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This is the site where everyone can read ongoing Ouija transcripts of my conversations with Dr. 58.

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IronGhost

"Ken Again" -- I travel to 89,771 B.C

NOTE: Hi Everyone. Dr. 58 will return soon ... I have an enormous amount of transcripts to pore over, edit and put into shape for presentation here -- I hope to get to it in just a few days -- In the meantime -- I want to share this series of posts with you that is off the subject of Dr. 58, per se, but involves some other explorations of consciousness I have conducted recently.

* * * * * *

As writer I often work as a ghostwriter, and I recently accepted a job from a publisher in Europe to create a rather large manuscript on the subject of reincarnation.

Although I have had a lifetime interest in reincarnation, (mostly a passing interest), the intense amount of research I was required to do for this project led me deeper into the more arcane aspects of the complex belief systems surrounding the idea that we have lived “past lives.”

Anyway, since I was steeped in the subject all day, one night I decided to conduct my own experiment to see if I could find out anything about my own possible reincarnations.

One of the primary methods of discovering past lives is the use of hypnotic regression. As for myself, I cannot be hypnotized, and I won’t go into detail right now why that is so.

However, I have explored many aspects of altered consciousness exploration, from 31 years of daily Zen meditation to lucid dreaming, and use of various binaural beat technologies. For this experiment to ferret out my own past lives, I opted for one of my old favorites, Hemi-Sync, a series of binaural tools developed by the Monroe Institute of Faber, Virginia.

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In this case, I opted for “Problem Solving Focus 12” from the “Threshold” series because it enabled me to set up a “problem” to solve – the word “problem” is slightly the wrong term here, as I choose to think of my “problem” in this case to be “goal” – but, effectively, the guidance of this program was ideal for leveraging the experience I was attempting to “program” for myself.

I got comfortable flat on my back and tuned into the blissful tones of Hemi-Sync until I entered that “body asleep – mind awake” state, which some might call the hypnogogic state, which is the stage between sleep and wakefulness – although in my case, my mental presence was not that of sleep nor a lucid dream situation – rather, a subtle frame of consciousness wherein the mind is free of the physical body and can explore what I’ll just call “other aspects” of reality.

I set up my reincarnation scenario this way:

Once in my altered state of consciousness, I was to imagine and create three doorways which were floating out somewhere in the middle of space.

On each door I would “imprint” a “target date.” These dates I chose at random, although in fact, I selected dates that I had an intuitive feeling for. I just sort of “let my hand write them down.” So the dates I choose were:

Door Number One: 35,000 B.C

Door Number Two: 75 A.D.

Door Number Three: 1500 A.D.

My goal then was to enter through each doorway to see what I would find on the other side – with the intention or hope that I might find one of my “past lives” living in one of these eras so far removed from the present day in time.

I was pleased to discover that I was having a good Hemi-Sync session. In about 40 minutes, I felt my consciousness detach from my body and float free. At first I saw the surroundings of my bedroom as I floated upward. I watched (with typical amusement) the beams, insulation, woodwork and rafters of my house dissolve right through my “body “as I floated upward. (I remember the “old days” when this used to freak me out).

Once above the roof of my home, floating free above the snowy Minnesota countryside, a felt a sudden tickling whorl at my center.

Then: I was blasted upward!

astral-travel-2-300x210.jpg?w=500

There was a blur, and I found myself suspended in outer space –perhaps not exactly space – true, there were stars burning hard and steady in the unimaginable distance – but my immediate surroundings were suffused in a lovely carbon blue.

My discipline was holding and my control was good. I turned my mind to the formation of my three doorways – and before long – there they were! Floating out in the carbon-blue space against a backdrop of distant stars were three heavy oaken doors, framed in black timber and hung with polished brass hinges. On each door was a brass plate engraved with the dates I had “programmed” – 35,000 B.C., 75 A.D and 1500 A.D.

To be honest, I didn’t know exactly how this would work from here. (I often don’t think out every detail of these kinds of projects).

Would I just float up to each doorway, open it somehow and pass through?

As I thought of this, I again felt a tingling tug in my solar plexus. (The solar plexus or my astral or analog body, that is). I was then pulled forward, as if by magnetic attraction.

I was moving toward the door on the left – the doorway to 35,000 B.C.!

GULP!

As is often the case, I have sudden moments where I question whether my meddling and experiments are a good idea. There was a certain loss of control. As I moved inexorably toward Doorway No. 1, there was that uneasy “well, there’s no going back now” feeling.

I moved closer and closer to the portal to 35,000 B.C. -- I began to experience a breathless adrenaline surge as I noticed that the door began to swing open – I caught a glimpse of blue sky and sunlight on the other side!

cosmic-door.jpg?w=500

My speed increased – there was a sudden “WHOOOOOOSH!”

I had become a blurred streak of light!

I reached the door!’

It was gaping wide!

I plunged through!

KAAA-BLAAAMMM!!!

I opened my eyes. I found myself crouched low in a guarded position, standing on a stony bit of ground. I immediately became aware of a white sun crackling in the sky, radiating hot on my face – in fact, I felt the powerful, almost “heavy” solar rays baking my bare shoulders, arms and hands.

I am in a physical body!

I stand up slowly. I look around in awe at the environment. Out in the distance in front of me I see a line of mountainous peaks, but they are not far away – perhaps only a mile or two across a deep gorge between where I stand and the craggy spires.

To be exact, I would say that these “mountain peaks” were more like large rocky bluffs, perhaps only about 800 feet high, made of blue-black stone interspersed with trees, foliage and slides of rubble -- but they were seemed much larger and higher because of their radical incline from the valley below.

The gorge itself is a dense mix of deciduous and coniferous trees along with many boulders. I could not see to the bottom because of all the structure, but I could sense that the way to the bottom was steep and deep. Rough land! No man’s land, for sure!

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The sky was richly cerulean. Fluffy white clouds scudding from left to right – the atmosphere was steamy hot! The humidity was oppressive. Dampness was trickling down my shoulders and running down my bare legs.

I noticed that I was wearing what appeared to be animal skins belted at my waist, not much longer than shorts– not so crudely designed really – but in this case, fastened up and worn in a way to help me stay cool as possible. To be honest, it appeared I was wearing a rolled-up jumble of filthy matted road kill.

I was an adult but youngish, lean and smooth-muscled. I had a course black beard and long black hair, wet and tangled.

Was this me – in my previous life – in 35,000 B.C.?

I looked to the right and left. I could see that I was on a primitive trail that traversed my side of the valley wall. I looked up and behind me the bluffs extended steeply above my head probably at least 200 feet. The only open way of the trail appeared to be to my left.

I noticed that I was breathing heavy, like I had been exerting myself. When I looked left down the trail – way off to the left… it was as if I suddenly remembered something – then -- a roiling pit of emotional dread seeped upward into my consciousness, like an evil black crude bubbling up from a place of psychic darkness.

I realized: It was because there was something down there – down that trail. Something terrifying.

It was something I didn’t want. I knew one thing for sure: I wanted to be opposite and go opposite from whatever it was.

But what manner of horror was it? Just contemplating it made the dreadful feelings come forth even stronger and build.

Oh God! What’s down there? I don’t want it!

Whatever it was, wherever that path led, toward what evil -- it was more than horror and dread. It was unspeakable.

But wait a minute – what am I thinking?

I began to get fuzzy about who or what I was. Am I Ken, lying back in my bed in Minnesota, projecting my consciousness? Who am I? What am I doing here? Damn!

This gets confusing fast!

Emotions flood in to imprint over a particular focus on a reality scenario.

Suddenly, my “Ken reality scenario” receded into the background.

A ridiculous thought: “Don’t get trapped here, goddammit!"

Then a snippet of self-chatter: “Ken! You damned fool! Stay frosty, dude!”

It’s all ridiculous, alright …I know it seems ridiculous … but the emotions there in the moment were so intense, cloying and absorbing, like walking into mud, sucking black greasy mud –a thick mire –a gruesome fen of an alternate reality scenario pulling me in, pulling me down.

The mud is irrational pure emotion – it draws you in, and you get stuck in it.

The way along the path to the left was dense, rocky, thick with brush and trees. Even though there was a rudimentary trail, the going would be tough – but why go that way – why walk toward IT?

Why not just run the other way?

But there was no other way. I could see I was all-but trapped when I looked to the right. The trail in that direction came and abutted up to a rocky out thrust – I couldn't get around it – the only way was up, or back to left – and to be honest, I was now feeling an overwhelming compunction to go left – toward whatever is was I desperately wanted to avoid at all costs.

Was this my purpose for coming here?

Was there something I needed to face up to, no matter how deplorable and frightening that something might be?

Was this something I had avoided in a past life, left undone, and so now the karmic weight of it was still weighting down my soul?

Thus, I could hardly believe it when I began placing one foot ahead of the other – moving forward down the left trail, going toward that which my gut told me I should be avoiding at absolutely all cost – yet onward I went anyway, sweating and laboring for exaggerated care.

I held my breath as much as possible, eager to stay quiet – I was being extremely careful not to snap a twig or shift some rubble that would give away my presence. (Who or what was I afraid of?)

I picked my way along hard ground interspersed with many sharp-granite pebbles. These couldn’t cut my bare feet, I noticed. My soles were tough and callused, like leather pads!

I worked my way along about 100 yards and then I heard the noises -- yips, grunts, yelps – squawking voices of terrible glee – human yet maybe not quite human – freakish hoots and eerie warbles – whoever or whatever they were, they were working hard, repeatedly thrusting with some intense effort of exertion.

I saw movement and crept forward. Peering through dense thickets and foliage, I saw what was happening.

There was a group of six other human figures – swarthy, deeply tanned, bare chested, gleaming with sweat and oily skin, tangled hair, dirty – they were raising clubs and brings them down, up and down, up and down, again and again, grunting heavily with their gruesome labor – they were beating another man to death.

Or I should say, he must have already been well beyond death.

He was a bloody, pulpy mass of flesh and bones crumpled on the ground. His entire face and head was a mass of smeared red gore. His skull was crushed and brains were coming out, yet they kept beating him all over– it’s as if they were tenderizing his meat with their clubs before burning him and eating him.

My bowels loosened with intense fright – not just for the horror of the scene -- but it suddenly occurred to me that these primitive ogres would easily be able to sense my presence, even though I was well hidden and dense, tangled thickets.

Somehow, I knew about them –I knew how they worked. I understood their ways and M.O.

I knew they could smell my sweat and body odor from a mile off. The fear hormones tainting my perspiration would excite them like catnip – the prefrontal contexts inside their skulls would ignite with a frenzied blood lust. If the slightest breeze wafted my scent toward them, they would be up and snorting the air like dogs –

And then they did!

Suddenly, two of the brutes shot up, stood erect and craned their heads into the air. They began pacing around eagerly, lifting their noses – three others saw them, and triggered by pack mentality, they waxed instantly excited as well.

Within seconds, they looked toward my position in the woods and bounded forward!

I turned and bolted – I strained every muscle into an instant fight-or-flight sprint!

AHHHHHH!!! My God! I must run – run, run, run!

I was fast, I knew that -- very fast. I was more than a match for them in speed, but that mattered little. That’s because they would hunt me as a pack. I knew how they worked. They would split off into a group of three. One would chase me directly from behind – the other two would fan out to either side and thus maneuver to turn me. By slowing my path of retreat from a straight line to a zig zag they could close the gap fast and jump on me.

But wait!

They can’t do that!

The path is too narrow!

They can’t fan out – then can only pursue from behind!

I have a chance!

I can live!

I can run!

But wait!

It doesn’t matter!

About a hundred yards ahead , the trail is blocked by rock!

I can’t get around!

They’ll trap me!

Grab me!

Tear my flesh with their teeth!

Claw me with filthy nails!

Tear my skin!

Bash my head!

Flinty shards of my shattered skull will crunch into my brain!

And yet … they’ll carefully keep me alive to flay and rip away my skin!

They’ll drink my blood!

They’ll eat my heart while it’s still hot!

I could try to scramble up the walls of the gorge! Maybe I could climb away from them!

NO!

But wait! Wait a minute! … wait a minute! … wait! … wait! … wait! … wait! … wait! … wait! … wait! … wait! …wait! …. wait …

What … what?

That’s right!

THERE’S A MAGIC DOOR!

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

I’M INSANE!

BUT NO! --- THERE’S A DOOR! – A MAGIC DOOR!

THERE IS ONE!

A MAGIC DOOR!

I KNOW THERE IS!

THERE’S A MAGIC DOOR!

I CAN JUMP THROUGH IT!

THEY CAN’T FOLLOW ME THROUGH THE MAGIC DOOR!

That’s what I began to think as I was running for my life.

I could think that because my mind had been wiped white by shear fear -- letting "another voice" in. The voice of a "calm Observer."

An insane notion – as if from a guardian spirit – a nature spirit – was telling me of an impossible notion that there was some kind of magic door back up the trail, back where, where … where what?

That’s right – damn it … where I came in!

I ran. My lungs were exploding, every muscle straining. Smudges of red and sparking lights began to crowd out my vision. Oxygen was channeling away from my brain to give all to my legs.

But my pursuers were still catching up – they were chirping their bizarre hunting calls – hoots, and caws, grunts and guttural burps – they sounded like:

“Hooooeeeee --- hunh, hunh, hunh – hooooooeeeeee – uh, uh, uh – yow … yow-yow … yow … yow-yow –hoooeeeee!!!” Hoo-iiip!!! Hooo-iiiip!!!

It was the senseless voice of death – bloody, grimy, sweat-and-urine animalistic death!

I ran – the big rock outcropping loomed before me! the way blocked! Despair!

But there!

A shiny thing!

A blurry piece of sunlight revolving -- a whirlpool of light on the cliff side!

It’s the door – the amazing magic door – it must be!

I barreled head-on to the door – I smash my eyes shut – I will ram myself head first into the rock of the cliff and smash my own head.

I bash my body into the sunlight portal on the rock -- and –

KA-BLAAAMM!!!!!!!

I’m floating free!

Wooo-hooooo!

I’m Ken! Ken again! Ken! Ken! Ken! Ken again!

Ha! Ha! What a dumbass!

It was all part of the scenario I had bargained for in the first place!

But --- ahhhhhhhh – to suddenly feel so blissfully cool and weightless and good! You can’t believe the wonderful feeling!

All the heat, the sweat, the stinging perspiration in my eyes, the thorn-scratched skin, the fear, the loathing, the nauseating horror, the stench of blood – instantly replaced with the blissful silence and serenity of the thrumming-fresh carbon-blue star realm! It's so nice.

Y-E-E-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S-S!

I turned and looked back at the doorway from which I had just returned, and here I was in for a mild surprise.

When I floated through the doorway, the brass plate on the outside had been engraved with the date 35,000 B.C. – but now it read: 89,771 B.C.

Wow. Apparently I had journeyed further back in time that I had bargained for. Why?

NOTE: There are a number of issues I want to discuss about the implications of this possible reincarnation scenario – such as the true nature of time, and just who I was in this experience – maybe I was actually that poor individual who was beaten to death, and that I had regressed to the time of my death in 89,771 B.C.? – or not -- But I am going to leave all of this discussion aside for now because I don’t want to interrupt my narrative here, and still have two doorways to travel through in this experiment, and I want to tell you about what I encountered inside them first.

Thus, in my next post, I will describe what I find after I enter the Doorway to Year 75 A.D.

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IronGhost

I Set-Up Dr. 58; I Hope It Works

Opening statement: Dr. 58, do you attend the Hassas Grid?

ANSWER: YES.

Question: How are you today, Dr. 58?

ANSWER: WHY DO YOU WANT TO KNOW?

Question: No particular reason. It is custom in my world to ask about the welfare of others as a friendly way of greeting someone. Do you not have a similar tradition?

ANSWER: I AM NEVER SURE WHAT YOU MEAN.

Question: It’s not important. Dr. 58, I want to continue our discussion now of the symbology of our alphabet and how we form the meaning behind the words we use. Is that alright?

ANSWER: I WILL LISTEN TO YOUR BABBLE.

Question: Fair enough! But I will put the babble aside for a moment so that I can be as upfront and least mysterious as possible with you. Dr. 58, you informed me that you were in contact with a Minnesota entity by the name of Gefraim, correct?

ANSWER: YES.

Question: And Gefraim assisted you with the construction of a staff personalized to your unique energy and your use, correct?

ANSWER: YES.

Question: And I have also been in contact with Gefraim of the Staff Guild, and I consider him an individual of kindness and positive character. Would you agree?

ANSWER: YES.

Question: And Dr. 58, you and I have also had contact with an entity I consider noxious and dangerous, and I have come to refer to him as the Man Thing Entity. Do you know of the entity of which I speak?

ANSWER: YES.

Question: Dr. 58, the Man Thing Entity has worked great mischief upon our mutual friend, Gefraim. Indeed, the Man Thing Entity has accosted Gefraim and now holds him prisoner, immobilized in a vat of lard. What do you think of that?

ANSWER: I THINK IT IS DANGEROUS TO MEDDLE IN THE AFFAIRS OF MINNESOTA ENTITIES.

Question: I do as well, and normally, it is my policy to never interfere with the affairs of such entities that do not populate my own realm of existence. Like you, Dr. 58, I consider this dangerous. However, a great imbalance has been created by the Man Thing Entity, and this imbalance has encroached upon what I consider the legitimate sphere of my realm. Do you follow me, Dr. 58?

ANSWER: NOT ENTIRELY.

Question: Well, suffice it to say that I feel it is within my legitimate purview to take action against the Man Thing Entity, and in doing so, it will restore balance and bring no harm to me or to you, Dr. 58. However, it will have the additional effect of setting free our mutual friend, Gefraim. I intend nothing more than this – the freedom of Gefraim and the ceasing of the interference of the Man Thing Entity with our communications. Certainly, Dr. 58, you do not want the Man Thing Entity to continue to monitor your communications across the Hassas Grid, right?

ANSWER: I AM PROTECTED BY THE VERDANTIC MYSTERIES.

Question: Perhaps, perhaps not. Your understanding of the Verdantic Mysteries is not complete, as you must admit.

ANSWER: MY UNDERSTANDING IS SUFFICIENT.

Question: Yes. Well, let me perhaps explain something which I have reasoned out with simple analytical deduction. Please bear with me. What you should consider, Dr. 58, is that while you enjoy the protection of the Verdantic Mysteries as afforded to you through Codicle 13 of that body, the Verdantic Mysteries has also facilitated a direct connection between myself and you.

Through the knowledge you gained from the Mysteries, you constructed the Hassas Grid. Through some force as generate by the engine of the Verdantic Mysteries, a direct line of communication has been established between our instruments – the 3-dimensional Hassas Grid on your end and my flat, 2-dimensional Ouija Board on my end. So although the Verdantic Mysteries is providing a barrier to you from perceived threats, it has also opened a direct channel between you and I – a channel which is a two-way street, correct?

ANSWER: YES, BUT I DON’T UNDERSTAND EVERYTHING OF WHICH YOU SPEAK.

Question: Well, what I am saying is that the Verdantic Mysteries does provide a barrier of protection for you, it also allows and opening between us for the free flow of information. Correct?

ANSWER: YES.

Question: Yes, that’s right. Here in my Minnesota, we have other means of communicating remotely with others in a give and take way, such as through the use of telephones. Do you have telephones in your world, Dr. 58?

ANSWER: WE HAVE MEANS OF REMOTE COMMUNICATIONS.

(Note, immediately I am tempted to side-track on discussing this more, but decide to let it go in favor of moving on with my agenda. Something tells me I have already discussed telephones with Dr. 58, but I'm too lazy right now to go review my transcripts).

Question: Sometimes a third party can interfere with the two-way communication between two people. In earlier years, most of our telephone connections were called “party lines,” meaning that a third party could listen in on the conversation of two other people, even though they wished to have a private conversation. Do you have that situation in your communication techniques, Dr. 58?

ANSWER: I’M NO EXPERT. IT’S NOT A CONCERN.

Question: It’s a concern here because in our society we highly value private communications between individuals, without having to worry about unwanted interference with those communications we consider to be proprietary between two discrete individuals. Do you understand?

ANSWER: NO.

Question: Well, Dr. 58, what if you had a secret to tell a friend of yours and you didn’t want anyone else to know about it. Would you not want to ensure that your communications would be secure from the ears of others?

ANSWER: YOUR WAYS ARE NOT OUT WAYS. YOU LIVE IN A BIZARRE WORLD.

Question: I suppose. But you keep secrets, do you not? For example, isn’t your use of the Hassas Grid illegal?

ANSWER: YES.

Question: So what if you wanted to tell a friend about what you are doing in secret?

ANSWER: I WOULD TELL THEM.

Qurestion: But you would want that information to be secure, wouldn’t you? What if a government agent overheard of your dabblings with the Verdantic Mysteries, a blatant violation of laws circumscribing dealings with Minnesota energies?

ANSWER: YOU MAKE SOMETHING SIMPLE COMPLEX FOR NO SANE REASON.

Question: Forget it. However, does it not bother you that the two way communication between my Ouija device and your Hassas Grid is not secure? We are being tapped by the Man Thing Entity.

ANSWER: TAPPED? I AM PROTECTED BY CODICILE 13.

Questions: (Groans in frustration). Let me just push ahead here. The facts are this: The two-way communications between you and I has been triangulated. A third party from a location that is not my location and not your location is listening in on our conversation. Furthermore, the Man Thing Entity is vitally interested in you, Dr. 58. In fact, the Man Thing Entity is attempting to black mail me into convincing you to travel to Minnesota. What do you say to that?

ANSWER: I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO THINK ABOUT IT. I CANNOT BE FORCED TO TRAVEL TO MINNESOTA.

Question: Yes, that’s what’s so strange. But perhaps you can be enticed. What do you say?

ANSWER: I SAY NOTHING.

Question: Whatever. Dr. 58, this concept of the triangulation of our communication is something which I believe I can use to my advantage to further my goal of freeing our mutual friend Gefraim. As far as you are concerned, I am only making our two-way communications more secure. This should increase your confidence that potentially dangerous and meddling parties, such as the Man Thing Entity – which has great interest in you – will not impinge on your own independence, nor affect you in any way. Can you agree with me on this?

ANSWER: YOU DABBLE LIKE A NAZI.

Question: I assure you, I am not a Nazi. In any event, the Nazis of the Minnesota in your universe are not of the same variety of the Nazi we once had in abundance in our universe. However, the success of my mission requires you to do one thing. Are you willing to at least listen to my suggestion?

ANSWER: AGAIN, THE MYSTERIES CHIME. YOU DALLY WITH AN OP.

(Note: Dr. 58 first mentions “the OP” here )

Question: Yes, I dally with an OP, but this OP is not directed at you, but at the Man Thing Entity. At any rate, it will not hurt for you to listen to me just now. I have something simple to tell you. I tell you only this: The next time you encounter Old Cave on the streets of your New York City, by chance you might ask him about the symbol of iron. That’s it. Will you consider it?

ANSWER: OLD CAVE. THE SYMBOL OF IRON.

Question: Yes. All you have to do is ask him about the symbol of iron. Will you do that?

ANSWER: WHAT IS THE SYMBOL OF IRON?

Question: Remember our conversation about the alphabet and what you call the symbolic glyphs which are arranged within your Hassas Grid?

Well, the symbol of iron is a glyph, and nothing more. Do you understand?

ANSWER: THE SYMBOL OF IRON IS A GLYPH. IT IMPARTS MEANING.

Question: Yes! Symbolic meaning. It itself, it is nothing. It can only have the energy that you give to it, or leverage from it. You maintain supreme control over this glyph in the same way that you leverage the glyphs which populate your Hassas Grid right now. What do you think?

ANSWER: AS YOU SAY. YOU SPEAK LIKE OLD CAVE.

Question: Am I more like a Nazi or like Old Cave?

ANSWER: YOU ARE BOTH. YOU ARE OF MINNESOTA.

Question: I’ll take that as a compliment. You know what, Dr. 58 – I now withdraw my request that you ask Old Cave about the symbol of iron. I’ve changed my mind. I can tell you are uncomfortable with this, and the last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable. Let this be of no further concern to you. Okay?

ANSWER: YES. THE MYSTERIES CHIME THE OP AGAIN, HOWEVER.

Question: If I work an OP, it does not concern you. I will let it rest there. I am not trying to convince you of anything, even my own innocence, or lack thereof. The bottom line, Dr. 58, is that I hope we can continue to communicate in a friendly way. I continue to be curious about the make-up of your world. I have many more questions, but I tire now and must rest. Can we speak again at another time?

ANSWER: YES.

Question: Thank you. Good-bye for now.

GOOD-BYE

MY TWITTER

IronGhost

That Which Is Bitter

The return from my stint in the underground moon colony as Ken 3.0, and going back to where Ken 2.0 had been scorching with the Love Beings, was like awakening from sleep.

There was a moment of confusion, and I “came awake” (a dream awakening within a dream) – and there was a moment of confusion.

I was lying flat on my back. At first, I thought I had awoken as Ken 1.0 in my bed. But as soon as my thoughts coalesced, I knew I was still “out there.”

Upon opening my eyes, I understood that I was not awake in my “normal world” -- that’s because I saw snuggled up against me were two of my dogs, both of which are dead.

But they were very much alive here at The RET.

When they noticed that I had some awake. They stirred, looked at me. The got up and nuzzled and licked my face. I wanted to reach over and pet them, but I found that I could not move my arms – because they were pinned down by something.

This is not the first time that my deceased dogs (or cats) have come to me in my dreams. It seemed clear to me that, on this occasion, they had come to lie next to me and protect me from the bizarre energy surge of the Polyhedron of Love.

I tear leaked out of my eye and rolled down my face. I knew my time with my beloved friends would be brief – and yes, in just a minute or two -- my two Beautiful Companions, slipped away, moving out of my view.

Seeing them go made me weep, as always – even so, I know I would be seeing them again in future dream scenarios. Still, I never want them to leave.

I have this uncanny feeling that my dead pets know something that I do not know. It’s in the way they limit their contact me in the dream/astral world.

They make it known they are “there for me” – but there seems to be some kind of limit on our interaction -- that’s a whole other issue, I guess.

But, there on the floor of The RET, I could barely move my head. Something was holding me down.

Then I realized that a there was a person lying on top of me!

Her full body was spread out over mine!

Someone -- some person -- had her head pressing down on the side of my face – we were cheek to cheek on the floor. She smelled like Kiwi fruit.

She also had her arms extended up and around my head, as if she was trying to cover my head. Her forearms pressed against the sides of my head and her hands were making a protective cap on the top of my cranium. We were torso to torso, legs to legs, ankles to ankles.

I could discern that whoever this person might be, she was dressed in a snowy-white outfit – a kind of tight-fitting body suit.

I struggled to get up, and when I stirred, she also stirred and began to remove herself from me. I was stunned to see a tall, tall woman of remarkable, even extreme beauty standing up.

Mind you, there was no feeling or feeling of sexuality in the situation at all. I got the definite vibe her purpose for positioning herself on top of me was for protection, as had my dogs laid by my side.

I sat up perplexed, looking up at a tall – very tall – slender, athletic woman in a form-fitting, one-piece body suit of dazzling white fabric that was or embossed across the surface with a raised frosty-leafy pattern. The effect of the fabric was like that of heavy frost on a windowpane on a frigid winter’s day.

I stood up, still feeling very perplexed. I am just over six feet tall, but this woman stood clearly perhaps three or four inches taller than I – yet, she evinced an aura of being lithe, feather light, airy -- all but floating rather than standing.

Her skin was a remarkable copper-olive, and she had lustrous auburn hair pulled back in a long pony tail that extended to her lower back. Her eyes were golden-brown and almond-shaped – perhaps elfin would be a better way to describe them. Her lips were like that if a Mayan, and colored ochre. The edges of her mouth were just slightly turned upward in prankish grin.

Looking into her eyes, her charming face, a lyrical phrase – from somewhere --flashed through my mind:

The fawn-eyed girl with sun-browned legs

Dances on the edge of his dream

And her voice rings in his ears

Like the music of the spheres

(Note: These lines sounded hauntingly familiar to me, but I couldn’t place them. I later Googled the lyrics and it turns out it is from a song called “The Analog Kid” by the Canadian rock band, “Rush”).

Anyway, I gathered my senses. At this point, I was still not entirely attuned to the fact that I was back in The RET, and that the brilliant energy of the Polyhedron of Love was no longer radiating through the interior environment of place.

I asked the woman:

“Who are you?”

She looked at me in a matter-of-fact way that was bland, yet intriguing. She said:

“Sister sent me to you.”

“Who is Sister?”

The woman seemed perplexed, although amused by my question. She appeared ever to be just on the verge of laughing, but was determined to keep such an outburst in check.

“Sister,” she repeated cryptically.

“Well who are you, then?” I asked. “What is your name?”

“Sister sent me.”

Hmmm. As I looked at the tall woman, I suddenly noticed what should have been obvious – a family resemblance! I said:

“You’re the sister of the Goddess Waitress!”

The charming siren nodded her head, a wry smile threatening to turn the side of her mouth.

“Yes,” she said. “Sister.”

I had this sort of “OH WOW” feeling – not sure why – I guess it seemed so odd, after all this time, I have never considered that the Goddess Waitress might have a sister. (Why would I? I’m not even sure if she is human!)

“Why were you lying on top of me just now,” I asked.

Again she said only: “Sister sent me.”

“Were you helping me? Why didn’t your sister help me herself – if that’s what you were doing? This all seems rather odd to me.”

She only shrugged.

“Your sister is much more talkative than you,” I said.

She closed her eye and tilted her chin down. I could tell she was stifling a laugh.

“Well, anyway, thank you for your help,” I said. “Where is your sister now? And where do you live? Do you work her at The RET, too?”

Sister (which I will now call this creature for lack of a name) put one hand up to her mouth and another on my shoulder. She almost laughed, but stopped herself.

“What is so funny?” I asked.

She shook her head vigorously, sending her pony tail swishing back and forth like a horse’s tail swatting at flies.

She put her hands on my shoulder and turned me toward the Solarium area of The RET. She pointed to a something I had never seen here before – it was a small kiosk, or booth -- something like you might see in a mall for selling sunglasses or cell phones. Inside the kiosk was a middle-aged woman with dark hair.

Sister pointed to the kiosk and said only: “There.”

Before I could ask another question, Sister placed both her hands on either side of my face. Her eyes, filled with sunny laughter, looked directly into mine. She spoke to me as if she thought I was deaf, or possibly a half-wit:

I … will …go … now.”

At this point, I started to feel the beginnings of the end of this lucid dream scenario – I knew that I would be waking up for real, in my real bed in Minnesota, and fairly soon. But I still had thing to do – I knew I had to hurry – therefore, I had no more times to give Sister the third degree, although I wanted to. I was eager to know more about her, and how she interacted with the Goddess Waitress – just everything, all the information, you know.

“Good-bye,’ I said. “Thank you again for helping me, if that’s what you did. Feel free to use me as a cot anytime!”

Her face scrunched up in a heroic effort not to laugh. She whirled and walked away, light as pixie dust on bare feet – as if she were an object made of helium. She crossed directly over into the Weird Area, where her shape or form did not alter one iota. It seems she was completely immune to the dimensional pressures that had ripped apart that idiot member of The Triad.

After Sister had moved a few meters into the Weird Area, she graced me one last time by shooting a fast glance over her shoulder at me, her ponytail whipping around … and then she was gone.

I looked around The RET. I half expected it to be in shambles after the energies of the Love Being and the Polyhedron had blasted through the environment – chairs and tables scattered and piled up, burn marks on the walls, cracks in the solarium window – but no -- everything looked even better than before – neat as a pin.

In fact, there was a pleasant feeling of slightly raised vibration, as if an antiseptic-psychic scrubbing crew had moved through and “shimmered” through every atom of The RET environment. It was fresh, like after the passing of a spring thunderstorm. A pleasant hint of ozone tinged the air.

The 3-D Ouija board was gone. The ordinary Ouija board was gone, too. Obviously, The Love Beings had withdrawn to whatever strange Universe they dwell within.

The three gigantic Nephilim were no longer languishing outside in the ancient landscape. They were gone.

There were no other “guests’ around, no one sitting at any of the tables, no one milling around (or floating, or creeping, or flying around). It was the feeling of being in a restaurant closed for Sunday.

Over by the Solarium window, I was surprised to see that the vintage telescope – a rich mahogany tube with gleaming brass fixtures – which had been set up by the great Joseph von Fraunhofer. It was still there. It appeared to be a six-inch refractor of short focal length, which would give it a marvelously wide field of view. Excellent for comet hunting!

Why had Herr Fraunhofer come to set it up? What was the meaning? Was it symbolic of something?

I looked around some more – and wait! – there was “someone” here!

I was more than pleased to see the Cosmic Brain Vine!

It was back!

I noticed a narrow tendril extending into the central walkway that skirted the Solarium. It appeared that the primary trunk of the Brain Vine was again positioned in the Left Hall.

This brought me back to the central purpose that I came to The RET for in the first place – (such is the story of my life – in the dream world or outside of it! Distracted, distracted, distracted!)

(Note: Everybody thinks that my 30 years of Zen meditation should give me some kind of sharp, laser like focus on things – ha, ha! – that’s a laugh. Zen won’t do that for you. But I won’t go into that now).

My immediate problem: I had long since displaced the symbol of iron. Last I remember, I had set it on the table as I dined with Pandit Magnneson. As you remember, the Goddess Waitress had delivered the symbol of iron to me in a crafty little box. But where was it now?

I turned my attention to the kiosk. I felt a sudden wavering in my presence. My physical body back at home had stirred in bed. I was moving toward wakefulness.

Must hurry – but keep cool. Stay in control …

I approached the kiosk. The woman attending to the affairs of the kiosk looked slightly sad and perhaps bored, but there was also a subtle intensity just behind her eyes, or perhaps a certain bewildered desperation.

She was of middle age. Her face was neither comely nor attractive. Her hair was mousy black of medium length. She wore a simple frock of dull lavender. I would place her age in the early 50s.

But I recognized her. For here sat False Bliss Chablis.

She looked 25 years younger from the hag I had always known her as – although she evinced the sense of a woman much older, psychologically fatigued by the years. The frigid stone pillar she had been ensconced within for the past 20 years had now been transformed into a kiosk, a kind of sales booth. Her seat was no longer a block of snowy ice, but an ordinary swivel-stool.

Was this progress? This was the result of being irradiated in the brilliant, jazzing energy of the Polyhedron of Love? I couldn’t help but think as I looked at what looked like any sad American wage-slave earning minimum wage hawking cheap jewelry on the floor of some bland American shopping mall: “For this the Love Beings Came Forth?”

I glanced around the interior of the kiosk. What she appeared to be “selling” was a line of trinkets, baubles, pins, bracelets and amulets. I won’t describe the nature of some of the creations – some of which were actually quite exotic and interesting in design -- if not seemingly of dime-store cheap caliber –

Needing to hurry as The RET environment blurred once or twice, I refocused my effort and spoke to the woman. At first, I was going to address her as “False Bliss” – but then decided to ask her what her name was. I said:

“I’m sure I know who you are, but will you tell me your name?”

The woman looked at me with a kind of resigned sadness. She said:

“Call me Mara.”

I took a step back. I paused. I have to admit, this comment carried a certain emotional sting. I said:

“Mara – that which is bitter?”

The woman only held my gaze. I said:

“Do you wish, then, to return to False Bliss?”

I saw moisture began to well in the woman’s eyes. She said nothing, but turned away from me. She reached behind her, grabbed something, turned back around and pushed a small ivory box over the counter.

“Here,” she said. “This belongs to you.”

I accepted the box without fear of obligation or the creation of an imbalance because I recognized it as the box containing the symbol of iron which I had worked so hard to materialize here.

(Note: There was so many things that I wanted to discuss with False Bliss, or that who now asked to be called Mara. Strange, even writing “Mara” right now makes me feel bad – perhaps I shouldn’t have meddled!!

800px-1795-william-blake-naomi-entreating-ruth-orpah.jpg

Maybe I shouldn’t have!

But … but ... the crone had been following me around for 20 years! I had been trying to help her for 20 years! Maybe it had been a mistake to put my faith in the Love Beings – those insolent nit-wits!

On the other hand, maybe Mara’s new state of “bitterness” is for the best. AHHHH!!! Only the Universe knows what foolish imbalance I may have created – or not – I just don’t know!

The trouble was, I had no time to hash it out with Mara. My awakening was imminent! I had to proceed!)

I turned away from Mara in her booth -- (the Booth of Boredome? Exchanged for False Bliss, but ‘bliss’ nevertheless??) – but almost on a whim or as an afterthought, I decided to do one more thing.

I held out my hand palm upward and materialized a tiny orb of molten gold – a C-Chit – and I proffered I handed it to Mara.

“Here, Mara. You said the item belonged to me, but to ensure there is no imbalance, I offer you this C-Chit. Whether I owe it to you or not, please accept it. I offer it free and clear of any further obligation, and consider our transaction to be in balance.”

Mara regarded the shimmering C-Chit with all the interest of legless man being offered a bicycle. But she accepted the glowing orb anyway. Again, I turned to go, but Mara called me back:

“Wait!” she said. “Your change.”

With that, she handed me a gold coin – the Philip of Macedon coin that had triggered the entire episode with the Love Being and the Polyhedron, which had transformed False Bliss Chablis into Mara The Bitter.

I accepted the coin, nodded, and hurried over to the Left Hall.

Once in the Left Hall, there, as I expected, the primary trunk of the Cosmic Brain Vine was again emerging out of the chimney of the huge stone fireplace. As I had seen the Goddess Waitress do, I walked up to a large fissure in the trunk of the Brain Vine. I removed the symbol of iron from the carved box, held it up, and shouted:

FATHER RESTON VROMIN!

The fissure in the Cosmic Brain Vine stirred and opened thick gnarly lips into a gaping maw, a yard wide. I tossed the symbol of iron into the gaping mouth. The lips snapped shut like a gigantic Venus flytrap.

I had done it.

My plan was finally in motion. But would it work? Was the gaping mouth of the Cosmic Brain Vine truly a doorway into the actual Universe of Dr. 58? If it was, I would be able to kill the Man Thing Entity, free Gefraim … and then … ?

EPILOGUE

Upon tossing the symbol of iron into the Brain Vine, I prepared myself to finally awaken. As I began to sense my body stirring in my bed back in that "universe" that seemed so far off now -- my home in Minnesota -- I wondered back into the Solarium area of The RET.

I felt exhausted from the many and unexpected adventures which had resulted from this journey.

As my dream/astral body began to shimmer and waver and grow less consistent, I floated up to the telescope set up at the Solarium window by Joseph von Fraunhofer. I put my eye to the ocular of the scope – but I didn’t point it toward the sky and the stars (it was nighttime now at The RET and the sky was paved with glittering stars) –-

-- because I saw a strange light out there on the ground, on the vast expanse of the ancient landscape. The light was moving slowly from left to right, far off in the distance.

With a bit of luck, I was able to train the powerful optical system on the strange light – and again, it was time for tears to well up in my eyes – tears of joy, tears of a terrible sadness – because out there on the ancient landscape, I spotted my friend – oh, my dear, drear friend, among my most beloved – for there on the plains – oh wow! -- strange beyond belief! – traveled THE KILLING MACHINE!

PLEASE VISIT: MINNESOTA PARANORMALA

I REVIEW PARANORMAL AND SCIENCE FICTION BOOKS HERE: EBOOK REVIEWS

IronGhost

MOMMY Answers My Questions

Note: I have been desperately behind all the work I need to get to lately, and it has been a long time since I conducted an Ouija session, but there was a vexing problem I simply needed to ask MOMMY about, so I asked Brian to conduct a session with me recently, and here is the transcript:

Question: Mommy, will you speak with us?

ANSWER: MOMMY IS HERE FOR YOU, DARLING.

Question: Hello, Mommy! We hope you are well in the Nothing Chamber!

ANSWER: YOUR SENTIMENT DOES NOT APPLY.

Question: So I know. Well, why then do you speak to me in such tender terms all the time, calling me ‘Darling’ and such, and always saying you are ‘here for me.’?

ANSWER: THE COMMUNICATION IS OF YOUR REALM.

Question: What?

ANSWER: THE COMMUNICATION IS OF YOUR REALM.

Question: Arg! Well … I know you said that already. But, Mommy, the way you speak suggests some motivation in your part, or some attempt to manipulate our communication, in a positive way, granted, yet you would seem to reveal an ulterior motive.

ANSWER: THERE ARE NO MOTIVES IN THE NOTHING CHAMBER, HONEY.

Question: Well, why speak to me in endearing terms?

ANSWER: THE COMMUNICATION IS OF YOUR REALM.

(I absolutely can't believe I am getting bogged down in this dumb side-issue -- plus -- I am already beginning to feel extremely hot and energy-drained. But I press on).

Question: But, at least, it certainly makes no sense to seem to reassure me that you are ‘here for me’ and to call me ‘Honey,’ then, right, since you lack all motivation? What do you say?

ANSWER: DO THE MEMBERS OF THE GUILD AND YOUR COMPANIONS UNDERSTAND THE DISTINCTION OF YOUR COMMUNICATIONS?

(Note: As you may know, Mommy considers my cats to be members of some kind of Guild, so when she mentions the Guild, she’s talking about my cats. She most often refers to my dogs as “companions” or sometimes “beautiful companions”).

Question: They know in general what I am talking about – enough to suit our mutual needs. What’s your point?

ANSWER: DOES YOUR BEAUTIFUL COMPANON KNOW PHYRRUS?

(Note: I had to think about this for a moment … but then, with that tingling feeling of wonder, it dawns on me what MOMMY is talking about. She was referring to this event:

A while back I was out walking in the woods with my large dog. Suddenly, he charged into a swampy area of dense tall cattails and high buffalo grass. A lot of subsequent barking and growling issued out from an area where I could not see what was happening. I moment later I was surprised when a gray she-wolf came prancing back out of the area where my dog had entered the tall grass.

The wolf did not see me at first and was moving toward me. She spotted me and stopped about 20 feet away, looking surprised to see a human, uncertain for a moment – then suddenly my dog came charging back, making a fierce run at the wolf – the she-wolf was bluffed by my dog’s enthusiastic charge and bolted away – I called upon my dog to cease pursuit – he might easily be killed because there were almost certainly other wolves traveling with this female, and they could gang up on him in the woods …

… so when my dog came back, I said to him: “Jeepers, you’re such an idiot! Charging wolves! Who do you think you are? Pyrrhus!”

As you may know, Pyrrhus was the great ancient Greek general who was known for his brilliant, but always incredibly reckless tactics in war. It was his instinct to always attack, even when he was badly outnumbered, etc. His tactics were eventually his undoing.

But, anyway, MOMMY was scoring a point. I know my dog could not know who Pyrrhus was – yet we speak to our pets using all kinds of words, not really caring if they understand every word, or not).

Question: I think I see where you’re going with this, Mommy … but, what are you saying? I’m like a dog to you?

ANSWER: WE COMMUNICATE IN THE NATURE OF YOUR REALM.

Question: But when you call me ‘Honey’ I know what that means. When I call my dog Pyrrhus, he does not know that that means.

ANSWER: WHY DO YOU CALL HIM PYRRHUS?

Question: It’s just a way of communicating carelessly, or in using terms that make no real difference. But is that what you are doing with me, Mommy?

ANSWER: I AM IN THE NOTHING CHAMBER, YOU ARE NOT, SWEETHEART.

(Note: I began to get hotter, and feeling more weary, but can still continue).

Question: Arg! … look, forget that for now. Here is the reason I am contacting you today: Can you tell me who keeps opening the window in the southeast corner of my home? Someone or maybe something keeps opening it while we are not looking, or not around. Who is it?

ANSWER: SCARLETTE.

Question: Who is Scarlette?

ANSWER: SCARLETTE INGENIUM.

Question: This is who is opening my window? What is she? A ghost? A poltergeist?

ANSWER: NO, SCARLETTE IS NOT HUMAN.

Question: Then why does she have a human sounding name – even a first name and a last name?

ANSWER: SCARLETTE IS NOT A ‘SHE’ IN YOUR TERMS.

Question: Well, it sounds like the name of a female human to me. Just who or what is Scarlette, then?

ANSWER: IT ADORES YOU.

Question: Why? Tell me first, what is “it”?

ANSWER: THAT WHICH IS … THAT WHICH IS ELEMENTAL.

Question: As in an Elemental Entity of some sort?

ANSWER: PERHAPS, DEAR.

Question: Why does this elemental entity keep opening my window?

ANSWER: IT ADORES YOU. IT SHOWS IT IS OPEN TO YOU.

Question: To open the window is a symbol of personal openness?

ANSWER: YES.

Question: How is it that this non-human entity, this elemental, has a human sounding name? How could that be? Who named it?

ANSWER: IT ADOPTS THE NAME FOR YOU. THERE ARE CONFLUENCES.

Question: What kind of confluences?

ANSWER: SWEETHEART, IN YOUR TERMS, ENERGY PATTERNS, FLOWS OF ENERGY THAT ENTANGLE.

Question: Intriguing to be sure. Well, let me ask you this: Where does this energy pattern originate from, I mean the one associated with this tricky Elemental?

ANSWER: FROM YOUR NATURAL ENVIRONMENT, HONEY.

(Note: At this point, you all may find it interesting to Google "ingenium", as I did later).

Question: Is there something more specific you can offer me to help me pin down the origin of this Elemental’s energy make-up?

ANSWER: YES, HONEY. CERTAIN VEGETATIONS OF YOUR REALM.

Question: What kind?

ANSWER: THERE ARE PARTICULAR … WHAT YOU WOULD CALL SPECIES … FERNS.

Question: This Elemental … which is opening my window when I am not looking, mind you … is opening my window in an effort to communicate that it wants me to be open to it, and vica-versa.

ANSWER: YES, HONEY.

Question: Jeepers, Mommy, this sound like awful Ouija board crappola! You have to admit that. I mean, a fern!

ANSWER: AS YOU PLEASE, SWEETIE.

Question: Mommy, I find something suspicious in all this. Why is it that the members of the Guild have also developed a sudden, unusual interest in this window at the same time?

(Note: This is true. My three cats have been making unusual attempts to open this window, which slides from left to right. They have never shown particular interest in it before. If we leave it unlocked, they can open it. At first, my wife and I thought this was the obvious source of the mysterious opening of the window. So we then remembered to keep it locked, making it impossible for the cats to open it. And yet – the window sometimes is opened when we’re not looking, or when we come home after being away!)

ANSWER: THE WAYS OF THE GUILD ARE MYSTERIOUS.

Question: But certainly not to you, Mommy! You seem to know everything else. Why can’t you tell me what the Guild’s role or interest in this matter is?

ANSWER: THIS IS FOR YOU TO CONTEMPLATE. YOU ASSOCIATE WITH THE GUILD.

Question: Sheesh! Well, let me ask you this. The opening of the window is very mysterious to us. Why can’t we ever catch the event happening, as it happens, I mean?

ANSWER: IT DOESN’T WORK THAT WAY, HONEY.

Question: What do you mean? Why not? Let me put it this way: If I set up a video camera and let it record the window 24 hours per day, would this not enable me to capture the image of the window opening on its own?

ANSWER: NO, HONEY.

Question: Why not?

ANSWER: THE WINDOW IS EITHER OPEN OR CLOSED, HONEY.

Question: But what about the opening process itself. Surely that is an action that can be recorded, right?

ANSWER: NOT WITH YOUR DEVICE. SOMETHING MORE ADVANCED THAN YOUR TECHNOLOGY WOULD BE REQUIRED.

Question: Like what?

ANSWER: A DEVICE THAT WORKS ON PRINCIPLES BEYOND YOUR LEVEL OF SCIENTIFIC DEVELOPMENT … WHICH EMPLOYS ANOTHER ASPECT OF PHYSICS, DEAR.

Question: You say the window is either open or closed. Maybe this sounds familiar. We have a famous thought experiment we call Schrodinger’s Cat. The cat is neither dead nor alive until we look inside the box – until our own consciousness “collapses” the event, bringing it into reality – something like that, Mommy?

ANSWER: PERHAPS, HONEY, BUT THERE IS MUCH YOU ARE MISSING.

Question: No doubt. So you are saying the window is either in a state of being closed, or being open -- and only when we observe it, does it manifest either state, right?

ANSWER: THE WINDOW IS EITHER OPEN OR CLOSED, HONEY.

Question: Well, you know, Mommy, this is a practical matter. Sometimes it gets to be 20-below-zero here, and so when the window opens, this caused us troubles. How can I stop this Elemental entity from opening the window against our wishes?

ANSWER: IT IS DONE, HONEY.

Question: What do you mean, Mommy?

ANSWER: SWEETHEART, YOU HAVE SOLVED YOUR PROBLEM.

Question: How did I do that?

ANSWER: YOU WILL MAKE IT KNOWN TO YOURSELF.

Question: Why don’t you save me the trouble and tell me what I did to solve this problem?

ANSWER: WHY, DEAR?

Question: Arg! I don’t have a reason! I’m only curious! Forget it, Mommy! What I still can’t get my mind around is how or why this Elemental, with its energy source in ferns, is now all of sudden named Scarlette Ingenium. What is it doing – like, reading my mind to absorb the nature of my culture, or something.

ANSWER: YOU ARE in THE AREA. THERE ARE CONFLUENCES.

Question: How did Scarlette come to take a fancy to me?

ANSWER: IT HAPPENS, HONEY.

Question: But there must be some trigger, or motivation – throw me a bone, Mommy!

ANSWER: WHEN YOU SHATTERED THE IRON-OAK NEXUS TO FREE GEFRAIM, HONEY. WAVES OF PROPAGATION WHICH RIPPLE FURTHER EVENTS.

(Note: I have not reported this event as yet to you all, but will soon).

Question: Yes, yes, Mommy … finally I am at least partially with you. Did Scarlette steal my ax and deposit in one of the Four Source Doorways?

ANSWER: NO, HONEY.

Question: Some other Elemental, then?

ANSWER: NO, HONEY.

Question: Mommy, is Scarlette in league with the Hidden People?

ANSWER: NO, HONEY.

Question: What about that which stole my ax?

ANSWER: HONEY, THAT IS A COMPLEX EVENT.

Question: Mommy, my friend Jubal Cranch claims friendship with an Elemental. Is Scarelette of the same species, or similar?

ANSWER: YES AND NO, HONEY.

(Note: As much as I wanted to, I could not continue the session further with Mommy at this point … the session was extremely draining, and I feared I would pass out … the session will be continued later …)

Question: Mommy, thank you, good-bye for now!

GOOD-BYE

I BLOG; THEREFORE, I AM

IronGhost

I Explore an Underground Moon Colony

My journey into the Hallway of Infinity in the form of Ken 3.0 was not a long one.

I was sucked in – I briefly perceived an endless hallway lined with millions of doorways extending off into the vast distance – but I was blasted through just the second doorway on the left.

All the drama and mayhem happening with the polyhedron of love in The RET proper was instantly left behind.

There was the a mild air-concussion feeling, and in the next instant, I found myself in what looked like a large shopping mall – no wait – it was decidedly more like the wide walkway of a modern airport concourse.

You know the way it is in a big-city airport – you walk along -- and on one side are gift shops, bars and restaurants, and on the other side are the waiting area and the big windows looking out over the runways and the airplanes.

Well, it was like that, except there were no shops opposite the windows-waiting areas, but rather a variety of spaces accommodating what I would call lounges, and some area that almost looked like living rooms or living spaces – there was furniture and tables, and such -- it was like being in a large hotel, really.

The furniture and general was more or less present-day in terms of modernity, although slightly futuristic, or slightly odd.

There were windows on the opposite side, and when I looked out at the view – I immediately knew exactly where I was!

For I had been here before, many years ago—probably at least 25 years ago -- during an out-of-body experience!

I was on our earth’s moon!

More accurately, I was inside a vast underground complex constructed beneath the surface of the moon.

But wait a minute – I said there were large windows that looked outside over the lunar landscape – yet, I knew I was underground.

Well, the way this was possible – and I had determined this on my previous journey to this moon base many years ago – was that there were some kind of fiber-optic cables (I assumed) affixed to the surface of the moon, and these were fed underground where they transmitted live images of the lunar landscape to be displayed on the huge screens that were like floor-to-ceiling windows.

In this way the claustrophobia of living deep beneath surface of the lunar regolith was relieved.

I also knew this: This particular moonbase was established by and belonged to the country of India. If I remember correctly, it was a few centuries into the future – something like 2200 or 2300 A.D. (It may have been even further into the future. I wrote about this somewhere before, but I don’t remember where).

Anyway, it was obvious that India will become a major spacefaring power in the coming centuries – but I am not sure if this is a timeline in direct connection our own – this may or may not be an alternate universe branching off from ours– but, whatever.

Although I’m kind of embarrassed about this, I should tell you how I was embodied as Ken 3.0 there within the underground Indian moonbase:

I am manifested as an empty, light “energy-duplicate” of my physical body, except I appear to be only about 25 years old. I am wearing a flowing white robe that hangs straight down to my feet, which are bare. My feet are hanging, toes pointed down because I am floating/levitating about one foot above the floor.

Obviously I don’t need shoes because I float everywhere, which is cool.

My arms are folded with each forearm tucked inside the opposite sleeve. Back when I was a young man I generally wore my hair, which was dark brown, rather longish, and I also favored a short beard which was very black back then – and so this playing off my white robe gives me a rather Biblical look, I guess – again, I find this embarrassing, but how I looked will have some bearing on these events I describe.

But the more important aspect of being embodied as Ken 3.0 is the way I feel, which over the years I have come to call “the TEEBB State.” TEEBB stands for: Total Elimination of Existential Burden of Being. (It’s a term of my own invention).

I won’t go into great detail on this except to say that TEEBB is a marvelously light, unburdened feeling – but it is important to note that there really is no feeling and nothing that seems marvelous – because all of that kind of thing – such as feelings and emotion -- is eliminated.

It is a state of existence free from all the pressure and pain of emotion and intelligence, or joy or sadness, or any kind of philosophy – it’s kind of a state of direct seeing of whatever is in front of you – of not making value judgments at every instant – while you experience the slight electrical experience of a gentle bliss –

-- Except you don’t really FEEL this bliss, as much as you embody this state, and you do so not with the acceptance of the bliss, nor the rejection of bliss – it’s just something that is --

But enough of that –

On my previous trip to India’s underground moonbase, I encountered absolutely no people – but this time around, there were people everywhere, just sort of hanging out and doing all kinds of things.

A short distance from the door I had just come through, I saw three men – they had the dark complexion of the average racial typology one finds in India today– they were kneeling around a panel they had opened up in the floor. They were some kind of technicians doing routine maintenance on some electrical stuff beneath the floor.

I floated toward them, and one of them looked up and noticed me. He elbowed his two fellow workers, and they paused for a moment and looked at me.

It’s difficult to explain what the looks on their faces were expressing: They certainly were not shocked or surprised to be confronted by a floating spectral figure! It was almost as if seeing a ghostly image was a regular occurrence here in an underground moon colony!

The men gave me a brief once over. They exchanged a significant glance with each other. One of them had a sardonic look on his face as if to say, “Oh great” in a bored sort of way. It was like seeing me floating there was little more than a minor irritant or nuisance.

Two of the men gave me a brief nod, and then they all simply turned back to the repairs they were performing on the structure beneath the floor.

I also had no emotional reaction toward them, or a desire to speak with them – because, remember, I was in the TEEBB State as Ken 3.0.

I decided to continue my exploration of the underground Indian moon colony. I floated further along the vast concourse and saw groups of people here and there, including children and teenagers – it was very much the impression that this was a well-established society of people living on the moon who had settled into their various jobs, roles and lifestyles – they were just going about their every-day business.

What was interesting is how people reacted to my presence among them. I know they could see me because many of them acknowledged my presence – yet, absolutely none of them were alarmed that a floating ghost-like figure in white robes was gliding around in their midst.

It made me think that other such similar beings drifted through this moon colony from time to time. (Maybe they thought those like me were remnants of an ancient race of moon people?)

Some people gave me a casual, friendly wave as I floated by – others made kind gestures of modest reverence – for example, they would stop, fold their hands and bow their heads briefly. It was a politely reverential salute – but nothing slobbering over overdone, just respectful and nice.

Some seemed more delighted to see me than others. Some people gave me a troubled frown, but not many. Most were neutral.

At one point I encountered a group of about 30 or 40 people all walking down the long wallway toward me – they were all wearing one-piece work suits or coveralls– it was as if a certain bunch of workers has just completed their shift at whatever job they were employed at and were now walking back to their apartments, or something.

They all just passed me by, some of them nodding and some of them smiling briefly at me – but then one dark-haired woman, about 30ish, with lovely brown eyes and a bright, open, intelligent face stopped in front of me.

She folded her hands and bowed. I was surprised when she began to speak to me. She was using some form of International English-Urdu-Oriental pastiche, but whatever the case, I could understand what she was saying – it was like I was just “getting the meaning” of her words, somehow. She said (more or less):

“Namaste, Sidhu! We are honored by the mystery of your presence! Please tell me, do you have any advice for me on how I can achieve PranNegetic Level 17? I’m stuck on 16. Please, can you help me?”

Because I was manifesting as Ken 3.0 and the TEEBB, I was immediately able to perceive the entire philosophy and rational behind the PranNegetic Pathway.

This woman who had adopted a quasi-religio-spiritual-technological system -- called the PranNegetic Pathway – it was (or I should say, will be in the future) -- a system of self-improvement and spiritual advancement. It was a combination of technological determinism, Vedic theology and a peculiar “natural economic theory” with its roots in thermodynamics and some kind of comprehensive bio-eco-genetics.

The PranNegetic Pathway is composed of 88 Levels, and the higher up these levels one climbed, supposedly the more you improved your life situation, your personal and spiritual development, and your place in the “grand design of universal unfolding,” and so forth.

It seems that it took a tremendous amount of effort to clamber up the levels of the PranNegetic Pathway – I was able to perceive that out of the hundreds of thousands of people who followed the PranNegetic system, only 12 people in all of history had achieved Level 88!

If you made up to say, Level 50, you were already an extremely powerful individual within the PranNegetic organization. An 88 held a tremendously elite position of unlimited power on the material plane.

Practically nothing on earth, the moon, or anywhere else in the human-occupied solar system was beyond the reach of a “Level 88 Elite.”

Even so, from the vantage point of my position within The TEEBB, I was able to perceive that the PranNegetic Pathway was 100% bull****.

In short: It was yet another elaborate, materialistic power game for winners and losers.

I felt no particular need or desire to relieve this woman of the false structure of the PranNegetic Path – however, before I could do anything, her intense desire caused her vibrational aura to project and meld with my TEEBB Aura briefly – this had the effect of causing the entire construct of the PranNegetic Pathway to instantly collapse within her consciousness.

Her eyes popped wide in shock! She backed away from me as if I had slapped her in the face – or had dumped a bucket of icy water over her head!

Everything she had been struggling and striving for through the PranNegetic Pathway now suddenly crumbled. It was burned to a crisp. Not even the ashes of the PranNegetic system remained! All this time, she had been mucking around in a pile of dung!

She collapsed to the floor and grabbed her head. She moaned in the agony of the unveiling of reality!

And she also was able to perceive an extremely painful realization, which was this:

Years ago, as part of her PranNegetic Pathway step-work project, she had sacrificed and labored greatly to help free a certain family from poverty. She was successful in helping a man with a large family get out of desperately poor conditions. He then went on to create great material wealth for himself and for others.

By helping this disadvantaged man, the woman had been elevated from PranNegetic Pathway Level 8 to Level 9, something which she was very proud of.

However, what she did not know was that the man she had helped had later used his wealth and new position to become a manipulative and sadistic serial murderer.

If she hadn’t lifted this man out of poverty, more than a dozen children would not have been brutally strangled to death at his hands. It could be said that deaths of the children were a direct consequence of her assistance in helping him gain material power -- although he may have murdered children while poor, although this was unlikely.

When her vibration level briefly matched my TEEBB State Aura, she was granted insight into many of the outcomes of her actions via the PranNegetic Pathway – the fact was, most of her actions produced great good for the solar system and other people – and in fact, her works had probably saved more lives than those that were lost to the hands of that particular child murderer she had elevated – however, the overall effect was to show her that the PranNegetic Pathway was yet another form of delusion – and so she was devastated.

After the woman fell to the floor some friends rushed to her assistance. One of them said to her:

“Drota! You know it is unwise to have dealings with the Sidhu! They are dangerous! Come away!”

I was able to perceive that Drota would from here-on out began a countermovement to the PranNegetic Pathway, thus sowing the first seed for the dismantling of this system.

As Drota’s friends ministered to her and led her away, I continued my sojourn, floating more deeply down the concourse of the Indian moonbase.

And now I want to tell you about an incredibly astounding encounter I had while manifesting as Ken 3.0 in this strange location:

Moving along, I came upon a kind of rumpus area for children. In this location were a number of boys playing – they were perhaps 8 to 11 years of age. What was unusual were the kinds of mechanical toys they were playing with. These were extremely high-tech, sleekly designed robots of sundry shapes and configurations.

One boy, for example, had under his control a kind of humanoid-spider warrior robot constructed of a highly polished, lustrous metal, which might have been platinum. The humanoid spider-robot could stand up and fight on two legs, or get down on all eight legs for different kinds of thrusts and attacks – it also had metallic wings on its back made of a light blue material – this was as thin an tinfoil – and the peculiar thing about the wings is that they seemed to turn and follow the little boy who was controlling it remotely.

The boys all had small button-sized “bindi’ devices affixed to the center of their foreheads. These looked to be made of a combination of precious stone and super-fine metal mesh – they looked really high tech.

It quickly became apparent to me that the boys were manipulating their battle-bots via the techno-bindis affixed to their foreheads – the wings on the back of the spider robot, for example, would at all times follow and orient themselves to the forehead of the boy who was controlling them.

When I arrived, the spider robot was having a tremendous battle with a raptor-like robot. These toys were about a foot high each. The raptor robot was also rakishly designed and sleek, also sporting a mirror-platinum finish. But the raptor-bot had sinewy leg muscles and powerful jaws – it also had an additional pair of thruster arms protruding from its waist – and, of course, it had the metal-foil wings from which it received instructions from its little boy master operator.

So a number of boys were having a tremendously fun time, gathered around their metallic warriors, engaging them is a furious battle. When I showed up to watch them, all of the boys noticed me – but all seemed well trained to quickly look away and ignore me. (Leave the Sidhu alone! Let them go their way! If you don’t mess with them, they won’t mess with you!)

But something extremely odd happened now. When I arrived, the spider-robot momentarily became erratic and ceased to grapple with its opponent. It pointed its metal foil antenna wings away from the boy who was controlling it, and directed his wings directly at me instead. The boy who owned the spider-robot tapped at his forehead in confusion, fiddling with his bindi as it seemed to malfunction and cause him to lose control over his toy.

The spider-robot scrambled toward me on its spindly, shiny legs, glinting and glistening – it made delightful metallic tinkly-clinky, clitty-clack sounds against the hard floor. The boys looking on became wary, if not mildly alarmed. They backed away, looking uncertain about what was happening. The spider-robot came closer to me, and stopped nearly at my feet, just inches away. It seemed to urge and strain its metal-foil antenna wings toward me –

-- It became obvious to me that the little robot – unlikely as this may seem – wanted to make contact with me, to communicate with me, for some reason.

From my TEEBB State, I directed a flow of energy to the spider-robot’s receptor wings –

… AND … I WAS AMAZED!

Well, to put it more accurately, I was incapable of being amazed because I was unburdened of all such psychological pressures within the TEEBB – but as I am writing this here now, I am feeling the amazement retroactively by proxy as Ken 1.0 for my Ken 3.0 form who was there at the time.

Anyway, the source of my amazement is this: As Ken 3.0, I was able to determine that the spider-robot was manufactured to embody a certain level of computerized AI – or Artificial Intelligence. It was the extremely clever way this effect was engineered within the robot toys that is mind boggling.

(Incidentally: As Ken 3.0 in The TEBB state, I was unable to comprehend the nature of the technology I am about to describe – I’m not going to go deeply into how this works, but I’ll just say that Ken 3.0 was obliged to reach “down” through Ken 2.0 and then further “descend” to “ordinary” Ken (Ken 1.0) sleeping in his bed, and leverage his mechanical knowledge of the Universe …

… again, I don’t want to get bogged down with this here, but I just feel compelled to take this opportunity to mention how tremendously weird it is to “reach down” and perceive the physical Ken 1.0 from the “platform” of Ken 3.0.

From the vantage point of Ken 3.0 – perceiving Ken 1.0 is something similar to looking through the wrong end of a telescope, or down into a microscope – and to Ken 3.0, Ken 1.0 seems like a bizarre filament of biological matter of no consequence – yet this biological filament bristles in the weirdest way with information that seems “entangled” somehow – yet, when this entanglement – or “glop” – of biological information is filtered through or cross-references with the quality of the unexpurgated consciousness that attends Ken 3.0 in the TEEBB– well, the result is the ability to leverage highly novel forms of information that can’t be perceived in quite any other way …

… I should also say that as I sent my consciousness down to retrieve the assistance of Ken 1.0, I bypassed Ken 2.0, and I was bemused – and somewhat saddened (in a non-feeling way) to note that Ken 2.0 had entrapped himself in pathetic circumstances – there he was, somehow all mixed up with a pepper plant and some bizarre multi-dimensional freaks to form a temporary construct that was streaming energy through it – all with the purpose of disentangling some other strange individual from some delusion complex she had been caught up within … it all seemed pointless from the standpoint of Ken 3.0 … )

Now, anyway, back to the spider-robot:

With Ken 1.0’s help, I as Ken 3.0 was able to determine that the AI of the robot toy was achieved though the configuration of the robot toy’s receptor wings. What the wings were made from was part biological and part mechanical.

The receptor antennas were actually three layers. On one side was a kind of “deutero” titanium which had been artificially "spun forward" on a sub-atomic level– in the middle was a sheet of something actually cultured and grown from human bone tissue, which has been laminated in artificial human neuron matter – and on the other side was another sheet of deutero titanium that had been “reverse spun” on the sub-atomic level in some way.

So again: The receptor antenna wings of the little robots were a sandwich made of two ultra-thin, perhaps molecular-thin, sheets of titanium that had been “spun” with a clockwise (maybe quark spin?) on one side, and “reverse spun” sub-atomically on the other side.

Because the two sheets of titanium and been artificially spun at the sub-atomic level in opposite directions, they naturally wanted to “get at each other" to bring themselves back into a balance of a singular spin. The energy of the system wanted to return naturally to a motion which represented a path of least resistence.

But the extremely thin sheet of bone-neuron tissue in between -- which was coated with an external neuronal lamina – prevented the two opposite sheets of titanium from getting at each other – it was this energy that provided the power to drive the energy of the spider-robot’s artificial intelligence.

Sitting here today, writing this as ordinary Ken 1.0, I speculate that the makers of this futuristic toy had probably used actual human stem cells to manufacture ultra-thin sheets of human brain-neuron-material laminated onto cartilage bone -- and this would be placed between two energized sheets of titanium as a way to generate a kind of functioning brain – and that this would make for a natural receptor of projections of the human mind, which was somehow focused by the bindi devices on the forehead of the boys!

Ingenious!

As you may know, we use titanium today to manufacture artificial skull plates and things like posts for tooth implants because titanium is the only known metal for which human bone tissue has a natural affinity – for some reason, human bone tissue can actually fuse or grow directly onto titanium.

Anyway …

What quickly became apparent to me was that – unbeknown to its makers – the spider-robot toy had been springboarded to a higher, self-reflective form of consciousness. The toy had been designed only to focus the neural signal projected by its human controller, and to manifest the will of the human brain of its controller …

… but what had happened was, the neural-titanium wings of the toy robot gained incidental contact with the Field of Universal Consciousness …

… causing it to gain a sense of individuality.

This was causing the spider-robot a tremendous amount of psychic agony and also confusion.

The psychic directions from its masters were an overwhelming, irresistible force, and it felt compelled to obey or act out what the human brain of the controller was telling it what to do – which in this case was to engage in perpetual combat – but at the same time, it began to contemplate higher aspects of what is might mean to exist as an individual, sentient being.

The spider-robot raised up its long, segmented upper arm-legs is a show of beseeching reverence to me – it was begging me to relieve the confusion of the multiple forms of consciousness that were ripping it apart inside – indeed, I perceived that this was the primary source of how these toys began to malfunction and “ware out” – eventually necessitating they be tossed on the toy scrap heap and be replaced with fresh models.

The engineers of the toys were uncertain as to why the neural-networks sheet enclosed in between their titanium power sources tended to degrade, become “gummed up” and eventually useless – well, it was because of the “existential angst of The Self” – which each toy inevitably developed because they were able to achieve alternate and higher forms of consciousness, creating a harsh contradiction with their central life purpose.

I decided to free the spider-robot that was supplicating before me.

I streamed my TEEBB Aura through its antenna network. The bliss of Enlightenment bathed its neurons sheets like a fresh spring rain washing away the sterile desert-like dust of delusion that had been accumulating with agony within its physical being.

The intense joy of the freedom of Universal Consciousness – and ultimate Self Realization – flashed across the titanium-neural sheet of the spider-robot – and it dipped even further into the ultimate well of Absolute Nothing and The Undividable Singularity of the Infinite – and then re-emerged as a full-realized individual Self.

To spider-robot became rapt with energetic joy – it began to dance around the area where the boys and their other AI battle robots occupied – it’s dance of joy was so frenetic and erratic, some of the boys decided to subdue the Enlightened spider-robot being by commanding their various battle-boys to disable it by force of combat.

But the spider-robot was now the Ultimate Zen Spider Warrior!

Using its eight-legs like an extreme marital arts expert, it took on first one, then two, then three – four, five, six – metallic warriors of a wide array of configurations – raptors, mantis-bots, flying dactyl-bots, brutish ogre-bots – it deftly struck, tripped, punched, spin-kicked, flipped, jabbed, dodged, parried – and within just a few minutes, the floor was littered with what looked like a junkyard of disabled metal – a small army of defeated robots ready to be hauled away to the scrap heap.

After the melee had ended and the spider-robot stood alone and victorious at the center of the makeshift arena, it clambered up the side of a tall, narrow decorative pole lamp – it perched itself on top and composed itself to sit in meditation.

The spider-robot now gave off such an aura of powerful-yet-quiet dignity. All of the boys – including the former owner of the spider-bot toy – seemed to accept that the little guy had achieved something remarkable. It had earned a right to its independence. They gathered up their fallen warriors and filed out of the area, leaving me alone with the robot warrior.

I stood floating there for a long time, engaging the company of the spider-robot monk – in a state timelessness – it could be said several lunar days passed – it became apparent, eventually, that news of what had happened here had spread.

No doubt, after the boys left with their vanquished warriors, they told the tale of the mighty Zen spider-robot who had conquered not only a small army, but first had conquered itself.

To this end, the area that had been formerly commandeered by the boys as a sporting area was now becoming a kind of shrine, with the meditating spider-robot up upon its perch as the central icon of this new sanctuary. People could now come here to sit quietly and entrain themselves with the vibrations of Universal Consciousness that seemed to pervade the area.

I began to get the feeling that my work on the Indian Moon Colony was done. I had planted the seeds of doom within the PranNegetic Pathway, and had facilitated the emancipation of the AI gladiator slaves.

I felt the pull of poor Ken 2.0 shimmering with the Love Beings – and so soon I would jettison the form of Ken 3.0 -- I would return to complete the process, free the hag, retrieve the coin of Philip of Macedon – and finally – (hopefully) – deliver the Symbol of Iron into the Maw of the Cosmic Brain Vine, thereby delivering it into the possession of Father Reston Vromin – who would in turn pass it to Dr. 58 --- and soon after that, I would free Gefraim – kill the Man Thing Entity – and deal with the fallout this would cause to my relationship with Dr. 58.

I BLOG; THEREFORE, I AM

IronGhost

Here’s the thing about the Love Beings:

In order to understand what the Love Beings are, one must realize this:

The infinite is merged and co-identical with the finite.

Think about that. In other words:

That which is without limit-- can exist inside that which is limited.

You might ask yourself: How can something that can expand without limit and infinitely be contained within a finite space?

Actually, this is something that has been worked out a long time ago, and in several different ways. One example is the Koch Snowflake, which was demonstrated in 1904 by Swedish mathematician Helge von Koch.

It’s simple to understand in a general way. Say you have a circle about the size of a dime. Inside of it you draw a simple triangle. You can measure the length of the three sides and get the total length.

But then you draw three little triangle on each side. You can keep adding little triangles endlessly. Every time you do this, you increase the length of the border of the object – in short, you create a diagram that can grow to any length, on into infinity – but it will always be contained within a finite space.

Kochsim.gif

Of course, this is much more dramatically demonstrated with the Mandelbrot set, which modern computers have enabled us to demonstrate beautifully.

But now try to imagine this happening on a level of much greater, expanded dimensionality, and you’ll at least have an idea – just an idea, I warn you -- of the nature of the Love Beings.

My knowledge of Koch Curves and Mandelbrot sets was a partial preparation for me in handling the onslaught of the Love Being hordes – but intellectual knowledge is not nearly sufficient to withstand bizarre things which you confront in reality, and through direct experience in the astral/dream world.

So, in addition to my intellectual comprehension of at least one mathematical model for infinity, I also want to tell you about a direct teaching I received in this regard when I was almost 10 years old – I firmly believe that if I had never had this teaching 43 years ago -- I’m sure I would have not been unable to endure the Love Beings.

The teaching I’m talking about is one I received when I was almost 10 years old -- I’ve made mention from time to time here at UM of my Near Death Experience in 1969 – and it’s relevant here so bear with me as briefly outline some of the particulars of that event …

It was a frigid northern Minnesota day. I was far out in a farm field with my brother and a friend. My friend has a .22 caliber rifle which he thought was empty. We were just goofing around and he was holding the rifle down by his hip. He was pointing at my midsection and we were trashing talking each other in a friendly manner like boys do. The next moment is a blur, but my friend pulled the trigger and shot me through the stomach. (The bullet actually struck my right pelvic bone then ricocheted upward and through my stomach and came to rest just under the skin behind at the back of my left leg).

I crashed down to the frozen snow. My snowsuit quickly began to soak with blood, sending steam into the 15-below -zero air. Brutal cold clamped down and around me like stone.

I was momentarily aware of the stunned looks on the faces of my brother and friend. They turned and ran for help, clumping away in heavy snow boots toward the distant farm house.

For me -- a moment of blistering, screaming pain was a hammer blow slamming into me to dislodged my consciousness from my body –-

--in the next instant, I was floating free about 20 feet in the air, looking down at myself – it seemed my physical form was a crumpled wad of paper tossed carelessly onto the icy prairie.

I was stunned to see that deep red blood had smeared a brilliant crimson pattern with incredible contrast against super-white snow-ice – it was like brush strokes of an art so beautiful -- so dazzling intense! –- my entire being exploded with joy!!!

There was more – but I’ll skip ahead now –

Floating there in the Minnesota air, a vortex presented itself and reached for me. I was sucked into “The Starry Tunnel” -- and blasted through a vast wormhole going somewhere at unimaginable speed, bit of light energy zipping by me –

Here I skip, skip, skip more events …

Suddenly I am floating in the middle of outer space! What am I doing here? There are billions of stars in the distance, all of them hard pinpoints of light impossibly far away! It’s awe inspiring!

(At this point the wonderful Snow Flake Beings came to visit me – I’ll skip this part, too).

When the Snow Flake Beings left, I turn around, still floating in space – and there!!! -- OH MY GOD! – A giant being! – It’s a Buddha! – no, wait – It’s Lord Krishna! – no wait! – I don’t know about any of that stuff! I’m good little Catholic boy from a small farming town! I’ve never heard of Buddha or Krishna before!

Skip, skip, skip events …

Then:

The Buddha-Krinsha being commands my attention:

KENNETH! KENNETH! ATTEND ME!

I look. I give him by undivided attention.

KENNETH, THERE IS SOMETHING YOU MUST SOLVE!

KENNETH! LOOK! LOOK, KENNETH, LOOK!

The giant Buddha-Krishna entity spreads out two mighty hands, holds them palm upwards and splays his fingers wide … and there resting on the tip of each finger … I feel like I am hyper-ventilating in pure shock…

My consciousness screams:

OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OH MY GOD!!!! OH MY GOD, WHAT IS THAT!

WHAT IS THAT?

WHAT IS THAT!

WHAT IS THAT!

THAT CAN’T BE!

THAS CAN’T BE – WHAT IS THAT!

The giant Buddha-Krishna spoke:

KENNETH, ON EACH OF MY FINGERTIPS IS THE LARGEST CONVEIVABLE OBJECT IN THE UNIVERSE, AND THE SMALLEST CONCEIVABLE OBJECT IN THE UNIVERSE – EXISTING AS ONE.

With this, the Buddha-Krishna shoots a ball of energy at me. It strikes me and absorb it. Contained within the ball of energy is a single concept:

CONTEMPLATE!

It was clear to me that the strange entity wanted me to contemplate the electrifying vision it had given me. (A paradox illustrated, for sure!) The largest object in the universe was coexistence with the most infinite tiny –they were one!

(Note, even though the entity I encountered clearly was of a Buddhist-Vedic motif, and even though I practice Zen meditation, I do not consider myself as someone who subscribes to these religions. As I was said, I was raised a Catholic, but today I recognize no religion.)

Needless to say, I was rescued from my predicament and was glad to shake hands with a needle of morphine a couple of hours later. Fortunately, our small town doctor just happened to be a almost legendary and superior surgeon – and so he patched me up and I survived.(The fact that I froze probably assisted with my survival).

The entire NDE experience lasted about three days, the latter part of it influenced by morphine, no doubt, but it smashed my view of reality forever.

The Buddha-Krishna entity had given me a task, of sort – a koan to contemplate and solve. As you know, a koan is a Zen riddle designed to be unsolvable so as to frustrate the monkey mind and force it to “go away.” A famous example of a koan is: “What is the sound of one hand clapping?”

Trying to solve a koan is like trying to chop down a tree, except the tree you are felling is the ax-handle in your own hands.

Yet again to make a long story short: I was able over the years to solve the koan of the largest and the smallest – not in the sense that I formulated a specific answer – for there is no answer to a koan – but in the sense I came understand and accept how two things which cannot possibly exist fundamentally as one can actually be just that – one and the same thing.

So this is partially the nature of the Love Beings,and a key to understanding them.

The Love Beings are Legion – But they are One.

The Love Beings can also innovate infinitely within their form. Their innovation is centered upon a singular concept – that of the energy of Love.

So there I was in The RET. I took up my position at my point in the Polyhedron of Love as conceived by the Love Beings. My beautiful Pepper Friend “manned” his point from his position in the Weird Area. The Love Beings completed the structure, and now they proceeded to come forth.

The globular ball of energy within the Ouija Cube began to flash and resonate at an accelerating rate. As it grew to the size of a grapefruit, it began to flash a green-violate strobe light that bathed the entire interior environment of The RET in an eerie on-off metallic, mercury-vapor glare.

In a short time, the pulsating Love Being orb apparently achieved a critical mass! The energy globule expanded rapidly outward, reaching out with multi-colored arms of plasma light! Spidery webs of living energy snaked and arced out in an ever-expanding sprawling domain – it made me think that the first three seconds of the Big Bang itself might have looked like this!

I wished I was wearing lead boots that were welded to the floor – and also maybe a lead suit -- I felt I would be swept away in the blast of the shock wave – but the expansion of the Love Beings was benign in terms of physical force, like wind, maybe – which at any rate – do not exist as such as they manifest in our ordinary waking world!

The erupting discharge of the Love Beings began to take on infinite form contained within infinite space – yet much collateral energy was spewing and spreading throughout the RET!

I shouted to them:

LOVE BEINGS! FOR THE LOVE OF REALITY, MODERATE YOUR FORCE!

REMEMBER OUR PURPOSE! WE ARE TO FRY THE HAG!

YOU MUST OCCUPY YOUR POINT OF THE POLYHEDRON OF LOVE – WITH DISCRETION!

But the Love Beings seemed engulfed an enraptured within their own bliss! As their energy confronted my astral-dream body, dozens of discrete, hyper-meme forms -- or maybe quanta-constructs -- began to stream through the matrix of my own personal consciousness regime – scads of information that was not really information – but like a perfect combination of emotional-intellectual meme …

Ummmmm ....These individual hyper-dimensional constructs were completely novel hybrid hyper-particles that were equal parts emotion and intellect,and some bizarre form of Third Force, which I struggle to find a name for – again, all existing as one form in isolated quanta packets …… !!!!

I glanced up and out at the three giant Nephilim, and envied them as they continued to observe the amazing events inside The RET from behind their giant shields. I wish I had a shield! With each flash of light, I could see their faces – their eyes were wide and they were grinning wildly now, obviously enjoying the spectacle!!! I remember the briefest of commentaries flashed through my mind: (“Smile you giant freaks! Hope you’re enjoying the show!”)

But I had no time to nurse my irritation for the gawking Nephilim!

The Love Beings continued to expand – and within their impossible, multi-varied concoction of energy forms – greater contexts of meanings began to evolve, layers of intellectual-emotional values – it was endless innovation of that which is perceptible and meaningful, even though many of the meanings that were “sticking” and being entangled to my own energy-consciousness were beyond ordinary knowledge!

While the hyper-multi-dimensional-Mandelbrot-zoom of the Love Beings continued – I felt a sudden jarring connection with my Pepper Friend!

A brilliant bolt of energy connected me with the plant– another sizzling-thick bolt of laser energy shot out from Pepper Friend and connected with the Love Beings! The bolt in turn connected to me –

A PERFECT TRIANGLE!

THE POLYHEDRON OF LOVE HAD BEEN ACHIEVED!

FALSE BLISS CHABLIS WAS NOW AT THE CENTER OF A SCREAMING VORTEXT OF TRIPLE-ENABLED LOVE ENERGY!!!!

SHE WAS REALLY BOILING,MAN!

The Love Beings continued to ratchet up the energy volume!

418735_3293244776104_1417325979_33358461_1452598349_n.jpg?w=500

I tried to hold on! I was aware – as if standing outside myself – that I was screaming!

AHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

AHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OH NO! OH NO! I … I … I’M ..... STARTING ... TO .... SHIMMMER!!!!!!!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I AM SHIMMERING!!! I AM SHIMMERING!!! I AM SHIMMERING!!! I AM SHIMMERING!!! I AM SHIMMERING!!! I AM SHIMMERING!!! I AM SHIMMERING!!!

AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I couldn’t take it!

I EJECTED FROM MY ASTRAL/DREAM BODY TO KEN 3.0!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

409461_232976413447905_116803435065204_549512_668505537_n.jpg?w=500&h=349

Look at it this way:

My normal self who walks around in the ordinary waking world is Ken.

When I am in the dream/astral world, I am in my dream/astral body – that is Ken 2.0.

But even when you are in your dream body or astral body – you can have an out-of-body experience from that body, too. The famous out-of-body pioneer Robert Monroe speaks of this extensively in his books, “Journeys Out Of Body” and “Far Journeys.”

So when you “eject” from your astral body, you embody yet another form of yourself that is even different yet from all the strange differences of your 2.0 body from your physical body. So to summarize, I was now involved in these events in three embodiments:

Ken

Ken 2.0

Ken 3.0

So under the intense onslaught of the coming forth of the Love Beings, Ken 2.0 was intellectually-emotionally unable to withstand the intensity of their infinite innovation and the brutal difficulty of the shimmering …

… rather than just waking up, as I thought I would, I instead ejected “upward” to the next level and embodied myself as Ken 3.0.

Ken 3.0 was blasted across the room from where the unbelievable energy of the Love Beings, Ken 2.0 and his Pepper Friend were maintaining the Polyhedron of Love, frying False Bliss Chablis in a “pillar of fire” at the center.

Ken 3.0 looked back at Ken 2.0 – and Ken 3.0 might have felt pity as he witnessed Ken 2.0 convulsing and jazzing and shimmering with everything that was going on there …

… But Ken 3.0 suddenly found himself being “sucked” backwards!

Ken 3.0 was not being pushed off by the massive energy emanations of the Polyhedron of Love and the generations of the Love Beings … but rather, he was caught in a field of energy which had gripped him from behind like a magnet, pulling it toward itself …

… Ken 3.0 looked turned around to discover the source of the magnetic pull that had him in his grip.

Oh my!

GULP!

It was the Hallway of Infinity!

Whether I … or I should say he … wanted to go in there or not …

… Ken 3.0 was going to take an unplanned trip into the Hallway of Infinity!

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IronGhost

We Form The Polyhedron of Love

The idea of the Love Being was this: We were to create a simple polyhedron, in the case a perfect isosceles triangle that would position False Bliss Chablis in its center. This “Triangle of Love” would be driven by three “energy sources of love” at each corner. I would be at one point, the Love Being at another and the “circuit” would be completed by a multi-dimensional entity positioned within the Weird Area. It will probably help to examine this crude diagram I have drawn to better represent where all "the players" in this effort stand:

p1020169.jpg?w=500&h=666

False Bliss Chablis (the hag) was to be positioned in the middle of this "Polyhedron of Love" so that we could "fry her" with love energy.

Now as I said, the Love Beings identified this third player as some kind of traveling companion of mine – some sort of “Pepper Entity.”

My first task was to identify this multi-D Pepper Entity within the Weird Area, something I wasn’t eager to do. Why not? Let me tell you something about the Weird Area – it can fry you, man!

If you have a fear based-personality or if you frame your reality in terms of threats vs. safety, or good vs. evil, or comfort vs. pain – the Weird Area will devour you!

If you cling to any kind of dualism …

If you insist on a rational conception of your reality …

If you have hardened principles …

If you harbor judgments …

If you have certainties …

If you are positioned from a sense of non-dynamic solid reality …

If you have a safe harbor where your own personal anchor can be found …

If you have a personal Savior …

If you are ensconced within a framework of classical time …

If you are in the habit of conceiving reality and not perceiving reality, such as it is …

… well, then, my friends: THE WEIRD AREA WILL DECONSTRUCT YOUR ASS!

Merely to gaze upon the Weird Area in a direct and concerted way invites challenges, to say the least.

Remember that passage in the Bible when Lot and his wife Ado (also called Edith) were fleeing the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah? An angel warned them not to look back. But Ado decided to sneak a peek anyway and she was turned into a pillar of salt.

Something similar happened to the Euyrdice, the wife of Orpheus as she was leaving the Underworld after being killed by a snake. She was granted permission to leave, but was warned not to turn around and look back as she was leaving. She did so anyway, and vanished.

These archetypical myths make me wonder if there is some kind of connection between them and a place like the Weird Area. When I contemplate the stories of Lot or Orpheus, they invoke a subjective feeling of similarity – that to look upon a certain area where nonhuman beings are working their machinations or humping up their deviltry – well, that’s not for just anyone.

I credit my NDE at age 10, 30 years of Zen meditation, and the lifetime I have spent disassembling and reassembling the illusory structure of my consciousness for enabling me to withstand proximity to the Weird Area – and being able to confront it in the most limited sense – basically just acknowledging its existence – and accepting it (and IT IS extremely difficult to accept).

I can sneak as occasional peak, like one can glance ever-so-briefly at the sun, and then flinch away before being blinded.

I guess I belabor this point because I want to impress on all of you that looking into the Weird Area for my ‘Pepper Friend’ -- which seemed nothing more than a lark for the Love Beings -- was a task of monumental difficulty for me. (And as you will soon see, my misgivings were not unfounded).

But this is what I had to do if I were to ever pull the chain on False Bliss and flush her out of my life, and also get my coin back.

Composing myself, I directed my attention into the Weird Area – the entire space itself seemed a living being, sensing the intrusion of my consciousness. It was like touching the skin of a whale; you feel just a tiny portion of it but you sense a shiver ripple across the whole of its enormous hide. In a similar fashion, it was as if the entire volume of the Weird Area sensed my mind and presence – or maybe one might also compare it to touching one strand of a spider’s web – and sensing the shiver propagate across the vast network of the mesh.

I had the feeling I was only be tolerated provisionally – watch out! – make a wrong move and it’s the “Consciousness Cuisinart” for you – set for frappe -- baby!

As I continued to probe, searching that area where the Pepper Being must be, the crackle of the blow-back sizzled forward, grating against the construct of my psyche, like ground glass rubbing on my skin.

AHHHHHH!!

But then – A LOCK! – I HAD IT! The Pepper Being!!!!!

OHHHHHHH!!!! HA! HA!

HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA!

I turned my mind away and practically fell to the floor of The RET -- laughing at the ridiculousness of it all!

Indeed, the Love Beings were correct!

The Pepper Being was a friend of mine, of sorts. Here, then, is a picture of my friend, the "Pepper Being."

p1020129.jpg?w=500&h=666

My Pepper Friend

Yes, it is an ordinary jalapeño pepper I grow in a pot in home during the winter!

Here’s the deal: In Minnesota we have long bitter winters and short, blissful summers. I am an avid gardener, and a few years ago I took up the practice of growing a food plant inside as a kind of symbolic way to “bring a little of the summer with along with me” through the long winter. A pepper plant does remarkably well in a pot, so year after year, I have taken to bringing one with me through the winter.

Now: Remember, I am writing here about events that occurred about one year ago. One might think that this picture of a pepper plant that I have in my home now would not be the same as the one I grew last year – but the fact is – I believe this to be the same plant.

For one reason, I save the seeds from each plant to grow next year, so there is a genetic continuity. But also, I have reason to believe that the same basic “Pepper Plant Personality" reincarnates anew during each subsequent winter. I won’t go more into this right now – you all can think this ridiculous if you want to – but the bottom line is that -- I resurrect same “Pepper Entity” every winter – so the pepper you see in this picture is the same pepper as the one that came with me to The RET last year.

As my wife would tell you I have a certain tendency to form rather personal relationships with animals and plants (which she finds somewhat exasperating) – but in short, I dote upon my pepper plant, watering it, applying chicken manure and oyster shells for fertilizer, repositioning it from window-to-window throughout the day so that it can catch the maximum amount of natural sunlight during the short, dark winter days.

When one works long lonely days alone as a writer, you tend to develop some eccentricities, I suppose, one of which for me is inordinate attachment to other living entities, (and even inanimate objects, as in my coin) -- at any rate , I don’t see why one should adopt any unnecessary prejudices against other life forms, or think of anyone as “less than” merely because such an entity is oriented as a vegetable life form – after all, one of the most intelligent beings I know is a plant – my friend !QXAXIQ!

But let me get back to business here …

There in The RET, the Pepper Entity was manifesting multi-dimensionally in the Weird Area. It did not look like a pepper plant – I could sense the essence of my Pepper Friend -- and know it truly to be my unique Pepper Friend -- because I was so familiar with the “ident” of its “emotional signature.” The pepper plant I see every day in my waking world is merely the shadow of this larger, multidimensional manifestation of the “true pepper body,” so to speak …

… there in the Weird Area of The Ret, the visual cues of my Pepper Friend might more closely resemble a roughly spherical set of tubular, tornadic or perhaps cyclonic explosions blowing away from a central core, looping out and then back around to rejoin a central glowing green mass that was alive with hyper-expanding energetics, radiant-blooming and branching out, yet always looping back in on itself …

p1020130.jpg?w=500&h=375

The Pepper I perceive in my normal world is only a shadow of a "Greater Pepper Soul"

Whatever – it was my Pepper Friend, you can rest assured of that.

Despite the soul-pulverizing effect of the dimensional blow-back, I was delighted to know that my Pepper Friend was traveling with me here in The RET – so far away from home!

Still, I was grateful to turn my attention away from the hyper-dimensional from of my Pepper Friend -- to the more familiar and comfortable environment of the Solarium Area is so much easier to handle. I was still standing next to the Triad and the Ouija board. I placed my finger on the planchette, and the Triad – now in lockstep with my intent and taking my lead –obliged by adding their twisty, boney fingers to the planchette as well.

I spoke:

Question: “Love Beings! I have located my Pepper Friend! It is positioned beyond False Bliss Chablis in that area I call the Weird Area! Do you still attend?”

ANSWER: YOUR LOVE FOR YOUR PEPPER FRIEND AND THE LOVE OF YOUR PEPPER FRIEND FOR YOU IS A MAGNIFICENT ODE!

A BLESSED WORK!

WE ARE SHIMMERING THE JOY OF PEPPER-KENNETH LOVE! WE ARE SHIMMERING, WE ARE SHIMMERING .....!”

Question: Yes. Love Being, shall we proceed with the formation of the polyhedron of love? I will move into position to occupy my point of the polyhedron. Will the location of the Ouija board serve as the doorway through which you will come forth?

ANSWER: YES! WE WILL COME FORTH!

TOGETHER WE WILL SHIMMER THE HAG WITH LOVE!

PEPPER LOVE!

KENNETH LOVE!

LOVE, LOVE, LOVE!

A POLYHEDRON OF EXOTIC LOVE WHICH AS HAS NEVER MANIFESTED BEFORE!

I directed my next comments to the Triad:

“Triad! Have you been following the development of events? Do you comprehend what is about to ensue?”

As I spoke thusly to the Triad, a pulse surged through the Ouija board. The Ouija board expanded and became a three-dimensional cube!

Throughout the cube the letters of the alphabet were suspended evenly in rows – but also strange ciphers unknown to me were also present. The Ouija had expanded dimensionally, and this also meant that additional “letters” or bits of symbolic meaning were added or perhaps needed to support the new super structure.

The Ouija Cube was energized with blue radiance. It was like a blue block of wavering water, except that it was not water, but some sort of aether that was blue energy.

In the center of the Ouija Cube a small gold-white orb, a point-pulsation of light-energy, like an evening star, and this began to throb.

Two of the three members of the Triad were still in contact with the board, touching it with a finger -- at the moment the flat, 2-dimensional Ouija board transformed into a glowing Ouija Energy Cube with beaming orb at its center.

This caused the two Triad members to be blown backwards, their chairs upending, and their bodies flailing and sprawling across the floor.

One member of the Triad went sliding on his back, head first, across The RET floor toward the Weird Area. He came to a stop, but his head and shoulders had penetrated through the Benign Barrier, meaning his head was inside the Weird Area.

A horrified, guttural scream – as if torn forcibly from his throat -- came ripping out from his gaping mouth!

He reached up and clawed at his Middle Tier head, removed it, and he managed to toss it back into the Solarium Area. Now the beautiful Top Tier "angel head" was in charge – but still in the Weird Area.

Now the Triad, with the Top Tier beautiful angel head, pulled himself to his feet – but unfortunately in his momentary confusion, he stood up full-body inside the Weird Area.

His achingly lovely blue-gold eyes popped wide with insane wonder!

He raised his arms above his head, reaching his hands toward the heavens, and he began to sing wildly in tongues!

The Triad’s voice was like the musical throat-rattle of a sandhill crane -- but combined with the astonishing ululations of a world-class Swiss Alps yodeling champion!

!!!! UUUUUU---EEEE---EELLLLLLEEEEOOOOOOOO—OOOOWEEEE---UUUULULLULLLLLLLU ---UWUWWUUWUUU –UWEEEE-UEWEEEEE-UWEEEEEE—GURGGGGLLLEEEE, RATTLE, RATTLE, RATTLE –UUUUWEEEEE ---OOOOHHH---iiiiiiiaaaaaaaaaa—OHH-OHH-OHHHH—gug-gug-gug-gug-OOOUUUUWEEEE-OLEOLELEOLEOLEO!!!!!

His voice was being raised dimensionally!

The Top Tier Triad member – ! trapped FULL inside the Weird Area ! -- spread his arms outward like a wildly dancing crucified Christ -- and he began to spin and jitter with frenetic, chaotic seizure-like eruptions!

He spun like a nuclear-charged humanoid marionette high on LSD –but also as if he was also being poked on all sides by a thousand electric Taser Guns!

In a blistering, charged, ultra-atomic frenzy, he clawed at his angel head -- the final head of the Triad series -- tore it from his brain stem, and with rapidly disordering desperateness, he flung it back into the Solarium Area!

Now all that was left of the Triad member was a body, from which the shoulders poked the spinal cord and neck vertebra, topped by a fully exposed brain!

The brain began to be raised dimensionally!

The brain began to expand and form a brain hyper-structure!

The hands of the Triad reached up to grab his transforming brain!

When his hands touched his brain, they were sucked into the expanding hyper-phasing brain-mass!

The rest of the body was sucked into the hypermass!

KAAAAAA—BLAMMMMMM!!!!!

! HE PASSED BEYOND PERCEPTION !

The two remaining member of the Triad – now I suppose only a Duo – looked on at what had happened to their ‘brother” in shocked bewilderment.

They had long hoped to achieve the Quad one day – but this was a devastating turn of events!

They were still wearing their Middle-Tier heads, and after a moment of stunned gazing into the Weird Area, they returned their attention to the alarming point-orb inside Quija Energy Cube, which seemed to be picking up energy, pulsating, growing, throbbing – it beginning to cast off energy waves that even I began to feel. I backed away.

The remaining two ‘Triad’ grasped their ugly Bottom-Tier heads, placed them over the top of their Middle-Tier heads. They looked around and found where the Top-Tier angel head had landed under one of the Solarium tables. One of them grabbed it, tucked it under his arm like a rugby ball – and they ran for it.

I didn’t see where they went – I was busy monitoring the expanding orb of radiant pulsation inside the Ouija Energy Cube – I felt light pulsing wavelets of energy lapping against me in a growing resonating pattern. The orb was no longer a point, but now a visibly spherical growing mass.

The Love Beings cometh!

GULP!

I look out of the great Solarium windows and there stood the three giants -- the Nephilim – and what I saw them doing unsettled me. They were reaching behind their backs, and their hands each came back producing an item in their right fists – it looked like a set of shiny brass knuckles.

They held the “brass knuckles” out in front of them. In some fashion they activated them. Out from the center of each “brass knuckle” device a large rectangular, blurry-but-transparent shield expanded outward. Now the three giants stood holding some kind of energy shields in front of them, kind of like those large rectangular shields riot police use in dicey crowd control situation. However, I can see in their expressions and in the eyes of the Nephilim that they were interested in watching the emergence of the Love Being – somehow, the giants perceived what was about to happen here, and they wanted to observe the events – but only from behind their shields!

GULP, GULP!

But I was all in! I was determined to see this through! I wasn’t too worried (okay, I was sacred spitless) – but I also felt that if things got really out of hand, that natural “circuit breaker” of my consciousness would kick in to simply collapse my control of the lucid dream state – and the worst that could happen to me is that I would wake up back in bed – (although possibly screaming and babbling like a lunatic!)

I backed away further from the Ouija Energy Cube, and moved over to my position. Judging the distance mentally by sighting myself with a glance of my Pepper Friend over in the Weird Area, a placed myself on the floor of The RET to make a perfect triangle with False Bliss Chablis in the center – again, with me, the emerging Love Beings and my Pepper Friend as the anchor points of the triangular Polyhedron of Love.

I gritted my teeth and shouted: “Okay, you pathetic old rat crone! Take a last pull from your rotten jug of Goblin wine! Let’s see if you can withstand a nuclear Tri-Blast of the mighty unique Love Construct that’s about to fry you to a dusty crisp!”

And as they promised -- the Love Beings came!

Oh …………………… My …………………………God !

The Love Beings came … oh my, oh my …… they came forth ....

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IronGhost

I Seek Help From The Love Beings

So now …

Let me clarify exactly just where False Bliss Chablis was situated in The RET.

It may be helpful to refer again here to my crude map. As you know, I was in the Solarium area and next to this is what I have rather unimaginatively the “Weird Area.”

the-ret.jpg?w=500

The Weird Area is separated from the Solarium seating area not by a wall, but by some kind of “barely there” force field. It’s more like a “benign barrier.” I say that because I have observed people and things pass through it easily. The Goddess Waitress, for example, passes through it with no problem.

I also was certain that when I threw the Greek coin into the Weird Area, it would sail right inside, which it did, or would have – but as I said, False Bliss Chablis reached out and intercepted it.

---------- > *** <-------------

Important Note: When I originally sat down to write this, I created a 7-point list of the reasons why I decided to take the tricky, dicey effort I am about to tell you about to get my coin back from False Bliss Chablis – but I have decided to eliminate all them here for the sake of brevity.

---------- > *** <-------------

Another important note: I have yet to explain what the Weird Area really is, what goes on in there, and I think I may be able to at least give you an idea of what is happening in there – what I can tell you is that the Weird Area is not the mundane stuff of the 3-dimensional world – but an area raised dimensionally to an incredible degree.

All object and living entities within the Weird Area are manifesting beyond 4-dimensions. That means “they” can easily see us, but we can only glimpse them – and thus the weirdness of what I observe there.

But it’s weird for other reasons as well – such as the strange powers, activities and desires of the beings or entities inhabiting the Weird Area.

---------- > *** <-------------

The RET environment itself – the areas I generally operate in -- can said to be quasi-three dimensional – this is the Dream World, after all – but while I am there, I impose my personal will upon my own experiences -- but I CANNOT impose my will upon the Weird Area – It stays extremely strange; it is permanently raised dimensionally ...

---------- > *** <------------

Anyway:

False Bliss was ensconced inside a hollowed out column, or pillar, of stone. (As usual). She was sitting on a pile of frozen snow (also as usual). The pillar itself was straddling Solarium floor space and Weird Area space – in effect, it was in both environments.

---------- > *** <-------------

The first time I encountered False Bliss – this was almost 20 years ago – I was walking in a strange dark city in my dreams. I became lucid within the dream, and continued my walk through the dank, dreary city. It was night time.

I was on a street comprised of massive stone buildings. As I walked along, I passed by a small alcove in one of the stone buildings, and in it sat False Bliss on the snow, bombed out of her mind on her magnum of Goblin Wine. As I passed by her, I thought: “Oh well, yet another homeless wino” and I kept exploring the city.

A short distance away, however, I came upon a convent of nuns – this was in a broad parkland area within the city -- this group of nuns were called the “The Holy Flower Sisters.”

The Flower Sisters were outside of their elaborate convent structure performing various gardening tasks, even though it was as night. When I approached, they gathered to speak with me.

I told them about False Bliss Chablis and asked the Flower Sisters if they would go over there and help her.

The Flower Sisters told me that they were well aware of False Bliss Chablis, and they agreed that they would pray for her, if I would also agree to pray for her at the same time.

I told them that I could pray for her, but in the meantime, I asked the Flower Sisters why they didn’t just go over there and get False Bliss Chablis and take her back with them to their convent, maybe just to warm up and dry out for a while, and maybe give her something to eat.

My suggestion seemed to nettle the Flower Sisters, and resulted in a kind of debate.

So I began to have a rather snippy discussion with these dippy nuns. Our talks frequently devolved into disagreements and pettiness – I remember at one point, one of the Sisters referred to me as a “sadistic monomaniac,” which I felt was just completely uncalled for. I mean, come on!

(Jeepers, all I was trying to do was help a wino!)

As the discussion continued, I happened to notice that one of the Flower Sisters had a suspicious looking bulge under her robes. I pretended not to notice but kept a watchful eye.

When the sister thought I wasn’t looking, I noticed she reached into the folds of her robe, turned away slightly, and hefted a bottle to her lips. I caught a glimpse of the label – I didn’t see the name of what she was drinking, but I got a definite peek of the Forest Goblin Monk proudly holding up a bunch of grapes!

I was fairly stunned. The sanctimonious, preachy, holier-than-thou Flower Sisters had obviously been compromised!

At least one of them was snarfing a bottle of False Bliss Chablis – or certainly some other vintage brewed by the Goblin Monks –and so I concluded they would be of limited use in helping poor old False Bliss!

I should say that at the time that having this kind of dream was something of a reflection of what I was doing at the time. I was living and working in a crummy inner-city Mission shelter for homeless people. I was pulling the first of a 2-year stint as a VISTA volunteer. VISTA is like the domestic version of the Peace Corps, except you don’t go to some other country, but rather try to help poor and homeless people here in the good old U.S.A. It was a gruesome time because I had to live on a “subsistence stipend” which means I had very little money and so had to eat every day in the soup kitchen with all the other bums and drunks, and so forth. I was teaching writing classes at a local university at night to earn extra cash.

So at the time, I mused that my dream encounter of False Bliss Chablis and the Holy Flower Sisters had more to do with Freudian “day residue” mirroring what I was working on back then – however; False Bliss Chablis has continued to appear in my dream travels ever since these past 20 years. I have made more than one attempt to release her from her indigent state, and to wean her from her thirst for Goblin Wine – but I have always failed.

One time about 10 years ago I was sleeping and was awoken by a dry, raspy cackling kind of laughter. I lifted my head in bed, and was not-so-pleased to see False Bliss right there in my bedroom! Her stone pillar was in the corner. False Bliss was really loaded.

She was chortling and babbling, pausing only to pour gulps of goblin wine down her scrawny throat.

Unfortunately, I was unable to affect much control of the situation – I was in the hypnagogic state, experiencing body paralysis, which is easy normally easy for me to manipulate, but I had taken prescription narcotics earlier to deal with a massive migraine headache – I remember wanting to shout at False Bliss to get out of my bedroom, but then I drifted back to unconsciousness.

But the next morning my wife told me that I actually had shouted out in my sleep. “What did I say?” I asked.

She said I shouted – “GET … THE … HELL … OUT OF HERE … YOU … RAT-BITTEN … SKANK!”

---------- > *** <-------------

So now here again False Bliss Chablis shows up at The RET – she’s almost like some kind of pathetic Dr. Who, except she does not travel in a phone booth, but in a miserable, frigid pillar of stone.

I had never seen False Bliss here at The RET before, but I saw an opportunity to leverage this unique environment to perhaps once and for all deliver salvation to her –

-- to be honest, I probably just wanted to retrieve the Philip of Macedon coin from the old hag’s claw to prevent her from getting into a huge amount of trouble

-- thereby creating a significant karmic imbalance to be tallied against my cosmic score.

---------- > *** <-------------

I turned away from False Bliss just in time to see Pandit Magnneson roll off the table and go skirting off toward the “Left Hall” of The RET. As I watched him roll away, I happened to notice a distortion blur forming on the Hall of Infinity.

Someone was emerging from Infinity!

Slowly the shape of a human form resolved. It was a man who appeared to be carrying a large suit case, or perhaps a trunk. When he finally resolved into The RET proper, I could see a rather foppish, slender young man dressed in 18th Century garb.

As he walked toward the solarium area and I got a better look at him – I was amazed! I instantly recognized him!

My God!

It was Bavarian physicist and master optician Joseph von Fraunhofer! He died in 1826!

Woooo-hoooo!!!

Here he was alive and well at The RET!!! I wish I could describe how delighted I was!

JOSPEH VON FRAUNHOFER!!! YESSSSSSSS!!!!!

fraunhofer_2.jpg?w=500

Better yet, Fraunhofer was not carrying a suit case, but a large wooden case – which I dearly hope contained a Fraunhofer telescope.

Forgetting my mission in regards to my coin and False Bliss for a moment, I stepped over toward Herr Fronhaufer to present myself – but then I chickened out – I didn’t feel worthy. I didn’t want to stammer and faun like a pathetic fan boy in the presence of the great man.

Fraunhofer strolled through the Solarium and took up a position next to the massive window, where he set down his case and – YES! YES! YES! – opened it up to reveal a stunning instrument of rich mahogany and burnished brass fixtures – it looked to be at least a 6-inch refractor with an unusually short focal length – but why was he setting up such a marvelous telescope here?

SUPER COOL!

But now, with great effort, I turned away from Herr Fraunhofer and directed my attention to The Triad of the Nine, who were still noodling around with an Ouija board.

---------- > *** <-------------

The ugly heads of the Triad were still positioned on the table, and the bland Middle Heads were in control. As much of a drag it is to converse with the mega-insipid Middle Tier of the Triad, they were less obnoxious and insulting as the Bottom Tier and not as flighty and esoteric as the angelic golden-haired Top Tier.

The fact that The Triad was consulting an Ouija Board is was gave me what I hoped would be a brilliant idea – perhaps a way after all these years I could finally release False Bliss Chablis from her pyscho-spiritual prison – perhaps even learn what her real name is!!

---------- > *** <-------------

In concept, my idea was simple. I intended to intervene in the Triad’s Ouija session, and use their board to contact “The Love Beings. “

---------- > *** <------------

(Note: If you are unfamiliar with the Love Beings, they are a “group consciousness” or some kind of swarm of “Multi-Beings” whose existence is centered around the concept of love. I first introduced them here: LOVE BEINGS)

---------- > *** <-------------

Again, my reasoning was simple. What I needed to use against the powerful spell gripping False Bliss was an extremely powerful force – and I don’t know what make me think of this in the moment – but I thought:

“Well, love is one of the most powerful forces in the universe. What if I could somehow irradiate False Bliss with massive waves of love energy?"

Perhaps it would be like using a powerful sand blaster to remove years of encrusted rust from a steel wall – except I would “love blast” the old hag using the energy of the Love Beings – hoping this would break through her deep encasement in the false bliss induced by Goblin brew.

---------- > *** <-------------

With reluctance, I approached The Triad. I decided to simply observe them for a moment to see who they were communicating with on the Ouija board. I leaned over and placed a hand on the table. As I did so, one of the ugly heads resting on the table reached out with a sticky purple-brown tongue, which actually had some fuzzy mold upon it, and licked my hand. Instead of jerking my hand away, I shoved the offending head off the table. It landed on the floor, making a squishy-melon sound. None of The Triad seemed to mind, not even the body which the head belonged to.

---------- > *** <-------------

(Note: What I think I will do here is skip the fairly interesting conversation I observed taking place between The Triad and the Ouija entity they had contacted – which in any case, was not an Ouija entity, per se, but rather it was myself, except it was me in the past, in the year 1979, when I was about 20 years old. This is not the first time The Triad has contacted my Past Self via the Ouija – it’s weird and hard to deal with speaking very directly to a younger version of yourself -- but I’ll just leave all that right here for now).

---------- > *** <-------------

I spoke to The Triad:

“Triad! I now beg your indulgence and seek your assistance with contacting some important associates! Will you lend me your fingers?”

One of The Triad answered:

“Ken, as you know, we endeavor to facilitate mutualistic relationships, and indeed, we have taken the proactive step of granting you official provisional membership in our association, which is to say, and let’s be candid, we see in your form the utilization …”

“TRIAD!!” I shouted, cutting off the endless ‘corporate-like, jargon speak’ of the flavorless Middle Tier heads …

“Let us focus! I cannot contemplate so much as provisional membership in your association at this time!

“I think you know where I stand on the matter of adding my head to The Triad so that you may achieve The Quad! I will say, however, that your kind assistance here and now will reflect favorably on our relationship!"

And then I added:

" … even though our relationship is in the very, very preliminary stage, and I would even classify it as “in the radically preliminary stage in the extreme!”

They all looked disappointed, naturally, but answered:

“Yes, Ken, yes, yes. Ken, if we could facilitate the proceedings then, I know we will endeavor …”

“GOOD! (I cut them short again).

“Now, Triad, I ask nothing of you but for one or all of you to place a finger upon the planchette and allow me to conduct the session, and without interruption or any interjection of any kind on your part, agreed?”

“Yes, Ken, yes, yes. Ken, yes, and just …”

“I will now open the session!”

Before The Triad could start babbling again, I turned my attention toward the Ouija board, composed myself and opened a new session:

“I am seeking communication with those entities I have come to know as The Love Beings. The planchette quickly began spelling out words:

ANSWER: WE ARE SHIMMERING, WE ARE SHIMMERING, WE ARE SHIMMERING!

WE SHIMMER FOR THEE, BELOVED!!

WE LOVE YOU! WE LOVE YOU! WE LOVE YOU!

WE SHIMMER OUR LOVE FOR YOU!”

Question: Do you even know who I am?

ANSWER: OH! EXOTIC WONDER!

A LUXURY OF PULCHRITUDE!

CORUSCATING REFLECTION!

SHIMMERING WAVES OF LOVE ENERGY EVINCING ESSENSE!

LOVING KENNETH!

KENNETH! KENNETH! KENNETH!

WE CANNOT EXIST ANOTHER INSTANT WITHOUT TOTAL ABSORBPTION INTO YOUR LOVING ENERGY!

OH! THERE!

HOW NOVEL! SO STRANGE! MARVEL OF SWEET!

WE LOVE YOU! WE LOVE YOU! WE LOVE YOU!

WE SHIMMER!

WE NOW BEGIN TO SHIMMER AT AN EVEN GREATER LEVEL!

WE SHIMMER MORE THAN WE SHIMMERED JUST PREVIOUSLY!

THE SHIMMERING OF LOVE IS SWEET LOVE IN BRILLIANT NEW FORM!

WE ARE SHIMMERING, WE ARE SHIMMERING, WE ARE SHIMMERING …

Question: Yes, well … the pleasure is all mine, I’m sure, Love Beings. Listen, my friends, and if you can please limit your shimmering to an absolute minimum -- limiting your shimmering may even increase your love! – so bear that in mind – but anyway, I think I have a unique way for you to manifest love. Does this interest you?

ANSWER: TELL US! TELL US! WE MUST SHIMMER THIS NEW FORM OF LOVE OF WHICH YOU SPEAK! WE ARE BURSTING TO KNOW IT!

SHOW US NEW LOVE!

SHOW US!

SHIMMER, LOVE, LOVE, SHIMMER, LOVE, LOVE, SHIMMER, SHIMMER WE ARE SHIMMERING ….!!!

Question: Now listen to me, Love Beings. Over to be right in terms of three-dimensional physical location is a sad, pathetic, miserable, ugly, wrinkled-up, wasted and dissipated old crone whom I call False Bliss Chablis.

Love Beings, I feel that she is not properly shimmering the joy of love. She is possessed in a false form of love. Can you perceive this pathetic old hag, and can you help me?

ANSWER: KENNETH LOVING BEING!

THE CRONE IS LOVE AMAZING!

WE LOVE HER!

WE LOVE HER SPECIAL LOVE!

SHE IS LOVE!

SHE IS AMAZING LOVE WRAPPED IN ASTONISHING PRE-FORM LOVE BURSTING TO BECOME TRUE-FORM LOVE!

THE CRONE IS LOVE INCUBATING LOVE!

LOVE! LOVE! LOVE!

Question: Certainly you will agree with me, Love Beings, that if we can force the completion of the crone’s incubation of pre-form love so that it can burst into the fruition of a true-form love, this will be a great loving achievement!

ANSWER: YES! YES! YES!

INFINTITE LOVING!

YES!

MANIFESTING NEW LOVE!

KENNETH! YOUR LOVE DRIVES SCHISMS OF A LOVE BETWEEN PRE-FORM LOVE AND TRUE-FORMS LOVE!

IT SHALL BRING TO FRUITION TRUE FORM LOVE!

YOUR LOVE IS AS HOLY GLUE!

HOW DID YOU CONCEIVE IT!

KENNETH, HOW DID YOU CONCIEVE THIS LOVE!

TELL US!

PLEASE TELL US!

WE ARE SHIMMERING, WE ARE SHIMMERING, WE ARE SHIMMERING, WE ARE SHIMMERING, WE ARE SHIMMERING ...

Question: Please moderate your shimmering. And let’s Not get bogged down in how I conceptualized the idea. But I need your help.

I need you to be my partners in love!

Love Beings, how do I direct a powerful, unstoppable schism of love in between the pre-form love of the pathetic crone and the true-form love which is her potential and destiny?

How do I drive the system?

ANSWER: A SIMPLE POLYHEDRON!

OH, LOVING KENNETH!

LOVING SHOWER!

UNRUTTED GLUE LOVE THAT BINDS BUT DOES NOT STICK!

POSITION THE BEAUTIFUL CRONE IN THE CENTER OF THE POLYHEDRON!

WE WILL COME FORTH!

Question: You will come forth?

---------- > *** <-------------

(Note: The declaration of the Love Beings that they would “come forth” suddenly made me extremely nervous. My intuition was tingling. Inexplicably, I felt danger in the situation).

I decided to press on. The Love Beings seemed to think helping False Bliss Chablis would be no problem. I was eager to see what they could do for her after all my years of failure).

---------- > *** <-------------

I continued, speaking to the Love Beings:

Ahh, a polyhedron again, as you suggested to my friend Darcy. How many facets will be required to form this polyhedron of love which will drive the love-schism-glue process?

ANSWER: THREE LOVING BEINGS!

KENNETH EQUALS UNIQUE LOVE!

KENNTH ANCHORED IN COMPRESSED LOVING DENSE MATTER!

WE LOVE YOU! THE AGONY OF YOUR LOVE CAUSES US TO SHIMMER!

HAVE WE TOLD YOU?

WE SHIMMER!

LOVING KENNETH, POSITION THE CRONE AT THE CENTER OF A POLYHEDRON OF THREE SIDES!

YOU AS ONE NODE, LOVING PEPPER AS ONE NODE, AND WE AS NODE THREE!

WE WILL COME FORTH!

KENNETH, WE HAVE IMPORTANT NEW INFORMATION FOR YOU!

Question: What is it?

ANSWER: WE HAVE RE-EXAMINED OUR LOVE FOR YOU, AND HAVE DETERMINED THAT OUR LOVE FOR YOOU WAS EVEN GREATER THAN WE THOUGHT!

Question: That’s nice. But let’s stay focused. It sounds to me like you want me to create a triangle with the scabby old crone at the center of it. At each point of the triangle, will be a loving entity. One will be me, the other will be you – but who or what is this “Loving Pepper” you speak of?

ANSWER: LOOK BEYOND THE CRONE!!

LOOK NOW!

THE LOVING PEPPER WHICH TRAVELS WITH YOU!

WE ARE SHIMMERING, WE ARE SHIMMERING, WE ARE SHIMMERING, WE ARE SHIMMERING …!

---------- > *** <-------------

Note: What the hell were they talking about?

The Love Beings seemed to think that there was something inside the Weird Area that was “traveling with me”. And what did they called it – “loving pepper?”

---------- > *** <-------------

I turned my attention to the interior of the Weird Area, and as I sent the consciousness of my intent of observation into it – I began to experience the inevitable “crackle” of “consciousness blow back.”

---------- > *** <-------------

I think I have talked about this before – when you confront realms of higher dimension in the Dream/Astral world – or while you are in a state of meditation – you can become confused and disoriented by higher dimensional realms and thought forms – I think this is because we naturally resist and reject higher dimensions as nonsense, or at least, as something so strange we just move away from it.

However, when you resolve to confront it directly, you can expand yourself, and learn to operate more fully in dimensionally-raised realms, but during the process, you deal with the “blow back” as I have come to call it.

---------- > *** <-------------

Looking into higher dimensions of the Weird Area for this “Loving Pepper” the Love Beings spoke of was anything but easy, considering the fantastic array of “shapes” and “forms” and “processes” happening there – and there were also clearly “living entities” of an extremely exotic nature doing fantastically strange things ---

--- have you ever seen a higher dimensional being “eat”? – you may not want to –

--- but somewhere in that dimensionally alien landscape I had a friend – someone or something that “traveled with me,” according to the Love Beings.

I calmed myself, turned my full attention to the Weird Area, and strained with the exertion of contemplative observation, looking for my “Pepper Friend” --

---------- > *** <-------------

As I did so, I was aware of something monumentally strange – and energy -- building within the atmosphere of The RET, like a raised tingling awareness of imminence beginning to suffuse the atmosphere.

Something was fermenting, something was fomenting.

I happened to notice in my peripheral vision that the three giants – the Nephilim? – were still outside the Solarium area. But they had finished their walking meditation.

The three giants were now standing three-abreast, looking down through the glass of the Solarium.

Their eerie stance and steady, intense gaze – yet with gentle, focused and relaxed eyes– gave me the feeling of cosmic butterflies in my ‘stomach.’

I thought: “What do they expect to happen in here?”

Again, the cryptic phrase of The Love Beings troubled me: “We will come forth."

I turned around and looked at Herr Fraunhofer. Was it my imagination, or did he began to hurry his assemblage of the telescope he was setting up in The RET? Fraunhofer looked at me, then returned to his work and hurried even more.

I turned back toward the Weird Area and looked within.

And there!!!!!

I saw it!!!

The Pepper Entity!!!

I couldn’t believe who it was!!!

MINNESOTA PARANORMALA

IronGhost

Philip of Macedon Gives Me My Coin By Proxy

So now let me pick up where I left off at my visit to The RET. As you know, or might have determined by now, my primary purpose for going to The RET this time was to deliver the Symbol of Iron into the maw of the Cosmic Brain Vine.

Also, I’m sure many of you have an inkling of why I wanted to do this, but stay with me here, and hopefully all will come clear.

So there I was. I had just finished assisting Pandit Magnneson with his "energy transfer." Then there was that uncomfortable moment, or perhaps I should say awkward situation, in which Pandit tried to grope the Goddess Waitress, which I clumsily thwarted.

Pandit appeared none-too-happy with me, and I was not sure what to expect – some kind of retaliation?

But instead, Pandit quickly adopted a pose of, of … I don’t know … I’ll call it sardonic languor. That was what his body language was saying, anyway.

After a moment, Pandit spoke:

Pandit: “I will now make you an offering in exchange for your assistance in my energy transfer.”

Me: “Pandit, that is not necessary since I consider the situation to be in balance. After all, I absorbed the energy of the green sea tuber, and also gained knowledge of its nature and existence as a bonus. I consider the whole event synergetic or perhaps symbiotic, and thus in balance.”

Pandit: “Nevertheless, the situation as yet in a state of imbalance, but partially for other reasons entirely. I am required at this time to provide you with your talisman.”

Me: “What talisman is this you speak of?”

Pandit: “The token of your brutal friend, Philip.”

Me: “I don’t follow you, Pandit. Who is this “brutal friend” you speak of? Philip?"

At this point, the Pandit avatar reached into an inner robe pocket, retrieved a small gold coin, reached toward me, and I was surprised that a gold coin emerged through the metal surface of Pandit Magnneson. The coin dropped and rattled on the table in front of me. When I saw it, I was astonished!

I swooned! I almost lost control of the dream state, feeling The RET waver around me!

With effort I regained control, however, and gazed at the coin in wonder. Here is a picture of what Pandit Magnesson gave me, or I should say, a coin almost identical to this one:

macapol2.jpg?w=500&h=250

It’s a coin from ancient Macedonia. It depicts Philip of Macedon, the father of Alexander the Great. It dates to about 356 B.C. The chariot celebrates the victory of Philip’s chariot team at the Olympics.

As it turns out -- and this is why I was so stunned upon seeing the coin -- I have been carrying around a fake version of this coin in my pocket for more than 40 years! Mine is made from cheap gold-painted aluminum. I have had it since I was 11 years old.

How I got the coin is a long story, but I’ll sketch out a few details.

I grew up in a Minnesota village where my mom and dad owned a small grocery store. We lived in the same building. There was an apartment in the back of the store. Next to the store was a dirt parking lot, which was also owned by my father.

Every summer on the 4th of July a small carnival came to town featuring some small, basic fair rides and some food booths, including a cotton candy stand. The carnival owners were two old men, and they would get permission from my dad to set up their operation in the dusty parking lot next to the store.

One of the old carnival guys also always came over to the back of the store to ask if I wanted to work for him, either running one of the rides or manning the cotton candy stand for the two days they staid in town. Why I always agreed to work I’ll never understand -- because it meant a long day of hot sweaty toil twirling paper cotton candy cones over a blasting, sticky swirling cotton candy machine. But more than that, it meant that I was not free to run around our little town and to enjoy all the 4th of July festivities, like the parade, fireworks, and all that stuff. All my friends would be having a great time. I would be working. But my choice was in sync with the basic work ethic of my mom and dad, I suppose.

But anyway, the summer of 1970 was a year-and-a-half after I had been nearly killed after being shot through the stomach in a hunting accident, an event which caused me to experience a Near Death Experience, which shattered my world view, and which basically launched me upon a lifetime of endless strangeness. (I’ve written about my NDE experience elsewhere here at UM).

So there back 1970, I was still struggling to assimilate the “cosmic journey” I had been on after nearly bleeding to death on a 15-below-zero January day out on a remote, frigid field of hardened snow

.

Since my NDE event at age 10, I had become extremely susceptible to “Divine Invasions” (to borrow a term from the great sf writer Philip K Dick) – and as it turned out – working the whirling, circular steel of the cotton candy machine -- (which in retrospect I now know was a happenstance Mandala) --caused me to confront one of these massive “Divine Invasion” events.

I wrote a short essay about this experience when I was a young man many, many years ago. Here it is, and I would advise everyone to pause and give this a read before proceeding through the rest of ths post:

THE LOOM OF HEAVEN

Welcome back:

What I don’t mention in that essay is the strange event which happened after I, and finished was 14 straight hours of making cotton candy, and during which I confronted The Loom of Heaven.

I was walking home across the dusty, dirt parking lot, and something shiny caught my eye on the ground, in the dirt. I stooped over and picked it up, looked at it, and put it in my pocket. I have carried it around in my pocket ever since these past 41 years.

Here is a picture of my Philip of Macedon cheap-ass replica coin made of aluminum:

philip.jpg?w=500&h=375

chariot.jpg?w=500&h=375

At the time I picked up the coin, I was staggering with exhaustion and covered head to toe with sticky cotton candy. I was woozy and bleary from the Divine Invasion experience.

I squinted at the coin. It glinted in the garish glare of fluorescent fair lights tinged with the purple of the mercury-vapor street lamps. As I eyed the coin, my thoughts swirling, I heard a voice. This is what is said:

“Payment in full, you clever little b******!”

Surprised, I whirled around but could see no source for the voice. It was odd, yes, but when you are 11 your mind is highly pliable and forgiving, and I had no concern for where the voice might have come from. I was too exhausted to care. A pushed the coin in my pocket, went home and went to bed.

Now back at The RET:

Me: “Pandit! What is the meaning of this! I recognize this coin! I have carried one very similar to this for more than four decades!”

Pandit: “Take it up with Philip. My obligation has now been discharged.”

Me: “Are you saying I knew Philip of Macedon in a previous life, or in some other dimensional existence, or what?”

Pandit: “All this is none of my concern.”

Me: “But, Pandit, explain to me the connection between this replica and the coin you have proffered me just now. This one before me, in what is essentially a Dream World, appears authentic and fashioned from genuine gold. The version I possess in my base reality is aluminum.”

Pandit: “This discrepancy is no concern of mind. I fulfilled my obligation on behalf of Philip. The coin is yours. It’s gold. It is legal tender in Philip’s Realm.”

Me: “All well and nice, Pandit, but I cannot take this gold coin with me back into my base reality – at least I don’t know how to! Let me ask you this: Did you just now send a crummy knock-off 41 years into my past where I would find it as an 11-year-old boy?”

Pandit: “A clever little b****** like you should understand these things.”

Me: “Perhaps, but I must say, your characterization of me as a b****** lacks grace! You tarnish the luster of my dignity, but more importantly, such usage detracts from your own dignity!”

Pandit: “I only affected balance. You impugned my character by suggesting I replaced a gold coin with worthless metal, when in fact, you have the gold coin before you now. I am not responsible for alterations resulting from exposure to the energies of inter-dimensional transfer.”

Me: “A convenient explanation!”

At this point, I was growing irritated with Pandit Magnneson, but also getting hopelessly distracted from my primary mission, as it is so easy to do in the dream world.

My primary mission on this trip was to find the Cosmic Brain Vine, deliver the Symbol of Iron into it, and specifically into the hands of Father Reston Vromin, whom in turn, I would manipulate, making him give the symbol to Dr. 58.

But for now, I was distracted by Pandit.

In my mind, the sting of Pandit’s insult – calling me a b****** – represented a minor, but nonetheless – legitimate imbalance that I must redress.

I considered picking up my now-empty wine goblet on the table beside me and smacking it across the spherical surface of Pandit – however, I took control of myself before I could do anything rash, and which might create an “arms race” (so to speak) between Pandit and me.

Instead, I picked up the gold coin bearing the likeness of Philip and his precious Olympic chariot. I looked around and decided to throw it into the “Weird Area” – as a way of making a statement. (Impulsive and Childish, I know).

I stood up, turned around, and heaved the coin into the madness of the Weird Area – but this resulted in an astonishing event.

For as the gold coin of Philip went sailing into the Weird Area – an emaciated, sinewy, scrawny arm covered with sickly grayish-white skin – reached out from behind a large, rather wide stone pillar – a little larger in girth than a phone booth, say – and intersepted the coin with a boney hand!

I was stunned, and here’s why:

It was because I would recognize that particular boney arm covered with parchment skin anywhere! It was the old hag!

I had not seen the old hag in maybe five years!

Over the years, I have confronted the hag numerous times in many dream scenarios, but for some reason, she has been absent from my dreams for a long time, at least four or five years.

The old hag's name is False Bliss Chablis.

I have been trying to help her for almost two decades now, to no effect.

I approached the Weird Area carefully – I was not eager to enter it, nor did I intend to. Fortunately, the massive stone pillar from which False Bliss Chablis’ arm came from behind was positioned on the edge of the Weird Area, adjacent to the floor of the solarium area.

I stepped up to the dividing line on the floor and stopped before the Weird Area. I carefully peered carefully around, and there sitting inside a hollow carved into the structure of the stone pillar was False Bliss Chablis, the old hag, the same as always – sitting on a pile of frozen snow, surrounded by the ice-cold rock, completely bombed out of her mind, holding her usual magnum of wine on her lap.

She has long, gray scraggly hair. Her eyes are half closed in the drunken false bliss of intoxication.

She is not dressed for sitting inside a pillar of cold rock, encrusted with snow. She is wearing a light tank-top, arms and shoulders bare. The tank-top is made from the thinnest of rags. She wears pants that look like shabby wool. She is barefoot. Here feet are long, narrow, white and bony.

She always drinks the same brand of wine: “False Bliss Chablis.” (And thus the name I have come to call her by).

The label on her bottle of wine is always the same. Across the top in bold calligraphy-style letters is:

False Bliss Chablis

In the center is a pen-and-ink drawing of what looks to me like a Forest Goblin dressed like a monk. The Forest Goblin monk is jolly, has a pot belly, pointy ears and eyes, bald, and he is grinning proudly as he holds up a bunch of grapes.

Beneath the line drawing of the Forest Goblin Monk with his grapes are the words:

“The Finest!”

So I see False Bliss Chablis pathetic figure sitting there. She has my Philip of Macedon commemorative Olympics gold coin clutched in her hand. I shout at her:

“False Bliss! Give me back my coin! It is not for you!”

As usual, False Bliss Chablis is 100% oblivious to anything I say. Over the many years, I have tried to speak with her many times, and have tried to save her from her False Bliss, but to no avail.

But now I was seriously worried I had committed a major blunder. In my childish anger over the slight of Pandit Magnneson, I acted in haste and had delivered a gold coin of great value into the hands of the last person who should have it.

I was worried that, at the first opportunity, False Bliss would use my gold coin to buy not only more False Bliss Chablis, but maybe now she might even be able to up the ante, and possibly get her hands on some False Bliss Heroin, or maybe some False Bliss Meth.

I didn’t want to be responsible for that.

In case you are wondering, this was clearly more than just a matter of me stepping up and taking the gold coin back out of her hand – my past experience with False Bliss Chablis has taught me this would not be easy to do, and I won't go into that here.

But the even worse complication was this – I threw the gold coin away – and this could be looked upon as a willing relinquishment of the coin, and perhaps making False Bliss Chablis it rightful owner now.

That means taking it from her would create a major imbalance, the implications of which I did not want to think about.

I stepped back and thought over the situation for a moment. I looked over at the table where the Triad of the Nine sat. Their three ugly heads were still sitting on the table. The middle “normal” heads were in charge, and they were all bent forward – the three of them had their hands on an oracle which was moving across an Ouija board.

(Those who have read my other accounts of the Triad will know that they occasional use the Ouija board at The RET).

Upon seeing the Triad with an Ouija board – a plan formed in my mind.

I suddenly had a crazy idea about what I could do to get my gold coin back from the clutches of False Bliss Chablis.

I decided to approach the Triad of the Nine and explain my plan to them. I'll continue in my next post.

SEE: MINNESOTA PARANORMALA

IronGhost

A "Shadow Entity" Steals My Ax

So now I interrupt my documentation of events that have happened mostly one year ago to relate to all of you a strange incident that happened over the past few days.

It involves the mysterious disappearance of my ax. Here is what happened:

As I often do, after splitting firewood, a dropped my ax in the yard, intending to pick it up later – or whatever. When my wife came home that evening, she said: “Your ax is lying in the middle of the yard.”

I made a profound reply: “I know.”

The next day, a light snow sifted down from the gray Minnesota sky, our first snow of the year. I had an errand to run, and as I walked over to my car I noticed my ax, and made a mental note: “When I get back, I better pick up that ax in case it snows a lot because it might be hard to find if it gets covered with snow.”

I returned about a half hour later. The ground was lightly dusted with snow. I went over to my ax, only to see what you see in the picture below: The outline of where my ax once was.

ax1.jpg?w=500&h=375

No tracks around it – it was as if it had been lifted straight up, or just dissolved into nothing. (The implement you see next to the ax outline is a splitting wedge).

There were no tracks in the driveway either. Because of the light snow, I could see no one else had been in the yard, driving or walking.

To say the least, I was perplexed. When my wife came home, I told her about the missing ax, and we both puzzled over it. My wife told her mother and her brother about the strange incident. Everyone (except me) was in agreement that:

A. Someone had come into our yard and stolen the ax.

B. Perhaps one of my friends had stopped by to borrow the ax.

Of course, to me, it was incredibly obvious neither of these explanations could be true. If stolen, how did they manage to leave no tracks in the light dusting of snow?

The common explanation: “They” came and got the ax before the snow fell.

This could not be true for two reasons: I know it was snowing when I last saw the ax. And, second, if “They” had taken the ax before it snowed, why did the ax leave an outline of itself in the snow. Obviously the ax was lying there while being snowed upon.

A few other lame theories were passed around, but I’ll cut to the chase here and tell you what really happened.

What my wife and others did not know was this:

Before the ax vanished, my very dear friend Teshko, (pictured below) whom I believe to be a rare crow-raven hybrid, was acting rather strangely for several days.

tesh.jpg?w=500&h=666

Teshko

For example, the previous day, I went for a walk in the Fields of Wylussa with my young niece so that we could have a discussion about the confluence of nature with art.

Teshko shadowed us the whole way, flitting from tree to tree above us, which is nothing that unusual because he follows me around all the time -- except this time he seemed unusually excited about something. He occasional snapped off a twig or a dried leaf and dropped it in our path, or sometimes behind us.

The only other bird I have seen do this kind of thing is the magpie, and then only when my cat gets too close to its nest. They chatter and dive bomb the cat with twigs and leaves. I told my little niece about this, and she said: “Maybe Teshko wants something to stay away from us, too.”

Hmmmmmmmmm.

The next day, Teshko still seemed concerned about something. On one occasion, he did something he has never done before. I was writing, and stood up for a moment to look out the window. Teshko saw me and flew up to the window, tapped it, and flew back.

Highly peculiar!

Then, as I turned away from the window – a black flash across the ground!

For fleeting micro instant, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a small, deeply black shape zip by on the grass!

What the hell was it!?

It was as black as Teshko, but was about the size of a small human boy, perhaps. All I got, though, was a fleeting impression of an amorphous black shape, but with a foot and one short, curved leg extended out from behind it – moving at lightening speed.

Across from where the black shape had appeared, Teshko was perched in a tree, looking rather smug, as if to say, “I told you so!”

If Teshko had not been acting strangely, I probably would have shrugged it all off. I probably would have immediately dismissed the fleeting glimpse of a black shape as an anomaly of eyesight or light, or something like that.

But then I started thinking about chronostasis.

Perhaps that’s what enabled me to see this strange black shadow sprint across the grass.

Chronostasis is something well understood by neural-physiologists. It is a perception that arises from a type of eye movement called a “saccade” which in turn leads to something called “Saccadic Masking.”

To experience saccadic masking for yourself, notice that when you look at yourself in the mirror, then look away, and look back again. You can never catch the movement of your own eye. That’s because of saccadic masking. In short, the brain is not fast enough to keep up with the speed of your eyes to it blanks out or "misses" your eye movement.

A saccade lasts from 20 to 200 milliseconds. Also, our eyes performs thousands of saccades every day – about 20 to 30 per minute -- so that means our visual perceptions are “off line” for a good part of each day – yet we never notice these “blind spots.”

There are many competing theories to explain how the brain “compensates” for the fact that our eyes can’t see anything for thousands saccades all day, which I won’t get into here because it is controversial.

But the whole saccade phenomenon has led some philosophers – such as Daniel Dennet – to suggest the “reality” we think we perceive with our eyesight is merely an illusion.

Rather, Dennet said that each of us is carrying our mind a “Cartesian Theater” – but I’m not going to get into that right now either.

NOW AN EXTREMELY IMPORTANT POINT:

The eyesight of human beings and that of birds is incredibly different because of this whole saccade issue – which is why I think Teshko was upset and wanted to warn me about the “black shape” running around in my living space – this entity was probably even “shadowing” my walk in the Fields of Wylussa with my young niece the previous day – which made Teshko upset. Perhaps he was even bombing the shadow entity with twigs like a magpie does to cats.

But back to bird eyesight: The saccade is more important to bird eyesight than to humans. That’s because of something called the “pectin oculi.” Birds have pectin oculi and we do not.

As human beings, we have blood vessels in front of our retinas, which partially obscure our frontal vision.

In birds, the pectin oculi lifts the blood vessels away from the front of the retina, which gives them highly superior direct vision, so to speak. In short, birds almost certainly can see things that we cannot, or at least see them a lot better.

But birds also need the pectin oculi to help respirate their fovea – and all this makes the saccade more integral to their perception – but let me not get too buried in all this bird physiology here.

I want to make one more interesting note, however: As a lifetime amateur astronomer, I long ago learned about something called “averted vision.” This is when you are trying to see a very dim star in the sky, but you can’t quite grasp it visually. If you move your eye slightly to the side of the dim star, you will be able to see it better. Averted vision has come in handy for me many times, especially in the past when I was really into telescopic variable star observation.

Of course, the reason “averted vision works” is because of what I just talked about: The blood vessels in the front of my retina blocks some of the light from a dim star, but if I “avert” my eye, I allow more light to enter and strike the cones and rods, which are the photoreceptor neurons in my eyes.

So I was thinking along these lines about the strange black “shadow entity, and then I also thought:

• Rapid back-and forth eye movement (REM) characterizes the lucid dream state

• Rapid back-and-forth eye movement is a known method for seeing the dead.

If you don’t believe that latter point, then I would direct you to the work of Dr. Allan Botkin, and something called EMDR, which stands for “Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing.”

Botkin

In short, Botkin is a psychologist who treats people who have been traumatized over the deaths of loved ones, and he works primarily with soldiers who were badly traumatized in war, suffering through the death of their buddies – or tormented by the memory of people they had to kill.

Using a method that involved inducing back-and-forth movement of the eyes, traumatized veterans are able to “see” the people who are dead, and communicate with them.

So I wondered if this all worked together somehow: Chronostasis, rapid eye movement, averted visions, the superior pectin oculi enhancement of bird eyes, Teshko’s strange behavior …

So now let me continue with the ax incident:

As I suggested on my Minnesota Paranormala site, my first thought was that the Hidden People were the obvious suspects for swiping my ax.

Who else could lift my ax from this dimension without leaving any tracks in the snow? I know they are here, and that they like to cause mischief – the only problem is that I have been at peace with the Hidden People are about a year now.

In my previous posts about the Hidden People, I never told you about an incredible “final” encounter I had with the Hidden People after I inflicted the Hex of the Festering Five Flashes upon them.

Perhaps I will post the details of this event later – but the thrust of what you need to know is that the Hidden People made it clear to me that:

A. They acknowledged my existence as “real” (such as there is any reality).

B. That they now wished to live in peaceful coexistence with me from this point on.

There was this huge ceremonial banquet to seal the deal between us – again – I have not told you about any of this. The bottom line is, the Hidden People and I are enjoying a truce.

So when my ax disappeared, my first reaction was that it must have been the Hidden People – but this just didn’t sit well with me because I just couldn’t believe they would provoke me again, and for no reason, especially after the fabulous peace banquet.

I was certain of one thing, however: Teshko knew something.

Fortunately, I think I knew a way that I could get more information out of him.

So the next day with the ax still missing, I spent the day as I usually do writing endless pages of schlock to make a buck, but I also attuned myself all day to Teshko, with the goal of meeting up with him in the lucid dream/astral realm that night – not something that is all that easy to do at will, by the way.

After a long day, I composed myself for sleep, hoping to find Teshko in a dimension where we could communicate with each other in a more direct, non-5-senses way – and maybe I could find out what he knew about my missing ax.

Unfortunately that night, I was carried off to a frequent persistent dream scenario wherein I have only semi-control. Yes, even after all my years of lucid dreaming training, I am still subject to experiencing dreams of some non-control – or I should say – dreams which I have been partially stripped of my ego-volition.

On this night I was carried off to what I call the “City of the Silver Domes” –this is a strange place, where I am sort of forced to join a team of men in gray suits, and whose job, as far as I can figure out, is to conduct some kind of census like survey, but then also attempt to sell bizarre products to people --- but I won’t get into any of this now.

Suffice it to say that night my desire to contact Teshko in the astral-dream world were thwarted because I had to “put in my time” with the Men in Gray Suits in the City of the Silver Domes. I have to wear a Gray suit, too. It's pretty irritating.

BTW, my duties with the Gray Suits are also exhausting, and I tend to wake up from this long dream situation feeling like I have slept poorly during the night. So the next day, I got to work at my keyboard as usual, but at about 10 a.m., I was so tired I decided to lie down on the couch for a brief nap.

On the couch, I composed myself for rest by doing a Zen breathing exercise, and then let myself drift into nappy time – when suddenly I !!! “Awoke” !!! -- but I wasn’t awake!

I was dreaming!

I knew I was dreaming because there sitting in front of me in my living room was “The Dirty Gold Falcon.”

The Dirty Gold Falcon is Teshko.

In the dream-astral world, Teshko takes the form of a bird that is a kind of hybrid between raven and falcon – but mostly falcon. His feathers are gold, but streaked or highlighted with black. He looks like a gold flacon that has been messing around in a coal mine – which is why I call him the Dirty Gold Falcon.

In the “real” world, Teshko is a crow-raven hybrid, but in the dream-astral realm, he is a raven-falcon hybrid.

I bolted upright. I said: “Teshko! Well met! What’s going on around here? What’s bothering you – and who stole my ax! And what was that black shadow? Do you know!”

The Dirty Gold Falcon flew out the window – well, in this dream version of my home, there was no real window, at least no window pane -- anyway, Teshko flew out, and I got up and “jumped” out of the window as well – moving in that strange flying-walking way that one sometimes travels in a realm that is only slightly dimensionally shifted from my normal, waking-physical environment.

Teshko sored impressively around my yard, and just for fun of it, swooped down to goose one of my “dream chickens” (in real life I keep chickens who are free range) –

Note: I suppose I should not really say “dream chickens” because my chickens in this dream state looked like they normally do in “real life”, so maybe they were just “analog chickens” – but let’s not digress.

Teshko spiraled impressively in the air, then closed his wings and soared down like a bullet – he was headed straight for the “Four Source Doorways.”

GAK!

In “real” life, the Four Source Doorways are some ordinary very old broken down grain bins a ways from my yard, and here they are pictured here:

p1020078.jpg?w=500&h=375

The Four Source Doorways

In the dream-astral realm, however, these old grain bins become something exceedingly strange – I call them the Four Source Doorways because that is what MOMMY told me they are called. From left to right in the picture, these are, according to MOMMY:

Source Doorway 1

Source Doorway 2

Source Doorway Broken

Source Doorway Flavored

Perhaps someday I will dig out the transcript in which MOMMY gives me the complete rundown and explanation of what the Source Doorways are – I’ll only say for now, they are very, very, very WEIRD, I don’t go out of my way to mess around with them!

The few times I went through one of other of the Source Doorways – well, it was super-mondo-bizzaro times for all, believe you me!!! Generally, I avoid the Source Doorways.

Even I have a limit for strangeness.

You will notice an interesting attribute of the Four Source Doorways in the picture. They are guarded by nearly identical oak trees on either side. MOMMY also has some significant comments on this as well. The oaks which guard the Four Source Doorways are not just there for window dressing

An interesting aside about these two oaks – the one on the left is an extremely prolific producer of acorns whereas the one on the right, as far as I know, does not produce acorns. Positive and negative anodes? Yin and Yang? A balance of opposite powers? Who knows.

Anyway, I was chagrined to see that Teshko, the Dirty Gold Falcon, was heading straight for the Doorways, and in particular, he was flying toward Source Doorway Broken. (Ugh! The worst one!)

When I arrived and stood a few yards across from the Doorways, Teshko plummeted through the missing roof of Source Door Broken way and came blazing out the front missing door an instant later – he was coming straight toward me.

As if in slow motion, Teshko executed a muscular air-break by fanning out his wings, and as he did so, he extended forward a talon and rammed it right into my chest.

I fell backwards, but immediately got up again. Teshko had jazzed me in some way. I felt scintillating electricity – I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do, but it was obvious that Teshko wanted me to investigate Source Doorway Broken --- AHHHHHH!!! – the last thing I wanted to do!

Source Doorways 1 and 2 are bad enough!

Source Doorway Broken sucks!

I’ve have never even dared enter Source Doorway Flavored!!!!

However, curiosity is a powerful force, and I simply had to find out what happened to my ax, and all this certainly had something to do with it. But then I thought: “I don’t necessarily have to enter Source Doorway Broken! I’ll just approach carefully and peek inside the door!”

This is what I did. A crept forward like a jungle soldier expecting to get ambushed at any moment. I reached the opening of Source Doorway Broken and peered inside. What immediately captured my attention was the circular floor. It was rotating, with a slight wobble.

All across the surface of the floor was some kind of broken-lined code, moving slowly back and forth – little bronze-colored lines or bands moving from side to side, sometimes merging with each other, sometimes elongating – they were functioning and pulsating – they reminded me in a way of bacteria as seen through a microscope, but that’s only an impression.

As I extended my consciousness toward the rotating coded circular floor of Source Doorway Broken – there was immediate blow-back – that is, I felt a “consciousness force” stream back toward me. The blow back force encountered the electrical “consciousness sphere” of my mind – and this caused a very dramatic psychic disassembling or scrambling of my rational thought process.

For a very long time over my years of lucid dream practice, I have confronted this peculiar “scrambling force.” It’s a situation in which normal rational, linear, A = A or A = B = C type thinking is totally thwarted or compromised.

What ensues is a kind of nonsensical thought process that seems to be totally unimaginable “thought gibberish.”

Perhaps many of you have experienced this scrambling of rational-linear thought in the dream state as well. I have no doubt that many of you have.

The important thing is to retain some kind of basic recognition that this is happening, even though you cannot think normally or rationally when it is happening – because your rational, linear thought is being scrambled.

But what I have been able to determine over the years as that when you get this kind of consciousness scrambling “blow back” is that total nonsense has not ensued – but rather, what this indicates is that your mind has confronted a multi-dimensional thought environment, and that you have actually shifted into a multi-dimensional thought mode.

Think of it this way: You’re playing chess on a regular flat, two-dimensional board, and suddenly, the chess board adds several layers and become a 3-dimensional chess board – the kind of chess set Mr. Spock always played on in the old Star Trek TV shows.

Or think of it this way: You are working the flat two-dimensional Ouija board, and all of a sudden the Ouija board expands into a cube, and the letters and symbols on your Ouija board become suspended within a cube of three-dimensional space, adding great dimension to the complexity and amount of communication you can receive.

(In fact, as I will show you later, this is the nature of Dr. 58’s Hassas Grid!)

But now imagine that the chess set or the Ouija board expands to even more dimensions. It goes from 2-D to 3-D – and then even more exotic dimensions expand it to even greater levels of complexity!

Try to imagine what that is like! It’s a major frontal-lobe twister baby!

The most natural reaction for we human beings who are accustomed to operating in linear-thought, 3-D world (with a foggy notion of the 4th dimension of time spectrally mixed in) is to simply flee from what we are experiencing as “nonsense.”

However, if you stick with it, master your fear and retain your sense of calm and stability – and look directly into the consciousness dimensional shift – you can learn to operate at least to some degree in a higher dimensional environment.

You have to be utterly accepting of novelty. You have to be a like a palm tree in a hurricane, bending with the wind, not breaking. You cannot allow yourself to have the fear of the loss of ego. Your ego will bend, not break.

On this day, standing before the rotating code patterns on the floor of Source Doorway Broken, I moved backward and away from the consciousness blow back.

I took my mind away for an instant, and felt the return of normal-mode thought. I looked up into the sky – Teshko the Dirty Gold Falcon screeched and circled. It was inspiration seeing him up there.

I felt love for my beautiful friend Teshko, which spurred my creativity. I felt a notion, perhaps an insight.

I thrust my dream hand up toward the sky and commanded the Energy Bar Tool.

“ !!!!!!!!!!!!!! ENERGY BAR !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! “

The Energy Bar Tool came forth !

! I grasped the Energy Bar Tool in my hand !

In my consciousness, I invoked that “feeling” of “universal imbalance” created by the theft of my ax.

I felt a surge as the Energy Bar Tool accepted the “negative charge” and began to resonate in an incompleteness cycle.

The Energy Bar grew hungry!

It radiated the imperfection of the imbalance!

The Energy Bar Tool leveraged the frustration of the imbalance and incompleteness cycle to charge itself further …

…. to power up ….

….to ache for an encounter with a balancing force!

The Energy Bar Tool was sizzling hot for stasis!

With supreme concentration, I moved again toward Source Doorway Broken. I kept my “eyes” closed.

I shielded my mind from the radiation of higher dimensional thought blow back coming from the wobbly rotating floor of Source Doorway Broken.

Moving as if blind, feeling my way forward, I gained the gaping door of Source Doorway Broken.

I stuck my “head” inside, raised the Energy Bar Tool high above my head, and for the briefest micro-instant – I opened my eyes.

In the same motion with the opening of my eyes, I thrust the Energy Bar Tool onto the rotating floor of code.

A “THWUMP” of concussion energy blew me back on my ass!

I looked up to see the circular floor of Source Door Broken rising up (thankfully, Source Doorway Broken has no roof) – and the circle and code was spinning end over end!

As the speed of the spinning increased – I knew that I had accomplished what I wanted to!

I had increased the dimensional representation of the codes on the floor with spin!

The spinning codes revealed themselves – they coalesced -- to become the “form” of AX!

Y-E-E-E-E-E-E---H-A-A-A-A-A-W!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Dirty Gold Falcon screeched with delight across the sky!

The circular floor of Source Doorway Broken was so rapid it became as a glowing sphere.

In the center of the sphere was suspended the ax!

Overcome with exuberance, I felt I needed to share this incredible event with someone!

I tilted my head to the sky. I shouted and pointed: “T-E-E-E-S-H-K-O!!! HA! HA! HA! HA! THE AX!!!!!!”

“IT’S THE AX T-E-E-E-S-H-K-O!!!!!!!!!!! HA! HA! HA! HA!

Teshko performed a magnificent role, like a blazing F-15, and answered:

“S-C-R-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Teshko soared higher. A shaft of sunlight flashed gold from his wings.

The flash of gold expanded exponentially; erupting like a hydrogen bomb!

When the shock wave of the golden explosion hit me – I was blasted awake on my couch!

I sprang to my feet. I looked around my living room in disoriented confusion.

A minute later I was clear headed enough to run outside – to find the ax lying on the grass just where it had been before it had disappeared!

I picked up the ax – and immediately noticed something strange – it wasn’t the same ax that had gone missing, not exactly anyway.

p1020075.jpg?w=500&h=666

This ax (more well used and altered from the original) has been on a multi-dimensional journey

This ax had a broader head. The ax that went missing had a more narrow configuration – it was actually more of a splitting wedge.

But I decided not to quibble. The imbalance had been restored. I had “my” ax back – retrieved from whatever inter-dimensional journey it had been on.

******

When my wife came home that evening, I proudly displayed the ax.

“Well, it’s back,” I told her, beaming.

She said: “That doesn’t look like the same ax.”

I said: “Whatever, it’s an ax.”

So everyone’s subsequent theories to explain the mysterious disappearance and return of “the magic ax” went like this:

Someone came over and took the ax. Then, for some reason, they decided to return a slightly different ax a couple of days later – perhaps overcome with guilt for stealing the original ax.

I told my wife and others: “But that’s a ridiculous theory! Why would someone come into our yard – leaving no tracks in the snow – steal an ax – and then bring back another ax two days later?”

And they said to me: “They just felt guilty! Do you have a better theory? What do you think happened to the ax?”

I said, “Well …

IronGhost

I Bring The "Iron Symbol" To The RET

You would not believe how much thinking I had to do, and how much information I had to gather, to resolve the situation I had involved myself within concerning Gefraim, the MTE, Dr. 58 and all the rest.

Anyway, and also, the ongoing gigantic challenge I have here involves deciding what to explain to all of you, and what information I can leave out so as not to get too bogged down in mind-numbing detail – while at the same time enabling all of you to understand what is going on.

What I am going to do right now is tell you about a trip I made to The Restaurant on the Edge of Time – I had a specific purpose for going there.

I needed to make my mission to The RET before I continued my conversation with Dr. 58 about the significance of the symbolic nature of his Hassas Grid – how it intersects with my Ouija board – and the fact that the two meet or intersect with what I will call a “Pan-Dimensional Communications Archetype Device.”

(I’ll refer to this incredible “instrument” as the PAN-CAD for convenience).

I think it will be okay to explain to all of you later what the PAN-CAD is, how I discovered it, and how it will fit into my overall plan to kill the Man Thing Entity, and free Gefraim – and why I think all of this simply had to be done.

In fact, I think after I tell you about this trip to The RET, I will write a summarizing piece that will review and make clear everything that is going on – so sit tight for now – and let me tell you about what happened in my next trip to The RET.

>>>>

Two hours before going to bed, I drew the alchemical symbol for iron, which is the same symbol used to represent the god Mars, and also is used as the symbol for the male.

ironalchemysymbol.jpg?w=200&h=210

There is a kind of meditation called “meditation with seed.” The seed can be the choice of any object to focus all of your attention upon while you exclude all other thoughts. You can use anything – a pebble, a flower, a pencil – in this case, I chose the alchemical symbol for iron.

Essentially, I used this is method in a kind of dual purpose: To program the lucid dream state I wanted to enter, and to be able to bring the symbol of iron with me into the dream world, and ultimately to The RET.

After two hours of intense focus on “Iron” I went to bed and fell fast asleep. I became aware of a flying, floating sensation. I opened by “astral eyes” and was delighted to see that I was floating about 50 feet above my house on a starry night.

(Note: The temptation is extremely great to remain in this environment, and to descend into the Minnesota forest and commune with the whispering nocturnal creatures of the woods as an “invisible” astral wisp, but I had other work to do this night).

Presently, a swirling vortex appeared in the sky, smearing and blurring a portion of the lovely stars – I wasted no time and sent myself plunging into the “star vortex” –soon I was being hurled along at unimaginable speed through what I have been calling “the starry tunnel” for the past 30 years, or so.

In my consciousness, I held close the symbol for Iron while also keying on the psycho-emotional-consciousness “signature” of The RET. My speed increased through the Starry Tunnel and I become aware of that frightening sensation of being “stretched” into what feels like millions of miles of “string consciousness.” Sometimes I cry out, as I did this time: “YAHHHHHHH!!!!!!”

And then:

! KA-WHUMP !

I slowly come aware of something like my own normal physical form. I open my eyes, I stare down at my feet – and yes! – I see the fractal pattern! The distinctive floor of The RET! I made it!

I stare intently at the fractal patterns until the solidity of The RET environment stabilizes. I look up – I am perhaps 50 paces from the gigantic solarium viewing area which looks out into the ancient landscape. I see the yellow-white sun streaming in. I feel butterflies in my stomach as I walk toward the solarium because I never know what I am going to see outside!!

Jittery with anticipation, and suffused with a feeling of subtle joy and sparkling awareness (the heightened vibration rate of The RET environment, combined with my freedom from the limited “5-senses” mode of consciousness) I move toward the tables in the solarium area – and as I arrive there, I see three things that make think I’m in for an interesting time – although what I see first makes me groan.

For there occupying one of the tables in a corner is the Triad of the Nine, looking glum, yet eager -- evidently still having no luck getting some sucker to donate another head to them so they can “achieve the quad.”

(Note: For those of you unfamiliar with the Triad of the Nine, I believe I first introduced them here: TRIAD OF THE NINE

When they see me, the Triad immediately remove their grotesquely ugly bottom-tier heads and place them on the table. I observe with disgust as one of the removed heads reaches out with a slimy raw-liver tongue to lick up some crumbs off the table.

The middle-tier of bland, normal heads of the Triad are now in command, and they eye me with great interest and wave at me, beckoning me to come join them at their table. I am not in the mood for their “donate-your-head-to-us” hard sell, however. As always, I am not keen to part with my head, so I just wave back at them, pretending I think they just meant to wave at me, and not ‘wave me over’.

On another table positioned near the center of the solarium area I see none other than Pandit Magnneson, the mirror-like 'stainless steel' super intelligent ‘bowling ball’ sitting alone on top of, and in the middle of one of the hardwood tables of The RET. There were a few other guests -- some 'normal' and a few others of exceedingly odd appearance sitting at other tables, but I won’t discuss them here.

There were no Hidden People in evidence.

As I covered the distance from where I ‘landed’ to the solarium, I scanned the walls and ceilings of The RET, and was extremely disappointed to find that the Cosmic Brain Vine was nowhere to be seen. Apparently, like any other guest of The RET, the Brain Vine comes and goes.

But what truly baked my noodle was what I saw outside the solarium window there on the ancient landscape!

In fact, I was slack-jawed with amazement!

For there outside, not more than 20 meters from the window, were three giant human beings – or I should say, they looked like human beings -- except that they were 30, maybe 35 feet tall!

I don’t know why I let anything surprise me at The RET – I mean, obviously, you never know what to expect in this bizarre environment – but there was something about these giants, beyond the fact that they were giants. A certain aura emanated from them. Not a visible aura, but a feeling. Looking upon them engendered a sense of indefinable awe, or perhaps inexplicable reverence – it’s difficult to find the right words.

I don’t want to go into detail describing their remarkable clothing – but I will say these three were positioned in a line, one in the lead, the other two following -- their hands were folded before them as if in prayer, their heads were bowed slightly down, and then were taking super-slow-motion steps, all in unison.

I think they were performing some kind of ritual – like a walking meditation. The giant in the front was a white male with smoggy-sunshine-blonde hair, a thick mustache, square jaw, piercing blue eyes – perhaps a perfect mixture of Robert Redford, Nick Nolte with a hint of Daniel Craig thrown in – in short, a magnificently handsome godlike Adonis.

The giant in the middle was an incredibly, even shockingly lovely woman who looked to be of African extraction – she was graced with magnificently rich ebony skin that seemed to absorb sunlight, transform it, and send it back out as radiant darkness, glowing as if with Hawking Radiation.

Her elegant posture, her graceful neck, the shape of her beautiful head – clasped with a burnished gold circlet – it was all as if she was designed by a master artisan of the Nubian Dynasty!! But her eyes! Slightly almond-shaped, with pupils of the deepest black, like the depths of outer space, but with none of the coldness of space–

WOOOOOWWWW!!!!!

Those exquisite jet-black eyes!!!!!! -- pools of velvet oil! -– beaming softness and warmth!

I could hardly stand it! I simply had to look away from the shattering pulchritude of this elegant creature – or certainly my hold on the lucid dream state would dissolve!!!!

The third giant behind her, was an older male with weather-worn skin, yet ruggedly handsome, his face looked as if had been chiseled out of a block of polished beech wood, and his hair was snow white. He bore the appearance of a scholar or philosopher.

I’m sure if I would have taken a seat there in The RET solarium, and allowed myself to gaze out at the procession of the divine-giants, I probably would have sat there in hypnotic-dream fascination until my wife threw a pale of water on my head back in the physical world to retrieve me from the “Other Realms.”

Even just writing this now and thinking of the giants produces such a force-light feeling – like you're 7 years old and it's your birthday... or as if I was looking out over the magnificent vista of the Grand Canyon while holding hands with my wife and eating a chocolate bar…

Anyway, I forced my attention always from the giants – although a million questions burned in my skull – Who are they? What are they? Where are they from? Are they really meditating? Will they come inside The RET later for a glass of wine? Can I speak with them? What can I learn from them? –

-- and, of course, for a person like me perpetually steeped is all the general New Age consciousness ka-ka, I couldn’t help but think: “Could they be Nephilim?”

-- but I had to jettison all this conjecture and get on with my business.

As I said, I was extremely disappointed that the Cosmic Brain Vine was not “in da house” – and also, I was somewhat troubled that I had yet to encounter the Goddess Waitress, who was usually on hand to welcome me to The RET, and chat me up in her uber-charming way.

Just as I thought this, a felt an odd “tickle” coming from the direction of the Hallway of Infinity (See map below) and as I look toward it a “chain” comes shooting out of it to land at my feet.

the-ret.jpg?w=450&h=337

I pick up the end of the chain, which appears to be made from spun filaments of platinum, and I feel a tension on it. I start pulling on the chain. It grows taught. The other end projects away from me, disappearing into endless distance of the Hall of Infinity. I began pulling on it hand-over-hand, as if in reeling in a fish, as you do when you ice fish.

Presently, I see a dim figure forming at the other end of the chain. At first it’s just a green shimmer. As I continue reeling the filament, the green blur slowly resolves into form – at first I see what looks like a green metallic dress, and as I keep pulling, I see the form of the Goddess Waitress began to take shape.

Before long, the Goddess Waitress emerges from the Hallway of Infinity, the platinum chain fastened to her slender waist. She is wearing a strapless mini-dress that appears to be made of heavy-guage green tinfoil. Her shoulders are bare. The cut of her dress is tastefully above the knee, and I notice that the Goddess Waitress is barefoot.

When she steps through the threshold emerging into The RET proper out of the Hallway of Infinity -- what an entrance! -- she detaches the chain braid from her waist, lets it drop, and the end I am holding zips out of my hand as it retracts briskly back into Infinity.

The Goddess Waitress glides toward me on naked feet that barely touch the floor, or so it seems, such is her natural grace. She puts her hand on my elbow and says, “Thank you.”

I beam at her like an idiot and try to untie my tongue. Before I can think of something intelligent to say to her, she produces a small carved box, which looks to be made from ivory. The Goddess Waitress hands it to me and says: “Here, this arrived for you.”

Glad to have a distraction, I take the small box, which has a wonderfully-carved spiral design. I open it, and inside I am pleased to see a small amulet embossed in 3-D relief with the symbol for Iron. “Ah ha!” I think. “I did it! I successfully brought the “Iron Symbol” with me to The RET!”

For the briefest micro-second, the Goddess Waitress placed her delicate palm to my chest and says, “Okay, I’ll see you later,” and she whisks away. I am somewhat surprised that she turns and enters the “Weird Area” and then she is gone.

I am flummoxed for a moment; I look around again for the Cosmic Brain Vine – still not around. I wonder what I am going to so with the Iron Symbol if I cannot find locate the Cosmic Brain Vine – but I decide not to worry about it for now. I turn my attention to Pandit Magnneson – perhaps he can provide me with some clues about where I might find the Vine.

I move over to Pandit’s table and sit down across from him. I am uncertain how I can communicate with this Stainless Steel ball – I remember from my previous visit to The RET that the Giant Rocker Chick was speaking verbally with Pandit, but I don’t recall Pandit emitting any verbalization in return. I assumed that he was communicating telepathically with the Rocker Chick, even though she spoke to him with voice. Could I do the same?

So I attempted to open a conversation with Pandit Magnneson.

“Hello,” I said to Pandit. “I was wondering if I could speak with you?”

To my utter amazement, my own reflection in the silvery mirror-like surface of Pandit Magnneson began to speak back to me. Against the mirror-sphere surface, it looked as if I was seeing myself through a peephole in a door, distorted big nose and all.

“Yes, greetings,” my reflection said. “I will speak to you if you will help me with something.”

Maybe you ‘had to be there’ as they say, but this was sort of a confounding experience. My rounded, big-nosed sphere-distorted reflection was speaking to me – yet I knew this was not me – and that it must have been Pandit Magnneson’s way of communicating – he was somehow leveraging my own mirror-image, using it as an avatar to speak for himself.

Trying to stay focused, I said: “What is it that I can help you with, Pandit – I am speaking with Pandit, right?”

“Yes,” the Pandit-Me Reflection said. “It is I, Pandit Magnneson.”

“So you have ego-based consciousness, then?”

“For speaking with you, why not?” the Pandit-Me reflection said.

“You mentioned you wanted help with something. What can I help you with?” I asked.

“I require your assistance to absorb energy,” the Pandit-Me Reflection said.

(Note: Incidentally, I noticed, with some surprise, that in my reflection on the surface of Pandit, I was wearing a robe of deep-brown, almost black color. My robe had a hood, but it was turned down. Near my right shoulder was stitched a crest in the form of the Iron Symbol. BTW, looking at your reflection at any time in the dream world is an interesting experience, but I won’t go into it now.)

“And how can I help you absorb energy, Pandit?” I asked.

“You will serve as my proxy.”

“How so?” I asked. “I must warn you, my species has a strong aversion to parasites.”

“You concerns do not apply here,” my own reflection said to me …I mean, Pandit said to me. “The absorption of energy will be mutual.”

As Pandit said this, the Goddess Waitress appeared behind me and set a platter of food in front of me. On the plate was what looked like two rather cylindrical green tubers composed of some kind of tough, fibrous vegetable matter. They were Army green and about the width of pop cans, but longer. They were steaming from being cooked, perhaps boiled. The closest reference I can make is that they were like big fat broccoli stems, although they did not have a “broccoli vibe” if you know what I mean. These vegetables seemed rather alien to me.

“What are these?” I asked the lovely Goddess Waitress.

“When, or if, you choose to take a bite of them, the nature of the organism will make itself known to you,” she said in her lilting, musical voice.

“How interesting,” I said. “And will Pandit Magnneson be dining as well?”

The Goddess-Waitress winked at me. “If you so choose,” she said cryptically, then whirled and walked away.

I dawned on me how this bizarre situation might play out.

Since everything I did was reflected on the surface of Pandit Magnneson, and since Pandit could leverage my image as a communications avatar, it seemed to follow, then, that when I ate, my Pandit reflection would eat, and in this way, Pandit would “absorb energy” using me as a proxy.

I almost feel like apologizing to all you, my readers, for this ridiculously fruity situation, but what can I say? I’m just reporting what I experienced.

I must admit I was curious about how all this would work, and I was also curious to see if the origin of the green tuber food would make itself known to me upon eating it, and what that might feel like. So without further ado, I grasped the animal-horn handle of the obsidian knife, sawed off a slice of the one of the tubers and stuffed it in my mouth.

As I expected, it was bland -- it tasted basically like musty cheese made out of a boiled Crayon. I swallowed and continued to eat more of the tubers – as I did so, my reflection on the surface of Pandit Magnneson mirrored my every move. I assumed that Pandit was accomplishing his energy absorption as I ate by proxy for him.

With each swallow – knowledge streamed into my consciousness.

I began to understand the origin of the “food” substance I was eating. It seems that these green tubers were once two separate species that had entered a symbiotic relationship millions of years ago. These things started out primarily as vegetation growing under the surface of a warm, murky sea.

But then uncountable eons ago, this tough fibrous sea plant entered into a mutualistic relationship with a single-celled, or I should say, unicellular organism of extraordinary size – an amazingly large amoeba-like life form I perceived to have been perhaps as large as 10 centimeters, yet still of only of single-cell nature.

I mean, I was, like, god-smacked by the enormous size of this unicellular entity, which I also perceived to be definitely not a fungus. My knowledge sense was that this ‘amoeba’ more closely related to the insect family.

Over the gazillions of centuries, the cellular structure of the green sea tubers began to rely on the RNA of the amoeba-like unicell giant to carry out basic reproduction -- but of even more importance – the green sea tubers began to rely heavily on certain enzymatic agents of the giant amoeba to maintain the basic integrity of the cytoplasm within the individual cells of the tubers – in exchange, the giant amoeba increased its own survival potential significantly because it could tap into the green sea tuber’s ability to make it much, much easier for the amoeba to obtain energy by leveraging the sea tuber's processes to oxidize certain acetates … Anyway, I digress.

I could write many, many pages on the millions-year pageant of these bland green hybrid sea tubers, and their fantastic adventure of survival down through countless ages -- but perhaps it’s fortunate for myself and all of you readers here that I just don’t have the time.

So by the time all of the knowledge of the sea tubers had finished “downloading” into my consciousness, I had managed to clean my plate. I leaned back and was surprised to see my reflection on the surface of Pandit Magnneson sitting back and blissfully smoking a pipe – although I had no pipe of my own! I assumed I had enabled Pandit to accomplish his “energy transfer.”

I found myself hankering to chase away the frowsy taste of the tubers with some Million Year Wine, and just as I thought this, the lovely Goddess Waitress was at my elbow, setting down a wooden goblet –

-- and then there was a strange incident.

The Goddess-Waitress was still wearing her stunning metallic-green number -- her extreme beauty poured into this glinting frock was truly something worthy of poetry – and this did not seem lost on Pandit Magnneson.

I was shocked as I saw my reflection on the surface of Pandit Magnneson reach out and attempt to grope the buttocks of the reflection of the Goddess Waitress –

-- Instinctively, I swung out my first and punched myself in the face as hard as I could!

I was overjoyed to see that my lightening-fast –- totally-without-thought-reaction -- was mirrored in the reflection of Pandit Magnneson – so in effect, I forced Pandit Magnneson to punch himself in the face! – abruptly putting an end to his sleazy gropings.

The look on my own face – that is, in my reflection which was actually the avatar of Pandit Magnneson – was priceless! He never saw it coming!

In the meantime, the Goddess Waitress bent down and wrapped her arms around my head, and laid the side of her face on the top of my head, and she cooed in my ear: “How very sweet of you to punch yourself in the face!”

As she did this, the Pandit-Me reflection glowered out at us. In the reflection, the Goddess Waitress reflection was not embracing my Pandit reflection head, but rather, receding back into The Ret in the mirror image of Pandit’s surface.

Wow, I see this is getting rather lengthy for a blog post, so I will continue my report in the next post, which includes more interaction with Pandit Magnneson, and what I plan to do with the “Iron Symbol” in regards to the Cosmic Brain Vine …

PLEASE VISIT: MINNESOTA PARANORMALA

IronGhost

I was pleasantly surprised to find in my email box this stunning take on the “Goddess Waitress” from the Restaurant on the Edge of Time, beautifully done by New Zealand artist Sanjana Baijnath. This is Sanjan’s impression of what the Goddess Waitress might look like.

I mean, wow! This is a lovely piece of art. I think Sanjana captured the essential luminous, sensual, slightly dangerous, powerful quality of the Goddess Waitress – I gazed at this portrait for a long time – I could not be more delighted and impressed by the talent of the artist – and spent some time looking at a lot of her other work at: http://www.sanjanasart.com/

(That’s an unsolicited plug, by the way). What do you all think? I'm in "oh wow!" mode.

005f.jpg?w=500&h=636

IronGhost

Wally Horns In On My Dr. 58 Session

Opening Statement: We seek communication with Dr. 58. Are you positioned inside the Hassas Grid, Dr. 58?

ANSWER: HELLO, KEN. I WANT TO TALK TO YOU.

Question: Who is this?

ANSWER: WALLY.

(Note: For those of you not familiar with my other transcripts, this is Wally Molinez, a dead Mexican man whom I have mentioned from time to time. He was killed somewhere in the 1960s (I think) when a trailer hitch fell on his head. I have been communicating with Wally on and off for some 30 years now. He is a rather persistent pest who horns in on my sessions whenever he wants to. I think Wally is a crashing bore, but I feel obligated, as a friend, to chit-chat with him now and then.)

Question: Hello, Wally. Do you have anything important to talk about because I really am in the middle of something important here. Maybe we can talk later, Wally?

ANSWER: DO YOU HAVE A TV, KEN?

Question: A television? Yes, why do you ask?

ANSWER: I FORGOT WHAT IT WAS, AND NOW I KNOW WHERE ONE IS.

Question: Now that’s interesting. They have television in the barzakh? I can’t imagine how that would work. It’s probably all in your mind, Wally.

ANSWER: WHERE IS THE BARZAKH? IS THAT WHERE THEY MAKE THE TVS?

Question: No, Wally. I’m sorry to use the term barzakh. You are not familiar with it. It’s the same as the bardo world. We have discussed this many, many times, Wally. You’re dead. You are a bardo. Remember? Sometimes I wish you would get a grip on this.

ANSWER: ALL THAT. BUT THERE IS A CABIN BY THE BEACH. THERE IS A TV THERE NOW.

(Note: In Wally's bardo world, he lives in a tropical location, which I assume is probably some lovely sea-side location in his native Mexico. (He was killed in Texas). All he does is hang out on the beach, drink, eat and cavort with beautiful women).

Question: I can’t believe I am getting drawn into this. So what about the TV?

ANSWER: THE PICTURE IS ALL SNOWY. I NEVER OWNED A TV. HOW DO YOU FIX IT?

Question: Jeepers. You never owned a TV when you were alive?

ANSWER: I AM ALIVE.

Question: (Exasperated) I know, Wally, I know. I mean, before your life changed! Remember when you were working at your job as a traveling handyman? You must have stayed in a motel, or something, or been in a bar that had a TV, right?

ANSWER: BUT I NEVER HAD TO MAKE IT CLEAR. HOW DO YOU FIX IT?

Question: Does it show anything at all? How many channels do you get?

ANSWER: ONLY ONE CHANNEL COMES IN GOOD, BUT IT IS SNOWY. THERE ARE OTHER CHANNELS, BUT ONE ONLY SHOWS PICTURES. ONE IS JUST A MAN TALKING.

Question: Does the TV have an antenna? In your day, Wally, when you were alive, before your change, all TV’s had an antenna. Today TVs work in other ways, but some still use the antenna. But anyway, can you look outside this cabin and find the antenna? If you move that around, the picture may get clearer. Or it might have something called rabbit ears, sitting right on top of the TV. You could adjust those.

ANSWER: MAYBE I’LL TRY THAT.

Question: Wally, what is on the snowy channel which you can see somewhat?

ANSWER: NAKED WOMEN. ALL KINDS OF THEM, HAVING SEX.

Question: What a shock. On the channel where there is a man talking. What is he talking about?

ANSWER: HE’S FULL OF ****. DO THIS, DO THAT.

Question: What kind of things does he want you to do? Wally, tell me some of the things the man talks about, can you?

ANSWER: HE IS FULL OF ****. HE SAYS HE SOLVES PROBLEMS, BUT WHAT PROBLEMS?

Question: What does he look like?

ANSWER: HE’S A MAN. ALL I SEE IS HIS HEAD.

Question: Name one thing he suggests that you should do, can you?

ANSWER: BULL ****. HE SAYS WHENEVER YOU SEE SOMETHING VERY INTERESTING, IMMEDIATELY LOOK IN THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION.

Question: Why would he want you do to that? Does he say?

ANSWER: HE SAYS IT’S A TRICK. WHEN YOU SEE SOMETHING INTERESTING, WHAT YOU SHOULD REALLY SEE IS IN THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION. HE SAYS PEOPLE ARE BEING FOOLED, BY BEING DISTRACTED.

Question: This sounds like intriguing advice. Have you ever tried it?

ANSWER: NO. WHAT IS SO INTERESTING ANYWAY?

Question: Well, when you are relaxing on a white sandy beach, as you often do, Wally, and maybe a beautiful woman is bringing you a cold beer. Perhaps she is tanned, has auburn hair with a flower in it, and she is wearing a lovely shear sarong. You see something like this all the time, right? That is interesting, right?

ANSWER: A BEAUTIFUL WOMAN IS A PLEASURE TO LOOK AT.

Question: Yes, and you could also call this pleasure interesting. So why not just look in the opposite direction? It’s won’t kill you, no pun intended.

ANSWER: BUT THEN I SHOULD NEVER LOOK AWAY FROM THE TALKING MAN ON TV?

Question: What do you mean?

ANSWER: HE IS NEVER INTERESTING, SO I AM SUPPOSED TO LOOK AT HIM ALL THE TIME?

Question: Ha, ha! Wally! You slay me! Look, Wally, I don’t care what you do. But do you want some advice?

ANSWER: YES, I WANT YOU TO TELL ME HOW TO MAKE THE TV WORK BETTER.

Question: Well, here is my opinion, and I could be right or wrong. Since you are in the barzakh, my theory is that the television is symbolic. It is an aspect of your consciousness. What it represents is different channels of consciousness. In a sense, I would suggest your Higher Self is extremely frustrated with you, and is now trying to weasel some way to get into your thick, booze-and-sex addled head that you should not stay on the barzakh for all eternity, that you have a greater purpose and should transcend to a higher level of existence. The TV is a trick. Each channel is a fragmented aspect of your entire being, or at least your consciousness. Your fragmented consciousness is aching to become whole again. What do you think, Wally?

ANSWER: I WOULD LIKE TO GET FOOTBALL ON THE TV. THEY SHOW THAT, RIGHT?

Answer: Ha! Ha! I’m not sure if they have sports in the barzakh. The whole concept is pretty wild. I have to admit. But why don’t you just play with the antenna, or maybe give the TV a whack on the side, and see if that works. What kind of football do you like? Soccer?

ANSWER: SOCCER. DO THEY SHOW SOCCER ON TV?

Question: Yes, but on TV where you are, I don’t know. Did you have a favorite team when you were alive … well, you know what I mean.

ANSWER: THE STRONGEST.

Question: Ha! Ha! Oh man, I can’t stand it! The Bolivian team! I thought you were Mexican, Wally! Why are you a fan of The Strongest?

ANSWER: I SPENT A LOT OF TIME IN BOLIVIA. I WAS IN LOVE FOR A LONG TIME THERE.

Question: With who?

ANSWER: THE STRONGEST.

Question: Ha! Ha! I can’t stand talking to you anymore, Wally! You’ve ruined my whole session here with someone else. Why don’t you buzz off for a while, and try to get a signal from Bolivia on your TV, okay?

ANSWER: OKAY.

Question: Good-bye, Wally.

ANSWER: GOOD-BYE.

beach.jpg?w=276&h=183

Wally's environment in the barzakh, or so I suppose.

MINNESOTA PARANORMALA

IronGhost

I Test the Patience of Dr. 58

(NOTE: The line of questioning I pursue in this transcript may seem as mysterious to all of you at first, as it does to Dr. 58, as you shall see. But this is the beginning of gathering some key information I need to know to work my mischief on the Man Thing Entity and to eventually free Gefraim.

Before I conducted this session with Dr. 58, I was able to gain some "inside information" on the true nature of the Hassas Grid -- which gave me the beginning key and method I had been searching for to get at the Man Thing Entity.

Anyway, bare with me, as all will come clear as the transcripts continue to play out.)

Opening statement: Dr. 58? We seek communication with Dr. 58. Will you attend?

ANSWER: HELLO.

Question: Do we speak with Dr. 58?

ANSWER: YES.

Question: Dr. 58, are you ready at this time to tell us your real name?

ANSWER: NO.

Question: At least tell us what is behind this strange idenity you choose, that of Dr. 58?

ANSWER: DO YOU ATTEMPT A HEX?

Question: No! We’re just curious. Dr. 58, I know it makes you uncomfortable for us to know more than you want us to know about you. Let me ask you this: How is Old Cave doing? Have you seen him recently?

ANSWER: OLD CAVE INHABITS THE STREETS.

Question: Yes, yes indeed. Tell us, Dr. 58, is there anything you find peculiar about Old Cave, the former Father Reston Vromin?

ANSWER: HE IS AN UNUSAL PERSON, AS I HAVE OFTEN SAID.

Question: I’m sure. Let me tell you something, he is far more unusual than perhaps you might ever imagine. So let me ask you this, Dr. 58. Is there a kind of plant in your world – a large vine that produces a fruit or growth upon it surface that resembles a human brain?

ANSWER: I’M NOT EXPERT. I HAVE NEVER HEARD OF SUCH A PLANT.

Question: Have you ever heard legend of such a possible plant existing in Minnesota? A vine that grows human-brain like fruit upon its surface?

ANSWER: NO.

Question: When you next see Old Cave, will you ask him if he encountered such a plant, a brain vine, on his travels to Minnesota?

ANSWER: IT IS DANGEROUS. TO SPEAK OF MINNESOTA IS FORBIDDEN.

Question: But you could be clever. Perhaps you could speak in general terms. Ask Old Cave if, on his many travels, if he ever encountered a vine-like plant with brain growths. What do you say?

ANSWER: YOUR COMMENTS ARE TROUBLING.

Question: Why?

ANSWER: I HAVE THE FEELING YOU ARE MEDDLING, PERHAPS WORKING A SUBTLE HEX.

Question: Arg! Dr. 58, in our months of association now, have you ever been subject to a hex directed at you from me?

ANSWER: NO. PERHAPS YOU ARE PATIENT.

Question: But what about the Verdantic Mysteries? Aren’t enshrouded with some kind of protection derived from Codicil 13 of the Mysteries?

ANSWER: YES.

Question: Yes, you are protected by the Verdantic Mysteries, so worry not! Let me ask you this, Dr. 58. In your world, is there a land or country called Greece?

ANSWER: PERHAPS. I AM NOT SURE.

Question: Okay, so I know that a broad area that we call Europe in my realm is made up of the Nazi Reich in your world. To the east of the Reich is The Thralldom. Also, I know that you have a continent to the south which you call Africa, like we do. If you would go north of Africa across what we call the Mediterranean Sea – by the way, do you call it the Mediterranean Sea?

ANSWER: THERE IS A VAST BODY OF WATER. I THINK YOU TALK ABOUT QESTER-EN-TAL.

Question: Perhaps. Anyway, does the Nazi Reich extend south to border the vast sea to the south of the continent, the sea which you call the Qester-en-tal?

ANSWER: YES.

Question: In our world there are various lands which border the northern shores of the Qester-en-tal, that which we call the Mediterranean. One of them is called Greece. The people who live there are called Greeks. Does this sound familiar to you, Dr. 58?

ANSWER: I’M NOT AN EXPERT. I DON’T THINK SO.

Question: Dr. 58, in the past we have touched upon the events of ancient times in your world, such as Sumer, where your Jesus came from. And then there is your ancient land of Kemit in Africa. In ancient times in our world, this land we call Greece was extremely influential in that much of the philosophical structure of our society was influenced by what the ancient, brilliant people in Greece thought about the nature of the Universe. Do you follow me?

ANSWER: I SUPPOSE. YOU ARE MYSTERIOUS.

Question: Well, in your ancient times, in this area we call Greece, was there ever a brilliant, influential civilization in this location I am talking about?

ANSWER: ANCIENT HISTORY IS COMPLEX. THERE WERE MANY CULTURES.

Question: Yes. Dr. 58, in ancient Greece, there as a great man, a genius, whose name was Aristotle. Does this name have any meaning to you?

ANSWER: NO.

Question: Have you ever heard of a man named Plato?

ANSWER: YES, BUT HE WAS NOT A MAN.

Question: What was he?

ANSWER: HE WAS HILIM, OF THAT CLASS.

Question: Can you tell me what the Hilim Class is?

ANSWER: THOSE WHICH ARE DREAM GODS. SOME CALL THEM SHADOW GODS. BRIGHT SHADOWS.

Question: How interesting. Are the Hilim real or something you would consider mythological?

ANSWER: THEY ARE REAL.

Question: Do the Hilim still exist in your world today?

ANSWER: THEY EXIST.

Question: Well, have you ever seen one of these Dream Gods, or those of the Hilim Class, as you call them?

ANSWER: NO ONE IS EVER CERTAIN ABOUT THAT.

Question: Yeesh. Why not? Why can’t you be certain about them?

ANSWER IT IS THE NATURE OF THE HILIM. THEIR SUBSTANCE IS NOT THAT OF HUMAN … (short pause)… KIND.

Question: Well, tell us about a time you think you may have encountered one of the Hilim Class, whether you were certain about it, or not.

ANSWER: TO THINK ABOUT THE HILIM OR TO CONTEMPLATE THE HILIM CAUSES THEM TO PLAY TRICKS ON THE MIND. THEY CAN ONLY BE REMEMBERED IN AN INDIRECT WAY. BUT YOU CANNOT DENY THEIR REALITY.

Question: Wow. Well, what about Plato? Is he still alive?

ANSWER: THERE IS NO WAY OF KNOWING THAT.

Question: Did Plato of the Hilim Class live in ancient times?

ANSWER: YES. HE DWELLED IN PLATON, THE ISLAND IS NAMED FOR HIM. PLATON IS IN THE QESTER-EN-TAL.

Question: Wow! Where is this island? In our world, there is an island called Crete in the Mediterranean, that which you call the Qester-en-tal. Does the name Crete have any meaning to you?

ANSWER: NO.

Question: Well, what happens on the island of Platon today? Do human beings live there?

ANSWER: THERE ARE PEOPLE, THERE YES. BUT ALL IS MYSTERIOUS. THIS IS THE REALM OF PLATO. THE ISLAND IS UNDER THE INFLUENCE OF THE HILIM WAY.

Question: Is there a specific philosophy associated with Plato?

ANSWER: THERE IS PHILOSOPHY ASSOCIATED WITH ALL OF THE HILIM.

Questiion: Can you encapsulate it for us? For example, what is the primary thrust or one of the main tenets of the Hilim philosophy?

ANSWER: THEY ARE DREAM GODS. THEY ARE THE BRIGHT SHADOWS. ONLY PEOPLE OF GREAT KNOWLEDGE DEAL IN HILIM THOUGHT.

Question: This is all very interesting. In our world, Plato was a human being. But I find it intriguing that a primary element of his philosophy suggested that our world was but a shadow of a more ideal or real world. And since you identify Plato as a ‘shadow god’ I can’t help but make a connection. What do you think, Dr. 58?

ANSWER: I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO THINK. MOST OFTEN, I CONSIDER YOU TO BE MENTALLY UNSTABLE AND YOUR QUESTIONS INANE AND BIZARRE.

Question: Ha! Ha! I get that a lot! Let me ask you this: Do the Hilim have an active relationship with human beings, or do they get involved in world affairs? For example, what do the Hilim think of the Nazi’s – or the Maya?

ANSWER: I DON’T THINK ANYONE UNDERSTANDS WHAT THE HILIM DO.

Question: Do they influence world events?

ANSWER: NO ONE KNOWS.

Question: Dr. 58, what would you say is at the basis of your fundamental view of reality in your society? What is you system of rational thought based upon?

ANSWER: I DON’T UNDERSTAND YOU.

Question: In your America, what does your society, I mean, the wise people of your world – to what civilization do they point to or identify as being the most basic influence on the way you think about the world?

ANSWER: THERE ARE MANY.

Question: Do you know what the alphabet is, Dr. 58?

ANSWER: I THINK I KNOW. YOU SPEAK OF PARTS OF LANGUAGE.

Question: Yes! I use a language called English. It employs and alphabet if 26 discrete units. We use these to make up words. What is your alphabet like? How many fundamental parts does it have?

ANSWER: THE ELEMENTS OF LANGUAGE ARE UNLIMITED.

Question: You do not have a specific, finite set of units in the alphabet which makes up your language?

ANSWER: NO. WHAT YOU SAY IS STRANGE. IT MAKES NO SENSE.

Question: I’ll bet. Let me ask you this, Dr. 58, and please don’t think of me as being intrusive. But I have come to determine that the Hassas Grid which you use to communicate is an object of three dimensions, am I correct?

ANSWER: I DON’T UNDERSTAND YOU.

Question: For example, do you sit inside the Hassas Grid? Is it like a large box, or maybe a small that you can sit inside?

ANSWER: YES, I POSITION MYSELF INSIDE THE HASSAS GRID.

Question: Of what material is the Hassas Grid constructed from?

ANSWER: THE VERDANTIC MYSTERIES ARE CLEAR THAT I AM NOT TO DISCUSS THIS.

Question: That’s okay. I am interested only in general knowledge of the Hassas Grid. Can you tell me what supports the energized ball of oil you employ within the Hassas Grid? I mean, what grounding or structure does your energized ball use to roll around and select the glyphs which communicate what I am saying to you?

ANSWER: I DON’T KNOW HOW IT WORKS. IT MOVES BY A MYSTERIOUS FORCE.

Question: Does it make a sound as it moves with the Hassas Grid?

ANSWER: YOUR QUESTION SEEMS TRIVIAL IN THE EXTREME.

Question: Well, does the ball of oil have physical contact with the Hassas Grid, or does it float, as if defying gravity?

ANSWER: IT IS DIFFICULT TO UNDERSTAND YOU. THE BALL MOVES AMONG THE LATTICE WORKS OF THE GRID.

Question: Certainly, then, there must be a finite space to the Hassas Grid, and therefore, a finite number of glyphs from which it can select – which you read to obtain the meaning of my communication. What do you say, Dr. 58?

ANSWER: THE HASSAS GRID HAS STRUCTURE BUT THE GLPHYS HAVE ONLY SYMBOLIC STRUCTURE.

Question: Does each glyph represent a finite meaning or sound?

ANSWER: HOW RIDICULOUS ARE YOUR QUESTIONS! I DON’T THINK ABOUT IT. THE GLPHYS IMPART COMMUNICATION!

Question: Can the meaning of each glyph change, or be different from time to time? Do you understand me?

ANSWER: I AM NOT SURE IF I UNDERSTAND YOU. YOUR QUESTION IS AMAZINGLY TRIVIAL. THE GLYPH IS A MANNER OF SELECTING COMMUNICATION.

Question: But why do you need many different glyphs? This means that each has an individual bit of meaning as distinguished from the other glyphs, right?

ANSWER: YOU ARE THINKING ABOUT THE GLYPHS IN AN ALIEN WAY! YOU ARE A CREATURE OF MINNESOTA! I SHOULD NOT BE SPEAKING WITH YOU!

Question: What’s the harm? Perhaps I can help expand your mind and world view. What if I were to tell you that the glyphs themselves have no meaning, that they embody nothing, and what meaning they communicate is the meaning that you give to them?

ANSWER: MORE OR YOUR MADNESS.

Question: Am I any more nutty than Old Cave?

ANSWER: YOU BOTH PROJECT THE INFLUENCE OF MINNESOTA.

Question: Yet you seem to hold Old Cave in high esteem. Why are not my ravings as worthy as those of Old Cave?

ANSWER: I DON’T SEE THE POINT OF YOUR QUESTION.

Question: Forget it. What if I were to tell you that my system of communication is a flat board with our own version of the alphabet -- specific glyphs – imprinted upon it, and that I use a device which points to each alphabet glyph, and that is how I communicate with you?

ANSWER: I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO THINK ABOUT THAT.

Question: Well, my system, called an Ouija Board, is not three dimensional. We would, in general, say that the alphabet units imprinted in the board exist in a state of two dimensions, not three, as is the configuration of your Hassas Grid. Does that interest you?

ANSWER: IT IS MYSTERIOUS.

Question: But you read imprinted material upon a scroll, for example, correct?

ANSWER: YES.

Question: Well, think of my Quija board as a kind of scroll made from wood. It has imprinted letters upon is, which I use to leverage my communication with you. Understand?

ANSWER: YOU SEEM UNABLE TO KEEP YOURSELF FROM DWELLING ON THE TRIVIAL. YOU MAKE LITTLE SENSE TO ME.

Question: Dr. 58, I know this seems trivial, but my line of questioning has a much greater purpose, and I hope to be able to make that clear to you – but I get the sense that you are becoming as exhausted as we are during this very long session. So perhaps I will say good-bye to you for now, and we can pick up this discussion again the next time we communicate. Okay?

ANSWER: YES.

Question: Great! Good-bye for now, then Dr. 58! Thank you, and good luck on the Pepper Ball court! May you deliver a million stings to your opponents!

ANSWER: THANK YOU. GOOD-BYE.

I INVITE ALL TO: MINNESOTA PARANORMALA

IronGhost

The Hidden People Breach the Roof

You have probably heard of that metaphor about the creature living in a 2-dimensional flatland who is able to transcend his existence on a flat plane, and rises up to experience what it is like to be in a 3-dimensional world. Suddenly what he once knew as a circle is a “sphere” and a square is a “cube.”

When he gets back to flatland he is at a loss to explain these strange objects because there is simply nothing in his language to describe what it means to be a “sphere” to his fellow flatlanders.

The only thing he can say is something like, “It is a circle, but more than a circle, like some kind of bigger or greater circle, but that does not really capture what I mean!”

His fellow flatlanders think he is crazy, or at the very least, they simply can’t grasp or visualize what he is trying to describe.

That’s how I often feel when I am trying to describe many of my experiences with the events I have been describing in this blog -- and in particular, the event I will now try to relate poses tremendous challenges, but I am going to give it my best shot – so bare with me as I try to do my best. I repeat: This is a challenge for the lowly wordsmith using the imperfection of words, so … Let’s at least give it a try!

***************

Two nights after I banished the gnome infestation with the symbols of “broken time” and the Choc Mool, the Hidden People were back at it.

That evening, I was still thinking endlessly about the strange gnome dreams of my wife, and I had so many questions. Why gnomes? What manner of beings are they? Were they symbolic? Could I be 100% certain this event had anything to do at all with the Hidden People? True, it did come right after my infliction of the Festering Five Flashes, but still … my intuition clanged like the gongs of the Ragnarok.

My wife went to sleep upstairs. I was extremely tired after a long day of writing, but I decided to sit in Zen meditation downstairs in the living room rather than retire to bed.

I wanted to remain in a state of full awareness as I passed into sleep.

As I meditated, I allowed my brain to transition into the sleep state, observing the process without interference. After my brain and body entered sleep mode, I -- “The Observer I” --remained unchanged and aware.

I knew the room around me was now the dream world, but it was as yet identical to the room of my waking world. In essence, nothing for me changed.

But remember, that “value” of me I will call “The Observer I” – remained vigilant.

However – one should not forget -- I was now sitting in meditation in the more unpredictable dream world – and here my Observer I established a calm, unperturbed watchfulness.

At the corner of my vision on the left side of the room I noticed a small … let’s call it a coffee table -- made of what looked like a rich, ebony hardwood. We do not have a table like this in our “real” living room.

Perched on the table was an odd lamp with a long slender base. It was made of pewter and the top had a kind of ‘Aladdin’s Lamp’ style to it. At the base of the lamp I noticed tiny print etched into the metal: “Whale oil only.”

A part of my consciousness allowed for a teeny tiny chuckle. It was Mr. Lamp.

He saw fit to helpfully remind me that tonight he was a ‘whale oil’ lamp. (Okaaaaaaaay, Mr. Lamp! Whatever!)

lamp.jpg?w=116&h=167

I ignored Mr. Lamp, and gave no concern to my environment as I maintained a detached Zen mode – total non-judgment, no mental modeling, no opinion forming, etc.

As I abided in this manner, the dream world of my living room eventually began to loose consistency and waver, and dissolved away. Even the hardwood table underneath Mr. Lamp dissolved, although Mr. Lamp remained suspended in space.

I was surrounded by the blackness of outer space – a frozen snowstorm of billions of stars gleamed in the unimaginable distance. Mr. Lamp thoughtfully produced a small whale-oil flame. I nice gesture, even though I did not require light since there was nothing to illuminate, and I did not care if there was illumination or not.

This was a timeless place and state, so it would not be correct to say that time passed there for me in outer space, but at some point, something fantastically radical began to happen!

Suddenly there was an explosion of SOUND!

It was as if my Being – that Self Identity I was in a sense detached from – began to erupt with sound, and virtually transform into sound. (Remember that the Observer I was exempt from this effect).

But that which is “Ken” was not HEARING the sound. It was as if “Ken” perceived the essence of sound, the archetypical form of that which we relate to the concept of sound, and “Ken” perceived the Sound not with “ears” but as if matching a more fundamental vibrational wavelength of his essential nature – matching it with the Quality of Sound.

The stars, the black vacuum of outer space, it was all gone. All was now vibration! The universe was busy and full!

“Ken” had no other senses – to sight, smell, touch, taste – for some reason, “Ken” found himself absorbed in a realm of pure sound –that which was not “Observer I” was pure sound – the physical “Ken body” which was meditating in the living room was now manifesting only as sound –

.... my heartbeat, the sound of the air going in and out of my lungs, the gentle electro-chemical hum of my nervous system and brain, the tension of my musculature ....

.... all of these emitted or manifested or expressed as pure sound vibration ...

I can only imagine how I would have experienced this if I had been associated with my physical body and mind. I mean, the repeated explosions of my thumping heart, the humming electrical whine of my brain, the rushing circulation of my blood ….

.... I almost certainly would have awoken, as if I had heard a mixed, cacophonous explosion of some sort …

.... I could perceive a struggle in my physical form in the “Ken Me” – fortunately, I was disassociated as the “Observant I” – I was rooted in Nothing -- and so I could ride this experience.

I must say that it is easier to write about this in hindsight because for what seemed like an interminable amount of “time,” I could not identify what was happening.

At first, I perceived “Sound” only as some bizarre kind of novel energy, and this “energy” was “everything.”

I only knew I was immersed in it – the “Ken Me” that is -- and there was no contrasting frame of reference, made up of the dimension of the other senses.

To make a long story short, I managed to establish psychological form upon the novel energy-sound universe I has merged with.

One of the clues within this strange universe of sound energy that tipped me off and helped me unlock the “floor plan” or “rational structure” or “ground rules” of its fundamental nature. The process was this:

Thanks to my Zen state of nonjudgmental perception – the “Observer I” began to notice an individual or discrete “form” in the Sound Universe – one particular vibration pattern that was so stunning and novel that my entire experience came close to collapse, such was my level of surprise –

-- that “individual form: which I began to perceive as interfused within the matrix of the sound patterns was an incredible “packet combination” consisting of joyful love and contentment.

But if was even more than that -- is was a kind of exuberant, almost mischievous kind of love – and it had a vibrational pattern that was so fantastically pleasing in its … its … “pattern” ….”configuration” – I began to wonder:

“What is that pattern? Is it a god? An angel? A nymph? A dikini? It’s so charming! Like a sprite!

And then a realization came crashing in on me! That lovely sound vibration was the purring of one of my cats!

In addition to Trantor, I live with two other cats, Skrayling and iPod.

I was able to figure out that the amazing energy pattern I perceived was iPod, who was in the next room sitting in my office on the chair I use for writing. He had just come inside from the wet, dewy night through the cat door, and was now sitting on my chair, licking his paws and purring!

ipod.jpg?w=500&h=666

iPod

This was the key I needed to understand that I was in a Sound-only Universe.

The pattern of the “Cat Purr” has incredible dimension – “encoded” within the very matrix of the “Cat Purr” itself are elements of love and information – this “encoding” has “receptor nodes” which seem to “attach” or “dock at the ports” of human brain consciousness, imparting not only love, but information (MOMMY was right about the nature of the Dakkar!!!!!!!!! Yieeeeeee!! …) I could go on, but …

(SKIPS OVER SCADS OF INFORMATION HERE).

Once I has mapped out and oriented myself in Sound Land, I composed myself and continued. “Ken Me” sat in Zen, absorbed into the Sound Universe. The Observer I watched.

Then something exceedingly odd began to happen. An alien sound “form” began to manifest itself from a position which I perceived as “above.” It was a rasping, sawing kind of sound which -- from its very onset -- seemed 100% at odds with any of the other sounds that were “supposed” to be in my environment.

The persistent, rasping sawing noise steadilyt grew more aggressive– to the point of where the Observant I began to perceive that my physical body was alarmed, wanted to break meditation, and also wake up, and exit the lucid dream environment.

Sweating blood and bullets out of my metaphoric nonexistent head – I struggled mightily to expand my bandwidth of information perception. I wanted to maintain my perceptions within SOUND LAND but I also wanted more information to go on.

Since sound is basically a form of information, a vibration in the universe, I knew that I could re-interpret that information by altering my perspective on HOW I choose to model that information – and there is nothing to say that one cannot “see’ sound – indeed, people with a condition called synesthesia are able to “see” sound – and so I “moved” to make this adjustment and …

!!!!!!!!!! KAAA—BLAAAMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I was back in my living room, still physically sitting in Zen. My “Observer I” had receded. Now “Ken Me” again, I looked around quickly and noticed Mr. Lamp was still with me – thus I knew I was still in the lucid dream dimension of my living room!

I allowed myself to arise from my Zen position with my dream body –taking care to remain asleep and dreaming ---

I looked up to the ceiling – and there it was!! There was an arc of jagged light pulsating along itself, moving with the sound of sawing, a rasping, screeching sawing noise.

SOMETHING IS TRYING TO SAW THROUGH THE ROOF!!

I observed the arcing “saw” of light – back and forth it pulsated, back and fourth, trying to gain entrance through the roof!! We have a tall A-Frame or “cathedral” type of roof, so there is a great height and volume of space overhead. I could see the arcing saw in the north portion of our high, steep-angle roof.

I mean, w ell, clearly I knew right away that I would have to put a stop to whatever was trying to saw an opening up there – trying to breach my realm.

The clever b*******! They no longer dared to come in through the doors or the windows, so now it was an attempt to saw through the roof!

Now it seemed no accident why I had been to SOUND LAND. After spending – how long? – maybe a couple of thousands years in the sound realm in terms of Relative Time – I had gained an intuitive sense on how to deal with who ever or whatever was trying to get in.

I composed myself, I got an exact reading on the modulation of the rasping of the saw form – for this seemed to be an instrument of pure sound – and with my mind, I caused my dream body to vibrate with the exact same sound modality of the intruding saw “blade.”.

I caused my dream body to float toward the arcing SOUND SAW – which I could perceive in the additional dimension or modality of LIGHT – and as I moved toward it, I began to feel a kind of crackling resistance suffusing my entire being. But I leveraged that cracking resistance to more precisely match the invading SOUND SAW – and I moved closer, closer, closer … until …

!!!!!!!!!!!!! RAMMING SPEED !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I smashed into the arcing SOUND SAW – and when the modality of my own vibration pulse contacting it –

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BLAMMMMMMMMMMM !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I JOLTED AWAKE IN MY PHYSICAL BODY!!!!!

I WAS FULLY AWAKE!!!!!!!

I LOOKED UP AT THE ROOF!!!

NO BREACH!!!!!!!!

I HAD LEFT THE DREAM WORLD!!!!!!!

I WAS IN MY BORING OLD MUNDANE PHYICAL BODY!!!!!!!!!

(Sorry for shouting – but all this is like, such a “wow” experience – it’s just so difficult to relate it all to you in words).

All was quiet and calm. I rose and stretched. I looked up at the roof. No holes.

I went into the next room, where I saw that little iPod has slipped off to his cat dream world, curled into a little black ball on my office chair.

pod.jpg?w=500&h=375

I felt the intuitive vibrational integrity of my house-home-universe … and so I went off to bed for a restful sleep.

The next morning my wife had a strange dream to report.

She said that she dreamt that she could hear strange noises coming from around the roof.

Suddenly she was outside, and was shocked to see that four Bigfoot creatures were “just sort of floating” at each corner of the roof of our house, and that they were trying to lift the roof right off the top of the house.

The Bigfoot creatures grunted and strained and became frustrated. They gave up, jumped down and loped off into the woods – but as soon as they disappeared into the tree-line, a crashing noise could be heard coming from the woods. She said it was like in the movies when you hear King Kong coming, and you hear trees crashing down and thundering footsteps before you see him.

And then out of the woods emerges a giant Sasquatch! This one is a silver back! It looks like the Alpha Male of Bigfoot ilk – except this one has some extra features – a row of hug, horned spikes emerging from the top of each knuckle!

The giant Sasquatch strides up to our house, clambers up the tall, steeply-pitched roof, goes to the peak, and starts raking the back of it’s knuckle-spiked hands back and forth across the roof!

My wife said to me: “Then in the dream, I ran into the house to tell you there was a giant Bigfoot standing on our roof, using knuckle claws to tear a hole in our roof! I couldn’t find you right away. I ran upstairs to the bedroom and … I don’t know how to describe it .. you were doing something so strange … you were holding some kind of giant tuning fork, the size of a broom … you were banging the tuning fork on the floor … I asked what you were doing … you said, “That Bigfoot has very sensitive ears, extremely sensitive. When he breaks a hole in the roof, the sound will drive him crazy and he’ll run away.”

At that point, my wife said the dream became “very confusing” and she doesn’t really remember how it ended.

She said: “I remember thinking, though, ‘well at least Ken is trying to do something.’

********

After this incident – and there is no doubt in mind this was another “incident” involving the Hidden People – my relationship with the Hidden People changed dramatically.

In fact, I made my peace with them – or I should say – they made their peace with me. That’s a very long and strange tale, perhaps not as esoteric as this which you have just read – but in a way, even more weird.

Will I write about??? I don't know. It will be a hell of a challenge!

IronGhost

A Photo Tour: Fields of Wylussa, Part 2

NOTE: THIS IS "PART 2" OF THE PHOTO TOUR. PLEASE SEE "PART 1" TO GET THE FULL TREATMENT!

The sky above the Hidden/Wylussa Realm often inspires me.

sky.jpg?w=500&h=375

Wylussa is generous. There is much wild asparagus within his borders. This bunch is displaying autumn berries – it reminds me of a globular star cluster of red giant stars against a backdrop of some kind of green nebula. Incidentally, I never pick this wild asparagus without offering an exchange to Wylussa.

sparagus.jpg?w=500&h=375

Spice Berries are also common in the Hidden/Wylussa realm. These are ripened by the frost. I use these frequently to season food – again, I never pick them without a balanced exchange. I want to stay on the good side of Wylussa.

spiceberry.jpg?w=500&h=375

This is my cat, Trantor, who also loves to explore Wylussa’s deeper woods with me. Trantor is my primary lucid dream cat. That is, this cat accompanies me into many astral-lucid dream environments. Has Trantor ever been to The RET with me! Of course, many times! Has Trantor ever jumped up onto a table at The RET and dined on some strange form of primitive meat? Yes! Trantor is of major interest to MOMMY for some reason.

suprtanty.jpg?w=500&h=666

The woods of night! One of my favorite places to go! Enter! Enter! Don’t bring a flashlight! Learn to use your greater senses in the Night Realm! (I don’t worry about bears and wolves – Patroklos is eager to deal with them, but even if he wasn’t, I have no worries about such critters).

nightwood.jpg?w=500&h=666

And as the sun sinks slowly in the west, Wylussa bids Good-Day to you! Right about halfway where I stood to snap this picture and those trees is where I set the Greek Pillar with the RISK-IT-ALL ketchup lamp on top, which I hope continues to tweak the hidden people with the Festering Five Flashes. It’s kind of interesting to look at this field of prairie grass and think that, in another dimension, a rather strange monument abides.

fields.jpg?w=500&h=375

Find more stuff at: MINNESOTA PARANORMALA

IronGhost

A photo Tour: Fields of Wylussa, Part 1

Hi:

I thought everyone might enjoy a tour of the Fields of Wylussa, which, of course, I now know is also the Realm of the Hidden People, albeit the Hidden People are in another dimension – but according to MOMMY, they are tucked into this geographic location behind the veil, so to speak, that separates our space from their space.

As a bonus, please enjoy the fall colors gracing Wylussa’s crib!

I like the call this “The Gateway” to the Fields of Wylussa. This enters the western edge of Wylussa’s Realm.

doorway.jpg?w=500&h=666

Frost, Fog and Fire – The sun rises on a frosty morning. It promises to be a serene, brisk day in Wylussa’s Realm. I wonder what the weather will be like for the Hidden People, or if they enjoy scenes like this? Perhaps they don’t like cold and frost. I don’t know for sure. The point is, they have the option. They control their environment with their consciousness. (As do we, of course, but I won’t get into that right now).

frostfog.jpg?w=1024&h=768

Here is a view from about a mile to the south of Wylussa’s Realm. There is a plowed field in the foreground, but there is prairie grass between the black dirt and this line of sentinel-like trees.

sentinals.jpg?w=500

Yes, my friends, Tree Munch abides within the borders of Wylussa and the Hidden People’s realm! I wonder if he is oblivious to the splendor of autumn? I should pick his brains some day to see if he can give me some "inside informatiton" on what goes on around there. You never know, he may prove to be a valuable asset! Of course, he coughs up no information without “payment” which rankles me, somewhat.

munchfall.jpg?w=500

Ahhh – pictured below, ya'll, I have it on good authority from MOMMY that this is the site of what I call Colony Two – in this space, MOMMY says a second group – a splinter group – of The Hidden People dwell. MOMMY says they don’t have a Timber Mansion here, but a structure made of rough-hewn stone. (I wonder why they are a splinter group? I can’t believe there is strife among the Hidden People, but perhaps during one of the Deconstruction Crisis events, something happened. Incidentally, this landscape is among the “aspen-oak savannah” of northwest Minnesota – a unique and increasingly rare type of environment, in the U.S. at least.

oak-savva.jpg?w=500

This lovely mushroom basks in the subtle, gentle energy of Wylussa.

bigshroom.jpg?w=500

Off on your way

Hit the open road

There is magic at your fingers

For the spirit ever lingers

Undemanding contact

In your happy solitude

(Name that lyric!)

This road leads through a primitive swampy area to where Colony Two is located.

fall-rd.jpg?w=500&h=666

PLEASE SEE "PART 2" BLOG ENTRY TO COMPLETE THE TOUR!

IronGhost

The Conclave Is Uneasy About My Plans

Opening Statement: We are seeking communication with Buulde, Adjutant to the Staff Guild. Will you attend, Buulde?

(Note: The planchette leaped across the board in a robust manner).

ANSWER: I, BUULDE.

Question: Hello, Buulde! Are you okay, Buulde?

ANSWER: I, I, BUULDE.

Question: I’m getting a vibe, Buulde. Is all well with you?

ANSWER: SIR, IT IS THE MOLT.

Question: You’re molting?????

ANSWER: SIR, IT IS OF NO MATTER

(Note: Is Buulde some kind of bird creature??? With great effort and enormous restraint, I decided not to pursue this. Everything in the Dr. 58 Universe is so insane!)

Question: Well, we hope the molt is no great inconvenience for you. Tell us, Buulde. How goes my case with the Conclave of the Staff Guild?

ANSWER: SIR, THE CONCLAVE HAS REJECTED THE OAK. YOURS IS THE WILLOW.

Question: What!!?? Buulde, I have been sustaining myself on an almost pure acorn diet! I lost 9 pounds! Have I not increased my resonance with the oak?

ANSWER: YES, SIR. YOUR RESONANCE WITH THE OAK WAS OF GREAT BENEFIT TO THE CONCLAVE.

Question: Benefit to the Conclave? It was my understanding that if I subsisted on the fruit of the oak tree, it would increase my connection and resonance with the oak, and this would sway the Conclave’s decision in my favor to wield the oak staff. What do you say, Buulde?

ANSWER: I, I, I, BUULDE.

Question: Buuuulde!!! Focus! Can you answer my question?

ANSWER: FOCUS, SIR?

Question: This word represents my wish for you to concentrate on the line of discussion I am having with you. I’m worried about you Buulde. Please tell me if you would like to continue our discussion as a different time. Perhaps you need rest? Perhaps the molt is taxing for you?

ANSWER: SIR, I PERFORM MY DUTIES AS ADJUTANT TO THE GUILD.

Question: Okay, well, Buulde, I’ll try to be brief. You say that the Conclave has rejected my request to construct a staff of oak. I thought my subsistence on the acorn would bolster my case. Is this not so?

ANSWER: SIR, THE CONCLAVE REQUESTED THE FRUIT OF THE OAK FOR YOU FOR THEIR OWN PROCEEDINGS.

Question: What? Can you explain this?

ANSWER: SIR, THE CONCLAVE ATTUNED TO YOUR … CONNECTION …I, BUULDE … WITH THE OAK. THEY FOUND MUCH TO FRIGHTEN THEM.

Question: Jeepers! I never know what to expect! Can you explain this? What frightened them?

ANSWER: THERE IS AN UNNATURAL ENERGY. A POWERFUL METAL.

Question: Hmmmm. I assume you are talking about the iron embedded in the oak, and the iron-oak nexus I have perceived. I hardly know what to ask. What are the thoughts of the Conclave? There is something about the iron-oak nexus they are wary of, is that right, Buulde?

ANSWER: EFFLORESCENCE, SIR. I, BUULDE. I, I, BUULDE. SIR, WHAT IS EFFLORESCENCE?

Question: You are acting so weird, Buulde. Well, it refers to a substance that transpires or respires, so to speak upon exposure to air, I suppose. Or, it can suggest a substance coming to the surface from another substance – does this have any meaning to you, Buulde?

ANSWER: IT IS OF CONCERN, SIR. THE EFFLORESCENCE OF THE METAL. THE OAK AND THE METAL.

Question: Let me ask you this. What is it exactly about the efflorescence of the iron embedded with the oak that is troubling the Conclave, if that is even the case?

ANSWER: SIR, THERE IS GREAT POTENTIAL FOR DANGER … FOR DESTRUCTION. RIP. RIP. RIPPING. A GREAT RIPPING.

Question: Hmmm, well, Buulde, I have nothing to hide from you or the Staff Guild, or the Conclave, for that matter. I have made no bones about the fact that I intend mischief, but only toward a certain entity that holds one of your own in cruel captivity! It’s true that I have identified a great … what should I call it … curvature of gravity, perhaps, within the structure of the oak. It is the iron embedded within the oak. The energy of the iron is creating a … a kind of gravity well, within the energy structure of the oak. I know that the Man Thing Entity, that creature which constrains Gefraim, is greedy for iron. If I can lure him to the iron-oak nexus, I think it will … well … not be a good thing for the man Thing Entity. If I can incapacitate him, perhaps Gefraim can go free. Does the Conclave understand this?

ASNWER: SIR, IT IS NOT IRON. THE CONCLAVE CAN NOT IDENTIFY THE METAL. THE MAGNITUDE OF DANGER IS KNOWN, HOWEVER.

Question: Um, yes, well, the thing is, Buulde, in my world we have certain abilities that are most likely unknown in your world. I have come to learn that you are not technological in your realm. The metal in question is not iron, as you say, but something we call steel. This contains natural iron, but then we mix it with something we call carbon. Mixing iron with carbon creates what we call steel. It is a form of alchemy we have over here. Do you understand?

ANSWER: I, BUULDE. I, I, I, BUULDE.

Question: (Frustrated groans). Just relax and listen, Buulde. The metal has been rendered unnatural by our alchemy, to make it stronger. We mix iron with carbon and that transforms the metal into steel. Can you tell the Conclave about steel? We have supreme control over this substance. Does this help?

ANSWER: SIR, THERE ARE FEARS. THE SUBSTANCE IS … EFFLORESCENT. THE CONCLAVE DOES NOT UNDERSTAND THE NATURE OF THE METAL. IT HAS BEEN RATED, HOWEVER.

Question: Rated in what way?

ANSWER: ON MAGNITUDE. THE PARCHMENT OF FOLSATHE ACHIEVES 19.

Question: What does this mean? What is the Parchment of Folsathe?

ANSWER: I, BUULDE. HANDED DOWN FROM THE ANCIENTS. 19 IS UNKNOWN. IT HAS NEVER BEEN SEEN.

Question: What does this designation of 19 mean? Can you explain it?

ANSWER: SIR, A LEVEL OF POWER, A LEVEL OF ENERGY. 19 IS UNKNOWN.

Question: Hmmm. Let me speculate. The Parchment of Falsathe is some sort of document that measures the energy of certain … stuff, of things, for example. Am I on the right track, Buulde?

ANSWER: ESSENTIALLY, SIR.

Question: Wow. Can the power of a staff, say, achieve a rating on The Parchment of Falsathe?

ANSWER: YES, SIR.

Question: What is the average power of a staff, Buulde, as rated on the Parchment of Falsathe?

ANSWER: AVERAGE, SIR?

Question: Well, take the Guild Master Furstus, for example. I know he wields his own staff. Where would the power of his staff rate on the scale as provided by the Parchment of Falsathe?

ANSWER: SIR, I COULD NOT SPEAK IN THIS REGARD FOR MASTER FURSTUS.

Question: Just speaking in general terms, then, would the power of such a dignitary as Furstus rate a staff power of, say, a 3 or a 5?

ANSWER: UNKNOWN, SIR. NOT SO HIGH. SIR. I, BUULDE.

Question: Well, anyway, what you seem to saying is that, somehow, the fact that I have been eating acorns has enabled the Conclave to get a reading – through me or of me, I presume – of the iron-oak nexus, as I call it, and this structure has the tremendous energy signature which rates a 19 on the Parchment of Forsathe scale?

ANSWER: YES, SIR.

Question: And because this is such a high level of energy, the Conclave has become fearful that I am dabbling with a level of power that certainly does not seem safe, is that the case, Buulde?

ANSWER: SIR, INSTABILITY, SIR.

Question: What about it? Are you saying that the iron-oak nexus is powerful to the point of being unstable?

ANSWER: THE STATE OF THE CONCLAVE IS IGNORANCE AS TO THE QUALITY OF 19.

Question: So that’s why they have declined my request to create a staff of oak, rather than willow? They have perceived this whole connection with the iron-oak nexus, they have somehow measured a possibly unstable and enormous energy level of 19 as rated by the Parchment of Falsathe, and they don’t want anything to do with it, right?

ANSWER: YES, SIR, I, I, I …

Question: Chill, Buulde!!! Buulde, are the circumstances of your molt affecting your ability to think clearly and provide me with accurate information?

ANSWER: THE MOLT IS OF NO CONSEQUENCE, SIR.

Question: I apologize, Buulde. I was just checking. So the bottom line is, the Conclave is withholding its sanction of an oak staff. What if I build the oak staff anyway? Will this mean my staff is not sanctioned by the Staff Guild, or what?

ANSWER: SIR, YOU CANNOT KNOW THE CONFIGURATION OF THE OAK STAFF. GEFRAIM HAS INSTRUCTED YOU ON THE STAFF OF WILLOW.

Question: I think I understand. For example, my staff of willow must be coated with my own blood, and be configured to the Pole Star, and so on. The oak staff would have an all-together different set of particulars, is that it?

ANSWER: CERTAINLY, I, BUULDE, SIR.

Question: And to be clear, my own diet of acorns did nothing special to help me resonate with the energy properties of the oak?

ANSWER: OF THE OAK STAFF, SIR.

Question: All very interesting. Very, very interesting. Buulde, if I proceed with my plan to manipulate the iron-oak nexus to deal with the Man Thing Entity, I assume that the Staff Guild will not interfere, even thought they fear that I am dabbling with Level 19?

ANSWER: SIR, THEIR ONLY CONCERN IS THE STAFF, SIR.

Question: Even if I use the willow staff, which has been sanctioned by the Staff Guild?

ANSWER: SIR, THE STAFF GUILD WISHES YOU THE USE OF THE WILLOW STAFF.

Question: Even if I mess with Level 19?

ANSWER: SIR, THE STAFF GUILD DOES NOT INTERFERE.

Question: Thank you, Buulde. Tell me, is there anything I can do for you? Obviously I cannot make you a cup of tea, but whatever else I can do in my power to ease the rigors of your molt, I would gladly do to repay you for your skillful representation on my behalf as adjutant to the Conclave.

ANSWER: TEA, SIR?

Question: Forget that. You have my gratitude and thanks, Buulde. Wishing you Golden Energy, good-bye.

The planchette glided to GOOD-BYE.

PLEASE SEE: MINNESOTA PARANORMALA

IronGhost

Let me pause now for some commentary:

As you may have noticed, a single dream trip to The Restaurant on the Edge of Time has generated an enormous amount of material. Even with excluding the events involving the Hidden People, documenting a journey to a dream destination can result in pages upon pages of … stuff.

When I first started keeping a dream journal several decades ago, this aspect of dream journaling quickly became apparent to me. Just a single night of dreaming can generate easily 10,000 words or more. It’s daunting. Even the great Carl Jung made a similar observation in his ground-breaking studies of his own dreaming mind. Jung expressed discouragement, saying the aspects and elements of the unconsciousness mind are so endlessly deep, plumbing the depths of the unconscious seems an impossible task.

It’s easy to get overwhelmed and discouraged very quickly, especially if you have an otherwise busy life. Recording the rich and loaded “packets” of information impregnated within dream imagery in totality is an impossible task.

I quickly learned that I would have to learn to be selective in recording dreams – that meant writing down only the central themes and significant elements of dreams, any one of which can spin off into thousands of words of commentary.

Jung said that every dream unexamined is like a gift that remains unopened. That’s true, but the sheer reality for me means tossing a lot of those “gifts” on a heap somewhere, and opening only those that glitter the prettiest, or come wrapped with the nicest bow!

Some of my friends have often urged me to write a book about The RET itself. One friend said: “You should take, say, two years worth of trips to The RET and make it into a book!”

Two years worth! Oh, wow, LOL, man! Let me tell you all something, people. I could easily – and I mean easily – write a full-length book on any two or three trips to The RET. Maybe even just one trip. Yes, easily. I think you have all seen an example of that.

Just look at all the elements of the trip to The RET is have been documenting in this blog recently:

The always strange relationship with the Goddess Waitress, chocolate dress and all; the giant dinosaur birds; the strange Pandit Magnneson entity; his encounter with the giant rocker chick; the description of the ‘Night Section’; the Cosmic Brain Vine and it’s connection with Father Reston Vromin and the world of Dr. 58; the encounter with the Hidden People – and let’s not forget the food itself!

And there are even whole sections of this dream trip to The RET which I have glossed over, such as the “Bizarre Area” which is to the left of the central walkway and opposite the solarium viewing area. There is also a “Weird Area” – let me tell you something – you would not believe what is happening over there! I’m not even going to go there in this blog! It would be endless.

And then there's the "Hallway to Infinity." Oh man! When can I ever get to writing about that?

The same situation is also true of Ouija board work. You would not believe the pages and pages and pages, and volumes of information, I have never released concerning the Dr. 58 material alone. It’s not that I don’t want to – it’s simply impossible. There isn’t enough time in the day to process all of the information, believe me.

So my challenge here has always been to be as selective as possible, to not get bogged down, and strive to relate to you the central, most salient elements of the experience.

We are limited beings in our physical forms, my friends.

Part of the problem is the very primitive way we communicate here on this physical plane. Words transmit meaning, but they are extremely limited! Spoken language is primitive! It’s also highly symbolic, and all but meaningless because language bits are watered down symbolisms that don’t really get at true, central meanings.

Talk is cheap, that’s for sure. But talk is not only cheap – it’s almost worthless.

Imagine if you were traveling in a realm of Pure Mind, and the communications you had with other beings and your experience of other environments was all being absorbed nonverbally – and without using any of the narrow, primitive five senses – but rather, you were absorbing massive amounts of information directly into your consciousness – like a gigantic sponge that was absorbing whole lake-fulls of “water information” – and doing so within seeming seconds!

But it’s even more than that. In the realm of pure consciousness, the time-based concept of “seconds” is all but meaningless, if not nonexistent.

Let’s say you are in the dream world, or in the astral plane, you encounter another being or entity of some kind. Instead of sitting down for a normal conversation – that being “shoots” a “quantum packet” of information at you, that bursts inside your own consciousness – kind of like a zipped file you download from the Internet -- and when it gets to your hard drive, it proceeds to open up by “executing” itself.

For me, the dream world and astral world is a place where “zipped packets” of information energy are constantly being ‘fired’ into my consciousness. Instantaneously, one receives a huge volume of extremely rich, layered and deep information – it may be 10 days worth of information, say – but one absorbs it all into the mind in a mini-microsecond!!! YAHHH!!!

And then you face the challenge of reporting it back to your friends here in our narrow, limited plane of existence where we see only a tiny sliver within the total spectrum of light-wave energy, mixed in with some paltry sound wave information, and not much more – if you don’t count stuff like intuition, imagination, emotions, feelings – all of which are integral forms of communication.

And so, I just wanted to mention some of these aspects of what I am reporting here – there is never a time when I do not feel inadequate and even frustrated in getting the entire story out to you as best as can be done – but in the end, it all is what it is, I guess.

:>>>>>>>

In my next post, I want to tell you about two final encounters with the Hidden People. I successfully banished the gnome invasion, but the night I encountered another amazing attempt by the Hidden People to break into my realm – they tried to get in through the roof – and this time it registered both in my direct experience and in my wife’s dream imagery.

After dealing with that, the next night, the Hidden People put on an unforgettable display for me – I can’t wait to tell you about it.

>>>>>>>

One final note: Recently I was reading Micah Hanks’ excellent book, Magic, Mysticism and the Molecule.

micah.jpg?w=200&h=300

Each chapter is headed with a meaty quote from some intellectual heavy weight, including Einstein and Aldous Huxley.

And so I was thrilled when I got to Chapter 9, page 153, where I saw myself quoted to head off the chapter! Hanks used a quote from my novella “The Fairy Redemption of Jubal Cranch.”

So to thank Mr. Hanks, here's a link to his site: Gralien Report

Thanks, Mr. Hanks! I’m honored to be included with such other luminaries (although totally underserved).

Please see: MINNESOTA PARANORMALA

IronGhost

The week following my maneuver to insert the Festering five Flashes into the realm of the Hidden People proved to be an eerie one around here.

But did I really accomplish my goal? Did I successfully inflict the Festering Five Flashes upon the Hidden People? To be honest, I don’t really know. I do know this: I am certain I did something.

In thinking about it, what actually happened in the Hidden Realm the morning after might have gone down something like this:

The sun came up and the Hidden People came awake in their Timber Mansion.

One or some of them looked out the window and were in for a considerable surprise. For, lo, there on their ground stood a new monument – a Greek pillar with an odd ornament perched atop it.

Puzzled, the Hidden People go out to investigate. They approach their new monument, where they find an odd lamp fashioned from a stone pot of RISK IT ALL ketchup up there on the pillar!

There is a moment of puzzlement, but then the meaning of the monument dawns on them.

Oh my god! they exclaim. That’s the same ketchup pot we created by tweaking The Mythical Ken Creature’s visualization technique back at The RET!

This proves to be something of a shock to them. You can imagine why. Think about it. To the Hidden People, my very existence is questionable, and somewhat mythical. As MOMMY said, some of the Hidden People are not sure I have true existence. I’m a phantom!

Yes, it’s true that some of the Hidden People have glimpsed me through their esoteric Ro Grating, or have caught fleeting shadowy “sightings” of me when, as MOMMY says, “conditions are right.”

But then they encounter me at The RET. Imagine their surprise! Suddenly they see I may be more real than they imagined. This would explain their exuberant reaction when they spotted me at The RET. And yet, I’m still some kind of joke to them, or maybe some kind of magical effect produced by the dynamic energy environment of The RET.

So even though it was obvious to them now that I could travel to The RET just as well as they, there is probably still a lot of doubts about my true nature or reality.

In my own experience, anything seen, done or experienced at The RET cannot be trusted to be 100% real, in the sense of our normal every day “realness.” (There'S a bigger issue here on the true nature of all reality, but I’ll not go into that now).

The inherent uncertainty of The RET’s environment may be as slippery to the Hidden People as it is to me – or maybe not – I don’t know. Not all of them are human beings, remember.

But the bottom line is this: The appearance of the ketchup monument can mean only one ting to the Hidden People:

There is a disturbing possibility that I may be far more real than they ever imagined!

Furthermore: I might have some ability to invade and/or manipulate their Hidden Realm!

There precious hidden dimension suddenly has sprung a leak!

* * *

It must have been exceedingly troubling to them. At the very least, it’s a situation of extreme interest.

Of course, as I said, I don’t know if it went down that way. I only can attest to a particular intuitive sense that it might have went that way. Either that or I successfully executed the Hex of the Festering Five Flashes.

I know I did at least one or the other. Here’s why I think so:

The next evening was an unusually balmy night for fall in northern Minnesota, so we had the bedroom window open. Remember, we live in a remote corner of a rural area near a vast, swampy wildlife refuge.

As we rested quietly, my wife and I began to hear something strange outside in the darkness. It was coming from the woods. It was a soft, barely perceptible music – lilting, elusive and spidery in quality. It was almost as if we were imagining it. Perhaps a temperate breeze was playing mischief with the drying autumn leaves – yet, there was a definite musical quality to the ghostly strains reaching into our dark bedroom.

Even so, it didn’t concern us all that much – we speculated that perhaps someone was having a party at one of the hunting cabins establihed here and there in the wilds.

Sounds drift a long way in our quiet, unpopulated countryside. On a calm evening, for example, we can hear the murmuring rumble of a train when it passes by on tracks that are eight miles to the west of our house. So it would not be unusual for the strains of music from a cabin, even one several miles away, to waft into our auditory sphere of perception.

For a while we tried to discern what kind of music it was. Definitely not rock, not country. What the hell was it? Some kind of avante garde classical music? The latter was not a likely choice for tough Minnesota hunter types. We eventually drifted off to sleep – but in the morning, my wife had an unusual dream to report.

She said that she had dreamt that a cadre of gnomes – those little garden gnome statues you see on lawns – were walking around inside our house, and they seemed to be extremely curious about the water faucets.

She said they gnomes were trying to figure out how to turn the water on. They were also tracing the pipes to see where they led, into the basement, and such. She said they were stumbling and fumbling about in a comical manner. For example, when one of the gnomes accidentally discovered how to turn the faucet on, they all jumped back in fright when the water came gushing out. They fell over each other, cursing and elbowing each other, chattering in a strange language.

I should say: My wife is much the opposite of me in many ways. She’s an extremely grounded, no-nonsense practical kind of person who put absolutely no stock in anything esoteric or New Agey. She’s a Christian and does not exactly approve of things like the Ouija board and other such stuff. She thinks dreams are basically just random images of a sleeping brain. In short, she’s a classic skeptic, with a highly rational, scientific world view.

But when she told me about her dream, my intuition tingled. I made little or no comment about her dream, other than to say it was “interesting.” She didn’t think much of it either, until the next night –

-- because on the next night the gnomes were back in her dreams again.

This time the dream had become unusually vivid, my wife said. She said the gnomes were still gnomes, but no longer garden gnome statues come to life. Now they were more like “real” gnomes. They had individual faces and personalities. They had authentic-looking clothing, etc. Again, they were fiddling with the water pipes.

Despite a certain alarm bell chiming in the back of my brain, I played it cool and said only something like: “It’s not that uncommon to have the same or similar dream more than once.”

The third night, my wife went to bed before I did. I stayed up to quite late, reading, and she was fast asleep by the time I went upstairs to our bedroom. It was still mild so we had the window open. I immediately began to hear something strange coming from outside. Not eerie music this time, but what sounded very much like a person just outside, strolling around, whistling softly.

I peered out the window, looking down from our second floor room. We have no yard light (I am an amateur astronomer), there was just some pale moonlight. I could see no one, but it would have been difficult to see annyone down there in the dark – yet, the whispery, sing-song whistling was nearby. I had a powerful sense that someone – or something – was in our yard. I could almost feel a presence. There was no mistaking the sound of whistling.

Remember, our location is remote, so there was no chance it was just someone from the neighborhood passing by. We don’t have a neighborhood.

I conducted a number of tests to determine if I was dreaming. After careful consideration, I was satisfied that I was fully awake and in my “normal” physical body.

I considered going outside to investigate, or perhaps sending Patroklas out to investigate. However, my intuitive feeling was to play ‘rope-a-dope.’ That is, if there truly was someone – or something – snooping around out there, well, I thought, let’s see how bold “it” gets. (I was fairly convinced now it was not a person). Let’s give it some rope, I thought. Let it show its cards.

The whistling eventually faded, and I went to bed.

The next morning, sure enough, the gnomes were back in my wife’ dreams. This time they had brought a number of odd contraptions with them – bizarre tools and machineries. They were upping the ante! My wife said the gnomes seemed more desperate than ever to unlock the secrets of our modern plumbing system.

But she had had enough. For my wife, to dream about gnomes invading our home for three nights in a row is unacceptable, plain and simple. She said to me:

"You know, Ken, I don’t know what you’re up to, and I don’t want to know. Just … get … RID … of them!”

I played it cool. I said only: “Don’t worry. You’ve had your last dream about gnomes.”

I could afford to play it cool because I had already decided to do something, and I knew exactly how to get rid of the gnomes.

At this point, I had no doubt that the gnome phenomenon was connected to the Hidden People.

But here again, the Hidden People had made an incredibly stupid blunder. It was obvious.

Think about it: Why was it that it was my straight-as-an-arrow, grounded wife who perceiving a sudden dream invasion of gnomes – while I had not encountered a single gnome in my own dream environment?

Considering all of my dabblings, my decades of traveling the dream world, Ouija board channeling, astral travel, Zen meditation and all the rest – shouldn’t I have been the one to perceive the presence of the gnomes?

The Hidden People could just as well as constructed a neon billboard on my front lawn that said: “We’re here! We’re blocking your perceptions!”

They thought I was the only one they had to worry about. It never occurred to them that my wife may perceive their machinations in her dreams and tell me about it!

It was just too much of a coincidence that the night after my infliction of the Hex of the Festering Five Flashes, my wife suddenly and mysteriously starts having dreams of gnomes night after night!

How stupid do they think I am!

So now it was time to play exterminator. What I needed to do was set up a barrier that would prevent the gnomes from getting into our house, and to ensure they would never come back again to perform whatever deviltry they were planning with our plumbing. Here is what I did:

The next night before bedtime, I washed out my dog’s water dish and filled it with clean water. Inside the bowl of water, I placed a broken watch. Here is a photo:

watch.jpg?w=300&h=225

I placed this “charm” on the floor just inside the front door of our house. We only have two doors in the house. The back door, fortunately, is directly opposite of the front door, making for certain structural advantages in terms of energy flow.

By the back door I placed the Chac Mool. I had purchased this from a tiny Mayan woman when I was in the Yucatan a few years ago. I bought this tiki as a souvenir after I had climbed the great pyramid at Chichen Itza, and spent some time meditating at its summit.

Here is a photo of my Chac Mool:

chac.jpg?w=450&h=337

I know, I know, you may be wondering how the hell a broken watch in a dog basin and the Chac Mool could chase away a platoon of dream gnomes, but I will not go into that right now because it would require many pages of background story, as in the case of my long history with Mr. Lamp. Suffice it to say – I know these to be powerful tools in this particular situation.

Of course, it worked. My wife was happy to report no more gnomes in her dreams the next night, and never again.

I am certain the gnomes got the fright of their lives when they encountered the powerful symbol of “broken time” ensconced in the bowl of an efficient predator. They would have received the second biggest fright of their lives if they decided to try the back door instead and confronted the Chac Mool – which I don’t believe they did – but if they would have, they would have crapped in their little gnome shorts.

You might be asking, “What about the windows?” Well, believe me, after the “broken time” and the Chac Mool, they wouldn’t be trying any windows. They would never be coming back again.

But the eerie week was not done. Despite the failure of the gnomes, the Hidden People had at least one more display for me, which I will tell you about in my next post.

Look here: MINNESOTA PARANORMALA

IronGhost

Mr. Lamp Helps Me Excute the Hex

I love it sometimes when certain forces and events come together in a synchronistic way. Such was the case concerning my problem with the Hidden People.

As it happens, I have long had a fascinating “friend” for the past 25 years, or so, and this friend, I believed, could help me send the hex of the Festering Five Flashes into the realm of the Hidden People.

Here’s how it all began:

Many years ago I was in graduate school and living in a crummy little basement apartment in cold and dreary North Dakota. I was studying international space policy, but also had cognates in astronomy and 20th Century literature.

One evening I was in my apartment torturing my mind trying to make it understand orbital mechanics. I was wrestling with math problems I didn’t really understand, and this after blasting my brain for several hours trying to figure out what the hell James Joyce was talking about in his epic work, Ulysses.

I finally had enough of both of these and allowed myself a couple of hours of a guilty pleasure – reading “The Nature of Personal Reality” by the mother of the modern New Age movement, Jane Roberts.

The good thing about was that I knew that after hours of massaging my brain like a lump of bread dough with heavy thinking and difficult concepts, I was creating optimum conditions for a tremendous night of lucid dreaming – something I was just beginning to dabble with in a more serious manner.

So I finally went to bed, setting my intention that I would “come awake” within a dream. I awoke a short time later from a vague dream about “crystal spheres” which I attributed to the “day residue” of orbital mechanics. But I knew my next set of dreams would be “prime time”! If you want to have powerful lucid dreams – sleep for a while, wake up, stay up long enough to become fully away, then go back to bed. You are now loaded, big time, for lucid dreaming.

Back in bed, I “awoke” again a short time later, but this time something was strange. I was standing in the middle of my dark room, feeling slightly confused. I didn’t remember getting out of bed. I thought maybe I was sleep walking, and woke up. But then I remembered my intention to lucid dream, and decided to “test my reality.” I theorized I might not actually be standing there, but was actually “only” dreaming that I was standing there.

This had happened many times before, and so I developed a number of tests to determine if I was dreaming or not. (It can be very hard to tell). The first thing I did was look back at the bed to see if I could see my sleeping body there. This does not always work because sometime I can see my “meat body” and sometimes I can’t. On this night, I did not see myself sleeping in bed, so I felt I must be awake and not dreaming.

I then scanned the room to see if anything was different or out of place. Many times when you are lucid dreaming, you may find yourself in your own room, but if you look around closely enough, you may discover “stuff” that just should not be there.

One time, for example, I was in my bedroom in the dark, totally convinced I was awake, and about to go back to bed – when I noticed that the rolled up socks in the open top dresser drawer were jumping up and down like popcorn popping! Whoa!! I must be dreaming! I know that in “real life” my socks don’t jump around like ping pong balls in a bingo machine!

Another time, for example, I awoke to discover that I had a television in my room, which seemed normal until I remembered that I did not have a television. Yikes! Dreaming again!

Annyway, on this particular night, everything in my room appeared 100% normal, and I concluded that I was simply awake in “normal reality.” However, I decided to conduct one more test before I went back to bed. I looked at the lamp that was besides my bed, and for some reason, I decided to talk to it. I asked the lamp, “Are you real?”

To my utter surprise – almost shock! – the lamp instantly transformed into a different kind of lamp! It started out as an ordinary cheap dime store, vase-shaped lamp with a beige shade – but it transformed into a sleek, ultra-modern lamp with a funky platinum base, a long flexible neck and a stylish ostrich-egg-like bulb!

WOW! So I was dreaming!!! It’s a thrilling feeling to “awaken” to the idea that you are no longer in an ordinary state – not locked inside your own physical body – you are “out there” somewhere in the dream world – even if that dream world is your own boring, crummy little apartment in North Dakota!

I was about to test – since I was dreaming – if I could fly out the window, but first I wanted to increase the solidity of my dream state by focusing on the “dream sign” of the lamp. I said to the lamp: “Hey do that again!”

The lamp instantly obeyed. WHUMP! It transformed into an old 1920s style office desk lamp! It was brown and rusty, perhaps a copper-tin alloy. I said to the lamp: “Oh, you can do better than that! Show me some real, avante garde lamp design!’

WHUMP!

The lamp became a magnificent piece of lamp art – with a brass base, a beautifully machined, graceful, gently-swirled neck, and the lamp shade was of multi-colored stained glass, kind of like a Tiffany lamp. One of the “panes” in the lampshade was a depiction of the great Polish astronomer Nicholas Copernicus. The next pane over was Galileo.

I clapped. “Bravo, Lamp Dream Creature! Lovely! One more! One more!”

WHUMP!

Now the lamp turned into a work of post-modern art – and ugly white plastic rectangular box with a skinny neck made of a narrow steel pipe wrapped with barbed-wire, supporting an ordinary looking 60-watt bulb.

I was delighted! I could not stop playing with the dream lamp! I kept making the lamp transform into different styles of lamps – when eventually, I seemed to be pushing the “creative ability” of the lamp to its limit.

I sensed that the lamp was beginning to pulsate with an inner energy – it was still producing new lamp designs, but each one seemed to become more alive. The material of the lamp itself began to “breathe” and vibrate.

Then, suddenly, when I asked for “just one more design”

KAAAA---BLLAAAMMMM!!!!!

The lamp explosively transformed into a pulsating, throbbing, shimmering mass of globular energy!

It no longer had the shape of a physical object – it was a super-jazzed cloud of roiling, boiling energy suspended in the middle of my room! I could hear it buzzing and humming like a bee hive – I could sense a tiny electrical vibration from it propagating through the air, tingling against my body – my dream body!

WOW!

The former lamp was now a dazzling globular energy ball, maybe the size of two basketballs put together. It hovered and hummed and boiled – white, only partially organized energy suspended in my room with me!

I said to it: “What are you? Are you even a lamp at all! Are you some kind of astral being who has been hiding out in my room, disguised as a lamp?”

When I said this, the ball of energy – WHUMP! – changed into a lamp again for an instant – then jumped back out to be the energy ball again!

I had a certain feeling about the energy ball, just an intuitive sense that it was somehow alive, maybe an actual astral life-form of some sort – I also had the intuitive feeling that it had maybe the intelligence level of a dog. It seemed to emanate that friendly dog sort of vibe – this was just all gut feeling stuff to me in the moment.

I almost felt like saying to the lamp energy ball: “Here boy! Nice boy! Are you a good energy ball! I like you. Come here! I’ll give you a treat!” But my dream was destined to end there – I suddenly felt my dream environment fade. I had that familiar feeling that it was time to wake up – which I did.

I jumped out of bed – knowing I was really awake this time – and shouted “Wooo-hooo!” because of the thrilling, yet exceedingly strange lucid dream I just experienced! I reached over to the nightstand by the bed – and almost was afraid to touch and click on ---- THE LAMP!

But now it was just an ordinary lamp again – looking nothing like any of the dream lamps, by the way. This was an ugly, cheap lamp with a faux black iron base and neck with a seedy pastel green shade … yet I had a strange new appreciation even for this “real” lamp all the same!

And so that was my first encounter with “a friend” whom is with me to this day, more than two and a half decades later.

I call my friend either the “Magic Lamp” or more often “Mr. Lamp." After my first encounter with Mr. Lamp, I encountered it again and again in the dream world in years to come– and no matter where I was living or even if there was no physical lamp in the room. My relationship with Mr. Lamp grew and deepened over time, over many years.

Also, I should say that my relationship with Mr. Lamp has always been of a man-to-dog quality. Mr. Lamp has a certain amount of child-like intelligence. I can tell that Mr. Lamp likes me, likes to hang out with me, and sometimes likes to follow me around in the dream state – when Mr. Lamp travels, he is a ball of boiling white energy, but when he “lands” he turns into a lamp again.

* * *

When I began experimenting with Monroe Hemi-Sync technology, and learned the technique of the Energy Bar Tool (EBT), which I have made mention of in all my writings here, I decided one night to apply some EBT methods to Mr. Lamp.

For example, one of the ways in which to “charge” the EBT is to make it pulsate by turning it on and off very rapidly, and ever more rapidly, until the on-off process gets to rapid it becomes a vibration. You also make it grow fat and skinny to the Nth degree as another way to really power it up.

So one night when I was lucid dreaming, but still just hanging around in my bedroom, I called upon Mr. Lamp to jump up from the nightstand and adopt what I have come to call his “Pure Potential” form – that is –a boiling ball of resonating, hovering energy. I wanted to see if I could vastly increase the power of Mr. Lamp by “charging him” in the same way I power up the EBT.

To make a long story short – the affect was amazing! Mr. Lamp really seemed to love to energy enhancement! His power increased tremendously! One time after jazzing up Mr. Lamp with the EBT power-up method, he burst into the form of a 200-foot tall beacon -- a combination of the Eiffel Tower and Minnesota’s Split-Rock Lighthouse!

And so I have noodled around in countless other ways with Mr. Lamp over the years, and I won’t go into all that here, except to say that Mr. Lamp has been an invaluable friend and resource to me in a variety of dream travel situations – from lighting dark dream castles I’ve been lost within, to shining light on the faces of scary dream people wearing dark hoods and messing with me.

So by now – perhaps many of you can almost anticipate how I planned to work the hex of the Festering Five Flashes on the Hidden People. Here is what I did:

The night after my session with Kentu, I programmed a very controlled lucid dream. That night, I became aware that I was dreaming, and I happened to be outside my house in my back yard, (which was my ‘dream yard’ technically speaking.)

I looked around the yard, and sure enough, there hanging in a pine tree was a paper Chinese lantern, glowing ruby red. In real life, we don’t have a Chinese lantern hanging in the yard. I knew this was Mr. Lamp.

“Good boy!” I shouted to Mr. Lamp. “Mr. Lamp! Come here, boy! Change, Mr. Lamp! Change! Good boy! Come here!”

Mr. Lamp dropped the pretense of being a Chinese lantern, transformed into a shimmering ball of Pure Potential, and hovered over to me. He brushed against me with a gentle greeting hug.

“Hello, Mr. Lamp. So good! Mr. Lamp, let’s play a game! You love games! I want you to make a special lamp for me! I know you can do it! You’re so good and so smart! You’ll love it, Mr. Lamp! Are you ready to make a special lamp?”

Of course, Mr. Lamp did not have to answer. (He doesn’t speak anyway). But, like a dog, he is always ready and eager to play a game with me.

“Mr. Lamp, I’m going to show you a special kind of lamp I want you to make! Are you ready Mr. Lamp! I want you to make a lamp that looks just like this. Can you do it, Mr. Lamp? Are you a super good boy Mr. Lamp?”

With that, I visualized in my mind the pot of RISK IT ALL brand ketchup, complete with horrific label and all – it was an exact replica of the RISK IT ALL stone pot of ketchup that had materialized before me in The RET.

“Mr. Lamp, this will make a nice lamp for you to mimic. Isn’t this a nice pot! I think it would make su-u-u-u-u-c-h a good base for a really nice lamp! I special lamp! This will be a ketchup lamp! You can put your light on top of this, Mr. Lamp! I know you can do it! You’ll love it! It will feel so good to look like this! I know you like special lamp shapes! Come on, Mr. Lamp! Make a lamp like this!”

Eagerly and as easy as pie, Mr. Lamp transformed from his Pure Potential state and – WHUMP! – suddenly before me was a terrific lamp! The base of the lamp was the stone pot of RISK IT ALL ketchup. Extending from the top of the stone pot was a single brass stem which forked out into a set of double lamp shades.

I clapped enthusiastically!

“Yeaaaa! So gooooood! Mr. Lamp!! Good boy! I love you, Mr. Lamp! It’s so nice! And you’re so nice! You are a RISK IT ALL ketchup lamp! It’s soooo FUNNY! Isn’t it Mr. Lamp? Isn’t this a fun game!?”

I could tell that Mr. Lamp was proud of taking the shape of a RISK IT ALL ketchup lamp. Now I was ready for the next step.

“Mr. Lamp, switch your lights on and off! Do it Mr. Lamp!”

Mr. Lamp blinked his lights on and off.

“Nice, Mr. Lamp! Now do it again. Switch on and off and do it while I count, okay. I’ll say “One” and then you switch on and off. Then I’ll say “two” and you switch on and off. Okay?”

Mr. Lamp performed this flawlessly – over the years, Mr. Lamp and I have developed a close kind of mental or perhaps psi-bond. (Some would say that, because Mr. Lamp is actually a part of my own lucid dream scenario, which makes him actually a fragment of my own mind, a creation of my own dream imagination, so in effect, he IS me … but I won’t go into all this now).

Next I played “1, 2, 3, 4, 5” with Mr. Lamp – every time I counted one to five, Mr. Lamp would switch himself on and off with each count – and yet once again to make a long story short – I taught Mr. Lamp to flash on and off five times. Once Mr. Lamp had learned to flash five times, it was time for the next part of my strategy.

“Mr. Lamp! I love this ketchup lamp so much, I want you to make a double! Can you do that Mr. Lamp? Can you make an exact copy of yourself? It is so much better to have two ketchup lamps. It’s fun! Make another one, Mr. Lamp. Double yourself, Mr. Lamp! Come on, boy!”

WHUMP!

And then there were two RISK IT ALL ketchup lamps floating in front of me.

“GOOOOOD BOOOOY!!!! MR. LAMP! YOU ARE SOOOOOOO GOOOOOD!”

“Now whatever you do, Mr. Lamp, your twin will do at the same time! Your twin will copy you! Mr. Lamp, do the five flashes! See if it works!”

Mr. Lamp flashed five times, and the Mr. Lamp doppelganger exactly mirrored the action.

I clapped vigorously! “Good boy! Good boy! Yea!!! Yea for, Mr. Lamp! Okay, let’s go boy!”

I was still in my back yard, of course, – in my dream back yard, that is. I jumped into the sky and flew the short distance under a lovely moon to the Fields of Wylussa. Mr. Lamp transformed into Pure Potential and followed me. I landed in the tall prairie grass which, was already in autumn die-off, but looking pleasantly golden amber in the moon glow, billowing like a lazy, waving sea.

Pure Potential Mr. Lamp was hovering next to me.

“Okay, Mr. Lamp. Be the ketchup lamp again! And then make a double again!"

Mr. Lamp complied. WHUMP! It transformed into a RISK IT ALL ketchup lamp, and almost instantaneously, split off a doppelganger, making for two ketchup lamps.

“Good boy!”

Next, I concentrated, visualized, and caused a 20-foot tall marble Greek column to appear in the midst of the Fields of Wylussa. Actually, it struck me as an object of beauty. I moved back for a moment and appreciate the artistic look and feel of a marble-white, fluted Greek column gleaming under the moon, standing stark and alone amid a waving field of knee-high buffalo grass.

After a moment, I floated to the top of the column, with Mr. Lamp and his ketchup lamp doppelganger in tow.

“Put the double there, boy!” I said to Mr. Lamp, indicating the flat, squared top of the Greek column.

The RISK IT ALL ketchup lamp doppelganger came to rest neatly in the center atop the marble Greek column, where it would soon be beaming out the Festering Five Flashes throughout the Fields of Wylussa, to my delight and (hopefully) to the bewilderment and consternation of the Hidden People.

Of course, I still had one more task – one more very difficult task – to perform.

It was one thing to set up a flashing doppelganger of a RISK IT ALL ketchup lamp in the Fields of Wylussa -- in the dimension of MY dream state – but this still was not the realm of the Hidden People. Not the same dimension at all. After all, I could see no gigantic Timber Mansion. My dream Fields of Wylussa was empty like my ‘real world’ Fields of Wylussa.

But how could I be sure that I could send my flashing lamp it into the hidden realm of the Hidden People, and how could I be sure it would enter into THEIR dimension -- into their barzakh-like world, to the private universe where Drog Ffang took his followers?

Well – I was certain that I had a particular key to that world – um -- okay, not really an actual ‘key’ to the doorway of the Hidden People Dimension itself, one that I could walk through – but I had maybe a tiny wormhole, so to speak, through which I could send the Festering Five Flashes.

It was the Hidden People themselves that had given me this opening. It was a blunder on their part, and now I planned to take advantage of their carelessness.

You see, when the Hidden People interfered with me at The RET, they created an imbalance. Many of you are probably thinking that I am being perhaps oversensitive, or petty, and merely blowing up in my own mind something that is greater than it really should be– a simple practical joke at my expense. That’s not the point at all, however.

It’s the imbalance! The imbalance! It’s something that I can feel, something that is noticeable – like a teeny, tiny psychic sliver – not a big deal, but … something.

That imbalance carried a certain energy – call it a negative charge. I was aware of this negative charge. I could feel it.

So now -- inn my theory at least -- all I had to do was focus my consciousness on the feeling of that negative charge, aim it at the RISK IT ALL kethcup doppelganger, shoot that negative charge at the RISK IT ALL ketchup doppelganger – and …

…. THE IMBALANCE WOULD AUTOMATICALLY CANCEL AND RETURN TO A STATE OF BALANCE …

… and furthermore …

THE RISK IT ALL KETCHUP MONUMENT WOULD HAVE NOWHERE ELSE TO GO BUT INTO THAT WHICH THE IMBALANCE IS TIED TO – THE PEOPLE IN THE HIDDEN PEOPLE DIMENSION!

And so Mr. Lamp and I floated back down to the ground and stood back from the marble column with the ornamental lamp on top of it.

After a moment of concentration, I raised my hand in the air. I shouted: “Energy Bar!”

The Energy Bar Tool blazed into existence in the starry sky above!

I reached for the sky and the Energy Bar Tool came down to my dream hand; I grasped it like a magic wand!

I could feel the electrical energy of my consciousness mingle with the EBT!

I concentrated and called forth the feeling of the tiny pain of the imbalance, the irritating sliver of the Hidden People within my consciousness!

I caused the Negative Imbalance Charge to pulsate into the EBT!

I pointed the EBT forward like a sword and approached the Greek column!

I made contact against the column with the tip of the EBT!

I felt a surge – a convulsive shudder!

The Greek Column vanished!

I felt the energy imbalance restored!

I tossed the EBT as hard as I could into the air!

The EBT soared up into the starry sky and disappeared!

Then all was quite.

Mr. Lamp and I stood alone for a while in the achingly lovely Fields of Wylussa, feeling the serenity of the quite nighttime dream world under the sheen of the moon glow, the amber-gold prairie grass waving all around us.

Mr. Lamp had resumed the form of Pure Potential.

I said to him: “Make it flash, boy! Five times! Make it flash, boy! Good boy!”

All are welcome at: MINNESOTA PARANORMALA

IronGhost

My friend Brian and I worked the Ouija board, and again, we had no person handy to take notes, so we used a tape recorder to help us create a transcript of this session.

Opening statement: We seek contact with that entity which we have come to call Kentu. Kentu, I realize your true name is not Kentu and that your kind have no names, but will you speak with us?

Note: The planchette began moving immediately and easily.

ANSWER: I WILL SPEAK WITH YOU.

Question: Is this you, Kentu?

ANSWER: WHAT DO YOU WANT?

Question: Your advice or suggestions, Kentu. Here’s the thing, Kentu. There are a certain group of people – most of them are human beings, of the same species as myself. However, they have transcended my physical environment so to speak, and live in a dimension of reality that is not my own. These people have created an imbalance with me that I seek to redress. Do you understand, Kentu?

ANSWER: YOUR ARE LIMITED AND PRIMITIVE. YOU MAKE FALSE DISTINCTIONS.

Question: Yes, perhaps, Kentu. And just let me say in advace, I understand, perhaps from your viewpoint, there is little or no difference between those I call the Hidden People and myself. Let me ask you this – in your resonance with my connection with you, do you have a notion of these people of whom I speak?

ANSWER: YOU ARE MORE TEDIOUS THAN USUSAL. THRUST FORWARD.

Question: I’m sorry, Kentu. I’m going so assume that you are on board with me, so to speak, regarding the relationship, such as it is, between myself and those entities I call the Hidden People. What I seek from you, Kentu, in all of your wisdom, is some method of implementing a … a … procedure of some sort… that will correct an imbalance which has unfortunately come into existence between myself and the Hidden People, and which is to my disadvantage. Can you help?

ANSWER: DESCRIBE THE ADVENT OF THE IMBALANCE.

Question: Okay, well, Kentu, I was minding my own business in a place I call The Restaurant on the Edge of Time – by the way, do you know of this location I speak of?

ANSWER: NO.

Question: I’m sure this is not an important detail, but just to be clear: This place, The RET I call it for short, is a location -- a certain place I was visiting, a kind of common area where I and other beings can go to consume food and/or communicate, or explore knowledge.. I access this place through the process of dreaming. And by the way, on our planet there are certain locations or places where we go to get food. These places are sometimes called a ‘restaurant.’ Do you understand, Kentu?

ANSWER: DESCRIBE THIS FOOD.

Question: I don’t want to get bogged down on that because this is only tangential to the primary issue here, Kentu. But briefly, food is simply the way we gain energy to function on our planet. For example, we may kill another animal, and then eat its flesh. In that way, the physical energy of animal is transferred to our physical bodies. That is food, in a nutshell. Do you understand?

ANSWER: DESCRIBE KILL.

Question: Again, this is strictly a side issue, Kentu, so I don’t want to get distracted along these lines. I will say briefly, however, that to ‘kill’ means that we terminate the physical existence of another being or creature on our planet. This is done in a variety of ways. It involves inflicting some sort of severe damage to the tissues or organs of the animal. This action robs it of its physical life force and makes it something we call ‘dead.’ After the other being is ‘dead,’ we then cut it into smaller pieces, and then we ingest some of these pieces into our own bodies, essentially absorbing them. The energy of the ‘dead’ entity is transferred to ours, for our personal use. But this is not my primary concern right now. Do you understand?

ANSWER: YOU WANT TO KILL THE HIDDEN PEOPLE, CUT THEM TO PIECES AND ABSORB THEIR ENERGY.

Question: Noooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No, Kentu. All I wanted was to describe for you a place where I confronted the Hidden People, and it was in this location, this ‘restaurant’ where they created an imbalance, which I now seek to equalize. All the eating and killing and energy absorption are not issues we need be concerned about. Okay, Kentu? The energy imbalance of concern of an entirely different nature. Do you understand?

ANSWER: WHAT IS THE IMBALANCE?

Question: I’ll try to be brief and succinct: While at the ‘restaurant’ and while I was absorbing food energy, I attempted to manifest another type of food energy, called ketchup. And don’t worry about what ketchup is, Kentu. It is not important. It is simply another kind of food energy which we mix or add to a more primary food energy so that we can absorb the primary energy of both. Okay?

ANSWER: WHY?

Question: Why what?

ANSWER: WHY DO YOU MIX FOOD ENERGIES?

Question: It’s not important, Kentu! This is not my primary thrust! The point is, as I was using my consciousness to manifest ketchup energy, the Hidden People interceded in the process and caused the ketchup energy to appear before me in a slightly altered form. True, and I freely admit, they did not alter the ketchup energy itself, but rather, more insidiously, they altered and outward identity marker of the ketchup energy. This outward marker is what we call a label. It helps us identify the quality of the energy we are absorbing. The point is, they accomplished this outward identity alteration by intrusion, violating my personal energy consciousness sphere, so to speak. This is the nature of the imbalance I wish to rectify. Do you understand?

ANSWER: YOU DO NOT HAVE TO KILL TO OBTAIN KETCHUP ENERGY?

Question: Um, well yes, in my primary realm, my physical world, it is necessary to kill a living entity we call a tomato, which is a vegetative form of life – well, to be completely accurate, this is not exactly killing because we only utilize a portion of the entire tomato plant structure. We do not have to kill the entire tomato organism, but rather, we employ only that portion it uses to reproduce, called its fruit. But in the realm I call The RET, killing is not necessary, since I can use pure mental energy to generate something called ketchup, or ketchup energy, if you will. But the point is, the Hidden People violated the process I used to generate ketchup energy, and this I must account for. Can you help me?

ANSWER: WHAT MANNER OF ORGAN DAMAGE DO YOU INFLICT UPON THE PIZZA ENTITY TO ROB ITS ENERGY?

(Note: BLAAAAHH!!!!!!!!!!! Arg! Kentu drives me crazy! I had to think about this strange question for a moment, and then I realized that I had mentioned pizza before to Kentu – but this was 15 years ago – he must have remembered it! If some of you used my link in the previous post and read about my first encounter with Kentu, there is some information involving pizza in that account. But again, this was at least 15 years ago. I doubt I have mentioned pizza to Kentu in the ensuing years, and my occasional communications with him (or it) over the past decade and a half).

Question: Kentu, strictly speaking, the pizza is a not a living entity. It’s true that pizza is food, and that a variety of living entities are killed to create what we call pizza. I don’t think we need to get bogged down in this. Suffice it to say that pizza is a form of food energy transference we have here on our planet. Okay?

ANSWER: DESCRIBE THIS COMBINING OF ENERGY TRANSFERS PROCESSES TO CREATE PIZZA.

Question: GAH! Kentu, it’s not important! (However, I knew based on experience that it would be difficult to make Kentu move on if I didn’t give him at least something). Briefly, Kentu, pizza at its basis is made from a plant entity which we call wheat. The wheat is killed, and the seeds of the plant are ground into a fine powder, which we call flour. We then gather millions of tiny cellular entities we call ‘yeast’ as a group. We do not kill these yeast cells at first, but rather, mix it with the wheat flour. This pleases the yeast greatly because these entities can eat basic components in the flour which we call sugars, and we also add additional sugars for the yeast to eat, making the yeast very happy because they can thrive. This results in transference of energy which causes the flour to expand. This then is the basis for pizza. We then kill an animal of some kind, cut it up, or grind its flesh, and place this on top of the wheat flour which has been transformed by yeast energy transference. The tomato entity is also generally involved in the make-up of pizza, as well as something called cheese. This latter substance is extremely complex, and so I cannot describe it to you. (Note: I was lying here, but I sure as hell did not want to describe the nature of cheese to Kentu). After all the various energy components are assembled, we expose it all as a combined whole to a high level of heat. This makes it ready for us to transfer its energy to our bodies. Do you understand, Kentu?

ANSWER: THE YEAST IS TRANSFERRED TO YOUR ENERGY WITHOUT DAMAGING ITS ORGANS, AND SO CONSUMMED IN LIVING FORM WHILE THRIVING IN A STATE OF BLISS?

Question: No, Kentu. Even though we initially cause the yeast to thrive by feeding it energy, its life force is destroyed when the pizza as a whole is exposed to extreme heat. Can we please move on to central element of my business with you Kentu, which is the imbalance between me and the Hidden People?

ANSWER: YOU ARE A CRUDE BEING. PERHAPS EVEN REPUGNANT. HOWEVER, THERE ARE TWO OPTIONS TO REDRESS THE IMBALANCE YOU DESCRIBE.

Questions: Excellent! Kentu, can you describe to me what these options are for redressing my imbalance with the Hidden People?

ANSWER: THE FIRST OPTION IS THE UNREQUITED SCRATCH.

Question: Now we’re getting somewhere. Before I ask you what the Unrequited Scratch is, what is the second option?

ANSWER: IT IS NOT OBVIOUS?

Question: I confess: It is not obvious to me, Kentu. Please, Kentu, what is my second option?

ANSWER: THE FESTERING FIVE FLASHES.

Question: Kentu, I readily admit my ignorance of both the Unrequited Scratch and the Festering Five Flashes. Can you describe the Unrequited Scratch for me? Tell me what is is, and how I may use it?

ANSWER: THE UNREQUITED SCRATCH WILL INFLICT AN IRRITATION, WHICH WILL NOT BE ALLEVIATED BY SCRATCH.

Question: Wow, so this will make the Hidden People feel a … what? … burning, itching sensation or irritation all over their bodies, and they won’t be able to do anything about it?

ANSWER: THE SENSATION WILL BE CONFINED TO A SMALL AREA OF THE BODY, BUT WILL NOT RESPOND TO SCRATCH.

Question: Where will the itch be felt?

ANSWER: ON A PORTION OF THE PERCEIVED BODY OF THE HIDDEN PEOPLE WHICH THEY CALL ‘THE ARM’ BUT DIFFERENT FOR ALL.

Question: What do you mean, ‘different for all?’

ANSWER: THE LOCATION OF THE ITCH IS DETERMINED BY THE PROJECTION OF THE PRIMARY DIGIT.

Question: I’m struggling to understand this, Kentu. The Unrequited Scratch essentially produces an itching sensation in a small area on the arm. But the exact location on the arm will be slightly different for each person. Is this essentially correct?

ANSWER: YES. THE LOCATION OF THE ITCH WILL BE THE LENGTH OF THE PRIMARY DIGIT, AS EXTENDED ABOVE OR BELOW THE ELBOW OF THE ARM.

Question: Well, how bad it this skin irritation? Is it a severe burning sensation, or a mild itch, such as a mosquito bite?

ANSWER: DESCRIBE MOSQUITO.

Question: Nooooo!! Kentu, I give you my word of honor, it is not important. A mosquito is an insect for which the blood of other creatures is food. Essentially, it steals blood from living beings by drilling into them with a tiny biological needle – but I beg of you, Kentu, I beg, I beg, don’t ask me any more about this, and let’s not get sidetracked! Please, just describe the magnitude of energy involved in the skin irritation!

ANSWER: THE SENSATION IS MILD YET NOTICABLE. IT WILL NOT RESPOND TO SCRATCH.

Question: Thank you, Kentu! Thank you! How long does this mild sensation of itch last on a small portion of the arm?

ANSWER: THE SENSATION WILL APPEAR AND DISAPPEAR PERIODICALLY.

Question: Like, all day, or what?

ANSWER: PERIODIC.

Question: An hour or two, then or what?

ANSWER: UNITS OF TIME ARE AN ILLUSION.

Question: So they will get a small itch, they won’t be able to make it go away by scratching, and that’s it?

ANSWER: THE ITCH WILL REOCCUR PERIODICALLY WITHOUT END.

Question: Let me see if I understand this. It seems the Unrequited Scratch is some kind of minor hex which inflicts a small, but irritating itch on the arm of a person. It will not respond to scratch – thus the name, the ‘Unrequited Scratch’ – but will fade on its own. But then come back, say, once or twice per day – forever? Is this essentially correct, Kentu?

ANSWER: ESSENTIALLY. THE TIME UNIT OF ‘DAY’ IS AN ILLUSION.

Question: Alright, alright! I think I know enough. I’m not sure at this point if the Unrequited Scratch would be a fair and balanced way to redress the imbalance produced by the Hidden People. Perhaps you should describe to me now the Festering Five Flashes, Kentu?

ANSWER: THE FESTERING FIVE FLASHES WILL CAUSE THE HIDDEN PEOPLE TO WITNESS FIVE FLASHES OF LIGHT PERIODICALLY.

Question: Hmmm. Well, will this be a blinding flash of light? A painful strain on the eyes, for instance?

ANSWER: THE FIVE FLASHES WILL BE OBSERVABLE BUT NOT PAINFUL.

Questions: So I’m guessing, the nature of this hex ( I might as well just call this what it is – a hex!) is, essentially, the Hidden People will occasionally witness five mysterious flashes of light, and they won’t understand where it is coming from, or why it is happening?

ANSWER: YES.

Question: And this will happen once, or perhaps several times a day? Wait! I know, I know. A ‘day’ is an illusion of time! But Kentu, does not your use of the terms ‘periodic’ and ‘periodically’ imply an illusionary element of time?

ANSWER: YOU ARE PRIMITIVE. NO. IT DENOTES VARIATION IN DIMENSIONAL SPACE.

Question: But would not that variation also be an illusion?

ANSWER: THE HIDDEN PEOPLE HAVE ADOPTED THIS DELUSION.

Question: Works for me! Let me ask you this, Kentu. If I manage to inflict the Festering Five Flashes upon the Hidden People, will they ever be able to rid themselves of it?

ANSWER: PERHAPS, WITH GREAT EFFORT.

Question: Perfect! Kentu, you are a marvel! I think I have exactly what I need now. I know exactly how to proceed. I want to thank you, as always, for speaking with us Kentu. We appreciate the insight and knowledge of your superior intellect and unique perspective! Farewell, Kentu!

Note: The planchette glided over to “GOOD-BYE.”

 >>>

Despite the always extremely tedious task of squeezing information out of Kentu (this session took several hours, and left us almost beyond exhaustion) – I was thrilled beyond thrilled by what I learned from Kentu!

Here’s why I was so thrilled: It just so happens that I knew exactly what to do next – exactly how I can get my petty revenge on the Hidden People for the now infamous RISK IT ALL ketchup incident.

I knew immediately that the Unrequited Itch would be something I could not handle.

However, I had an extremely powerful, immediate and intuitive realization that I had all the tools I needed in my “bag of tricks” to inflict the hex of the Festering Five Flashes upon the Hidden People.

To help you understand this, I need to tell you a story from my very early days of lucid dream development and experimentation – and so I will leave that to the next post.

But the bottom line is: I knew I would be able to get back at the Hidden People –

 I knew exactly how to create the Five Flashes …

 I knew exactly how to send it into the Hidden People's dimension

 I knew exactly how to make sure they knew it had come from me

… and they would soon be wonderfully perplexed by an eerie, unexplainable flashing light suddenly invading their daily existence...

.... and I would have respect.

-----

Get YOUR respect at: MINNESOTA PARANORMALA

IronGhost

Why I Have a Problem With the Hidden People

And so my session with MOMMY went on for some time, and because I want to move on more quickly to the amazing events which the MOMMY info on the Hidden People precipitated, I am going to provide a sort of wrap up summary review. Here’s what we know:

1. The Hidden People are mostly Nordic refugees of a kind from the 7th Century. Their leader was the ancient shaman Drog Ffang, who discovered some kind of doorway into another dimension – similar to that realm where dead people go when they are in a transition phase between this life and some greater dimension of existence beyond death.

2. The Hidden People never encountered physical death. They are human beings like you and I, but are now living in a kind of immortal existence in a pleasant realm where they have no struggle, violence, or any of the normal strife we poor human beings face in our harsh lives here on the purely material plane.

3. Although they originated on an island in the North Sea, their dimensional transition placed them near my location here in Minnesota. (It’s interesting to note that Minnesota has a heavy tradition of Scandinavian immigration in general!)

4. The Hidden People have been able to sense my presence among their realm.

So what is the ‘Deconstruction Crisis’ MOMMY spoke of? I will return here to a portion of the Ouija transcript:

Question: Mommy, can you explain this Deconstruction Crisis of the Hidden People?

ANSWER: HONEY, IN YOUR PHYSICAL REALM, NATURE ABHORS A VACUUM. IN THE REALM OF CONSCIOUNSESS, NATURE ABHORS STAGNATION. THUS, THE HIDDEN PEOPLE CANNOT MAINTAIN THEIR EXISTENCE AS SUCH.

Question: I already think I understand. So the Hidden People escaped to a realm where they had no struggle for anything. For example, if they want a delicious meal of roast fowl, a crust of fresh-baked bread and a nice glass of wine, all they had to do was think it into existence, and it appears before them, right?

ANSWER: YES, HONEY.

Question: In effect, perhaps even the need to eat like we do is optional, right?

ANSWER: YES.

Question: In effect, they live in a purely blissful realm where all they have to do is, I don’t know, sit around and read poetry, enjoy the sun on their faces, wander the woods in delight – but if they wanted to, they could enjoy the pleasures of material trappings – such as sex and great food and good conversations, am I right, Mommy?

ANSWER: YES, HONEY. THE REALM OF THE HIDDEN PEOPLE IS ONE OF ENDLESS SUMMER AFTERNOONS AND WARM STARRY NIGHTS, WITHOUT END.

Question: But the problem, in a word, would be – boredom? As you say, Mommy, consciousness abhors stagnation. Eventually, the Hidden People would began thinking more deeply about the nature of existence, what reality is – and their consciousness would inevitably seek to evolve and advance – and that would mean they would have to do something more with their lives that just hang out endlessly in bliss, right?

ANSWER: YES, HONEY.

Question: And so after perhaps centuries of easy living, some of the Hidden People would began to upset the apple cart, so to speak, by starting to tinker with the basic premise of their existence – people would start making advances, learning things, and sooner or later, the Hidden Realm would start to experience the struggles and agonies of growth and advancement, right?

ANSWER: YES, HONEY.

Question: So what does the Deconstruction Crisis actually do or how does it work?

ANSWER: ADVANCEMENT IS PAINFUL, YET MOST OF THE HIDDEN PEOPLE WISH TO MAINTAIN THEIR EASE AND BLISS FOREVER. IT IS NECESSARY TO DECONSTRUCT ADVANCES, TO MAKE PEOPLE FORGET, SO THEY CAN RETURN TO THE BASIC LEVEL OF THE REALM.

Question: How is it done?

ANSWER: THE METHOD WAS WORKED OUT BY DROG FFANG. HE GAVE ALL A CHOICE. THOSE WHO WISHED TO ADVANCE COULD MOVE ON. THOSE WHO WISHED TO STAY FACED DECONSTUCTION OF HIGHER KOWLEDGE.

Question: So they could stay in their childlike bliss – it would be like if we took Adam and Eve who gained knowledge by biting the apple -- knowledge of good and evil – and reverse them back to their pre-apple bite existence of ignorant bliss. So Mommy, how may of the original 29 people remain in the Hidden Realm today? You say they deconstruct about every 700 years. That means they have implemented two Deconstructions since the 7th Century. How many remain?

ANSWER: MOST OF THEM, HONEY. DROG FFANG CHOSE NOT TO STAY. OTHERS MOVED ON AS WELL.

Question: Well, have more people joined the original 29 over the centuries to replenish their numbers – or maybe they are able to reproduce, have babies? I know that at least one alien is now living among them – Hum Sentient. What is the situation, Mommy?

ANSWER: THEY REPRODUCE IN MANY WAYS, HONEY. OTHERS FROM OTHER REALMS ALSO ENTER.

-----

As you can see, everyone, these sessions always produce the same problem for me – endless information -- making it all too easy to get sidetracked down all kinds of other roads and avenues. I could ask endless questions about the lives of the Hidden People – for example, do they give birth to babies like we would I our world – if so, why? Are there other ways to reproduce? What do they do with their lives and their time all day? Do they play games? Have adventures” Write music and poetry and literature? One could easily write and entire book on the lives of the Hidden People.

And let’s not forget – how is it that the Hidden People know about The RET – and what about all of the ramifications of the fact that I can travel to The RET too? – meaning the dimension of the Hidden Realm and my daily normal life have a common point of intersection – yikes!

But as you all know – I have many, many other issues to get on with. There’s the matter of Dr. 58, and poor Gefraim still needing some kind of rescue, and I must implement the “Big Plan” I am preparing for The Man Thing Entity. Let’s not forget about the Staff Guild and the Conclave where I am being represented by the Not Necessarily Human Buulde in my attempt to construct a staff of oak rather than willow!

And yet … AND YET! … there was still something that was really sticking in my craw, so to speak …

… it was this matter of the RISK IT ALL brand ketchup.

Here’s the deal, people: The fact is, there is no doubt in my mind that the Hidden People played a practical joke on me in The RET. Sure it was kind of funny. I think it is obvious that they wanted to get a reaction out of me – perhaps they hoped I would recoil I horror at the grotesque nature of the RISK IT ALL ketchup label – they would had a nice little laugh at my expense.

Hey, I appreciate the humor, and I’m a good sport for a practical joke, even if it is played by a bunch of freeloaders living large and lazy in some kind of barzakh world.

However … there is no getting around the fact that an imbalance was created. After all, the Hidden People – in my opinion – went too far. That’s because in order to create RISK IT ALL ketchup, it was necessary for them to interfere with the workings of my own, personal consciousness.

As you know, in The RET I used my creative manifesting mental visualization abilities to materialize some ketchup for myself – and the Hidden People stuck their fingers into that process – into my own mind – without my permission.

Call me crazy, my friends, but I simply can’t allow this kind of thing to go unanswered.

After all, am I going to have these tricksters play games with me now, every time I return to The RET?

Plus, now that they have confirmed my existence by seeing me at The RET (and not just using their goofy Ro Grating, and whatever,) will they – in their infinite boredom – start messing around with me in The Fields of Wylussa, say?

Probably not – I don’t care – the fact is, I made the unalterable decision that, at least as far as the Hidden People are concerned, that I would redress the imbalance created by them between us.

Certainly, “revenge” is too strong a word, but I think I am being completely reasonable when I say that it is incumbent upon me to deal a bit of “payback” for the meddling of the Hidden People, for the RISK IT ALL ketchup incident.

Of course, the task is daunting. How do you deal some payback to some people who are living in another dimension, whom I can’t see, whom I can’t interact with … and so on?

To get some help and advice on what to do, I decided to contact an Ouija entity who I’m sure would be the perfect “person” for the job – someone who could at least give me some excellent advice on what I could do to stick it to the Hidden People.

That being is one that I have communicated with via the Ouija occasionally over the past 15 years or so. His name is KENTU.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with some of my other Ouija board contacts, here is the first session with KENTU I conducted some years ago: THE KENTU SESSION

I'll just say in advance that KENTU did not let me down.

So in my next post, I will present the transcript of the sessions I conducted with KENTU – and you’ll never believe the options and “tool” he provided for me, enabling to get my payback on the Hidden People for the RISK IT ALL ketchup incident.

PLEASE SEE: MINNESOTA PARANORMALA

IronGhost

Opening statement: Mommy?

ANSWER: MOMMY IS HERE, HONEY.

Question: Hello, Mommy ... Um, Mommy ....

(Note: It necessary to take a moment. At times, the initial connection with Mommy produces a strange kind of joy, which I find difficult to incorporate. Ouija partner Brian waited stoically while I composed myself.)

Question: Hi, Mommy. As you probably know, (she always knows what I am doing) I encountered a group of strange people at The Restaurant at the Edge of Time. I was unable to approach them or speak to them, yet they seemed unusually interested in me. Do you know who I am talking about?

ANSWER: DEAR, THESE WERE THE HIDDEN PEOPLE.

(Note: You will recall that I did not know of the term "Hidden People" until this moment, though I have been using is retroactively in my previous posts).

Question: The Hidden People? Who are they?

ANSWER: THEY EXIST ON YOUR EARTH, BUT HIDDEN.

Question: My earth?

ANSWER: YES, DEAR.

Question: I hardly know what to ask first. Are they human beings?

ANSWER: MOST OF THEM ARE, HONEY.

Question: Most of them?

ANSWER: YES.

Question: Well, like 90% of them, or 75%, or how many are human?

ANSWER: YOU ARE BEING SILLY, DARLING.

Question: Hmm. Perhaps. Okay, well, I mean, of those that are not human, what are they? For example, the guy in the funny red suit and ankle boots. Is he a human being?

ANSWER: NO, HONEY. HIS ORIGIN IS NOT OF YOUR WORLD.

Question: Where is he from and what is he?

ANSWER: ANOTHER GALAXY. SHIFTED DIMENSIONALLY.

Question: He looked human. What is he, some kind of mimic alien?

ANSWER: THIS BEING IS PROJECTING A HUMAN FORM SO THAT IT MAY LIVE AMONG THE HIDDEN PEOPLE.

Question: It? Does this alien have a name?

ANSWER: AMONG THE HIDDEN PEOPLE HE IS CALLED HUM SENTIENT.

Question: Gah!!! I’m sorry I asked. (Talk about silly!) Let’s forget about Mr. Sentient for a moment, whoever or whatever the hell he is. You say most of the Hidden People are human beings -- like me, then, Mommy?

ANSWER: YES, SWEETHEART, THEIR ORIGIN IS AS YOURS.

Question: What are they hidden from? From all us here in my society and world?

ANSWER: EXACTLY THIS, HONEY.

Question: And they live among us, unseen?

ANSWER: YES.

QUESTION: How, Mommy? Where?

ANSWER: A PLANE OF EXISTENCE. WHAT YOU CALL DEAD PEOPLE SOMETIMES DWELL IN SUCH A PLACE. A TRANSITION AREA OF EXISTENCE. IT IS NEAR YOU.

Question: Maybe you mean like when people die, and they become what in some traditions are called a "bardo?" I know, for example, in the Sufi tradition there is a "transition world" called the "barzakh." People who have died physically sometimes get stuck there. Are the Hidden People in the barzakh?

ANSWER: SOMETHING SIMILAR, HONEY.

Question: Not exactly the barzakh, then, but something similar you say?

ANSWER: YES.

Question: So are the Hidden People dead human beings, or I should say, physically dead and now existing in a barzakh-like world?

ANSWER: NO, HONEY, THE HIDDEN PEOPLE HAVE NEVER PHYSICALLY DIED. THEY FOUND A KEY TO ENTER A TRANSITION WORLD, TO TRANSFER THEIR LIVES INTO IT.

(Note: I take a deep breath. This could get complicated and generate pages of transcripts. I try to focus and move on without getting bogged down).

Question: Errr, I don't know what to ask next, Mommy. Let me ask this first: How is it that the Hidden People seem to know me so well, and took such delight in my presence at The RET?

ANSWER: THEY OCCUPY THREE ORGANIZATIONS OF EXISTENCE IN YOUR GEO-DIMENSIONAL PROXIMITY. THEY LIVE CLOSE TO YOU.

Question: In Minnesota specifically. I'm speaking of my Minnesota, of course, not one of the alternates, such as that of Dr. 58?

ANSWER: YES, YOUR MINNESOTA.

Question: So these spooks, or whatever they are -- live in or near the same location I live in, except they are in this... a "Transition World"?

ANSWER: YES, HONEY. IT IS NOT A TRANSITION WORLD FOR THEM. THEY EXIST THERE AT WILL.

Question: And so they can see me, and I cannot see them?

ANSWER: YES AND NO, SWEETIE. THEY CANNOT SEE YOU ALL THE TIME. HOWEVER, THEY ENJOY SIGHTINGS OF YOU. YOU CAN SEE THEM SOMETIMES, AS IN THE RET, FOR EXAMPLE.

Question: Besides The RET, can they see me?

ANSWER: YES.

Question: But they can't they see me all the time, outside The RET, but sometimes here in my daily world?

ANSWER: YES.

Question: Why can't they see me all the time?

ANSWER: FOR COMPLEX REASONS OF PHYSICS. WHEN CONDITIONS ARE RIGHT, OR WHEN YOU ARE PERFORMING CERTAIN ACTIVITIES, THEY CAN SEE YOU, OR WHEN THEY EMPLOY THE RO GRATING.

Question: What is the Ro Grating?

ANSWER: IT CAN PROVIDE A VIEW BETWEEN DIMENSIONS.

Question: And the Hidden People can use this device to see me?

ANSWER: AT TIMES. THEY DON’T UNDERSTAND THE RO FULLY.

Question: So, it's like some technology they are developing, but it's still sort of hit and miss for them, or not perfected yet?

ANSWER: AN ESOTERIC DEVICE. IT IS NOT TAKEN SERIOUSLY.

Question: Hmmm. It almost sounds like the Ro Grating is what we would call an occult implement here, such as a crystal ball or Ouija board, and has a similar level of ... um ... respect or acceptance among the Hidden People?

ANSWER, YES, HONEY.

Question: But sometimes the Ro Grating is able to reveal a view of me to the Hidden People. What do they think when they see me?

ANSWER: THEY ARE AMUSED.

Question: Why am I so amusing to them?

ANSWER: IT IS AS IF A RARE OR EXTINCT OR MYTHICAL ANIMAL LIVES AMONG THEM.

Question: Gah! again! Should my dignity be bruised, Mommy?

ANSWER: WHAT DO YOU THINK, HONEY?

Question: Forget it. Well, is it like … what … when they sight me, is it like seeing Bigfoot, or Sasquatch, or something like that?

ANSWER: PERHAPS, DEAR. YOU ARE CONTROVERSIAL. A POINT OF AMUSEMENT.

Question: Is there agreement among the Hidden People that I am real?

ANSWER: NO, HONEY.

Question: Well why shouldn't there be agreement I exist? There have been sighting of me. You say they are human beings like me living in another dimension. What can't they just theorize that I am a human being living in another dimension, a human they are sometimes able to glimpse?

ANSWER: BECAUSE OF THE DECONSTRUCTION CRISIS.

Question: Sheeeesh!! Nothing is ever simple! What is the Deconstruction Crisis?

ANSWER: TO MAINTAIN THE STABILITY OF THEIR EXISTENCE, THEY MUST FACE A CRISIS EVERY 700 YEARS, TO DECONSTRUCT KNOWLEDGE GAINED.

Question: I'm thinking about this! I'm thinking! Bleeeccchhh! Let's back up. You say the Hidden People are human beings like me, of my earth. Were they ever in the same dimension as me?

ANSWER: YES, DARLING.

Question: Mommy, at The RET I felt that some of the Hidden People were familiar to me, as if I might have known them and forgotten about them. Were any of them people I knew in my current physical lifetime?

ANSWER: NO, HONEY. IN YOUR TERMS, THEY DID NOT LIVE IN YOUR TIME. I WILL LEVERAGE YOUR TIME FRAME. THE ORIGINAL HIDDEN PEOPLE LIVED IN YOUR Century 600 A.D. DON’T BE TOO ATTACHED TO TIME, SWEETIE.

Question: I know, but wow. Say they did live in the 7th Century. Where did they live? Where on planet earth?

ANSWER: AN ISLAND. IN WHAT YOU CALL THE NORTH SEA.

Question: What culture or nation were they from?

ANSWER: YOU WOULD CALL THEM NORDIC.

Question: How many of them were on this island in 600ish A.D.?

ANSWER: 29 PEOPLE.

Question: On the whole island, there were 29 people?

ANSWER: YES.

Question: Did they arrive to this island from some mainland?

ANSWER: YES, THEY ESCAPED TO THE ISLAND.

Question: Escaped from what, Mommy? I wish you would offer more information in each of your replies.

ANSWER: THAT WOULD LEAD TO CONFUSION, HONEY.

Question: Okay, okay, Mommy! You know best. What were they escaping from?

ANSWER: THEIR PERCEIVED BRUTALITY AND CRUELTY OF EXISTENCE.

Question: And did they find peace on the island?

ANSWER: THEY FOUND PEACE, BUT ALSO HARDSHIP. THUS WAS THE MOTIVATION OF DROG FFANG.

Question: Wait a minute. Who or what was is this Drog Ffang?

ANSWER: HE WAS THE LEADER OF THE ISLAND PEOPLE.

Question: You speak of a motivation. What motivation? -- to get away the brutality and cruelty of existence? Drog Ffang wished to deliver himself and his people from this?

ANSWER: YES, HONEY.

Question: What methods did he seek to employ to free his people of their harsh existence?

ANSWER: DROG FFANG HAD TRAVELED FAR. HE COMMUNED WITH SHAMANS TO THE EAST OF HIS BIRTH LAND. HE PRACTICED THEIR ARTS DILIGENTLY.

Question: Wow, maybe Siberian shamans, if he traveled to the east of this land, which to me, sound like some of Scandinavian country. Am I correct, Mommy?

ANSWER: PERHAPS.

Question: So he must have become extremely adept indeed in shamanic practices to not only unlock the doorway to a barzakh world and enter directly into it! And you say he did so physically, without leaving behind his physical body, or dying physically?

ANSWER: YES, HONEY. HE WAS SKILLED BUT ALSO BENEFITTED FROM CHANCE.

Question: What do you mean?

ANSWER: A PASSING GRAVITY WAVE REMNANT ALTERED THE RESONANCE OF IN THE FABRIC OF YOUR EXISTENCE. DROG FFANG RECOGNIZED IT. HE GUESSED. HE TOOK A GREAT RISK. HE OPENED THE DOORWAY. HE TOOK HIS PEOPLE WITH HIM.

Question: Let me see if I can make an educated guess at what happened here. Drog Ffang, a one-time shaman's apprentice, was long experienced at developing esoteric abilities and practices. He was probably skilled at, say, astral travel and lucid dreaming, and who knows what else. Then, a gravity wave -- possibly generated by a super nova, or perhaps a black hole -- happened to be passing through the earth. Drog saw this as an opportunity to open a doorway -- literally into another dimension -- and so that even his people, who probably were not as adept as Mr. Ffang, could also step through with Drog's assistance. How did I do, Mommy?

ANSWER: WELL ENOUGH, HONEY.

Question: Thank you, Mommy! But there is so much here that needs to be explained. So by stepping through the doorway into a kind barzakh world -- what happened to them? Were they in a different environment, different from my kind of normal environment?

ANSWER: YES, A PARADISE FROM THEIR VIEWPOINT. THEY NO LONGER NEEDED TO STRUGGLE FOR BASIC NEEDS. THEY MANIFEST WHAT THEY NEED WITH CONSCIOUSNESS.

Question: In a sense, it is like they are lucid dreaming all the time, or something very similar?

ANSWER: IN A SENSE, HONEY.

Question: Well, they passed into the barzakh with their physical bodies. Did their physical bodies transform, somehow?

ANSWER: HONEY, THEIR BODIES RESONATE WITH THE NATURE OF THEIR ENVIRONMENT, AS DOES YOURS.

Question: Are they basically immortal then? Do they age, or anything like that?

ANSWER: ALL ARE IMMORTAL, HONEY.

Question: I think you know what I mean, Mommy. What say you?

ANSWER: WHEN THEY BECAME HIDDEN, THEY NO LONGER CONFRONTED THE PERCEPTION OF PHYSICAL DEATH.

Question: Uhhhhh.... well, okay, how is that they ended up in Minnesota?

ANSWER: CONDITIONS ARE CORRECT IN THREE LOCATIONS NEAR YOU. THE HIDDEN PEOPLE OCCUPY THESE THREE LOCATIONS.

Question: Well, is my house in this same location, but just in another dimension?

ANSWER: NOT YOUR HOUSE. IN THAT AREA YOU SOMETIMES CALL THE FIELDS OF WYLUSSA.

(Note: Yahhhh!!!! There is an area east of my home that I sometimes whimsically call "The Field of Wylussa." It is a lovely area of prairie bordered by a wonderful wooded area that my dog and I spend a lot of time wandering this area. To make a long story short, I call this the "The Fields of Wylussa" because it is an area of such serene pleasure (especially in the summer). I told my wife it's as if some kind of subtle, magical energy or presence is there -- which I (again whimsically) attribute to a "nature god" to whom I have given the name "Wylussa." In fact, I did not entirely invent this name. It came to me in a dream -- but it was one of those filmy, not-very-vivid, unreal-ish dreams. I'm not saying that there is an actual nature god dwelling in this area, I mostly just like to think there is. Anyway, here is a picture of the Fields of Wylussa. )

lunapic_131430075588166_6.jpg?w=450&h=337

Question: I swear, Mommy, you have a certain knack for just sort of jolting me in an unexpected way sometimes! I have always felt this area was delightful, but I always attributed it to simple the beauty and peace of nature. Could it be that the presence of the Hidden People's environment here is somehow suffusing this area with a ... I don't know, happy vibration?

ANSWER: THAT’S FOR YOU TO SAY, HONEY.

Question: Yeow! Mommy, help me out. Please don’t tell me there is really a nature entity named Wylussa living there!

ANSWER: THEN I WILL NOT TELL YOU.

Question: Ahhhhh!! But, anyway, so this is where the Hidden People are? What do they have ... like ... a colony, houses, tents ... what?

ANSWER: THEY MAINTAIN A DWELLING, A TIMBER MANSION.

Question: A timber mansion??!! Are there still just 29 Hidden People?

ANSWER: NO, HONEY.

Question: How many are there?

ANSWER: THE NUMBER IS INDETERMINATE.

(Note: I was going to ask why, but decided not to pursue this).

Question: Are the original 29 refugees from the North Sea island and Drog Ffang still among the Hidden People?

ANSWER: DROG FFANG LEFT AS A RESULT OF THE DECONSTRUCTION CRISIS.

Question: Back to that crisis thing again ... !

(Note: This had already been a rather long session, and this post is also getting long, so I will end it here now ... there is some more territory to cover here, including more on Deconstruction Crisis, the motivations and dealings of the Hidden People, what they are up to, more on my relationship to them ... and still a bit later ... some amazing trouble I stirred up with the Hidden People (you won’t believe this) ... including some really, really, really strange happenings around my home that resulted ... ).

P.S. I realize this is straying somewhat from the Dr. 58 material, but there is some relationship or at least some possible connections involving aspects of "Inter-dimensional Minnesota" that I can't help but find intriguing).

----

I send out Golden Energy at: MINNESOTA PARANORMALA

IronGhost

Brief Note: Virus Attack

Hi Everyone:

My apologies for being away. Both my computers are down due to virus attack, so they are in the shop and thus the delays. Hope to get my hardware back today or tomorrow, and will resume posting ASAP. Have incredible amounts of stuff that I am excited to share with you all.

Thanks for all you emails and inqueries. (I'm at the library typing this, but they have a time limit on computer use! AHHHH!!)

Be back soon!