No one’s going to read this anyway, so I figure I can say whatever I want without regard to the possibility of readers. I’ve just got too many random thoughts bumping around in my head that seem to be very suddenly… synchronizing with one another, achieving a kind of ressonance.
In light of Terry Olgin’s recent blog about HAARP, and the tragedies of Chile, Indonesia, Haiti, Japan, Somalia, climate change, polar shifts, and the splitting of Africa into two continents, to name just the bigger ongoing occurances within the past several years, certain other things have come to mind because it’s clear that something big is happening to the world overall. Another ressonance effect? Either way….
In the summer of 1989, while at the annual war games I went to with my reserve unit in Eastern Washington, I began a story called The Hidden Isles about the people living on a series of small island, archipelagos, that were shielded and hidden from view by force field. The people were Starseed and being protected from the rest of humanity and others as well. Previously, at a very high rate of speed (geologically speaking) the earth had undergone vast changes in the form of changing climate, changing atmosphere, earthquakes, tsunamis, hurricanes, splitting continents, and tectonic shifts which the religious people, of course, gleefully refered to as the “end of the world and the beginning of Judgement Day.” A human looking alien by name of Lucien Trevar, who has long been inculcated among humans, uses the turmoil and his own innate charisma to come to power as part of a long range plane to subdue and enslave the human race for his own. It is the role of the people of the Hidden Isles, the only people that he cannot get to, to undermine this plan.
I’m not sure if this story was from dreams I had or not. That’s typically how stories come to me. In any case, there were images involved that I scribbled into my notebooke as fast as I could whenever I had time to do it. The images of the dissasters were the strongest. Others, more fun ones, involved an elaborate mansion full of hidden passages and the like. Later, after I’d left the field, many other images came. One of these were of a couple riding horseback over a sandspit from one island to a much smaller one at low tide and the girl leaning over to the side to look into the waters above sunken land and catching glimpses of geometery through the clear bright sunlit depths amid the drifts of sand: the underwater ruins of what was apparently once a town. They were very beautiful in an eerie kind of way and it’s an image that has stuck with me.
In 1994, when I had the story pretty much all together except for a few loose ends here and there, a publisher from New York offered for it after reading a few chapters. For some odd reason I no longer remember, much less fathom, my response to this was something akin to terror. It makes absolutely no sense at all to the point that I’m wondering if I remember it correctly. But I was afraid, for some reason, of two many people reading about those dissasters and reacting to them in some horrible way. Again, it makes no sense at all for me to have worried over that or even to think they would. I mean, why should that? It’s a science fiction story, right? But I did worry about it to the point that I considered dropping mention of them out of the story entirely. But then the story didn’t work. So, in short, I have continued working on the story over the years, but have never gotten around to publishing it.
In 1995, I had a series of dreams that I wrote into a smaller story – a novella actually. This one concerned a modern day civilian geophysicist named Joel who discovers that the work he does with lazers to discover oil deposits for his company causes all matter of climatic and tectonic havoc. Deciding that this is not a good thing, he wants to back away from it, only to have himself and his work commandeered by the military who want to use it as a weapon, causing havoc in any nation they need to destabilize. So they use him to this end, disregardings his warnings, until they jointly discover the fact that no meddled with portion of the world is wholly separate from the rest. They react to one another. The bigger the disruption, the more violent and unpredictable the blowback. They realize too late that they just replayed the last days of legendary Atlantis and Joel loses his entire family to it. Yet the process is not without moderation. Time to reset the game!
I would publish this one if I knew how to go about it… despite the fact of even the suggestion of this technology being dangerous. It occurs to me that it might be more dangerous not to mention it. I think of George Orwell’s 1984 and realize that sci-fic makes a perfect vessel to warn of future events without too many personal tangles and dangers having to be undertaken to do it. I realize that a LOT of sci-fi writers have done this… not only to warn, but also to nuture ideas for science to follow after like, for instance, Benjamin Franklin’s story of a rocket to the moon back in the 1770’s. It may have taken a while, but science did follow. So, yes I would. But where on earth does one go to get a novella published? It’s only like 189 pages or so.
So last night, Jeb and I were watching Ancient Astronauts and very much enjoying the contagious enthusiasm of our favorite character on the show, Georgio Tsukalas, whom we got to meet in person little more than a month ago. He’s so funny! But, anyway, he was talking about how people of long ago interpreted alien encounters as religious encounters and often with many different beings they took to be a single being, being confused by cross messages. He says something to the effect of, “But maybe aliens are like us: both good and bad. Maybe they don’t always have our best interests at heart. Maybe it’s more about what they need or want from us.”
I’ve often thought so. “Abraham, offer your son as a blood sacrifice to me!” So Abraham prepares to do so and is stopped only at the last second by “No! Take this ram instead!” and there’s a ram all handy for him with it’s horns stuck in a bush. Bad god games, Good god?
“Abraham, worship no other god before me!” Subtext, ‘Not that the others don’t exist; just don’t answer to any but me. I may need you for war against the people of those others.’
They, Georgio and his partner whose name I can’t think of, go one to describe how these “gods” have gone about choosing humans receptive to them to relay messages to the rest of humanity and how often these messengers are quite bruttally discarded when they’ve fulfulled this need and are needed no longer. Joan of Arc for example, who was burned at the stake; or Saint John, who was stoned to death. Only a very savage people could commit such monstrous acts. But the religious people of the Middle Ages then, as too some religious nationals in the present day world.
Speaking of which, they also mention an island off the coast of Ireland called Hy Brasil whose culture very wealthy and advanced at a time when the rest of Europe was nothing short of barbaric and to be avoided.
Why mention that? Well the two soldiers who had the encounter in Rendlesham Forest and got the bianary code off touching the alien craft had the code translated many years later when bianary code was more commonly known as Ascii code. The message was something to the effect of “Monitoring of humanity continued.” It gave some earth coordinates and added, “For the advancement of earth.”
I’m not sure if I have the wording exactly right but I do recall it was ambiguous enough that it was unclear whether “advancement” in this context meant technologically for earth’s benefit or militarily as in a military advance on the earth. It’s also unclear whether these soldiers were chosen to receive the message deliberately, or if the receipt of this communication was actually accidental… like they just happened to be at the right mental frequency in the right location…? But the coordinates were for Hy Brasil as portrayed in various maps of the middle and dark ages.
That’s the thing about Hy Brasil. Various historical personages have seen, visited, and charted it, only to find it later moved or disappeared, like its an interdimensional island same as Avolon was oft reputed to be, hidden by magicks and mist. Both likewise have been called “the Fortunate Island(s)” because of their ample natural resources and wealth.
Last night, I dreamed of being in a huge mall that had been converted into an evacuation center, people camped out all over in it, crowded, but carefully organized. There was no more electricity, so people were using oil and battery operated lamps to light their assigned areas. I had my pet hamsters with me though I can’t recall the significance of that. Only that someone was telling me the Illuminati were among us here and that they had some kind of evil designs on us all, a new world order, and they wanted me to infiltrate while adding, “Oh by the way, they’ll kill you if they find you out.”
Oh joy! But I was going along with it, being pressured towards it even if I didn’t believe all the hype. Guess I just wanted to see for myself before passing any kind of judgement on them. Judgement is, after all, a double edged sword.
There was something I had to put on in order to fit in and I was looking around in the shadows and cubby holes at the edges of the indoor incampments for a safe place to change when a man I knew to be Illuminati handed me soft cloth package, bowed, and said it was their gift to me and they hoped I would wear it when I was their honored guest this evening.
I accepted it in astonishment. What? They knew I was coming AND they welcomed me? Yikes! Welcomed me to what? My execution perhaps?
Inside was a two piece gown of white silk richly embroidered with silver and gold, seed pearls, and small gems, an outfit fit for princess. I stared at it in shock for a very long moment then figured, what the hell, and found a dark nich to change into it within. Then I went through some curtains and knew myself to be in their abode, but for what? I was petrified but determined to go through with it anyway. Too late to go back and I didn’t want to live in the darkness of not knowing.
Unfortunately, I still do not know. I woke up before I could learn anything, though Jeb tells me I slept through the first alarm and he suspected I would sleep through the second if he hadn’t resorted to shaking me then. And heck, I usually wake so easily!
Side thought: Are the Hy Brasilians the future people of the Hidden Isles? Are they from whom the inspiration somehow came?
Meh. Never mind I said that. What a nutty idea.