As I walked back into my office, Zaza said, "I thought you were going to Palo Alto."
"I did," I replied. "These people are fast company."
"Is there going to be an address in Palo Alto where I send flowers to?" Zaza inquired sarcastically.
"No, this is going to be 100% business."
"Mr. Bracken said to stop in when you got back." Zaza said. "Shall I check to see whether he is available?"
"Yes."
"You can go right now," said Zaza after a brief telephone conversation.
Phil greeted me with a smile, stood up from his desk, walked to his leather office couch, motioned for me to sit in an adjacent chair, and said, "Tell me about our new client."
"They are really fast company and seem to be able to make fast decisions. They hold meetings that are three and a half minutes long and make important decisions in a snap."
Phil smiled and said, "Vince used to be a Navy jet pilot, the top-gun type. He is trained to quickly assess things, make decisions, and take action. If someone fires an antiaircraft missile at you, you don't have time for a staff meeting; you simple begin evasive maneuvers. If you are coming in for a landing, all the gauges on the instrument panel suddenly drop to zero, all the red lights go on, and the flight controls stop working, you hit the eject button. It pays for a jet pilot to be decisive.
"If he hadn't liked you or failed to have an immediate feeling of confidence in you, he would have fired you on the spot. Congratulations! You have a client."
"Dore seems to be the same. I don't think she blinked her eyes for the first fifteen minutes of our meeting. I doubt that I will hear you complaining about an indecisive client."
"What do you think about the case so far?"
"I can handle it, but I will be a little uncomfortable about the subject matter for a while. Steve Manteo is a highly credentialed and decorated remote sensing psychic spy from the US cold war intelligence effort. He tried to help in a Search and Rescue mission in the Sierras. He told the Sheriff exactly where the lost girl was. The Sheriff blew him off and had him escorted off the premises. The search and rescue operation searched the wrong area, and the lost girl was found frozen to death later in exactly the place where the Steve predicted. The parents of the girl have a civil case against the county and the Sheriff, alleging that the Sheriff was negligent for not using all the resources available to him.
"I will have to show that remote sensing is a scientifically valid way to locate a missing person: Steve Manteo was qualified to find the girl and that he was correct in what he told the Sheriff."
Phil observed, "I sense you are a little uncomfortable with all this."
"Frankly," I replied, "I am a little bit afraid I will lose my scientific credibility among my peers in the patent law crowd. I might become the topic of jokes among my peers. Colson assures me that the scientific validity is there. Dore is making the introductions for me to meet with people who have been doing research in the field."
"Dave, we assigned you to this because if anyone can make the scientific case, you can. Let me know if you start to feel that there is not a good scientific case. We can pass the case off to one of the firms that specialize in legal circuses. Colson said he didn't want to go that way. He wants to establish the scientific validity of this psychic stuff, as well as help the distressed parents.
"Keep me informed," Phil said as he rose from sitting, signaling the end of the meeting.
I was sweating, and my hands were wet. I was apprehensive about where this was taking my career.
As I returned to my office, Zaza asked, "Are you a bad boy? You look white."
'No, everything is fine,' I lied and thought, what in the world have I got into?
I checked my email, then googled Remote Sensing. After reading a while, I thought of channeling and then thought of Tina. I texted her the message that I'd like to find out about channeling.
As I was about to leave the office, I got a call from Tina. "I'd be delighted to introduce you to channeling. You are in luck. One of the best, Herondus, is having an evening of channeling Friday night at a hotel down by the airport. I have a staff meeting after school, but I can meet you there. It starts at 8:00."
"Great!" I replied. "Want to make it dinner too?"
"Can't. I wouldn't be able to get there until after seven. I'll meet you in the lobby. Oh, by the way it costs fifty bucks."
"No problem," I replied. "My treat."
"In that case it will be one hundred bucks," she said with a giggle. “I have to go now. I'll see you in the main ballroom lobby of the Adventure Hotel about 7:30 on Friday. Bye."
"Bye," I replied as she hung up. She didn't seem very friendly. I wished I could see her. I felt a little bit empty.
Friday at 7:30, I was in the main ballroom lobby of the Adventure Hotel on Century Boulevard, the street that runs parallel to the runway at LAX. The hotel was one of the better ones at LAX. It had changed hands after the financial crash in 2008, had recently reopened after being remodeled and updated, now with a European-modern feel with backlighted glass panels, chrome fixtures, and chrome legged lobby chairs. I peeked in the ballroom and was surprised that it would seat several hundred people. A few people, early birds, were seated near the front, hands in lap, eyes closed, gently smiling: apparently meditating. Soft New Age music played. A door attendant said I couldn't go in until I had registered, and pointed to a table behind which two ladies were collecting money and credit cards and having people sign what looked like a legal form. I was surprised the people who were registering were very normal looking. Some were professionals in business clothes, others in jeans, and casual attire. Many looked as if they bought their clothes at those trendy stores on Melrose Avenue, where you can buy jeans with holes in the knees for a hundred-fifty dollars. I noticed two ladies with long brunette hair, combed straight, hair much longer than it might be naturally, and probably weaved at some expensive Beverly Hills shop.
This is not New Age,'I thought, I had been expecting people to look more like the clerks in the health food store.
I saw Tina approaching, accompanied by another woman who was taller than Tina, with short black hair, in a kind of pixie cut, maybe in her early thirties, looking kind of academic, but with soft, friendly eyes They both were dressed as though they had come from a college classroom, in jeans, sneakers, and sweaters over simple tops.
The old wingman trick, I thought. Women appear with a friend when they need protection from unwanted advances or conversations.
Tina walked up and gave me a kiss on the cheek and a firm hug and backed away to make the introduction.
"Dave, this is Elise Burton. Elise, This is Dave Willard."
"Hi Dave," said Elise, "Tina has told me all about you,"
I felt a little naked.
"Elise did her dissertation on the study of about fifty channels who have meetings around the LA area. Herondus is on the top of her list. If you want to know a lot more about channeling she is a good person to talk to. We had better register and stake out some good seats."
I quickly walked over and got in line for the registrar. Elise was behind me. When the registrar looked at me, I said "Three" and produced my credit card.
She ran my card and gave me three of the legal forms, which were also tickets, and brochures of upcoming events. I handed one to Elise and one to Tina. Elise looked shocked.
"You didn't have to...." started Elise, rolling her eyes.
"Yes he did..." interrupted Tina smiling broadly as she walked over, took my arm affectionately, and steered me to the entrance.
"All for research," I said, as we walked through the door to the ballroom.
The ambiance of the room was electric, like the crowd at a big football game waiting for the kickoff, or in a theater anticipating the start of a highly–acclaimed action movie. Old friends were greeting each other affectionately. Everyone was smiling and introducing themselves to people around them. It looked like many of the people were Holl
ywood types, the behind-the-camera kind. I saw an actor I recognized-probably from some sitcom-but didn't know his name. There seemed to be slightly more women than men. We sat down in a middle row, Tina next to me, Elise next to her.
Tina patted me on the knee, smiled, whispered, "I didn't tell Elise about Mason," and then put her hands in her lap, closed her eyes and apparently began to meditate.
'That's a relief,' I thought. I looked at the brochure. Tonight's topic was "The Logic of Illogic."
I thought, I think I am being sandbagged.
The lady sitting next to me smiled and said, "Hello, I am Marilyn, isn't this exciting! Where are you from?"
"I don't live far from here," I replied. "How about you?"
"You're lucky-I'm from Vancouver. Are you here for the weekend workshop?"
"No, I am only here for this evening. This is my first time to one of these events."
She beamed, "How nice. In an evening, you will get some amazing information. However, in a weekend your life can change in some important ways."
I looked at the brochure and saw that tonight's session was a precursor to a two-day program, New Ways To Think About Thought, which cost nine hundred dollars to attend. I thought, These people are serious. I had always thought this New Age stuff was for hippies and bored housewives with nothing else to do but go to yoga classes and sit on the floor in cross-legged postures wearing designer yoga outfits. As I scanned the room, I calculated that the gross from this event was probably something like a quarter-million dollars.
Then, the room started to get quiet. The lights lowered, and a man walked onto the stage smiling and greeting people in the audience. He sat down in a comfortable chair in the middle of a small stage. Next to the chair on a table was a large bouquet of flowers, obviously the product of an upscale florist.
He sat down and picked up a microphone and smiled as he looked around the room. "It is a pleasure to back in Los Angeles and see so many old friends. But, you didn't come here to hear me so I will get out of the way and let Herondus come through. He closed his eyes and placed his hands in his lap. All was silent for about two minutes, and then he smiled, picked up the microphone, with his eyes still closed and said:
"Greetings on this evening as you know time to exist. It is always a delight to visit with you in this space-time here, now, in what you call Los Angeles. Some of you have come from what you call far and others from what you call near, but it is a pleasure to share this group energy, a bright spot in space-time. Some have been sharing thoughts with us for years, and others are here for the first time: we welcome you all, to tonight and for those of you who will be staying the weekend. We have exciting things to share with you about what you call thought."
He paused and turned his head from side-to-side and then continued:
"But first, let us do a melding of all our energy. This is not a meditation. This is a chance for us to quietly spend a few moments with each of you. Close your eyes and sit relaxed while we greet each of you."
The soft music came on as I closed my eyes. I was thinking about Tina and then wondering about Elise, and then my mind and body relaxed. For a moment I felt a surge of energy, kind of like joy, but not exactly, and then felt very peaceful, and my attitude of cautious judgment disappeared. After a few minutes, the music went down and I heard Herondus say:
"You can open your eyes again."
Tina squeezed my hand.
Herondus continued:
"The logic of illogic. That is the kind of word construction of ideas, that you can have in your civilization, which we love. One idea swallows another in the same sentence.
"Many on your planet think that logic is the highest form of thought. It is only something that your human species uses to deal with the physical universe. Logic does not exist in the structure of the physical universe: it is an overlay that your physical brain uses to interpret what you perceive as your surroundings. The physical universe existed in the way it is long before your species acquired what you call logic through genetic evolution. In the vastness of what you call the space of the universe, and in the spaces within atoms, there is no such thing as logic. Logic is created in specific parts of your physical brain as your scientists are now exploring with what you call MRIs. People who have that part of their brain damaged can no longer think or act logically.
"The lion chasing prey, in what you call Africa, does not think logically, saying to herself, 'If I run this way the prey will run that way and then I can corner them over there.' The lion simply chases its prey without any internal verbal dialog.
"Logic, language, or symbols only exist in your physical brain. They are a product of activities in other parts of your physical brains."
"That which you call your subconscious mind, and your spirit level, is where all your true thinking occurs. You, the spirit, think in abstract ideas, concepts, and pictures, and have no language, as you know it. There are not English speaking, Spanish speaking, or Russian speaking subconsciousnesses or spirits. Language is added by parts of your brain. The human brain is a physical part of the body. You as spirit, resident in a body, communicate ideas, concepts, and pictures to your physical brain that then translates them to language and logical structure. When your body speaks, it is expressing a translation of an abstract idea. When your body hears another person speak, your brain translates the language to the abstract form understood by the spiritual you.
"In our world we are only what you would call spirits, we are in a non-physical realm. We can create the idea of an apple tree at will without going out to find one. If we want an apple we can create the idea of it in our hand, which we also create.
"In your physical world, if you want an apple, you must create a sequence of events that align with your logical view of the physical universe. If you want an apple, you must logically figure out where an apple is and then devise a logical strategy to go where it is and get it. If you find an apple tree, then you must logically figure out how to climb to pick the apple.
"You, as a spirit can create realities through what you call your imagination. You can close your eyes and imagine an apple tree, climb it, get an apple and eat it. If you have a good imagination, you can even taste the apple. Spirit and your imagination aren't bound by logic.
"Many, let us say, of your tribes and cultures, some as large as nations, live according to ideas of thousands of years ago. If someone of note said something centuries or millennia ago many follow that idea without questioning it, even though the idea or practice is no longer relevant to the time-space they now live in. The idea is a rule, held in place with the logic that if you disobey, something bad will happen to you.
"You also use logic to create abstractions of physical reality in mathematics. Your engineers have used logic to create what you call computers that use logic in their hardware and software to conduct physical tasks, communicate, and bring you music, and pictures and stories on what you call television. Your computers don't think or feel: they do immense manipulations of logical elements you call bits; they are the ultimate form of logic.
"Spirits don't need to create the abstraction; they can simply create the reality. Logic and language are, therefore, just a method of dealing with your limitations of physical reality.
"Spirit (or your subconscious) operates in a pre-symbolic non-symbolic realm. It creates ideas your brain circuits and your brain ware (all the stuff you have learned from your family or school) translates the idea into speech or symbols you draw, write, or type.
"Questions! We have given you a lot, of what you say on your planet, to chew on. For those of you who are here for the first time, let us say, the first three rows are for those of you who think you may have questions. If you have a question, please raise your hand, and our assistant will give you a microphone."
A man in a business suit raised his hand, waited for the microphone, and asked, "Some of our country's most important documents, such as the Declaration of Independence and our Constitution, d
epend on logic. Our society couldn't run without those guides. Aren't they our highest thinking?"
Herondus answered: "Those are, indeed, important documents for your civilization. The logic is in the expression of the ideas. The pre-symbolic thinking that the authors did before writing those was on the conceptual level: the meaning of rights, equality, freedom, etc. They added the logic as they put pen to paper."
A woman with long red hair raised her hand, was given the microphone, and asked, "When I am thinking a problem out, I talk to myself, and logically discuss about what I am going to do. Isn't that my highest form of thinking?"
Herondus answered: "Your subconscious is giving you the ideas that your brain and brain ware converts to sub vocal speaking. The subconscious thinking happens during the sub-vocal dialog between parts of yourself."
About ten people asked questions and received answers. Then, Herondus said, "We do not want to get, as you say, too technical about what is what kind of thinking. We want to emphasize that what may seem logical to you is not necessarily true, because what you believe is logical depends on your education or training, your brain–ware.
"Once, in your space-time, the idea of a round earth was unacceptable: there was a set of logic that assured everyone that the world was flat.”
Herondus looked at his watch and said, "Now, we would like to take a ten-minute break, and, when you come back, we will take you on a meditation."
All was quiet until the man doing the channeling opened his eyes and looked blearily around the room.
Everyone then hurried from the room or began talking to friends. I excused myself and went to the bathroom. As I was returning, I ran into Tina and Elise in the ballroom lobby.
"What do you think about Herondus?" Tina asked with an air of excitement.
"Frankly, I am a little overwhelmed. He has given me a lot to think about. Can I get a recording of the session?"
"It will be available from his website in about a week. The web address is on the meeting flyer," added Elise.
"We should go back in now," said Tina.
In a few minutes, Herondus began again:
"On your planet you have the idea of Superheroes, which appear in comic books, TV, and in your movies. Many of them have magic shields to deflect gunfire, laser beams, and other projectiles. Many on your planet use logic as your shield, to give you a certainty against all ideas that do not agree with your beliefs.
"Your radio and television political commentators can project great certainty that opposing viewpoints are wrong through logic, although their opposing counterparts can speak with equal certainty that their opponents are idiots. These certainties prevent real discourse or dialog where one party attempts to understand the viewpoint of others.
"On an interpersonal level, you may often find the people who demonstrate great certainty about what they know, are using that certainty as a shield to prevent anyone from knowing who they really are. Logic can be a great shield to prevent someone from finding out that deep-deep down inside you have some shame or that you believe you are not good enough.
"We will continue dialoging on that subject throughout this weekend. But now, it is time for a meditation."
The lights came down and Herondus led everyone through a guided meditation: Going to a meadow, sitting under a tree, and then proceeding through and exploration of the surroundings. I fell asleep after the first few minutes.
At the end of the session, as we were standing up ready to leave, it was apparent that Tina was leaving with Elise: the wingman thing was in play.
I said to Elise, "I would like to have lunch with you to discuss your research. It could be important to some work I am doing."
Tina smiled her approval.
Elise replied, "It will have to be tomorrow."
"I can do that," I said.
Elise gave me her card, and I said I would call her at home in the morning.
As we all exchanged hugs, I noticed that Tina's wasn't as stiff as when we met before the meeting.