KII session portion

Because I assumed a quiet geomagnetic night wouldn't make for great hunting, I didn't take my camcorder with nightvision. The group we went with had a good deal of equipment, so we figured we'd let them use theirs to cover all the major places. During our long and successful KII session, I did realize my cheap-o digital camera had video capability, so I turned it on. The room was completely dark and the lights on the KII about 6' away, so it's rather hard to watch the lights lighting up as the device was at an angle from where I sat, but you can see the hint of it and hear our reactions. At this point, we'd been shooting the breeze with "them" for about three or four minutes. I was just getting into determining how many there were present. We seemed to get a good reaction speaking gently and laughing and talking at a regular conversational cadence. Our prior conversation leading up to asking them to talk was just friendly and funny banter and humor. This portion is mostly where I was asking questions and trying to get answers. I had just gotten the worst goosebumps of my entire life before the lights started answering us and I thought to turn on the camera at this point. I would liked to have recorded longer, but the camera was already loaded with photos and ready for a memory card to be inserted, so the recording was cut short. It went on for about 5-8 minutes more of constant questions and answers directly after asking. If the answer was "no" the other lights wouldn't light up. If we paused to think of a question for a while, nothing happened. It was very blatantly right after the question that the lights would go off.

Successful KII Sessions!

I admit to having used the KII meter extensively trying to get a response from it like you see on “Ghost Hunters” with absolutely zero success.

The device is basically used by electricians to see if a wire is live before working, so it needs to be held up to an electrical device to get a reading. If you move it away just a little bit, the lights go out and it no longer registers electrical fields. In normal turned on mode, it shows one green light. If EMF gets higher, other lights light up, each color correlating with a level of electromagnetic fields.

After using it for hours on end in different locations without even a blip, I was skeptical about bringing it with me on my latest study. Although the location and even the geology were fairly promising and the level of human suffering immense, I had my doubts it would finally show anything.

Although I usually wait years to divulge any details of any study for reasons of professionalism (some residents and owners don’t want even a hint of a place that could be traced back to them), I can say I used it this weekend (at a vaguely described location) and found the KII meter to be the best piece of equipment (other than my EFM detector) that I brought along.

Once we established the areas of high EMF in the building, we moved on to the floor creaking issues. It made a much different sound when weight was applied to the boards compared to when they were released after walking on them when the building cooled down for the night. Although we heard no creaking boards, we decided to let our senses take us.

My ghost hunting partner and I work very well together, like J&G (TAPS). We have a companionable ability to coax things forward with casual conversation and friendly voices. My first impression on my initial walk through is always to focus on the places I definitely felt something unusual about. I ignored the places with high EMF because that could very well be what was affecting my sensations, so we focused on the places I knew something was lurking.

The building had been changed a great deal over the years, but the basic structure remained and the original entrance. That was a place I thought my have residual from entry in and out of the door. We parked ourselves in some comfy chairs, put the KII on the table in the center of the room. There wasn’t a ceiling fan or electrical device within 10 feet. We kicked back and started talking, hoping that soft murmuring voices and light casual conversation might be interesting. For a time, I spoke about "you don't know us, so I'll tell you. I'm a writer and an artist, love to garden and cook, and my favorite thing is to have my back scratched." My partner proceeded to introduce herself. We finally began to ask questions and explain the green light on our device and how if they touched it, the lights would light up and we’d know they were there.

A light flickered. My entire body went up in flames of goosebumps—it was so intense, I felt as if my hair should be standing on end. I don’t think I’ve ever had one quite like that. I knew something was there. I could nearly smell ozone. It was very prickly/crackly.

We told them it if its answer was “yes,” to make the lights light up. If its answer was “no,” to not light up the lights. We then asked if it if it was a male. Nothing. Was it a female? Nothing. That baffled us because you have to be one or the other, right? I thought a moment and asked, “are there more than one of you?” The answer was “yes.” To test the efficacy of the answers, we waited unusual pauses at times between questions to see if it would light without us speaking. Nope. The minute we asked a question like “are you lonely?” The lights went on. If we asked “were you a patient here?” Nothing. Then, “did you live here?” Lights went on. We continued this conversation for a 5-8 minutes and continually got responses exactly after the questions but never when we weren’t asking questions. Sometimes we talked to each other for a while and nothing happened. Then, we included “them” in on the conversation and they’d answer again and again. I could tell we were losing them when another group investigating the building had come to join up and was making a lot of noise. We couldn’t get them back, though we tried for many long minutes. Nothing. My sense of something being there was completely gone.

Both of us were so stunned by the very obvious correlations, even when we tried to trick it, that we had nothing to say to each other. We walked in separate directions to try and figure out what just happened. That’s usually how we operate, trying to find some mind time to explain away something. And, we sometimes hope by dividing, whatever it is that it liked, it can follow that person alone.

I went down a hallway that met another hall. I stopped and felt compelled to just wait there. I felt something where the two halls converged and it wasn’t air circulating, it was that crackling, prickly, goosebumps up one side of my body feeling. I put the KII meter on the ground at my feet and watched it light up. I continued to watch it dancing with lights until the sense of “it” being there was gone. I looked down and the lights weren’t fluctuating anymore. I watched it and it was still for a long time, so I pushed it with my toe into the other hallway. Nothing. I watched it several minutes there without any activity. Just to see if the other hall had some kind of electrical issue, I pushed it back to the same original spot. Nothing. It was dead activity wise when before it was flickering madly. I leaned back and waited until I felt something coming down the hall again and causing a weird disruption in the feel of the space around me. It began to flicker up and down again. It danced for a minute as it passed me and stopped. It was dead for a long time, so I stopped that session.

The group decided to do a controlled EVP session in the main hall where the footsteps were heard. We all sat down along the walls and put our recorders down and called out questions occasionally and if anyone so much as shifted their weight or coughed, they had to announce it. I had the KII meter in the hall on the floor. We watched the light to see if more would light up. It was completely dead. About 15 minutes into the EVP session someone asked a question if they might be a child. My lights started up on the meter. We all stared at it and watched as a woman coaxed with a soothing voice. The lights went mad as she was calling to it. When she stopped, it went away. When she started again in a motherly voice, it went bonkers. We did this over and over again a good 5 minutes. Someone else asked a new question off the mark and the lights stopped completely for the rest of the 30-minute session.

The night was winding down, so my partner and I chose a room we felt might have some promise. It had high EMF readings around the periphery from office equipment. We sat down in some chairs in the center of the room after measuring with Gauss meter and the KII to find almost nonexistent EMF (baseline readings). We set it down and decided to talk for a while.

It seems that once you have personal conversation, it somehow coaxes the phenomenon forward. We talked about our lives and what’s going on with us and our hopes and goals and when talk became more personal, the lights began. We asked if it liked our conversation and wanted to join us. The lights went mad. We offered it to join us and asked if it ever felt like we did. The lights fluttered up and down again. We continued this little conversation for a good 5 minutes. Finally, we realized we had to end and leave the premises, so we told “it” that we had to leave. It went mad with the lights for a long time. I tried to talk gently and coax it to stop making the lights go nuts. I told it to move away from the device and the lights went off. I told it to come back and the lights went mad again. I tried this at weird intervals, waiting sometimes a few minutes between asking. Every time, it exactly correlated with immediate response. When we told it we truly had to leave, it went mad with the lights again. I told it that it needed to get some rest and to step away. The device stopped lighting. We thanked it and (hedging our bets in case spirits do actually exist) we told it that the people in this office might not hear it, but they know they’re there and are happy to have them nearby watching over them.

All in all, it was a very strange night. I’m a highly skeptical ghost hunter as it is, not letting emotions rule me. I do, however, open up to read a place and feel where energy is strange. This location had a quiet geomagnetic evening so that had me assuming it was lame. I wondered if my estimations that it took geomagnetic activity to have a good ghost hunt evening was off the mark. Then, I looked at the context in which we were hunting and one of the issues for the building was the amount of equipment in it and the EMF fields. If you have a building with a fairly high energy output, you might not need a geomagnetically active evening. But, if you are in an abandoned jail somewhere, you definitely need it. This confirmed for me that energy in general is essential and that might explain, as well, why waterways also might be vital to a good hunt.

I’m hoping to get the video I took of the session on my son’s Mac. His computer is just easier to deal with video—I hate Microsoft with a passion! If it came out, I hope to put it on YouTube and embed the video into a post this week. I still need to review the audio, but today’s my day off and I refuse to sit and listen to audio for hours.

Interdimensional Portals - What Are We Talking About Here?

At the time I took this picture (above), I had several years’ worth of photos that were similar stages of pink/blue/green lights in this one place in a cemetery. When this shot came across, I told myself it had to somehow be the lens because it’s round shaped. The other ones I had captured were hazes and literal arching rainbows from blue to pink colors. This one was so beautiful, I simply called the photo “portal.” But, it did make me start wondering why it only happened in this one spot and happened every single time I went there to photograph, changing in colors and features, but always showing something remarkable there. I tried EMF and temperature readings—nothing changed. I raced over and had a friend continue shooting it until it disappeared. Still, I found nothing but a strange sensation of the right side of my body getting goosebumps but not the left, a feeling of static electricity, and a slight smell of ozone. It did get me wondering about the concept of portals.

Whether you call them “Stargates,” “portals,” “vortexes,” or “wormholes,” the concept of interdimensional portals is a fantastic notion. According to Wikipedia these are described as usually consisting “of two or more gateways, with an object entering one gateway leaving via the other instantaneously. An advantage of portal technology over a faster-than-light drive is that it can be imagined to work instantly, and optionally to travel to the past or future, or to alternate universes.”

I’d be curious to see which of these explanations you tend to believe (assuming portals exist):

1. Time travel, giving us sense of déjà vu occasionally and sightings of futuristic "UFO" technology (our own future techonology), perhaps “alien” encounters(a possible future man on the evolutionary scale), and abduction for DNA.

2. Interplanetary travel, giving us UFO phenomenon and perhaps knowledge to the ancients for building pyramids and worshiping the stars, leaving behind crop circle messages.

3. Interdimensional travel giving us creatures from other dimensions such as Bigfoot, Mothman, Chupacbra, shadowpeople, and more.


If you're still interested in the concept, try these movies:

Contact (Jodie Foster’s character travels through space using a wormhole)

Phantasm (Dead people are shrunk down and sent through a portal to be slaves on another planet)

Stargate (An ancient “machine” is reconstructed and used to enter other worlds)

The Time Machine (H.G. Wells fantastic story of a man building a time machine)

The Mist (Perhaps the creepiest concept and most realistic of the government opening a portal and creatures coming through)

Portals For Otherworld Beings?

I’m in the dark and spooky Halloween mood, so I thought I’d write about something that should unsettle you.

I caught an article today about Bigfoot leaving some impressive footprints in the Bridgewater Triangle. I wrote about this area in a post not too long ago, one of those strange places in the world that seems to be filled with weird stuff. The geology does seem ideal for a portal of strangeness. That being said, I reviewed some of the other places around North America known for strange creatures and weird encounters. It had me wondering about the concept of portals for otherworldly beings.

My first real introduction to this concept was when I read the super creepy book “Hunt For the Skinwalkers” about a ranch in NE Utah that supposedly had everything from UFOs to strange otherworldly creatures, portals, and just about every kind of paranormal activity one can imagine. Here’s a passage from the book I found to be one of the most horrifying things I’ve ever read:

Page 145: (Mike and Jim were observing a light in the distance). Mike uses the binoculars) Jim looked carefully at the light below. It had now expanded to more than two feet. Something that big should definitely register on film. “Oh my God,” Mike said suddenly, thoroughly frightened. “There is a black creature climbing out. I see his head.” Jim felt alarm. His companion was plainly bordering on panic. “It has no face.” Mike whispered…it’s on the ground,” he said. “Oh my God, it walked away.”

Places that report such occurrences are not that rare. Just some famous locations in the US include the Pine Barrens of New Jersey and the Jersey Devil sightings, Point Pleasant in West Virginia and the Mothman sightings, the Bridgewater Triangle and its Bigfoot sightings, as well as the Skinwalker ranch. Mexico reports flying humanoids. Peru has Nazca lines for aerial beings of uncertain origin.

Is it in human nature to what to have visitations from human-like beings from the sky who leave crop circles, educate primitive man to build pyramids, warn of impending doom, or simply scare the bejesus out of us? Or, are these legends based on some truth that we have yet to face, something we only glimpse occasionally but is always there? The truth that our world is not ours alone. Perhaps our worldis everyone's,including those who go in and out of physicality in which we can perceive them momentarily.

To learn more about some of these reports, here’s some good links.
Bridgewater Triangle Bigfoot
Jersey Devil
Skinwalker Ranch
Mothman
Flying Humanoids
Nazca Lines

Cemeteries: Not Just For Ghost Hunting

I've long held a love for cemeteries. It's not like I'm depressing and morbid. In fact, I'm a ridiculously deliriously perky person, but cemeteries are something different from the rest of our world; quiet sanctuaries. They're urban parks that don't involve mountain bikes and dog walkers. They're silent open-air art exhibits that make you stop and think. You contemplate every headstone you see and what that person was like, who visited them and left those flowers after so many years later,and what do you want on your own headstone?

Cemeteries are picturesque and sometimes creepy, solemn and sometimes cheerful. And really good photographers know how to capture all those moods. In fact, I came across a local photographer here in Phoenix, Julie Foskett. She does unique things (like the beautiful photos above). A young engaged couple wanted their photos to express their unusual Tim Burton-esque wedding, so they had Julie photograph them in a pastoral Catholic Cemetery called St. Francis (one of my favorite places to take pictures).

I'm pleased to give her link so you can see more of the couple's beautiful and moody pictures.

Next time you're thinking of cemeteries as just places to store loved ones once they pass or creep around to try and obtain EVPs at midnight, remember that they're also gothic backdrops for fantastic portraits and meaningful commentary.

They might just make your next Christmas cards one in a million!

Real Life Stranger Than Fiction

I was watching TV while using my laptop to edit my manuscript (I really need to stop doing that, the TV is very distracting). Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something on the screen and I thought, "Is Peter Pan coming back to town again at the college theater?" Then, I looked up and saw it full-on. It was a photo of Michael Jackson. It dawned on me then how much this man worked to become a boy in Neverland. Even his face was altered to look as much like his idol as possible and he tried very hard for many years to fill his home with a ragtag band of unwanted unloved boys.

Sometimes, reality is weirder than fiction. So much torment in the soul from a young age, so much self loathing and repressed anger. It makes you wonder what sort of spirit Michael Jackson would have and just what he would haunt. I'd guess he'd stay away from Neverland--bad memories. He probably would want to be around his kids, but I suspect that having them around his mom might make him uncomfortable--too much like watching his own awful childhood again.

Where do you think Michael Jackson would haunt?

Think Tank: Crop Circles

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Above: Supposed film of a crop circle being formed by flying objects)

This is a new line of posts I’m doing based on the idea that conspiracy theories and interesting phenomenon make for great banter back and forth. Since I have some of the most intelligent followers on this blog, I figured maybe we should do a think tank every now and then. I’ll bring up a subject and info about it. You guys come up with theories to explain it.

Today’s subject: CROP CIRCLES

Basics: As early as the 17th century in England it was written about a “mowing devil” that beat down crops. The 1970s found a rise in crop circles. From Wikipedia “Notably also, the crop generally continues to ripen in a 'genuine' circle, being laid flat rather than broken. Some researchers have found that the corn appears to have bent at the nodes of the stalks, showing that can only be replicated in the lab using a microwave oven. In rarer cases, this has occurred near the top of the stems, not the bottom, all but ruling out human involvement.” Also from Wikipedia, “Crop circle maker John Lundberg, in an interview with Mark Pilkington, spoke about this change in crop circle designs: "I am rather envious of circlemakers in other countries. Expectations about the size and complexity of formations that appear in the UK are now very high, whereas the rather shabby looking Russian formation made the national news.”

Let’s talk about the most popular explanations. Please comment and let me know what you think on the subject and any theories you might have or if you might have another alternative. This is our think-tank time.

1. Man-made. Hoaxers such as Doug Bower, Dave Chorley, and John Lundberg. have shown how with ropes and a board, they can press down these elaborate shapes. Competitions have even been held. But, let’s remember that although a person can make the sounds of footsteps, so can phenomenon when no one is around. That doesn’t mean all footsteps come from a person wearing shoes and walking in the room at the present moment.
2. Ball lightning or whirlwinds/tornadoes. Perhaps the most ludicrous of all explanations—the patterns aren’t random as found in nature or plainly curlicue as in a whirlwinds scrolling scars.
3. Alien spacecraft creations. These are believed to be messages from “above.” That they would use such an archaic and unintelligible method to converse is akin to humans visiting great apes in Africa and using Morse code and tapping on trees to say “hello.”

Saturn's Suspicious Interloper!

I wonder if it's our own space debris or something alien in Saturn's rings. It's an interesting picture and article. Check it out here.

"Weird USA" - Paranormal Bible

People ask me all the time what kind of books I have on my shelf that pertain to the unknown. I have quite a few obscure ones, but the one I consider to be the necessity on any shelf, the veritable Bible of the Creepy is “Weird USA” by Mark Moran and Mark Sceurman. They’ve since branched out to do individual states in the weird series which would be a second choice to add to your collection after this classic.

This book is such a fascinating read, you might consider it your toilet reader. Yeah, lots of short stories that you can pick up and turn to any page and read within minutes. Do Americans still have shitter readers? I’m a child from the 60s/70s, so I do recall the Reader’s Digest sufficed, as did some books written specifically for the purpose of short reads in the can. In my childhood, that was the early version of multitasking since we didn't have home computers and cell phone texting.

Just some of the things covered in this exciting and spine-tingling book are; The Bunnyman Bridge, The Philadelphia Experiment, The Hideous Melon Heads, Albino Village, Hookerman Lights, Winchester Mystery Home, The Devil’s Road and the Cult House, The Portal to Hell is Down in the Grove, Curse of the Bell Witch, and so many more that it’s impossible to count. I saw that Amazon right now advertises used versions for as low as $8 and it’s worth the amount over many times.

If you read through this book and don’t decide to make a local trip to one of the weird sites listed, I’ll be shocked. If you want to know “what do we do in the way of weird in Nebraska?” this book will help you. The individual state ones can give you many road trip vacations within your own state to the weird, eccentric, and paranormal and make for one memorable vacation.

If you have only one paranormal book on your shelves, this guy’s the one.

Ghost Hunters - What's You're Take On This?

I admit that I was impressed with TAPS right from the beginning because they were doing ghost hunting the way I was doing it--with the left brain. I've never once doubted that what they come across is unique and interesting and sometimes downright amazing. Once it's all gone through the filter of debunking, I'm pretty happy with the results.

My only doubts about their findings began when they moved into their own office in the second season. Only a tiny threat of concern. Then, the magazine was launched, the lecture tour, the live 6-hour Halloween episodes, the t-shirts and all the trimmings.

Then at the finale of this last season, I got a "Billy Mays" moment when they showed off their new "haunted inn" they bought. A very brilliant use of their media-induced money to keep them going forever as the friendly hosts of a just-happens-to-be-haunted inn. I can see retirement around the corner and a long happy lecture tour. As they drove off on their nice new snow mobiles, I looked at Jason and Grant in a strange way, with a pit in my stomach. By Billy Mays moment, I mean, I feel like I just found out something about them that ruins my image of them.

How does one stop a media machine once it's begun?

I came across this debunker's video (above) and although I don't tend to be pleased with most skeptic's viewpoints, this made me look at the incident that I considered to be genuine in a new way. When you're watching it curled up at night, you don't take note of the context in which it's filmed, but this clip makes you do just that. Other video shows that Halloween 2008 episode at Ft. Delaware in a new light, as well. The cast is standing around waiting during commercial break to begin to walk and look as though they're hunting.

Sadly, the message in all of this is the same one I was faced with in 1972 when I recorded the footsteps on my stairs, there's simply no way to prove authenticity or hoax. So long as there is a seed of doubt, no one is going to buy any "proof" of ghosts. With that being said, I continue along the same lines I have always followed, being skeptical, debunking, and asking for a very high level of confidence in my evidence. Ultimately, I remind myself, this isn't about proving ghosts to others, it's about satisfying my own questions about the phenomenon. That, too, is what the original ghost hunters, Jason and Grant, should do to keep their heads level.

At the end of the day, no matter what the media bus-ride has caused Jason and Grant to do or not do, they will know whether evidence they gather is genuine or not and whether they should even "play" at hunting anymore or not. Their first commitment should be to the venture they began before SciFi (SyFy) ever contacted them - the desire to learn more about phenomenon. Yeah, back when Jason and his wife would argue about his money going into ghost hunting and complain about his time away from the family of five. If there is more importance on the quality of the show versus looking for proof, then they should admit they're nothing more than an entertainment show and not a research team.

For now, I'll still follow them. They get access to places most of us only dream of. I've always had a very high level of trust in Jason and Grant, but like a family member who's been bamboozled, some of the bloom has worn off and I'm a bit wary just which Jason and Grant I'm viewing. In those pleasant moments when they shoot the breeze with unseen entities, I'll let my guard down and enjoy the interactions. The show was, after all, based on a team with a lot of sound techniques and a couple of guys who obviously like each other's company and don't play up homeowners for emotions unlike "Paranormal State" that tries to frenzy them into a crying fest.

The reasons I respect J&G are still the same, but when I turn my eyes onto the film crew following them and the producer poking around, I'll definitely be extremely skeptical of SyFy's staff and let my respect for G&J stand by the merit of what I've seen them do for the industry thus far in the realm of science and debunking.

Just as I wouldn't let one piece of evidence prove a haunting, I'm not about to let one film (as above) throw the baby out with the bathwater.

Edgar Cayce: Where Did His Information Come From?

Everyone has certain people that impressed him or her from a young age. Maybe it’s Abe Lincoln, your Great Aunt who was still mobile at 100 years of age, or perhaps your minister. For me, people of interest likely didn’t let being ahead of their times or not fitting in with the local mentality keep them from being who they were; genuinely ahead of the curve. They let their ego's drop long enough to access unfiltered information and then used it judiciously.

Edgar Cayce was one of those people for me.

Of course, he was gone long before my time, but his name was often said with a murmured hush as if it were a naughty name or a name held in high reverence. It wasn’t until I was older that I realized it was the latter and not the former. So, my titillation for Edgar Cayce went from thinking him a forbidden bad boy to a prophet beyond compare.

The biggest lingering question I have is “where’d he get this information?”

This simple man was born in Kentucky in 1877, and passed away in Virginia in 1945, living during a time period before the “new age” ideals. Some say this prophet and healer, who was also a devout Christian, was accessing information from Akashic records (see my earlier post for more info on this), and others say he was psychic and channeling information from “the other side,” perhaps from a wise spirit guide, yet others believe he had a direct line to God.

Most have come to the conclusion that his ability to access information began with a blow to the back of the head as an adolescent.

For some background, we’ll look to the Edgar Cayce Organization and their description; “Edgar Cayce demonstrated the uncanny ability to put himself into some kind of self-induced sleep state by lying down on a couch, closing his eyes, and folding his hands over his stomach. This state of relaxation and meditation enabled him to place his mind in contact with all time and space. From this state he could respond to questions as diverse as, "What are the secrets of the universe?" to "How can I remove a wart?" His responses to these questions came to be called "readings" and contain insights so valuable that even to this day individuals have found practical help for everything from maintaining a well-balanced diet and improving human relationships to overcoming life-threatening illnesses and experiencing a closer walk with God.”

Although not educated in medicine, this man was able to diagnose and prescribe treatments to patients who came to him seeking readings. He also made an enormous amount of predictions about our world that have become uncannily accurate over time such as the stock market crash, the first and second World Wars, the Holocaust, and he event predicted our changing earth poles around the year 2000. He believed in reincarnation, as well as Atlantis.

He predicted for us many earth changes that are significant. He also predicted we would come across hidden stored information exposed in Egypt (beneath the paws of the Sphinx in a chamber), Bimini, and Yucatan, but this will not be found until we reach the appropriate level of consciousness.

Let’s look at him within the context of his life and times. This was a man who didn’t take well to books, who was brought up in a very devout Christian home, in a time period of great conservatism, with no spiritualists at his beck and call. The very last thing a person of simple mind, simple means, and simple needs would desire is to be thrust forward into a world of medicine and predictions, neither of which he had any personal knowledge of.

This brings us back to the context in which he began his readings, the blow to the head. Should this be an injury resulting in epilepsy from the visual cortex in the back of the head where he was hit, it would certainly be an interesting brand, as he could induce his meditative state at will and epilepsy, quite obviously, is not a controlled event. From descriptions of his meditative state, it would appear he was accessing the theta mind state which is also associated with remote viewing. Had he used this technique but was able to drift through time instead of places on earth? Why would a blow to the head necessarily bless him with a direct line to God? Hmm...

I’d very much like to hear your take on Edgar Cayce and where you think he was getting his information.

Where The Wild Things Are

October 16th--mark your calendars.

I loved reading this book to my son when he was little (oh hell, by 3 years of age, he was reading it to me), but anyways, I had doubts about a live action film based on this fantastic Maurice Sendak book. Boy, was I wrong. I can tell by this trailer, this will not only be my favorite movie of all time, but one I watch often to remind me to live, love, laugh, and let go.

I'm counting the days until it comes out, hope you are too.

A Dead Body Climbed on Top of Me

This popular expression (title above) is used amongst Mexican teenagers who appear to have sleep paralysis an extraordinary high rate. One study done of three high schools showed that 92.5% of the children had experienced this.

The study showed these findings: In the vast majority of the cases, the students said they can't move (85.5%); there was an inability to speak in 72.6% of the events; chest oppression was felt 43.5% of the time; and there was a sense of a presence in 46.8% of cases. Hallucinations were also common: visual hallucinations were reported in 29% of the events, audible hallucinations in 24.2%, and tactile hallucinations in 12.9%.

I find this very interesting that such an enormous majority of youth have experienced sleep paralysis. In my recent studies for the post I just did on the subject a few days ago, it came to my attention that reports of alien abductions and sleep paralysis marry each other well. However, upon realizing that a place such as Mexico, which has an enormous amount of UFO reportings and flying humanoids, has such a high incidence of sleep paralysis, I had to wonder.

In the theory department my brain gets spinning and I wonder. If I were an alien visiting the earth and wanting for whatever reasons of curiosity or genetics to abduct people, why not take advantage of their sleep state? During sleep, the brain is already creating hallucinations and paralysis and we know that pineal gland that controls it is affected by geomagnetics. Why not enhance what’s already at use at a time when people will write it off as sleep issues? When you can manipulate deeper sleep in other occupants of the house? When everyone else will tell them it was just sleep dysfunction and not abduction? When someone won’t be missing because they should be in bed?

Just my perplexing thought of the day…

Akashic Records: Everywhere, Everything

Wikipedia explains this common term best as “a compendium of mystical knowledge encoded in a non-physical plane of existence. These records are described to contain all knowledge of human experience and the history of the cosmos. They are metaphorically described as a library and other analogues commonly found in discourse on the subject include a "universal computer" and the "Mind of God.”

Amazingly, although I’ve practiced psychic abilities since a very early age, I didn’t know much about the psychic world. I didn’t study up on anything psychic, other than to admire Edgar Cayce’s abilities, but with little knowledge of the examples of his work. I didn’t know popular terms for what I was able to do until I described it to psychic in a hushed voice of embarrassment with which she responded, “oh, that’s psychometry.” Suddenly, it had a name. It existed for others. I thought it was ridiculous to describe to someone that I could hold an object and it would contain memories. I certainly didn’t hear others talking about the talent. Thankfully, I’ve come a long way since my blushing ignorance. In my studies of the psychic world, I came across the term “Akashic records” many times and this intrigued me. So, as I do with all curious information, I chased its trail like a bloodhound.

You know how everyone knows about gravity? You drop something, it falls to the ground inevitably. You don’t think to ask folks, “hey, did you ever notice if you drop something, it wants to go to the ground?” Well, when I first heard about the Akashic records, I felt the same way. It was something I had always known, an accepted truth. I hadn’t gone around asking people, “hey, did you know all the information that ever is or will be is contained somewhere?”

Did Nostradamus and Edgar Cayce peruse these vaults of knowledge and if so, how? We know the capacity of the mind to perform remote viewings when in the theta state, to have hallucinations in the sleep state, and I certainly know of the mind’s ability to read objects and information from a source that to me I describe as “Akashic records,” for lack of better explanation. When I do a reading, I’m gathering knowledge that is familiar to me, as if it was always there, I’m just finally looking at it. Kind of like owning a book and finally flipping through the pages. The book was always on the shelf, it just hadn’t been referred to.

When some believe that accessing the records is a holy experience and one in which a person must prove himself worthy of the knowledge, I believe it’s floating out there, part of our universal DNA, part of me and you and every object, but the accessing part of it is what baffles many people. It’s like asking a colorblind person to please pick the blue dress—it’s a foreign concept to most. The best I can describe is that it involves letting yourself, your ego, your identity go and letting things float into your blank slate and fill you up with someone else's knowledge.

How one goes about this can vary. Many people say they can only access the Akashic records through deep meditation or prayer. Others, like myself, simply quite blocking the information. For the most part, humans protect themselves by psychic encroachment by putting up barriers to things we don’t want to see or hear or deal with right now—we have enough on our plate. When a psychic reading is done, those barriers come down and we simply “know” something. It is fact. It is already done, even if it’s something in the future. That’s how you know it’s a psychic enlightenment versus your make believe. It simply is, without good, bad, or judgment. You simply know. For a read to go well, it’s ideal if I don’t know someone because then nothing about my intellect gets in the way and I can open up and simply let their knowledge filter into me and it becomes my knowledge as if it’s my own memory.

Earlier concepts of the Akashic records being something like a library of knowledge, an ancient tome, or some other typically 3-dimensional concept is archaic. The knowledge is simply floating through us every day and we don’t often stop and gather it. A brilliant scientist, a clever inventor, or a man creating a new jingle for a commercial all my access it for one brief second to come up with a truly inspiring piece of work. Look at art, read a book, listen to music and see if you can find those who have been inspired by moments when their walls came down and Akashic knowledge was accessed.

I hope to follow this post up with one about Edgar Cayce, someone I’ve always admired.

Monsterquest Flying Humanoids Airs Saturday

The episode about flying humanoids that was soooo cool and disturbing is replaying on History Channel at 2 pm on Saturday the 8th (tomorrow). Be sure to tape it, it's worth keeping.

Post-Apocalyptic Movies

Since I decided to re-theme my Halloween party this year from “Dancing in the Graveyard” to “Post-Apocalyptic Graveyard,” I’ve had fun designing the stray and trashy stuff that’ll litter the yard and the creepy leftover doll parts garden and the cemetery, but what’s really fun is looking for inspiration in movies. Since it’s too freakin’ hot in AZ to do anything outside, I’m limited to reviewing Post-Apocalyptic movies for prop and costume ideas. I forgot how many great ones are out there.

I found this genre can be categorized even further, so hopefully this will help you find the one that suits your mood:

“The Bad, the Badder, and The Baddest” (These are about too little resources and too much lawlessness):

“Mad Max”
“Escape from New York”
“Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome”
“Red Dawn” (my favorite)


“Zombie” (The citizens just aren’t what they used to be)

“Resident Evil”
“Omega Man” (my favorite)
“28 Days Later”
“Dawn of the Dead”
“I am Legend”


“Toxic Badlands” (Planet ain’t too habitable anymore)

“Waterworld”
“A Boy and His Dog”
“Reign of Fire” (my favorite)


“New World Order” (Things are gonna have to change)

“Soylent Green”
“12 Monkeys”
“Logan’s Run”
“Planet of the Apes” (my favorite)
“Children of Men”

Sleep Paralysis: Moving Between Two Worlds

The description in Wikipedia best simplifies the strange phenomenon known as sleep paralysis, “Sleep paralysis occurs when the brain awakes from a REM state, but the body paralysis persists. This leaves the person fully conscious, but unable to move. The paralysis can last from several seconds to several minutes after which the individual may experience panic symptoms and the realization that the distorted perceptions were false.”

You know that movie “The Matrix?” That’s what I compare this to,it’s like waking up and realizing you’ve been living in a fake universe and you suddenly glimpse the real one and it freaks you out.

The symptoms of sleep paralysis include sensations of noises, smells, levitation, paralysis, terror, and images of frightening intruders.

Here’s some things that have been discovered about this phenomenon: It occurs more often in people who have had panic attacks, it tends to run in families, it is often associated with “hag syndrome” or the sensation of someone sitting on one’s chest, often involves the sensation of someone being present with you, sometimes gives an out-of-body experience, it is rarely linked to any deep psychological problems, and about 4 out of 10 people experience this phenomenon.

What might exacerbate it? Lack of sleep, sleep schedule changes, stress or bipolar disorder, sleeping on your back, restless legs or narcolepsy, some medications, and substance abuse.

Your best bet for beating this is to get regular patterned sleeping habits, reducing stress, exercising, and trying not to sleep on your back (it helps if you use a tall pillow so you’re more apt to sleep on your side).

If you’ve experienced this phenomenon, consider yourself someone who’s undergone something rather paranormal-like. It certainly makes for a terrifying short story. Here’s an example of the one that I can still remember to this day that horrified me so much that I became fixated on end-of-world movies and stories.

It’s my day off. I don’t feel like going to the beach, so I decide to veg-out. I lie down against a bunch of pillows I have tossed against the base of my couch, sinking into the plush old-fashioned shag carpet of my apartment. The TV, at my feet, is showing the usual LA morning talk shows. The speakers drone in their whiny voices as I fade into a light sleep. Lying on my back against the pillows, I open my eyes slightly to see words going across the screen, scrolling continuously. I try to move, but am completely unable. My arms and legs are weighted down, my eyes won’t open more than a slit. The writing is fuzzy. My face feels weird, like it’s melting. I can’t open my mouth to speak. I try desperately to read the scrolling. Why do I feel so weird? What happened? What’s that scrolling saying? My mind interprets it as the TV showing emergency shelter locations for my area. I am desperate to read where those in Redondo Beach go, but I can’t make out the words. My body won’t work, my mouth won’t work. I must be irradiated. They dropped the bomb! I’ll never make it to a shelter now. I will all my power into moving or speaking or opening my eyes to see better. I collapsed back against the pillows and give up. Even if I made it to a shelter, I’d be dead from the radiation. I give in to death.

It must have been only seconds later that sleep gave up its hold and I opened my eyes and realized the show was over and scrolling the credits. I looked around me and out the window to see the normal world. I studied my face in the mirror. It felt so absolutely real and I felt as though I had just given in to death. I’m trembling, but I’m alive. I feel like I had a second chance.

Many times the elements of what the eyes are seeing are incorporated into the semi-dream state and they can be quite distorting. Occasionally, I see a face leaning over me that’s gray with large dark eyes (alien-like). When I do finally become fully alert, I realize I’m looking at the patterns of light and dark in the room and making a face from it.

The mind doesn’t know the difference between a fantasy and reality, it will react accordingly with arousal, tension, or peace. I learned that lesson that day and I also learned to try to avoid sleeping on my back. I bought a tall pillow and avoided that position as often as possible. Over the years, several more times I’d have this phenomenon, each time I was sleeping on my back.

Just remember, most everyone will have this happen at some point, waking up during paralysis. It’s necessary for the body to undergo this state while dreaming (to keep us from running about the house and acting out our fantasies). Still, if you wake up during it, it’s like waking up in Christopher Reeve’s body and a sense of being held captive; the brain on, the body off.

You’ll probably remember your sleep paralysis events the rest of your life. They leave quite an impression. I like to consider them as an interesting learning tool about what the mind is capable of and the alternate realities that exist when we dance between the mystical dream world and the practical awake one. Marrying the two together is bound to cause some very surreal experiences.

Happy dreams!

Check Your Dreams Tonight

Just curiosity and a bit of study on geomagnetic effects on the sleep state. Geomagnetic fields are unsettled right now, just wondering if last night or tonight folks have strange sleep states. On a lighter note, if you have a place that looks geologically and structurally good for a haunting, this might be a good night to do a ghost study.

Encounters of the Embarrassingly Explainable

(Above: Nothing magical there, it's a shot of sprinklers going off and hairs dangling.)

Every ghost hunter has to go through it, those moments of thrill and excitement, burst of adrenalin, and then the resulting deflating of one’s enthusiasm by explainable means.

I’m talking about the awkward and embarrassing debunking in the infancy of ghost hunting. Yup, we all have to experience it. Some, like Zak Bagans, don't seem to do the debunking or learn much, so they still look like asses, but some of us really care about the credibility of what we find, so we're willing to look stupid at first, but ask questions and seek answers so we look smarter in the future. Now, I’m a highly skeptical person and it takes a lot to impress me because everything has to go through my bullshit-filter (my noggin). I try never to let my body sensations or emotions guide me on a site. There's just no room for that when you want to gather proof and debunk. You have to stay icy and you have to stay critical, but it pays off when you find the truly unexplainable.

Admittedly, when I first started actively hunting in 2003, I went forth with such enthusiasm, expecting to encounter lots of what I encountered when I was growing up, so every sound, every photograph, every experience seemed to have merit. Then, my logic stepped in and I found that the unexplainable is very rare. Even when it is explainable without great specificity, it can still be explainable, such as something falling over in an abandoned building; I might not find out what object, but I can guess the pile of crap against the back wall might have shifted.

That being said, here’s some hilariously naïve and adorable things I did in my first year and what I learned from them:

A beautiful auburn-colored streak across my photograph had me studying its shape—looked like a long tube with little circles inside of it. It could be a vortex, perhaps some kind of shooting energy. Nope. It was one of my long hairs dancing in the wind. (Lesson: Tie my long hair back).

Gorgeous spiral showed up on a photo taken at an old gravesite. Looked so beautiful and had a wonderful funnel-shaped look to it. Spiral ended up being my camera strap. (Lesson: Remove all straps from cameras henceforth).

Taking shots towards a couple in a graveyard having a drunken argument about sex and money (in other words, the classic American couples fight). I shot pictures, thinking maybe their emotions would stir things up. Tons and tons of orbs looked like they were barreling towards me. My son who was wandering around the cemetery announced that the orbs were actually the dust that occurred when the woman got in the car and sped off, leaving the guy alone in the dirt lot. (Lesson: Orbs are not energy, they are tiny particles of dust, pollen, moisture—stop naming them and saving them and looking for meaning in their pretty glow).

Upon going to a cemetery before twilight, I parked my car near the gates and wandered around with my son taking pictures, doing EVPs, filming… Before dark, the caretaker locked all the gates, leaving us to have to climb the tall fences and walk through a bad part of town to find a phone. (Lesson: Carry a cell phone even though I loathe the things and park outside the gate or halfway through so he can’t close it).

Investigating someone’s home, I get a scratching sound every time I speak. I’m certain this is contact of some kind. My skin begins to prickle and I get excited. This is it! I keep asking questions, keep getting a scratching. The owner comes into the room to see how things are progressing and I show her an example. She smiles and says, “Oh sorry, I thought leaving Bo gated up in the kitchen would be enough, apparently he needs to be in the yard.” She goes to let her Cocker Spaniel out of the gated kitchen where he’s been scratching on the gate, hoping the person talking to him will let him out. (Lesson: Investigate the house and its sounds first so you’re familiar with what should be there and shouldn’t).

Everyone in ghost hunting has those wonderfully embarrassing stories of chasing something in the dark and finding out it's a rat, getting arrested for trespassing and having to explain they were ghost hunting, or feeling a chill when the air-conditioner turns on. Don't beat yourself up, there's a learning curve. Hopefully other people's stories and watching shows like "Ghost Hunters" can hasten the pace of your learning. For me, "Ghost Hunters" wasn't out on TV yet and there weren't any debunkers running around at the time, so I had to figure it out on my own. All I can say is stay skeptical, believe everything is explainable so you approach it that way, and always spend enough time in a site to know its sounds and feels well, as well as knowing if power is on or the windows are open.

I still do stupid things upon occasion even now after over six years of doing it. My friends tend to compare me to a big gallopping puppy. My enthusiasm and energy are boundless, my excitement and childish glee are high, my sense of humor is bawdy, but when it comes down to the moment of proof-gathering, I can be the most focused team member.

The kid inside me still goes to all the hunts, but the adult supervises.

The Holographic Universe

To simplify this concept, I’ll quote from Wikipedia “The Holographic Universe is a book by Michael Coleman Talbot exploring the idea that the universe is a hologram. After examining the work of physicist David Bohm and neurophysiologist Karl Pribram, both of whom independently arrived at holographic theories or models of the universe, the book argues that a holographic model could explain various paranormal and anomalous phenomena, and provide a basis for mystical experience.”

Physicist Alain Aspect performed an experiment in Paris that might have helped to verify this theory when he and his team discovered that under certain circumstances subatomic particles such as electrons are able to instantaneously communicate with each other regardless of the distance separating them. It doesn't matter whether they are 10 feet or 10 billion miles apart. This particular bit of information intrigued me as someone with PSI skills. Is it possible that they found out what the link is between me and the item I’m reading? Is it the passage of information between electrons? Then, could a home with a residual haunting be bombarded by electrons that carry messages from the original processes of that information, the deceased?

From this website (which gives a good description of the theory) we get this explanation “To make a hologram, the object to be photographed is first bathed in the light of a laser beam. Then a second laser beam is bounced off the reflected light of the first and the resulting interference pattern (the area where the two laser beams commingle) is captured on film. When the film is developed, it looks like a meaningless swirl of light and dark lines. But as soon as the developed film is illuminated by another laser beam, a three-dimensional image of the original object appears. The three-dimensionality of such images is not the only remarkable characteristic of holograms. If a hologram of a rose is cut in half and then illuminated by a laser, each half will still be found to contain the entire image of the rose. Indeed, even if the halves are divided again, each snippet of film will always be found to contain a smaller but intact version of the original image. Unlike normal photographs, every part of a hologram contains all the information possessed by the whole. The ‘whole in every part’ nature of a hologram provides us with an entirely new way of understanding organization and order. For most of its history, Western science has labored under the bias that the best way to understand a physical phenomenon, whether a frog or an atom, is to dissect it and study its respective parts. A hologram teaches us that some things in the universe may not lend themselves to this approach. If we try to take apart something constructed holographically, we will not get the pieces of which it is made, we will only get smaller wholes.”

I’m always up for a new way to look at the universe, to open my mind, to realize I don’t know absolutes, only theories. I like this concept of the universe because it creates a connectedness to everything else in which each part contains the whole. I’ve always enjoyed the concept that within our body, each cell has memories. Should you donate an organ, you are giving information from your own existence to someone else. I know from holding objects that they can retain a good deal of information and that transference, although not explainable yet by science, is to me proof that we intermingle on levels we never conceived of before. That when a spiritualist says “we are all connected, we are the trees, the sky, and other people,” it could be quite literal.

In one of my much earlier posts, I proposed my concept of the universe as "we are all cells." That, when you fly over your town, you realize you go from being an ant on the ground to an ant in a colony neighborhood to an ant in a city to an ant in country, but day to day you only see yourself and other ants and rarely see that you're a neighborhood per se. That, perhaps the Earth is a cell, as are other planets, but part of something larger. Like cells in a body can't tell they're part of a human, they think their world exists of them and other cells, but cannot see the bigger thing they are a part of. That perhaps our Earth is a cell in something so much larger that we only see other planets as companions but do not see the larger unit we build.

Okay, I'm still on the stimulating-your-brain-at-midweek phase. I promise some lighthearted fluff tomorrow.

Poltergeists: Signs of a Residual Imprinting Itself?

In my studies of 50 haunted sites to find similarities and conditions that are ideal for a haunting to be laid down, I discovered geology and the structure of the building, as well a history of trauma/death can be the strongest factors in creating an ideal site for a haunting.

My curiosity got the better of me when I was recalling a residual haunting in our home when I was growing up, one that was laid down by my sister when she would get angry and pound on the walls and scream. It made me begin to wonder what happens in the environment the moment a residual is laid down. Do extreme emotions in the right environment lay down the tract for a residual haunting?

Consider this, poltergeist activity is strongly tied to adolescents and adults with a good deal of repressed emotions and difficulties. If this kind of telekinetic energy can transfer to objects and cause motion, what does it do to the walls and floors of the environment? Could poltergeist activity be the telltale sign that a residual haunting is being imprinted in the environment?

Are residual hauntings laid down in times of great emotion and begin with what appears to be poltergeist activity because of the altering of surroundings by emotional transference?

This made me consider the residual hauntings that most people witness which involve footsteps and walking patterns that were obviously played over and over in the environment over many hours, many days, many weeks, many years, something so repetitive, like footsteps up the stairs at Aspen Grove, that they imprinted themselves. There was not a particular burst of strong emotion in such an instance, but more a human whose brain was active and emotions were present, repeating something mindlessly over and over again which over time could potentially leave an imprint, just as when you dig enough into wood with your pencil you leave your initials. But, if you struck at the wood all at once with a hammer's claw, you'd get a gouging mark all at once.

Is this the way residuals are born?

I said to myself today, "Hey, it's Wednesday, let's make people wake up from their midweek zombie state and think." I'd love to hear your input on this theory.

The Entity Case

I have to admit that the movie “The Entity” caught my attention in the early 80s. I wasn’t tracking ghost phenomenon in my teen years (I wanted to fit in with the others), but I still enjoyed horror movies, so I rushed out to see this one. It was another (like Amityville) movie based on a “true story.” In 1978, author Frank De Felitta published a novel titled The Entity. In 1981, this extraordinary story became a movie.

The main character, “Carla Moran” was a single mother living in Culver City, California. Her case came to be known as one of the most horrific poltergeist occurrences ever. This woman was reportedly raped by a demon and held down by two smaller demons. Her son was beaten and hurt, as well. Some even witnessed the bruises on her skin and researchers claim to have seen lights and shapes forming in her bedroom.

Researchers from UCLA, Dr.’s Gaynor and Taff, decided to follow the case. They performed interviews with her, studied her home, and set up some cameras (see picture above). At one point, they actually saw a man’s shape forming with lightning-like fissures dancing from his frame until he became a full humanoid shape in a greenish white light, according to witnesses.

Since that time, many have speculated on what actually occurred in that delapitated home in Southern California in the 70s. Carla Moran was from an abusive family and had been with several abusive males, as well as having difficulties with her own sons. Some have speculated it was her teenaged son and other sons who held her down and raped her. Others speculated that her extreme emotional state of mind somehow manifested poltergeist activity. Of course, with her apparently having passed on from cancer now and so much time passing, we will never truly know what was at work, but we can speculate and apply some logic.

This case reminds me of many episodes of “A Haunting” on Discovery Channel. I have yet to see a story which doesn’t revolve around bad family dynamics. In fact, I know of no families I’ve investigated about ghostly issues that didn’t have big-time emotional issues going on. The old chicken or the egg dilemma; was it the emotions that produced energy or attracted bad energy ? Or was it the emotional state of the people within who created issues in their minds to explain their fearful and angry emotions, being able to blame it on something else other than themselves? The famous ghostly scapegoat?

In the case of “The Entity,” I’m more inclined to believe that the stress and strain of raising all these children alone with barely any income in squalid conditions, having been abused most of her life, this woman was not a beacon for some kind of demonic assault, but more than likely a victim of her own dysfunction and extreme stress.

I’ve given talks before about ghost hunting and one of the strangest questions I often get asked after speaking is, “can a ghost have sex with you?” My answer is emphatically, nope.

A little experiment I like to use is the lemon. Imagine seeing a lemon tree, picking a heavy lemon, feeling the bumpy waxy surface, smelling the clean acidic scent of it, and then biting into the flesh, juice spurting. Does your mouth water? If you have a halfway decent imagination, it will.

The mind doesn’t know the difference from reality and what you tell it, so people with precarious states of mind can believe anything they tell themselves and their bodies will react. If you’ve ever seen a scary movie and your heart pounded, you know that’s true. You weren’t being chased by a maniac, but your mind didn’t know any better. This is what I believe is at work when people have such extraordinary claims of poltergeist activity and ghostly encounters that include highly physical unions.

I wouldn’t let my lack of faith in this being a true ghostly story keep you from viewing the movie or reading the book, both are very well done and very chilling. But, just like movie stars have to get airbrushed, plastic surgery, and other enhancements to look good on the screen, just remember that “true stories” do, as well.

Halloween Costume 2009 -- Begins!

Yeah, it’s August and I’m designing my Halloween costume. I’m having a big party this year—finally! I’ve been waiting for a Halloween-Eve to be on a Friday and it finally happened!

Since the theme is “Dancing in the Graveyard” with live music and me being a ghost hunter, it seemed appropriate to go as a ghost hunter. But, I didn't want to just be any ordinary ghost hunter. I wanted something like "Resident Evil" meets post-apocalyptic ghost hunter chic (above photos are inspirations)

So far, I’ve ordered some Army surplus things like a strap-on canvas wrench holder to wear on my thigh strap and put a piece of ghost hunting equipment in, a Desert Storm brown long scarf to wrap around me, and some totally bitchin’ tiny round welding looking goggles. I’m hoping to find some good straps like are used on canteens and such for all the wrap around straps to hold the ghost hunting equipment. Of course, this Halloween I’ll have to get a shot of me in it once it’s all put together.

If anyone has any good input, please give it. I’m baffled how to get some of these looks to come across, especially the brown knit hose that are cut into garters. I like them—very sexy, just not sure how to go about it…

Suggestions always welcome.

Excerpt from SciFi Novel "MetaNet"

Years ago I came up with the notion of what would happen if a psychic and a scientist came together to discover the method by which communication with the dead occurred. What if from this encounter, they designed a machine that could talk to the other side? What would the social implications of this be, if we could now talk to our deceased relatives and know there is a heaven? The unification of a church, the end to religious-based wars, and the decidedly absent emotion of grief.

I’ve been meaning to get back to working on this novel, but it’s one of those things I’d like to work with someone with more scientific knowledge to give input. When the idea came to me, it poured out very quickly and without editing, so it’s rough, but here’s a sample scene in a nutshell.

David is a top engineer who designs the communication devices for the other side. These machines are controlled and owned by The Unified Church.. A woman contacts him and wants to talk secretly. She is a psychic. Her mother was the psychic who helped invent the machine and her father was the designer of the machine. This is their clandestine meeting:

It wasn’t a good day for David to be caught in the middle of some intrigue. Admittedly, Erika was a very desirable woman in a classically doll-like way. Not the type that usually drew his attention. He tended more towards the exotic or plump and friendly, but her petite body seemed so tightly contained, a very base part of him wondered what it would take to soften her pose, allow herself to unfurl.

Christ! It had definitely been too long since he’d been in a relationship. He wasn’t the type to just ease his tensions with a strange woman. He believed in relationships. They just didn’t believe in him.

Erika Thorsen sat alone at a table on the balcony level of the coffee shop. The crowd below was light, but then it was the end of summer and a time when coffee wasn’t quite so popular in the desert. He saw her slender legs immediately from below. She sat near the railing above, looking down, as if hoping to have the advantage of sighting him first.

She’d changed her clothes and was wearing a sundress that was soft and flattering, even though it did show her collarbone more than he’d like to see. Perhaps she one of those women who held everything in, allowing for no pleasures. Predictably, she was drinking a mineral water. She probably didn’t let herself sing to music, eat desserts, watch television for hours on end, or even experience orgasms.

Not a thought you should be pursuing.

Erika gazed up at him almost innocently, as if she hadn’t expected to see him. In the bright lighting, he could now see she wore a sprinkling of tan freckles across her nose. It was nearly endearing, if her eyes didn’t look so dark chocolate and all-knowingly wise. She nodded him towards the seat across from her.

David set down his cup and cookie. He broke it in half, offering her a portion. She stared at it as if she had never seen one before.

“Here, I don’t eat alone.” He muttered.

Curiously, he wondered what she would do with the cookie. She daintily plucked it from him and set it on a napkin. He was betting 10:1 the cookie would still be there by the end of this discussion.

“I appreciate you’re showing up Mr. McKeeley.”

“Please, call me David.”

She glanced around at the people below. The balcony was theirs alone so far and a perfectly safe setting for this mysterious daughter of a famous psychic to explain her purpose.

“I’m representing a group of people from around the world who have similar concerns about the MetaNet system and its safety.”

“Safety?”

“In your TV interview on the anniversary show, you voiced some concerns about why it appears people who’ve passed on don’t go to hell.” She prompted.

David blinked. “I like to keep The Unified Church thinking about all possibilities, but I assure you, I have no reason to believe we aren’t talking to spirits, if you will.”

“I agree. You are talking to spirits.” She smiled softly.

Like an eager teenager, he found himself smiling over her own softening expression. It was like a hard-earned reward from this oh-so-serious female.

“Do you know what happened to all the true talented psychics, following the launching of the MetaNet?” She asked.

He picked up his cookie, nervously nibbling on the edges of it.
Let her tell me.

“David, psychics aren’t allowed to practice anymore. Do you know why?”

“It’s my understanding the Unified Church is concerned about the possibility that people communicating with the spirit world would break the four rules.”

“That’s what they say.” She remarked. “Do you find that to be a valid point?”

“Miss Thorsen, Erika…” He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it scrambling across his forehead in a dark rumpled wave. “I’m not in the dark just because I work for MetaNet, a subsidiary of The Unified Church. I realize that people still seek out psychics on the sly. Are you concerned about releasing psychics from their hidden burden? I really wouldn’t have any say in that matter.” He pushed aside his napkin and drink, as if preparing to leave.

“No!” Erika slapped her hand on the table like a Catholic school nun. “There’s no easy way to say this, David, but there is one thing The Church overlooked in their urgency to move forward with the MetaNet.”

“More like a million things they didn’t consider, but tell me, what is the one you’re most concerned about?”

“It’s not just me. We’re a fairly representative group.”

“And you speak for them?” David asked.

“Yes, I do.”

He rested back in his seat now and waited for her to voice her group’s concerns.

“My mother, as you know, was a very gifted psychic.”

“And you?”

She nodded.

“So, life is much more difficult for you, isn’t it?” He asked. “Your mother was well respected, even revered for her skills, and you find yourself hiding in the shadows to practice your abilities.”

She nodded again. “I can’t practice, not officially. I’m a nurse.”

He smiled. The thought of this rigid woman as a nurse in a white uniform, giving comfort to people who were sickly seemed almost comical.

As if sensing his thoughts, Erika explained,” I work with the elderly in an assisted living facility. I focus my energies on healing.”

Studying the hard planes of her shoulders and her cheekbones, he wondered how someone so tiny and so angled could possibly give comfort. He imagined someone soft and easy to smile. But, what did he know of psychic skills other than it fascinated him that others could access postplasma without any devices. That kind of uncontrolled ability scared him as an engineer. He liked being able to contain and weigh and measure such exchanges.

“As I was saying, my mother was a very gifted psychic. She was so proud of her contributions to making the other side accessible to all people, and to finally proving once and for all that psychic abilities do exist and they’re accessing something very real. My mother, in her later years, just after the launch of the MetaNet realized a few things she wished she would have considered when embarking on this research with Salvatore. She had many regrets in her declining years.”

“Such as never telling Salvatore about his daughter?” He raised a brow.

Suddenly Erika seemed to shrink into herself even more, her gaze going down to her lap like a chastised child. She seemed so defeated, so beaten. How much of her concerns were about the system and how many were about the dynamics of her mother’s secret? It wasn’t until two years after Salvatore’s sudden death from a heart attack, did it get out to the public that a child was born from the union of the inventor and his psychic consult. A child in her vulnerable adolescence thrust into the spotlight of tabloids for a good few years. It was considered in many rag magazines that Salvatore was so caught up in his research after getting what he needed out of his psychic assistant, that he moved on to a jet-set life and never looked back to see what happened to the woman who was as much a part of his success as his own intelligence.

“I’m sorry, Erika.” He reached his hand across the table and attempted to scoop up her hand, but she withdrew her cold flesh quickly.

“It’s alright. I’m used to the talk. Regardless of my relationship with the creators of the Ouija One, I have some very valid concerns I’m representing. Why do you suppose The Unified Church should be so very frightened of psychics?”

He opened his mouth, but she didn’t allow a word.

“It’s really quite straightforward. They’re afraid because psychics can do something that apparently the MetaNet cannot do.”

“And that is?”

“Psychics have the ability to contact evil spirits, as well as benevolent spirits.”

David’s brow furrowed. He concentrated on her words. They were the missing piece. He wasn’t a religious man. Hell, he never stepped into a church, except for the requisite wedding or transition memorial. He felt something was wrong with the system and he always blamed it on the takeover by the Unified Church. It wasn’t until she hit him with this curve ball that it all began to make sense. Perhaps he was skeptical about the process of talking to the dead because it so reminded him of his sister he lost in adolescence. She had been lured by the Internet to meet a stranger. Her body was found weeks later along the border with Mexico. Years later, safeguards were put in place, but for a long time the Internet was an open prowling ground. He couldn’t help as an engineer comparing the MetaNet to the Internet and wondering what they would experience during these early years that could be cataclysmic.

“Christ!” He cursed under his breath, feeling the tension rise inside of him. He leaned forward on the table, his fists clenched.

“We’re concerned about purgatory.”

“Yes.” He nodded with nearly a groan, everything tumbling into place in his mind now.

“It would appear that people are unable to talk to those who committed suicide, but many good psychics have, indeed, contacted those in purgatory, and evil dwelling spirits locked into earthly locations or even earthly objects.”

“Yes.” He nodded quickly. “Purgatory doesn’t exist.” His voice was so soft, it barely came across the table and over the softly droning sounds of Muzak piping through the overhead speaker. He shouldn’t reveal the secret, but it tumbled from him without warning. “It’s church-driven. All people who die of suicide are on a lock-out list. They aren’t allowed into the system. Originally, it was to stop rebounding.”

After positive identification of consciousness after death, many elderly, sickly, and depressed people took their lives. The suicide count in the first three years was over 10,000,000 worldwide, so the church did what they had to in order to squelch the “rebounding” by announcing that those in purgatory could not be reached and to kill oneself was to remain out of contact with loved ones for an eternity. That solved one problem, but more unexpected things began to occur such as bleed-over voices that sounded angry and which The Church blamed on frequencies picking up radiowave signals. Of course, it was completely impossible, but it was just another secret David had to deal with when designing the communication devices.

“It makes perfect sense.” She sighed. “We knew they were lying about this, but we had no way to prove it without admitting we’re still practicing our skills as psychics. It was one of the main things that caused us to be so suspicious. We knew they were telling a giant lie. We’ve tested it many times.”

“So your concerns are in regards to evil spirits?”

“When you open up that world, you open up all of it. My mother, myself, many others, we have all encountered evil spirits, unpleasant ones, all the emotions you find in humans. We can warn people who live in a house that holds an evil spirit, we can get messages with ill intent, but MetaNet opens itself to that plane with no protections.”

Christ! We’re wide open!

“What evidence do you have that evil spirits connect with MetaNet?”

“Do you have a list of the people who murdered, led evil lives in the past?”

“Not in my pocket.”

He smiled.

She did not.

“People are talking to all their relatives, all the way back, many generations. Many people who did evil things; Cossacks, members of the SS, Hussein’s hit men, you name it.”

“Admittedly that’s true. Apparently, we can assume there’s some level of forgiveness if one asks upon joining the other side.”

“If that isn’t enough to make you shudder, consider this. There are evil spirits, demons that inhabit the spirit world.”

“Yes,” David interrupted. “That could very well be true if traditional religions are correct, but we certainly aren’t talking to these entities. I’d like to help you, Miss Thorsen, but-”

“Wait.” Erika insisted, pulling his hand, bringing him back down to sit, as he was trying to stand and leave.

“What about phantoms?” She whispered.

He eased back into his seat and pushed all his trash aside on the table so he could lean forward and clasp his hands in front of him. “Phantoms are glitches. We think it might be cross-talk.”

“You believe that?” She raised a skeptical brow.

He felt his face heat up as if he’d been caught in a lie he’d told so many times he believed it, that is until this woman looked into his eyes and seemed to realize his integrity was ulcerating his soul.

“They’re a rarity, but there’s no reason not to believe they aren’t just voices from this world bleeding through within a church’s visitation rooms.”

“From what I know of phantom voices, they bleed through and often contain angry messages, deep growling voices, and evil sounding intent. But, communications are cut off the moment any profanity or a louder than usual level of speaking is present on the system, so phantoms are brief and fleeting. Because of this, we really wouldn’t be able to better observe the phenomenon.” She told him. “We’d like you to observe it for us.”

“What?”

“If you do nothing after leaving here, at least get yourself on one of your monitoring machines and talk to the other side. Wait for the phantoms to come through and don’t block them. I know you have the capability.” She begged.

Everything inside him tightened quickly. He, himself, had never spoken to the other side. He had observed it hundreds of times, but never partaken in it. It would be the last great sell-out to The Church.

“I, don’t think that would be possible.”

“For God’s sake, David, you’re in R&D, if you can’t have a machine to yourself and no limits on its use, who can?”

She was right there. He was allowed unlimited use if he required in order to make the best decisions and best innovations. But to actually speak to the other side, he’d have to find a family member he wished to speak to and he had been avoiding that at all costs. To bring someone back to life after having grieved so many years ago? It was an impossible consideration. Once he got back in contact with a family member, how could he ever stop? And where would it end? For the rest of his life he’d be compelled to keep them alive and not grieve all over again. They’d both be slaved to the stilted conversations allowed by the Four Rules. He’d be no different than the masses who were slaves to the system.

“Find a relative you’ve never known, David, someone you won’t miss.”

“What?” He was startled from his thoughts.

Erika reached over and squeezed his hand. Her hand was no longer cold now, but warm, unusually warm. He stared at it as if it were burning him. Her smile was warm and comforting, and he realized she did have the abilities to heal with her hands. It explained to some extent why her body was hard poised angles. She had drawn in others illness, and they had drained her, as well. How much longer would she have vitality to offer her elderly patients? His whole arm began to weaken and feel as if it were floating warmly above the table. It had become an almost foreign object, separate from his body.

“I understand you don’t wish to talk to your family. I feel much the same. I don’t use the system, either. Just choose a distant relative you never met, someone you more than likely wouldn’t miss because they’re so different than you, so foreign to you. Do you know a relative like that?”

David pried his eyes from her hand and back to her softening face.

“Yes,” He cleared his throat. “My mother’s older brother, Bartholomew. She said he was an alcoholic and left home when he was young and never was heard from again. Apparently, he wandered homeless for many years and was in and out of institutions. I never met him.”

“Perfect.”

“Except, he killed himself.”

“Would he be listed in purgatory and therefore blocked by the system?”

“That’s doubtful. He killed himself 25 years ago. They weren’t tracking those things back then.”

“Good.”

He blinked, wanting to remove his hand from hers, but unable.

Erika let go all at once, leaving his hand in a strange kind of limbo that was warm and satisfying, much like the aftermath of making love.
What an odd sensation for a hand to feel.
He rubbed his fingers together as if to breathe a life into them that would make them his own again.

“Your tennis elbow needs more help.” She smiled as she stood up.

David looked down at his arm. The hand she had been holding was on his right side, his tennis elbow side. The elbow felt as warm as the rest of the arm, and not stressed by the extension and flexion movements, as it usually was.

“I tell you what, we’ll heal that elbow when we meet again and you tell me what you’ve discovered. We should be more covert, however.” She lifted her fingers from her purse and handed him a card. “My cell phone is on there, my e-mail address, my home phone number, the group’s secret website and our password, the officer’s names and positions, everything you could need. This card is very important and very private. Please do not leave it lying around.”

“I have a place for it.” He assured her.

"Thank you so much for meeting with me, listening to me .I think you have some of the same concerns.”

He nodded, unable to think of how to thank her for giving him a place to go, people to speak to who admit the flaws in the system. Although Peter, his colleague, was certainly a good voice of reason, he also loved his job, was enamored of his work, and didn’t want anything to jeopardize that passion. And David would never ask him to pick sides.

“I’m glad that you came to me, Erika. Had you spoken to mostly anyone else in R&D you would have been either narc’d on, or disregarded.”

“I knew I made the right choice. I could sense you’d be the one.”

He studied her face with a bit of concern. Had she somehow psychically honed in on him? What did his psyche reveal to a person who could pick up such intimate information? Surely, she’d realize he was not boyfriend material. There he went again, letting himself get distracted by her elusive beauty and quiet insistent charm. She wasn’t his type and yet at the same time she was a type that was new and exotic. A challenge, a puzzle, and also terrifyingly able to see through him. He’d spent a lot of years working for The Church and keeping all his doubts and concerns to himself. What would it mean to trust someone? To give a voice to his worries? Somehow he knew this woman was much more than just intriguing, she was also dangerous to his mental and professional well being.

Still, when have I ever done anything that’s good for me?

He drew himself up into a protective shell, once again. “I’ll contact you when I have something. I’ll call from a public phone. We can meet at a place of your choosing, and perhaps I could meet some of your people, as well.”

She sighed in relief. “That is exactly what I wanted to hear. The others are anxious to hear what transpired and I think they won’t trust you just on my word alone, they’d rather meet you and see for themselves.”

She turned and left down the stairs in a graceful decent that drew the eyes of many men in the café below. She seemed to be completely oblivious to the attention as she glided through the glass door and out into the stifling air of the Arizona desert.

David dropped some change on the table for a tip and looked around him. A couple moved up the stairs to take a table up above, as the lower level was finally becoming crowded in the evening. He made his way down the stairs, with his ever-present amount of paranoia focusing on the faces of the strangers around him to see if any look at him with recognition. So far, it would seem, their encounter was nothing of suspicion, but if he accessed a machine at work, at any time someone could come into his office, wonder why he was communicating, something he had never done before, and begin to wonder about his habits. He would have to become even more circumspect than usual.

It was worth it if it meant no longer being the only person he knew who wasn’t completely enamored of the system and had so much emotionally invested in The Church for visitations with the dead that he couldn’t see it objectively.

As a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, David stepped outside and took a deep breath of the furnace-like heat. Just then he realized another weight had been replaced on his shoulders; he would have to get on the system and talk to an uncle he never met, carry secrets, and work with an underground group that might jeopardize his very livelihood. Hell, he was looking forward to this. A decade of holding everything inside and acting normal had lost him a marriage and his own self respect. Now, he was ready to take risks again and feel alive. No more zombie engineer.

The old David McKeeley is back.