Emma Woods: Paranormal Traces

Emma Woods has a YouTube channel: Paranormal Traces. And do not think Ms. Woods has gone away -- she has not. Much to come on not only her own experiences with the discredited David Jacobs, but … well, more to come.

Book Project: Entering the Orb

I've begun a new project. Not sure yet how I'll end up doing this; interactive, as Nancy Birnes suggested, e-book, Kindle, self-publish, blog, pay per installment...so many options. I think, however, that it will be in a sort of journal format, fairly traditional in terms of publishing (e-book/Kindle/self, or through a publisher) with segments posted here at The Orange Orb.

So here it is, working title: Entering the Orb: A Couple's Journey into Missing Time, Screen Memories and UFOs.

Jim and I have decided, spontaneously and independently of each other, to go through some kind of regression and retrieval process to find out what happened during our missing time experiences. We've agreed that we would not share what we found out about our own experiences until all the work has been done. We don't know yet if we would see different people, or the same person. If we saw the same person, there's the possibility that person would be unconsciously influenced by the both of us.  Than again, maybe not.

A lot of this is absolutely trust based. How can we prove to others that we're telling the truth when we say we won't discuss with each other what's been discovered, until it's all done? We can't.

There's also a large issue of vulnerability here. Some possible causes for the missing time episodes are obvious -- as in, oh my god they really were Reptilian Overlords. Other reasons concern memory. As you'll see in my next post, Jim and I have very different memories of one of our missing time events. Clearly, one of us is wrong. So why the difference in memories? And if it turns out the cause for missing time isn't UFO related, alien related or some other esoteric or metaphysical cause, then what, and why? Are we unstable? Did someone drug us? (If so, why, and that's certainly scary on its own.) I could handle any of those, (I think) but what I don't think I could handle is the possibly we made it all up. Unintentionally of course, but made up nonetheless. If that is so, why in the world would we do so? That in itself is intriguing.

In UFO Magazine: Jeremy Vaeni's 'Aliens vs. Predator: The Incredible Visitations at Emma Woods

There is so much to say about the fantastic article by Jeremy Vaeni in this issue of UFO Magazine. (Aliens vs. Predators: The Incredible Visitations at Emma Woods.)

But for now, please, please, go and get yourself this issue, and read the article. Vaeni has done an excellent job with unraveling the seeming madness that is David Jacobs, the always precarious method of hypnosis used by some researchers to get at the submerged bits of missing time and nebulous memories of aliens, examinations, trips aboard saucers, and all the rest of "Abductions 101", and subject/witness Emma Woods.

From the beginning of this episode in UFO culture, I wondered why there wasn't more outcry from the UFO community. And yet, there still isn't; what there mainly seems to be, still, are a few stubbornly standing up for Jacobs, and misogynist pronouncements about Emma Woods' sanity, and worse. Other than that, little has been really said about this.

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.

George Hansen on Paratopia -- and Nancy Birnes!

Good for Jeremy and Jeff at Paratopia for inviting George Hansen back on. I haven't listened to the interview yet; in fact, have it on now, so can't comment yet on the content. But, while the 'trickster' aspect seems obvious to me, and I've been pushing Hansen on UFO and esoteric studies all along, it seems there are those that either don't agree with these ideas (as well as anti-structure, liminality, marginalization, etc.) or feel it's too academic. Other writers that are good to read along these lines include Daniel Pinchbeck and Patrick Harpur.

Also, tonight at 9pm Eastern time, Paratopia interviews UFO Magazine editor Nancy Birnes. I'm looking forward to this one!