May 12, 2008
Smokette says: Fritzcam is worth waking up for! Ausgezeichnet!
This is the home of Fritz the German housecat whose artist housemate (notice I avoid the word owner) has affixed a camera around Fritz’s neck to take photos, so that we humans can get a cat’s eye view of his world.
It includes a video with a song in German.
May 10, 2008
Another note: I really dislike calling the mercenaries in modern combat “contractors”. That sounds like they are going out and constructing buildings or something. Let’s call them what they are- MERCENARIES, soldiers for hire. They are often hired by corporations, corporations with their own armies. That alone should be pause for thought. No wonder they are killing pets as well.
To help wounded children in Iraq go to http://www.directaidiraq.org/ Obviously that is extremely important. But as humans we should never forget the harm we do to the non-human inhabitants of our planet.
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/global/main.jhtml?xml=/global/2008/05/02/noindex/ncat.xml
By Damien McElroy, Foreign Affairs Correspondent
02/05/2008
A former British soldier has been hailed as the “Cat Lady of Baghdad” after setting up a lifeline to evacuate pets from the war-torn city to Britain.
 |
| Simba al-Tikriti, who made an improbable escape from Iraq |
It is cloak-and-danger work, which means the 35-year old woman only wants to be known by her first name, Louise.
But she has spent tens of thousands of pounds over the past four years adopting pets. To cope with the costs, she has set up a website, Baghdad Cat Rescue.
“Some people buy flash cars, others flash clothes,” she said. “But it’s my animals that float my boat.”
A Territorial Army call up in 2003 turned into a career as a security consultant, working in some of the most dangerous areas of Iraq.
On a posting near Saddam Hussein’s birthplace Louise adopted her first cat, Simba al-Tikriti, a name that made the white tabby an honorary clansman of the late dictator.
Simba was also the first cat to reach Britain and a total of eight pets have since been brought out, including two dogs.
While she is prepared to give pets away to the right home, Louise’s parents have to cope with the task of caring for the animals while she is in Iraq, earning money needed to pay the mounting upkeep bills.
Louise’s current worries centre around a dog that will be released to her two-bedroom home near Birmingham next month.
“He despises cats,” she said. “I am hoping it’s an instinct thing that I can train out of him before he eats my cats.”
Despite her worst fears, Louise is planning a quick return to Baghdad.
She acknowledges that in a city where violence is indiscriminate and deprivations extreme, it is easy for most to turn a blind eye to the suffering of animals.
Cats were first domesticated in the Mesopotamian cradle of civilisation. Ancient Babylonian culture raised the veneration of felines to an art form.
Even today Baghdad ranks with Cairo and Istanbul in a clutch of cities suffused with cats, stray and home-bound.
Most are well-fed and respected by the locals but Louise said there is no safety net for the abused.
Mortar attacks aside, the biggest danger for cats in the Baghdad diplomatic compound where Louise works, is the giant American corporation, KBR and other contractors signed up to the behavioral rules of the US military’s General Order No 1.
“If you live in diplomatic compounds or other villas protected by the big contractors, adopting or feeding cats and other pets is banned and they will set traps to kill pets,” she said.
“I’ve helped one man get his last cat back to the UK after the contractor killed all the animals he had been feeding.”
Leuitenant-Colonel Raymond Dunton, a US army medical officer in Baghdad, admitted that 7,100 animals were trapped across all its bases in Iraq last year and 5,300 were put down.
He said the order is designed to ensure personnel do not face the threat of rabies and other diseases.
Dennis Quine, a former British embassy worker, is one of those Louise helped to bring his cat, Missy, to the UK.The hurdles they faced were formidable, he said.
“Friends have said it is stupid, asked why I’m doing this,” he said. “I tell them, ‘Hold on, this is nothing less than what I’d do for a friend.’ I was prepared to risk my life to get my cat out.”
The Cat Lady of Baghdad believes she will be offering a safe haven to cats for as long as she is working there. “I don’t find them,” she said. “They find me.”
May 3, 2008
Photo of Lauren Raine by Fahrusha
From April 13 thru April 16th, I was privileged to assist at Lauren Raine’s Masks of the Goddess seminar on the beautiful campus of the Kirpalu. I roomed in a nice facility called Hill House which was about a quarter mile away from the main building. Spring had just barely begun to bloom with the first tender blossoms and here and there, there were tiny patches of snow. The weather was crisp and splendid; the first scents of the awakening Gaia could be detected.
I was frankly very tentative about the idea of a roommate. I was glad to have company but as a light sleeper, I was afraid I’d be disturbed. To my surprise my roommate turned out to be a truly amazing woman named Martha (last name withheld to protect the innocent). She was a tough, strong, yet tender older lady who impressed me more than anyone I’ve met in a long time. Her honesty and wisdom were beyond that of many self-styled spiritual leaders, and here knowledge of nature and survival skills was formidable. We had some very valuable conversations.
The plaster casts that formed the masks
Lauren’s class had seven participants, all female. I guess guys mostly don’t want to make a Goddess mask, go figure. It is their loss. 
The participants had come from New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, New Hampshire and Ontario and included several dedicated craftswomen, a yoga teacher/actress, a midwife, a retired ballerina current yogini, a business woman philanthropist and a housewife.
One participant even wrote me a poem:
April 10, 2008
“Hearts can break and never mend together, life can be that way.”
Fleetwood Mac
Back in the ’90s I read an article in, I believe, New Age Magazine, by a heart transplant surgeon about heart transplant patients and how they inexplicably sometimes took on the characteristics of the deceased heart donor. I recall the article being titled “The Heart Remembers.” The surgeon also wrote a book that I was unable to track down. The book may have been The Heart’s Code by Paul Pearson, but I’m not sure. The article was totally fascinating and every now and then in the intervening time, I have mused over what I remember of the article. There was also a very entertaining movie, Return to Me, featuring David Duchovny about a man (Duchovny) whose wife dies and her heart is transplanted into a young lady (Minnie Driver) with whom Duchovny’s character falls in love. I was a big X-Files fan and so of course, I went to see this movie.
In the last two days I’ve come across two amazing new stories about heart transplant patients that I’d like to share. Clearly, the heart is not simply a muscle that pumps blood, clearly it is much more than that. It would seem that the cells of the heart retain the emotions of their original owner.
The first is from FoxNews:
http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,347151,00.html
HILTON HEAD ISLAND, S.C. — A man who received a heart transplant 12 years ago and later married the donor’s widow died the same way the donor did, authorities said: of a self-inflicted gunshot wound.
No foul play was suspected in 69-year-old Sonny Graham’s death at his Vidalia, Ga., home, investigators said. He was found Tuesday in a utility building in his backyard with a single shotgun wound to the throat, said Greg Harvey, a special agent with the Georgia Bureau of Investigation.
Graham, who was director of the Heritage golf tournament at Sea Pines from 1979 to 1983, was on the verge of congestive heart failure in 1995 when he got a call that a heart was available in Charleston.
That heart was from Terry Cottle, 33, who had shot himself, Berkeley County Coroner Glenn Rhoad said.
Grateful for his new heart, Graham began writing letters to the donor’s family to thank them. In January 1997, Graham met his donor’s widow, Cheryl Cottle, then 28, in Charleston.
“I felt like I had known her for years,” Graham told The (Hilton Head) Island Packet for a story in 2006. “I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. I just stared.”In 2001, Graham bought a home for Cottle and her four children in Vidalia. Three years later, they were married after Graham retired from his job as a plant manager for Hargray Communications in Hilton Head.
From their previous marriages, the couple had six children and six grandchildren scattered across South Carolina and Georgia.
Cheryl Graham, now 39, has worked at several hospices in Vidalia. A telephone message left Sunday at a listing for Cheryl and Sonny Graham in Vidalia was not immediately returned.
Sonny Graham’s friends said he would be remembered for his willingness to help people.
“Any time someone had a problem, the first reaction was, ‘Call Sonny Graham,’ ” said Bill Carson, Graham’s friend for more than 40 years. “It didn’t matter whether you had a flat tire on the side of the road or your washing machine didn’t work. He didn’t even have to know you to help you.”
The second from the Daily Mail is as follows:
I WAS GIVEN A YOUNG MAN’S HEART — AND STARTED CRAVING BEER AND KENTUCKY
FRIED CHICKEN. MY DAUGHTER SAID I EVEN WALKED LIKE A MAN
By Claire Sylvia
Daily Mail
April 9, 2008
One woman who believes this to be the case is Claire Sylvia, a divorced
mother of one.
She was 47 and dying from a disease called primary pulmonary hypertension
when, in 1988, she had a pioneering heartlung transplant in America.
She was given the organs of an 18-year-old boy who had been killed in a
motorcycle accident near his home in Maine.
Claire, a former professional dancer, then made an astonishing discovery:
she seemed to be acquiring the characteristics, and cravings, of the donor.
Here, in an extract from her book A Change Of Heart, Claire tells her
remarkable story…
…………..
During my final lucid moments before my heart-lung transplant, I was told
that a medical team would soon be leaving to “harvest” the organs that would
save my life.
My surgeon, Mr John Baldwin, would remain with me, ready to begin the
operation as soon as he was notified that the donor’s heart and lungs had
been removed. But by this time I was far too groggy to focus on these
details, which was probably just as well.
Eventually, Mr Baldwin said to me: “We’re going to put you under now,
Claire.
“I have to remind you that it is always possible that something could go
wrong, and the organs don’t arrive in good condition.
“This sometimes happens with the lungs, which are very fragile. They could
be damaged during transit. Sometimes, at the last minute, things don’t work
out.” I looked up at him and said: “That’s OK. Do what you have to. It’s in
God’s hands now.” After that, I don’t remember anything until slowly
becoming aware of a buzz of voices calling my name: “Claire, wake up. It’s
over.” I awakened gently, feeling no bodily or physical sensation — nothing
but pure consciousness and a cacophony of voices.
I couldn’t speak, but managed to wiggle my fingers.
Someone brought me a pen and paper, and I scribbled my question: Did I get
them? “Oh yes,” the voice said. “Everything’s fine.”
Then I lapsed back into unconsciousness.
Later, after my initial recovery from the operation, I began to think of
more questions.
How long would this new heart keep beating? How long would these new lungs
keep breathing? Would I reject my new organs?
I envisioned the new heart breaking free of its stitches and popping right
out of my body.
I wondered whether Mr Baldwin had sewn it in right.
I felt it was beating deeper in my chest than my old heart had. It felt
different.
When I asked the surgeon, he explained that he’d had to position my new
heart farther back than the old one, to fit it in.
It was nice to know that I still had some connection to reality.
With all my fears, though, I was just grateful to be alive.
I was also deeply thankful that a family I’d never met had made it possible
for me to by-pass death and rejoin the world.
It was a humbling thought, and I wanted to be worthy of their amazing gift.
When I told Gail Eddy — the transplant programme co-ordinator — how I
felt, she suggested writing to the donor’s family to express my gratitude.
While I couldn’t know their identity or give them my name, I knew my donor
was an 18-year-old boy who had been killed in a motorcycle accident.
Because I was the first person in the state to have such an operation, there
was a lot of publicity, and two reporters came to the hospital to interview
me.
One asked: “Now that you’ve had this miracle, what do you want more than
anything else?” “Actually,” I replied, “I’m dying for a beer right now.” I
was mortified that I had given such a flippant answer, and also surprised.
I didn’t even like beer. But the craving I felt was specifically for the
taste of beer.
For some bizarre reason, I was convinced that nothing else in the world
could quench my thirst.
That evening, an odd notion occurred to me: maybe the donor of my new
organs, this young man from Maine, had been a beer drinker.
Was it possible that my new heart had reached me with its own set of tastes
and preferences? It was a fascinating idea. During those early days, I had
no idea that I would look back on this curious comment as the first of many
mysteries after the transplant.
Or that, in the months ahead, I would sometimes wonder who was
choreographing changes in my preferences and personality. Was it me, or was
it my heart?
On the fifth day, though my body was doing fine, I fell into a profound
despair.
Part of what I was experiencing was a post-operative depression, but I was
also going through the early stages of an identity crisis. I mentioned my
feelings to Mr Baldwin, but he told me not even to think about it and “just
get on with my life”.
A month later, I left the hospital and moved into a medical halfway house a
few miles away.
Now that I could eat like a normal person, I found, bizarrely, I’d developed
a sudden fondness for certain foods I hadn’t liked before: Snickers bars,
green peppers, Kentucky Fried Chicken takeaway. As time went on, a strange
question crept into my mind. Although I hadn’t thought much about my donor,
I was acutely aware that I was living with a man’s heart — and I wondered
whether it was conceivable that this male heart might affect me sexually.
Until the transplant, I had spent most of my adult life either in a
relationship with a man or hoping to be in one.
But after the operation, while I still felt attracted to men, I didn’t feel
that same need to have a boyfriend.
I was freer and more independent than before — as if I had taken on a more
masculine outlook.
My personality was changing, too, and becoming more masculine.
I was more aggressive and assertive than I used to be, and more confident as
well.
I felt tougher, fitter and I stopped getting colds. Even my walk became more
manly. “Why are you walking like that?” my teenage daughter Amara asked.
“You’re lumbering — like a musclebound football player.” This new masculine
energy wasn’t limited to my walk. I felt a new power that I associated with
strength and vibrancy.
A certain feminine tentativeness had fallen away. My sexual preferences
didn’t change in an overt way — I remained a confirmed heterosexual — but
something had shifted deep within me.
And I could tell that others sensed it, too. I became friendly with a blonde
woman I met at a conference.
We spent time together and, when the conference was finished, I invited her
to stay for a few days.
It was innocent on my part, or so I thought, but as soon as we were alone
she made it clear that she was interested in a sexual relationship.
I declined her invitation, but her surprise at my lack of interest made me
wonder what kind of signals I had been sending out without realising it.
Around this time, I also had the most unforgettable dream of my life.
In it, I was in a grassy outdoor place, it was summer, and I was with a
tall, thin young man with sandy-coloured hair.
His name was Tim — possibly Tim Leighton, but I’m not sure.
I thought of him as Tim L. We seemed to be good friends.
As I walked away from him, I felt that something remained unfinished between
us. I returned to say goodbye and we kissed.
I seemed to inhale him into me in the deepest breath I had ever taken.
I felt like Tim and I would be together for ever. When the dream was over,
something had changed.
I woke up knowing that Tim L was my donor and that some parts of his spirit
and personality were now within me.
I wanted to check this information, but the transplant programme observed a
code of strict confidentiality.
I called Gail Eddy, the transplant co-ordinator.
Although she couldn’t tell me who my donor was, I hoped she could confirm
the name Tim L.
When I asked Gail, there was a momentary pause.
“I’m not supposed to discuss this with you,” she finally replied.
“Let it go. You’re opening a can of worms.” I was disappointed, but I
respected Gail’s judgment and assured her that I’d drop the subject.
The subject, however, refused to drop me. Some months later, while out at
the theatre, I met Fred, a rather handsome guy from Florida.
We talked about my transplant and about the donor. I wasn’t sure if Fred was
genuinely interested in my operation or if he was chatting me up, but there
was something about him I liked and I gave him my phone number.
Fred called the next morning and was eager to meet.
He said he’d been moved by my story and — bizarrely — had had a dream in
which he saw my donor’s obituary.
Together, he and I decided to go to Boston (the nearest city to the
accident) and search the newspapers for my donor’s obituary.
Fred was already there when I arrived, scrolling through the newspaper for
the week of my transplant.
We soon found the item we were searching for — an obituary for an
18-year-old who had died in a motorcycle accident.
His name was Timothy Lamirande. My dream about “Tim” was true after all.
I felt a weakness in my knees and collapsed into a chair.
The clipping mentioned five sisters and two brothers.
The family of my heart were right here on a piece of paper. Until this
moment, in a strange way I hadn’t been 100 per cent certain that the
transplant had even happened.
The process had been so otherworldly that it was easier to view it as a
miracle.
But, suddenly, I knew the donor was real and that he had a family.
There was the proof: a name, an address, a town.
A few days later, I met Gail Eddy and told her what had happened.
I asked her if she thought it was possible that Tim’s name was spoken by one
of the doctors during my surgery and that it somehow permeated my
unconscious.
“I was wondering the same thing,” said Gail.
“But the doctors are never aware of the donor’s name.
Besides, Mr Baldwin works in near silence: not a word is spoken.”
Almost nine months later, I had another dream about “Tim”.
I felt he was doing everything but send me directions to his parents’ house,
so I decided to contact his family.
I wrote to them and they agreed to me visiting them.
I drove to Milford in the state of Maine with a close friend.
We waited in a car park where Tim’s father would meet us.
As a large brown car drove slowly into view, my stomach tightened.
Mr Lamirande was smaller than I expected and greeted us with a simple
“Hello” — not the profound moment I was expecting.
We followed him to the house.
Tim’s parents lived in a world of freshly-mown lawns and large clapboard
houses.
I was incredibly nervous, and surprised to see three of Tim’s sisters there
to greet me, too.
So there I was, with Tim’s heart inside me, sitting on Tim’s couch next to
Tim’s mother, and we were talking about the weather.
We exchanged small talk before being joined by Annie, a fourth sister, who
was closest in age to Tim.
Leaning against the mantelpiece, she looked me in the eye and said: “So tell
us how you found us.”
The only thing which interrupted my story were the exclamations of
amazement. When I’d finished, many eyes were misted over with tears. “None
of the other people who received his organs have been in touch with us,”
Tim’s sister Carla said.
I learned that in addition to his heart and lungs, the family had donated
Tim’s corneas, kidneys and liver.
Mrs Lamirande — June, as she had asked me to call her — went to another
room and returned with a framed photograph.
Sitting back on the couch, she turned the picture so I could see it.
Tim wore glasses, although I hadn’t seen him that way in my dreams.
In this photo, he looked about 14.
He was dressed in formal clothes, standing beside a priest.
But even with the glasses, I could see the sparkle in his eyes. June started
to say something about Tim when she suddenly choked up.
Now the tears flowed. I felt a bond between us like nothing I had ever
known. But I couldn’t quite comprehend this: me holding Tim’s picture in my
hands and his heart in my chest.
I paused to take a breath and Tim’s lungs filled with air.
Except that they were my lungs now.
Mine to breathe with, as I grieved with his mother next to me. June said Tim
had had a tremendous amount of energy.
His sisters described how difficult it was to baby-sit him and how he tried
to run away from them.
“He was restless,” one of them added. Perhaps it explained why I, too, now
had so much energy.
“Was he a beer drinker?” I asked. His sisters nodded.
When I told them how I had wanted a beer soon after the operation, there
were smiles all around. It was so amazing just to be there that I had to
remind myself that I had come with some specific questions.
I asked if Tim had ever had colds and whether he recovered quickly.
They told me that he was hardly ever ill, and I wondered if this explained
my new-found resilience?
I also asked if he liked green peppers.
I’d never liked them before the operation — but afterwards I loved them and
included them in virtually every meal.
His sister told me that, yes, Tim had loved green peppers — “but what he
really loved were chicken nuggets”.
This explained my trips to Kentucky Fried Chicken. I was dumbfounded.
Later that weekend, before going home, I went for dinner with the Lamirandes
at a local restaurant.
In Tim’s honour, I ordered chicken nuggets.
The conversation was light; far removed from the purpose of my visit.
“I’m not much of a correspondent,” June told me, “so I won’t be writing very
much.
“But we want you to know that you’re welcome here any time you like.”
As we walked back to the Lamirandes’ house, June asked if I wanted to come
in for a little dessert.
Once inside, June disappeared and returned with a huge cake, decorated with
a single word in large print: WELCOME. As the mother of my heart presented
the cake to me, her face was beaming.
“Chocolate,” she said. “Tim’s favourite.”
……………
Extracted from “A Change Of Heart - A Memoir”
By Claire Sylvia with William Novak
…………
These stories are so amazing I can’t really add much else. I would conclude that we should pay more attention to, and have more respect for our hearts. A way in which I honor my heart is to listen to an open heart meditation by Mark Macy.
April 4, 2008
A while back, I wrote about the Large Hadron Collider in CERN Switzerland that was due to start up in May. Well folks, that story has been developing significantly. The LHC is the newest, biggest particle accelerator ever. Physicists are very excited by the prospects of this amazing machine starting up because it will allow them to study aspects of sub-atomic particles that will answer questions about the nature of the universe.
The imminent big question is whether use of LHC will cause doomsday for our planet! The physicists who want to get the Collider going say that the fears are based on outlandish theoretical possibilities. Nonetheless if any of these fears prove true they could spell the end of Earth. But how much have you heard about this relatively important news story? “Nada,” you say, but you’ve been hearing non-stop about Barack Obama’s bowling score. Hmmm. Twenty-four hour news channels and no word of a possible matter-eating black hole in Switzerland which could end the world.
At the time of my last posting the LHC was due to start-up in May. Now I hear the experiments will begin in August. In addition to the Russian scientists, Irina Aref’eva and Igor Volovich who have voiced fears, now Walter Wagner, a former nuclear safety officer, and Luis Sancho have filed a lawsuit in Hawaii (?) to stop the start-up.
What do these people think could happen?
1) A miniature black hole which could swallow the Earth (or just the LHC) .
2) Creation of strangelet particles which could turn all other particles they touch into strangelets too.
3) Magnetic mono-poles (large particles with only one magnetic pole) could be created which could turn atoms into an alternate form of matter.
There is a lot of fodder here for science fiction or very dark humor or maybe even a real doomsday. Frankly I think we are much more likely to be wiped out by an overpopulation of the human species sped up by mass die-outs of bees and other pollinators (birds and bats) but it would be nice to be aware that one day in August might be our last.
For more detailed info check out: http://cosmiclog.msnbc.msn.com/archive/2008/03/27/823924.aspx
And kudos to science writer Alan Boyle for noticing, and MSNBC for publishing a page not about the U.S. Primaries.
March 26, 2008
Above: Mask of Gaia by Lauren Raine
Do you want to have a creative mini-vacation this Spring? Are you interested in exploring the feminine side of the divine? Have you always imagined yourself as Venus or Nu’ut? Ishtar, Freya, Saraswati, Pele or Selu?
This April you can live out that creative dream at THE KRIPALU CENTER FOR YOGA AND HEALTH in the Berkshires (Massachusetts) by attending Lauren Raine’s Masks of the Goddess: Maskmaking, Ritual and the Goddess Within. Lauren is a wonderful artist and great spirit, who I’ve known for many years. She is dedicated to the concept of the divine feminine and the Gaia Principle.
You will be able to create your own mask and relate to it through ritual. The experience of making a mask is creative and spiritually nourishing and dates back centuries in a variety of cultures the world over.
The dates are:
April 13 – 16, 2008 (Sunday – Wednesday)
For information By Phone: 800-741-7353
March 21, 2008
The mind is not a thing. The mind is a series of processes. The brain is an organ inside the head that processes electrical stimuli, the brain is not the mind. The physical senses pick up a small band of the ambient frequencies out there and those are what the brain processes into our reality. What is going on within the other frequencies that the brain does not and cannot process? Are there other “things” or forces present with us that we cannot sense? Almost certainly so. What are the consequences to us of these other things and forces coexisting unseen and unsensed by most of us? Many people go about their daily lives and never once consider this. Consider now that what you know as “reality” is only a small band on the frequency within this time space continuum, like only being able to tune into one radio station, except this is not a radio show…this is your life.
March 15, 2008
My friend and MUFON investigator, John Yates, favors us with an on-site report of what is going on with the Stephenville Lights investigation.
In no particular order, here is what I remember of meeting: Room was full of “members only”, no-press allowed meeting of D/FW MUFON on Sunday March 9th. State Director of MUFON Ken Cherry and State Director of Field Investigations Steve Hudgins reported on the investigation conducted in Stephenville/Dublin Texas area. This is a long hour’s drive from the Dallas/Ft Worth Texas cities. The reporter from the local newspaper there and several MUFON Investigators that conducted interviews also reported to the group..
March 8, 2008
Short post here. There is a fake Stephenville website out there.
Angelia Joiner’s authentic site is www.stephenvillelights.com.
The inauthentic site is www.stephensvillelights.com. Don’t be fooled!
March 7, 2008
Here I am receiving my remote viewing certificate with TMI Director Paul Rademacher and instructor Paul Elder at David Francis Hall, Monroe Institute, VA, October 2007!March 3, 2008
By Bonnie Malkin and agencies
 |
Campaigners will submit a petition to the Scottish Parliament today calling for the last woman convicted under the Witchcraft Act to be pardoned.
Helen Duncan spent nine months in Holloway prison after being convicted at a trial in 1944.
Her conviction followed a seance at which the spirit of a dead sailor was said to have disclosed the loss of the battleship HMS Barham with most of her crew.The sinking had been kept secret by the authorities to maintain wartime morale, and was not disclosed for several months.A petition to the Westminster Government last year failed to secure a pardon, and the new petition urges the Scottish Government to urge the Home Secretary to reconsider the case.
The 1735 Witchcraft Act was repealed by the Fraudulent Mediums Act of 1951.
Scottish Parliament researchers said it was a common misconception that Mrs Duncan was convicted of being a witch.
“In fact, the 1735 Witchcraft Act was originally formulated to eradicate the belief in witches and its introduction meant that from 1735 onwards an individual could no longer be tried as a witch,” said their research paper.
“It was, however, possible to be prosecuted for pretending ‘to exercise or use any kind of witchcraft, sorcery, enchantment or conjuration, or undertake to tell fortunes’.
“Supposed contact with spirits fell into this category.”
A second petition asks MSPs to urge the Scottish Parliament to grant a posthumous pardon to all people convicted in Scotland under all witchcraft legislation.
The petitioners claim around 4,000 people were convicted, 85 per cent of them women.
The Witchcraft Act was in force between 1563 and 1736, and the top county for witchhunting was the area that is now East Lothian.
Torture was used to extract confessions as late as 1704, said the petition, and those convicted were almost always strangled before their body was burnt.
The petition states: “Many of today’s professions have their roots in tradition and what could be seen as mystical wisdom.
“Professions such as mediumship, herbalists, midwifery, reiki and many alternative therapies, to name just a few.”
And from Saudi Arabia via the BBC:
Pleas for condemned Saudi ‘witch’
|
By Heba Saleh BBC News
|
Human Rights Watch has appealed to Saudi Arabia to halt the execution of a woman convicted of witchcraft. In a letter to King Abdullah, the rights group described the trial and conviction of Fawza Falih as a miscarriage of justice. The illiterate woman was detained by religious police in 2005 and allegedly beaten and forced to fingerprint a confession that she could not read. Among her accusers was a man who alleged she made him impotent. Human Rights Watch said that Ms Falih had exhausted all her chances of appealing against her death sentence and she could only now be saved if King Abdullah intervened. ‘Undefined’ crime The US-based group is asking the Saudi ruler to void Ms Falih’s conviction and to bring charges against the religious police who detained her and are alleged to have mistreated her. Its letter to King Abdullah says the woman was tried for the undefined crime of witchcraft and that her conviction was on the basis of the written statements of witnesses who said that she had bewitched them. Human Rights Watch says the trial failed to meet the safeguards in the Saudi justice system. The confession which the defendant was forced to fingerprint was not even read out to her, the group says. Also Ms Falih and her representatives were not allowed to attend most of the hearings. When an appeal court decided she should not be executed, the law courts imposed the death sentence again, arguing that it would be in the public interest. 
Before I go any further with my commentary, may I ask my readers to go to a petition to save this woman’s life.
What is a witch? Is it someone who practices Wicca, an animist faith of Earth-based spirituality? That could certainly be one definition. But it probably does not define either of these women. A dowser is also sometimes called a witch, but certainly neither of these women are or were being persecuted for dowsing. No, in both cases the definition would be one who practices sorcery, usually a woman, a sorceress.
In the English case, Helen Duncan, apparently through mediumship, had sensitive knowledge which she could not have obtained through her five ordinary senses. In the case of Fawza Falih there appears to be no evidence whatsoever that anything criminal, paranormal or otherwise has occurred. Indeed, if a woman could cause impotence in a man with a withering look, surely there would be no rape, and far fewer unwanted pregnancies or babies in the world. In fact Saudi Arabia is a place where the rape victim is punished, often by death, and the perpetrator goes free or gets a slap on the wrist.
Even in countries that have a veneer of equal rights for women, the appellation of “witch” or “bitch” is commonly used to marginalize powerful women. Although women make up 51% of the US population there has never been a woman president. Why? Because powerful women get marginalized by being called these names and by being held to a different standard than men.
February 25, 2008
Atlantic City’s Trump Plaza was the site of the Atlantic Coast UFO Conference over the weekend of February 15th, 16th, and 17th. I had the great pleasure of attending. On Friday night there was a cocktail party which most of the presenters attended. During that event George Filer of Filer’s Files was honored with a lifetime achievement award. You can access Filer’s Files at http://www.ufoinfo.com/filer/index.shtml. The award was presented by Peter Robbins and Jackie Perkins.
In an earlier post I wrote about a wonderful book, Captured! The Betty and Barney Hill UFO Experience written by Kathleen Marden, the niece of Betty Hill, and Stanton Friedman. I was fortunate enough to chat with Kathy Marden at the cocktail party.February 14, 2008
It’s not over yet in Stephensville, Texas. Sightings continue. The following is a quote from an eye witness: “Also this one was more stationary and not bouncing around like the night of Jan. 8. Now, you cannot see it with the naked eye but it was spinning. And the guy that called said he could see it spinning through the telescope. But, he said he could see something attached to the top and the bottom, something like a capsule or some kind of object. He also told me it was bouncing around in his telescope view but didn’t bounce around when viewing with the naked eye.” Constable Lee Roy Gaitan
The complete article with photograph & video: http://www.stephenvillelights.com/
This brings me to speculate further that these visitors could be from the future due to the spinning motion of the craft. Or perhaps the Air Force is working on a time machine and that is why they are intent on shutting up the vocal witnesses.
Here is a link to a you-tube video explaining spinning and time travel:
YouTube - Discovery - First Time Machine
I believe time would stop totally if the Universe stopped spinning and moving. My argument with physical “in the biological body” time travel has always been that we are not anywhere nearly in the same place in the Universe that we were, say, 100 years ago. The Earth is spinning and also circumnavigating its orbit around the Sun. The Sun is orbiting the Milky Way Galaxy and the galaxy is also traveling through the Universe. But if you view Earth as static and everything else moving relative to it, does that change anything? I don’t know.
February 13, 2008
I’ve just finished reading this intriguing book of historical fiction by Noëlle Sickels called The Medium. I highly recommend it for a variety of reasons. Firstly, and most importantly, it is a good read and an easy read. It is the very human story of a young German-American girl, Helen Schneider, living with her family in Bergen County, New Jersey during the prelude to World War II and throughout the war to its conclusion. There are home vignettes and love stories embedded within the novel that are poignant.
But more than that it is the story of the experience of mediumship within a family. The girl’s grandmother is a medium by trade and holds seances in the neighborhood to augment the family’s income. Helen begins having premonitions and when she attends a seance at her grandmother’s urging she discovers her ability to converse with spirits while in a trance state. This realization both intrigues and frightens Helen who must come to terms with her burgeoning psychic and mediumistic abilities.
The story is very believable in most aspects, especially in the geographic references and the rich cultural milieu of the German-American family. Some readers may balk at the concept of emanations, that is physical manifestations emerging from the body during a trance. There is a nineteenth century quality about emanations. But the reference to remote viewing near the end of the book is an anachronism which is more disturbing since it comes thirty years too early. I have no doubt that the military intelligence of the day would be interested in the correct perceptions of a gifted psychic, but to refer to the remote viewing program, a phrase that was not coined until the 1970’s, tarnishes the very careful research done on many aspects of the American scene presented here. I felt very educated by the book concerning detention centers for German and Italian Americans that I was unaware had existed. The training for blind soldiers returning from the war was detailed and well woven into the thread of the story.
You will enjoy reading this book.
February 7, 2008
The biggest and best hadron atom smasher is scheduled to be tested at Cern outside Geneva in Switzerland very soon. It is called the Large Hadron Collider and it will be the most powerful particle accelerator to date. Some Russian scientists, Irina Aref’eva and Igor Volovich posit the idea that a wormhole could be created by this test which would enable time travel (the initial wormhole would theoretically be the size of a subatomic particle). The study of physics has yielded no reason why time cannot be traversed in both directions and many scientists think that time travel will be possible in the future.
A big question here is: if time travel is likely in the future why haven’t time travelers come back to visit us in the present or past? Or have they? Are some or all UFOs time travel vehicles? Is that why persons who claim to have had abduction experiences often tell of future ecological issues of which the visitors warn them. It is a possibility to ponder.
Here is the story of the hadron collider from New Scientist magazine:
Photo of hadron collider by Peter McCready click here.
February 5, 2008
The venerable Maharishi Mahesh Yogi has passed away. During the political primary frenzy on the major US media, I found this important article on the BBC News online. It is one of many important stories that has been thus far virtually ignored in the United States.
Maharishi Mahesh Yogi was much beloved and he is largely responsible for introducing transcendental meditation to the English speaking world during the late 1960’s and 1970’s. He will be greatly missed.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/south_asia/3747053.stm
The Maharishi became well-known in the 1960s
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The most flamboyant of the self-styled Indian gurus to emerge from the Woodstock era, the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi was a man of charisma, energy and untold riches, credited with setting the Beatles and other stars on the path to spiritual enlightenment. The roots of the Maharishi’s life remain shrouded in mystery. He said himself that “monks are not expected to speak about themselves; the message is important, not the person.” It seems likely he was born sometime between 1911 and 1918.
The son of a government revenue inspector, Mahesh trained as a physicist and worked in a factory, before devoting his life to the study of the Vedic science of consciousness.
His spiritual mentor Jagadguru Shankaracharya, bequeathed to Mahesh the task of keeping the tradition of Transcendental Meditation alive, and the young Maharishi retreated to prepare.
During two years of Himalayan silence, the precocious sage honed his thoughts on TM, what he called “a spontaneous, effortless march to one’s own unbound essence.”
By 1959, his “technique” - that of unfolding the potential of Natural Law to improve all areas of life - was complete, and he set off on his first international mission of peace.
The Maharishi’s commercial mantras drew criticism from stricter Hindus, but his promises of better health, stress relief and spiritual enlightenment drew devotees from all over the world.
Celebrity neophytes included the Rolling Stones, Shirley MacLaine and Mia Farrow.
With the Beatles in 1967
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The Beatles were spending a weekend with Mahesh Yogi in Bangor, Wales, when their manager, Brian Epstein, committed suicide in August, 1967. Their enlightened teacher told them to “forget it, be happy”.
The mesmerised band planned a three month retreat to the Maharishi’s Rishikesh ashram, but the trip descended into farce. Ringo Starr went home after 10 days “for egg and chips”, and the others soon followed.
John Lennon admitted to “an error of judgement”, writing the scathing “Sexy Sadie” about him. George Harrison defected to the Hare Krishna movement, though he continued supporting the Maharishi’s Natural Law party in Britain which stood in general elections between 1992 and 2001.
Despite these setbacks, by 1972, the glamorous guru had attracted 100,000 members to his Academy, set up Institutes of Meditation across the world and made the cover of Time magazine.
Business empire
This self-accredited international peace keeper claimed credit for keeping peace in the Lebanon and Mozambique, and for reducing crime on the streets of Washington, through his power over the collective consciousness.
Western students funded his Academy of Spiritual Enlightenment with a tithe of one week’s wages, and the Maharishi’s business empire spread from the poverty-stricken streets of Delhi, to his American business branch in Iowa.
From his corporate headquarters in the Netherlands, viewers could receive his mantras on a 24-hour television cable channel.
Yogic flying is practised by the Maharishi’s devotees
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The Rasputinesque figure, usually associated with flower children and bouncing mantras, tried to influence the global economy with his own brand of positive thinking, including one particularly physical levitation session at the World Bank.
At his Universities of Management, advanced students were offered courses in levitation, but the majority of study was aimed at “improving managerial consciousness.”
The man who brought the powers of eastern meditation to the west, took a Wall Street methodology back with him to the banks of the Ganges.
In 1997, he founded India’s new Institute of Technology, a 500-acre educational kingdom, and two years later, courted controversy with plans for urban improvement in San Paulo, Brazil.
The Maharishi’s principles of Natural Law allowed him to ally such profit-making schemes with his undaunted spirituality. He said himself, “Managers are the most creative people in the world.”
His own managerial consciousness permitted him to inhabit a 200-room mansion, with a fleet of cars, helicopters and a hundred security guards, described as a cross between “Blackpool and Lourdes”.
In January 2008, he announced his retirement and retreat into silence at his home in Vlodrop, saying his work was done and that he wanted to dedicate his remaining days to studying ancient Indian texts.
He died peacefully in his sleep the following month, reportedly of natural causes.
With his strong personality, beatific smile and high-pitched giggle, Mahesh Yogi was no holy hermit. He managed the contradictions of his lifestyle with the simple command to “Just be yourself”.
The greatest exponent of his own technique, the Maharishi accredited all his successes, spiritual and secular, to the singular “power of om”.
January 17, 2008
Recently on one of the listserves about (mostly) metaphysical issues, that I subscribe to, there was a discussion about taking a stand for a cause versus standing down. It was very disturbing to me. I recall some time ago reading a criticism of the so-called New Age movement that alleged that members of the movement were being duped into mindless submission and inaction by others with ulterior motives. The critic said that these others were pushing a philosophy which involved inaction in the physical world in favor of positive thinking and mental manipulations, to replace protests and civil disobedience, making it easier for people with totalitarian ambitions to seize control. I do not know that that is true.
In any case, many on this listserve were in favor of nonaction. I am not talking about peaceful resistance of the sort that Gandhi preached, but standing back and playing it safe in order to survive. And they were expounding metaphysical reasons for doing so. I humbly disagree. If you are a person who believes that this life is all there is, only one time around and then the light is extinguished, you might argue for playing it safe in order to extend existence as long as possible. But you could also want to savor the gusto of being immersed in life’s adventure to the hilt. If you are a traditional Christian, one suspects you believe you were put here for a Divine Reason and you should fight the good fight for what you perceive as right and help your fellow man, and not shrink into your safety zone. If you are a believer in some form of reincarnation it usually involves learning lessons and burning karma in each successive life and that means participating. I am aware that this is a vast generalization.
I myself do try to stay involved and feel a bit guilty when my inner journey takes precedence for too long . So partly to assuage my guilt but really because it is the right thing to do, I would like to introduce you to some people who are trying to make a difference in this space time continuum here on Earth.
The Bond Street Theater Coalition, headed by Michael McGuigan and Joanna Sherman, brings theater and clowning to places of strife around the world and in that performance venue they address social, political, and environmental issues that are substantive to the audience. They say about themselves that they are “A physical theatre company with a social consciousness, a global view, and a sense of humor.” At great personal cost and risk they have gone to the Balkans, Afghanistan, India and Pakistan to promote cross cultural understanding. Please do yourself a favor and check out their work.
Changing the world really does happen one person at a time.
January 12, 2008
On the morning of January 10th I awoke abruptly from sleep with an image clearly emblazoned in my mind. The image was of a piece of white paper, slightly crumpled but unwrinkled and untorn, as though it had been outside a bit. On it was written, I believe, a quote from the Bible. It was written hastily in dark black pencil or ink by someone who printed in a manner that, graphologically speaking, would seem to be a vigorous man with mechanical talent. I could not read what it said. It flashed before my newly conscious mind the way a remote viewing sometimes does, as a camera lens aperture snaps a quick shot. I did see the book of the Bible though and it was John. I got the strong feeling that the paper was left at the scene of an occurrence for which the writer was responsible. I got the feeling that it was in the Southeast of the USA.
I got up a little while later and while making coffee, noticed not for the first time, the smell of cigar smoke. No one here smokes cigars.
Later on that morning I fell back asleep briefly. Again I woke with a start to the sound of people outside. I got up and ran down and opened the door, where I saw people standing staring at thick smoke of a yellow grey variety in the distance moving towards me and them like a wall. I quickly slammed the door shut. And then I woke again to this reality. I’ve had some trouble sleeping for the last couple nights due to being very awake at bedtime. This departs from my typical insomnia in which I wake up in the middle of the night after several hours. I am looking at the Book of John to find clues.
January 3, 2008
I am sure that many people who read this are aware of additives which are added to our food and cosmetics supposedly for our own good. Many of us apply sunscreen, or wear makeup with vitamins, or eat yogurt with added cultures all in the hopes that we will remain attractive or healthy longer. But how many of us know that some additives are made of bits so small that they are 80,000 times thinner than a human hair and that these bits easily penetrate human organs including placenta and fetuses thereby also entering into children before they are born. These nanoparticles do not seem to be as carefully regulated as they ought to be. This could be cause for great medical concern in the future when we are all filled up with the stuff and our bodies react in an unexpected way. Yeah, I know, you didn’t need something else to worry about. Sorry.
The links below were sent to me by my friend Bill formerly of Superior:
Britain’s Daily Mail
December 19, 2007
I really don’t want this post to be a political rant, but please consider the facts here. Dennis Kucinich is running for President of the United States and the major media press rarely give his actual ideas time or coverage. I think he has some very good ideas and I invite readers to check out his website. I believe many Americans would agree with his ideas if they were aware of what they were.
So what kind of coverage is he given by the press. Basically they deride him because he admits to having seen something airbourne in the sky that he couldn’t identify. That is what a U.F.O. is, an unidentified flying object. I’ve seen one too, in the company of other onlookers and two policemen who were also watching. Dennis and I are in good company. Former President Jimmy Carter and former Arizona Governor Fife Symington have seen unidentified things in the sky along with airline and Air Force pilots and others of excellent reputation. To my knowledge neither Carter nor Kucinich make any claims to know the exact nature of what they saw. So basically they are admitting to seeing something that defied identification.
There are billions of stars in the Universe and many of them have planets circling them that could support life. There could be thousands of advanced civilizations in space capable of interstellar travel. This is not a matter of belief, it either is or it isn’t factually, and until it is proven one way or another, it is ignorant of the media to be derisive of anyone merely reporting what they saw. But I do not believe that the media does this out of ignorance. It is a plan to sideline people from politics who are a threat to the the multinational corporations which own the major media outlets. Remember when the major media tried to sideline, (in my opinion) the greatest American of my lifetime, Al Gore, by spending days talking about how he had changed his choice of clothing color to earth tones? Not exactly important policy information. This was meant to simply muddy the waters and stifle real debate about pertinent issues. Never mind GWB couldn’t find Iraq on the map, Al Gore wore earth tones.
Let’s look at the the media’s current darling, Mike Huckabee. What are his beliefs and disbeliefs? He doesn’t believe in evolution but he does believe in creationism. Will he force our public schools to teach creationism if elected? He believes in literal Biblical Armaggedon and possibly “the Rapture“. How will these beliefs color our foreign policy if Huckabee is elected? I affirm the freedom for anyone to believe what they want, but personally do not favor dying in an atomic catastrophe caused by someone attempting to create Armaggedon while commanding the world’s largest thermonuclear arsenal.
Related: To admit entertaining the view that UFOs are real is to subject yourself to scorn by the media. A current news story from Japan.
