Mesmeric Remote Viewing
Mainstream Medicine confines consciousness to MEAT.
The five senses are prisoners of MEAT.
Nerves are MEAT, and if you think otherwise, you’re a fraud, according to the Golden Stethoscope Cartel.
Modern-day scientists almost universally suffer from the same common disease — Anal Cranial Inversion Syndrome.
On the other side of the paradigm, there are 21st Century Medical Intuitives.
Edgar Cayce, the Sleeping Prophet, is spinning in his grave.
Zé Arigó, the Surgeon of the Rusty Knife, is spinning even faster.
Most of today’s Medical Intuitives couldn’t intuit themselves out of a paper bag.
I was obsessed with Edgar Cayce (1877-1945) in junior high school.
I read everything I could about him, only a few books at the time.
Jess Stearn didn’t write his famous book till 1967, twelve years later.
Thomas Sugrue (There Is a River: The Story of Edgar Cayce, 1942, 1945) wrote …
“Edgar Cayce practiced medical diagnosis by clairvoyance for forty-three years. He left stenographic reports of 9,000 of these diagnoses to the Association for Research and Enlightenment, Inc., along with hundreds of complete case reports, containing affidavits by the patients and reports by physicians.”
Little did I know back in 1955 that authentic Edgar Cayce-style clairvoyance was commonplace.
But if no one gets Mesmerized anymore, how would we know?
Spencer Timothy Hall (Mesmeric Experiences, 1845) wrote …
“In the winter of 1843-4, Dr. Willson Cryer, a very candid and dispassionate inquirer, at Bradford, and Mr. W. Prest, brought several striking cases to my notice there. One was that of a poor weaver-boy who, notwithstanding his sad deficiency of education, would display, when in the mesmeric trance, as accurate a knowledge of the internal anatomy of the human body, as if he had been a well-schooled physiologist. At times his lucidity was marvellous, even to a mesmerist; and I always noticed that it was much more exalted when occurring spontaneously than when hastened by our own eagerness, and was exceedingly liable to be influenced by the minds of those about him; so that when tested in an improper spirit, he would reflect the impropriety. On one occasion, Mr. Andrews, an eminent architect residing in the neighbourhood, was desirous that I should mesmerise a subject of this class, for the purpose of obtaining a diagnosis of a disease from which his lady had been suffering for a long period, and under which she was fast sinking, without the Faculty being able to relieve or even define it. We have the most incontestible grounds of confidence that the little weaver-boy, whom I selected for this occasion, knew nothing of Mrs. Andrews or her disease previously; nor of the interior of the house in which she resided: it is even questionable if he had noticed the existence of it before. It was arranged that nothing should be said regarding her disease and its previous treatment, so that it was impossible he could speak by virtue of any inference drawn from that source, but from his own direct perceptions alone; since not a hint was given him as to the seat of pain, either before or while in the sleep. When I had mesmerised him by the ordinary mode of contact, he went immediately towards Mrs. A., and described her condition at the moment with an accuracy that astounded her; nor was her astonishment lessened when he proceeded to tell her, as minutely as if he had kept a regular diary of her case from the first, how her disease began; how it proceeded; how many, and what kind of doctors she had consulted; and what advice they gave her, with the effect of their various treatment, &c., defining, with the utmost accuracy, every feature of the case from first to last, and what course it was necessary for her then to pursue, to prevent an extension of the disorder. Having done this, and being left to himself for a few seconds, he suddenly exclaimed that he could see all that was going on in the kitchen — into which room he had never been — describing the dresses of the people in it, the form and colour of a dog lying near the fire, and various other matters. Next he said he could see every plant in the greenhouse, beyond the kitchen — although the greenhouse had never been named, and Mr. Andrews declared the boy could never have been in or seen it. He described the relative position of all the plants, as clearly as if he had himself been a party to their arrangement; and at last coming to one that especially pleased him, he was expatiating upon it, when Mr. A. asked him what was the character of the plant rising next to that he was so admiring, when he replied, with a smile, ‘Why, if you’ll just grasp it in your hand, you’ll know more about it than you wish, without learning o’ me.’ ‘Right, my boy,’ said Mr. Andrews: ‘it is a prickly cactus.’ The same evening, being invited to meet a few of the most respectable residents, at a party given by Mr. Foster (a member of the Society of Friends), I took this boy with me, when he was no less strikingly accurate in his description of the cellars and chambers of the house (in which he never could have been), noting many things accidentally out of place, as well as others not usual in the places they there occupied, so minutely as to leave no doubt, in the minds of many who had hitherto remained sceptical regarding the higher phenomena of mesmerism, that he was perfectly lucid. It was quite clear to me, from what I have seen in the case of this boy and others, that not only are magnetic patients often cognisant of the forms and hues of the distant objects they describe, but of all their other properties. Thus, when on one occasion he was speaking of a bottle which he said he saw wrapped up, in a room over his head, he was asked what it contained. His reply was, ‘Wait while I’ve tasted,’ and having gone through the ideal process of tasting, he accurately described its contents. He said at Mr. Andrews’ that he could feel the prickly cactus, and seemed to shrink with the fear of being in too close contact with it. On another occasion, when ideally rambling on the hills outside the town, during a snow, he said he felt chilled — although really in a very warm room — and his lips assumed a livid hue, that indicated the propriety of instantly changing his condition.”
Did you take the Blue Pill last night?
Did you forget what Morpheus told you? …
“You take the blue pill, the story ends. You wake up in your bed and you believe whatever you want to believe.”