So much has happened since last I sat down to this journal. It’s been so long because I have been in a state of profound inner turmoil and discovery for these past few months. The reason is that the encounter I had on June 6 has gradually moved to the center of my inner life. I have reconstructed some of the conversation and found, to my amazement, that the parts I cannot remember correspond exactly with some of the notes that I took– almost as if I knew at the time that this would be impossible to remember.
This material concerns a hidden grammar of life– a sort of grammar of the soul, if you will– by which we live and govern ourselves. It is fascinating and provocative, and I actually have a means of reconstructing it. This comes from the Tarot. Unfortunately, I don’t quite know how to present it, because there is so very much superstition surrounding these cards. They are used for divination and are reviled by the Christian right as occult wickedness. But they have, in reality, nothing to do with the occult or with divination^?and yet, they do foretell the future, but in a very healthy and straightforward way.
What I did remember– not the material about the soul, but another whole section of the conversation, which concerned the environment– has sent me racing to scientific texts to try to see just beyond the present state of knowledge about our biosphere. And what I have discovered is just extraordinary. The discovery was just vaguely suggested by the contact experience, but it seems to me that it’s quite a discovery.
The old man I saw that night was a sort of male muse, I suppose. I don’t know how else to characterize him. Certainly, he didn’t arrive in a flowing gown to whisper marvelous ideas in my ear. But he came, and he sure had a lot of provocative things to say.
So, who was he? The morning after it happened, I called my wife and told her that there would come a time when I would look back on the whole thing as a dream. I asked her to remind me that it was not a dream.
As of right now, that’s how it seems– like a dream. The last time I sat down to write in this journal, I described it as a totally concrete experience. And that’s how it felt then. I even took notes, for God’s sake. Who ever took notes on a yellow pad during a dream? And yet, right now, it just plain does not seem real.
But when I sit down to transcribe the conversation, I certainly can do that– most of it. And I remember just how he looked and how he sounded, and the look in his eyes. I remember thinking, “is this really somebody from another world, somebody who has traveled through space?” But when I asked him, he said, “I’m your cousin.” Whoops, what did that mean. Also, when I asked if machines could have intelligence, he said, “we do.” But when I asked him if he was a machine, he replied, “If I was, I would deceive you.” Another question: do human beings have souls? Answer: “not all, but all may.”
So many people and news organizations have asked me about Art. At one point, I had to hide from the phone, it got so intense. All I have to say is this: the Bells are entitled to their privacy.
This did not work. When I met her, I was left with the impression that she was not an abductee, but that she had some other problem that had left her worried that a close encounter might be the answer. I could not offer her the forceful, decisive answers that she wanted, so I think that I came off in her mind as being sort of a weakling. Anyway, there will be no more Rosie O’Donnell appearances for me.
A lot of people with other problems suspect that they might be abductees. This is quite natural. But when you meet dozens of people with claims of abduction, the real ones definitely stand out. My impression of them is that they tend to be gentle people, open-minded and usually quite intelligent. They are not people with emotional problems.
If Rosie ever comments about us again, my thought is that she will say that we’re all suffering from some sort of buried emotional trauma. And as far as Whitley Strieber is concerned, he’s a man without the answers– makes a poor impression, is slightly paranoid, isn’t really worth spending any time on.
Or maybe I’m projecting. Maybe that’s how I feel about her.
Thoughts On the EQ Pegasi Flap
I was pretty sure that this would turn out to be a satellite. The reason is that the US and England, working together, have been frantically trying to put up satellites that would enable them to monitor the activities of the new European Union, which scares the hell out of them economically. Suddenly all sorts of European companies are turning into gigantic multinationals and the dollar has a powerful new competitor-currency in the Euro.
They are trying to reach a point where they can monitor every fax transmission, e-mail transmission, telephone call, wire and what have you in Europe. The EU knows this, and is going to get increasingly annoyed. Should we be against the use of such satellites? Well, the invasion of privacy that’s involved makes my blood boil. But we have a new economic kid on the block, and he is a giant, so maybe we’d better be darned careful.
The likelihood of finding an intelligent radio signal from another planet is probably trillions to one. Maybe it’s even worse. In my conversation with my visitor of June 6, the subject of intelligent life in the universe was addressed. He seemed to think that the number of intelligent species was tiny, and that they tended to go extinct a lot. Intelligence is a rare and vulnerable adaptation, according to him.
Is he right or not? Well, just to have higher life forms on it, a planet needs something to slow down the winds generated by its own rotational forces. If it wasn’t for the moon, there would be a continuous wind blowing of about 300 mph! And life on earth would never have progressed beyond the cellular level, if it existed at all.
Our moon apparently came about because of a collision with another body that took place almost at the beginning of earth’s existence. How likely is it that something like this is going to happen? Not very, I can assure you.
The fact is that the assumption that there must be millions and millions of intelligent species in the universe is probably just a romantic fantasy. It’s probably just like my visitor said– a matter of a few hundred scattered across an unimaginable vastness.
He said that the chances of SETI working were trillions to one. Trillions. Less than the chance of winning back to back lottery jackpots.
But what about him? Was he from one of these other civilizations, or was he just some guy who got into my room by a clever ploy and had a good gift of gab? Or was he a dream?
So many questions that must remain unanswered.
It is a late hour here in San Antonio. Late, and moonset is coming. A few weeks ago, we had a terrible flood here. Now they are having floods in Oklahoma and Honduras. Last week huge storms smashed through England. People are being killed by the weather everywhere, it seems.
I will spend half an hour in meditation and prayer, and then to bed.
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