Castles in the Air

On the British satellite Eurobird, one of the channels I get is called "Controversial TV". They show the odd interviews from the Conscious Media Network with various aspiring alternative thinkers. Yesterday they aired one on Gary Schwartz and his extensive research with mediums. I'm inclined to give his observations credence as he does not allow the medium and the subject to interact, let alone see each other.

As he mentioned there are some mediums who cheat by empathically probing the person. There are also various body language gestures one can read of a person on visual contact, and emotional impressions one can pick up through smell (pheromones). Thus I am not so convinced of John Edwards regardless of what credence Schwartz gives him. Such cut and dried sessions as illustrated on "Crossing Over" leave me cold. It's as if to suggest that borderline state is like Grand Central Station with them all trying to make a collect call to the land of the living. I'm sure that without some serious editting, there's no way they could present it as anything acceptable to the audience.

We live in a gravitational node so flooded with energetic noise, perception is one thing, and distinction another. While I can sense out the presence of things otherworldly, whatever lies beyond the humanly present may only come to me in a brief instant upon that portal opening. A great deal of energy seems to issue from it, followed by a sudden dead silence as soon as it closes. I've had some pretty strange experiences with my father's passing, starting with the shadow fylgia that passed through me three days before he died. It was that part of him that died in the first stroke, probing my empathic bond to the rest of himself. I could feel it sucking up those energies, chilling me to the bone. I knew it was time to let go and I detached myself before it could leave me with that raw amputated feeling. When he finally passed there was little more than a sense of elation followed by brief emptiness in that part of what some might call the collective unconscious. A few days later I was at the computer when an odd feeling drew my attention to the hallway, catching a glimpse of a dark fleeting form. It raced from down the hall into my study, leaping into the air with a bound out the balcony door behind me. The ringer on a broken alarm clock went off and the TV switched itself on. I'm not sure what to make of such things, but then his behaviour always inclined to puzzle me at the best of times. Our bond was purely empathic and not so emotional. Just the same, I'm not sure what to make of what these mediums suggest. On a night before my mother had her mini stroke I felt that portal open and something touched me with a compassionate sense of forewarning- a messenger of sorts. This came with a warming radiance like the rays of a spring sun. I'm not sure who it was except to be wary of my mother's condition, though the impression was that the outcome would be positive.

Adepts of the shamanic path say that these things only assume a form familiar to the contactee if it's the only way they can get through to them. I guess that means I simply lack fear and accept things for what they are. Mind you, "Grenzgängers" like Johnston in his house in Dartmouth, Nova Scotia, are ones that have suspended themselves chronokinetically. They have not yet left that boundary state into higher dimensionality. Nonetheless, it should be interesting what Schwartz's experiments have revealed on the subject of mediumship. The term Afterlife, in itself, I find a strange concept. I've never really concerned myself with that particular transition zone from one causality to another, rather the cycles themselves. I've had too many bizarre chronokinetic experiences to want to mess with that one, as there's a time and place for everything. On the other hand, it's not so much death that most seem to fear as much as the meaning of life. I've seen this fear so prevalent in some, it's amazing what lengths they gone to desperately appease it.

I took the liberty of watching a CMN interview with David Icke where he describes the series of mental breakdowns he experienced prior to his alleged revelations. While some may suggest these are schizophrenic delusions, to me they show all the classical symptoms of a narcissistic personality disorder. The withdrawal into innocence, wanton of spiritual guidance by forces beyond his control, conveniently writes off those inner demons as some alien insurgent. Yet as much as he denies his comparison to Jesus as having any relevance, it does carry the obvious undertones of a self-fulfilling persecution complex. I don't doubt the despotic control freakdoms amongst the powers that be, but just where is this new world order? Behind all that starry eyed rhetoric is nothing more than a carbon tax for the lack of Iraqi oil to bail out the banks of a doomed economy. Another come-on to keep those old corporate dinosaurs alive.

Yes, it's been a while...

...just too much happening on all fronts since the new year started. My brother and his wife have since moved in, given the unrelenting economic crisis. Indeed this is a year of many changes and subsequent reorganization. It boils down to that realization that governments are no longer cost effective and rapidly becoming too great a tax burden. I mean really, let's cut to the chase here, just who do they think they're fooling? First they use our hard earned money to bail out their bad investments in Iraqi oil. That has to be the biggest con of the century, but it doesn't stop there. Now they want us to raid granny's little treasure chest to cover the astrophysical proportions of their global inflationary gold deficit. While the conspiracy theorists are on about some New World Order, all I see is that old Rothschild dinosaur still trying to raise its greedy head. Yes, the arctic may be melting but I'd be freezing my ass off here, if it were not for the one good investment my father made in a wood stove. Nonetheless, I don't envy these warmongers in palatial mansions. They're so far removed from reality they would starve to death if they had to grow their own food. I would much rather see this, than all those left to die fighting on foreign soil while the real enemy lurks within our own boundaries. No I am not some fanatical idealist, just an ordinary citizen who can't see how melting down granny's baubles is gonna reduce the carbon footprint of perpetual bullshit. Read between the lies.

Another One Bites the Dust

Another "chosen one" preaching his wicca like a monk from another planet. Claims to have studied under Raymond Buckland personally since 1964, although I doubt they would have taken anyone that young. Rather, I suspect it was his mother who attended, at least until 1973 when Buckland Left for New Hampshire. Then there was Buckland’s brief flirt with Seax-Wicca in San Diego that he also undoubtably missed. So, if all accounts are true, he actually started with an Alexandrian coven. Indeed much of what he says is its' classical take on the earth/underworld goddess connection. Frankly, I don’t have a problem with any of that, or what anyone chooses to make peace with their innermost fears. It’s when they start dropping names to preach about giving up one’s “differences” to serve the “common cause”, that’s when I get leery. Despite all good intentions such ideals tend to overlook certain facts, that make that critical difference between reality and delusions of grandeur. Especially the idea of collectively using “magic” to “heal the earth” tends to leave me cold. It strikes me as a cop out from any real efforts at conservation. It’s rather like those people who preach about saving the forests, but have never planted or cared for a tree in their entire lives, to think nothing of the paper they relentlessly wipe their butts with . I think the flaw in the whole concept here begins with the meaning of “crafting”, in other words the “kenning” of what it really is you’re dealing with.

Last night, one of our members was holding a wiccan yule ritual in the chatroom and of course this wise guy couldn't resist the urge to intervene. Naturally, failing to give the impression he had hoped for, he implied we were little better than an RPG site. Heh, that's what he would have liked to believe, especially trying to come onto us like we're a bunch of neophytes. A colleague told me she had this flash of seeing this jerk in a room full hoarded popular pagany books, presenting their contents, word for word as his own. Indeed, this wouldn't surprise me. Such wannabe gurus always need some kind of written gospel they can preach, after all, to them it's all about peer worship. We get the same crap from Asatruar that try to preach the Havamal. Aside from the fact of the obvious Christian pathos, it would never occur to such fools that some of us have our own indigenous cultures and can do well without these damned missionaries. Yep, it's the spanish inquisition all over again. Well, the good news is that the blighter's account's been closed and is no more.