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The Strange Universe of Dr. 58

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Eerie Phenomenon Follows My Hex on the Hidden People



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:


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:


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.



Recommended Comments

a nice cup of tea


Iron Ghost I gotta say, I love reading your blog. I clap my hands with glee when I see a new installment, and then i have big conversations with my hubby about the nature of personal landscapes and all that jazz. I send a big 'Thank You' your way for sharing your stuff, cos I love reading it - Cuppa.

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IG, this has been perhaps my favorite installment so far. I appreciate the fact that the phenomena you describe also manifest in various ways in this 3d life.

The world of the Hidden People isn't so far after all!

I find it so hilarious that they seem to have been attempting some payback of their own. The very human need to get the better of someone doesn't seem to have been left behind when they exited this world.

Can't wait to see where this goes. (The Albatross puffs his pipe thoughtfully)

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(They are so so faerie like. geez!)

Were the gnomes projections/covers or have gnomes from other places gotten into their world, too?

Have you ever talked to a Dr. 58 of the future?

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