Saturday,
October 01, 2005 
Volume Thirteen
Will O' the Wisp by John McNally
In This Issue:
Ancestor Recognition, Black Holes-Essence Regeneration, and Terrorism A Kris Session channeled by Serge J. Grandbois
Living a Stephen King Novel by Lea Cox
Heidi's Walnuts (A Ghost Story by Kristen Fox
The Edge by Thomas Way
The Skull by Donald R. Johnson
Death In Vegas Part 5 by Dan Scranton
Editor's Note: Be sure to see the Announcements section for the upcoming Kris workshop:
Discover Your Passionate Self!
Ancestor Recognition, Black Holes-Essence Regeneration, and Terrorism
Channeled by Serge J. Grandbois
Transcribed by Marcy Singer
Recorded in Toronto, Canada on November 1, 2004
Copyright 2004 Avion Rising Inc.
A Castaic, California Evening: PAUL H. (Janaki), Joanne (Rosalie), Denise (Behaar), PAUL (Antolian), Jene (Mildor), Ester (Benata)
Attendance in Toronto: Serge (Joseph), Alex (Darrolid), Lida (Miriam), Andrea (Jarasen), Marcy (Arindal)
Session beings 7:52 pm
KRIS: Now then, we welcome old friends and new friends alike.
CASTAIC: Hello Kris.
KRIS: We gather that at the other end of the telephone line there is a group of very happy people.
CASTAIC: Yes there is. We have our "Day of the Dead" Guy altar set up and so there may be some dead amongst us and live ones as well. As long as they are happy.
KRIS: Indeed then, you have a most interesting set of holidays.
CASTAIC: Very eclectic.
KRIS: And over the next few days in most South American countries, but specifically in those countries where there are descendants of aboriginal nations of Mayan and Inca descent, you have the celebration of the dead, to which many Westerners find a sort of repulsive objectification, as if somehow or other the dead are only good for feeding the worms and grieving over. The length of grieving depends and is likely proportionate to the inheritance the grievers receive. But overall, the practice of celebrating death is truly ancient by your standards, much moreso than the idea of grieving for those who have left physical existence behind and thus have left their bones to nourish the soil.
In many cultures over several millennia now the celebration of the dead and ancestral recognition, we will use that instead of ancestor worship, because that is not what they do, but ancestral recognition is a practice whose abandonment by Western culture has deprived Western culture and Western philosophy of much needed healing. The modern practice of relegating the elderly to the fringes of society in hopes that they will perhaps be forgotten, is a sign, or as some prefer to say, an affectation, of a lack of understanding of the cycle of life and death and the overall cycles of birth and rebirth. And as such, Western society suffers, especially when members of that Western society are forced to come to terms with their own aging process and dying.
It is understandable therefore that so many individuals as they mature, reach retirement and old age, may choose to opt out, faster than they would otherwise when they come face to face with the recognition that their own children and their offspring may indeed relegate them to the prisons for those who DARE age, and they will soon become the forgotten as they leave behind their carcasses to feed the worms and to enrich the trees and the grass.
And in that light, each and every one of you will also go through the process of aging, the process of relinquishing your eventual last breathe, and pass on from your bodily existence. However, were you to understand the larger cycles of life and birth and death and rebirth, then indeed you would not fear the processes of aging! You would not feel obliged to gradually sacrifice the functioning of your organs and your mental faculties to those processes that label you as 'old', 'getting older.' And there are many members of your society still that are quite aged and that have not succumbed to the popular beliefs about the aging process, that are still vibrant, have sharp minds, and have maintained their critical faculties to a high degree, and may even choose to exit the material world through the process of sleep, without any undue trauma or long term illnesses.
In many older cultures, some that are often referred to as 'backwards', 'superstitious', or even partially 'stone age' by your standards, there is a different recognition and acceptance of the processes of aging and dying, understood to be a natural expression of life and not feared as it is in your Western society where science and medicine must find a way to try and vanquish the enemy of ‘death’, and in such ancient cultures, ancestral recognition is still practiced to varying degrees.
There is an understanding in those ancient cultures that one is never cut off from this process of life, death and rebirth, and that there are many ways to stay in touch with one's ancestors, even a long line of past ancestors, knowing that this line will continue well beyond the living representative's own life cycles; that there is a connection, a linking that is maintained throughout time, throughout history, and death itself is not seen as a harvester of souls and the bringer of grief, but instead a helper from one state of existence into another. And though there is still a certain degree of grieving, there is still an understanding, and a deep understanding that everything in the physical, material world will go through changes and transformations, and that these stages are entirely natural and the individuality in those terms is guaranteed. There is an innate acquiescence to this deep wisdom and knowledge that life and death are but facets of a greater cycle of existence.
And such cultures that maintain these ancient practices of ancestor recognition usually have a healthier psychological outlook in those terms than many individuals in Western culture, because death is not viewed as the final step towards the elimination of the individuality but simply as another step. And it would do each and every one of you to incorporate a certain type of recognition of those ancestors that have come before you, and that have shared of their experiences and their lives. Even if you are not certain as to whom they are, there is still a partial acknowledgement at the unconscious level, and it would certainly not make you morbid individuals, but instead may indeed make you all more psychologically complete to recognize that no one has left you, that you are still part of a long line of precious individuals and that your life long journey does not dissipate and disappear simply because you leave behind your physical form. It would also allow your Western mindset to free itself of many unjustified fears about death and dying, as that is not an unnatural process that you must pit your sciences against, but instead it allows you to continue your journey. Do you follow?
GROUP: Yes.
KRIS: Whether you are rejoicing because someone has given birth to a child, or because you have eaten too much candy on Halloween, you may also rejoice because your ancestors lived rich lives and left behind a line of individuals who will continue to rejoice in life. And you may also rejoice in the knowledge that death is natural. That will also enable you, each and every one of you, as you grow older and face the inevitable, to know that your existence does not end with the death of your physical form.
Now then, if you are of such a mind, we will relish the rest of the evening in sharing your questions and those answers that we can provide.
PAUL (Antolian): This is Antolian.
KRIS: Please continue.
PAUL (Antolian): Last week I saw a very interesting presentation by a woman who had a near death experience about twenty years ago, and during the course of this NDE she saw what she described as an object which contained 144 facets of triangles and composed something very similar to a sphere. For the record she calls it Mereon. And over the years she had more downloads of information about it, and she described it as an input processing/output sort of a thing. But basically in my opinion she didn't know what she had.
After the presentation I had the impression that what she was describing were what Seth called 'consciousness units', and what Elias calls 'links of consciousness,' and is the action as opposed to an object, which translates the un-manifest into the manifest, and I’d like to hear what your comments are about that impression.
KRIS: Our comments would be directed toward her experience. Does that meet with your approval?
PAUL (Antolian): So you are going to address HER experience?
KRIS: Indeed.
PAUL (Antolian): Okay.
KRIS: Her near death experience as well as the near death experience of many individuals brings them in a manner of speaking, into a state of reference where observation of their own source self, their own essence, can be quite liberating and where they will obviously interpret their own perceptions of that event in a manner relating to their belief structures. So in her case, she objectified her perceptions of her essence self in that specific manner.
Anyone who goes through the process of an NDE does so primarily and firstly out of choice and with full knowledge that they will enter into a state so deep the physical body will appear as dead and with the knowledge that they will return their focus back towards that physical body with revelatory experiences and interactions and exchanges at those layers of existence far removed from their immediate perceptions. But upon returning to their regular focus, the event they encounter is again translated through the structures of their belief paradigms, and this is evident specifically when the religious affiliations and beliefs of the individual are made known.
And it is understandable that even individuals from different cultural, national ethnic and religious backgrounds may also share certain common insights and perceptions, since at another layer of selfhood they encounter collective belief structures. So what we are saying then is that this individual translated the experience of the event of her own essence in said manner. Does that make sense to you?
PAUL (Antolian): Yeah, actually it makes perfect sense to me, especially with her descriptions of the actions associated with this object as she described it. This is a follow-up question which is somewhat related. The other Paul has put forth the postulate: "According to perennial wisdom we have the "I" of the ego and there is the "I" of the, we'll call it 'one state' for lack of a better term at the moment, the experience of universal oneness."
Here again Seth and Elias and yourselves have all talked about essence, and the theory which Paul has put forth is that what you are inserting into this model of consciousness is another holon that the focus personalities, the egoic personalities are part of essence, which at that point becomes a holon because it transcends and includes. And then further layers of consciousness which we in this physical focus don't necessarily have access to directly, although we may, would be another encompassing holon of this essence or middle layer, so to speak. I'd like to hear what your comments are on this perception, or this theory.
KRIS: As we have begun to describe recently from our perspective is that you have various bodies. One of those bodies happens to be the physical self that you know and understand in this here and now: the one that pertains to the ego construction. You have many other such selves dispersed through(out) time and space in different realities, in different dimensions and in different planes of existence. All of these together summed up do not yet make the totality of what you refer to as essence self. Essence self, from our perspective, is another body of yours that you have selfhood above and beyond that state as well. You may even have different essence selves through which you seed completely different realities and universes with other kinds of focus personality life forms. And we would refer to that kind of an association of selfhood as 'holon-centric.'
The "I" that perceives itself in the here and now is an expression of another "I" that perceives itself in a completely different manner, and is itself an expression of another "I" that indeed perceives all the others, including itself in a completely different manner and so on and so forth. And we refer to that "I" as holon-centric, and that, dear friend, is our answer to your sweet holon self. Notice we did not say colon self.
PAUL (Antolian): Okay. Your term of holon-centric, what do you mean by that?
KRIS: What is your impression?
PAUL (Antolian): The vantage point or viewpoint from which I’m speaking.
KRIS: Indeed. What is the vantage point from which you are speaking now? It is from the ego construction perspective. Now if you alter your perspective to speak from perspective of essence, you experience then a totally different concept of "I" self. Remove your perspective again and everything changes. And keep doing this until you basically reach the boundaries of what you can possibly imagine those descriptions to be, and still you would find yourself staring back at you.
PAUL H: This is Janaki with a follow-up question then. With your ‘clans’ information and ‘clusters’, that's another layer that would be holon-centric too in some way, shape or form, have a sense of "I", relative to this whole nested sense of "I".
KRIS: Indeed. And even at those layers, even though there is a deep understanding of "I" as the multitude, there is no loss of individuality, for individuality is understood in many different fashions, including the manner in which you understand it presently in the here and now, but in different manners simultaneously. Imagine yourself looking out again at the beautiful, dark sky, seeing dozens if not hundreds if not thousands of points of light that are usually understood to be stars. And yet they can easily be all of the different "I's" of your selfhood, knowing each other, including you staring back at them, staring back at you. And grasp, make an effort to grasp as much of this self as you can possibly imagine, and recognize the psychological integrity and validity of that event that is self. And still you would perceive but a fraction of what is "I" of self.
PAUL H: Kris, just one other question that ties into your quadrants of consciousness. Paul mentioned the model of three "I's". But really then to map it to your quadrants, you would have a fourth "I", that in each of these quadrants there is a holon-centric sense of self as you perceive it. Correct?
KRIS: Indeed.
PAUL H: And those four are plenty enough for us to continue to move forward in our explorations of selfhood.
KRIS: You have enough difficulties dealing with the singular "I". But underneath all of the jesting and the fun-making you do have an inkling that what you call your “self” is a vast matrix of energies of living dynamic forces that are as formidable (an) event as any force of nature that you can possibly imagine. And with this knowledge you create the most admirable and majestic and divine gracious realities on a continued basis.
PAUL H: Now all of these quadrants cycle in some way, and you started out tonight with our theme of death, which is a physical cycle in quadrant one terms: we die and this is how we end self. Would you care to comment in quadrant essence cycles also? It doesn't die.
KRIS: Indeed not.
PAUL H: And yet it does cycle. Is there some analogy you might offer to try to get our minds around that?
KRIS: At such a layer of selfhood there are again varying methods by which that form, the essence form, continues the processes of creation either through fragmentation, as well as.....we are looking for a word. Give us a moment. There is a process that transforms that type of energy.
In physical reality your astronomers refer to them as black holes, where energy and matter are increasingly dense and through which all of matter is absorbed. And in Framework Two layer there is a process by which essence can basically regenerate itself in a process not unlike what your astronomers describe as black hole, which we have in the past also described with adjacent white holes, through which the process of transformation creates the new forms of life.
And in Framework Two (or other frameworks), essence can indeed basically regenerate itself without ever losing a single iota of its identity, of its selfhood, including any of its focal personalities and myriad other projections, but enabling new opportunities to constantly feed into the system, which would also come from the Third Quadrant, often generating a chain reaction of consciousness that infuses its own matrix with new energies providing the opportunities to create yet again and again in a never-ending cycle. These processes may indeed take literal eons of your time concept to be processed. We hope that at this time this suffices as an answer for you.
PAUL H: Yes indeed. Thank you.
KRIS: Now, what is the time? (8:36) we suggest then a small break to insure that no one falls into a black hole. Indeed then enjoy a few moments of break time.
Break begins at 8:37
Various humorous discussion concerning Day of the Dead Guy altar and Kris pictured as Gandhi.
Question concerning how the Four Quadrants relate to Regional Areas 1-4.
PAUL H: It's more comprehensive than that. Kris said that in Quadrant Two are all the frameworks of consciousness, the four Regional areas, Frameworks, Kris calls them levels, that's Quadrant Two. In Quadrant Three is where the clusters are: Seth called them life clouds, pyramid energy gestalts or the Grid of Perception. Elias called them Pools of consciousness. Then the Fourth Quadrant, he used a lot of Vedic terminology, and that will be in the transcript.
SERGE: Yes, Quadrants of Consciousness is on the website.
PAUL H: This is close to the non dual concept. Kris talked about essence as having a body. The Vedas talks about koshas, which means sheaves or bodies. The Buddhists talk about kayas, the trikaya - the nirmanakaya, sammboghakaya, dharmakaya. The three Buddha bodies. It's breaking down the primary gestalt.
Denise is new to Kris and so various Castaic group members are explaining several of Kris' ideas and past discussions to her.
Discussion pertaining to the black hole concept that Kris introduced as a manner in which essence regenerates itself.
ALEX: Concerning this idea that ancient cultures know that life continues on after death, what about these suicide bombers in the Middle East? Is that an abuse of this concept?
PAUL H: Elias says that it is a cultural variation. They believe that they are dying for a higher cause and therefore justifiable action and rewarded in a high way. And if that is their belief then when they die they are greeted by the 72 virgins, etc, according to Islamic belief.
Kris returns at 8:45.
KRIS: But when they come to their partial senses they realize that the 72 virgins are not all so virginal. But these individuals, like individuals clear across the spectrum of human life, also go through periods of debriefing, and eventual acceptance of their condition apart from what was promised them. And the realization that they eventually create their environment can be unsettling, to say the least, for there is also within their own culture an ingrained, deeply ingrained belief about the guilt as you find in many religions, specifically when there is the recognition that due to the words of fanatical leaders they have not only taken their own lives but the lives of other innocent people, the sense of guilt can be traumatizing, since in that environment, the after death environment emotional subjective states are greatly amplified.
And then there is a deep healing process involved so that the identity, their personality can reflect and basically take stock of their experiences, reflect upon their actions, and divest themselves of feeling states acquired through the various structures from their ingrained religions. And this may be quite devastating since they would still greatly associate with their physical selves, or at least the image of their physical selves, until such a time as there is sufficient understanding and healing that permits them to move beyond those situations. Simply because they might be Muslim freedom-fighters, which buys no one any freedom, they are in situations no different than soldiers from another ethnic and religious background that may wish to hunt them down. So both sides are fighting then for ideals, ideals that have become distorted and basically poison, specifically when you consider what the underlying ideals are.
Eventually such individuals are nurtured into wholeness again and it may, in your terms indeed take some time. Fortunately there are no lawyers around (general laughter).
JO: Kris, this is Rosalie. I have a follow up question. We know someone who, after the 9/11 attacks, had a series of dreams in which some of us were helping these terrorists through that transitional healing stage that you talked about, and I was wondering if you would want to address this. And she also mentioned that these individuals were actually turning themselves around and then helping us who are still here in physical. Could you talk about that?
KRIS: It must be understood that every single individual who participated in any layer of the 9/11 event did so by choice. We are speaking here of an entirely subjective choosing, a choice that fit in with the fulfillment of each single individual. And though on the one hand it looks like countless lives were lost, that thousands of individual lives perished, not a single life died indeed prematurely and not a single life was indeed without fulfillment. The repercussions of 9/11 go far beyond the time frame, the historical time frame of its original event.
You have a highly probable future event in which this mass event is understood to have been pivotal to dramatic changes in history to bring about reformations that change the entire configuration of what you call the United Nations and the eventual birthing of a global government, the likes of which it is difficult for many modern societies even to begin imagining, but where there is a respect and a recognition of individual rights, not only in industrial countries but where there is the clear desire to eliminate the Third World status, not by wiping them out, but by sharing technologies and modern advances so there is an equal footing, which is what this event speaks about, so that you do not have one million impoverished people enriching the life of one individual, but that each individual shares in the natural riches of the world. So this event of 9/11 is pivotal to a change in your future in a way you may not yet be able to fully imagine because you still operate very much in two camps, the 'us' and the 'them', and the 'them' might be dangerous.
Now, this individual, or at least her impressions, were partially correct in that subjectively many of you indeed operate at another layer of selfhood to provide some assistance to some of those who might have found their own lives to be traumatically ended, and helping them understand the choices they may have made to be at that time in the space they were. Many such individuals were fully aware subjectively and did so with a certain knowledge that this event was the seed for a highly probable new future for mankind, even though that future may have had a very difficult birth. And indeed, being able to see into such a future, being able to envision it may help heal deep wounds, may help bring such a future within reach. Do you follow?
ALEX: Jo, do you follow?
JO: Yes, thank you.
KRIS: Do you have another question?
PAUL H: Another question, Janaki here. The recent school hostage event in Belsan in Russia near Chechnya was very traumatic for the Russian people, and three to four hundred people died there, and that seems like a harmonic event, a rippling effect of these larger source events or mass events. Would you care to comment?
KRIS: Indeed, in that you are correct and terrorist organizations presently see a certain power right now. They are emboldened, thinking that their own twisted or even perverted visions will succeed just as the apparent victims of the terrorists feel that their own might will succeed. And both sides are feeding off the same belief grid and they cannot see because they are blinded in many ways. This is the activity that is occurring and manifesting itself at the surface most layer of physical reality where there is a belief that eliminating the enemy brings about victory and a sense of justice. And though both camps may hold the same belief, they will eventually only realize that if they keep this up both sides ultimately lose.
Indeed the Russian people had insulated themselves, thinking that only large-scale terrorist events occur now between America and Al Qaeda and its various factions, only to awaken to the grim reality that they hold similar belief grids. They feed off the same grid. And usually these wars are for political ideals and small bit of real estate, and sometimes for the riches that runs below the ground. Do you understand?
ALL: Yes.
KRIS: So too what are Russian and Chechnyan, Muslim and American, you will kill yourselves, you will kill your mother's children for the excremental waste found beneath the ground because some of your political leaders find it necessary to sacrifice your mother's children to the pocketbook, and you believe that you are in a democracy. Does that make sense to you?
PAUL H: Would you care to hazard a guess on those probable probabilities on tomorrow's (U.S. presidential) election?
KRIS: We have a most excellent scientific suggestion. Flip a coin!
ALEX: Kris, I have just one question regarding this. It's Alex. On the collective consciousness you said that Russia, America, the Middle East, they all have the same belief system, but where do the neutral countries fit in?
KRIS: They also feed into the same belief grid. They may have variations on the themes, but they are not necessarily primarily involved but they are marginally involved. Some may send financial assistance, weapons and soldiers to the war fronts. They are still participating. Some are sufficiently wise to recognize and not participate. It does not mean, however, that they are free of those beliefs. Do you understand?
Now what is the time? (9:07) Indeed. Are there any final questions?
DENISE: This is Denise. One question relating to what we just talked about is this. Before we come into the physical world we choose the environment into which we will be born, and so do these terrorists choose to come into the world to become a terrorist? What is there intent?
KRIS: As you have pointed out, any individual who manifests into physical life does so out of choice. And they may wish to explore various belief structures in order to expand their awareness of selfhood and to understand how self functions within specific conditions, those conditions being the various psychological atmospheres generated by their adherence to various belief structures, whether it be choosing to enter a family where there is belief in peace by peaceful methods or in peace out of fear of war.
Their intent is certainly not to fly a plane into tall buildings. But their intent might be to see the unfolding of the beliefs that they hold up to and including fanaticism at one end of that spectrum. And at the other end of the spectrum those essences will manifest, create focal personalities that may be activists for peaceful measures to establish peaceful governments where there is respect for the individual, the environment, and all life forms within it simultaneously. Does that make sense to you?
DENISE: Yes it does. I have another question going back to what we talked about before the break with regard to the black holes.
KRIS: Indeed.
DENISE: I think it was either Seth or Elias that likened a consciousness unit to a black hole and you mentioned the essence form changing form but not its essence. Scientists are finding these gamma ray bursts that they are discovering within the universe. Are these related to black holes? Is energy coming into our system by way of these gamma ray bursts?
KRIS: That is what they then interpret as energy. Now, they have for the longest time maintained that once matter is trapped by the gravitational force of the black hole, nothing escapes. Do you understand? Now they have noticed that is not the case. A type of energy actually does leave the black hole. We have explained in another session that there are what we call white holes, which is the exit of what is a black hole in YOUR reality and that draws energy from its own area and creating pathways of exchanges between various dimensions and realities. And your scientists may indeed discover the source of other kinds of energies entering the system.
Now if they could create instruments, they would indeed see that the energy coming into THIS system originates in another dimension where there is a black hole, and there are many such points of entry and exit into realities. There are no closed systems and always exchanges of energies whether in the form of gigantic black holes that will consume entire galaxies or whether the black holes are of unit of consciousness size, they still permit energy to be transformed on a continual basis. Your physical form at this very moment is not the same physical form that was there a moment ago, even though to your ego construction it seems that nothing is different. Do you understand?
DENISE: Yes I do. I have another small question. How do these white and black holes relate to what Seth called 'coordinate points?'
KRIS: They are not the same. Coordinate points are another type of corridor that will not manifest physically, though the effect will be felt and can be detected at the physical level. You will not find an inter-dimensional warp in your living room, but you will find at the subjective level, a specific area in your living room for example, where the flow of your thought energies will gravitate towards. Do you follow? Does that make sense to you?
DENISE: I'm supposed to ask what my essence name is.
KRIS: Indeed. Now we would interpret or intone your essence name as Behaar. B-E-H-A-A-R. Behaar.
DENISE: Thank you.
JENE: Kris, can I ask you a question?
KRIS: Indeed.
JENE: As Kerry takes office (much laughter), will that begin the healing process within the belief system in the objective situation that we have with the terrorism.
KRIS: In that probability, it will work very well.
ALL: Thank you very much.
KRIS: Now, do not expect that if Kerry sits in the office that there will be an immediate cessation of terrorist activities and that suddenly everything is hunky dory. (Much laughter.) There will still be many answers required from the previous administration.
JENE: But the healing will begin to take place.
KRIS: Indeed.
JO: Things won't be hunky dory until Hilary takes office.
KRIS: There is a possibility very strongly, that three presidents from now you will have a woman in office. (Much cheering and applause)
JO: Do you know this person, Kris?
KRIS: Not at this point.
JO: So it won't be Hilary.
KRIS: Hilary will be far too old for office.
Now we wish you a great November 2nd and may all the Days of the Dead be also days of the living, for your life is indeed a never-ending process of joy and creativity, and rejoice in the fact that you are eternal and immortal consciousness. And with that we send you our blessings and we bid you a fond evening.
ALL: Thank you Kris.
Session ends 9:19
Originally published on the Kris Chronicles website.
Living a Stephen King Novel
by Lea Cox
The whole world is haunted, as far as I'm concerned. One friend
told me he just reads Stephen King novels - I live them. That
cracked me up, especially since I don't consider ghosts to be at all
scary. Startling, perhaps, because they are 3-D to me and it
sometimes takes me a bit to recognize that this person IS a ghost
(the clue comes when they walk through a wall...). And I usually
don't have F-1 strange humans walking through my apartment -
literally. But scary? Nah.
I was in Vermont for a business meeting with my fellow state
beaurocrats and we were staying in a lovely bed and breakfast in
mid-Vermont. Being the professionals that we were, I had barred my
door from the inside after they had promised a water balloon fight
if I didn't, so it was locked with a large chair up against it. I
knew my fellow state workers!
Anyway, I woke up in the middle of the night and it didn't dawn on
me until later that I was actually in an oob state for several
reasons that will become clear. I was somewhat drowsy, but I
couldn't help but notice two very sweet young boys standing next to
my bed. How the heck did they get past the locked door, I wondered,
but I figured they knew another way in. I smiled at them and one
leaned over and kissed my cheek. That was lovely, I thought, and I
fell back asleep. I remembered them when I woke up the next morning
and saw that the door had not been unlocked, the chair had not been
moved, etc. Huh. They really must know another way in. (Oh, yes,
indeedy, no doors could have kept them out! LOL!)
I was the first one down to the breakfast table and I asked the inn
keeper who the two kids were staying at the inn. He gave me one of
those puzzled, raised-eyebrow looks that I'm very used to and said
that there were no children staying there at this time. Oh. Never
mind. Sorry I asked, must have been dreaming. You think I'd learn
by now. :-)
I realized that I must have been either in a lucid dream or out of
body because generally I can't feel a ghost touch me when I'm in my
physical body. I remembered those boys always, though. They were
so sweet and I haven't the foggiest notion of who they were and why
they came to visit me. I'm just glad they did.
I did not tell my fellow state workers about my nightly visitors,
believe me. One look from the inn keeper was enough, thank you. I
did tell another friend about them, and he was the one who gave me
the Stephen King line about living those stories while others just
read them.
Heidi's Walnuts: A Ghost Story
by Kristen Fox
Merlin (our dog) was running around the house, barking at seemingly nothing - we joked about having ghosts in the house. Then, Kristen was in the bathroom, while John was playing with Merlin in the kitchen. Suddenly, the cabinet doors above the sink opened and two glass pyrex dishes came crashing down into the sink. The two dishes survived the fall intact, and managed to miss six Looney Tunes glasses soaking in the other part of the sink. The bowls had been positioned in the MIDDLE of the cupboard. John walked around the house trying to pinpoint any strange energy - he found it localized by our white board - a large presence - and got the impression that a message was going to appear there. So, we decided then to see if we could get something through the Ouija board.
The energy came in quickly. Female.
HELLO
(Who are you?)
HEIDI
(Do we know you?)
NO
(Do you know the house?)
YES
(When?)
1978
(Are you alive now?)
NO
LISTEN STOP TEARING MY WORLD
GO HUVL
(What?)
WULTW
[John got that she meant WALNUTS.]
(The trees out front?)
NO
(The basket in the kitchen?)
YES
(Is something wrong with them?)
YES
3 8 K O
(?)
FAR
(Should we bury them?)
NO
(Burn them in the burn barrel?)
YES
[Kristen got the idea that they had somehow gone bad and were "poisoned."]
(Okay, now, what about the "tearing your world apart" part?)
REST LIFE YOU AHEAD OF YOU. STOP I NEED REST. WHY MY WORLD....
[We were both getting the impression of a crazy whirlwind of energy. She was very confused and frightened. She didn't mean us specifically.]
(How can we help?)
[At this point the Ouija pointer just circled around. She didn't know how we could help her - she was too confused. We got the impression that the "tearing" she was talking about was that she was no longer physical and her surroundings kept shifting around her all the time and it scared her. She was dead, but hadn't moved on. So, we created a power circle to send her calm energy. Kristen sent her a picture of a stable, calm, peaceful park setting, like in the Oversoul 7 trilogy, and told her to go there. Eventually we felt her energy calm down and felt she'd been able to focus on the park. Kristen also gave her the suggestion that someone would be along soon to help her - like maybe an aunt. John got the impression that Heidi had a daughter.]
THE EDGE
by Thomas Way
My friend Val was my age or perhaps older, though not as old as my
brother Bart, who was in the third grade. I was still in
kindergarten. Val looked normal to me, though his skin was kind of
grayish, and he walked through walls, which I thought was pretty
cool. I asked him how he could do that and he told me it was because
he was dead and it was no big deal.
"Why can't I do it?"
"Cuz you ain't dead yet."
"Well, when do I get to be dead?"
"Later, much later, unless you screw up."
My parents became concerned. After describing my "special" friend
to them, I overheard them talking in the living room.
"I must say, giving his friend the name Val was quite imaginative,"
said my mother. "But the books all say he should have given up
imaginary friends by now."
My father, as he often did when considering a problem, placed his
fingers on his temples and rubbed them a moment.
"Alice, all kids have imaginations. His brother Bart still had
imaginary friends at that age and eventually he got over it."
"But we don't know anyone named Val," said Mom.
"Probably got it from a cartoon on TV."
"He said Val told him that Bart was in danger."
"Alice, that's hogwash. All kids are in danger-of growing up!"
I told Val I wanted to introduce him to my parents and he agreed,
but of course they couldn't see him-or didn't want to see him. He
stood there as plain as day and my father even walked right through
him.
"See, son, there's nothing there."
I wanted to cry, but Val smiled and told me it was alright, most
people forget how to see when they get older.
I swore that would never happen to me.
The morning my brother Bart got hit by his third grade teacher's car
while waiting for a school bus, my Mom cried a lot. Bart was a
dreamer, the kind of kid that liked to chase butterflies but would
never harm them. And maybe he ran in front of that car chasing a
butterfly, because once he set his sights on something he paid
little attention to anything else. I missed Bart, but I didn't cry
about it. Val was also dead and he seemed okay.
The day Bart died Val stopped visiting. Instead I began to see
monsters at night, hiding under my bed or in the closet or hanging
around outside my bedroom door. I could see their shadows, see their
red eyes sometimes gleaming through the darkness, but worst of all,
I could hear them talking. I was sure that low grumbling was a
discussion about how they were going to suck out my insides.
As soon as I heard the monsters I'd start screaming and bawling
until my parents came in and searched the room. Of course, they
never found any monsters. After my parents left, I could hear the
demons snicker. When another round of crying ensued, my parents
promised to stand guard outside my door. I'd wait a few minutes,
then call out to them to make sure they were still there and, once
they assured me they were, I'd fitfully drift off to sleep. Later
they provided me with a flashlight and a Star Wars light saber to
make me think I was safe, but I knew better.
One night when I was stuck with a babysitter named Margaret who wore
thick glasses and picked her nose, a particularly nasty group of
monsters set up shop in my bedroom. Margaret was useless-she didn't
believe in monsters.
They had me surrounded: putrid, smelly green trolls with tail light
eyes and huge sharp teeth that clattered like knives in a kitchen
drawer. I was a goner, whimpering under my bedcovers, prepared to
meet my maker. Then I heard a voice I recognized. It was Bart!
I removed the covers and the monsters melted away. I called Bart's
name a few times, but he must have evaporated along with the trolls.
For a long time afterwards, I never saw or heard any more monsters.
Then one Friday night when I was almost seven, Dad brought home a
spicy pepperoni pizza. I inhaled a few slices and washed them down
with a liter of Coke. Later, after I finally got settled in bed, a
monster brazenly strutted out of my bedroom closet.
This critter's glowing eyes inhabited a kind of filmy gray body that
floated rather than walked. I squeezed my eyelids shut and buried my
head under the covers. I figured my parents would never believe me
so there was no use calling out to them. The thing chanted my name
and then it got quiet. I peeked out and there it stood, staring
right back at me. I was about to chuck up pizza and Coke when Bart
suddenly appeared. Like Val, he strode right through the wall, and
shouldered up next to the monster. The monster vanished into thin
air.
"Bart?" I exclaimed a bit too loudly.
He put his fingers to his lips and I nodded. We both knew it
wouldn't be good for my parents to overhear me talking to my dead
brother Bart.
"Bart," I whispered, "What're you doin' here?"
"Cleaning the monsters out. There was still one left in the closet."
"You were here before weren't you?" I asked excitedly.
"I stop by sometimes."
"Where ya been?"
"Heaven, I guess."
"What's it like?"
"Pretty cool. You can do almost anything you want."
"Cool. Can I come with you?"
"Sorry, they won't allow it."
"They? They who?"
"The angels."
I reached out to touch him but my hand passed right through his arm.
Just a cool moist feeling, like fog.
"I gotta go," he said.
"But you just got here. I thought you could do anything you wanted."
"Yeah, but in heaven, not here."
"I miss you Bart."
"I miss you too, little brother."
"Did you run out into the road like they said?"
"I guess I did."
"Did it hurt?"
"I don't think so."
I felt tears coming. Bart smiled.
"Look, little brother, do me a favor and don't do stupid things like
me."
He waved and faded in the darkness. I threw off the covers and
jumped out of bed, but he was gone.
That memory of Bart and his warning became my conscience, always
looking over my shoulder when I was about to make a stupid decision.
Like at the Edge of the World.
We used to hike to this bluff where a vertical rock face dropped off
hundreds of feet to a forested valley below. We called it the Edge
of the World.
On a clear day you could see the ocean far off in the distance. On
some days a marine layer of low clouds rolled in from the ocean and
filled all the canyons below. Looking down, it seemed like you were
in an airplane.
We often played a game at the Edge called I Dare You, as in I Dare
You To Hang Your Toes Off The Edge Of The World.
Legend had it that years ago Tommy Macklin's brother slipped off the
precipice during a game of I Dare You and fell hundreds of feet to
his death. When I asked my parents each responded with the same dire
warning: "Don't you ever go out to the Edge!" That was all the
confirmation I needed. I was now sure Tommy Macklin's brother had
plunged off the Edge.
One black Saturday afternoon when I was twelve I hiked out to the
Edge, sat down, and threw my legs over the precipice. The onset of
puberty made school and life in general suck big time. I wanted to
join Bart and Val and Tommy Macklin's brother in the worst way.
I sometimes daydreamed about jumping off the cliff into the cottony
clouds below. That day I intended to fulfill those dreams but as I
maneuvered closer to the edge, with only the wind holding me back, I
felt a cool moist hand on my shoulder. I looked up and saw a tall
teenager, a few years older than me. It was Bart, grown older, as if
were he still alive.
"Not yet," he said smiling.
I almost jumped up to embrace him but I could have slipped off the
edge. And then I did slip. Somehow, as I fell into the void, I was
able to twist my body and grab the edge of the rock ledge with my
hands. Terrified, I hung there a few moments and then, with Bart's
gossamer hands grasping my arms, found the strength to pull myself
back up and onto terra firma. After catching my breath, I looked
around for Bart but he wasn't there. I never saw him again.
Now that I'm older, like Val predicted, I don't see imaginary
friends anymore but I know they're still around.
Hey, Val!
Yo, Bart!
Thanks for keeping me safe from the monsters-and from falling off
the Edge.
The Skull by Donald R. Johnson
(Author's Note: Much of "The Skull" is made up of dreams that I have recently had.
I have expanded dialogue but have not changed the 'sense' of the
dreams.)
Part 1
In the dark hills outside of the city of Baldenze, Count Rydeen
constructed his house. He had it built to his exact specifications,
even though the workers complained. "Impractical!", they said, and
they suggested more efficient layouts but the Count waved money at
them and so they built it his way.
There were more than a hundred rooms in all, made of stone and
brick. The house stretched up to the top of a hill and then back
down into the valley. Every few days another room was added, each
different from the others. There were rooms leading to more rooms
and stairways to rooms above and to rooms below in the ground.
There were tunnels leading into the hill and hanging walkways
between balconies.
Construction had started on the top of the hill and when those rooms
were finished the Count moved into them, bringing his niece and a
few servants with him.
It was a very strange house. Only Count Rydeen knew that it was
meant to be more than just a building. The Count was not a good
man, most would say that he was evil. Certainly, there were victims
in the land that he had moved from who would have said so. Indeed,
when people started to wonder about him, he had left in the night
and come to Baldenze to live.
Count Rydeen wanted to hurt people, to cause terror, despair, and
then death and his house was designed to be his ultimate playground
of horror. He would lure his victims to his house, doors would
lock, and then there would be torment and fear while the unfortunate
person wandered from room to room, seeking an exit.
Sadly for him, but fortunately for everyone else, Count Rydeen did
not live to enjoy his maze of rooms. He suffered a stroke, alone in
the tower on the top of the hill and he was not found until his body
was cold and stiff. After his death, his niece dismissed the
workers and lived alone in the house for many years. She died an
old, old woman, eerie and silent. She had barely talked to those
who she had paid to bring food and supplies to her and so most of
their stories about her were just speculation.
When she was gone, the house remained empty until it fell apart;
nobody wanted to live there and few dared to even enter it. After
it crumbled, you would think that was the end of it but that is not
the case.
I'm not sure which world the house existed on but the mere physical
house was only a shadow of the real house that was born in Count
Rydeen's mind. For years he had fantasized about the evil things
that he wanted to commit upon others and the house in his mind was a
thousand times worse than the building he had ordered built. He was
just a little bit limited by what could be made real and what could
never be.
In his twisted mind however, there were no limits. I have seen
sights in the original that you would not believe, no matter how
vivid your imagination. In that 'imaginary' place, victims are
tortured by demons, flesh dissolves from bones or is eaten by green
light. Terror is a colorless word to use to describe the aura that
fills the endless rooms. But I have gotten ahead of myself in this
tale and I must explain a few things now.
The Count and I are related, you might say. We are both aspects of
a larger being and there are many other aspects as well. This being
sends parts of itself into many worlds in many different times; some
are truly fantastic in comparison to ours. The larger self wishes
to experience, and not all experience is what you and I would call
pleasant. That explains how someone like the Count could exist. I
feel that the majority of the self's aspects are more nice, however.
Certainly, I have never met any others nearly as bad.
Yes, I have met others. We meet in the dreamworld, at least that is
what it is called in the 'real' world. In fact, believe it or not,
it is larger, more diverse, more colorful, and much more real than
the 'real' world. In this inner universe, realities are stacked
according to a mathematics that would have turned Einstein into a
mumbling, twitching idiot. I receive my teaching on this subject
from an aspect named Verilna, in lessons that would require a
lifetime in the physical world but take no time at all in the inner
world. Just imagine worlds upon worlds next to worlds inside of
worlds thinking of other worlds. All of time and space, as well as
every variation on the theme which anyone could imagine which
creates new themes. And now, reach for the Ibuprofen, since your
head must be hurting.
So, Count Rydeen's house exists in the inner world, and at one time
or another, we unfortunate aspects fall into his trap.
Part 7a
It's an orange scene; a miniature world. I have a god's view of it
and I watch everything from above. I see orange trees, orange
dwellings and even little orange people. They walk around on their
orange legs, going about their orange business. Even though
everything is the same color, there is enough contrast that the
orange objects do not merge together in my sight.
An orange rain begins to fall on the scene. The orange people
scream and run for cover but it is too late for some of them. Where
the rain lands on them, it starts to melt their flesh. They fall to
the ground and thrash about until they become still and their bodies
come apart, melting into the surface.
I want to help but cannot access the realm; I can only watch. Also
I am not too sure that I would survive anyway.
The rain stops and some of the people start to come out of hiding.
They look for the victims but they have mostly disappeared. As they
move about they don't notice a flood of liquid moving downhill
towards them. When it reaches the people, a few of them scream and
fall into the shallow flood. The others run for cover, into their
buildings or they climb up on anything that is above the level of
the liquid but some are trapped and they fall into the fluid that is
eating their bodies.
The flood soon stops and the liquid has gathered in shallow pools.
Survivors slowly emerge and then run to the pools and start pulling
victims out. Some of these have lost their feet and legs. Worst
are the ones that fell facedown. They landed on their hands, which
dissolved, and then they fell into the liquid. When they are pulled
out, their faces and chests are gone and they are obviously dead.
An orange ball of fire streaks down from the sky and strikes one of
the rescuers in the back and he bursts into flame, starts running,
and falls into a pool. The flame is not affected by the liquid and
continues to burn. His fellow rescuers again run to the buildings
and most of them make it but some aren't so lucky. Balls of fire
which seem to be guided find them and they too are struck down.
A voice said "The Count really is a sick bastard, isn't he?". I
looked over and saw a young woman beside me. She had long brown
hair and she was wearing a white toga.
"Verilna, isn't that just a value-judgement?", I said.
She made a face at me and said "Crap. At this point in his
existence he is a sick bastard and that's the way it is. Don't
pretend otherwise; you'll just be fooling yourself."
I am glad to agree with her. I ask "What is this place? I never
imagined that something like this could exist. How can everything
be the same color? Are those real people?"
She closed her eyes and said "What is reality, Grasshopper? Is not
the thought as real as the deed? If you see it, does it not exist?
Meditate upon that for a while and you will understand."
"Ha ha, Oh Wise One. Why don't you just answer me and I'll meditate
later?"
She opened her eyes and now they are twice as large as they were
originally. "Ok. This place is only orange because you are outside
of it. If you were in there it would look different and you would
experience more normal coloration. Actually...do you remember the
box of crayons you had when you were 6 years old? I would say that
this world is the color of the crayon called 'Goldenrod', so it's
really more yellow than orange.
"Yes, they are real but not in the same way as your physical body is
real. Did you notice that these beings are solid? They do not have
internal organs, veins or any of that equipment. Their bodies move
because they will them to move; they do not not use muscles. They
are like solid lumps of clay."
I looked more closely and saw that she was right; in the half-bodies
lying there I saw nothing inside.
She continued, "Our thoughts literally create worlds, as you have
heard, and now you see proof of this. After such a place is
created, it continues to exist. The Count created this place in his
mind. The beings there are solid because the count sees all
creatures as being raw material for his twisted fantasies. They are
things, to him, and so they are not well-formed. Yet, they live,
and they feel. They are alien to us but they have consciousness, as
everything has consciousness."
I wondered, "Can't we stop this? It's not right that they should
suffer like that."
"No, it's not 'right', she remarked, "but it exists, just as many
terrible things exist. Should we spend eternity crusading through
the universe, stomping out fires and saving worlds? A noble idea,
but impractical. ATI is boundless, our job would never be finished;
for every wrong we righted another would be created. Your time is
better spent in creating worlds that are better places than those
that you find. Oh, you could probably save this place; it might be
a nice exercise for you. If you wish to spawn a God-self to battle
the Evil Count God, then do so and we will leave him here to fight
the fight for you. Meanwhile, we have other things places to be."
I sent off a wish towards the orange world and I went after
Verilna's thought, wondering what she had in mind.
Part 7b
I followed Varilna through rainbows and starlight to a new realm.
We rested in a glowing dustcloud and looked upon a large spiral
galaxy which I knew was my own. As I watched, the view zoomed in
until I saw a star cluster and shortly I was looking at a yellow
sun. A blue, green and white world circled the sun and I felt the
lifeforce emanating from it. I knew that it was my home.
Varilna said "Home again. You think you know it, right?"
"Yes" I answered, "There is no doubt about it. No matter how far I
wander, I always know how to find this place".
"Really? And how do you find the right you? Don't answer; let's
take a look."
Our view zoomed in again until I saw myself. I was at work, on the
top floor of the building. Varilna said "There you are yesterday.
Now let's add a time spread." I saw myself involved in many chores,
off to the 'left' and 'right'. "This will appear in a linear
fashion to you because that is the easiest way to show it. There
you are, your past days stretch off towards the left and your likely
future days off towards the right. Each day is lived by a different
you though the differences are not that great and you link the days
together with a theme of time.
"Now, there are other possible themes that you do indeed use. Let's
expand this picture to show some of these." I saw new views that
stretched off into new directions. Varilna continued ,"We are
incorporating some geometry that you do not experience in physical
life because your physical senses will not allow you to see. Now we
have a 'significance' spread. You are seeing different realities
here, just as your past and future are different realities, but now
we are sorting according to significance instead of time. Do you
see the significance?"
"Maybe," I said, "I work in a building that has three stories and a
basement. Here, next to that reality, I see myself working in the
same building but here it is 100 stories or more. I seem to have
the same duties. There is Dave, who owns the building, he is
talking with me near the fountain outside the building. I have been
there!
"In the other direction I see myself in a house that has three
floors. My friends and I are in the process of restoring the house.
I work as a window cleaner in the town. I have a business and
clean windows at buildings that sort of resemble the businesses in
my reality.
"I see other realities that are in this spread. There is another
house but it is ruined and abandoned. Sometimes my friends and I
sneak into it so that we can drink beer and smoke pot. There's the
car that I owned when I was 19. That was a great car! All of these
realities are linked together by this building. That is the
significance."
Varilna smiled and said "Yes, of course. Just as there are many
times and spaces, there are many significances you can follow and
they will all have their own spread of realities, as many as are
needed for expression. Here we have followed the theme of the
building but we can also follow themes of 'friends' or 'cars' or any
other theme that you can think of. These themes are not ordained by
the universe but are templates that YOU put on reality so that you
can order your experience.
"So much for that. Next time we meet we will explore realities in
which you yourself are different. Now there's something much more
interesting for you to think about! Prepare yourself.
Part 15a
I remember the first time I met Count Rydeen; it was in a dream of
course. But it followed an experience that I had in waking life and
I will tell you about that first.
Back in the days of my youth things were a bit more innocent and
safe than they seem to be now. I must have been about 10 years old
and I lived in a small town. In those days when I needed money I
would walk through the fields alongside the roads and I would pick
up returnable bottles that people had thrown out of their cars as
they; drove along. They were worth 2 cents apiece and the larger
ones were worth 5 cents. At that time I could buy a piece of
bubblegum for 1 cent so the bottles really added up.
I had my eye on some fishing equipment that I had seen in a catalog
and I needed more money than usual, at least 8 dollars. I searched
in all of the usual spots and then I tried a few of the neighbors.
There were a few people in the area that would give their
accumulated bottles to young people rather than go to the trouble of
taking them back to the store. I stopped at these houses and was
given quite a few bottles. I counted them and found that I only had
about half of what I needed. Being an impatient young boy I did not
think of saving the money until I could get more and I decided to
try some houses that I had not been to before.
Past the edge of town there was a kind of housing development. It
had been built after the end of WWII but had become somewhat
deserted recently. The houses were really nothing better than
shacks and it is not surprising that people did not want to live
there now. But with surprising cynicism for such a young person I
thought that there might be a few people who had accumulated a lot
of empty bottles. I stopped at home to drop off my bottles and then
hauled my wagon behind me as I headed out of town. I didn't tell my
parents where I was going; in those days they just told me to be
home by the time the streetlights turned on.
I knew of a path that led out of town to the north. It wasn't
really any shorter but it did go past a really cool swamp and there
were no cars as there were on the highway. It was getting towards
late afternoon so I didn't waste any time at the swamp though on
other days I might have tried to catch frogs or I might have taken
one of the rafts out on the water for a while.
After the swamp, the trail went through a wooded area. There used
to be a botanical garden there but it had been deserted for at least
20 years. All that was left was part of a house and a small
windmill that was falling apart but there were some wild roses and
other plants that you usually don't find in the wild.
After that, I crossed the highway and picked up the trail again and
in no time at all I was on the edge of the development, which we all
called Lowtown as a sort of joke. It really looked like crap; there
was a lot of junk lying about and half of the houses were empty. I
pulled the wagon along and stopped at the first house that seemed to
be occupied.
I knocked on the door and waited, trying to decide on exactly how to
act in this place. The door was jerked open and a woman looked down
on me. She was wearing a sundress and had no shoes on; her hair was
doing a good job of escaping from where she had tied it back. She
said "What the hell do YOU want?" Startled, I mumbled something
about collecting bottles and she said "Yeah, don't we all? If I had
any why would I give them to you? ". I said "Sorry to bother…."
But she slammed the door and I was alone again.
I moved on down the street, past more empty houses and at the end of
the street I saw a car in a driveway. I thought that I would try
one more house and then leave because I did not like this place
The house was painted a faded yellow and a lot of the paint had
peeled to reveal a dingy white underneath. In the driveway was a
beaten up black Cadillac. I hesitated before knocking on the door
but then decided to be bold.
There was a long moment and I almost left but I saw the curtains
move so I stayed. Soon the door opened and a man stood there. He
was a small man, hardly taller than me. He was wearing black pants
and a gray shirt with a black tie that was loosened up. He said
"Well well, what have we here?" I told him what I was doing and was
ready to leave when he said "You know, I think I have some bottles
lying around here. I never really think of taking them back. Why
don't you come on in while I find them?"
I didn't really want to go in but he was holding the door open and
was smiling at me so I went in; he really looked small and harmless
and friendly.
The living room was fairly empty but dusty. I followed him back to
the kitchen and listened to his small talk as he rummaged about in
the closet. He came out with a paper bag and said "Well, I thought
I had more than this. I've only got 6 or 7 bottles in here." I
said "Oh no, that's fine. That will really help a lot."
But he kept talking, "Now I'm sure I've got more around here. What
are you going to do with the money?" I told him and he kept looking
and he told me that he used to be a Boy Scout and that he really
liked to fish and camp and so on. He ended up at a door in the
hallway which he opened. He said "Of course! I put them in the
basement. I remember now. I've got quite a few down there; I'll
bet there are enough to almost fill your wagon!" He held the door
open and said "You'll have to help me carry them up, of course. Heh
heh, you'll have to work for your money!"
I looked down the stairs and time stopped. The area at the bottom
seemed to be part of another world. There was a stuffed fish
hanging on the wall; it looked at me with bulging horror-filled
eyes. The faded green carpeting looked like dead grass. A path of
greater wear led into the room off to the left and I felt a fog of
fear coming out of that room.
In my mind I saw a chair and a couch and a small bed, and a yellow
mist rose from them. On a table, there was a lamp with a yellow
lampshade. There was a painted scene on the lampshade, of running
boys who were flying kites. As I looked, the kites turned into
large red-eyed bats that swooped down on the boys, forcing them to
the ground and landing upon them.
A jagged scream was frozen in the air and a red trail led beneath
the floor. There, in a hole beneath the floor, was a skeleton lying
on its back. Its hands, tied with a wire coat hanger, were raised
before it like claws and the mouth was open, holding the other red
end of the frozen scream.
Time resumed and I could feel the man's hand upon my shoulder. I
turned around and saw a white face superimposed upon his own. It
was a severe looking face with a tight mouth that barely moved when
it said "Well boy? Do you want it or not?"
Speechless, I twisted myself away from his clutching hand and ran
back down the hallway, through the kitchen, and THROUGH the side
door which I did not open. I'll bet that I broke the lock on that
door. I did not stop for the wagon and I did not crawl under the
fence where the trail began; I jumped over it without slowing down.
In fact, I did not stop running until I reached the streets of my
own neighborhood, a distance which many years later I measured as
being 2.3 miles. The sun was setting and I had no way of knowing
that a worse terror was only a few hours away.
Part 27.5
I see a river in my mind. Gray and shining, it flows in a channel
that has no banks. I feel that the river is ATI and it contains all
that is. Somewhere in the center is a part of the flow that is
colored blue and it flows as a river within a river. It is ATIM,
all that is me. My reality flows from the future and disappears into
the past, downriver. At the very center, it is like a dark blue
rope and that is the part that I am concerned with right now: It
contains the dream and all other versions of the dream.
Upriver and Downriver = Future and Past. Left, Right, Up and Down =
Variations in Probabilities. This picture of reality remains in my
mind as I experience the dream.
The professor talks about conducting the experiment again using
Debbie as the subject. We remember how well she did the first time;
that experiment is almost legendary. In some parts of reality, it
may actually be legendary.
Debbie does not want to do it again. The memories cause her to feel
great fear for her sanity. The professor tries to persuade her and
when she turns away he pushes an injector against her arm and sends
the drug into her bloodstream. She gasps and looks at him in
disbelief but the drug is quick and she sags into his arms. He
lowers her onto the table and brings the sensors out. Some sensors
he connects to her temple, others on her neck. One hangs about an
inch in front of her eyes.
Debbie groans and the monitor comes alive with flowing patterns,
twisting and melting. I see a face or an object sometimes in the
patterns. As the effect of the drug levels off, the scene on the
monitor stabilizes. It now shows more normal images of places,
normal in that they are recognizable until they flow and become
different images. But they are not places that I have ever seen.
The Professor is excited. He says "Look at that! This is better
than the first time. I'm guessing that we are looking at actual
other planes of existence! Look at that sky color there, that's not
blue."
The scene changes and he exclaims again, "Tell me you've ever seen a
beast like that!"
The beast he refers to looks like a very skinny cow and it is
pulling a wagon that is loaded with branches and sticks.
I say, "Professor, this is wrong. You did this against her will."
He says, "No, no, it'll be ok, she'll agree that it was worth it.
Look at what we're seeing. This is incredible! The new software is
much better at decoding and the sensors are less intrusive. Because
of that, I was able to use a smaller dose of the drug and the side
effects won't be as bad this time. Just wait, you'll see."
I say, "No, it's still not right. I don't care what you….."
Debbie says, "Thank you for that, Dob."
The Professor and I turn to look at her. She sits up on the table
and starts to remove the sensors. The scene on the monitor shifts
and all that can be seen are two eyes looking out into the room.
The eyes are unusual; the irises are deep blue with white stars in
them and the pupils are coal black with golden specks. I have a bad
feeling.
Debbie removes the sensors from in front of her eyes and I see that
they are the eyes on the monitor. She says, "Professor, I told you
this was a bad idea and that I didn't want to do it. You have
violated me. Now you're going to see more than you want."
She slides down from the table and stands before us. Debbie seems
more relaxed than I have ever seen her, yet I can feel a power
coming from her. Her voice resonates within my body as she says,
"Look at your monitor now, William. Keep your eyes on it and I will
show you the universe." With energy barely restrained, she rests a
hand on his shoulder and turns him toward the screen. She smiles at
me and with her other hand she presses the injector against his arm
and gives him a dose of the drug. She says, "Oops, sorry, that was
an accident!"
The Professor looks at her, eyes wide. He clutches his arm,
saying, "No… what have you done? You know that I haven't been
tested for compatibility! This could…be…" He slumps and Debbie
guides him so that he rests on the floor against the wall.
The she turns to me and fixes me with her eyes, so deep. I feel as
if I am looking at a goddess; not a goddess of beauty necessarily
but a goddess of knowledge and power. She slowly moves towards me
and she says, "Dobson, do you trust me?"
I can only whisper, "Of course."
She whispers back, "Good" and then she injects me with the drug. I
feel very tired and then I fall into her eyes…
I slowly return to consciousness and find that I am walking along a
sidewalk and Debbie is walking beside me. She is talking, "And so
you wake up in a dream. Pretty strange, huh? Even more strange,
this is not your dream. A different you is dreaming and we are here
in his dream. I believe that this scene has some significance for
him; can you feel it? Start to speak and he will tell us about it."
I open my mouth to say that I don't know how but I sense an open
door in my mind. I recognize my other self and I feel afraid and
sad at the same time. He/I says, "Debbie! I hoped I'd find you.
Where did you go? Why did you leave me? You would not believe what
it's like here without you."
Debbie says, "I'm not really the person you think I am, Dobbie. The
person you knew is just another part of me and she had to leave.
Dobbie and Debbie, you were too much alike. You would have ended up
disliking her because you don't like yourself."
I say, "No! That's not true! You are best person I have ever
known. I know that we were meant to be together. You have to find
me again!"
She says, "You will know that I am right. You have chosen this life
for your own reasons and you will benefit from all of this."
Softly, "And I can tell you this: she will be waiting for you in
another place, someday. If you love her, then become the best you
that you can become and be true to yourself. Goodbye."
She touches my arm and the door is closed. I say, "That was
strange. What a sad person, was that me?"
Debbie raises her eyes to the gray sky and spins around, arms
outstretched. She laughs and the sky is blue now. She points at me
and says, "That was you and not you and he is me and I am more than
her. Is that what you'd like to believe? You were him but now are
not. I was her and now am a lot more. The Integrator Drug has
opened all of the doors in her mind and she is aware of all that she
can possibly be aware of without blowing fuses in her brain. Laugh
with me! It's all so great and funny too when you realize that YOU
DON'T HAVE TO FEAR…anything. You're too damn serious, you know?
"You are walking with Debbie but you are talking with her greater
self. We can be and we ARE anything we want to be. We live
different lives, and here, at least, we wall ourselves off from our
greater selves and all of the other selves too. Many, many little
selves all connected but unaware of the connections except when we
dream. Glorious dreams in the unending, known but unknown, colorful
dream world. You know what I mean, don't you? You do."
She does not let me respond, "The drug works better on her because
this is the second time she has used it and I think it had better be
the last time because if she uses it again, she will not want to be
a mere human anymore. It was too strong for her this time and in
desperation she called on me to help her and so here I am.
I ask, "Where is the Professor?"
Debbie, or DEBBIE says, "Oh yes, that butthole. He thought he was
so clever and that he was taking advantage of Debbie. He doesn't
know that we are never used; we create our own reality. I dropped
him off in Count Rydeen's House. He will have a bad trip there,
don't you think?" She laughs again, "Don't worry; I arranged with
his greater self to have him rescued. He will be educated, but not
in the same way that I am educating you. His greater self will
teach him a few things about respect for others.
"And now it is time for us to part for a while. You have kept the
vision of the river in your mind this entire time, have you not? It
is a dark line representing this line of probability, surrounded by
the blue cord of related probabilities, within the lighter blue rope
of all realms that you are involved in, at the center of the river
of ATI. Think on that for a while; you will not forget the image.
And…I will leave you with a gift…another river."
Another river: We follow the trail as it enters the woods. It's
wintertime or early spring but there is only a little bit of snow in
patches. Where the trail crosses the river, there are stepping
stones and then the trail continues on the other side.
It's more like a creek; it's about 5 feet wide and maybe a foot or
two deep. The water seems to flow clear and strong, too strong for
such a small stream. I sense an inner strength in the current. I
say to Daria, "This is THE river! I remember; it's been so long. I
can't believe it! How did I ever forget about this?"
It seems like it has been many years since I last saw this river.
The water is clear and alive. I know that it will be sweet tasting
and that drinking it will give me new life. And yet, it is more
than just a physical river. I feel reunited with the power I had in
my youth when the world was young and fresh. I kneel and drink from
the river of life/time/power and the memories of many dreams dance
on the edges of my mind.
Death In Vegas (Part 5)
by Dan Scranton
EXT. HIGHWAY - DAY
Jerry rides the motorcycle along the highway with a smile on his face. Wanda clings tightly to his waist. Bugs smack against Jerry's teeth, but he smiles right through it. Mr. Prickly's little HELMET flies off.
Sal pulls up next to him in the convertible.
SAL
Slow down!
JERRY
What?
SAL
Slow the fuck down!
JERRY
I thought you were in a hurry.
SAL
Hey, Evel Kneivel! I said slow down!
Jerry's smile is now gone as he slows the bike down to a reasonable speed.
INT. CONVERTIBLE - DAY
Gina shakes her head.
GINA
What's your problem?
SAL
You want to scrape his carcass off the
highway? You know who'd get blamed for
that? Me!
GINA
Blamed?
SAL
That's right. Ma always blamed me for
everything! And little Jerry could do
no wrong. She fuckin' pampered the kid.
Made him into the retard he is now.
GINA
Retard? Your brother is a sweet, sweet
man.
SAL
You didn't know him before. He was
pathetic. Only left his apartment once
a week to see his fuckin' doctor.
Pathetic.
INT. CAESAR'S PALACE CASINO - DAY
Doctor Shockley walks through the casino, looking around as he does.
Wilma sits at a blackjack table. Hal stands dutifully behind her holding the oxygen tank.
The DEALER deals.
WILMA
Hit me.
DEALER
You've got twenty showing.
WILMA
Hit me before I order him to hit you
with that!
She motions towards Hal and the tank.
The Dealer deals her another card. It's an ACE.
WILMA
You should be ashamed of yourself.
Doctor Shockley spots Wilma and rushes over to her.
DOCTOR SHOCKLEY
Wilma. Thank God I found you.
WILMA
Wait a minute. You might be bad luck.
Deal!
The Dealer deals another hand. Wilma has sixteen showing.
WILMA
Out!
DOCTOR SHOCKLEY
But I flew all the way from New Yo-
WILMA
Out!
Hal grabs Doctor Shockley and drags him away.
DOCTOR SHOCKLEY
It's about Jerry!
Wilma gasps for air. She rises from the table and turns the valve on the tank.
WILMA
Bring him back!
Hal drags Doctor Shockley back to the table.
DOCTOR SHOCKLEY
We should really go somewhere private.
WILMA
Do you know how much energy it takes for
me to even blink? Tell me now!
DOCTOR SHOCKLEY
Jerry thinks he's dying.
Wilma breathes heavily again.
WILMA
What?!?
DOCTOR SHOCKLEY
He went to the hospital for an MRI, and
his chart got mixed up with someone
else's. He was told he would die in six
weeks.
WILMA
Kill!
Hall grabs Doctor Shockley by the neck and lifts him in the air. Doctor Shockley struggles to breathe and talk.
DOCTOR SHOCKLEY
It-, wasn't-, me. It-, was-, another-,
doctor-
WILMA
Where is he?
DOCTOR SHOCKLEY
The-, other-, doctor-, or-, Jerry-?
WILMA
Jerry!
DOCTOR SHOCKLEY
I-, don't-, know-
SECURITY GUARDS scurry over and try to take Hal down, but they just bounce off of him. Finally, one of the Guards uses a TASER to shock Hal, and he and Doctor Shockley fall to the ground.
WILMA
What have you done to my boy?!
DOCTOR SHOCKLEY
I, I thought you might, might know where
he would be.
The Guards pick Hal up and drag him off.
WILMA
Hold it! Hold it right there!
The Guards stop and look back at Wilma.
WILMA
He's with me.
The Guards turn around and start to drag Hal off again.
WILMA
I'm Wilma fucking Nert.
The Guards drop Hal and run as if they just saw Godzilla emerge from the ocean.
WILMA
All right, Shockley. You can live. For
now!
Doctor Shockley smiles uncomfortably.
WILMA
But you'd better pray nothing happens to
my boy.
EXT. MOTEL ROOM - NIGHT
Jerry enters the room with BEER, JUNK FOOD, and CIGARETTES. Wanda stretches out on the floor.
JERRY
I filled my prescription!
Wanda jumps up from the floor.
JERRY
Wow. You're pretty nimble.
She lifts her right leg up so that her toes point at the ceiling while standing on the other leg. Jerry looks turned on.
JERRY
Oh, my.
Jerry drops everything and kisses Wanda passionately.
INT. MOTEL ROOM - NIGHT
Jerry and Wanda lie in bed smoking CIGARETTES.
JERRY
I remember when I was a kid and I used
to dream about the kind of girl I would
marry. I was probably the only boy in
the world who dreamt about his wedding!
WANDA
Did she look like me?
JERRY
Are you kidding? She was you. Pretty,
kind, body of a gymnast.
Wanda laughs.
WANDA
I only dreamt of being a star. That's
all I ever wanted out of life. Boys
were always more interested in me than
I was in them.
JERRY
Oh. I see.
WANDA
No. This is different. I know you
would never get in the way of my dream.
JERRY
How come you didn't go to Vegas sooner?
WANDA
I wanted to. But it's scary, you know?
What if I don't make it?
JERRY
The important thing is that you try. I
mean, I spent my entire life avoiding
what I thought might hurt me, and look
how I wound up.
WANDA
But, what if I don't make it? And then,
then you're gonna-
She weeps. Jerry holds her. Mr. Prickly sits on the end table. Jerry turns Mr. Prickly's smile upside down, making it into a frown.
INT. HOTEL CASINO LOBBY - NIGHT
Mitch, wearing his trademark scowl, approaches the front desk at the Riviera Hotel and Casino. Louie stands beside him. The CLERK stands behind a counter.
CLERK
I'm sorry, but we cannot release the
names of our guests. I'm sure you can
appreciate that.
LOUIE
Oh, I can appreciate it. Sure. But my
friend here, ya see, he's not as
understanding as I am.
Mitch reaches forward, grabs the Clerk by the collar, and lifts him from behind the counter. He pulls the Clerk to their side of the counter and throws him onto the ground. Mitch puts his foot on the Clerk's groin and presses down.
CLERK
Aaaahhhh!
Other CLERKS pick up their WALKIE-TALKIES and speak into them frantically.
LOUIE
Security'll be here in a minute, and
then my friend and I will be on our way.
But do you know how much damage can be
done to the male anatomy in sixty
seconds? Let's just say, if you decided
to become a female impersonator, there'd
be very little left to hide.
CLERK
I don't remember seeing any guests with
that name!
LOUIE
My friend still looks unsatisfied.
CLERK
Okay. Okay. I know a guy. He can hack
into the computers of all the hotels on
the strip. He'll find your friend.
Mitch picks his foot up. The Clerk grabs his package.
LOUIE
And where can we find this gentleman?
CLERK
His number is 555-432-0199.
LOUIE
Thank you. We had a pleasant stay.
Louie and Mitch casually walk out of the hotel, just SECURITY GUARDS rush into the lobby.
INT. DINGY APARTMENT - NIGHT
TAG STEVENS, 28 and unclean, reclines on a computer chair. Louie and Mitch sit opposite him on a beat up old couch.
TAG
The Riviera, huh? Must've been Jay.
Good guy.
Tag takes a sip of his soda
.
TAG (CONT'D)
So this is always awkward for me, but I
do need to get paid up front.
LOUIE
How 'bout this. You find our guy, and
Mitch here won't tear your face off with
his teeth?
TAG
That-, that sounds fair.
Tag quickly types away at his keyboard.
TAG
What was the name again?
LOUIE
Nert. With an 'e.'
TAG
Okay. Nert with an 'e.'
He types for a few moments more, sweat beating up on his forehead and rolling down his cheek.
LOUIE
Please. Take your time.
TAG
Okay. Got it. Nert, Wilma. Caesar's.
LOUIE
That's not the Nert we're lookin' for.
TAG
Okay.
Tag types some more on the keyboard. He shakes his head.
TAG (CONT'D)
That-, that's the only one.
LOUIE
Okay, Mitch. Soup's on.
Tag covers his face.
TAG
Wait! Maybe she-, she's a relative!
Maybe your friend is with her!
Louie holds his hand up. Mitch stops.
LOUIE
Gimme the number over there.
Louie takes out a CELL PHONE and dials.
INT. WILMA'S SUITE - NIGHT
Wilma paces across the floor as Doctor Shockley sits in a CHAIR nursing a DRINK.
WILMA
Where the fuck could he be!?!?
The PHONE RINGS. Wilma leaps to answer it.
WILMA
Jerry?
LOUIE (O.S.)
Yeah, I'm actually lookin' for a friend
of mine. Name's Sal Nert. You know
him?
WILMA
Know him? The good-for-nothing prick
spent nine months freeloadin' in my
uterus. Now don't call here again!
She slams the phone down.
INT. TAG'S APARTMENT - NIGHT
Louie folds up his cell phone.
LOUIE
Close enough. You can keep your face.
Louie gives Tag a few love taps on the face with his hand.
TAG
Thank you. Thank you.
LOUIE
Just gimme the room number.
TAG
Two thirty four.
Louie and Mitch exit.
LOUIE (O.S.)
You know you should really hire someone
to come in here and redecorate. Maybe
you could get on one a them reality
makeover shows.
TAG
Thanks! Thanks! I'll do that!
Tag caresses his face.
INT. MOTEL ROOM - DAY
Jerry caresses Wanda's face, and she smiles as she wakes up. She stretches out her arms and yawns.
JERRY
Good morning.
WANDA
'Morning.
JERRY
Sorry to wake you, but Sal's on the war
path again. We have to get going soon.
WANDA
Can't we just stay here forever?
JERRY
I'd like that.
WANDA
Then let's do it. Let's just stay right
here.
She holds Jerry tightly in her arms.
JERRY
I-, I actually do want to see my ma one
last time, and if I can help Sal out-
WANDA
Oh, I knew you were gonna say that.
JERRY
I also want to see your first
performance before I-, I pass.
WANDA
I think you've seen everything I got.
JERRY
You know what I mean.
WANDA
I just don't want to disappoint you.
JERRY
You never could.
They kiss. Jerry returns Mr. Prickly's mouth to its original smiling position.
EXT. HIGHWAY - DAY
Mr. Prickly sits taped to the front of the bike as Jerry and Wanda motor down the highway with Jerry and Gina riding behind them in the convertible.
INT. CAESAR'S PALACE - DAY
Mitch and Louie exit an elevator and walk down a hallway. They stop at room 234. Louie KNOCKS.
The door swings open. Wilma stands on the other side.
WILMA
Jerry?!?!
She sees Louie and Mitch and SLAMS the door shut.
WILMA (O.S.)
Shit!
LOUIE
Who the hell is Jerry?
Mitch shrugs his shoulders. Louie KNOCKS once again. Wilma answers the door.
WILMA
What!?
LOUIE
We're from casino security. We'd like
to speak with Sal Nert.
WILMA
First of all, you're not from casino
security, cuz I know every last one a
those bottom feeders. And second, if
Sal showed his face in this casino, I'd
shove my tank up his ass and make him
swallow fire!
She SLAMS the door again.
LOUIE
I guess he ain't here.
INT. WILMA'S HOTEL ROOM - DAY
Wilma paces as Doctor Shockley sits and Hal follows Wilma while carrying the tank.
DOCTOR SHOCKLEY
Who was it?
WILMA
Couple a goons.
DOCTOR SHOCKLEY
Goons?
WILMA
Lookin' for my good-for-nothin' son.
DOCTOR SHOCKLEY
Jerry?
WILMA
No, dip shit. The other one. The
loser. The fuckwad. The semen stain.
Sal!
INT. CAESAR'S PALACE - DAY
Sal enters the casino with Gina, Jerry, and Wanda in tow. They stand in front of the elevator. The doors open, and Mitch and Louie stand inside.
(This is going to be a different elevator than the one Jerry, et al. is standing in front of, but the audience won't know that until we see them get onto their elevator just as Mitch and Louie exit theirs.)
INT. HALLWAY - DAY
Jerry, Sal, Gina, and Wanda stand outside the door. Jerry holds Mr. Prickly in his hands. Sal takes a deep breath. Jerry KNOCKS. The door swings open.
WILMA
I told you to get the fu-
Wanda sees Jerry and stops in mid-sentence. She hugs him.
WILMA
Oh, my God! You're all right! You're
all right.
JERRY
Yeah, ma. I'm fine.
WILMA
Oh, son. I was so worried!
JERRY
How did you-
Jerry looks over Wilma's shoulder to see Dr. Shockley.
JERRY
Oh, hi, doctor.
DR. SHOCKLEY
Jerry, we've got some good news.
WILMA
Wait a minute.
Wilma eyes Sal.
WILMA (CONT'D)
What the hell is he doin' here?
JERRY
Ma, I wanted-
She shuts the door in Sal's face as she pulls Jerry inside. Sal, Gina and Wanda stand outside the door.
SAL
It's okay. He'll soften her up.
INT. WILMA'S HOTEL ROOM - DAY
Wilma and Doctor Shockley stand opposite Jerry, who holds Mr. Prickly in his hands.
WILMA
Still got the little cactus, huh?
She shakes her head.
JERRY
He has a name. And it's Mr. Prickly.
Say hello, Mr. Prickly.
WILMA
Now listen here, son. The fucking
retard who did your test screwed it up.
JERRY
But, ma. Sal-
WILMA
You are not going to die.
Jerry's face melts.
JERRY
What?
DOCTOR SHOCKLEY
Your chart got switched with another
patient's. I'm so sorry.
WILMA
Yeah. You'll be hearing from my
lawyers, Doctor Sorry.
Jerry plops down in a chair.
JERRY
You mean, I'm not dying?
DOCTOR SHOCKLEY
Your MRI showed nothing even resembling
a brain tumor. You're in perfect
health.
WILMA
So what's that jackass doing with ya?
JERRY
Ah, yeah. Ma, could you give me fifty
grand?
WILMA
I see. That's why those goons were
lookin' for 'im, huh? Well, he's not
gettin' a penny from me!
JERRY
But, ma-
WILMA
Don't "but, ma" me! He's gotta learn!
INT. HALLWAY - DAY
Sal, Gina, and Wanda still stand outside the door.
WILMA (O.S.)
He's a worthless piece of scum! He's
like an enema and a douche in the same
fuckin' bag. He's a pile of crap
wrapped in skin!
GINA
Oh, my God. Honey, I'm so sorry.
She hugs him.
Sal looks at Wanda and shrugs.
SAL
I've heard worse.
Gina releases her embrace. There are tears in her eyes.
SAL (CONT'D)
We should go. If I heard right, Mitch
and Louie are in Vegas, and their not
here to see Tom Jones.
WANDA
Good luck, you guys.
SAL
I think I'd rather be in our position
than yours.
WILMA (O.S.)
You're in love?!?! With one of the
tramps out in the hallway!? I thought
they were hookers!
Gina hugs Wanda.
GINA
Be strong. He's worth it.
WANDA
I know.
Gina and Sal walk down the hall.
Jerry opens the door and pokes his head out.
JERRY
Where'd they go?
WANDA
How much more of this are you gonna
take?
JERRY
Wanda, I have some news.
Jerry exits the hotel room and stands in the hallway.
JERRY (CONT'D)
I'm not dying.
WANDA
What?
JERRY
I'm not dying. They made a mistake.
I'm completely healthy.
WANDA
Oh, Jerry!
She hugs him.
Wilma swings the door open.
WILMA
Oh, Jesus!
JERRY
Ma, this is Wanda. Wanda, Ma.
WANDA
It's so nice to meet you.
Wanda extends her hand.
WILMA
You took my boy's innocence, didn't you?
Harlot! Whore! Tramp!
JERRY
Ma, please! You cannot talk to her like
that!
Wilma gets up in Jerry's face.
WILMA
I can do whatever the hell I want. I'm
your fucking mother!
JERRY
Not until you respect the woman I love
and the brother I'm just starting to
know.
Jerry takes Wanda by the hand, and they walk down the hallway. Wilma stands and bellows.
WILMA
You come back here, Jerry Eugene Nert!
Right now! Right fucking now!
Wilma breathes heavily and hunches over.
WILMA
Hal! Tank!
Jerry and Wanda enter the stairwell.
INT. STAIRWELL - DAY
Jerry and Wanda kiss passionately.
JERRY
Let's go celebrate.
WANDA
Yeah!
JERRY
What do you want to do?
WANDA
Can we see a show?
JERRY
Of course. Mr. Prickly loves good
choreography.
They hold hands as they descend the stairs together.
EXT. VEGAS STRIP - DAY
Rick (Wanda's ex-boyfriend) rides on the back of KILLER's Harley. Killer is just one of an entire GANG of motorcycle enthusiasts. They make more noise than an avalanche as they ride.
RICK
She's gotta be here by now. And I'll
bet my left nut she's goin' to see one
a them goddamn shows.
Rick points to a SIGN.
RICK (CONT'D)
Let's try that one.
Killer turns his bike into the parking lot of a casino. All the other gang members follow suit.
INT. GOLDEN NUGGET CASINO SHOWROOM - DAY
Rick walks down the aisle looking at all the PATRONS who are enjoying a full-blown Vegas show. He stops right in front of the stage and turns around to scan the audience.
PATRON (O.S.)
Sit down!
Rick pulls out a GUN.
PATRON (O.S.)
Or stand. Standing's good too.
Rick walks back up the aisle and puts his gun away.
INT. MGM GRAND SHOWROOM - NIGHT
Jerry and Wanda enter the showroom. Wanda clutches Jerry's arm, and her enthusiasm is quite evident.
WANDA
Oh, this is so exciting! I wonder if
it'll be as good as the movie.
JERRY
The movie?
WANDA
Showgirls.
JERRY
Oh, yeah. I'm guessing that it will be.
(under his breath)
Shut up, Mr. Prickly.
They take their seats.
INT. MGM GRAND SHOWROOM - NIGHT
The show takes place on the stage. The SHOWGIRLS perform flawlessly, the music fills the room, and the pyrotechnics are also impressive.
Wanda wears a huge smile on her face. Jerry also looks as though he's enjoying himself.
Rick enters the showroom and scans the audience. He walks slowly down the aisle, eyeing each and every patron. He stops at Jerry and Wanda's aisle and pulls out his gun.
RICK
All right, bitch! You're comin' with
me!
Patrons SHRIEK as they see Rick brandishing the gun.
Jerry cowers in his seat, holding Mr. Prickly in front of himself. Wanda looks to Jerry for help, but our hero is paralyzed. Rick makes his way into the row as Patrons scatter from the showroom.
WANDA
Jerry? Jerry!
JERRY
He-, he has a gun.
Wanda grabs Jerry by the hand. Rick grabs her other arm and yanks her away.
Rick looks back at Jerry.
RICK
I'm not done with you! You're a dead
man. You hear me?!?! A dead man!
Rick drags Wanda out of the showroom as Jerry sits all curled up in his chair, rocking back and forth.
WANDA
Jerry! Jerry!
Rick and Wanda exit the showroom.
Jerry is the only patron left sitting in his seat. He looks at Mr. Prickly.
JERRY
Oh that's very convenient, Mr. Prickly.
But I don't remember seeing you jump to
her aid.
Will Jerry save Wanda or will he once again be ruled by his fears? Will Mitch and Louie find Sal? Will Mr. Prickley save the day? Find out next month with the exciting conclusion of Death In Vegas
Announcements
A KRIS WORKSHOP --
Discover Your Passionate Self!
Hosted by Paul &
Joanne Helfrich. Pre-registration required.
WHEN: Saturday & Sunday February 11-12, 2006, 10 AM-4
PM
WHERE: Castaic, California (45 miles north of Los Angeles
Airport)
WHY: Take a break from Winter and explore a practical
approach to living consciously. A Kris workshop always has a big
turn out and will be a great opportunity to meet birds of a feather
as well as interact with Kris in person over two full days!
WHO: Serge J. Grandbois is an internationally respected
motivational speaker.
 “Serge Joseph
Grandbois is the exceptional channel for Kris, a compassionate and
intelligent entity, or Energy Personality Gestalt, as he describes
himself. Serge is one of the clearest vessels for non-physical
communication in the world today. He has given voice to Kris for
nearly 25 years, helping many people from all walks of life. He is
fascinating!” ~ The Colorado Seth Conference
COST: On or Before January 12: $160 US
After January 12: $185 US
Private Sessions with Kris (a limited number are available)
On or Before January 12: $150 US
After January 12: $175 US
TO REGISTER & FULL DETAILS:
Kris Workshop
Kris Chronicles Home
Free transcripts, newsletter, and other products
Kris Chronicles Discussion Forum on NewWorldView
NOW AVAILABLE
WHAT A COINCIDENCE Understanding Synchronicity In Everyday Life by Susan M Watkins
Overview:
What if all those seemingly insignificant little What a coincidence!
moments you've experienced were actually connected, were part of a
larger, more complex coincidence story?
What if they were hinting at something very personal and important
about yourself—and about the workings of human consciousness?
Would you listen?
Susan Watkins does. For more than 35 years she's been documenting
and studying the coincidences that have happened in her life. What
she's discovered is that seemingly simple coincidences—thinking of
an old friend and their calling seconds later, for example—are often
pieces of larger, more complex and meaningful "coincidence clusters."
A former newspaper reporter and the author of five books, Watkins
has always been intrigued by coincidences—what they mean in our
everyday lives, and in the grander scheme of things. What, she asks,
do these coincidence clusters say about human consciousness and
human connection? In What a Coincidence! she presents coincidence
clusters that are utterly astounding. What they reveal is life-
altering.
What a Coincidence! is an exciting, groundbreaking journey. Along
the way Watkins offers profound insights as well as practical
pointers on how to become aware of the coincidence clusters in our
own lives. She also shows us how to document coincidences so that
we, too, can reap their valuable rewards. We'll never brush off
those What a Coincidence! moments again.
Greetings from the Portland-Metro Seth Readers' Guild
We meet
the 2nd
and 4th Tuesdays of every month.
Our first meeting of the month is for reading aloud and
commenting. Right
now, we are reading "The Early Sessions, Book 4" in the first half
of the meeting, then we take a break for drinks and treats and
conversation. During the second half of the meeting we have started
reading "Seth Speaks". We end the meeting variously with a psy-time,
or reading from the Seth deck of cards. Of course the reading goes
slowly, because we always have a reason to stop the flow for
comments--current events, family or personal tie-ins, etc. This is
how we use the material, and it seems to work.
Our second meeting of the month is what we call the experiential
meeting, which can range from a past-life hypnosis psy-time, to a
video of interest on a current topic, or a time of general
discussion. We did some remote-viewing experiments with pretty good
results.
Our meetings start at 7 PM and go to 10 PM. The host provides
tea,
coffee or other drinks, and we bring finger food. There is
networking, friendship, and stimulating talk on all kinds of
subjects during the break. We aim to keep our focus on our primary
reality, and learn from each other how to deal constructively with
the secondary reality of our greater world.
Drop-ins are welcome--call Marie 503-232-6469 or email
harakne@yahoo.com
for our meeting locations or any cancellations."
Bay Area Seth Group 2005-06 Season!
After a lovely but too-short summer we are ready to ramp up again
for even more lively gatherings of the Bay Area Seth Group. We meet
the 2nd Saturday of each month from 3-6pm in the Excelsior District
of San Francisco (we take off December and June-August). The next
gathering is Saturday, September 10th. You can read a general
overview at: http://www.consciousnessarts.com/seth_group.html
This year we are going to be even more experiential and will be
using the Practice Elements from The Unknown Reality as a jumping
off point. We also plan to do some explorations into group dreams.
Of course, we are SPONTANEOUS beings and often don't follow our
plans at all, so anything can happen!
If you are interested in attending or getting notices of upcoming
meetings, please send me your email address and I'll put you on our
Evite list.
Blissful Blessings,
Kerstin
Visit the newly expanded Conscious Creation Shop
Featuring Reality Creation/Metaphysical designs by Kristen Fox and John McNally. T-shirts, sweatshirts bumper stickers, mugs and more!
Seth Applied
New Haven, CT
October 27-30, 2005
The Fine Art of Forming and Transforming Individual and Mass
Reality, A Fresh Creative Drama?
Your thoughts now seed worlds. It is only because you do
not know that, that what I say sounds strange. You are here
because your thoughts before your births seeded this world into
which you would grow. You did not come here strangers. There
is still, you see, much to learn. ESP Class 29 Sept 1979
As Seth readers we are aware that our beliefs, thoughts and
expectations create our individual and mass reality seed our
world/planet. We know this yet many of us wonder why we continue
to be faced with events that are not pleasing to us, events
that appear to lack value fulfillment for so many, and we wonder
why this is so. Does this happen because we allow our focus
and attention, our fine sense of discrimination to be drawn
away from our inbuilt propensity to form ?dazzling mental and
psychological creations i.e. our civilization its arts and sciences.
During our 'Seth Applied' weekend we aim to re-establish a 'feel'
for those in-born leanings through stimulating discussion centered
on the significance of Dreams, Framework 2, (inner reality),
use of the Imagination, Focus and Expectation. We will also
visit a display of the Jane Roberts papers housed in Sterling
Memorial Library at Yale. And best of all we will take time
to playfully and rambunctiously ?daydream? (envision) a society
more in line with an evolving consciousness intent on value
fulfillment for all. And better still during our weekend we
will apply Seth?'s suggestion to 'act as if' all this has taken
place, as we concentrate on what we want. So join us bringing
not only your ideas of what areas of a society/civilization
you feel disposed towards transforming, but most importantly
your good intent, your sense humor, and ready to share your
personal experiences and successes through use of the Seth material.
The world is changed in imagination. It is changed in dreams.
It is changed in inner creativity and through your dreams, and
then it is created physically.
LOCATION:
MARRIOTT COURTYARD
30 Whalley Avenue
New Haven, CT 06511
Room Rate: $115.00 per night (mention Seth event).
Phone: 1-203-777-6221
Fax: 1-203-772-1089
Registration Fee: $270 Early Bird (before September 1st).
After September 1: $300 Leisurely Bird
Registration Fee includes Thursday night pizza and dinner on
Saturday.
Contact:
Mary Dillman
437 Orange Street, Fl 3
New Haven CT 06511-6202
Email: marydillman@earthlink.net
Links
The
Classic Seth Portrait by Rob Butts This is a low resolution
scan for those interested.
Monthly Reminders
Announcing New Seth Books! Volumes 3 and 4 of The Personal
Sessions are now available from Rick Stack and New Awareness
Network! Check: http://www.sethcenter.com
DAS
Handbooks - A series that explores dreaming, art,
and science. Compiled by Miss Blake.
UFOs
and Seth’s "Observations" - A two-part series that
examines the UFO phenomenon. Compiled and comments Mark M. Giese.
A
Brief, Probable History of Sethnet - what/who gave
birth to this group and why? Compiled by Paul M. Helfrich.
Who
is the "You" in You Create Your Own Reality? -
a three-part essay that explores the nature of the Self who creates
all its reality. By Paul M. Helfrich.
Greg Polson's Early Sessions Index, Vol. 9
is now available. (This completes the set of all nine books!)
Alphabetical
Order Page
Order
Check out the Mindscapes
Music CD: "A picture is worth a thousand words,
but a song is worth a thousand pictures." Listen online to the
Mindscapes CD, 22 tracks of new music from PAUL Helfrich. Also
available for purchase.
Cool Conscious Creation Resources on the Web
2005
Conscious Creation Calendar of Events
Sethnet
Basics - get the most out of Sethnet
Seth
Library - lots of free articles and material
CCSearch
engine - tons of great resources, photos, articles,
exercises, quotes, etc.
Random
Seth quotes
Conscious
Creation - explore the concepts introduced by Seth/Jane
Roberts, and other sources. Hosted by John McNally and Kristen
Fox.
The
Elias forum - website by PAUL & Joanne Helfrich
contains an expansion of many of the conscious creation concepts
introduced by Seth/Jane Roberts, channeled by Mary Ennis.
What if the Seth material was a foundation to be expanded later
by other channeled sources? Can any perennial source ever be
considered complete AND infallible?
Seth readers will want to check out:
Introduction
& Overview
A
Seth, Elias Comparative Overview (Updated!)
Digest:
Seth, Jane Roberts
The
Kris Chronicles - an expansion of many of the conscious
creation concepts introduced by Seth/Jane Roberts, channeled
by Serge Grandbois.
NewWorldView
- provides a forum to explore the practical applications of
integral conscious creation, dream-art science, and more.
Explore the creative worlds of John McNally and Kristen Fox
Cofounders of the Conscious Creation Website and Email group
John and Kristen share interests in writing, art, photography and cooking which they explore on a variety of websites:
John's weblog: Parabolic Mirror
Intuitive Astrology site: Psychic Weather
Writing: Mind Altering Fiction
Photography: http://www.flickr.com/telepathicfrog
Cooking: Food Follies
Shop: Telepathic Frog Designs
Shop Powered By Tshirts
Kristen's weblog: FoxVox
Art & Photo Gallery: Art of FoxVox
Art & Photo Prints: http://foxvox.deviantart.com/store
Floral Designs Shop: Flower Bed Gifts
T Shirt Reviews Tshirt Casserole
Otherfocus.com
Other Focus.com the personal website of Donald R. Johnson
Useful Email Addresses
Post message: sethnet@yahoogroups.com
Subscribe: sethnet-subscribe@yahoogroups.com
Unsubscribe: sethnet-unsubscribe@yahoogroups.com
List Admin: helfrich@cafemuse.com
Yahoo Help: support@yahoogroups.com
Moderation: sethnet-owner@yahoogroups.com
|
|
|
