Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Meet Me in the Orb: Jim’s novel

Yesterday I wrote about something Jim had written in his novel that reminded me of our missing time, our "dreams" of UFOs and our Orange Orb sighting.

The following is an excerpt from Jim’s novel. It’s difficult to describe what it’s about or what genre to put it into. Sci-fi, kind of. Conspiracy novel, definitely; there’s a lot concerning MKULTRA and mind control. But it’s more than that as well, with metaphysical aspects, estoeric themes. . . This is from the rough first draft which fills several notebooks -- yes, he’s writing it in longhand!. Jim estimates the book would run about 600 pages; he’s considering creating three seperate books; sequels. I realize the reader won’t know the characters, or where in the novel the following two scenes take place, but here they are:

Untitled Novel by James (Jim) Rich, copyright 2010.

[The following scene takes place on an ocean liner. Martina is on the deck of the ship with Dr. Bremoli; it is her voice that’s speaking:]

I noticed that there appeared to be a light, just off the bow deep beneath the surface . “Another way for what?”
“Another way for you. Your way is the most difficult.”
For the first time, he seemed old and scary. The light was growing bigger and brighter. Something was rising out of the depths; something huge. “What's that?”
“I haven’t much time. You must listen very carefully: you won’t always remember this.”

The light resolved into a bright central light surrounded by a ring of smaller multicolored lights that rotated around the perimeter of an immense, circular, metallic object. Dr. Bremoli put his lips to my ear speaking softly in a lilting language that I almost understood. It was a song, or a poem, or a lullaby to calm a distressed child. It sank deep into my unconscious tickling the hairs of memory, rustling the leaves of my senses. The craft (at this point I could think of it as nothing else) emerged from the sea like nothing I’d ever seen its passage seemingly displacing no water creating no wave, leaving the sea undisturbed, as it hovered just above me a dozen yards off the bow.

Morning Shower, James (Jim) Rich, acrylic on canvas

It was dry as a bone. Not a drop of water clung to it; strangely it reminded me of Jillian in the shower. It was incompressible, defying all reason. It was immense - at lease a mile in diameter - and there it hung, motionless, suspended, silent, but for a faint hum so low that I felt it in my gut rather than heard it. Unlike the top, there were no lights on the vast, featureless underbelly of a dark matte finish metal that was practically invisible, blending in with both sky and water. It seemed impervious to the laws of nature, like Magritte's Castle of the Pyrenees.
 “What did you say?” I asked, glancing over at the doctor, but he was gone. I spun around; he was no where to be seen among the still, almost motionless passengers. I looked back at the craft, just in time to see it depart, which it did in a fashion I never experienced, moving off in a direction perpendicular to everywhere, shrinking away into nothingness. I turned back around; once again the passengers were promenading around the deck, enjoying the now cool evening air, oblivious to the strange event that had transpired between moments.
Castle in the Pryenees, Rene Magritte

[A scene or two later, Martina goes down into the ship to meet with the very wealthy genius -scientist, Rainier Brancusi, in his labatory:]

I set off on my journey, taking the elevator to the lowest deck, where I switched to a service elevator which took me deep into the bowels of the ship. To the rear was the engine room. The air was hot, thick with diesel fuel, throbbing with machinery, but I made my way forward through a maze of narrow passageways to a hatch, beneath which a rusted ladder disappeared into uncertain darkness, and from which a nauseating stench issued like the breath of some infernal beast. “Really?!” I thought attempting to deal with my growing sense of claustrophobia, “was all this necessary? “ I considered turning back; after all, why was I going in the first place?

“Because he knows something,” said Medusa. [Medusa is an MKULTRA created personality that resides within Martina] and we need to find out what.”

I started down the ladder into the unwholesome darkness, like Orpheus descending into the underworld. I preceded rung by rung, my footsteps preternaturally loud, reverberating in the cavernous space accompanied by the creaking of stressed metal and the listless lapping of the liquid below.

The dim interior was lit primarily from a number of small unknown sources above, and an eerie bioluminescence billowing in the water below. As my eyes adjusted, I could make out a catwalk leading from the platform where the ladder ended, across the looming, phosphorescent abyss to a geodesic sphere suspended from cables in the center of the bilge. A figure was waiting for me on the platform.
I found the orb/sphere imagery interesting, as well as the description of time standing still, the unwareness of the ship's passengers of the USO/UFO, and the scientist character hidden away in the depths of the ship.

Looking at this the same way I've been looking at dreams and other expressions might reveal something about our experiences.

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