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In the old days those chosen by the Lightning were thought to be largely useless, driven mad by their association with dark and powerful spirits. They were cared for because they had been "touched," and were holy, even though the things they did and said often made no sense. Heyoka, the Sacred Clowns, are not healers nor prophets. Our powers are unstable, as apt to go wrong as right. But we are entertaining when we tell our stories, and we are great warriors when it is time for that, and the thunderstorms, our patron spirits, will never destroy the place where we live, so we are handy to have around. I hope my stories make you curious about odd things. If for some reason you begin to lie awake in the witching hours when the night is so thick that it presses in against the window glass, and you sense that something is just beyond the wall, about to come through--be assured it's not me. I'm retired. That doesn't mean there's nothing there. The old knowledge opens doors you cannot see. I am aware that any who read this will see it all to be a confusing and poorly organized mess. I do not experience time as a straight line, so my stories don't fit a linear form. Time is a spiral, a consistent chaotic pattern that repeats without ever being the same, and I do not experience it from beginning to end. It comes to me a piece at a time and out of order. I tell my stories with the same lack of order that brought them to me; this website is my campfire and I will talk about whatever comes to mind. I accept that I will not know all that is to know; I ponder what is given and I search for more. As you read, you may agree that what at first sounds incoherent and illogical does eventually make sense, and this piece does fit here, and that one there. As more and more pieces link together, the pattern of the puzzle will emerge. If you follow the tracks that mark the trail I took, you will someday arrive at a place where you see the thing that I see. That's unlikely to give you comfort. |
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The Archives Wilson's Creek -- OK, don't change history -- wait, where's the Arkansas regiment? New New York -- Checking out the Big Apple in 2013. The Anasazi -- Home is just ten thousand years away. The Calling -- An offer of total freedom -- and oh yeah, maybe it kills you . . . Psi Games -- If the world had no walls, where would you go? Fundamental Remote Viewing -- A beginner's how-to for clairvoyance. The Owl -- White birds, sweat lodge and Joe's strange visitor. Collecting Foreign Objects -- Be careful what you ask for, when you speak to aliens. Perfect Family--It seemed like a nice place to come home to, if maybe you were somebody like Stephen King. Old Roads (Iktomo's Highways)--growing up on the Trail of Tears, I always wanted to know what was over the next horizon. First Contact—I have some unusual visitors one night and things cease being normal; on the flip side, somebody starts painting stories in the air. Grandfather's Ride in Space—some people say that Antonio Villa Boas was the first abductee; grandpa gave him a run for the money. Black Time—Some say it's missing but I say it's gone and I know where. Seeing Energy—Tips on looking for the impossible. Vril 7—Not everyone I meet at night is a little gray alien. Sighting—Sure has been a long time since I saw a UFO -- wait, what's that thing? The Academy—Secret schools and military shamanic training. The Ship—Jumping ahead for a brief look at the Mothership. Coming of Age—I'm given a clue that will be really important in oh, forty more years. The Golden Temple—Secrets of the universe seem unimportant compared to pretty girls and short unisex tunics. The Crash—When the DNA capsule explodes, the first thing I do is drown. . |
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