Jump to content
Join the Unexplained Mysteries community today! It's free and setting up an account only takes a moment.
- Sign In or Create Account -

The Strange Universe of Dr. 58

  • entries
  • comments
  • views

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.


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:


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–


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.


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 …



Recommended Comments

'Restaurant on the Edge of Time' reminds me of 'The Restaurant at the End of the Universe' from 'The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy' series.

Link to comment

I know, and there is a whole interesting story behind this.

I have never liked Hitchhiker’s Guide – I read the first half of the first book when it came out years ago, and I thought it was bloody awful. I hated it. (And I know, almost everyone disagrees with me on this, and I respect everyone’s opinion).

However -- my bigger gripe with “Hitchhiker” is that I have maintained from the beginning and over the years that if the first book was not plagiarized, it was a flat-out slavish copy of another obscure book called “Venus on the Half Shelf” which was written by Philip Jose Farmer.

But get this: Philip Jose Farmer – for some amazing reason – decided to publish “Venus on the Half Shell” under the pen name of “Kilgore Trout.”

Of course, Kilgore Trout is the down-and-out science fiction writer character from Kurt Vonnegut’s “Breakfast of Champions.” Vonnegut was so incensed that he threatened to sue Farmer if he did not stop publishing books under the pen name of Vonnegut’s character, Kilgore Trout.

If you read the first chapter of “Venus on the Half Shell” and compare it to the first chapter of “Hitchhiker” -- I mean, it’s like, come on, this is the same book!

But now the real kicker – when “Hitchhiker” first came out, the advertisements for the book said:

“Adams writes like Kurt Vonnegut on acid!”

What a coincidence!

So in many debates with my fellow science fiction fans over the years (including the days before the Internet) I always maintained that “Hitchhiker” was basically a shallow copy of “Venus on the Half Shell” – and I also maintained that even the publisher and publicists knew it was – and that they tapped into the controversy over the Farmer-Vonnegut-Trout controversy to help promote the book.

For years, the vast majority of people thought that Vonnegut WAS the actual author of “Venus on the Half Shell.” It was only later revealed that it was Philip Jose Farmer.

Years later, when I first started writing about The Restaurant on the Edge of Time, it never occurred to me that some day it might be compared to the "Hitchhiker" Restaurant -- which makes for a certain irony -- since for years I have maintained that "Hitchhiker" was poorly written, and not a work of great originality.

Link to comment

I also read a lot of science fiction when I was younger and I too hated Hitchhikers guide. Which has pretty much been heresy ever since. I'm not sure if I have read the original by Farmer. I of course know his name and I'm sure they had books by him at my local library so I must have read some of them at least. I didn't only read novels but they also had a lot of compilations with short stories by various authors. Sci-fi was kinda the wow-genre of it's time. I also enjoyed graphic novels when i could get my hands on them in swedish or english. They were often of french origin. But I'm glad I'm not alone in the universe hating Hitchhikers. I didn't find it funny at all.

Link to comment

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now