Sunday, October 28, 2012

My First 11:11 Experience

I'm writing this blog post today to be on record, first and foremost, about something which I have absolutely no interest in whatsoever but, nevertheless, something resembling paranormal activity and the resulting host of social phenomena that have been sweeping a lot of people off their feet for quite some time now. And now it's finally reached me. I don't know all the details about the 11:11 Phenomenon and I'm not researching it beyond a cursory Google Search for some background. Why am I so nonchalant about this? Because I just don't give a damn anymore.

I'm tired of this smoke-and-mirrors world and its fascination with hooded ascetics, robed charlatans and aging baby-boomer relics pretending to be spiritual guides to a higher realm of existence and the corresponding cloak-and-dagger element dedicated to guarding the imprisoned truth so it never gets out. This kind of pseudo-spiritual nonsense with its "cosmic doubletalk" and phony psychobabble is only masking what truly lies beneath, which is the truth about science and mathematics and their whimsical use as tools by invisible beings who violate the natural order of things just to bewitch and beguile hapless Homo sapiens who are always looking for something or someone to take charge of their lives. Instead of taking their own lives in their own hands and making the best of it.

One thing you folks will always get from me is honesty. Pure and simple. Last night I was online, placing an advertisement for the new edition of The Four Bloggers of The Apocalypse on one of the sidebars of one of my ten blogs here at Blogger when the lights in my writing room began to flicker, off and on, on and off. My computer screen dimmed and then brightened again, several times. The three green lights on my modem went out and the red one came on. I'd lost my Internet connection. The lights upstairs kept flickering, almost like Morse Code. Hurricane Sandy was still two days away from us, so it wasn't that. A misty rain fell outside and the air was still.

I rushed downstairs and asked my mother (who was watching TV) if the lights had flickered downstairs as well and she confirmed that they had. The TV set was still on but the picture was just snow (white noise). I walked into the den where I have a digital clock on the bar with no battery backup in it. Whenever there is the slightest power interruption, this clock begins blinking 12:00. But, it wasn't blinking and the lights were still flickering all over the house, but not outside, not anywhere in town that I could see. The clock on the bar said a steady 11:11. The current real time for U.S. Eastern Daylight Saving Time (we set our clocks back in Pennsylvania to Standard Time at midnight on Sunday November 4th this year). That's right, 11:11 was the correct time on all the other clocks in the house and on our wristwatches.

When the lights stopped flickering in our house and the TV came back on, the bar clock said 11:12 and this, folks, is a very disturbing but very true story. And, no, I don't like it. I don't like it one damn bit. But what are you going to do? Just like everyone else, I'll keep living my life like always and continue writing and being the primary, at-home caregiver for my 81-year-old mother. And I'll keep trying to become a better person each and every day. I don't need "spirit guides" to tell me that. Living and evolving is all that's required of any of us. Living our lives as best we can, each and every day, while looking forward to tomorrow.

Post updated 5-25-14: Disturbing "otherworldly" phenomena is so prevalent in my life that I often ignore it and put it "on my back burner for later". The following is no exception, except that I actually forgot to blog about it. Why? I suppose it's because I no longer give a shit. I'm more impressed by a passing sun shower. Anyway, here goes. On Veteran's Day, November 11, 2013, I walked outside to look at the sky. I had a feeling that the dark-souled powers-that-be just might pull another 11:11 stunt with me, knowing I would kill them outright if I got the chance. I'm not kidding, either, and they damn well know it. I wasn't expecting an 11:11 blinking clock stunt again or another staccato light show in the house and it's a good thing they didn't try it because NOTHING they do to me is FREE. There will be a payback and it will be fatal FOR THEM, a "second-death fatality", no less.

So, around 6:00 PM or so I looked up at the twilight sky from the entrance to our patio and saw an orange ball ascending from the treetops northeast of me, from where I figured State Game Lands 101 would be, about three miles East North East of my house. I knew it wasn't a plane or a star or a satellite, based on my own late 1960's and early 1970's UFO sightings. It "rose" straight up and then flew toward me, making an angled, directional change of course that no human aircraft could make, not even a helicopter, because there was no sound whatsoever. It split into "two round orange balls" at the point where I figured it would be about halfway between the "10 Acres" area of State Game Land 101 and my house. Then it slowly flew above me at what might have been a thousand feet altitude and on an "ENE to WSW tack". And it made no sound whatsoever, at least none that I could hear.

There was the hint of a dark body to it but I couldn't make out its true shape. No airplane at that altitude could fly so slowly and I've never seen light patterns like that. The two orange ball lights appeared to be at least a hundred yards apart and were situated at the nose, but beneath what appeared to be a dark circular "saucer". Somewhat below those orange balls and at what appeared to be about three hundred yards behind the dark, semi-amorphous shape were two lights that did not blink. A green "starboard" light and a red "port" light, both of them about a fourth the size of the front orange lights, which only glowed. They did not shine. And, the red port and green starboard lights, which ought to have been blinking, were on all the time. What did I do? I gave them the finger, said "Fuck You" to them, told them I wan't afraid of them and then went inside. I had supper to prepare and THAT was the most important thing that evening. NOT playing hide-and-seek with high-tech slime who deserve to be exterminated. And THIS, people, is a true story. No shit.

Sunday, October 14, 2012

Faster-Than-Sound Felix Visits UFO Capital

AussieNaut Felix Baumgartner drops in on Roswell, NM

from 24 miles up. "Watch that first step, Felix. It's a Lulu."

Friday, October 12, 2012

Fairy Tales and Folklore in the Bluegrass State

Pinocchio and The Monster Grendel

prepare to swap stories in Kentucky

Saturday, October 6, 2012

Sad News About Ninth Book

Image Updated 1-8-13
Just as Jonco Bugos (Michael Casher's literary pen name) was very optimistic about completing his second literary novella (and Michael Casher's 9th book), a tragic event occurred. Michael writes all his fiction on a Canon StarWrtiter JET 4000 word processor, not on a computer. "The Truth Is a Lone Assassin" is no exception. When  each book is completed, the chapters get "exported" to another floppy disk that is formatted for his PC. Michael "builds" the book on his PC and uploads the paperback files to his printed book publisher (Lulu.com) and the ebook files to Amazon.com for the Amazon Kindle Store.

Well, we're sorry to break this sad, disturbing news to you but earlier this evening Michael (Jonco) discovered that two of the eight chapters that he'd written so far have been permanently deleted from the word processor's floppy disk. No backup disk was made because Michael ran out of floppys years ago and they're almost impossible to find anymore. That's right. Chapters 1 and 6 mysteriously disappeared from the floppy disk files and no other copies exist.

That's 30 pages of writing down the drain. Not 30 regular pages of science fiction but 30 pages of literary fiction that is not easily written. Those two chapters contained fifteen pages each and cannot be rewritten from memory. As this time, Michael Casher is at a loss as to what to do or say. What's worse is that this isn't the first time this has happened. Fifteen pages of Blind Fool Running vanished from the word processor screen one day in 2007 as Michael (Jonco) was just finishing up a very productive writing session. Three years ago he felt good enough, physically, to rewrite those pages from memory. But not anymore. The first chapter of The Truth is a Lone Assassin took Michael six months to write. And now two crucial chapters are lost forever.

Michael's pretty upset and pretty down, right now. That's all we can say for now. Sorry about that. "The Truth Is a Lone Assassin" was slated for publication in December 2012. Now, we're just not sure about that or if and when that novella will be completed.

January 6, 2013 happy Update to this sad story...

Friday, October 5, 2012

The Obamanation in Wisconsin

The Obamanation rallies in Wisconsin, America's new paradise for whiners.