> Entry #382356, added on 10-28-05 @ 2:56 pm EDT.
[Entry Access Restriction] None.
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Title: :***-*:: mystery continues
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The components of memory will probably be found to operate on the quantum level; hence it will be dangerous to observe them.
For when observed they will be altered; and thus so too will be the subject.
This can be analogized by the common delusion of the schizophrenic type, who imagines seeing men in masks standing around him, operating on his brain, boring holes into it and so forth.
Also, the terrifying “waking dreams” certain women seem to experience in which they are kidnapped, probed, and implanted by wide-eyed extraterrestrials.
Maybe there are real beings really doing these things to us.
Maybe we are doing these things to ourselves in a future age, an unfortunate byproduct of quantum observation.
In a distant time, a brave, yet reckless scientist has discovered the means by which to find and observe the smallest particles of life.
He calls them { } particles.
He does it by freezing time.
He looks in at the frozen particles and says, “Eureka!
We have discovered that which is responsible for memory!
We have discovered perception!
We have discovered consciousness!
We have discovered the building blocks of reality!
All we have to do now is open it and look inside!”
Meanwhile, as a result, all over the world, and in all time fields past, present, and future, we are opening our eyes to monsters prodding at us, probing in us, operating on us.
Our nightmares take the forms of our beliefs.
A young girl sees a pair of glowing red eyes in the dark.
A Pentecostal boy is terrorized by the devil whose outline he sees in his closet, just waiting for him to slip up and blaspheme the holy spirit.
An old soldier is smothered by the maggot-dripping corpses of the race of people he was sent across the globe to destroy.
A woman sees the ceiling above her bed melt away in a murky blue light, and soon she is on a gurney and large-headed beings with huge gray eyes and tiny slits for mouths are shoving a baby into her womb, and then taking it out again, covered in slime.
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Yet for all the terrors wreaked upon mankind of every time by these future quantum observers, some good has arisen too.
No energy is bad energy in its entirety; my Hindu neighbors could tell you that.
Also sent through those timeless quantum waves to some lucky healthy-minded primates are what the prophets of old would call Visions.
These are generally visual and/or auditory hallucinations of the beneficial variety, as opposed to those frightening occurrences we’ve just touched on above.
For every quantum surgeon knows that God is in the details.
And when he, using his very tiny and delicate instrument, peels back another layer of the { } holding it open and looking inside, a man in Golden Valley, North Dakota, sees an angel hovering in the corner of the room.
The angel tells him (of course) to:
Be unafraid.
He asks the angel: What message shall I give them?
Just then the quantum surgeon’s hand slips and the {
} comes loose
and the angel disappears.
But not before in every corner of the earth, in every day and age and nation, heavenly dreams are dreamt, visions beheld, and epic poems written which will last beyond what we have termed…forever.
★
…all she found were Brooke’s sandals…
★
By the way, how many of you really want your head stored in ice when you can leave it and the rest of this silly world behind?
Attachment to delusion is a most dangerous thing.
Monkeys today: all they dream about is acquiring enough wealth to buy a big house and a few big cars and take big vacations on big islands and lay out on the beach and have big sleeps.
None of these monkeys have any idea about the quantum surgeons of the future terrorizing and blessing us in turn with their tiny instruments and inquisitive natures.
The head surgeon steps back.
Then, after his brow is wiped down, he clears his throat, steadies himself, and, once again, steps up to the table.
Taking a deep breath, he places the tiny instrument on the frozen { } and peels back one layer, then another, with the center in mind.
As each new layer unfolds:::
he draws closer:::
than ever:::
before.
★
MOM: Here we are on our first trip home, and Margaret is sound asleep. Doing well. There’s Daddy…
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And … there’s Amelia … Say Hi!… And here’s … Helen …
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Hmm, kinda out of focus…
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There’s Helen! Smy—uhl!
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Helen’s not—
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: )
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oh, good! And Amelia. And here’s…
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…and there’s Margaret.
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She’s such a pretty girl…
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FIRST DRAFT
(A young married couple.doc
Created Friday, April 18, 2003 4:10pm)
A young married couple from Connecticut flew to the Flathead Valley of Montana on a short vacation. They rented a cabin on the lake. The lake is the largest freshwater lake west of the Mississippi, with over 180 miles of shoreline. It was early spring, two months before the yearly summer tourist flux, and the couple got a great deal on the cabin. The husband built a fire the night they arrived, and they sat around the fire, enjoying the sounds of the waves splashing against the dock outside. They were both professionals and it was good to get away and be alone together for awhile, to not think of work or money or family. The next day they went into town and arranged for a man to take them out on the lake in his boat. It was a beautiful spring day, slightly chilly still from the mountain breezes, so they bundled up. They boarded the small, twenty foot speedboat, and the man told them about himself, and they told him about themselves, as they left the dock. Why didn’t they wear lifejackets? The next day the owner of the boat was spotted by a woman on the shore. He was clinging to the hull of the submerged boat, unconscious. The water was less than forty degrees and hypothermia had set in. He was picked up by a police boat. Then transported to the nearest hospital. The husband was found washed up on shore the next day. He had drowned. The wife, she was never found. In the cold, her body sunk below the water. She is either on the floor, or floating in the dark between the bottom of the lake and the surface. Wind and current move her. Fish swim around her. They looked for her but never found. And the tourists and the summer dwellers came and their boats made waves and moved her. The days and nights are mild. The sunsets fill the sky and turn the snowless mountains soft, pale hues, blues, pinks. She was wearing a red buttoned-up shirt with a collar, blue jeans, and tennis shoes.
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> Subject:
Call me please
> Date:
31 Aug 2006 22:00:50 gmt
> From:
Jon McIntosh
> To:
matt@ .com
>
>
> Give me a call today, please.
>
> (253) -
&nb
sp; >
> From:
“Matthew McIntosh”
> Date:
8/31/06 3:07 pm
> To:
“Jon McIntosh”
> Subj:
Re: Call me please
>
>
> what’s up?
>
>
> Subject:
RE: Call me please
> Date:
31 Aug 2006 22:37:07 gmt
> From:
Jon McIntosh
> To:
Matthew McIntosh matt@ .com>
>
>
> Dad’s not doing well
X
IN ADOLESCENCE I GREW fascinated with the darker superstitions which were playing havoc with the Pre-Millennial American Protestant Psyche.
Of everything they warned us about, so much more I wanted to learn.
For instance, during the early 1990s Satanists had landed on the shores of America and were running around slaughtering cows, dogs, cats, virgins, babies, and recording heavy metal music.
This intrigued me.
The devil was the true deceiver, they all said.
He came in a pretty package.
He often wore a suit and tie, and was handsome, well-groomed.
All that, I could take or leave.
But when the videos they showed us at youth group or the wide-margined, large-typefaced books they gave us to read (with titles like: Satanism: The Seduction of America’s Youth [List Price: $13.98]) mentioned that there were human beings on earth who had nefariously mastered the forbidden arts, such as levitation, matter transmission, and (especially) astral projection—the ability to project your quantum spirit through time and space, travel around the universe like a beam of light—or spoke of famous people who had sold their souls and had been given wealth and fame and sex partners in return—or the virtually thousands of kids who had looked into their bathroom mirrors and said, “Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary,” and when they did, long fingernail scratches appeared on their faces, and their faces began to bleed—well, at age fifteen that sort of thing got my attention.
That was finally interesting!
Much more so than my everyday non-quantum life, which I found crammed to the gills with gravity, guilt, and sorrow.
★
I thought about these evils all the time; how fantastic they were!
How simple to achieve; all one had to do was give up one’s immortal soul and fly away into the devil’s arms.
It was just so much fun to think about!
I’d think about traveling through light, moving in and out of time, leaving my body behind and exploring the universe, the entirety of which God had created, yes, but which remained, for some reason, off-limits to us Believers.
Only those under the sway of the devil, it seemed, could enjoy the fullness of God’s Universe—and while they were still alive.
I would stay here on earth, as long as I lived, and then I’d die, and when I died I would spend eternity with millions of other good people like myself, all of us kneeling before God’s throne singing and worshipping Him, while the ones who’d got to go to space while alive would burn in hell.
★
I didn’t think they deserved to burn in hell for the sin of exploration, but it wasn’t my business—I just tried not to envy them.
Nevertheless, the preoccupation with these secondhand experiences, the desire for them unsuccessfully repressed, and the battle raging in my conscience between the god I had been taught to accept and the one I wished existed, may be what led to an experience I had one afternoon.
★
I was lying on my bed, staring up at the ceiling thinking about nothing in particular, when I noticed that the window in the wall across from me, a normal window in all respects, had become a sheet of water.
Then the wall around it turned to water, too, and I felt myself being levitated from my bed, lifting up into the air, and I was turned toward the wall of water and I was given the choice whether to end whatever it was that was happening and go back,
or to proceed.
That is, I had the option to use my mind to stop all that strangeness, to snap myself out of the trance, bring the walls and window back, and find myself on the bed again, never having known where I had been invited to go, or what was out there, but safe and warm and homefree from sin.
Or I could just relax and let the waves pull me out to sea…
★
I was weak, ladies and gentlemen.
★
I shot through the window at a high rate of speed.
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{ }
★
>Dear Erin,
>
>We will be in Spokane on Saturday the 25th celebrating Margaret’s
>frist birthday. We plan to visit the cemetery, watch “Ice Age II”, and
>go to Chuck E. Cheese’s. Are you guys in?
>
>WILLIAM
>
>erin,
>
>helen. rainbow butterfly. dad. mom. toys. watermelon. amelia.
>mercury, venus, earth, mars, jupiter, saturn, uranus, neptune, pluto.
>my favorite planet is earth. I like earth because it is so pretty when I
>see it in a picture. unicorn.helen
>
>
>Don’t just search. Find. Check out the new MSN Search!
>http://search.msn.click-url.com/go/onm00200636ave/direct/01/
>
The flowers in the sanctuary today are given to the glory of God and in memory of our grandchildren, Susan and Kent , by Jean and Charlie .
★
Monday, March 12, 2007
9:18pm
I went into my dad’s room. He was asleep. The lights were off. I leaned over the bed and whispered:
“Hey.”
He opened his eyes and looked into mine. His eyes were clear for the first time in months. He said,
“What happened?”
I said,
“You got cancer. It infected your brain, and now it’s causing your body to shut down. Soon you’re going to go into a coma, and then soon after that you’ll die. Then you’ll go to heaven. But that’s all right. It’s what’s supposed to happen. Everything is taken care of here. The house, the bills—everything is taken care of, all right? So you don’t have to worry about anything. You don’t have anything left to do. Mom is taken care of. You’ve taken care of everything. Everything is fine now. There’s nothing left to do. So you can go any time you like. Whenever you want. Do you understand?”
He nodded his head and looked away. Then closed his eyes and fell back asleep.
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> Your search - “healed of glioblastoma” - did not match any documents.
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Recommend This Message | Reply to This Message
Subject: Gbm 4
Screen Name: Mhop53
Date: 5/14/2005
Msg. #: 20 of 36
I also hesitate to write to you - the news is not good, but if you are like me, you want to know what is going to happen -- a lot of that depends on the location of the tumor -- Do you know what part of the brain is affected? If so, you can look up brain function on the web and see what might happen. My mother had an inoperable tumor (very large) in her right parietal lobe. She had ca
taract surgery and then began to complain that she could not read. We thought it was because her eye needed to heal, but we were wrong. Reading was the first to go, then spatial relations. She lost her road map....didn’t know where to find things or how to get around even in familiar surroundings -- it was very subtle at first, but rapidly became worse. On the day I took her to the ER I found her at home alone and unable to find the thermostat in her condo -- she was trying to turn the heat down because she was hot. She also could not find her bathroom scale. To make matters worse, she knew she should know where they were - it terried her. When I took her to the hospital I thought that maybe she was having a stroke, but NO -- it was so much worse - the CAT scan showed a large tumor -- she was transferred to MGH in Boston where an MRI followed by a biopsy confirmed the diagnosis. Within 3 days in the hospital she was unable to find her way from the hospital bed to the bathroom, even though it was only a few feet away. She had left side body neglect (not fully aware of her left side) and was unsteady on her feet. SHe also suffered from some short time memory loss - didn’t remember day of week or what time it was, etc. Her cognitive function stayed OK and she was able to communicate with everyone and recognize everyone. Unfortunately, she was also able to fully understand that her tumor was inoperable and that she was terminal and only had at most 6 months to live. In fact, she only lived 3 weeks after diagnosis, but she turned down treatment. She did not want to go through radiation and chemo and feel sick if it was only going to buy her another 6 months if anything at all. I asked the doctor if she would die the same death with or without treatment and he said yes -- it’s just a matter of time and they can only provide estimates. We took my mother home with hospice and she was not able to get out of bed -- she had to have someone at her side constantly - she had trouble sleeping - she had neurological symptoms like cold feet, uncontrolled limb movements and the need to urinate constantly. She had to be directed and guided when she did get up to go to the bathroom and eventually she was not able to walk. She also lost the ability to recognize what she saw --
theMystery.doc Page 43
