Question/Rant: What do things like the economy, politics, etc. have to do with the paranormal? (I know, para-politics, true, but then get into the conspiracy stuff, which is fine) I’m talking about shows like C2C. Then again, I realize it’s Noory we’re talking about, right wing thick headed and dense. As always, I am fascinated by the juxtaposition of those who hold onto right wing beliefs along with total acceptance of the paranormal and UFO cover-ups — the latter, by the way, created by the very government the alt right supports. Then again, as we know, the Trickster, the Cosmic Joker, the contradictions, are ever present in the World of the Weird.
Decades after our Orange Orb sighting, I’ve decided to go through regression, or hypnosis, to try and recover the missing parts of that event.
I’ve been in contact with someone locally who does this kind of work. It will be a few weeks until we even get started — she is booked out, and I am recovering from an extremely bad case of pneumonia. (Have never been this sick in my life.). I’m not sure how it works out with insurance and cost, but it’s a commitment I’ve made to myself.
My spouse, who was with me at the time of the sighting, is still on the fence about his own regression, but he is supportive of whatever I decide to do.
I realize it all may turn out to be nothing! That is almost as scary as finding out aliens were involved. What if it turns out I simply saw a big ol’ plasma ball that was no big deal, and we had missing time and weird dreams because we were just forgetful, impressionable people? Big Fortean egg on the face. But then again, that doesn’t change all the weirdness that went before — decades before — or, after.
We shall see.
Like most artists, I began keeping a sketchbook in which I could doodle initial design concepts or just doodle whatever the hell I fancied some time ago. At first I used cheap notepads that I brought along during the Paradigm symposium conferences in Minneapolis to write notes, but then I chose to keep these journal/sketchbooks in a much sturdier medium –Canson’s Art Book ONE with 98 pages of 100 g/m2 paper is currently my favorite choice; their price is affordable enough and I can use ink as well as pencil to sketch my ideas. The paper is not great for fancier media like markers, but nowadays affordability is paramount for my artistic needs…
Usually these sketchbooks would last me at least a year, because I’m a very lazy artist. However –as I mentioned on my last post— at the beginning of this year…
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I won’t say “just” a plasma ball. As if the label “plasma ball” decides the thing. Explains it all. It doesn’t.
I Googled “is plasma intelligent?” and the first thing that popped up was this, from the Solar Ancestor site.
Some believe that UFOs are sometimes really craft made of plasma – while others suggest that ‘light orbs’ are intelligent beings whose form is composed of plasma. Since plasma is considered a fourth state of matter (beyond solid, liquid and gas), any intelligent consciousness that used plasma as its body would be considered to be Inter-Dimensional (ID).
Andrew Collins, in his book Light Quest, has proposed that natural plasma emissions play host to, or are the vehicles of intelligent life forms – light-beings or electric-beings – who use plasma for temporarily manifesting into our dimension for short periods of time. The question he is unable to answer is whether they…
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Little synchronicities lately, coming at me in waves. Most trivial — no great metaphysical awakening happening here. At the same time, isn’t the fact the synchronicities happen at all pretty groovy in a cosmic joker kind of way?
Last night, thinking I’d like to hear Lady Ga Ga’s Bad Romance, and how come the station I listen to that plays that kind of music hasn’t been playing it recently? I turn on the radio, tuned to that station and yes, you’re right, Bad Romance had just started.
Jim and talking last night about selling or donating our Honda. Wanda, as we named her years ago, has been sitting in our driveway for some time. We discussed selling her, how much, she barely runs, we have to take pics, etc. etc. Today, coming home from running errands, we find a little note on our door, urging us to call if we want to sell our Honda. The man was still on our block, he came to talk to us. Good deal!
Those are just two of many little synchronicities. Not sure what causes these, but some of it might be simply focusing and intent. I’ve been intentionally concentrating on gratitude and positive energy, as well as communicating with what I call my angels, though, who or what they actually are, who can say. I put out the call, I’m being answered.
I know that that last part will cause many to heave a sigh and shake their heads at my dippy hippy new age angle. But it is so. In UFO Land and related realms, honesty is crucial. And if sometimes that means exposing one’s vulnerable side, well, that’s the way it is.
About twenty years ago, I was contacted by a young man who said he was a reporter for a newspaper in the town over. He wanted to interview me about my UFO experiences, particularly my orange orb sighting.
I was attending the University at the time, and had been busy interviewing people about their UFO encounters as part of my folklore studies. Word got around. So I wasn’t too surprised that this reporter contacted me. But for some reason, I get a weird feeling that something was odd about the whole thing whenever I think back on this. Something a bit MIB like about the experience.
We agreed to meet at a local Starbucks. He seemed very nice, polite. But also, a bit too … nerdy? Judgemental, I know. But too clean cut, too. . . just, out of place, almost, in his squeaky clean appearance. One thing I remember: his eyes. Round and shining blue. Very open to whatever I had to say, which was fine, but he kept asking questions. Questions. More questions. Of course that’s what he would do — it was an interview. But it just seemed a bit off, or something. One of those uneasy, nebulous feelings that doesn’t seem logical. Yet the uncomfortable thought that something was off lingers.
I never thought to ask him how he got a hold of me; how he got my contact info, etc. It could be I knew at one time; maybe he did mention how he found me. But I don’t recall.
He told me he was going to submit the interview to his editor, and let me know the status. I never heard from him. No such article appeared; his name never appeared anywhere, and, when I called the paper, they didn’t know who I was talking about.
Either a perfectly innocent encounter: young student (was he? not sure) who flaked out a bit, or got busy with other things, the newspaper simply rejected the article, things happen. Or, something a little stranger.
For years after the orange orb sighting, weird things did happen. Many more sightings. Synchronicities. Psychic experiences. Off the wall encounters Over time, these experiences have lessened, but they still continue.
(I recently mentioned to Tim Beckley on his podcast that I wonder if some of this slow down in the realm of the weird has to do with either age, or gender; post-menopausal, maybe? But then, what would be the reason for that? )
The point is, some memories related to UFO experiences contain an element of unease. A nagging feeling there is more, a something else, that escapes us.
I remind myself: it’s about the data, the research, the search, the journey, the personal experiences, the witnesses. Not whether or not I like so and so, and, if I do, because I respect them, find out they like so and so, who I detest, dislike, spit upon! Even. Yes. I do.
And so then what? Does that color my opinion and trust and respect on their conclusions on research, data, etc.? Or what? Oy. UFO and Fortean World: Welcome to Middle School Melodrama. No, just move on.
Except for certain things, I do not abide. Like threats of rape and other violence towards myself and other women. Or intentionally spewing lies. All your research is then discarded. Because you’re a dick, and will stoop to anything to get your ego driven self out there, propped up by others who dance giddily in your light, not knowing, or caring, you’re a sexist violent pig who puts himself above any witness account, any data, any interesting bit of research. Some days it’s hard being a resident in UFO Land.
The 1950s throw back comic Rex Morgan, M.D. recent thread depicting an old coot who’s “paranoid” and thinks chemtrails are real, and, affecting our brains. Dr. Morgan, of course, ever the rational mind, is clearly bemused and troubled. No doubt it will turn out the man has a brain tumor, or early dementia, some type of physical ill that is causing him to think these silly thoughts. Once he’s cured, everyone will have a good laugh over the man’s crazy thoughts.