tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2019724693487670016.post3792373486802634919..comments2024-03-24T20:16:30.097-07:00Comments on The Big Study: Mischief-MakersThe Professorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07811807639219365621noreply@blogger.comBlogger9125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2019724693487670016.post-24168350908905282042013-04-07T03:58:22.806-07:002013-04-07T03:58:22.806-07:00the small beings , usually looked like a baby walk...the small beings , usually looked like a baby walking like a boy, can be had for a price, to enrich the owner by stealing valuables from other people. its called Tuyul in indonesian. The price is usually an offering regularly made to the tuyul itself , basically a spirit worship. In some cases the asking price is one of the child of the owner , if newborn usually dies, if young child usually got sickly or mentally retarded.<br /><br />and this is real witchdoctor service, not a joke post. <br /><br />also available are charms for making one look beautiful to old age, usually planting something inside the skin, or charm to woo a lady , everything can be had if you are willing to pay the price. and usually these charms are regional or territorial, meaning they lost effectiveness if taken out from the current terrirtory, as if there are different spiritual ruler for each territory..<br /><br />Myabe this sound far fetched to westerner even those who believe in supernaturals, but in asia this kind of spiritism is very common.. and very dangerous tooAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2019724693487670016.post-81292857083116404692009-10-19T21:03:15.760-07:002009-10-19T21:03:15.760-07:00Rob, Dick was so analytical that it is surprising ...Rob, Dick was so analytical that it is surprising that he had the experience, but I'm happy that he did. It shows me that even our old "hard sell" Hall had a lively romantic in him that he didn't show enough. Dick fought the good and guarded fight for UFO respectability so intensely, that it was tough for his "kid" to surface. If we lived in a kinder and less fearful world, we could all have regular recess jailbreaks and fly with Dick's birds and the other denizens of the air in our research and our intuition. I really hope that Dick accepted this personal anomaly that his mind KNEW had happened even though his reason told him no. He needed more of that, and he'd earned it. You'll have your pixies and reality shifts too, Rob, I'll try to send some Irish imps to Virginia. It would help, though if you changed your name to O'Swiatek. GOD bless and peace [with a few leprechaun interruptions].The Professorhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07811807639219365621noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2019724693487670016.post-53242356701609406612009-10-19T19:17:46.764-07:002009-10-19T19:17:46.764-07:00Mike--
Our good friend, the late Richard Hall, app...Mike--<br />Our good friend, the late Richard Hall, apparently encountered the Mischief-Maker in Brentwood, Maryland, in the mid-90s. He circulated an e-letter about this some time back:<br /><br />Brentwood Weirdness<br /><br /> While recuperating from hip replacement operation at home (visiting nurse once or twice a week), I consolidated my day-to-day activities in the livingroom, slept on the couch, used a small microwave oven to heat up canned/packaged foods, etc. When necessary, I hobbled to the kitchen or the bathroom using a walker. Frankly, I have repressed memories of what happened because it was so baffling and confusing, and I could not even imagine a "rational explanation" and I am not sure of the exact sequence of events any more. At some point in there, I was going past my normal bedroom to the bathroom and glanced in and saw clothes laid out on my bed (which I hadn't used in weeks).<br /> Puzzled, I went in and looked around. Yes, I was occasionally on some kind of narcotic painkiller (though I never used up the prescription) and would like to believe that as an "explanation," but I can't because those things just made me sleepy; they did not distort my perceptions. About the same time, as I often did keeping erratic hours dependent on dozing and waking while watching TV or listening to music, one night I fell asleep on the couch with my glasses on. Next morning the glasses were gone. Naturally, I assumed they had fallen on<br />the floor but they were nowhere to be seen. Besides, I slept on my<br />back (I had to) and was rather immobile. But the glasses were not anywhere on the couch either. I kept searching compulsively, looking everywhere, but with no luck. They stayed missing for about a week.<br /> Then one day I opened the refrigerator door (probably looking for juice or some beverage) and there they were on the top shelf sitting in a pan of birdseed. WELL! Although I do feed the birds in the winter, I do not do so in the summer and as I recall didn't even have a supply of seed at that time. It tends to become moldy, especially in my climate, if not used. Second, I do not store birdseed or carry it around in a pie tin. Third, I had opened and closed that refrigerator door numerous times before, and the glasses and/or pan were NOT there. The top shelf is roughly at eye level; my "cupboard was bare" anyway, and I could hardly have missed seeing them. In fact, my immediate reaction when I saw the glasses was one of astonishment. They were the first things that caught my eye when I opened the door. Although I am a "disciple" of Charles Fort and am convinced that lots of strange and inexplicable things happen in this world that are rejected by science when they can't immediately be pigeonholed, this one is SO strange that I am forced to question my own senses. Yet, I know it really happened. -- Dick<br /><br />Such events seem to be sine qua non for Fortean researchers, except I haven't had mine yet... --Rob SwiatekAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2019724693487670016.post-40276815378103833942009-10-19T09:01:46.045-07:002009-10-19T09:01:46.045-07:00Illness or not, if the memory of the unreachable h...Illness or not, if the memory of the unreachable hatbox is correct, that signature fact cuts through the rest of the debate and debunking. I'll correct the "often". For me one "black swan" is plenty anyway.The Professorhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07811807639219365621noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2019724693487670016.post-61445610608152078662009-10-18T22:20:56.476-07:002009-10-18T22:20:56.476-07:00Mike:
My mother had exactly two experiences of ...Mike:<br /> My mother had exactly two experiences of "fairies" rather than "often" having them. She was in her mother's bed because she was sick, and that bed was more comfortable. My mother was perplexed, still, in her 50s--it should have been a fever-dream, "but then why was she beatin' me up?" (She was always very alive to the impact of physical punishment on a kid, which to me added weight to this being real rather than conflated memory. I knew her.) <br /> Hypotheses can fan out in all directions for these experiences. But the illness ought to be latched firmly onto the rest of the story. It just might be a relevant data-point.<br /> Now let's see if the comment demon lets me sign my name: Frank John Reid.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2019724693487670016.post-89145148822567091932009-10-18T16:09:22.201-07:002009-10-18T16:09:22.201-07:00This blog is about adventure, which like Luke Skyw...This blog is about adventure, which like Luke Skywalker we crave in this constricted world, and which, despite what Yoda might deem responsible behavior, is what our spirits' require to soar a bit and become in touch and creative. The subjects of the blog are beyond price in that each of them may be real--and real in some magnificent way. I hope that more people let the constrictions slide away, and open up to these things [maybe not Ouija, that's a little scary], and partake as Obiwan says in a far larger world.The Professorhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07811807639219365621noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2019724693487670016.post-21869205844910756232009-10-18T14:19:01.967-07:002009-10-18T14:19:01.967-07:00My Dad just told me a tale similar to the disappea...My Dad just told me a tale similar to the disappearing closet item story. I cannot recall all of the details but it went something like this: He and my Mom were watching their granddaughters play in the living room. My Dad goes into the kitchen to grab his car keys from the counter. They're not there. He asks my Mom if she's seen them and she can only remember them being on the counter. He asks the girls if they have seen the keys, to which they reply "no", which makes sense because they've been with the girls the entire time, plus, it would be extremely difficult for either one of the granddaughters to climb up onto the counter and reach the keys, which were sitting against the wall. Having looked in all logical places and probably some that didn't make any sense, my Dad walks frustratingly back into the kitchen to find the keys sitting in exactly the same place where he had originally left them. My Mom is his witness. The girls maintain their innocence. Could a Newbury fairy be to blame?<br /><br />As far as cutting down on your posts goes, you've definitely spoiled us all with the frequency of your entries; each of which propels me into a kind of information feeding frenzy, requiring adequate time for digestion. If anything, less frequent posts might cut down on my indigestion, then again, so would staying away from Don Hermann's pickles. Back to reading Dr. Evans-Wentz's "Fairy Faith"...Newbhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07291924937978548122noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2019724693487670016.post-54238521532338799202009-10-18T13:19:19.401-07:002009-10-18T13:19:19.401-07:00Jerry, all of us who know you have secretly suspec...Jerry, all of us who know you have secretly suspected that you are the center of the weird universe, and it becomes clearer each day. My sister to whom this is happening all the time will be happy to send her "imp" to Canby. Affectionately, your buddy.The Professorhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07811807639219365621noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2019724693487670016.post-36789729033782706802009-10-18T12:11:08.248-07:002009-10-18T12:11:08.248-07:00Mike,
I deal with some of these issues in my next...Mike,<br /><br />I deal with some of these issues in my next book, Hidden Realms, which Visible Ink Press will publish next year. The following isn't in the book, but since you mention oddities of quotidian life:<br /><br />Here in my office, located in a large room in the back of our house's first floor, I labor amid my work-related books (which are numerous) and most of my CD collection (likewise oversized). With each of these, I have had one curious experience for which I can imagine no prosaic explanation that seems plausible to me, though of course I can prove nothing un-prosaic either. <br /><br />The book-related experience took place more recently, within the past month. As background I need to relate that when I was married to my first wife 30 years ago and living in the Chicago area, I bought and read Stanislaw Lem's novel The Investigation. I found it riveting and -- until I read John Fowles's A Maggot a few years later -- judged it the finest, most thoughtful literary treatment of anomalies and their meaning that I had ever seen. In the early-1980s divorce and division of property, my copy of the Lem novel vanished. From time to time over the years (and the move to Minnesota in 1989), I would lament the book's absence. I wanted very much to reread it.<br /><br />Not long ago, I was writing something and needed to check a source. Walking down one of the rows of books, I happened to glance down and notice one volume inexplicably jutting out from the bottom shelf. (I say "inexplicably" because this shelf happens to house the books I most rarely consult.) I reached down to push it back in. <br /><br />I don't need to tell you what the title was.Jerry Clarknoreply@blogger.com