Friday 31 May 2019

Dan Simmons’s wise words about mind vampires

I first mentioned Dan Simmons’s horror story Carrion Comfort in the final article of the series inspired by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s short story The Parasite.

I did eventually find the copy I wanted, the one with an introduction specially written for the 20th anniversary edition.

Much of what Dan Simmons says about vampires in general in his new introduction is of great interest and relevance; it is both horrific and very familiar; it stirs up very painful memories.

He starts by informing his readers that while blood-drinking vampires of the type portrayed in horror films do not exist in real life, mind vampires certainly do. I think in terms of energy vampires, people who have a negative effect on those around them, but the scenarios and effects are much the same.

I regret to be the one to inform you, Dracula and his blood-slurping ilk are make-believe.

But mind vampires are real.

Few if any of us get through life without being preyed upon by more than one mind vampire. Even children are not exempt from falling victim to these foul fiends.

It is probably true that most people will encounter at least one vampire along the way; I would not say even children but especially children, at least vulnerable, defenceless and unprotected ones. Some unfortunate if not doomed children even have vampires for parents.

Mind vampires feed on violence, but the ultimate violence for them is the imposition of their will over yours. I long ago discovered that such an exercise of will and control of one person over another is a form of violence, and one we can all gain an unholy taste for if we’re allowed to.”

This says it all. The exercising of control of and power over others, overtly or covertly, is a very familiar characteristic of energy vampires. They want their victims to dance to their tune.

Sunday 26 May 2019

Two small synchronicities earlier this week

There are several articles on here that describe some of the small synchronicities and coincidences I have experienced over the years.

In many cases, something that I had been thinking about or wishing I could see manifested itself in my outer life.

I now have two more of these small coincidences to report.

A few days ago, I created a post for the Alternaticity Project Forum in which I mentioned the white and blue lozenge-checked flag of Bavaria. I then started drafting an article about John Buchan’s Greenmantle, to be published on the 103rd anniversary in July. I like to give myself plenty of time for and do a little work each day on such articles, as it takes a while to find something new to say about a classic book.

Later that day while I was out on various errands, I looked out of the bus window and saw something bizarre even by London standards: a man wearing a light blue and white lozenge-checked suit and a blue bowler hat. He was standing outside a hospital; perhaps he was a children’s entertainer who had come out for a cigarette.

A short time later, a van pulled up beside my bus as it waited at some traffic lights. The van had ‘Greenmantle’ on its side. It stayed beside my bus for a while after we moved off.

In this case, Greenmantle was the name of a landscaping and garden maintenance company. I had never seen one of their vans before; I didn’t even know that they existed.

This reminds me of some of the synchronicities I experienced in 2013, when I saw some very significant names on the trucks and vans around my bus.

I wonder what is behind all this and what the next synchronous events will be.


Tuesday 21 May 2019

More about Terry Pratchett and the attributes of witches

Some of the main characters in Terry Pratchett’s Discworld books are witches.

From time to time he slips serious statements about them into his amusing stories. I sometimes wonder where he got his ideas about witches and witchcraft from.

There is a little more to add to the article about a good definition of a witch; the new material is based on more quotations from Terry Pratchett’s books.

What a witch really is may not match what many people think a witch is; some of the attributes may be unexpected, but they are the sign of the real thing.

Witches are different
The idea that there is more than one type of human being comes from many independent sources.

Thursday 16 May 2019

The bureaucrats and the upward path

Recent developments in the war with the bureaucrats  who behave like cult members have reminded me of something I wrote in an article about the three paths that people take.

I said this in connection with the path that spirals upward:

One horrible manager who left the company I was working for was replaced with someone similar. The only good thing that could be said about her was that she wasn't as bad as her predecessor, but this was a still sign of an upward move. I had done my best to deal appropriately with the first unpleasant boss; I had changed and she hadn't, so she could no longer play her games.”

This is similar to what has happened in the last few days: not one but two very unpleasant bureaucrats have resigned from the project that threatens my and my neighbours’ future. 

They have been replaced by people who are easier to deal with. They are still the enemy, but they are less unscrupulous, less lacking in integrity and more pleasant than their predecessors.  They may all be in on it, but the new people are not so deeply in as the old ones were.

I am sure that these departures are no accident and that unseen influences have been at work.

Sunday 12 May 2019

Strindberg and his cult-pushing secret friend: Part III

There is more than one way of looking at the story of August Strindberg and his secret friend.

Not only can we see it as a falling out between a cult member and the person he targeted for cultivation and recruitment, we can also treat it as an occult war between two black magicians. Either way, we have two men quarrelling in a very uncivilised and low-class way.

These scenarios or interpretations of events are not mutually exclusive; they all have relevance to the case. This final article in the series will cover these different dimensions of Strindberg’s story.

The cult member and the target
The secret friend’s persistence is sinister. Surely a normal, decent person would have realised long ago that Strindberg was just not buying Madame Blavatsky and her ideology and given up trying to sell to and recruit him.  He sounds just like one of those Multi-level Marketers who won’t take ‘no’ for an answer! 

Strindberg says that this man was very anxious for him to give a good opinion of Blavatsky’s book. His reaction to Strindberg’s criticism is a classic, textbook example of a cult member’s behaviour when the cult leader or the ideology is criticised or someone refuses to join after being targeted.

So why exactly was this man so determined to recruit Strindberg and why did he react the way he did when he finally failed?

I get the impression that some cult members are controlled - or even possessed - and under orders; I sense fear in addition to anger: they behave as if they will be terribly punished if they don’t complete their assignments successfully. They will pay for it if the prey escapes.

Thursday 9 May 2019

Strindberg and his cult-pushing secret friend: Part II

The story in his autobiographical novel Inferno of August Strindberg’s relationship with his ‘secret friend’ has few original elements; much of it is depressingly familiar, even when read for the first time.

While Inferno was an unexpected place to find independent confirmation of some of my ideas about games cult members play, I was not at all surprised to find yet another example of the ‘falling for a false image and going from worship to total disillusionment syndrome’ or to see that Strindberg’s ‘friends’ usually turned into what he called false friends, faithless friends, former friends and enemies!

Feuding occultists are nothing new either.

Part I ended with the start of what Strindberg called a ‘paper war’, with Strindberg’s secret friend and benefactor revealing his true intentions and threatening to call on occult powers to force Strindberg to accept the theosophist Madame Blavatsky as his teacher.

So what did Strindberg do next?

Strindberg’s counter threat
Strindberg’s response to the threat shows that the two men deserved each other! Like really does attract like.

Strindberg replied that he would call on occult powers of his own if the secret friend tried to interfere with his destiny! As a warning, he told his secret friend about what had happened ten years earlier to a man who tried to influence him against his will. This man sounds rather like the secret friend:

This man...in spite of his display of sympathy, was not really my well-wisher. An absolute tyrant, he wanted to interfere with my destiny, to tame and subdue me, in order to show me his superiority.

Same game, different player it seems. This man received some severe, family-related blows; Strindberg suggests that he brought this trouble on himself because he played with fire when he tried to interfere in Strindberg’s life.

The secret friend did not give up easily; he was not deterred by this implied threat.

Monday 6 May 2019

Strindberg and his cult-pushing secret friend: Part I

Previous articles cover August Strindberg’s ‘friendships’ with the man he called the ‘Danish painter’ and with the ‘mystery man’; now it is time to look at Strindberg’s relationship with someone he called his ‘secret friend’.

Strindberg had a history of falling out with people and breaking off relationships. He tells us in Inferno that the Danish painter became his enemy and that he and the down-and-out mystery man cooled off and never saw or heard from each other again. Then there was the correspondence with Nietzsche that lasted for only a short time.

It is easy to deduce from this what would eventually happen in the case of the secret friend! According to Strindberg, this man turned not just from a friend into an enemy but from an angel into a demon! 

My guess is that the secret friend was a demon all along but for a while concealed his real nature behind a mask of benevolence.

This case is of interest not only because of what it says about Strindberg’s pattern of relationships and the sort of people he became involved with, but also because this secret friend behaved like a cult member. I was surprised to recognise in this story some elements previously featured in articles about cults. I detected the Sole Supplier Syndrome for example; the infuriating  Superiority Syndrome is much in evidence and so is the dreaded Attack-dog Syndrome!

Strindberg’s ‘secret friend’
Stella Benson had her imaginary Secret Friends; Strindberg had someone he called his ‘secret friend’ who offered financial and other support, playing, as he said, “... a decisive rôle in my life as mentor, counsellor, comforter, judge, and, not least, as a reliable helper in various times of need.”

So why would this man do all that for someone he had never met? Did he have ulterior motives and a hidden agenda, or was he just a benefactor, a patron who recognised Strindberg’s talents and wanted to encourage and assist him?

The answer seems obvious to me: the secret friend cultivated the relationship with Strindberg because he was after something. I have highlighted some key statements that give the game away.

Thursday 2 May 2019

David St. Clair’s string of misfortunes

I first learned about August Strindberg’s string of misfortunes from Colin Wilson’s book The Occult.

I found another case of interest in Beyond the Occult, where Colin Wilson gives a summary of the run of ’bad luck’ experienced by the American journalist David St. Clair.

This ‘curse or coincidence?’ case has inspired an article because of some familiar features and resemblance to other cases.

As with Strindberg’s troubles, there is an obvious starting point and an obvious - and metaphysical - cause. There is a difference in that Strindberg brought his trouble on himself whereas St. Clair was an innocent victim.

Both men experienced good patches in their lives immediately before the trouble started: Strindberg had a few good months in Paris, while David St. Clair lived a very pleasant life for eight years in Rio de Janeiro before everything started to go wrong.

Strindberg endured a long period of misfortunes, while St. Clair’s spell of bad luck did not last very long.