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Mande Burung Expedition Video

Saturday, December 18th, 2010

Once again, Adam Davies has been so kind as to share his experiences with the readers of The Paranomalist. For regular readers of our website, I’m sure that you know that Adam was recently searching for the Mande Burung, a large, bipedal hominoid reportedly seen by many of the inhabitants of the Garo Hills region of India.

Adam Davies, Director of the Centre for Fortean Zoology Richard Freeman, and a team of additional researchers met with local M-B researcher Dipu Marak, spending approximately three weeks investigating this rugged, heavily forested and mountainous area of northeastern India for evidence of the elusive creature. In addition to collecting physical evidence, the cryptid researchers interviewed many of the native inhabitants who reported to have seen the Mande Burung.

Please enjoy a portion of Adam’s video journal of his most recent cryptozoological investigation:

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A Relic Gigantopithecus?

Tuesday, December 14th, 2010

Once again, cryptid researcher Adam Davies of Manchester, England has kindly offered to let me to post on The Paranomalist some of his thoughts and observations on his recent expedition in search of the Mande Burung in India’s West Garo Hills. Adam also has sent me some photos, which I believe will give the reader some feel for the rugged beauty of the mountainous jungle terrain in this northeastern province of India. Thanks again for sharing this, Adam. – John Carlson 

Could the Mande Burung of India be a relic Gigantopithecus?

mande burung expedition research team

mande burung expedition research team

I have started looking through my notes now, and the detailed interviews we conducted with eyewitnesses to the creature, and I thought I would share a few facts with you from them. Firstly, it appears to be omnivorous, and seems to make the most of its environment’s food sources… I was told it has been sighted in pineapple plantations. One of the eyewitnesses described how he had seen a mother and baby eating bamboo. Secondly it displays aggression. For example, another witness told how he had been chased out of a bamboo plantation. Could this have been a mock charge, in a similar fashion to the Gorilla? 

Before I entered the jungle, I was also told by one of the forest guides that it ate freshwater crabs and I subsequently found what appeared to be MB prints, turned over rocks, and crab shells in a small stream. All described the creature as being huge, at least 9 feet tall, it seems, and covered in black hair. The consistency of the descriptions from the witnesses, especially under the scrutiny I gave them, was very encouraging. 

West Garo Hills of northeast India

The rugged terrain of West Garo Hills in northeast India

I have shown some of my photos to some of my friends now. I expected them to remark on the beauty of the environment, or the snapshots of tribal life, such as the 100 drums Wangala festival, which I attended. But no. Almost without fail, most have taken the mick out of my jungle trousers. 

Ladies and Gentlemen, I was not in Manchester then, and cammo pants and braces really are a good look out there. LOL. 

I think I know what I ‘ll be getting for Christmas……….

The XYZ Files — Part Two

Monday, December 13th, 2010

A Load of BOLs

Frater Auxilior Arti

Frater Auxilior Arti

Stories about spooklights used to give me the chills, and Brad Steiger could hand them out better than anybody when I was young and curious. The Marfa lights were always in the paranormal news, as were the Brown Mountain lights, the Chapel Hill lights, the Silver Cliffs Cemetery Lights and of course, the most famous of all, the Joplin Spooklight. In the days before the internet, Frank Edwards gave the best description of this latter, arguably the most famous of them all and with a newsman’s panache and wit that has little place in our modern world. But I did recently find an article by Cathy Karlin Zahner in the Kansas City Star sourcing a Keith L. Partain who says, in part: “Most of the time, spook light watchers are seeing nothing more than car headlights refracted up from Interstate 44 by water vapors from the nearby Spring River . . . But about every 10 years, the real spook light appears in the form of ball lightning . . .” Ball lightning?

We live in a strange time. Many scientists, even atmospheric scientists, will flatly state that there simply is no such thing as ball lightning and relegate the matter to folklore. At this same time, other scientists (even atmospheric scientists) have succeeded in making it under laboratory conditions while the more enterprising hobbyists have succeeded in making something very much like it happen in their kitchens with the help of their microwave ovens. I find that a lot of science is like that and Alvin Toffler and I both suspect it will keep getting worse until so many scientific discoveries are happening at such a startling rate that no one will know what anyone else has discovered. I will say, for the purposes of my over-arching argument, that ball lightning exists and so do a number of other odd atmospheric affects which may share many characteristics of it. Since we need a word for this entire class of phenomena, I will call them electroforms, a term favored by Albert Budden. Examples of electroforms may include (but not be limited to): ball lightning, cigar- or chimney-shaped vortexes, daylight disks and spheres, earthlights, spooklights, mountain lights, earthquake lights, BOLs (balls of light) and the like.

Their manners of production are various and all entirely theoretical, but the leading theories have to do with earth-generated electromagnetic fields (EMF) that arise either from the piezoelectric effect or some other unknown mechanism along fault lines. I don’t believe it is currently in dispute that tectonic activity creates waveforms in the EM, RF and even visible light portions of the spectrum, as there are now numerous instrument and eye witnesses to same. A good example of a visible light eruption from an earthquake fault can be see at this youtube link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s6q9K54KYM8. Nearby subject searches reveal more. One would therefor think that the preponderance of spooklight activity must occur at or near fault lines and this seems mostly (but not exclusively) the case. Certainly, the Joplin Spooklight is near the most active fault in the midwest, the Missouri system of faults which produces a series of unfelt earthquakes every week and a noticeable one every ten or twenty. Too, a study has been done in a nearby region by Michael Persinger (we’ll hear more about him later) that shows a seasonal increase and decrease of lights-in-the-sky-type UFO reports timed to the loading and unloading of the Mississippi valley due to spring flooding (and the region is underlaid with quartz, adding weight to the piezoelectric theory). Of the Joplin light, Keith Partain says: “. . . that the appearance of ball lightning is linked to low sunspot activity, nighttime and periods surrounding the fall and spring equinoxes. The three factors combine, he believes, to weaken the earth’s ionosphere to allow radiation from outside the solar system to fall on the Joplin area and create ball lightning . . . ” I think some of us magickal types might have our ears pricked up a bit by the observation re: the equinoxes, as many traditions describe ebbs and flows of force around these times.

As for my own adventure with these things, I went to school for a year at Eastern New Mexico University at Portales, NM. That’s on Hwy 70 about 20 miles south of Clovis and 90 Miles north-east of the now famous town of Roswell. One night, I was at a friend’s house and was looking East across the fields. I remarked that she had picked a house pretty close to the radio towers–how’s the reception? She said to look again and pointed to the radio towers I was thinking of–in a southerly direction. “Then what are those?” I asked, and as soon as I had, I noticed that these winking red lights were only momentarily lined up in the middle distance and were even then swirling and rising like sparks from a fire or a short-tailed bottle-rocket–swaying a bit side to side. They were red and orange and disappeared moments after I first noticed them. She told me they were there often and that the old-timers called them “ghost lights” and thought they were spirits of dead Indians, etc. I didn’t see another for a long time, but talked to many who confessed to seeing them a great deal, usually in the desert east and northeast of town.

A few years later, I returned to the area and was driving to Clovis and had just passed Greyhound Stadium and Blackwater Draw Museum. I was in the back seat while the driver and my roommate were in front. Looking out between the seats at the road, I noticed a bright star dead ahead in the northeast, fairly low. As we tooled along a few seconds more, I came to the conclusion that it was in fact a whole lot closer than a star, for we appeared to pass under it, else it flew over us. Not terribly odd, as Canon AFB is just north and it could easily be some hot dog pilot (it’s a training base) buzzing the road. I had to discount that theory immediately, because of the lack of sound or vibration. I became aware that the others were also taken aback by it, for we pulled over onto the median that ran between the two sets of lanes. We all got out and walked back the way we had come to within 75 feet of the thing, which had stationed itself about 30 feet above the road.

It’s size was that of a basketball and seemed partly red and partly green as if two hemispheres were stuck together vertically. This made me think of a navigation light on the belly of something, but I could clearly make out the detail of the starry sky around it and behind it, so concluded that we weren’t looking at an aircraft. This, aside from the fact that if we were that close to a conventional hovering aircraft, we would have certainly heard/felt/seen a whole lot more than the quiet and still desert around us. It was glowing, rather than shining, hence the amount of distanced detail I could make out around it. I kept trying to put this together some other way in my head, but we’d bloody well triangulated the thing by driving under it, turning back and aside of it, then walked right up to it. I am certain we were not looking at an object that was a some great distance.

We watched it for about 30 seconds, talking hushedly. Without a sound, it appeared to take off at a high rate of speed as though it had no real need to accelerate, just picked up instantly from a standing stop to a few hundred MPH and flew out of sight, clear to the visible horizon in about one second flat. I had enough presence of mind to notice that the event was utterly silent and had to wonder, for any physical object would surely have made some noise due to the sudden displacement of air. It has since occurred to me that it did not have to traverse this apparent distance at all, but merely could have moved a few yards to the right while collapsing rapidly in size before vanishing. I asked non-leading questions of my companions in an effort to get their versions of the story without the interference of my own observations. I’m satisfied that we all saw the same things happen in the same way. We quickly got back in the car and continued on our trip in a sort of stunned silence.

There are many other regions where spooklights seem to gather in earnest, too. Hessdalen Norway, Col de Vence France and that very place in the cascades where Kenneth Arnold made the sighting that spun out into the flying saucer industry today. In fact, it seems a dead certainty to me that what he witnessed in 1947 was in fact a small brigade of electroforms flying along the faultline that lies beneath the mountain chain. I personally know of two scientific research projects that have made inquiries into the phenomena, one being an ongoing study at Hessdalen and another on Warm Springs Reservation in Oregon, now defunct due to the withdrawal of tribal permissions to operate the study there. Neither study was able to come to anything resembling a conclusion, but the data that has been gathered is sufficient to make some very, very general observations: They can be any color, plus black, gray or white, altho’ red and orange predominate. They may or may not cause a return on radar. Radar, MASER, common flashlights and other kinds of coherent energy have been observed to have an effect on their movement, but not in every single case. They may or may not even be emitting visible light, as one was observed to leave the spectrum of the human eye while still remaining detectable to other equipment. They tend to arrange themselves in patterns of straight lines, triangles and hexagons but they don’t exactly eschew kite-shapes and squares, either. It is not an easy animal to describe, as it is probably not a single phenomenon but rather a collection of related phenomena.

For the most part, BOLs are small, relatively stable, short-term phenomenon of relatively low energy, but reports seem to suggest that these things can reach enormous sizes, endure for hours and develop enough energy to knock out a power station. I am indebted to Albert Budden for providing this illustration in his book, UFOs–Psychic Close Encounters where he notes it as Figure 6 The structure of ball lightning. (after David Turner, New Scientist, 20 March 1993). As I stated above BOLs and ball lightning are, if not the same thing, probably very closely related things. Below is a theoretical picture of how such a beastie might maintain itself.

The Structure of Ball Lightning, by Albert Budden

It is supposed that the hot plasma core emits both light and energy in various parts of the spectrum while the layer of water vapor attracted to it can provide ballast against the natural buoyancy caused by the heat of the reaction within.  Note also that at night, such an object would shine, glow or pulsate (or even be invisible) while in the day it might appear as a silvery ball with a dimpled surface somewhat like a golf ball . . . or else jet black.  It has been suggested that the white/black color orientation could be the result of some cathode/anode-like relationship.  It may depend upon the direction from which one is viewing it (and there are a number of observations in the report literature that indicate that it is sometimes only possible to be seen from one narrow angle).  Observations have shown other interesting characteristics, such as a rapid spinning motion within the form, which results in changes of shape, size and other behaviors which include the presentation of a silvery disk-like form.  It is easy to see how such a thing might be mistaken for the classic flying saucer shape, and indeed I think that is just what has happened in a significant number of cases.

I actually think that the fault-zones of the entire planet are reactive in the EM spectrum from time to time, and when conditions are right these “geo-belches” erupt all along the line, kicking out electroforms where conditions permit.  Conditions seem better than usual in the two years leading up to Solar Max and that is exactly the period in which we find ourselves today.  Testing this notion, I went to the NUFORC (National Unidentified Flying Object Report Center) website and compared the LITS-type (“Lights in the Sky”-type) sightings in various areas I suspected to be geomagnetic hotspots (the so-called “window areas” of paranormal phenomenon) as well as a few others for control purposes.  I found the results I predicted, not just at known hot spots but even in my own neighborhood.  Five years ago, my home town was seeing a 0-3 UFO reports in a given month, while today we stand at better than 400, more during August.

This article can’t encompass all that is known (and that is not much) and all that is speculated about such things, but it will give us something to work with as I proceed to outline my argument in greater and greater detail.  That being said, I would be remiss if I didn’t give you a very important warning: stay away from these things! They are often very, very bad for you. I do not believe I suffered any ill effects from my close encounter in Portales, but the report literature is littered with casualties in the form of long-term illnesses, acquired epilepsy,  and even death.

Here’s a report culled from the NUFORC website that piqued my interest and showed some of the potential danger in a graphic way:

NORTHBROOK, ILLINOIS, TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 04, 2008, 21:20 HRS. (LOCAL)

A young woman was driving at 40-45 mph along Lake Cook Road, when her car suddenly lurched to the right for no reason that was apparent to her.  There were no cars within sight on the road, and she had not seen any pedestrian or animal near the car.  She stopped her car immediately, got out, and apparently was flabbergasted by the appearance of the left side of her automobile.

The investigating police officer could not provide an adequate explanation for the damage.  He noted that there was no damaged paint, and no animal hair, feathers, or blood, evident on the damaged area of the car.   NUFORC has passed the case along to Mr. Sam Maranto, Illinois State Director for the Mutual UFO Network (“MUFON”), for follow-up investigation.

We have no reason to believe that the incident was UFO-related, but we have no explanation for how the extensive damage to the car could have occurred.  If any of the visitors to our site have ever witnessed this type of damage to a car, we would welcome comments or suggestions.

The statement of the victim:

“The entire left side of my car appears to be scorched but no paint was removed.

I was driving 40-45 miles per hour heading north toward I-94 East towards Chicago on Lake Cook Road. While I was in the middle lane, I felt a nudge on the left of my car which made my car shift to the right.  I did not swerve out of the lane and gained control back quickly.

I slowed down and as I got my bearings, I realized that my left side mirror was knocked off and so I turned right onto Revere Drive and put on my hazard lights.

I got out of the car and saw that I had several dents on the side of my car.  There were two that were deeper and larger than the others; one was located in front of the rear wheel and the other was in the center of the driver door.

I called 911 to file a police report and the officer said that I was side swiped by another car but, there were not any cars around me before or after the hit and also there were no paint scratches from other cars on my car.”

I was unable to obtain permissions for the images of this car, but I was given permission to share the link where they can be found: http://www.nuforc.org/CBIndex.html.

This is a unique pattern of damage, to say the least, but I have seen it in one other place–the Hutchison Effect.  I plan to discuss Hutchison in another article, but suffice it to say that he has produced under laboratory conditions, using simple EM devices, a number of incomprehensible effects which not only include nearly every weird thing associated with a “typical” poltergeist case but also demonstrate a superheating of metal in such a way that the surface is heated to 1000s of degrees, while the rest of the object remains near room temperature.  These pictures show the effect of a withering heat on this metal which seemed to have an unexpected effect on the plastic parts of the side mirror and none on the driver.  I immediately suspected a plasma discharge or EM effect, but who can tell?  More importantly, who will ever investigate this gold mine of data?

A glance at the list of symptoms of exposure to BOLs is nearly identical to the symptoms associated with a close-up UFO encounter–close enough that it dawned on Albert Budden that we might be looking at the same thing and calling it by different names. This brought him pretty much into alignment with the thinking of Dr. Michael Persinger, at least as far as the natural staging of electromagnetic brain events goes.  Budden distinguishes his argument from Persinger in that Budden believes that man-made energies combined with geomagnetic energies are a more likely culprit.

The 3 most common symptoms of close encounter exposure? In order: 1st degree skin burn, conjunctivitis and nosebleed.  To this list you can add non-ionized and ionized plasma burns, change of allergy profile and even metanoia (shift in world view).  To Budden this looked like a “close encounter delivery system” and allowed him to make a collections of predictions about these sorts of encounters that seem to repeat themselves throughout the literature.  Consider a typical encounter to look something like this:

  1. What’s that funny ball of light over there?
  2. It almost seems to be moving intelligently . .  it’s coming this way!’
  3. I can’t move . . . nor want to . . . Aaack!  That pink beam got me square in the head!
  4. Where am I, how come I’m burned and bloody and 3 hours have elapsed?
  5. I have a special message for all Mankind . . .

Next time we’re going to discuss the work of Dr. Michael Persinger in greater detail, and see if we can’t take a deeper look into what happens in our psyches when we expose our grey matter to our neighborhood’s ever-shifting energies.

References

  • Budden, Albert UFOs–Psychic Close Encounters (Blandford Press, 1995)
  • Devereux, Paul Earth Lights Revelation: UFOs and Mystery Lightform Phenomena: the Earth’s Secret Energy Force (Blandford Press, 1989)
  • NUFORC can be found at www.nuforc.com.

Adam Davies Returns from India

Monday, November 22nd, 2010

Adam Davies returned Saturday, November 20th from his expedition in search of India’s famed apeman, the Mande Burung (Wild Jungle People). After two weeks in the jungles of the West Garo Hills district of the state of Meghalaya, Adam and his team of researchers came away with some very compelling evidence of the creature’s existence. Having just returned, Adam was understandably jet-lagged and exhausted, but he was kind enough to send me a brief email in which he offered to allow me to reprint some of the initial notes he made on his blog concerning his findings. I hope to speak with Adam soon (once he’s rested and recovered) to gather some further information about this latest expedition, but in the meanwhile, here is what he has to say:

Mande Burung “Ape Man” Expedition Yields Evidence

Mande Burung Indian ape man expedition

Mande Burung expedition

I just arrived home a few hours ago. As you no doubt appreciate, I am a tired tonight, but I had an amazing time, and felt that I, and the rest of the team, met with some great success. I will post more detail about the expedition over the next few weeks, but here are some headlines.

I am convinced the Mande-Burung exists. Dave Archer found what appears to be an MB footprint, at a site where an eyewitness confirmed he had seen the creature. He and John McGowan, went on to find a trail of them. I found an MB footprint in Nokrek national Park. What I found particularly interesting about this one, was that you could see a boulder in the stream which had been tossed aside, followed by some debris of a freshwater crab. The locals had told me on previous occasions that the MB was fond of eating these particular types of crab. Whilst I can’t be certain it was an MB print, the size and shape were certainly consistent with eyewitness reports. The casting at site failed due to the very wet conditions.

We collected a number of very consistent eyewitness reports, which described a large black bipdeal ape, which built ground nests and ate bamboo. Nothing on the camera traps so far, but we haven’t finished going through them all yet. We have collected hair and bone samples which just MAY come from the MB, but of course we need to test them. Quite by chance, and very significantly indeed, John McGowan may well have discovered a completley new species. I can’t say anything more about this though, until he has conducted a thorough analysis.

The area has some amazing , vast, and largely untraversed, jungle. Beautiful. The perfect place for a relic gigantopithicus….

The XYZ Files — Part One

Saturday, November 13th, 2010

Note: I’m very pleased to introduce a new contributor to the Paranomalist blog, Frater Auxilior Arti — known to his friends as Dänae (don-eye, in the phoenetic). Dänae was kind enough to have contacted me concerning some thoughts about my own missing time experience, which I found very intriguing. Dänae’s views are very well-researched and well thought-out, and he’s an outstanding writer, so I was more than happy (and flattered) when he offered to contribute his writings to the Paranomalist. This is the first of a series of five articles that I look forward to posting in the upcoming months, and I’m sure the readers of this blog will enjoy the insights of Frater Auxilior Arti. — John Carlson

Introduction – Article No. 1 of the XYZ Files

XYZ Files by Frater Auxilior Arti

XYZ Files by Frater Auxilior Arti

Like a lot of Paranomalist readers, I’ve had a long and strange attraction to hidden things, whether they be of a magickal nature or that sort of thing usually described by the word: “paranormal”.  Growing up in “saucer summer” 1965 didn’t make it any easier.  I literally cut my teeth on local UFO reports, Frank Edwards’ and Brad Steiger’s columns and watched their small genre blossom on television in shows like The 6th Sense (that would be Gary Collins’ old gig)  and Kolchak: The Night Stalker. These interests grew alongside my occult studies until I was sufficiently well-read enough and mature enough to realize that there existed a clear overlap between the subjects of brain science, UFO lore, magick and the paranormal which, if studied phenomenologically and with an open mind, would likely yield a veritable treasure trove of data concerning the human condition and potential.  I also believe this trove has a great deal of practical utility for modern occultists, but since the recent loss of rendingtheveil.com, I thought it best to approach John with this collection of articles for his Paranormalist blog. These studies have given me a whole new set of filters through which to examine reports of the paranormal and even — sometimes — the merely unusual.

I also believe we are at a bit of a crossroads in history for this sort of study, because I am seeing marketing forces slowly dumbing the subject down to it’s lowest common thrill factor, making it suitable for the unwashed masses that cluster about their mass entertainment boxes. One need only look at the History Channel to see what I mean–long-solved reports parade about as if they were still mysterious and psuedo-scientififc gobbledygook abounds while truly exciting developments and radical new theorizing are occurring in every area of paranormal research from UFOs to Hauntings to bigfoot to crop circles.  Did you know:

  • That the alien abduction experience has been reproduced in a hospital setting?
  • That it wasn’t Whitley Streiber that introduced us to the “Grays” but Aleister Crowley? (Ok–I’ll bet most of you knew that . . .)
  • That poltergeist phenomenon has been recreated in the laboratory?
  • That amateur mediums have created their own “ghost” from fictitious life stories?
  • That some places have shown signs of hauntings by fictional characters?

I know a lot of readers will take issue with the arguments that I intend to lay before them, but be advised that I have thought them through for over 15 years, have references and am not out to debunk everything in sight. Too, I think open discourse is a good thing and I’d like to get some of that going right here because I’ve little doubt that every reader of this column doesn’t have some sort of unexplained event nagging at them.  This is a good place to bring those stories to have them examined in a different light.

I am not a skeptic by nature and I find most “skeptics” to actually be “disbelievers”.  Disbelievers think that since Science/The Bible has settled the question of life after death there’s no value to reports of same.  Disbelievers can’t point to evidence of interstellar travel (or interdimensional travel, for that matter) so there can’t be any aliens in our midst. In my book, they are about as bad as “believers”, who simply accept what they are told without critical thought and usually have their minds made up about a given subject long before examining their first shred of evidence.  So, I am not by nature a believer either.  I like to think of myself as a Niels Bohr-style phenomenologist, sorting data into this column or that in an effort to get a better grip on what we are dealing with.  Even so, I do have beliefs, and by that I mean that there are things I’ve chosen to accept as if it were true because it suits my purposes at the moment and I have a goodly stack of evidences and personal experiences to shore up the argument.  Most magicians do this for a time as they study their particular cultus or practice, first believing that their particular god exists in some fashion, or that there is indeed an astral plane or some other such rudiment of the craft.  This is necessary to get on to the more serious business of proving it to oneself, and perhaps, to others.  Like a Gnostic, I have faith that there is such a thing as “God” just long enough to have an encounter with “God” after which I shall have lost my faith, having replaced it with knowledge.  I think that approach can work with the paranormal too, altho’ it looks like it’s going to be a long haul to Knowledge-ville.

I’m certainly a Fortean in that I don’t dismiss ideas I don’t understand because I don’t understand them.  I realize that we don’t know very much about the way the world works and even a casual glance into modern physics can make one come away with a definite feeling that the multiverse behaves a whole lot differently than we used to think it did.  I am not offering a “Theory of Everything” as that seems like sheer hubris at this stage of the game and because it leads straightaway to passionate and pointless arguments.  I expect to give my opinions for what they are–opinions–and let the reader judge their merit from the evidence presented.

Fair warning: the over-arching argument is HUGE and there are many, many aspects that need to be borne in mind while examining any particular area of discussion and to that end I will be describing as much of the argument as I can before taking questions from readers.  The fundaments of this argument could span up to 10 articles in and of themselves.  I will concentrate on 7 main areas, although I’m happy to address others:

  • UFOs and “alien abductions”
  • Poltergeist hauntings and spooklights
  • “Impossible” zoology (as distinct from cryptozoology)
  • Modern mediumship
  • “Classic” hauntings and ghosts
  • Cattle mutilations and
  • “The catch-all drawer of the damned”

While these may seem very disparate areas of study, they all verge upon new areas of study, chiefly those which deal with how the psyches, brains and bodies of human beings (and other animals) interact with our solar system’s electromagnetic activity.  The study of EM is the over-arching meta-subject by which all the above subjects are connected and there have been a number of critical thinkers in our time which have taken great pains to show how this might be so. Of course, the best and brightest of them have been cheerfully ignored if not laughed out of whatever field in which they once found employment, but that’s about par for the course, isn’t it? But do believe me when I say that the more one explores this subject, the deeper, wider and weirder it gets!

As Sir Isaac Newton opined, “We see farther because we stand on the shoulders of giants”  and the giants whose thoughts, words and hard work have allowed me the greatest vista are principally four–Albert Budden, the late John Keel, Jacques Vallee and Paul Devereux.  Of course, it’s tough to nail down the greatest lights in such a quirky area of study, but these four complement each other in ways that will help me best illustrate my arguments.  A huge debt of gratitude is owed to a lengthy list of journalists, data collectors, scientists (amateur and paid alike), enthusiasts, freaks, hoaxers, frauds and fools as well and I’ll do my best to acquaint you with their ludicrous/fascinating frauds/discoveries and bid you laugh/ponder at will.  Allow me to highlight some of the particulars of the four men who have helped to inspire me write this column:

French-born venture capitalist, computer scientist, author, ufologist and former astronomer, Jacques Vallee was an early vocal proponent of a principally psychological explanation for the UFO phenomenon that was then emerging into public awareness.  He outlined much of his reasons for thinking so in his now out of print 1969 book Passport to Magonia: From Folklore to Flying Saucers (do write if you know where there is a copy to be had for less than US$50 . . .)  He was puzzled by the nature of paranormal reports generally, often pointing out the presence of phenomena both objective and subjective within a given report, be that a report of UFOs, leprechauns, ghosts or the Lord Jesus Christ.  I think he may be the earliest person of the 20th century to do so, but if he is not then that honor surely belongs to the late John Keel.

John Keel was something of a writer’s writer, penning everything from adventure stories to novels to soft porn under a dozen pseudonyms all while maintaining what amounts to a one-man paranormal investigative agency. The serious study of the paranormal would be immensely enriched if someone would be so kind as to archive, copy and make available his vast collection of original letters, newspaper clippings, recordings, photographs and what have you for public study (assuming sinister Men in Black haven’t spirited it all off in the dead of night).  I don’t get the impression that John ever thought that the Extraterrestrial Hypothesis (hereafter referred to as ETH) was a good fit for the evidence.  According to his observations, most instances of paranormal activity come about as if the percipient entered some sort of force-field or twilight-zone-like area of effect where the mind was shut down in a strange seizure wherein the hapless victim experienced a subjective inner world populated by . . . what?  Demons of folklore?  Demons of the Unconscious?  Extraterrestrials?  Infraterrestrials?  He could, in the end, only say “Yes.  Er, probably . . .”  What could cause such a thing and why did it happen in cycles, in specific areas and to certain sorts of people?  I believe those last questions are addressed quite thoroughly by the work of the next 2 men.

Paul Devereux is an English author, researcher, lecturer, broadcaster, artist and photographer, and a Research Fellow with the International Consciousness Research Laboratories (ICRL) group at Princeton University. He has written or co-written 25 books since 1979, but the work in which we are most interested  is his Earth Lights Revelation: UFOs and Mystery Lightform Phenomena: the Earth’s Secret Energy Force. The majority of his work deals with archaeological themes and ancient lifeways, ecopsychology, ley lines, geomancy, unusual geophysical phenomena, and consciousness studies, and his overall output spans the range from academic to popular.  Where Keel and Vallee posit a mysterious, brain-scrambling force, Devereux delivers the blueprint for the device that makes it . . . or one of them anyway.  The problem with the study of unusual electrical phenomena is that it manifests itself across a wide range of the spectrum, allowing even generalizations to not completely capture it, a thing Mr. Devereux readily admits, but when all is said and done on this subject, I think he will be remembered as a lynch-pin in the winning argument.

After spending a life reading and digesting stories of and experiments with the paranormal, Albert Budden knocked my socks off with a new approach to the old and frail ETH argument, something he calls the Electro-Staging Hypothesis (hereafter referred to as ESH).  It was actually Dr. Michael Persinger who first proposed the notion that geo-based electromagnetism could cause the earth to emit electromagnetic frequencies which could in turn cause bizarre hallucinations, but it was Budden who did the field work and expanded the argument into it’s present dimensions.  Budden began his interest in the paranormal as a UFO researcher and found himself  making note of the seemingly ubiquitous presence of electromagnetic effects surrounding close encounters. In every case he studied (some quite famous within the UFO abductee community) he could discern the elements of a heretofore novel pathology and he began to ask himself questions, questions like: Why do most most contactees come down with sunburn, non-ionized plasma burns and conjunctivitis?  Why nosebleed in 70% of cases?  And more importantly, why is it not in the literature?  Like Keel, he found that the sorts of enthusiasts who investigate paranormal contacts are as likely as not to bias and sanitize their reports, even as they are 1st writing them, as would anyone else who has a strong opinion before gathering all the facts. He therefore had to reinvestigate a number of cases on his own time to get at all of the facts, so many cases cited are fairly fresh views.  Budden provides not a “Theory of Everything”, a thing of which he is often accused, but a strong hypothesis rooted in science and less biased observation that, to some, seems to close doors on precious beliefs, but to others, opens up many others to even wider vistas. His 2 works on the subject are Ufos Psychic Close Encounters: The Electromagnetic Indictment and Electric Ufos: Fireballs, Electromagnetics and Abnormal States.

I’m not offering a Theory of Everything either, even if I swear I can sometimes see it peeking out of the nearest shadow sometimes.  What I am offering is a new screen by which to sort the “probably explained” from the “unexplained”, and that is worth something indeed.  If we could categorically (and probably temporarily) dismiss the former from the latter then we have a tool to get closer to the heart of where our real questions lie.  Like the men I cite above, I have asked myself similar questions over the years, and try to keep up with each new wave of weirdness as it comes along.  One of those questions I used to ask is: How come the skies were filled with UFOs in ’67 but not in ’74?  Why do they peak 11 years later in 1978?  And again in 89? And . . . illumination hits.  I remember that sunspots come around every 11 years or so and begin to plot the rising and falling waves of weirdness against the peaks and valleys of the sun’s output cycle and find a remarkable correspondence between not just UFO reports, but haunting activities, cryptid encounters, cattle mutilations–the works.  With NASA’s recent prediction of Solar Max scheduled for 2013, we have clearly entered well into the period of weirdness and so, there is probably no better time to explore it.  Shall we?

Australian Big Cats – Book Extract

Friday, October 29th, 2010

I was contacted recently by Australian journalist Rebecca Lang, who co-authored a new book called Australian Big Cats: An Unnatural History of Panthers, along with writer/photographer Michael Williams. The book delves into the mysterious killing of livestock in rural areas of Australia. These killings have often coincided with sightings of mysterious black panthers in the same vicinity.

I’ve always found sightings of mysterious, out-of-place animals interesting, particularly big cats, which I discussed a bit in my post Cryptids in Suburbia — Part 1. The so-called “Alien Big Cats” (or ABCs as they’re sometimes referred) are a phenomena known in England, as well as in the United States. However, I am less familiar with the history of these sightings in Australia.  The fact that these creatures have been reported there is perhaps that much more surprising, because Australia has no known record of an indigenous species of big cat having inhabited the continent.

What then, is the origin behind these sightings? Are they simply a case of misidentifying feral cats? Are these reports primarily hoaxes? Or does a species of panther dwell in the forests and rural Australian back-country? Ms. Lang and Mr. Mitchell have kindly allowed me to post an extract of their book, and I look forward to reading it and learning more about the subject. Their website is www.australianbigcats.com.au and book may be purchased on their site. Please enjoy the following from Australian Big Cats: An Unnatural History of Panthers:

An Unnatural History of Panthers

Australian big cats

Australian Big Cats

Helicopters hover noisily overhead, the occupants scanning the sheep-filled paddocks, undulating grassy terrain fringed with dark, forbidding bush.

On the ground, rangers comb the property, deep in the Victorian countryside. Their hand-held radios briefly crackle into life, sounding hard and scratchy amid the dull “thwock, thwock, thwock” of the helicopter blades above. State-of-the-art thermal imaging equipment throws up heat signatures of wildlife and livestock, transforming flesh and blood into blobby splashes of red with yellow-green halos as the rangers scan the land for something large and out-of-place. Something alien and deadly. Something on a killing spree.

Hollywood couldn’t have done it better. But this isn’t an action sequence from some creature feature; these events actually took place in 1997 on a farm near Woodside, a small town in Victoria’s Gippsland, part of an effort by the state’s Department of Sustainability and the Environment (DSE) to deal with an unknown predator that had slaughtered more than 400 sheep in two years, each victim expertly dispatched (and devoured) with the efficiency of a butcher.

DSE officials were stumped, and they were pulling out all stops to try to solve the mystery that had so far cost a Victorian farmer thousands of dollars in lost stock — and threatened the credibility of the department. Trapping, snaring and fur traps had all failed to reveal the true nature of the beast, so thermal imaging equipment was employed in an eleventh-hour bid to halt the stock losses. There was talk of wild dogs at the time, but none of the corpses bore the hallmarks of dog attacks. There was no mess and little blood, and most of the corpses were devoid of flesh with only head, hide and hooves left behind. It was, for the most part, a clean, clinical kill every time.

Just as unusual — and even more disturbing — was the discovery early one morning of several sheep standing in a field, their faces mauled beyond recognition. They were still alive — just — but where a snout should have protruded from each woolly face there was now just a mass of red, shredded flesh and broken cartilage and bone.

The woman at the centre of the drama, sheep farmer Elizabeth Balderstone, was mystified as to what had attacked and killed hundreds of her sheep. “Over the two and a half years we’ve lost over 400 sheep,” Ms Balderstone told ABC Radio in July 1999. “We have them badly mauled around the tail and still alive but will die within a couple of days, or mauled around the face when whole jawbones have been removed. Other times the sheep are killed and partially or totally eaten out, when there’s just the fleece and bone skeleton left, and very little else.”

Overshadowing the gruesome discoveries were sightings of two enormous cats on the property — one brown, the other black — by a local dogger and the property’s manager. Could these monster-sized moggies have been responsible for the carnage?

Just over 40km away, Binginwarri dairy farmer Ron Jones was also starting to lose livestock to a mystery predator, as was his 82-year-old mother who lives on a nearby farm. Today the skulls of bovine victims dangle from a tree on his property, a grim reminder of a predator that attacks under cover of darkness. Jones has seen the cat(s) countless times, even shooting at it with his .22 caliber magnum rifle — a weapon he believes lacks the firepower to bring down an animal “the size of a golden retriever”.

“I’ve had cattle taken within a hundred metres of the house,” he said. “I’ve seen one at about 70 yards [64m] … It was a big, fawny-coloured cat, which was nearly as high as a strainer post which was three foot six [1m] high — it would have been about nine or 10 inches [23-25cm] wide across the chest.”

Jones has assembled a grisly photo album of dead livestock from properties around the area to build a case for the existence of the large cats, which he believes are responsible for the strange stock deaths. The scale of predation on his and neighbouring properties has raised eyebrows in government departments, and prompted some investigation. In nearby Yarram, DSE employees filmed other strangely wounded livestock around the same period — cattle with their flanks raked by claws, their hides scarred.

So who, or what, was responsible for the carnage? And why have the experiences of three Victorian farmers been echoed all over the country? For almost 150 years, sightings of strange, cat-like creatures have been reported and documented across Australia. While predominantly described as resembling jet-black panthers or sandy-coloured pumas and lions, spotted and striped large cats have also been reported since white settlement.

In their wake they have left a trail of destruction. Mutilated cattle, sheep and family pets are a testament to the ruthless efficiency of these mystery predators, which occasionally leave behind large, felid-like prints that further tantalise and torment their trackers. Where do they come from? And how did they get here?

Australia has never had an indigenous cat species — unless you count one prehistoric marsupial cousin. Tens of thousands of years ago a deadly animal stalked the wilds of the Australian bush. Thylacoleo carnifex, “the flesh-eating pouched lion”, was christened in 1859 by respected paleontologist Professor Richard Owen, who declared it a carnivorous marsupial cat, a judgment that set him at odds with the paleontology establishment.

Sporting blade-like teeth, Thylacoleo measured 1.5m in length and weighed about 120kg. Its incredibly strong jaws and presumably feline stealth would have made it a formidable hunter during the Pleistocene era (about 1.6 million years ago). The creature became extinct about 40,000 years ago, leaving the Australian bush — and the nomadic Aboriginal tribes who inhabited the country at about the same time — relatively predator-free. But many wonder: did it truly die out?

Another strong contender in the debate is an animal that once ranged from the wilds of Indonesia and Papua New Guinea right across the Australian mainland down to Tasmania – the Tasmanian Tiger (Thylacinus cynocephalus). There are certainly some aspects of the witness descriptions that resonate with this species, now officially extinct. However, in the case of the so-called Queensland Tiger, the aboreal nature of this creature cited in many reports would appear to rule the Thylacinus out of contention — and if the sightings are to be given any credence at all, they may raise the spectre of an altogether new and hitherto unidentified marsupial species.

Call of the wild

There are a rash of other theories about what these big cats are, and how they might have got here. In 1788, the first British colonists set foot on Australian soil. These resourceful men, women and children quickly established themselves and introduced a range of animals once foreign to these shores, including rabbits, foxes and the first domestic — and soon-to-be-feral — cats. Could descendants of these small British cats (and perhaps those from Dutch shipwrecks) have morphed into the super-sized cats first spotted in the bush about 100 years later?

Fast-forward to 1876, and the mega circus of Cooper, Bailey & Co (precursor to the famous Barnum and Bailey’s Circus) comes to Australian shores. The dazzling spectacle toured NSW and Victoria and featured a swag of “alien” animals including jaguars, leopards, bears, tigers, hyenas, elephants, zebras, a hippopotamus, monkeys and camels. The presence of the large American circus with its extensive exotic menagerie no doubt inspired Australia’s St Leon circus to add big cats to its line-up in 1882 — the first traveling circus troupe in Australia to do so — enthralling audiences and becoming a major draw card. However, circuses were not without problems, including frequent crashes en route and careless handling, often resulting in escapes. Are the descendants of circus escapees living and breeding in the bush?

In the 1850s and 1860s, gold fever gripped the nation. Prospectors flocked from as far away as China and America to the Victorian and NSW goldfields in pursuit of instant wealth, some of them so intent on guarding their claims they often took extraordinary precautions — including, it is believed, chaining pumas to their diggings. Are relations of those gold-rush pumas on the loose in Australia’s wilderness?

The 1940s were a period of great disruption in Australia, with American servicemen thick on the ground. When they weren’t being dispatched to war zones or romancing Australian women in crowded dance halls, if folklore is to be believed it seems they were busy caring for exotic unit mascots — namely, “black panthers”. Did servicemen really keep wild cats as unit mascots? And if so, once they got their marching orders and realised they couldn’t take them into battle, did they release these same “panthers” into the wilderness rather than humanely put them down?

And, finally, we have the growing menace of feral cats in the Australian bush. Domestic cats quickly got their claws into this country, rapidly spreading and establishing themselves across the continent. But are they now changing, mutating and growing to sizes far larger than has previously been expected of Felis catus, the domestic house cat? Could an evolutionary quirk be responsible for the hundreds of big-cat sightings around Australia? Or might feral cats have crossed with Indonesian jungle cats from earlier Aboriginal-Indonesian interactions over thousands of years, creating genetically superior “monster cats” through hybrid vigour?

Whatever the origin, the sightings of large, cat-like animals appear to be on the rise in Australia’s western and eastern states. In Western Australia in the late 1970s the state government initiated an inquiry into spiraling reports of strange predation in the Cordering district; NSW has experienced a profusion of big-cat sightings in the Blue Mountains and Hawkesbury areas, so much so that the state government initiated two inquiries into the matter in 1999-2001 and 2008.

The wilderness of the Blue Mountains stretches over 1 million hectares. It is a vast landscape of sheer cliffs, swamps, rugged tablelands and deep, impenetrable valleys that harbour many secrets — including, in the Wollemi National Park, the recently rediscovered “living fossil”, the Wollemi Pine. It is not unreasonable to suggest that something more than ancient trees might be lurking within that rugged landscape, some parts of which have yet to be explored by man.

On the western side of the Blue Mountains lies the small coal-mining town of Lithgow. On the morning of May 9, 2001, residents Gail and Wayne Pound were at home getting ready to go to work. It was about 7am; Gail was getting dressed while Wayne was in the shower. Looking up, she spied a large feral cat in the scrub outside her bedroom window. However, it was the cat’s much larger feline companion that caused her to do a double-take.
“We were quite mesmerised,” she told Channel Nine’s A Current Affair.

Added Wayne: “I got the binoculars and had a good look at it. And I was still looking at it and all of a sudden it got up and I said, ‘No, hang on … that’s a giant cat’ and Gail yelled out, ‘That’s a leopard!’ I said, ‘No, hang on, that’s a panther!’”

Luckily for the Pounds they had a video camera handy and managed to capture evidence of the cats’ visitation, with a naked Wayne filming the feline pair for 15 minutes before the cats moved on. The footage caused a sensation after it was sold to Channel Nine, which broadcast the images nationwide.

Upon viewing the video, the NSW Department of Agriculture’s exotic animal expert, Bill Atkinson, lent further weight to the footage: “That’s a very big cat — I would say, by the size of it, it could be a panther.” Strangely, nobody thought to re-shoot footage in the same location, from the same distance with the same zoom to provide a proper comparison and give some idea of scale. Another thing forgotten in the frenzy was that the video actually showed two cats — a large cat described as a “panther” and a smaller, domestic-looking cat. In the wild, a true big cat would likely eat its much smaller domesticated cousin.

Perhaps fittingly, given its suspected big-cat status, what happened next was nothing short of a circus. Amateur researchers and government employees descended on Lithgow to hunt for further evidence of the animal. Atkinson was the only one to conduct a conventional investigation by laying hair traps and examining scratch marks on an acacia tree and large droppings left nearby. Unfortunately, he came up empty-handed.

“The scratchings and ripped bark were about 1.5m high on the tree,” Atkinson said at the time. “It is hard to believe a possum could have done that.” Perhaps aware of how his remarks might be interpreted, he later qualified them in a statement to The Sydney Morning Herald: “[They] are interesting, considering where they are, but they may have been made with a blunt penknife.”

Pile of bones

The government investigation yielded nothing, but media coverage of the events in Lithgow triggered a wave of anecdotal reports from the public. The Pounds’ sighting was by no means the first for the tiny township, and most likely not the last. For the past 20 years, big cat reports have been something of a fixture in The Lithgow Mercury, according to editor Len Ashworth, who has recorded many of the yarns himself. He’s been with the newspaper more than 50 years, starting as a cadet reporter in 1956.

“I remember back when I was a young graded journalist I was at the police station one morning when a person who was traveling through town came in in a state of distress and said he and his family had been frightened by a strange animal on a section of the highway near South Bowenfels,” Ashworth recalls. “He said he had turned off into a sidetrack off the highway below the Hassans Walls escarpment to answer a call of nature. When he got out of the car he heard a loud, growling noise and saw a large, cat-like animal … That was about 40 years ago. The police went down there with him and he pointed out the area. The track led up to the vicinity of a small mining operation. The police noted a strange smell there and found a pile of animal bones.”

Police have logged their own sightings, with two officers relating how they nearly ran over large black cats the size of dogs in the early hours of the morning on local roads. Senior constable Paul Semmut remembers his sighting in August 2004 vividly. “It was on Scenic Hill, on Chifley Road, on the eastern side of the War Memorial [about 2am]. I was driving by myself and I almost ran over the thing, it was pretty close. It was about a metre long and had black, silky fur… the way it ran off it looked like a cat.

“My first reaction was it was a damn big cat.”

“We have had call-outs in the same area — I’ve heard of three myself, mostly shift-workers coming home from work. It’s nothing of a police nature so we don’t really worry about it, there’s just the interest factor. If we did go out we would probably get in touch with the council ranger of the National Parks and Wildlife Service and report it. I’ve always been a real sceptic about these reports, but now I’m a believer.”

Back in Gippsland, the mystery of the slaughtered livestock remains unsolved. Big black and brown cats are still seen slipping between the shadows near roads and across paddocks. And animals are still dying in savage and unusual circumstances.

This extract first appeared in The Weekend Australian magazine on June 26, 2010. Please respect the authors’ copyright. You are welcome to re-post this content – all we ask is that you acknowledge the authors and provide a link back to this site so that interested parties can procure the book for themselves.

Have a nice day :D

Mande Burung Expedition Update

Tuesday, October 5th, 2010
Forested area of the West Garo Hills, India.

Heavily forested area of the West Garo Hills district of India.

Hi all. Word of this may already have gone out, as I neglected to post this information when Adam Davies contacted me last week, but here it is anyway:

Cryptozoologist Adam Davies recently met with members of his team of fellow cryptid researchers who will accompany him on his latest expedition to the West Garo Hills district of the state of Meghalaya in India, which is in the northeastern part of the country, bordering Bangladesh.

Once there, Adam and his team will search for evidence of the Mande Burung, a legendary man-like ape (or perhaps ape-like man) that has long been reported as having been seen and encountered in this heavily forested and remote region.

Here are the plans for the expedition, as conveyed to me by Mr. Davies:

  • The Team will be on expedition for approx three weeks. They will depart on Halloween, 31st October, from London, and return on 19/20 November.
  • The team will be headed by Adam Davies. He will be joined by Dave Archer and John McGowan, who will be bringing their tracking expertise to the Team, whilst Dr. Chris Clark and Richard Freeman will be providing Technical and Zoological expertise, respectively.
  • Dipu Marak, will head up the Indian Team, which includes both trackers and porters.
  • They will be deploying both traditional tracking techniques, as well as using hi-tech equipment such as infra-red, camera traps, thermal imaging and filed microscopes as well as  a helicam, if appropriate. They will use Silicon Moulding should they find any prints.
  • The team will be engaging in both arduous physical treks, and night stake outs.
  • They have already arranged a series of appointments with alleged Mande-Burung eyewitnesses.
  • The expedition will be filmed for a forthcoming documentary.

In a personal aside, Adam told me, “I would love to see one, but at the end of the day, it’s all about the science. Getting pictures on the camera traps would be amazing. What the expedition really hopes to do though is obtain tangible physical evidence of the creature, should it exist, which can then be analyzed by independent scientific experts (e.g. to extract D.N.A.). I also hope to have a great adventure when we are there, and chill with the locals!”

And in a personal aside of my own, I apologize to Adam (and the readers of this blog) for not posting this last week as I’d planned and told him I would. I sincerely appreciate the updates and I’m always eager to post them on The Paranomalist. Just been dealing with a lot of personal issues, centered around my ailing dad and busy work schedule of late. It’s been a lot to juggle, and I’m afraid I’ve been rather neglectful of my writing duties. I’ll try to get back on track this month. Thanks again, Adam, for staying in touch and letting me know about your plans.

Seeing in the Dark: Premonitions and Voices

Monday, August 30th, 2010
Seeing in the Dark by Kim Sillen Gledhill

Seeing in the Dark by Kim Sillen Gledhill

The other day I received an email from a woman (and fellow New Jerseyan) named Kim Sillen Gledhill. Kim told me that she enjoyed the article I wrote last year about my mother’s uncannily accurate premonitions and precognitive dreams, and went on to say that she has had similar experiences.

In 1995, at the age of twenty-four Kim received a clear message from a “voice”, the origin of which she could not locate. This voice told her that she was to suffer a devastating illness. Several months later the first symptoms of this illness began to manifest itself, and shortly thereafter she was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis.

Kim has penned a book, which is as yet unpublished, about the premonitory dreams and voices that have visited her throughout her life. She invited me to read the first two chapters of her book, and I found them very well-written and quite fascinating.

I also immediately thought that Seeing in the Dark would be of interest to the readers of this blog, so I asked Kim if she would allow me to include them here on The Paranomalist. She very generously agreed to this, and I now have the pleasure of presenting them to you.


INTRODUCTION

Author and artist Kim Sillen Gledhill

Author and artist Kim Sillen Gledhill

Joan of Arc should not look so normal, I thought as a seven-year-old. This assessment made me all the more entranced with the painting of her at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Even though she appeared to be momentarily visiting another dimension, she was earthy and beautiful and seemed completely trustworthy to me, not like some flighty, religious lunatic who believed she was a messenger of God. Hearing voices in the woods looked so out-of-character for her. I paid her visits on occasion throughout my childhood, and as I reached my teens, having had my own inexplicable visions of needles, cantors and houses I’d never seen, she struck me as looking like the kind of modern college girl I had admired from afar. I could picture her nonchalantly throwing on a pair of beat-up Levi’s and a worn T-shirt and unknowingly being the coolest girl in town. This version of Joan would wear handmade silver jewelry that everyone would ask about and she’d never be the kind to gossip. She’d be the one who was nice to everyone, oblivious of her looks and the fact that all the guys liked her.

I realized that Bastien-Lepage, the painter whose name I could never remember, probably knew nothing of all this when he painted Joan. But he had to know how magically he had crafted her, how humble and gorgeous and strong she looked all at once. He had breathed life into her and created an athletic girl who could paddle her own canoe with those thick, sturdy wrists; a girl whose merit you couldn’t question. She appeared to be at least eighteen — older than she was supposed to have been — but still young enough to emanate a milk-fed wholesomeness.

I felt somehow protective of Joan while viewing the painted image of her standing in the wooded yard of a cottage with angels hovering behind her. “Look how spaced-out she is!” viewers around me would comment. Don’t judge her for this, I wanted to say to anyone who was looking.

In the painting Joan’s left arm is stretched outward, fingers interlaced with the leaves of a nearby tree, and her gaze is fixed upwards in an otherworldly stare. What always affected me the most about this painting (aside from the weirdness of what appeared to be toppled junk yard furniture lying around in front of the house, Southern-style) was the empathy and love that the painter embedded into Joan’s image.

I remember feeling struck by the kindness that came right through the paint as a child. Even then, it was specifically this lack of mockery — the absence of any nudge and wink — that also unsettled me. There were no metaphorical quotation marks around her image; Bastien-Lepage painted her vision as though it actually happened.

I had learned about Joan of Arc in one of the young-reader biographies about women that my mother had lined up for me when I was in the second grade, so she occupied an adjacent spot in my mind next to Eleanor Roosevelt, Amelia Earhart, Helen Keller, and Harriet Tubman. But I could never tell if she really belonged there. All of their facts were verified, but I had my doubts whether her backstory could be proven, too. As I grew older, the feeling I had while looking at the painting started to trouble me, and it stayed with me even during the long gaps between visits to the Met.

How could there be no trace of patronizing this girl for her nutty hallucinations? How could the painter so convincingly portray her as sturdy and reliable if he didn’t believe in her mythology at all? He couldn’t seriously believe all that religious stuff, I figured. I reasoned that he must’ve at least thought that Joan believed that she heard those voices, though it seemed impossible that he could actually believe it himself. But the paint seemed to say otherwise. Without consciously analyzing it, I interpreted the painting as heartfelt sincerity despite a foundation of disbelief.

As years went by I began to feel embarrassed by this elaborate lie of compassion, and by the time I was college-age, I suspected that maybe this contradiction was a part of being human. Maybe it was a clue to finding the key to the universe that adults never told you about, that you’d spend your life being adoringly humored by others who actually doubt you on some level but never want you to know it because they love you. Despite a childhood full of my own visions and premonitions, even I found it impossible to consider that God or his messengers had instructed a teenage French girl to lead troops into battle. Yet the painting made me desperately want to believe it.

I don’t remember having any knowledge as a child of Joan being burned at the stake; I just recall a vague sense that things ended badly. Maybe I conveniently forgot the death-by-fire part.

Up until my early twenties, the uncomfortable distance between wanting to believe someone out of kindness and actually knowing something else to be true stayed with me. I guess I always realized subconsciously that this might apply to how people related to me. And in a convoluted way, I suspected that it might approximate the way I questioned myself.

CHAPTER 1

The two Labrador mutts, Scooter and Maisy, were panting behind me on the trail in the woods at the Botanical Gardens before we made it to the clearing on that scorching June day in Georgia. It was the middle of a heat-wave, 1995. I was twenty-four years old, and that year I was house-sitting in the ante-bellum mansion belonging to Bill Berry, R.E.M.’s drummer, while the band was on tour. The dogs belonged to the band’s manager, whose home I also looked after. Part of my job was taking care of Scooter and Maisy, and I loved them as if they were my own.

They were almost the exact same size and shape as each other, about two-thirds the size of a full-grown Lab with Lab features. Maisy was all black and Scooter had the markings and coloring of what must have been his German shepherd parent. Everybody who saw them commented on how they loved each other, and they were dogs with a distinctive theatrical flair. If someone said that Maisy was doing something funny, like dragging her butt across the lawn by pulling herself with her front two paws, Scooter would put on a performance to outdo her — say, kicking up his hind legs like a mule. And he’d check periodically out of the corner of his eye to make sure everybody was watching.

I knew it was essentially crazy for me to be there with them in the woods that day at noon, and I was aware that my running had turned into a compulsion. The conversation I had with myself in my head started out as pretty standard stuff for me: I always played devil’s advocate in my own mind, pairing Ego against Super Ego. Or Defensive Do-Gooder against Stern Reasonable One. I’m still not sure if this is the mode in which all human brains work, but I was always beating myself up about something or other. The dialogue began like this:

Madam Rational: What are you doing running at noon in the middle of a heat wave?

Miss Defensive: Well, maybe all this running I do keeps me healthy. Look at me, I’m a vegetarian; I’m not into drugs; I exercise every day…you should thank me for doing this. I really pull out the stops to keep myself well.

Madam Rational: So what are you saying? People who get sick are at fault for their sickness? Maybe they wouldn’t get sick if they acted like you?

Miss Defensive: Well, maybe. Not like they’re being punished or anything, but maybe their life choices and thought patterns have contributed to their illness somehow. But maybe all these choices I make keep me healthy. Maybe all this effort…

And then my thoughts were cut off completely. My inner dialogue was boldly interrupted in a moment that changed my life forever. It hit me like an eighteen-wheeler that no one saw coming, sweeping a pedestrian off the street and into the air like a rag doll. This was the Joan of Arc experience for which I had unwittingly primed myself throughout my entire childhood. I heard a clear, booming voice in the woods outside of my body—a resolute voice that shook me in the fact that it was entirely sexless, without a trace of being either male or female. It was definitely not coming from inside my head. I had never heard a voice like this before.

“No, you’re wrong,” the voice said in response to my thoughts that I was keeping myself healthy. “You will either become paralyzed or you will develop multiple sclerosis.”

The voice was not scolding or reprimanding, simply informing me in a straightforward way. It was like there was a tacit clause — Excuse me, I hate to interrupt, but I just need to tell you — silently attached to the voice’s words. I didn’t believe in God or angels exactly, but either choice seemed like a pretty good guess at this point in time when trying to figure out who was addressing me while running through the woods. Before I tried to process any of it more deeply, I needed to give the owner of the voice my input: “Can I choose the multiple sclerosis?” I asked anxiously in my head. I’ll take the case behind curtain number two, Bob.

The answer was an implicit Yes. With words unspoken, I was made to understand that multiple sclerosis was what I was going home with. Sooner or later. But I really didn’t know who I was talking to. My rejection of the idea of a personified God — especially a white guy with a long white beard—had gotten me into plenty of heated debates. This voice I heard was singular, but it felt like it represented a consortium of guiding souls. In the past I had only believed in spirit guides theoretically, not as potential conversation partners to chat with while running alone in the woods. I had always felt connected to something other in the universe, a guiding force of goodness to which I didn’t want to give a name, but there was no room for this force to have talking points.

I didn’t really know what MS was. No one in my family had it, and I had only known one person who I thought suffered from it, a guy I went to college with named Stefan. He used cane before he hit twenty. After having a few drinks with him and a bunch of friends one night, someone in our group decided we had to eat the mother-made apple pie that was in the fridge of his third-floor walk-up apartment. Stefan crumbled near the bottom of the first flight of steep stairs in that colonial Virginian hallway, half-laughing in anguished torment while the tears flowed down his red, inebriated cheeks. The lump in his throat was as palpable to me as if I’d swallowed a chunk of charcoal myself. Stefan’s cane resting on the dark wooden steps burnt itself into my memory.

As I kept running, I confused MS with muscular dystrophy and was puzzled by thinking that it was a condition stemming from birth. But in my mind anything was more bearable than being paralyzed and being unable to walk or run at all. I didn’t need any time to opt for a mysterious diagnosis over a known fate I found intolerable. I couldn’t bear the thought of being paralyzed.

Oddly, it was the voice and not the message that unsettled me most. When I say that the voice was sexless, I don’t mean that it was vague and that I couldn’t figure out its gender. It was absolutely neither one. I didn’t know what this could mean; I had no frame of reference it, and it frightened me as though I had looked in a mirror and seen no reflection. If you asked me to recreate that voice, I couldn’t do it. Hearing it was like walking out of the house on a normal day and looking up to see two suns in a clear blue sky when everything else looks exactly like usual. My brain felt like it was short-circuiting. I had no yardstick with which to measure this experience, no compass to comprehend where the voice could be coming from. I was dumbfounded and terrified, with the rug of reality completely pulled out from under my feet, my head spinning, my heart pounding.

The words were haunting and unequivocal. They seemed to reverberate from another dimension, yet they felt like they hit my eardrums tangibly in the physical plane of the here and now. I had to stop running. Maybe this was a set-up from something like Candid Camera and a film crew would pop out from behind the trees at any moment, laughing at my bewilderment. Or maybe someone was doing a kooky sound art installation and I’d uncover a speaker camouflaged by branches. I looked around nervously, gazing up into the leafy canopy of treetops above me. There was nothing unusual anywhere. I called out, “Helloooo! Is anyone here?” I knew there would be no response.

I felt nauseous about what had just happened. There was no doubt, no room for dismissive self-questioning. I had heard what I heard clearly, from a voice resonating loudly from above. There was no chance that this was my inner voice speaking to me intuitively, no continuation of my previous mental chatter. This was a voice from somewhere else in the universe. The dogs kept running as they always did, elated as they dashed through the clearing in the sun. All I could do was start running again and follow them.

In the next few weeks I considered that maybe I should start seeing a therapist. What had happened to me was simply crazy and perhaps someone’s credentials could push it deeply enough to the back of my mind where I could forget about it for a while and convince myself in a couple of years that it had been some kind of quirky hallucination. Within a month, however, I had the first sign that the words of the voice were proving true. It was then July, and my body seemed to be confusing hot and cold sensations in my legs. I had never had any weird symptoms of any kind before, no sense or warning that anything was ever wrong.

Suddenly, when the fluffy grey cat I was taking care of as part of my house-sitting gig rubbed against my bare leg, I felt as though ice cubes were touching my raw nerves. The scalding leather of a car seat made my skin feel as though Freon were running through my body, keeping me air-conditioned from the inside out. I did realize that this is a seriously fortunate symptom to have when you’re spending July in Georgia, and it seemed like the universe at least had a good sense of humor about it. Yes, you’re going to be diagnosed with an incurable illness, but on the bright side, you’re not going to have to pay a fortune to get the air conditioning fixed.

When I finally worked up the gumption to open a medical encyclopedia from the built-in shelves in the oak library where I was staying, I flipped the pages nervously to multiple sclerosis. Oh God, there it was in black and white — a potentially debilitating neurological disease in which the body’s immune system eats away at the myelin, the protective sheath that covers the nerves.

I read on, shaking, as I underlined each passage with my index finger:

Numbness or weakness in one or more limbs, tremor, lack of coordination or unsteady gait: No, I could run five miles like a steam engine without breaking a sweat…definitely not me.

Double vision, blurring of vision, partial or complete loss of vision, usually in one eye at a time, often with pain during eye movement: Nuh-uh, I had perfect sight.

Electric-shock sensations: Oh crap! This was exactly me!

Tingling or pain in parts of the body: Okay, maybe not…

Fatigue, dizziness: No, no.

Cognitive impairment: WHAT the…?!

Somatosenory disorder, where neurological receptors that produce sensory modalities such as touch and temperature are impaired and in some cases reversed, causing warmth to be perceived as cold and vice versa: (Loud primal sobbing.)

At that moment the phone rang and I don’t know why I answered it, but I did, and it was my mother. I continued bawling. Through my tears I explained to her what had happened a few weeks prior in the woods and I could tell she was starting to cry, too, but trying to keep me from hearing her muffled sobs.

“No, Kim, you’re wrong—you just had a false premonition this time and this isn’t going to happen,” my mother stated in a steadier-than-usual cadence, wanting to convince us both. “Sometimes you ARE wrong and you’ve just let your imagination run away with you. You can’t make a diagnosis by looking at a book.” It didn’t sound like my mom talking; she had never told me she doubted me before.

“But Mom,” I cried, the tears still streaming down my cheeks, “you know I’ve never had a premonition that was wrong — and this was the clearest one ever!”

“You’ll see,” she said softly, “I just know it won’t happen like you think. It’s been very hot and you’ve been running too much, but there’s nothing wrong with you.”

My symptoms weren’t really terrible, but in my heart I knew I had to see a doctor. I wondered how I should phrase the problem, and I was terrified that I would sound like an insane hypochondriac. My complaints included feeling like Freon was coursing through my veins in hundred-degree heat; nerves that delivered electric shocks; and the feeling that it was all due to MS because of a voice in the woods. I could imagine answering the question I would be asked: No, absolutely NO family history of mental illness. Ever.

Somehow fate intervened on my behalf, and I wound up in the office of a compassionate internist at the University of Georgia healthcare center. The tension in my shoulders softened as I walked into his office. He was affable and seemed like the kind of guy who had young children. He had a lot of thick, straight hair with a side part, the way I would draw an exaggerated cartoon character with a generic male cut, and his eyes had a sympathetic droopiness at the outer corners. As I told Dr. Peteet my symptoms, I prayed he wouldn’t book me the first open appointment with the school psychiatrist. But he seemed to take me very seriously and I worked up the nerve to ask him what was really on my mind.

“Is there any chance that this could be multiple sclerosis?” I asked tentatively.

His answer was thoughtful and deliberate. “Yes, there is a remote possibility…but that’s probably the very last diagnosis we’d need to consider at this point. There are many other factors that could be causing this, and MS generally first appears through other symptoms than what you’ve described. This could very well be an isolated incidence — we’ll just have to keep an eye on you.”

My gratitude for his response swelled in me like a pink balloon as he went on to ask me general questions about my past health history, caffeine intake and stress levels. I was comforted by his manner, even though I was fairly certain that I was experiencing my first MS episode. But the truth was, I’d rather have MS and be sane than have nothing wrong with me and be stark-raving mad. I kept on running in the woods with the dogs as usual. In a couple of weeks, the symptoms completely disappeared. Maybe the disease would just never hit me too hard. Maybe it would.


Ms. Gledhill also makes these chapters available on her website, www.seeinginthedark.net. If any publishing companies or literary agents would like to get in touch with her, they can find her email address there. For more about Kim’s writing, see: www.kimgledhill.com.

Thanks again, Kim, for sharing your very personal story. I look forward to reading the rest of the book, and have no doubt that it will soon be published.

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