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Research And Other Disasters

Parapsychology, like every other science, is in the business of doing research. At least as important as research, if not moreso, is publishing. . . . These folks are serious. It’s the right thing to do, of course. If they don’t take themselves seriously, who will?  . . . What follows is a parody of the type of article typically found in one of the parapsychological journals, or in any scientific journal.

Facing Fear

Footsteps. Coming from behind us, coming up on the back of the tent. They came steadily and quickly. One, then another, and a third. A twig snapped under the weight of one step. (How melodramatic, something in me thought.) Another step. They were heavy and man-like, not soft and meditated like those of a cat. Human steps. Stopping almost right on top of us.

On The Astral Plane To Puerto Rico

I, Arthur Milstein, have had a shitty life. I have found difficulty finding gainful employment. I most recently had a position carving names on gravestones, but I was dismissed owing to poor spelling. I usually spell well but not under intense pressure.

Waking Up . . . Or Am I Only Dreaming?

Most of what we call reality falls into a range between the trivial and the transcendent. At one end are the details of waking life. At the other end is what really counts.

On Specialness (And Guidance Of All Kinds)

When my perceptions truly coincide with what’s happening, it’s because I’m willing to lose myself in the other person or experience. It’s feelings of specialness I have about myself that keep me from doing that.

Psychic Readings: Facing An Empty Canvas

Why does someone call himself a psychic and begin charging for his services? The motivation is surely as complex as in seeking a psychic’s help. Perhaps it will one day seem no more unusual to go for a reading than for a physical exam at a doctor’s office; but as there are good and bad doctors, there are psychics of every description.

A Course In Miracles

What would it be like if miracles were ordinary, while what was unusual was pain, sickness, heartbreak, anxiety, misfortune, and death? It wouldn’t be Earth, that’s for sure. Or would it?

Last Minute Musings

In the space of the four years following this small event, my consciousness has been assaulting itself with pointed questions who’ve led me into vast, unknown, and sometimes positively obliterating stretches of mind.

On Death And Not Dying

A Meeting With Elisabeth Kübler-Ross

The word was in my mind all day. Pivotal. Not my favorite word, or one I often use. Everything seemed pivotal. The hour, the fuel gauge, an oldie on the radio, a yawn, the confusing streets of High Point.

Seventh Heaven

Every time Arthur Wazu got sexually excited his ear lobes turned lavender. This had just happened in the central power station, so he roller-skated back to his captain’s quarters to rest.