Trump: the Ultimate Dystopian Novel

Posted on May 5, 2017 by Trish and Rob

Forget The Hunger Games, 1984, and It Can’t Happen Here. Trump is the ultimate Dystopian novel.

In this Dystopian world,  if you’re a fetus, they love you and protect you until you’re born. Then, hey, you’re on your own. If you, like Jimmy Kimmel’s son, are born with heart disease and your parents don’t have the money to pay for multiple heart surgeries, then sorry, too bad. You die.

And as of May 4, when the repubs passed their alternative to the Affordable Care Act  by a narrow margin, you are screwed if you have a pre-existing condition, are on Medicaid, are old or on disability. The people who benefit from this bill are the rich, who are getting  billions in tax cuts while Medicaid is being gutted. The old, the sick, and the poor are the ones targeted in this bill. This is, as one health policy expert said, one of the largest redistributions of wealth ever.

If that fetus the republicans love and protect until it’s born grows up poor, oh well, too bad. No Medicaid or food stamps for you. If you manage to work your way through life so that you finally get to college, well, too bad. You’re going to incur a staggering debt that in many instances amounts to the cost of a home.

If you’re born black or Latino or into some other minority, the deck in the land of the free is already stacked against you. The repubs only see white male faces.

If you are gay or transgender, the republicans want you to disappear, vanish, to have zero rights ever.

If you’re a woman, they want to control your body by stacking their administration with anti-abortion white men who despise Roe v Wade. They want to deny you contraception and just to prove how serious they are about this, the current administration has nominated a woman to lead family services who believes that contraception doesn’t work and that abortion leads to breast cancer. Meet Teresa Manning, a former lobbyist for the National Right to Life Committee who is expected to be appointed to oversee the nation’s family planning program at HHS.

They would love to overturn public education and privatize Medicare and Social Security. They want corporations to rule the world, as though government is a business. Sounds a bit like Blade Runner, doesn’t it?

The head of this disaster, trumpie himself, thinks putin is a strong leader and that the little madman running North Korea is a guy he might like to sit down with for a friendly chat. Some in the media see trumpie’s bombing of a Syrian airstrip as a sign that he’s presidential. Really?

And oh, about that wall. Sorry, folks. Mexico isn’t going to pay for it. You taxpayers are – not you rich folks, not the corporations, but you poor and middle class folks. And yeah, he’s been trying to bar immigrants since his first 10 days in office and has been blocked by the federal courts.

The truth is ugly. The dude in charge of the U.S. has come through his first 100 days, is working on the second 100 days, and has already proven himself to be a clueless narcissist and egomaniac, who is constantly crying out, Notice me, see how great I am, just watch how I will make America great again. Uh-huh. By wrecking the country, destroying democracy, enriching his family, and installing extremists.

Welcome to Trump World, the ultimate Dystopian novel.

But in the sequel, my hope is that the people fight back and reclaim their country.

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Mercury Turns Direct!

Posted on May 3, 2017 by Trish and Rob

On April 9, I posted something about the Mercury retrograde that began that day and lasts until today, May 3, at 12:33 p.m. EDT.  One of the comments was from Lauren Raine, an artist who lives in Tucson. It really characterizes the nature of these retrogrades, whose effects can be felt several days before the retro begins, when Mercury slows down to turn. I told Lauren that it sounded as if she had gotten Merc retro all in one day!

“ I don’t normally notice these things, but yesterday:

I found out I have to pay 3 times what I thought in taxes and had to redo my taxes

I found out I have to spend lots of money on an air conditioner

The modem went out

My monthly arts list was discontinued because the creator is ill

And then a loud buzzing brought me to my newly renovated guest cottage, with its lovely new wooden floor. It seems a hive of bees have made a home for themselves under that floor, and the only way to get them out, according to beekeepers, is to cut a hole in the floor.

Oh, and in Arizona most of our bees are Africanized bees. Mean bees.”

Here are some other Mercury retrograde incidents:

Our daughter, Megan, teaches art for Paint Nite several night a week. During the retro, one of her classes was relocated outside the restaurant where she was supposed to teach because the manager had mistakenly booked a party in the room where she teaches the class. The class was good-natured about it – even after it started to rain!

Snafus for us included things like important emails going straight to trash and not being discovered for days; missed appointments; a clock in the car that hadn’t been changed to reflect daylight savings time, which resulted in being late for several events. We also had to re-schedule several radio interviews for Sensing the Future, our book on precognition – and no, we didn’t sense the future on those changes!

These Mercury retro periods happen three times a year. The next one won’t be until August 13, when Mercury turns retrograde in the early degrees of Virgo, slides back into Leo, and turns direct in that sign on September 5.

 

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WATER DANCERS

Posted on May 1, 2017 by Trish and Rob

I love it when synchronicities happen that confirm something I sense or am in the process of doing. This one is simple but direct.

Several months ago, I woke from a dream about aliens and thought, Wow, this would make a cool novel. I didn’t remember much of anything about the dream, so I just started writing and called the folder HER. The title sucked, I knew that, and our daughter confirmed there was a movie called HER, so I knew the title would change at some point.

The premise is simple. After dozens of people on Tango Key sight a UFO plunging into the Gulf of Mexico,  the elderly custodian of the Tango Key lighthouse finds an alien body on the side of the cliff where the lighthouse sits. The alien appears to be dead and the custodian and his friend, who works for a private UFO research group, stow the body in a floor freezer. They hire a psychic who once worked for this organization to read the body and glean whatever information she can.

She picks up that the alien was amphibious and as she reads it, her feet and hands become webbed, just like the hands and feet of the alien. The story takes off from there.

There were things in this story – like the amphibious stuff – that bewildered me. But since it had appeared, I kept it. Intuitive storytelling or something. Two hundred pages in, I realized the amphibious elements were the story and started casting around for the right title. Water Dancers felt right. But because these aliens are NOT nice guys like Spielberg’s ET, I thought the title might be too poetic or something. So I texted my Colombian friend Leiny about the title,

What do you think about this title for a novel about aliens? A random question. Her response was my confirmation.

Leiny and her family are preparing to move to Minnesota, where her husband is from. Here’s what she said:

The place I am going to live is named Dancing waters. The community name is Dancing Waters, in Woodbury, Minnesota.

 “Hey, Rob,” I called out when I saw this message. “What do you think of this?”

“You got you confirmation,” he said. “That’s your title,” he said. “Water Dancers.”

Thanks, Leiny!!

 

 

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Out of the Fog

Posted on April 29, 2017 by Trish and Rob

We recently received this story from a man in rural Ohio named John D who was reading Aliens in the Backyard. He said some of the stories resonated with his own experience. So he contacted us.

“Just reading the book, wow! So many people in the book I can identify with. I’m currently looking for answers, though I keep coming up short. Every time I think I find a hypnotherapist that can help, something happens, and they either lose interest, or some other strange happened to keep me from going.”

We’ve exchanged several e-mails with John and here is his story. It involves fog, missing time, blocked memories and finally some revelations.

+ + +

I, along with my brother, were taken some 23-24 years ago. We were driving in the middle of the night, going to a nearby city, just leaving some friends who lived in the country. It got insanely foggy out, so it took us much longer time to get to the city than normal. We started to see the city lights through the fog, as we reached the city limits.

However,  the next thing we knew, we were sitting at a stop sign out in the countryside again. We were both completely disoriented and confused. We started driving, but only once questioning what the hell had happened. We soon found that we were only minutes away from our friends’ house. There where hours missing. The real strange thing about that experience is, that it took 23 years for my brother and I to ever discuss it.

On September 20th, 2015, I woke from what I thought at the time to be a very lucid dream. I was on a ship, and there were three or four small grays with me. One of them was talking to me through some form of telepathy. What’s more, I knew him, and he was like an old friend.

He walked me into a room, all white or silver, and it was fairly large, maybe 30 feet x 20 feet. He walked me to a wall, and suddenly it became translucent and I could see another  room that looked like an operating room. To my surprise, my sister was laying on the bed unconscious. Two tall white and fairly thin beings were in the room with her, one on either side. Again, these beings were familiar. I remembered that when they communicate telepathically, that they woud send visual and emotional message packets. I would receive the whole message at once.

They were getting ready to remove one of my sister’s arms, at the shoulder, and oddly that didn’t bother me. Both of the whites acknowledged my presence with a look, and continued to work.

I asked my gray friend (telepathically) what procedure they would undertake with me this time.  Instead of telling me in a sentence, he showed me the procedure in my mind. It’s hard to explain what they were doing, but basically they were going to expand my molecules or atoms, or something at that level, throughout my whole body. Then they were going to put something in the space between.

The gray then told me that this is going to be the most painful thing I will ever experience in my life. I laid down on a metal table that had a slight incline to it. Then a light starts shining down on me. At first there was only a sensation of heat, the kind of sensation you have when you have an MRI. Quickly though, the heat started to intensify throughout my body. I felt a strange vibration start to take place, then intense searing heat and pain.

I could feel my body start to be pulled, no ripped apart. Then I heard a loud piercing sound in my head, that was deafening. Everything started to turn red, and I tried to scream, but I’m not sure if I was able to. Then just blackness.

I woke jumping out of bed. I went straight in and grabbed my phone and texted my sister, to see if she had any strange dreams. Later that day she responded, telling me about a dream of her teeth falling out.

September 20th, 2016
My wife and I had a patio poured out back of our home in the country.  We had been enjoying the weather and the birds every night. On this night, exactly one year after my lucid dream, something happened. It was around 7:30 PM and the sun still out with a nice cloudless blue sky. I was scanning the skies when I suddenly saw something.

At first I didn’t know what it was, but I told my wife to look. Whatever it was looked huge, and far off. I grabbed my binoculars and studied it. At first it looked like an enormous linear blob with no distinguishable shape, but then I watched it change its form. It suddenly looked like two biplanes flying sideways. I accepted that at first, but then said “wait a minute, they would have to be huge, and why are the flying sideways?

So I looked again, and still it was changing shape. It finally appeared as a  long cigar shape, either white or silver, with a sort of arrow on the top of one side. I stopped watching with the binoculars, and my wife and I just watched as it approached. Then it just disappeared. Gone!

However, before it vanished, I got a message. It said: Time to wake up. It was no dream, it is time to grow.” Right then and there, I knew. I knew religion was a lie, I knew history is a lie. There is this whole big world, a reality that exists out of the view of this surface illusion, the everyday world.

Since then, I call upon the crafts, and see plenty of strangeness. I’ve learned to do oobe’s, and I am set to attend the Monroe Institute this summer. I crave answers badly. How are you finding your resources of people so easily? Are there any resources out there to help the average Joe like me?

+++

If anyone would like to communicate with John, please let us know and we’ll put you in contact.

 

 

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Tripping on 3s

Posted on April 27, 2017 by Trish and Rob

We drove five hours recently from here in Palm Beach County to Sugarloaf Key, located 17 miles from Key West. We had lunch with Trish’s literary agent and his wife, and two hours later we turned around and drove back. It’s pleasant driving through the Florida keys and seeing all that clear aqua blue water on either side of the road. However, we’re glad we don’t take that double trip very often. The drive was also accompanied with rain, buckets of it in the lower keys. That was unusual for us since back home we are in drought conditions. Very little rain for weeks and weeks.

Of course, we were watchful as ever for synchronicities on the journey and we found them through numbers. The #3 to be precise. As we drove toward our destination, I happened to look at the odometer and saw that it read: 3111. Okay, that’s 33 in numerology. I mentioned it to Trish. Then, on our return trip I looked again at the odometer and this time it read: 3333. I pointed it out and we were talking about it when we looked up to see a street sign hanging above the road, which was sort of odd in itself. Just before we passed under it, Trish said: “Look, it’s 33rd Street.”

So that was a bunch of threes – 8 in all. Since 33 is a master number, we took it as a good omen for things to come.

 

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Startling alien encounter story

Posted on April 25, 2017 by Trish and Rob

We haven’t talked to these guys, but it’s hard to imagine that they are making up this story. They also present evidence, a hand print left on a car hood that was made into a cast.

However, it seems they are holding back part of the story. What happened after the initial encounter in the forest? Were they abducted? Did they experience missing time? Whatever it was they experienced was shocking enough that these two men, who had regularly camped in the forest, never went on another camping trip there, not since 2002.

Here’s a you tube about it:

 

 

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The Poop Bag Thief

Posted on April 23, 2017 by Trish and Rob

The man at the top of the post is now known among the dog park people as a notorious poop bag thief. Weird, right?

Today at the dog park, several of us were standing around, chatting and tossing balls and Frisbees for our dogs, when I noticed a man at the poop bag dispensary pulling out reams of the yellow bags that are for picking up your dog’s waste. He didn’t have a dog with him and was stuffing the yellow bags into a larger paper bag. I kept watching him and thought that maybe he couldn’t figure out how to pull along the dotted lines that separate one bag from another. I turned to Sharon.

“Hey, look at that guy.”

She glanced around and laughed. “What the hell?”

He continued to do and must have stuffed hundreds of the yellow bags into his larger bag when Sharon and I started toward him. “Excuse me, sir,” Sharon said. “What’re you doing?”

“It’s none of your business,” he snapped, and kept jerking out more bags.

“That’s theft,” I said.

“Fuck off,” he replied. “I pay taxes.”

“Hey,” I said. “So do I, but that doesn’t entitled me to steal poop bags. Leave some for the dog owners.”

“Fuck off,” he said again.

Just then, Jaime came into the park with her two dogs, saw that something was going on. “This guy’s stealing poop bags,” I said.

She immediately raised her phone and snapped several photos of him. “These pictures are going to the city.”

With that, he hurried out the gate. Jaime followed him to his car, snapped a picture of his license plate. “I’ll have your name by tomorrow.”

“You fat c***,” he said.

She just laughed. And then he lunged at her. She stepped back, he got into his Audi, and drove off.

Bag dispensaries used to be outside the park, near the parking lot, but last year the city moved them all inside the park because someone kept emptying the dispensaries. We’re betting he’s the culprit.

What possesses someone to steal several hundred dog poop bags? Does he own packs of dogs? Does he sell these bags on ebay? Is he some demented old man who fills his closet with these things? He may be just another South Florida eccentric whose brain has been fried by the tropical sun.

 

 

 

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Going out of body from a dream…

Posted on April 21, 2017 by Trish and Rob

OOBEs are not dreams

We get e-mails occasionally that are literally out of this world. In other words, they concern matters that are outside the realm of the everyday world. Such was the case recently when Wes Meeks from Texas wrote about a dream he had that led into an out-of-body experience. Here it is:

“During a dream, I realized I was dreaming, so I decided to fly. I felt the vibrations and instantly I was out.  I was so happy to just fly freely that I forgot about any real destination.  This is one of the hazards of OOBEs.  The ultimate joy and freedom of simply flying in the air or through space is so exhilarating that it causes one to forget about any other plans.”

I found something puzzling about Wes’ experience. How did he know that he was actually out of body and not having a lucid dream in which he directed his dreaming self to fly. So I asked him.

“I believe that this was an OOBE because I felt and saw the transition from the sort of grayish dream colors to blackness, then the feeling of air rushing by and then seeing an amazing number of stars.  I also felt the vibrations come on when I tried to move from the lucid dream to an OOBE.  And finally, when I had flown long enough, which this time was a few minutes, I felt the familiar vacuum and then I was back in my body, lying on my bed trembling and wide awake.  I have flown in dreams before, but did not get the vibrations nor was I able to fly for long, but settled down to the ground and the dream continued.  That is how I know this was a true OOBE.”

After reading the explanation, I was curious about the sensation of feeling the wind while out of body. If you don’t have a physical body, how do you feel the wind? Again, Wes responded.

“During an oobe, a person can still somehow feel the wind when flying in the atmosphere.  This is strange, yes, because if one is out of body, how would the person feel anything?  How does a body made of “energy” meet with resistance or friction of any kind?  Equally amazing is my own experience as well as other persons’ experiences of being able to touch things or people or move things while out of body.  My opinion is that the astral body, being totally an energy form, can somehow meld into the object to move it.

“But I also many times have traveled through walls or ceilings and actually seen the various materials that make up a house on a nearly molecular level.  When passing through a wall or ceiling there is somehow a feeling, I mean that I feel the plywood, the wires, the sheet rock, the wood and I pass through these on the way out of my house.”

Finally, since Wes has had experiences where he flies off into space, I had to ask if he felt anything in space—a vacuum.

“I did not feel the movement of air in outer space, only when I was flying in the atmosphere. When I would fly in the stars, it was similar to the beginning of the old Star Trek shows. I would fly infinitely fast and the stars would sometimes blur into nearly solid lines.  I am not sure how I am able to transition from star travel to being on some other plane.  I think I would just suddenly think of somewhere else and be there.”

Wes Meeks is featured in chapter one of our upcoming book, STRANGE THINGS: True Stories about Alien Encounters & Paranormal Mysteries. – Rob

 

 

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Mockingbirds As Messengers

Posted on April 19, 2017 by Trish and Rob

This afternoon (April 16, Easter Sunday) as we entered the dog park, Nika and Noah made a beeline for an area shaded by three large trees where squirrels usually hide out. As Noah trotted over to the first tree and sniffed at the trunk, a mockingbird swooped down, chattering madly, and nearly hit him. Then a second mockingbird did the same thing when Nika and several other dogs arrived to do the squirrel sniff test. The dogs barely noticed the birds, but we humans did.

“They’ve got a nest somewhere in here,” remarked a man sitting at the picnic table.

I watched the birds for several minutes, swooping into another area of the park where other dogs were sniffing at the trees, trying to locate squirrels. I followed Nika and Noah to the path, lined with more trees, and a woman walking her dog – a really small dog – said one of the mockingbirds had struck her dog while they were walking near the fence. “And my dog is just inches above the ground, so that gives you an idea of how low that bird had to swoop.”

I didn’t think anymore about it until we left the park and I saw the woman with the small dog watching something at a tree near the park fence. She saw me and waved me over. “The baby those mockingbirds was protecting just fell out of the tree. I tried to pick it up to put it back into the branches, but it got scared and fluttered away from me.”

I went over to the tree and the little guy was huddled on the ground. I tried to distract it while the woman cupped her hands around it gently. Suddenly, its downy wings fluttered and it sort of flew, but mostly hopped away, through an opening in the fence and into the dog park. I was moving toward it when the mockingbird swept up behind me and struck me in the back of the head.

It didn’t hurt, but it startled me and the woman and I backed off. Then the bird swooped toward the baby and chased it back through the hole in the fence so it wasn’t inside the dog park.

When we got home, I did some research on mockingbirds. The northern mockingbird, common to North America, lays an average of four eggs that hatch 11 to 14 days after incubation. After 10 to 15 days, its  considered to be independent even though its ability to fly isn’t fully developed.

So this was the drama that had been unfolding at the dog park. The vigilant parents were trying to protect the little guy until it could actually fly. I thought about this as a message. I was struck by the bird, not injured in any way, but it startled me and certainly seized my attention. Mockingbirds sing joyfully. They’re communicators.

Right now, Rob and I – communicators – have four projects making the rounds, a novel and three non-fiction proposals, the number of eggs mockingbirds typically lay. If I look at the life cycle of these birds for timing, as I’ve done with these bird encounters in the past, then in 10-15 days, good news – joyful news – should arrive about one or all of these projects. Stay tuned!

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‘Quite a coincidence’

Posted on April 17, 2017 by Trish and Rob

That was the assessment of an DeKalb County, Alabama coroner to the astonishing dual tragedies involving a mother and daughter. Both died in traffic accidents within  half an hour of one another. The mother, 39, and daughter, 8, were both killed on the same highway a few miles apart. The mother was in a head-on accident, the daughter was struck by a car a few minutes after getting a school bus. The coroner, Tom Wilson, said he’d never seen anything like it. “Quite a coincidence.”

A sad story, no doubt. You can just image how the survivors – father, grandparents, siblings would feel in the aftermath of such a tragedy. In spite of their youthful ages, it seems that on a deeper level, mother and daughter were ready to move on, and both wanted to leave this world together.

I’m sure many people reading such an assessment would be taken aback or angered by such a seemingly crass comment. On the contrary, we find the truly crass perspective the idea that these two deaths were simply random  incidents that happened without any deeper meaning

While in our everyday world, it certainly seems accidents happen, even strangely coincidental accidents. But, from the perspective of the bigger picture, or the higher self, there are no accidents. What transpires on the physical is a reflection of choices made at a deeper level of consciousness. That’s not to say there were no regrets. But there must’ve been a decision made by mother and daughter, possibly before either were born, to remain here for a particular number of years before moving on together.

We know nothing about their lives. But perhaps they came here to accomplish a certain goal together – possibly related to a past-life scenario – and then move on.

We’d be interested in hearing other assessments of this so-called coincidence, either in agreement or other perspectives.

 

 

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