A palm reader once told me I’d make it big, but by then it would be so late it wouldn’t matter. Well, it’s late, and it matters! I wonder if she meant “really too late,” - you know, “like crossed-over?” In that case I should make a will leaving all my unsold scripts and music to the needy. —But wait. I’m the needy-! What’s up here?
“How can this be,” I’m thinking, “working my ass of all these years, seven days a week most of the time. My last vacation was in 1981.”
Still I shouldn’t complain. Whatever else life has been, no one can say it hasn’t been interesting. Sometimes I look back at the things I did, and it seems like someone else.
So I’m coming out of a closet just to rattle awhile. The truth is, good or bad, it’s pretty much a consequence of what I was born into but don’t talk about much, (well, to you, of course) the so-called gift (or curse) of psychic dreams. It happens a lot. My brother, mother and father all had similar experiences. It was just our everyday way of life. Yet oddly enough it wasn’t until mid-life that I ever heard of the ancient Birth Cards. That in itself is a story for later. Mine happens the be the 8 of Clubs, a psychic power card, and by the way, under Neptune, ... the Ruler of Dreams. So, even if you never believed in those things, what does one make of that?
But back to today: I recently received notice that my Writers Guild pension money has reverted to “death benefits.” What?? - Yep, they said. You had plenty of credits, but you kept running off and doing weird things. So you interrupted the requirement of five consecutive years. Sorry. - So much for sympathy!
It was true, but I couldn’t talk them out of it. A bud of mine and I did go on a 2-man crusade to rescue the endangered animals of Belize back in the late ‘80s.
I raised some of the funds for it on TV with the sale of calendars and posters of my California Spangled Cats, which Neiman Marcus had earlier introduced to the public as their “His & Hers gift of the Year” for Christmas 1986. (You are younger than I am, as you’ve already guessed).
We didn’t know until a special agent of the Wildlife Service called and told me that the man I was describing sounded like the biggest case on their books. And if he was (not to say his name), the D.E.A. considered him the most dangerous man in the Yucatan.
Well, it was the same guy, whom we found out a bit late, after we were already in his face with no backup, — (there’s no extradition from Belize, hence no U.S. friendly fire) — that he was the Drug Lord of Orange Walk, chum of Noriega and wanted for murder in several neighboring countries. In fact, he machine-gunned to death twelve of his marijuana growers in the jungle back of the lagoon while we were there. He was not a native but an immigrant from the Middle-East, who bought his citizenship for something like twelve hundred dollars. I guess it ran in the family, because his father was already in prison for burning down the I.R.S.
He was trapping, tranquillizing and storing in little iron cages the magnificent jaguars, ocelots and margay cats, then arranging for canned-hunts at $10,000 per person. The foreign hunters didn’t know that, of course. So after they had tramped around in the mucky jungle awhile, he would send someone back for the cat, to hose it down, sedate it and turn it loose nearby where they could walk up right up and kill it. Before we even arrived he had already decimated fifty percent of the nation’s jaguar population.
It was a crazy twisted tale involving Mennonites, a voodoo and water buffalo. I wrote a screenplay about it. It took two and a half years to finally get him out of business. But it was all done legally through the courts.
That was just one of the many interruptions in my consecutive years with the Guild. Shortly after that, while I was living in Carole Lombard’s old house on Hollywood Boulevard, I began developing a family of high intensity beam-producing solar-power lenses. That came to a bizarre and twisted finale that I never would have imagined. Everyone was clamoring about the deteriorating state of the environment and urgent need for clean energy. So, here was something truly competitive with fossil fuels and no polluting by-products. Everybody’s going to jump on the bandwagon, right? Wrong.
I should have learned my lesson back in 1976, when I did a commercial with Lee Remick for ARCO’s Tricentennial, promoting a process for running electrical generators on the rotation of the earth. (It’s not that complicated). But as soon as the oil company figured it had sufficiently improved its public image, it warehoused the whole thing. And as we know, business went on as usual. — Anyway, about the power lenses,-
Everyone at Laser Power Optics in San Diego seemed excited about it. They cut precision lenses on a high-tech diamond-turning machine. And at the time there were only two such machines in the States, one on each coast.
The engineer with whom I was dealing said it was the most powerful lens that had ever come through the company. In fact, by that time people all over, even as far away as Hawaii, had begun calling it “The Lost Power Crystal of Atlantis.” It converted ordinary sunlight into a projectable beam that could attain temperatures approaching that of the sun itself.
Our extended plans included a whole array of alternative-energy applications, such as powering steam-turban generators, distilling seawater into fresh water, sterilizing medical equipment without chemicals, remote lighting for office and living spaces, the breakdown and disposal of toxic wastes, home security devices, —a long string of things. It was exciting and we often worked all through the night.
The first order of business was to grow the specific lens medium, which was zinc selenide. It had to have perfect crystalline alignment without any flaws. I paid the whole thing up front and waited. And waited. And waited, trying to be gentlemanly. But after ten months I phoned to see how things were progressing.
Suddenly it wasn’t the engineer I had been working with but a PR person who was assigned as my new contact. In an awkward way he told me that there had been some delay and they hadn’t yet started growing the lens material. (??) It was a vague conversation to say the least, with no satisfactory answers.
“I’m coming down to talk to them in person,” I told him. And suddenly he went stiff.
“No, don’t do that,” he insisted. “It will take time to get everyone together.”
“What’s to get-together?” I asked. “I know everyone there.”
“We’ll call you and let you know,” he said. And that’s the way it was left.
Long story short, about two weeks later the meeting was set, and at the last moment I decided to ask two friends to go with me. Good thing. Waiting for us were fourteen strangers at the conference table, all NASA, military and government people. Some wouldn’t even give their names. They refused to sign any nondisclosure document, and the REAL REASON was: They didn't want me to make the lenses. It was totally surreal, like one of those fiction spy-novels that you never believe is true.
First they argued that it wouldn’t work, and they didn’t want me to waste my money. (Too bad, I already had a working model). Anyway, how did they know about it in the first place? And what the hell did the government care if I wasted my own money? It was written on their faces, -duh.
Of course, the government is LPO’s biggest client. (Now we’re getting somewhere). They make lenses for the “smart bombs” —among other things.
We discussed it at the blackboard for over an hour, wavelengths of the solar spectrum that most penetrate the atmosphere, etc., after which the man from NASA said they would like to work with me on its development.
I said I’d think about it. But I didn’t need to think about it. Who in his right mind is going to crawl into bed with a bunch of black suits who won’t tell you their names? Besides, I used to build magic illusions for Mark Wilson. Now you see it, now you don’t.
Bottom line: they took it. It’s in the law. If your invention is deemed of security interest to the U.S. government, they can prevent you from making it and use it without any reimbursement or royalties. Jet Propulsion Laboratory now has a whole separate division for beam-producing lenses.
For having a good idea, they just snatched away three years of my savings and eliminated any possible income from all that work. It’s the American Way, I guess. Who knew? The irony is that, as I sit here being “poor,” the descendents of my invention are up there in space protecting life on earth from annihilation by diverting asteroids and comets from a collision course. In light of that, it may be a happy trade-off afterall. Or not.
Even General Atomics subsequently called me into a meeting with their team of top engineers to discuss the military use of the lenses in one of their secret projects. At the end of the meeting they asked to keep my drawings. Well why not, once they’d seen ‘em?
Of course, if you are like me, you don’t have sense enough to give up. You just forge on ahead with something else. I figured that no one would bother me if I turned to something as innocuous as the wind. After all, we already have those unsightly forests of windmills all over the California desert, half of them standing still as a corpse. That’s where my design was entirely different. It would continue running at full operation, even when there was no wind at all. So I began developing (patents pending) a five-story facility called The Wind Bank, because “it stores the wind.” It contains a giant force-wheel that can desalinate sea water at a thousand gallons a minute and remove heavy metals and bacteria from polluted water. At the same time it generates electrical power.
While that was going on, just for my heart I started submitting some old essays on a subject that has obsessed me since childhood. Here’s one I thought would infuriate the scientific community and they would certainly come kill me. But for some reason they seemed to think it was important and gave me an award instead, for Contributions to Science. I’ll try it on you:
a. The universe does not contain everything that exists.
b. It was called into being for a reason. It has a task and a purpose. It is a time/space tool.
c. Gravity is not a force of attraction between bodies; it is the reduction of space, inversely with the lengthening of its co-function, time.
d. Black holes are not the sites of tremendous gravitational forces. They are the opposite, the condition where all forces are disappearing.
e. The universe will neither continue expanding nor collapse back upon itself; it will simply shut down. It is happening already.
f. The end product of the universe is equilibrium, the preexisting nonphysical state that triggered its prescribed operation in the beginning.
Physics, as it is practiced today, is scientific superstition. Born of the same human intrigues that drove the old explorers, modern astrophysicists are today tantalized by the volume of new data made available with the Spitzer telescope, producing more and more detail about what things are and how they work. But what is the Achilles’ heel in this picture? Science believes itself because the math seems to work. It is the old I.Q. test again. It seemed to work, but it didn’t measure what we thought we were measuring. Like the magician’s disappearing act, the illusion only works over a limited angle of vision. What is being missed is the fundamental question of why all this marvel exists in the first place.
What is the most obvious phenomenon we see when we look out across the galaxy, across the universe? Forces at work. But forces only occur where things are out of balance. We learned that as children, when the big guy got off the other end of the teeter-totter.
What does this tell us? The universe is in a condition of imbalance. We even encode its behavior into the so-called Laws of Conservation, that “everything tends toward equilibrium.” In other words, everything the universe is doing prescribes its ultimate goal to be equilibrium.
Therein lies the challenge for future physics. It is the angle of vision beyond the magician’s trick. With equilibrium comes the cessation of all action, even within the tiniest of subnuclear particles. In the absence of action, the measuring sticks of time and space no longer apply. Mass itself loses all identity. We know this. And it should mean something to us beyond its simple acceptance. It should ring a very loud bell.
Our new generations raised on cyber-space games will have no trouble getting the implication. The universe engages our physical senses, even our interaction, but like the cyber-space games, it only contains the information it is programmed to conclude. In operation, it is not unlike a computer maintenance program, “Defrag” or “Norton Utilities,” evoked to stabilize the integrity of a more fundamental order.
And what is that order? Traditional physics has it upside down. Principles of order and consequences are the prerequisite even for a simple chemical reaction, yet they are not part of the mass/energy performance. They represent a superior state of discipline, which is not dependent upon temporary phenomena.
The universe had a beginning and will have an end, which automatically places it in the slave position. A reconciliation of these priorities is important for our theoretical frontiers to move forward.
An essential part of any self-governing system is its stabilizing safeguards. The reason the universe looks as if it was created in a Big Bang, is that it arrived as a full program, booted-up to preserve the stability of the equilibrium. It is a necessary feature of the primordial (nonmaterial) system.
Envisioning the universe as a time/space tool, gravity now becomes the dynamic balancing of these two components. Simply, as time expands, space is reduced correspondingly. What we mistakenly perceive as a law of attraction between bodies is actually the disappearance of space between the bodies. One might say that particles eat space. It looks the same and acts the same, but the implications are vastly different. It means that gravity is not a force in the sense that we now regard it.
This is further observed in the apparent time/space warp that Einstein believed he detected around large bodies like the earth. We should expect it. The difference is that the internal space of a large mass has already been vastly reduced in comparison to the open space around it. The amount of space being consumed is the same, but consumed in a different pattern.
We need to coin a new concept of "non-space" to understand this. Non-space is in fact the hypothetical worm hole, unfortunately named, since it conjures the image of a tunnel, when it is more accurately like three-dimensional lace permeating all of the perceivable universe. Space is still part of the mass/energy world, where non-space belongs to the Grand Equilibrium. Not everything that looks empty is space, and as the universe winds-down, more and more of it will become non-space.
A computer displays the processing of data only as long as it is performing the task. Traditional physics describes black holes as sites of tremendous gravitational forces sucking everything around them into virtual oblivion. But set aside our presumptions for a moment and contemplate what we are actually observing. The fact that all mass appears to become compressed and even light unable to escape does not mean that tremendous forces are acting upon them. How can we say this? Because if the forces are disappearing that allow us to see them, it would appear exactly the same to human technology.
Black holes are sites of conversion to zero, where the process is ending. Nothing is going anywhere. Regions of data are simply being restored to their native nonmaterial address and out of our optical range. In the body language of its own behavior, the goal of the universe is to put itself out of business. But no law says that it has to happen everywhere all at once. It is already full of holes. As a maintenance program, it will neither expand forever nor collapse back upon itself. Where each task is completed, it will shut down. We see it happening already.
In short, advanced physics of this new century will look startlingly like the visions of the ancient prophets. The challenge for our next generation of physicists will be to re-train our parameters. By its own hard evidence, science must inevitably shift its definitions of existence into the terms of equilibrium, in other words, the realm of spirit.
Everything that exists is ultimately part of the same grand picture, and without warning a handful of those missing puzzle pieces invaded my life one night. The intense six days that followed altered everything I thought I knew immediately and forever, - things one does not mention to his egghead, scientist and engineer colleagues.
For decades the circle of witnesses who were there at the time have been prodding me to make public that extraordinary series of events, which came unexpectedly and uninvited in May of 1974. So last year I wrote the book, telling it exactly as it happened and without the burden of pretending to explain it. It is called: “OPEN THE COFFIN - a true story of the supernatural.” —Don’t let the picture fool you. It’s thirty years old, too, in keeping with the event.
IT BEGINS:
Princess Juana, Archduchess of Austria, age 19
The DREAM
First in a dream, then into my office came a centuries old ghost... She was Juana of Trastamara, Archduchess of Austria, Queen of Castile, Queen of Aragon, Sicily, Sardinia, Naples, Mexico and Peru, and “all the lands to the west of Africa,” - Juana la loca, the mad queen of half the world.
Then the PHONE MESSAGE FROM THE PSYCHIC:
“What the hell’s going on over there? I’ve had this image on my mind all morning, so strong I can’t get rid of it. It’s a woman all in black pacing back and forth in your office and tapping on your desk with a fan..”
The CAT DISAPPEARS:
“Katangi?”
She was gone. Only minutes of searching finally found her bristling with adrenaline in a box beneath the work table. She pressed back with a warning growl as I tried to coax her out, which brought on the icy feeling that she was reacting to something behind me. It was no imagination. The cat knew it. Tracy knew it. I knew it. Something alien was present in my office.
Juana, the legend
Legend claims that she wandered all over Spain with the rotting corpse of her husband, Philip the handsome, and opened the coffin at midnight to make love to the bones.
Declared insane by her adversaries, Juana was imprisoned for years in a Room Without Light on the remote plains of central Spain.
The Room Without Light, scene from the play
“How can this be,” I’m thinking, “working my ass of all these years, seven days a week most of the time. My last vacation was in 1981.”
Still I shouldn’t complain. Whatever else life has been, no one can say it hasn’t been interesting. Sometimes I look back at the things I did, and it seems like someone else.
So I’m coming out of a closet just to rattle awhile. The truth is, good or bad, it’s pretty much a consequence of what I was born into but don’t talk about much, (well, to you, of course) the so-called gift (or curse) of psychic dreams. It happens a lot. My brother, mother and father all had similar experiences. It was just our everyday way of life. Yet oddly enough it wasn’t until mid-life that I ever heard of the ancient Birth Cards. That in itself is a story for later. Mine happens the be the 8 of Clubs, a psychic power card, and by the way, under Neptune, ... the Ruler of Dreams. So, even if you never believed in those things, what does one make of that?
But back to today: I recently received notice that my Writers Guild pension money has reverted to “death benefits.” What?? - Yep, they said. You had plenty of credits, but you kept running off and doing weird things. So you interrupted the requirement of five consecutive years. Sorry. - So much for sympathy!
It was true, but I couldn’t talk them out of it. A bud of mine and I did go on a 2-man crusade to rescue the endangered animals of Belize back in the late ‘80s.
I raised some of the funds for it on TV with the sale of calendars and posters of my California Spangled Cats, which Neiman Marcus had earlier introduced to the public as their “His & Hers gift of the Year” for Christmas 1986. (You are younger than I am, as you’ve already guessed).
The California Spangled Cats
We didn’t know until a special agent of the Wildlife Service called and told me that the man I was describing sounded like the biggest case on their books. And if he was (not to say his name), the D.E.A. considered him the most dangerous man in the Yucatan.
Well, it was the same guy, whom we found out a bit late, after we were already in his face with no backup, — (there’s no extradition from Belize, hence no U.S. friendly fire) — that he was the Drug Lord of Orange Walk, chum of Noriega and wanted for murder in several neighboring countries. In fact, he machine-gunned to death twelve of his marijuana growers in the jungle back of the lagoon while we were there. He was not a native but an immigrant from the Middle-East, who bought his citizenship for something like twelve hundred dollars. I guess it ran in the family, because his father was already in prison for burning down the I.R.S.
He was trapping, tranquillizing and storing in little iron cages the magnificent jaguars, ocelots and margay cats, then arranging for canned-hunts at $10,000 per person. The foreign hunters didn’t know that, of course. So after they had tramped around in the mucky jungle awhile, he would send someone back for the cat, to hose it down, sedate it and turn it loose nearby where they could walk up right up and kill it. Before we even arrived he had already decimated fifty percent of the nation’s jaguar population.
It was a crazy twisted tale involving Mennonites, a voodoo and water buffalo. I wrote a screenplay about it. It took two and a half years to finally get him out of business. But it was all done legally through the courts.
That was just one of the many interruptions in my consecutive years with the Guild. Shortly after that, while I was living in Carole Lombard’s old house on Hollywood Boulevard, I began developing a family of high intensity beam-producing solar-power lenses. That came to a bizarre and twisted finale that I never would have imagined. Everyone was clamoring about the deteriorating state of the environment and urgent need for clean energy. So, here was something truly competitive with fossil fuels and no polluting by-products. Everybody’s going to jump on the bandwagon, right? Wrong.
I should have learned my lesson back in 1976, when I did a commercial with Lee Remick for ARCO’s Tricentennial, promoting a process for running electrical generators on the rotation of the earth. (It’s not that complicated). But as soon as the oil company figured it had sufficiently improved its public image, it warehoused the whole thing. And as we know, business went on as usual. — Anyway, about the power lenses,-
Everyone at Laser Power Optics in San Diego seemed excited about it. They cut precision lenses on a high-tech diamond-turning machine. And at the time there were only two such machines in the States, one on each coast.
The engineer with whom I was dealing said it was the most powerful lens that had ever come through the company. In fact, by that time people all over, even as far away as Hawaii, had begun calling it “The Lost Power Crystal of Atlantis.” It converted ordinary sunlight into a projectable beam that could attain temperatures approaching that of the sun itself.
Our extended plans included a whole array of alternative-energy applications, such as powering steam-turban generators, distilling seawater into fresh water, sterilizing medical equipment without chemicals, remote lighting for office and living spaces, the breakdown and disposal of toxic wastes, home security devices, —a long string of things. It was exciting and we often worked all through the night.
The first order of business was to grow the specific lens medium, which was zinc selenide. It had to have perfect crystalline alignment without any flaws. I paid the whole thing up front and waited. And waited. And waited, trying to be gentlemanly. But after ten months I phoned to see how things were progressing.
Suddenly it wasn’t the engineer I had been working with but a PR person who was assigned as my new contact. In an awkward way he told me that there had been some delay and they hadn’t yet started growing the lens material. (??) It was a vague conversation to say the least, with no satisfactory answers.
“I’m coming down to talk to them in person,” I told him. And suddenly he went stiff.
“No, don’t do that,” he insisted. “It will take time to get everyone together.”
“What’s to get-together?” I asked. “I know everyone there.”
“We’ll call you and let you know,” he said. And that’s the way it was left.
Long story short, about two weeks later the meeting was set, and at the last moment I decided to ask two friends to go with me. Good thing. Waiting for us were fourteen strangers at the conference table, all NASA, military and government people. Some wouldn’t even give their names. They refused to sign any nondisclosure document, and the REAL REASON was: They didn't want me to make the lenses. It was totally surreal, like one of those fiction spy-novels that you never believe is true.
First they argued that it wouldn’t work, and they didn’t want me to waste my money. (Too bad, I already had a working model). Anyway, how did they know about it in the first place? And what the hell did the government care if I wasted my own money? It was written on their faces, -duh.
Of course, the government is LPO’s biggest client. (Now we’re getting somewhere). They make lenses for the “smart bombs” —among other things.
We discussed it at the blackboard for over an hour, wavelengths of the solar spectrum that most penetrate the atmosphere, etc., after which the man from NASA said they would like to work with me on its development.
I said I’d think about it. But I didn’t need to think about it. Who in his right mind is going to crawl into bed with a bunch of black suits who won’t tell you their names? Besides, I used to build magic illusions for Mark Wilson. Now you see it, now you don’t.
Bottom line: they took it. It’s in the law. If your invention is deemed of security interest to the U.S. government, they can prevent you from making it and use it without any reimbursement or royalties. Jet Propulsion Laboratory now has a whole separate division for beam-producing lenses.
For having a good idea, they just snatched away three years of my savings and eliminated any possible income from all that work. It’s the American Way, I guess. Who knew? The irony is that, as I sit here being “poor,” the descendents of my invention are up there in space protecting life on earth from annihilation by diverting asteroids and comets from a collision course. In light of that, it may be a happy trade-off afterall. Or not.
Even General Atomics subsequently called me into a meeting with their team of top engineers to discuss the military use of the lenses in one of their secret projects. At the end of the meeting they asked to keep my drawings. Well why not, once they’d seen ‘em?
Of course, if you are like me, you don’t have sense enough to give up. You just forge on ahead with something else. I figured that no one would bother me if I turned to something as innocuous as the wind. After all, we already have those unsightly forests of windmills all over the California desert, half of them standing still as a corpse. That’s where my design was entirely different. It would continue running at full operation, even when there was no wind at all. So I began developing (patents pending) a five-story facility called The Wind Bank, because “it stores the wind.” It contains a giant force-wheel that can desalinate sea water at a thousand gallons a minute and remove heavy metals and bacteria from polluted water. At the same time it generates electrical power.
While that was going on, just for my heart I started submitting some old essays on a subject that has obsessed me since childhood. Here’s one I thought would infuriate the scientific community and they would certainly come kill me. But for some reason they seemed to think it was important and gave me an award instead, for Contributions to Science. I’ll try it on you:
NEW CENTURY PHYSICS - A RETURN TO THE PROPHETS?
Dissertation in 900 words
Dissertation in 900 words
The answers to fundamental questions are not in the details of how
things happen, but in the summation, the consequences of behavior.
SUPPOSE YOU WERE TOLD:things happen, but in the summation, the consequences of behavior.
a. The universe does not contain everything that exists.
b. It was called into being for a reason. It has a task and a purpose. It is a time/space tool.
c. Gravity is not a force of attraction between bodies; it is the reduction of space, inversely with the lengthening of its co-function, time.
d. Black holes are not the sites of tremendous gravitational forces. They are the opposite, the condition where all forces are disappearing.
e. The universe will neither continue expanding nor collapse back upon itself; it will simply shut down. It is happening already.
f. The end product of the universe is equilibrium, the preexisting nonphysical state that triggered its prescribed operation in the beginning.
DON’T BELIEVE IT?
What is the most obvious phenomenon we see when we look out across the galaxy, across the universe? Forces at work. But forces only occur where things are out of balance. We learned that as children, when the big guy got off the other end of the teeter-totter.
What does this tell us? The universe is in a condition of imbalance. We even encode its behavior into the so-called Laws of Conservation, that “everything tends toward equilibrium.” In other words, everything the universe is doing prescribes its ultimate goal to be equilibrium.
Therein lies the challenge for future physics. It is the angle of vision beyond the magician’s trick. With equilibrium comes the cessation of all action, even within the tiniest of subnuclear particles. In the absence of action, the measuring sticks of time and space no longer apply. Mass itself loses all identity. We know this. And it should mean something to us beyond its simple acceptance. It should ring a very loud bell.
Our new generations raised on cyber-space games will have no trouble getting the implication. The universe engages our physical senses, even our interaction, but like the cyber-space games, it only contains the information it is programmed to conclude. In operation, it is not unlike a computer maintenance program, “Defrag” or “Norton Utilities,” evoked to stabilize the integrity of a more fundamental order.
And what is that order? Traditional physics has it upside down. Principles of order and consequences are the prerequisite even for a simple chemical reaction, yet they are not part of the mass/energy performance. They represent a superior state of discipline, which is not dependent upon temporary phenomena.
The universe had a beginning and will have an end, which automatically places it in the slave position. A reconciliation of these priorities is important for our theoretical frontiers to move forward.
An essential part of any self-governing system is its stabilizing safeguards. The reason the universe looks as if it was created in a Big Bang, is that it arrived as a full program, booted-up to preserve the stability of the equilibrium. It is a necessary feature of the primordial (nonmaterial) system.
Envisioning the universe as a time/space tool, gravity now becomes the dynamic balancing of these two components. Simply, as time expands, space is reduced correspondingly. What we mistakenly perceive as a law of attraction between bodies is actually the disappearance of space between the bodies. One might say that particles eat space. It looks the same and acts the same, but the implications are vastly different. It means that gravity is not a force in the sense that we now regard it.
This is further observed in the apparent time/space warp that Einstein believed he detected around large bodies like the earth. We should expect it. The difference is that the internal space of a large mass has already been vastly reduced in comparison to the open space around it. The amount of space being consumed is the same, but consumed in a different pattern.
We need to coin a new concept of "non-space" to understand this. Non-space is in fact the hypothetical worm hole, unfortunately named, since it conjures the image of a tunnel, when it is more accurately like three-dimensional lace permeating all of the perceivable universe. Space is still part of the mass/energy world, where non-space belongs to the Grand Equilibrium. Not everything that looks empty is space, and as the universe winds-down, more and more of it will become non-space.
A computer displays the processing of data only as long as it is performing the task. Traditional physics describes black holes as sites of tremendous gravitational forces sucking everything around them into virtual oblivion. But set aside our presumptions for a moment and contemplate what we are actually observing. The fact that all mass appears to become compressed and even light unable to escape does not mean that tremendous forces are acting upon them. How can we say this? Because if the forces are disappearing that allow us to see them, it would appear exactly the same to human technology.
Black holes are sites of conversion to zero, where the process is ending. Nothing is going anywhere. Regions of data are simply being restored to their native nonmaterial address and out of our optical range. In the body language of its own behavior, the goal of the universe is to put itself out of business. But no law says that it has to happen everywhere all at once. It is already full of holes. As a maintenance program, it will neither expand forever nor collapse back upon itself. Where each task is completed, it will shut down. We see it happening already.
In short, advanced physics of this new century will look startlingly like the visions of the ancient prophets. The challenge for our next generation of physicists will be to re-train our parameters. By its own hard evidence, science must inevitably shift its definitions of existence into the terms of equilibrium, in other words, the realm of spirit.
© TXu 1-045-787
Everything that exists is ultimately part of the same grand picture, and without warning a handful of those missing puzzle pieces invaded my life one night. The intense six days that followed altered everything I thought I knew immediately and forever, - things one does not mention to his egghead, scientist and engineer colleagues.
LIFE IN THE PSYCHIC LANE
a long series of unplanned events
a long series of unplanned events
For decades the circle of witnesses who were there at the time have been prodding me to make public that extraordinary series of events, which came unexpectedly and uninvited in May of 1974. So last year I wrote the book, telling it exactly as it happened and without the burden of pretending to explain it. It is called: “OPEN THE COFFIN - a true story of the supernatural.” —Don’t let the picture fool you. It’s thirty years old, too, in keeping with the event.
IT BEGINS:
Princess Juana, Archduchess of Austria, age 19The DREAM
First in a dream, then into my office came a centuries old ghost... She was Juana of Trastamara, Archduchess of Austria, Queen of Castile, Queen of Aragon, Sicily, Sardinia, Naples, Mexico and Peru, and “all the lands to the west of Africa,” - Juana la loca, the mad queen of half the world.
Then the PHONE MESSAGE FROM THE PSYCHIC:
“What the hell’s going on over there? I’ve had this image on my mind all morning, so strong I can’t get rid of it. It’s a woman all in black pacing back and forth in your office and tapping on your desk with a fan..”
The CAT DISAPPEARS:
“Katangi?”
She was gone. Only minutes of searching finally found her bristling with adrenaline in a box beneath the work table. She pressed back with a warning growl as I tried to coax her out, which brought on the icy feeling that she was reacting to something behind me. It was no imagination. The cat knew it. Tracy knew it. I knew it. Something alien was present in my office.
Juana, the legendDeclared insane by her adversaries, Juana was imprisoned for years in a Room Without Light on the remote plains of central Spain.
The Room Without Light, scene from the playWhen briefly liberated by an uprising of the common people who loved her, she attempted to establish a demoncratic government that would have spanned the globe from pole to pole. But she was too far ahead of her time and was imprisoned again for the rest of her life. “They stole half the world and got away with it.”
It’s just a short book, 130 pages, but if you’d like to take a look at it, it’s out now on Amazon - books - Open the Coffin - Paul Casey
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It’s just a short book, 130 pages, but if you’d like to take a look at it, it’s out now on Amazon - books - Open the Coffin - Paul Casey
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posted by 8 of Clubs at 3:07 PM
