home.  Deanna describes the occupant's mother to a tee.  She picks up on the deceased mother's energy in a bedroom and come to find out the mother's urn is in the bedroom.  Deanna had no idea the urn was there.  Deanna says the mother has light hair and the occupant thought Deanna said she had white hair and did not give Deanna the credit of picking up on the mother's energy.  As we talked with the occupant, it almost seemed like she was having fantasies of sexual encounters with the incubus, a fallen angel and ETs who enjoy touching her all over.  This investigation just became weird.  Deanna explained to the occupant about the Crown Top of the Head which affects your upper skull and cerebral cortex.  The occupant described having these ailments and Deanna went into detail with the occupant about her chakra.  Also, Deanna explained to her about the solar plexus - between the naval and base of the sternum that was affecting her pancreas.  The occupant wanted a blessing of the home, but was too scared that she would be ridiculed by her husband and children.  I told her how to self bless her home and that if she felt like she had an attachment to get a full submersion baptism (a basic form of exorcism) to get rid of the attachment.  She agrees and says that she will do this.

    What really blew my mind is how Deanna was right on the mark in describing the occupant's living and deceased family members and the occupant wanted something else.  The occupant seemed to enjoy talking about her sexual fantasies with a possible fallen angel and seemed to enthusiastic to tell us more details.  Deanna looks at me and I look at Deanna....time to go.  Case closed.  My thoughts.  One word: Delusional.  Deanna says...an energy block.

  7. The Wistman
    Latest Entry

    5c59d29b46e8f_Tondo_Minotaur_London_E4_MAN.jpg.5545645f4e630e8a13112cd2c77e6622.jpg

     

    Once I saw a Minotaur

    peeking through my bedroom door.

    Then burst my most potent scream

    I thought, however nothing more

    I heard but hooves and breathy steam.

     

    Now why would that be so?  How could

    panic mute to hooves on wood,

    constricting or convulsing that

    defensive instinct of childhood

    to vocalize alarm?  Combat

     

    comes to children hard, it seems,

    coalescing in bad dreams.

    And something else, something quite sad

    which every day my life redeems:

    the bull-man wasn’t really bad.

     

                                                 ---  TW

    .

  8. Simbi Laveau
    Latest Entry

    Happy New Year Folks 

    Long time no see. 

     

    Simbi

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  9. and then
    Latest Entry

    I've been thinking a lot, lately about my country and the path we seem to be on.  It's difficult not to become overwhelmed and depressed over the changes I see occurring daily.  I try to remind myself that a large part of the bad news is generated as propaganda but not all of it is.  This past week, the New York State Senate passed a law into their Constitution that allows a baby to be killed the day before it is due.  It also allows a provider to end that baby's life even if it survives the abortion attempt and is born alive.  The usual suspects on the Left vociferously defend the law by putting the best possible face on it.  They point to the provisions about that decision being made due to birth defects but in truth, we all know that once this is commonly accepted within the abortion industry, there will be no penalties for those who exterminate a viable life for the sake of convenience for the mother.  I made some statements in anger when I heard of this decision and even heard applause on the Senate floor upon its passage.  I just want to make it clear that I don't hate New Yorkers as a group.  I don't even hate those who voted for and cheered the passage of this abomination.  I AM crushed and sad that any pace in America would pass such a law.  Illinois seems to be getting in on the same action by attempting to pass laws that allow what is basically infanticide.  

    There are situations where a mother's life is truly at risk and as such, terminating a pregnancy, while horrible, is still preferable.  The truth is that those situations are statistically VERY rare compared to the numbers of babies who are snuffed out simply because they'd be a burden on a young woman and her partner.  The issue has always been polarizing and people cannot accept the goodwill that exists on each side.  I believe that any legislator that votes pro-life should also stand up for helping to care for those unwanted babies.  I think our nation has become so morally bankrupt that our future is sealed and it won't be pretty.  When we fall, nationally, we will deserve it.  We will be without excuse.  If we can be so callous to the most innocent among us, what mercy do we deserve?  

    God's will be done, the sooner the better.  We have become a habitation of every evil thing known to mankind.  We ALL are responsible.

  10. Alan Copeland

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    Recent Entries

    Bill Eever
    Latest Entry

    Hello everyone

    My name is Alan, I am 71 years old and I live in Tiverton Devon with my partner Jenny. I have worked all my life since the age of 15 as a carpenter. In my life I have had a number of experiences which although not mind boggling in themselves seem to defy any logical explanation, they are also different from each other in that they do not share a common thread or theme. The first one occurred  at age 15 and the last at about age 57. Only I can vouch for my own honesty  sincerity and integrity when describing these occurrences.                                                                                        I have an excellent long term memory and have often thought of these events as years went by, I would like to share them with you now, my reasons for doing so are to initiate in people the belief that we as human beings are not alone in our lives and existence and that when our lives and existence on this earth ends that that does not mean the end of our spiritual existance. My experiences have instilled in me an unshakeable and absolute knowledge that these lives that we live and share are just a small part of a much longer journey to who knows what or where. I welcome all comments both positive or critical.

    When I was 14 my grandfather  died, this was my dad's  dad. My grandparents lived about half an hour by bus from my home.  Along with my parents, my younger brother and four younger sisters, I would visit my grandparents house every Sunday afternoon without fail to meet up with my three uncles and one Aunty plus my cousin Peter who is one year older than me. It was always a happy time and after Sunday tea we would return home by 7pm.

    One Friday afternoon I was at my grandparents house, I can not remember why. It was most unusual as it was a school day and only a matter of months before I left school for the last time. For the last hour of this visit my grandfather and myself sat side by side on the front doorstep, although I do not remember the details I know we talked almost non stop, it was a happy hour spent with him, my grandfather was very fond of me and always made a fuss of me. We were just passing time waiting for the 82 bus to Windy Nook which was only a ten minute walk from my home. About five minutes  before I left my grandfather pressed a sixpence into my hand and said " There you are son, you can get yourself some sweets " soon after that I was gone, I did not know that I would never see him again and made the uneventful journey home.

    Two days later, it was Sunday morning about 10.30 and my parents were beginning the early preparations for Sunday lunch. Two of my dads younger  brothers my uncle Norman and uncle Alan arrived unexpectedly and clearly in distress, they told my dad that their dad had died of a suspected heart attack, my grandad was sixty three when he died. I remember very little of the rest of the day except that I was left to look after my younger siblings while my parents went away with my two uncles, returning a few hours later. When my grandads funeral took place the adults decided that I should not attend as it would be to distressing for me, I was hugely relieved I could not have imagined myself going to anyones funeral much less my own grandad.  After a couple of weeks things returned to normal and continued to be so for several months until I left school three weeks before my fifteenth birthday.

    Two days after leaving school I started  work as an apprentice carpenter, although I had to wait until my 16th birthday to begin my official five year apprenticeship. I loved the learning process and the job itself, I still do and still work now fifty six years later. 

    After the death of my grandfather  the weekly  visits to my grandmothers house hand come to an abrupt end. Several months went by, I would guess about eight, I resumed the visits on my own. I had changed from a fourteen year old schoolboy  into a more confident and muscular  teenager a few months from my sixteenth birthday, these changes were the result of spending my days working with men who were teaching me my trade. I admired and respected them a lot and they responded well to my obvious willingness to learn, the work was physically  demanding  too, carrying long roofing timbers and sheets of plywood was an everyday occurrence and I loved all of it. It was a very happy time for me, outside of work playing football and reading were my two main passions.

    It was in this relaxed and carefree scenario that I resumed my visits  to my grandmothers house on Sundays, but now the reason for going was to spend time with my cousin Peter as well as visiting my grandmother. I had no unease or qualms at all about resuming these visits and looked forward to them every week  I had quickly adjusted to the passing away of my grandfather and accepted it as part of lifes natural cycle. I think it took about six weeks after he died to adjust to the fact that I would never see him again  and I did feel the loss. I regarded him as someone who had cared a lot about me. However when I resumed my visits I was in carefree mode with no concerns at all. Since the age of about ten or eleven I had also been part of a group of five close friends we did a lot together  such as caddying at the local golf course, football, taking up archery and making our own bows and arrows as well as in recent months collectively  taking an interest in girls.

    Since resuming my visits  to my grandmothers  house I had made four or five weekly visits, all of them relaxed and uneventful. A pattern had emerged in that on each of these Sunday nights just before 6.00 PM my grandmother and her lifelong friend Mrs  porritt who lived next door would take themselves off to a local club for a few drinks and several games of bingo, returning at about 10.pm. Peter and I would then spend most of the next two hours either reading magazines watching a bit of TV or talking before I caught the 8.00 pm number 82 bus to Windy Nook and home. One particular Sunday night having followed this normal routine  the clock had moved on to about 7.45, Peter and I were in our Grandmothers kitchen where there was a back door through which you could access the yard and the outside toilet, all of these houses at that time had an outside toilet. Grandmothers toilet was about five or six yards from the back door and then up four stone steps and the wooden door of the toilet was then on the left. I told Peter in the kitchen that I had to go  the toilet before going to the bus stop which was about a 150 yards walk from the front door of the house, I also asked  him if he would get two magazines which I had asked him earlier in the evening if I could borrow, he said he would.

    I walked through the yard and up the steps I was in an entirely relaxed  mood and anticipating the bus ride home as well as arriving home in time to spend a couple of hours with my family, especially my two sisters  who were closest to me in age being born less than two years apart.. I entered the toilet and spent about three minutes or so in there, as I was about to open the door and leave, the most remarkable and simultaneously  terrifying thing happened.                                        The unmistakable voice of my grandfather spoke to me from the area above and behind my head and this is what he said                                                                         " Alan, don't be afraid son, I want to tell you something that will help you in your life" I was so shocked and frightened, I pushed the door open and took the four stairs in one leap almost stumbling on landing, the back door was open and I just ran, Peter my cousin was in the kitchen. I can not imagine what kind of an image I portrayed, Peter was completely startled by my appearance, indeed he looked frightened himself, he stood in front of me and kept asking me what was wrong and what had happened. I could not tell him, I was still trying to get my thoughts and myself in order over what had just happened. I told him that I was ok and that nothing had happened, it was obvious by his manner that he did not believe me but I could not tell him because I thought that it would frighten him further and it was partly due to the fact that I did not want to appear foolish in relating such an implausible occurrence. I left quickly, I just wanted to get home to familiar surroundings and my family but little did I know that on this day that my grandad was not finished with me yet.

    Twenty minutes on the bus and a ten minute walk cleared my head and by the time I arrived home I was back to my normal self although still turning the events of the past hour over and over in my mind. At this time my brother and I shared a double bed in the back bedroom of our house. I went to bed at about 10.30 and my thoughts had turned to work the next day. I was working on the construction of a new school which was a mere five minutes walk from my house. I loved the variety of carpentry tasks that were part of my job.

    I had not been in bed very long, ten minutes or so, my brother Raymond was asleep. I was lying on my left hand side facing the wall with my brother In front of me I was wide awake we were the only two in the room and the door was closed. Without warning I felt the unmistakable pressure of a hand closing on my right shoulder, I froze with terror, if anything this was much worse than what had happened three hours earlier. The hand on my shoulder was insistent but gentle repeatedly pulling my right shoulder back in an effort to get me to turn around, I was rigid with fear but the hand kept pulling, I heard a voice somewhere within me telling me not to be afraid but the voice was not mine, the pressure of the hand on my shoulder increased without actually hurting me, in my head I could hear myself saying no no no leave me alone please leave me alone, the hand and the pressure on my shoulder stopped. I have not the slightest doubt that this was my grandad.

    for about the next ninety minutes I could not sleep at all, going over and over these two events in my mind.  Sheer emotional exhaustion  took me to sleep and I awoke next morning to broad and bright daylight and felt fine but perhaps still quiete a bit unnerved by it all but within forty eight hours or so I was the same as as I ever was. I had no further communication from my grandad,from time to time some years later I would sometimes think about it and wonder what it was that my grandad wanted to tell me. There have been times in my life when I would have welcomed advice from someone or a spirit not of this world but then I think that most people might think the same.

    forty three years later I received  a visit from another spirit, another family member. On that occasion I had no fear at all. In between there have been other strange occurrences not connected to the spirit world. In scale they are almost irrelevant or inconsequential  but nevertheless less take a lot of explaining 

    I am sure that a lot of people having read this blog will offer the opinion that this was no more than hallucination  or a vivid imagination. These views are to be respected and warrant no less creedence  than my own views or of those  people who's  views are the same as mine. If the events described here were the only experience of such matters I had ever had then it would be difficult to counter the suggestion of hallucination, but that is not the case. In closing I would just like to say once again that I am essentially a very honest person. The experiences I have had are without any doubt at all real. I can not understand or explain them Other than these events happening to me at the times they did, each of them years apart I have never had any interest at all in the paranormal, it has never even formed part of my reading material which is almost exclusively non fiction with the backbone of it being Biographical 

    Thank you for taking the trouble to read my blog

    Alan Copeland        AKA Bill Eever ( believer )

     

    My first blog entry, in fact my first blog ever was about my Grandad and his two attempts to communicate with me on the same evening, this would have been in 1962.  My next experience which left me puzzled and with a question unresolved to this day took place in 1965 / 1966. It was fleeting, all over in less than five minutes. It was something I have very rarely spoken about , no more than two or three times in over fifty years, I think this is because it is probably the experience which would invite the most scepticism / disbelief. So once again I find myself having to vouch for my own honesty  integrity and accuracy in relating this very odd occurrence.

    A dream, or something more profound !

    We were four good mates, myself   Dave Levee   Frankie McGee and Eddie Ruddick. We were all about eighteen and had been mates since childhood. Funny how friendships are formed sometimes, I met Frankie McGee one day in our local park when we were about ten we both ran from different directions for the one swing that was not being used, we got there at the same time and both grabbed it in a matter of seconds we were scrapping over it, throwing punches for all we were worth over a swing. Just when I thought I might be going to get the upper hand his big brother Eddie pulled us apart and made us shake hands.we became best friends for the next twelve years and never had another cross word between us.  So on this night some time in 1965 the four of us had gone to Low Fell. Low Fell was great it had five or six great pubs three or four nice places to eat some nice shops and a snooker and pool hall with fifteen tables. It was midweek I know, probably a Thursday night and we had been playing snooker for a couple of hours. When we finished we walked to the bus stop which was outside the Gateshead Arms pub, it was still early about 8.30 PM. Right next to the Gateshead Arms pub was St John's Roman Catholic Church. In all the time we had been using that bus stop the church had always been closed and in darkness, but this night it was lit up and there was music coming from within and the sound of kids laughing. There was a wide pathway which led from street level where we were up and around to the double arched doors of the church.              Someone suggested that we go up and have a look so we did. There was a lady sitting on a chair with a small table just inside the door. We asked if we could come in and she said we were welcome to do so, there was a small charge which we paid. She explained that it was a youth  club for kids of fifteen and older, that soft drinks and light snacks were available and asked if we would be polite and not to noisy.   We made our way to the back of the church hall where there were several  long wooden benches. The benches were long enough for all four of us to sit side by side on one of them,I was on the right hand side as we looked out at the main group of kids dancing in the centre of the large church hall. There was a temporary counter with tables behind where soft drinks and sandwiches etc were available. My best mate at that time Frankie McGee was on my left, then Dave Levee and Eddie Ruddick on the other end.                                                           We sat quietly watching but not saying very much at all, we had only came in because the lights and the music we heard had roused our curiosity  and as it was early and the buses were frequent we probably intended it as no more than half hour diversion before we continued home. The girls outnumbered the boys by at least three to one but most of them were at least two to three years younger than ourselves although still attractive to the casual observer.

    even now after all these years it is still difficult to put into words what happened next but I will try to present it as best as I can. I was quietly watching the group  of about twenty people on the dancefloor, then in my mind over a period I would say of between five and ten seconds the realisation came to me that this scene in front of me was familiar, not just the scene but the people in it. As the seconds ticked by the feeling of having seen this before intensified I could see a girl, taller than most of the others with straight long blonde hair below her shoulders with a very distinctive coloured dress on, deep wine coloured red with gold braided across her chest, then another person I recognised stepping up to the counter to buy something then two or three other individuals also familiar, I was beginning to anticipate their movements before they made them because I had experienced this scene before. During these seconds as they unfolded I felt almost disorientated and very unnerving trying to make sense out of what was happening. And then in an instant it came to me, it was a dream I had had, about three weeks previously. I was struggling to cope with the enormity of it I was still  only eighteen and not emotionally or mentally equipped to deal with it.I thought about the dream still while watching these unfolding events and I remembered that at some point in the dream a gang of lads had run into the church hall and started hitting people indiscrimminately  and in the dream when it happened I was in the Church Hall with Frankie Dave and Eddie.                                                    It is difficult to relate the sense of disbelief I felt at that time, that here I was in real time re living a dream in presice  detail which I had dreamt of some weeks previously, but real it was. Almost instinctively I turned and pushed Frankie forcefully  with both hands and shouted to all three of them " we have to get out of here now straight away"  they must have been startled  by this very uncharacteristic and intense outburst because as one they just turned and walked very quickly to the door and ran down the ramp to the bus stop. Almost in unison they asked me what was the matter, what had happened to make me behave like that. Once again and for the same reason as with my cousin Peter I could not tell them, it would have sounded preposterous telling three lads that I had had a dream three weeks ago that we were in this church hall and that everything that had happened in the church was exactly as happened in my dream, I could not even make up a reason fictitious  or otherwise not to tell them I could not think of anything other than that you could have a dream about something that would happen in the future, exact in every detail. So said the only thing I could, I just said something really very very strange happened and I can not tell you about it. They were not happy about it but we were close friends and there was a bond between us. They knew clearly that it was not a poor attempt  af a joke they knew that on this matter at least I was very serious but at other times I could jome and display impromptu humour at the drop of a hat as they say, or when the occasion demanded, they also knew me well enough and for long enough not to press me on what had happened so they just let it go.             It bothered me for the whole of the following week, such a profound and inexplicable  experience.  In urging them to get out of the church quickly It was because I had expected the arrival of the gang of troublemakers  at any moment, I had expected to meet them on the ramp as we ran from the church or to see them arrive as we waited at the bus stop while we waited for our bus, but I never saw them at all. So that part of the premonition  did not come true. The girl in the dress and other people present were exactly the same people I had seen in my dream, from the moment I realised that I was actually watching events that I had dreamed of then for a minute or so before we ran out I was able to anticipate what they were going to do next, so that part was all true, no hallucination  no imagination all true. In the following days I was expecting at any time to hear via local gossip of of a disturbance or incident happening at the church after we got on the bus, I never did. In Gateshead where I lived and grew up at that time, we had a local paper, The Gateshead Post which came out once a week on Fridays so in the following week I waited to buy the paper and fully expecting to find in there a report or small mention of a disturbance or of anti social behaviour at St John's church on Low Fell but there was nothing at all.                                                I fully stand by what I saw and experienced in the church hall, I absolutely expect that there will be many skeptics and can understand that but for me, following on the death of my grandfather and the experience which followed that,  I was in the early stages at the age of eighteen of realising that all is not so simple on this earth we all share as it appears to be. There are invisible boundaries all around us and boundaries between time as well as physical  life and spiritual  existence  which can and do get crossed from one side to the other.                                        After this incident in the church I went about my life in the same way as everyone else, growing up and as an adult experiencing joy hope pain regrets hope and anger,  this took me to 1994 / 1995 when  I had another life questioning experience at the age of about 48. Just for fun I shall call it,   Fortune lost

     

     

  11. So I’m just going to put this out there. The Netflix series “OA” looks as if it has been following our stories, conversations and blogs here on UM. Particularly mine. I know I can seem crazy sometimes, but the whole series has way to many points that parallel blogs and events in my life that I have shared here and the odd way that spiritual beings seem to work. Even the images are strikingly similar to things I have described.

    If somone hasn’t been using my blogs as source material, it is one hell of a coincidence. The end of the first season blew me away. I won’t give it away, but if you have followed my blogs over the years, then you would see why.

    By he way. If you are a writer and doing this, I’m totaly cool with it. 

    It’s a hard one for me, because on one hand it looks like a writer has been using my experiences as source material and, if not, well... I take unusually syncronsitic events a little... a lot more seriously than most people. It wouldn’t be the first time all these things start lining up through media, so it means I need to pay attention. 

    Yes, Yes I know. I don’t need a lesson in how the human mind can create stories out of nothing... oddly enough that’s what the series is about as well. It’s as if somone has even been watching previous conversations and arguments I have had here. 

    Either that or I’m bat poop crazy.  

    The great thing is that I have been recording my experiences here for years. All it takes is some reading then watching the series and somone should be able to start to see what I am seeing.

    What a wacky universe we live in.

     

     

     

     

  12. Impedancer
    Latest Entry

    Many of you might wonder what Krav Maga is that I practise?. the martial art system was developed by Imi Lichtenfeld (former boxer and wrestler) who made use of his martial art skills to defend the Jewis quarter against fascist groups in Bratisalva during the second world war.  following his migration to Israel in the late 1940s he started to provide lessons on combat training for the Israel military Defense Forces which was later developed into Krav Maga. The orginal concept was to take the most effective simpel and practical techniques of other fighting systems to make them rapidly teachable to military conscripts to make them in relativly short time battle ready. the system derived from a combination of techniques taken from Boxing, Wrestling, Akido, Judo and Karate etc and is know for its for its focus on real-world situations and extreme efficiency. It was secret until 1968 and became popular among most Special Forces and Armies and Police forces across the world which later became taught by some martial art gyms. Students learn simultaneous defensive and offensive maneuvers and to defend against all variety of attacks on the ground in tight spaces, in darkness, with several attackers and are taught (most importantly) to avoid physical confrontation If this is impossible or unsafe, it promotes finishing a fight as quickly and aggressively as possible and to get away from the situation, Attacks are aimed at the most vulnerable parts of the body and there is no rules in Krav Maga.   

    What makes it fun to practice KM is all the boxing and the various techniques plus the friendship you get and that everyone strives to make each other better. got this question once how do you spar?. do you beat the crap out of each other? like you usually see in movies?.When you spar you dont hit your opponent with full force, you stop your punch just before it lands otherwise boxers wouldn´t learn anything and they would not be able to go matches.you spar for the following reasons you want to improve each others skills and to have fun, you want to do your best to ("win") yes but at the same time you have to adapt to your opponents level and still make it hard for him if you feel you constantly have the advantage, its all about giving and taking.  I also got this question once: when you spar dont you ever get angry when hit? No an angry fighter is a bad fighter, i do get frustrated and angry at myself sometimes when i do simple mistakes or get too tired to spar properly, stay focused stay on your game. Do you recommend km to eveyone ? I recommed it to everyone if you haven´t tried it you should give it a go! !Dont you have to be extremely fit?. It´s not bad to resonably fit if you´re not you will get in shape in no time plus have fun.

    Do you have any good self defense tips?: Yes! firstly Join your local KM club or boxing, thai boxing club. Secondly: when your out in town avoid looking at your mobile phone, look up instead and walk like you owned the place. If you do get attacked do everything  you can to get away from the sutiation defend yourself scream and be as agressive as you can and never give up!!!. If someone starts to pick on you in lets say a bar, simply go to another bar with your mates dont stick around, if the person starts to get threatening and you feel the situation is getting out of hand scream as loud as you can .BACK OFF!!, STOP!! this is what the law enforcement do and it will attract peoples attention if he then attacks you, you have a given him a warning and a good reason to defend yourself which will not be in his favour in court. And remember the first rule of Krav Maga avoid physical confrontation at all cost, never put yourself in a dangerous situation, stay out of trouble!!!.

     

     

  13. The inclination is great when you first experience something you deem to be paranormal to take it all as having meaning, as being truth, and then packing in every single view or bit of input that supports it into the same file. I do understand. I have been fascinated with the paranormal and astral realms for decades. The appeal, the obsession, is real. It is my life work and passion, so I understand.

    But, you do yourself no good, no gain, and no profit in hoarding information without discrimination. The end result is to be one of many who have a ton of things they can talk about and a whole lot of illogical conclusions and conflicts in it all. In other words, they do not have anything much to show for it. You MUST weed out everything. If you accidently toss something true, it will comeback, don't worry about that.

    I had to determine what to focus on, what was not a waste of time or red herring. Here are the rules I developed finally when the piles of stuff got to be too much:

    1. It has to serve a purpose. Late one night, family all asleep, I was writing in my office and suddenly started hearing clicks right behind me, which increased. I turned around sharply - the house was silent - and just stared to see CAT KIBBLE of all damn things, appearing in id air and pouring out onto the wood floor. About a cup full in all, hitting the flooring and scattering from the impact. This phenomenon is called an apport. I have seen a few. It stopped as the last of the kibble hit the floor, and after a bemused moment my old dog got up and sniffed at it and then started eating it. I kind of absorbed it and thought for a moment on it, then shrugged and went back to my writing. Cat food apporting in serves zero purpose, is ridiculous in fact, and I am not going to waste time on it or give it the faintest bit of energy. 

    2. It has to be positive. The dream I had which foreshadowed my Father's failing health and impending death was not a happy experience, but, it was positive in result. It warned me and allowed me to mentally prepare and be a lot less surprised when the call came that sent me driving through the might to his side before he passed over. I cannot, for the life of me, understand the numbers of posters who claim terrible, scary events and then do not want to hear how to be rid of it. I figure they either lie in the first case, exaggerate and know it is imagination going on for them, or fall into the common silliness that this might be the ONLY paranormal thing that will ever bother with them again so they want to keep it around. Surround yourself in positive things, and you will draw more of the same. Hanging out with something negative like this is like not throwing out the trash because it once was something useful to you.

    3. It needs to make sense. Kind of like my cat food anecdote above, which made zero sense at all - we didn't even have a cat at the time - an experience needs to make sense. I do not mean to the level of science and skeptical demands, but taken as a whole and in context, it does need to make sense. I was maybe about seven years old and got dragged to a night service at the Base Chapel when I was not really feeling like going anywhere. I sat on the end of a row and looked out through the (clear) windows at the darkness and Quonset huts out there used still for some base housing and my mind was wandering as the sermon went on. Suddenly, to my astonishment, I saw a bride, long flowing gown, walking slowly forward with a smile on her face and love in her eyes. She was so happy and seemed to emanate love to my amazement, I took it for a reflection in the glass from the small chapel, the angles were right and looked back into the chapel to see her, but, there was no bride there. I glanced around and nobody else was looking out the window at the bride. I looked back outside and nothing was there anymore. It was a while before I started to think about some "hauntings" as being recordings that can somehow be triggered to play for people who see them. I saw the recording of her wedding for a moment is all, and like to think her love did that and I hope her life was great. 

    A lot of people like to approach the paranormal as either positive or negative, of God or the Devil. I see it as sort of neutral parts of reality or else manifestations of a mind, most commonly the one who experiences them. My seeing that bride was a neutral thing already there, I believe. I just happened to somehow push the "play" button for it and see it. A memory for me, perhaps, but, I had nothing to do with it. Neutral things can be recordings like that, of intensely emotional moments. Bad, tragic, really happy events cane do this more easily. If there was a theory about recordings, perhaps it would claim that everything that has ever happened is recorded somehow. I know recordings are real, but, I don't know if everything is recorded. Probably, it is, if some moments are. Makes sense, I guess.

    There is another aspect of neutral reality, which is where that stupid cat food deal fits into for me. I was writing an article on nothing paranormal, cats nowhere on my mind. It happened, I had nothing to do with it, but someone or something did. I live by the theory that there are a lot of energies out there who want attention and they sometimes act out around people who are open to them, hoping for attention. I am open, but the beings I deal with know my rules and terms well. I am not at all amused or interested in neat-o gee whiz tripe. If they have something to tell me they do so pretty directly. I am very fierce about anything doing weird things anywhere at all around my family. My lady is an old hand with me and my ways but my child I want free to come to her own conclusions. If she asks, I explain, but, nothing at all is allowed to go bump in the night for her. I blame the cat food on some "thing" who detected my openness and did it to get my attention or weird me out or maybe get me to try to sort out how to ask it to bring me gold coins next time or some such silliness. It got the boot instead. I am not interested. 

    This category of "thing" or energy looking for someone to attend to it is where a whole lot of the reports we get on the forum fall into. Weird events happen, they make no sense, serve no purpose, and typically are not positive in results. The inexperienced will latch onto them and consider it to be an achievement and really cool, and I hate to say it but this stuff and class of "energy" never amounts to anything in the end but nothing at best or a low energy attachment at worst. "Things" do not go out looking for boring little humans like us unless they need something off us and this is never anything we do not need more ourselves. Wisdom is to not even waste time on them. File the event away, yes. My cat food tale has amused many since it happened and is truly strange, but it has zero cosmic value in the larger, real picture. In other words, it is meaningless. Most reports are, and if they occurred at all should land in a diary somewhere and be forgotten unless they make some sense later.

    Now, manifestations of a mind are something else. This is where it can cross the line into mental health issues, and I do not mean schizophrenia. It is reckless trolling and ignorance to see people posting "you are crazy" or "you need mental health intervention" to some of these posters. The depressed mind, the traumatized mind, extreme grief or stress or age related dementia, people suffering from PTSD or merely suicidal depression can experience visions, beings, disturbed sleep/disorders and the very last, most cruel and shallow response is to laugh, mock and tell them they are insane. This reveals ignorance that should stay off that post if they do not know for sure what is going on. Demons are terrible and real and dangerous, and there are manifestations of lesser order as well. In my experience, most of them are creations from a very wounded mind and need positive help and positively worded information and direction to psychiatric support. "Demons" often manifest in later stages when there is little hope or self image left and to be brutal can push them deeper into despair or even to suicide. If they are asking for help, or if it is you reading this who thinks you have one, there is room to reassure and explain about how the mind fights back and tries to express from the subconscious mind what it perceives and begs for help. Help is there. This is not insanity. If you are asking and looking for answers, you are not crazy. The truly insane have bought into it as reality and won't be asking. This is one of the most agonizing and terrifying experiences to go through as there is no safe place anymore, and no escape until someone goes in and helps the victim start to rebuild walls and self esteem and a safe place to stand and see what is happening so they can see how to help themselves clean house and fix what broke. 

    It has been said that God never gives us more than we can handle. There is some truth to that even if it is not The Creator who does this trash to us, really. We do it, others do it to us because we don't realize or we allow it, life does it, and anyone can fall into a hole deep enough to suffer some of this sort of thing, if only in passing and if only during a bad phase in life they got over. Not everyone can do it alone and Compassion is always the right answer and move away if it is not you who knows how to help. Do not feed it further in bad ways. 

    To get back on track, I want to tell you that discernment, throwing out the tripe and waste experiences is wisest. Reject these odd events and intrusions on your life, reality and space, such as ghost footsteps upstairs and shadow people flitting about or stuff being tossed around soon as it begins. While it may open your mind to the possibility that there is more out there, beyond that, if it serves no purpose, makes no sense, and serves no positive purpose in results, reject it. If it is an energy roaming about, it will have to move on if you insist that it does and mean it. It is a back handed compliment, really, as they bother folks who have a bit of light to feed off of. Write it in your diary, and move on and allow life to reveal later if there was anything more to it. Life is challenging enough without carrying these parasites around on top of it. 

    I get accused of being a sceptic often because the truth is most things can be debunked and need to be. I support that not because I do not believe in it, but because I do believe and I know the real deal is real enough and powerful enough to make certain you cannot ignore it if it wants to. It makes sense when it does (though it might take a while to fully appreciate that), it serves a purpose and teaches you a lot, and it is positive in results. It will not be trying to scare you or terrorize your children. 

    All of this can be boiled down into a really brief point. If it is not GOOD, just say no. Literally, just look up at your version of cat kibble falling from nowhere and shake your head and ignore it. Go back to living and doing what you were before.

    You have free will. Use it.

    I write to serve.

  14. A Career of Me

    Whatching my boys today, I can’t help but start thinking about parenting as I start this process of optimization. Out of everything that I want to get right in this world, It’s being a father. They really are my world, yet at the same time, I know I have to make my own world to be true to me too if I’m going to be my best for them. 

    I never put them in day care. My wife works full time, and owning the school, I didn’t work until the evening. When my first was born, I was the ripe old age of 27. I strapped the kid to my back, learned how to change diapers on the go, blend baby food, manage blow outs, and sleep when he slept.

    My wife has a busy corporate career, so he even came with me to the dojo. People all around town, that didn’t already know me, started to identify me as the young guy that took his baby everywhere. I was fine with this. I was young, strong, and I had such a clear focus. I knew kids that were close with their parents grew up more emotionally stable and intelligent, so I did what it took not to have someone else nurturing him. 

    It worked. Now he is a bright, intelligent, and compassionate beautiful 13 year old. Sorry ladies no sexism intended, but sometimes behind  his back, I call him my girl because he is so sweet and compassionate. We really are very close, and he is a big time dady’s boy. 

    Then came another, and a few years latter another. This is where I mark the beginnings of a few of my own personal struggles. I had to drop out of being on the US sport jiujitsu team. The training, the school, two babies at that time were just too much.  I compensated by my long solo trips into the wilderness and meditation, but really my pace was taking to much out of me. I just couldn’t see it. I really felt that I was the master of my universe and nothing could stop me. 

    Anyway... I didn’t want this entry to be a history lesson, but I did it with all three of my boys. I kept them with me. Learning from me, training in martial arts, and we were obsorbing each other. I’m very close to all three of them, and sometimes it breaks my heart just because they are growing and each phase is impermenant. 

    Of course, at the same time  all of that was happening, I was going through deep psycho spiritual episodes. I have another blog here that I was writing during some of that. Looking back, I wonder if it were to much. Maybe I should have asked for help. 

    Anyway, going forward now, I’m wondering how to maintain this role I have taken on in their lives. They are starting to do more and more on their own, but when I choose a new careeer, am I going to have to be like normal dads? Like my wife? She dosnt get home till 7pm. When I was teaching I wasn’t home myself in the evening, but they were actually with me a lot of the time. Leaving the dojo behind has disrupted how we all live. We will still be training twice a week, but I can’t help but worry where this is headed. 

    I don’t just want our short time on this earth in this capacity to be “normal.” I have been fortunate enough to give them an amazing and adventurous child hood so far. How do I continue? How do I make it better? 

    Now that they are older, they bicker more, I snap at them more, and things are not as pure as when they were little. Me and my middle child butt heads all the time. He is a great kid, but along with the freedom I give them, there are some very strict rules about respect and behavior. He wants to challenge me on those, and I don’t always respond in the way I think my higher self wants me to. How do I reel in my reactions? How do I keep the vision I have for them remembering not just a childhood, but a grand experience growing up? How do I work on myself during all this? 

    My mind mills and churns over it so much, I have actually had to start listening to audio books and podcasts with my blue tooth headset simply to drown out my own inner voice. My inner voice simply won’t shut up. I can quiet it during meditation, but the only thing that helps when I’m going about my day is to drown it in information and learning. 

    Optimizing parenthood may be one of the most challenging things I have ever attempted. I have faced down cage fighters, large wild animals, a few abusive psychos, and even stood my ground against what people would call demons and devils, but screwing this up scares the hell out me.

    Thanks for reading. 

     

     

     

  15. This is a part of a post of mine that I posted yesterday in the forum, but I think this should be posted as a blog also!

     

    In the times we live in, with the term political correctness - it is implied that it would somehow be possible to create a world where no-one would ever be offended by anything. This is a utopian dream. What it leads to is policing of language, and many people are afraid to speak their minds freely, in fear that they may offend someone.

    Some other people take it upon themselves - the task of policing what everyone else says. In the end - you have communication where nobody is really saying what they mean and nobody knows what is said is what is meant. 

    One important thing to remember is that - people often offend themselves. Someone else may say this or that - but it is you that will interpret this as offensive, neutral or benevolent.

    This political correctness movement also seems to have given rise to a counter-reaction - where people purposefully verbally abuse other people. This is not worth talking about too much - as it is clear, through the entire human history - how every movement always has a counter-movement.

    The fact is - there will be people who are discriminative (sexist, racist etc.) whether they express it in their language or not. There will also be people who are abusive. That is just the reality of life.
     
    However, there will also be people who perceive everything as a threat, people who overreact and are never satisfied. 99% of the time - these are people who have unresolved issues of their own that they project on other people. 

    The unfortunate problem at hand is that the political correctness movement provides an umbrella for both people who are actually victims of actual abuse (verbal, physical or otherwise) and people mentioned above who use the hype and momentum of this movement to leverage their own personal issues that have nothing to do with actual abuse.

     

  16. newbloodmoon
    Latest Entry

    So I recently joined a writing site that wasn’t associated in any way with some of the things I’ve had published. I thought that I would post stories on there that I would consider to be my seconds. They’re not quite polished or are stories that didn’t quite fit what I wanted to submit.

     I have two stories in to set up kind of what I would like to do. Put stuf out there that isn’t quite my best but was still fun too write.  I will soon post the url so people can go scope them out. Stay tuned for those who wanna check it out.

  17. I have been gone since may 11 of either this year or last, I do not remember. I still have no ways of making normal posts and on top of that most of my old activity posts have disappeared. I feel like they don't want me talking even after accepting that I agreed to not make long like update or activity posts. But even after that I am unable to make posts and interact with everyone. I still do not understand what was so wrong about me making long activity posts so I did not have to mess with blog stuff, but it will never make since why it has become a petty party of making me unable to post plus not being allowed to share the link to another account seems a little idiotic as well. Everyone does not just sit here on this site 24/7 we have to be able to share where else we are for people to network and connect. But it is fine, I am not a moderator, I did not decide these stupid rules. Just here wanting to reconnect, but not allowed too.

     

  18. Mary

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    marymiller106
    Latest Entry

    Hi, to anyone that may read this. My mom passed away in June. There have been strange things happening since just before her bday on Nov 3. I thought I've been crazy and not thinking right. But tonight something happened that I can not explain. Please help me.

  19. Who'd win in a fight: a werewolf, or a kid in a wheelchair?

    The answer may seem tragically obvious, however things get complicated when that kid's wheelchair has a motorcycle engine and he's armed with a box of fireworks.

    Dan Attias' Silver Bullet tells the story of a paraplegic boy named Marty who finds out the dark reason behind a series of town murders. Believing (and knowing) it to be an unlikely resident who's actually a werewolf, he does his best to warn the town, and wages war against the beast behind the brutality.

    Having watched the movie about a year ago, my memory of the movie may be a little fuzzy. However, what I remember most from this movie was its use of practical effects and overall campy atmosphere.

    I loved the use of practical effects in this film. While the werewolf itself looks kind of like a teddy bear, it's surprising to know its not even the best use of practical effects in the film. The werewolf transformation scene, along with the Reverend's nightmare showcase the most gruesome effects in the film. As a matter of fact, I'd say his dream is the most detailed sequence! The film compensates for the monster's lackluster detail by putting both the characters and audience in vulnerable situations where the werewolf has the advantage.

    As for the characters, I like both Marty and his Uncle Red. While Red's eccentric behavior is brought out by the infamous Gary Busey, Marty's character is transcedental. He begins as a brat in the beginning of the film, however as the werewolf takes the lives of people he knows he begins to value his family more and more. My personal favorite Marty scene is when he sends a letter to the werewolf telling him to kill himself :lol:

    Overall, Silver Bullet has all the elements of a classic werewolf story. A small town setting, a murder mystery, and a lone protagonist are what help make The Silver Bullet an iconic werewolf movie. If you're looking for a lycan-themed movie that isn't too scary but still chills to the bone, Silver Bullet is a perfect choice.

    Author's Note: Having been busy as well as enduring a rather disappointing Halloween, it's speculative as to whether or not I'll actually complete this series. However I'll do my best to. Thank you for reading!

    Image result for stephen king silver bullet

  20. Carnoferox's Blog

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    Here is a selection of the cryptozoology papers that I've come across in scientific or semi-scientific publications.

    Caddy (Cadborosaurus willsi)

    California Giant Salamanders

    Cryptic Big Cats

    Enfield Monster

    General Classification

    Kongamato

    Loch Ness Monster

    Madagascar Mystery Animals

    Mapinguari

    Megalodon (Otodus megalodon)

    Minnesota Iceman (Homo pongoides)

    North American Biofortean Review

    Northwest Anthropological Research Notes

    Sasquatch

    Sea Monsters

    Yeti

  21. StarMountainKid
    Latest Entry

    This subject has come up in some thread, so I thought I'd re-post this little commentary.

    Corporationism

    I must admit at first I was against Corporationism. In the old days when we had a sort of democracy I was pretty happy with it. Then, of course, came The Big Crash. In its aftermath I could understand the single party rule. We needed strong leadership if ever we were to revive our economy. The many (temporary it was said) changes to our Constitution at that time seemed reasonable, a requirement to gain stability of our society.

    Now that prosperity has returned, our form of government has changed again. It has been a dizzying time for all of us. Corporationism seemed the logical answer to our past problems. The management of our economy by those who create and maintain our economy was seen by most to be the answer.

    But, some of the new laws seem to me to be an over compensation to our previous problems. In the beginning of this new regime we were mostly untouched by Corporate Rule. Now, however, recent regulations have been unsettling. Although we are still free to choose products as we will, competition among the great Corporations has taken a new and I think dangerous turn.

    The newly imposed obligation of requiring citizens to advertise the products we buy seems to me to be going too far. The transition has already begun. Most of the clothes we purchase now have corporate advertising already sewed onto them.

    Also, requiring we consumers to pay for the right to purchase products just doesn’t sit well with me. It used to be, we just paid for the product, and that was it it. Now, we must pay an entry fee to enter the store of our choice. Not only that, but the purchase fee is added on to the price of the product, as well, along with the various required corporate taxes.

    I think this is going too far, as I said. Furthermore we all know there is legislation being considered that would oblige us to buy a workers card before we would be eligible to apply for a job. The detail now being discussed is whether this privilege will be applied retroactively. We will also be required to purchase products manufactured by our employer. Purchasing similar products from another company would be cause for dismissal.

    There are even plans to oblige us to advertise the products we buy ourselves. Small billboards placed in our yards, for instance. Advertisements stuck to our vehicles is another idea making the rounds.

    Then there is Corporate music, which is the popular music of today’s culture, which is nothing but musical commercials. I can remember the time when music was independent of commercialism. That time has passed, I’m afraid. Now, the pop stars are nothing but human commercials, the biggest celebrities funded by the largest corporations.

    Movies, always a popular entertainment, now are full of commercial messages. There are even movies being made that are nothing but long advertisements with the slimmest plot added to them. Television programming, as well, has fallen to a very low level. The enhancement of consumerism is its only objective.

    Our Corporate politicians say the next faze will be the requirement to spend all of our yearly income on consumer goods. There will be no more saving of money, as banks will no longer offer savings accounts. The use of credit cards will be mandatory, the required amount of debt depending on one’s income. It is said all this will lead to a secure and stable economy.

    In the future, most of our free time must be spent buying. We will all be wealthy, they say. We will own more and more products, and that is to our own benefit and to the benefit of our financial system. Zero unemployment is the goal. Everyone working and everyone enjoying the fruits of their labor, with no one left out.  

    Before the Big Crash, consumerism was not well organized, and was therefore an inefficient and fragmented economic system. Corporationism is the answer to all our previous difficulties in organizing a prosperous society for all. Is this not what we have desired in the past, a stable economy with its consumer goods available equally to everyone?

    This ultimate goal will be achieved, our politicians tell us, and we will finally live in a utopian society of plenty. Nonetheless, I sometimes yearn for a previous era when idleness was not against some law, when we had time to enjoy some useless and contrary activity without the watchful eye of some Corporate Authority encouraging us to ever more activity as busy consumers, and when we could just relax for a while, pursuing some personal pleasure that was not related to materialism.

    Ah well, those tranquil times will forever remain in the dim past of recollection. Sadly, I must stop here. The newest city mall has just opened, and I must continue my task to accumulate as many of the latest products available, as is required according to my meager earnings as a social commentator.

    This may be my last commentary, however.  My profession as an independent journalist has been abolished. From now on, I must become an advertising consultant to one of the great corporations. Next time you read a billboard or watch a television commercial, please think of me as I once was. Though you will probably have forgotten me by then.

  22. Hello everyone. Its been a long time since I've written a blog. Mostly because I really haven't had much to say. Today though I realize it's actually because of much more then that. I have basically been in a stand still funk. So much so that it has begun to effect everything around me. Including my marriage. It isn't comfortable opening my soul for all to see, but I need an outlet. Yesterday morning my wife had given me a very hard pill to swallow. She doesn't even know if this relationship is worth saving anymore. For the sake of our two sons, we are not going to make any drastic moves. It would seem at the moment though, as far as she is concerned we are basically separated, while still living together. I spent the better part of yesterday doing my best to not lose control. It was a very difficult day, to say the least.

    Something amazing happened to me this morning though. I awoke at 3 am, and instantly began to stress, picking it up right where I left off from the day before. I sat like I do every morning in front of this computer. Difference today was I didn't give a crap to read, or reply to any of the things I would normally. I just stared at the black screen, like I was looking into my very soul. Suddenly it all became so clear. I felt as though I were looking into the eyes of God himself, and found myself lacking. Not in a negative way though. More like just actually seeing something that was so obvious that it stirred what I believe to be a natural change in my very soul.

    Now she is the one who brought me here, and no matter what happens between us I will be forever grateful that she led me to this place of self realization. Today, not because I'm trying to be what she wants me to be, but because I, through simple truth, feel a deep change within. Beginning right now, I am going to be a good husband. I'm going to be an even better father (that part I have always been good at). Thing is, for this marriage it might be to late. I have wasted years. Its also possible she wont believe that I have actually changed, and will think the changes I'm about to make aren't real. None of this I have any control over. All I can do is my half, and let the cards fall where they may. With or without her, my new life begins right now. Its when we find ourselves looking over the edge of the cliff, is when we change.

    I know I could have written this blog much better. I could have gone into much more detail etc. But Its difficult for me to even think straight right now.

    Thanks for stopping in folks.

  23. As long as I can remember, I have some very strange and interesting experiences.  Some people have told me that they would afraid to go to sleep at night.  I had mentioned in one of my blogs that over 20 years ago I had a very strange experience that I can't explain.  People who know me have believed me but can't understand how these things happen to me.  People that don't know me have often reacted very negatively to me telling me I had mental health issues, a hidden drug or medical problem (which I don't have) or have attacked me personally (verbally that is).  

    Very basically I might have had a experience with a UFO, Talking on a pay phone but not remembering what I said or who I called, Out of Body experience while driving, possible encounter with space aliens or something not of this world, being guided to a restaurant that I wanted to go to but couldn't remember where it was and then getting to a meeting on time even though I was over an hour away.  The strangest thing about this was the reaction that my mother had when I came home (at the time I lived with her).

    She was upset with me and basically said to me, "You tapped into something you shouldn't have. What were you thinking or doing?"  Do you want a visit from someone who isn't happy with you? When I asked her if someone had come to the house, she wouldn't answer me.  It seemed like she was upset and afraid at the same time.  She wouldn't talk about it.  At the time I didn't have a cell phone and had had no contact with her to my knowledge after I left the house that morning.  What did my mother encounter?  From the brief conversation I had with her it seemed like she knew about the phone call at the pay phone. 

    One person suggested that I tapped into something that was in a different plane or field or I was disconnected from reality.  I wonder then if I was disconnected from reality how I was able to drive a vehicle to where I needed to go and act and function normally during this times.  

    Would there be a way to tell what this experience was because it seems to be a combination of many different things.  

  24. Wïççåñ`ś Bėåçöñ

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    Welcome to the first blog of the Wïççåñ`ś Bėåçöñ where I'll be touching base upon the basic info and FAQ regarding to becoming a Wiccan! If at any point there's further into you'd like to see here or want a answer to a question. Post down below and I'll add it here or in upcoming blogs. So let's begin!

    What is the belief system/(s) does a Wiccan have?
    Some Wiccans base their beliefs upon the equality of both the Goddess (Feminine) and God (Masculinity) while there's others believe in the balance within the universe. With that being said no matter what belief you pick as a Wiccan we all have the Divine power within. 

    What are the rules for Wicca?
    the Rede/Creed which is the main focus within our practice which is "If you harm none, do what you will." Meaning you shall not place a spell upon another against their Freewill as this will need end well upon your behalf. It's pretty much karma what goes around will come around whether it's positive or negative. 
    Take FULL responsibility for the everything u do. Meaning if u treat someone poorly you must make amends why? Because u need to take responsibility for your action(s)/word(s). 

    What types of Wicca paths are there available for me?
    Here are some paths briefly summarised for u all to find ur inner Wiccan each type that's highlighted in blue is a link to further information upon each path:
    Alexandrian: Wiccan path who follow the philosophy of Alexandria.  
    Celtic: Path of Wicca that involves the Celt and their languages. 
    Dianic: A tradition that focuses upon only the Goddess and feminine forces. 
    Eclectic: Alternative Wiccan the one who mixes and matches other paths to suit their beliefs and needs. 
    Faerie: The Wiccan who believes in the fae and works with the realm of fae. 
    Hereditary: A path of a Wiccan who continues their magical path from generation to generation within a family. 
    Gardnerian: The Wiccan green thumb of the group
    Shamanic: This is a path that's a combination of Shaman and Wicca. 
    Traditional: Follows the only traditional path of Wicca.