Thursday, May 28, 2009

Killer Rain#1

It was raining. A steady, almost misty drizzle; gray foggy tendrils wove their way through the shadows. Gusty breezes rocked tree branches, cutting the infrequently spaced streetlamps glare. He loved the rain. He killed, only when it rained. He carefully followed the person he was going to kill tonight. Victim, person, the mark, subject, prey, the noun didn’t matter. He liked people who used umbrellas when it rained, or wore their hats bent low against the wet, which resulted in tunnel vision. They didn’t notice anything or anyone except that which was directly in front of their water soaked faces. Falling drops and wind also made noise, along with shaking tree branches that all but obscured the footsteps of anyone who followed someone, hiding craftily in the shadows. The occasional car or taxi splashing through the water draining to the curb, also helped drown out any footsteps.

The victim walked on one side of the dark street, the killer the opposite, and a hundred paces behind, when one stopped, so did the other. The victim, the prey, did not notice anyone behind them. The mark's mind was only set on one goal, getting out of this eternal rain to a warm dry room, with an old radio, and a few shots of single malt. Perhaps read a book form their meager collection, wrapped in a terry cloth robe.

The killer, assassin, hit man, reaper, and taker of life: those nouns didn’t matter either. He was humming a show tune in his head, “Singing in the Rain”. He closed the distance to about 5 yards, yet the victim failed to notice. The killer liked death up close and personal, the preferred method being the use of a bladed weapon. Silent but deadly, the rain-washing away most of any evidence possibly left behind, not that evidence was likely. The killer was a professional. He killed for money, as a career, and for his own pleasure. The blade, a personal heirloom, was a blackened K-Bar knife, hung handle down in a nylon shoulder rig, under the black trench coat. A black fedora, black jeans, and black athletic shoes made the killer blend into the shadows; no it made the killer a shadow!

Finally the prey arrived home, soaked and fatigued; the 27 blocks feeling like 127. The lonely entrance light was burned out again; a derelict building in the center of a dark block, the nearest streetlamp hundreds of feet away. Fumbling with the keys, trying one after another in the dark. Dropping the whole ring on the wet, dank stoop, then starting to try the keys all over again. It didn’t matter. The killer drew his blade, at the same time wrapping his left arm around the victim’s neck. Not one sound was made. Blood streaked down the steps, washing away in the increasing downpour, following the killer down the sidewalk. The tendrils of fog making him seem to vanish suddenly, until another rainy night and another victim.

Saturday, May 23, 2009

Tick Toc, Tick Toc

A true story

It was a crisp, cool early March morning in Northern Colorado. I decide to hike up the Cache La Poudre River canyon, about a 40-minute drive from my house. I was going to hike a side canyon that I had not been in before. The snow had melted, even at that altitude. The sky was cobalt blue, and air very still.

Pulling well off the road, I enjoyed the quiet, before starting out with my daypack. The side canyon, called Pinion Gulch, angled fairly steeply from the road, rising about 500 feet in elevation after about a mile in. Chickadees, and Jays tweeted in the scrub brush; the red rocks, glowing in the early morning sun. A small herd of Big Horn Sheep skittered rocks on a far slope. The ravine had no trail, but was mostly small bushes, a few cacti, and dried grass.

After hiking North about 2 miles and about 1000 feet in vertical elevation, I spied a waist high boulder and decided to rest, eat a sandwich and drink some cool water from my canteen. As I sat there admiring the beauty of that spring morning, I felt something crawling on my leg, beneath my jeans. I pulled up my pant leg and was shocked to see about a dozen deer ticks scooting about. In Colorado these pests carry Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever, a disease a friend in college managed to catch from just one tick in his bed.

In loathing and disgust, I undid my belt and pulled down my jeans , horrified to see dozens of these foul creatures all over my legs. I pulled up my shirt, they were also on my chest…feeling no shame alone in the canyon, I took off all my clothes piling them on the rock. I lost count at over one hundred ticks. I picked and shook them from my clothing, put on my pack and literally ran downhill to my truck.

Once back, I was not surprised to find dozens more all over me. Heedless to traffic, but on the side of the truck, I disrobed again, de-ticked, and drove home. All the way down the canyon, I picked the little demons from my arms. March is tick month…never again did I hike off trail in the spring, and never again in that canyon. I truly hate ticks.

Monday, May 18, 2009

If I Die Before I Wake

“Time for bed”, shouted Billy’s mom. It was 8:30 PM and a normal, rainy Tuesday evening. Billy finished brushing his teeth, put on his Spider Man pajamas and came into his room, a very clean & organized room, a factor due to his mom’s fetish for neatness, not Billy’s.

Billy automatically knelt beside his bed, next to his mother. Prayers before bed was another of mom’s heartfelt nightly rituals. Tonight, he figured it was his 300,000 nightly prayer…or at least it felt that way to 4-year-old Billy.

Folding his hands, just like mom, he recited the prayer:

Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep;
If I should die before I wake
I pray the lord my soul to take

Lately Billy was starting to wonder about what that prayer meant. What was a soul? Why would he die during the night? What would kill him and take his soul? He kept these doubts to himself. He didn’t think his mom would like the questions, let alone provide an answer. So Billy thought in silence. He was starting to get a little worried about that prayer, maybe even a little scared.

Billy lay in bed, in the dark, wondering, worrying, and getting nervous. He had just remembered something Grandpa told him weeks ago when he broke a vase, by accident, at Grandpa’s cabin. Grandpa had told him the “Boogie Man” would come in the night to take bad little boys. Yeah, that was it, the “Boogie Man”. Maybe he came to kill you and take your soul?

The old house creaked and settled, making familiar, but still scary noises. Billy could not sleep. He imagined “Him” waiting in the dark, perhaps hiding under the bed? Or maybe in the dark closet, whose door Billy was sure, was closed only a moment before.

His soul, where exactly was it? If he could hide it, or protect it during the long dark nights, maybe he would be safe. Perhaps he would not die or have his soul taken by the ”Boogie Man”. A tissue dislodged from the headboard bookcase by an errant breeze, fluttered down and landed on Billy’s face. It felt like the caress of bony dried fingers, the fingers of “Him” coming to take his soul! Billy screamed. He screamed like his life depended on it. He screamed until his mother rushed into the room and turned the light on. The light saved him. That was the key, light! Light to drive out the darkness and the fear. Light to keep the “Boogie Man” at bay.

From that night on, wearing his Spider Man pajamas, and safe with his Spider Man Night Light illuminating the shadows, Billy was no longer afraid for his soul, of dying in the night…nor of that stupid, scary prayer.

Yes, Billy is safe….safe until the power goes out during a thunder storm, or the bulb in his Spider Man Night-Lite stops working! Good night Billy, “Sleep tight, don’t let the bedbugs bite!” Bed bugs?

Friday, May 15, 2009

Various Types of Ghosts

by: Sean M.Clarke

You have read volumes about ghosts and have browsed hundreds of websites to devour more information on ghosts, but have you ever wondered how many types of ghosts there are? The fact is that there are various types of ghosts out there and all these are minutely described and documented by the Spiritual Science Research Foundation (SSRF).

The Spiritual Science Research Foundation has undertaken extensive research on ghosts in order to demystify this widespread phenomenon and help people in recognising and treating the adverse effects caused by ghosts through proven methodology according to the science of Spirituality.

At the outset, it is important to note that while we use the phrase ghosts (demons, devils, negative energies, etc.) as a collective noun to cover the entire gamut of negative energies, there is a vast difference between the lower order ghosts and higher order ghosts such as subtle sorcerers (maantriks) from the sixth and seventh region of Hell. They differ according to their spiritual strength. Ghosts primarily use their spiritual strength to harm humanity.

The generic types of ghosts as identified by the Spiritual Science Research Foundation in ascending order of hierarchy as well as power and strength are:

• Common ghost
• Demons
• Black serpent
• Female goblin
• Jaakhin
• Witch
• Spirit
• Subtle sorcerer

The Hierarchy among Ghosts

There is a hierarchy among ghosts which is based on their spiritual power or strength. Ultimately all ghosts are controlled by subtle sorcerers (maantriks).

Basic shape and form of types of ghosts

The spiritual principle that word, touch, form, taste, smell and its associated energy coexist is also true with ghosts. Depending on their type of energy, they take up generic forms. These forms can however change, depending on what the ghost is trying to achieve. For example, if the ghost is trying to intimidate, it will take up an intimidating form, whereas if it is trying to fool a spiritual healer it may take a form of an angel or a positive energy. They can also take the form of our departed ancestors thus misleading psychics and the people who come to psychics to enquire about departed relatives. This is true in almost all cases.

How does one become a Ghost in the first place?

When a person dies only his physical body ceases to exist. His subtle body however continues to exist and moves on to the other regions of the Universe. Some of these subtle bodies become ghosts. Most ghosts have unfulfilled desires such as cravings for sex, alcohol, revenge, etc. or derive pleasure out of exerting control over and tormenting humans and other subtle bodies. The subtle body of a person after physical death is defined as a ghost if their characteristics and intentions match the above. There is no special process as such which they go through to become a ghost.

How does a Ghost become a particular type of Ghost?

The main reason behind a person becoming a certain type of ghost is due to their predominant personality trait and their predominant thought at the time of death. For example people involved in adversely affecting humanity at large are more likely to become subtle sorcerers (maantriks). On the other hand excessive worldly desires and constantly thinking ill about others may culminate in one becoming a Common Ghost (Bhoot) after death.


The most reliable way of reducing the risk of being affected or possessed by the various types of ghosts, is undertaking spiritual practice as per the 6 basic principles of spirituality. Spiritual practice and spiritual healing remedies, coupled with personality defect removal and eradication of ego are the tools to access supreme protection from God that insulates one from the attack of ghosts as well as helps us proceed to higher regions in the afterlife.

Visit SSRF’s website to explore more on the salient features of the various types of ghosts, view subtle drawings and pictures of various types of ghosts and discover how they can affect our lives:


Tuesday, May 12, 2009

“Ghost Radio” My Review

I finally finished “Ghost Radio”, a very disturbing book of altered states of consciousness and reality. Perhaps of a spirit world or at least a parallel universe, where focus changes and your past may not be real. In the last five years I have often been made aware of such things by family members scoffing at my very clear memories of an event, which they claim never happened or at least not that way. After dozens of such episodes, who would not question their own reality?

Many times, what I confess are very real dreams, occur to me to be possible memories. If this can happen in dreams, perhaps one’s reality awake is merely an altered state…a dream. At least the dead don’t come to visit. I think I have had only one dream where I was “visited” by the dead…good old dad. He looked like a zombie, and left when I told him he was dead and to go away. Of course I have always stayed away from dark things like Tarot Cards, Ojai boards, séances and the like. No dead people I want to speak to! Why would you? It is enough to make one shudder!

And yet, writing this makes me remember another personal ghost story. I stayed at my maternal grandmothers house two weeks every summer, when I was little. The summer after my grandpa died, I am pretty sure he came to visit. I liked sleeping on the screened porch, where it was cool. Before going to sleep, I always locked the screen door, and yet when I got up to use the bathroom or just awoke, it was always unlocked. Finally, getting a little nervous, hey I was about 9 yrs old; I went inside to the bedroom to sleep. Even then I could “feel” someone nearby. I assumed then, and now, it was my grandpa watching over me. I can’t remember ever telling my mom or grandma that story. I guess I have more ghost stories than I thought. Uh huh.

The real "Ghost Radio", give a listen:

Saturday, May 9, 2009

Do you like scary stories? Here is my scary story!

My scary story!

I am currently reading a novel called “Ghost Radio” by Leopoldo Gout. It is a spooky story of voices in the static of radio waves on dark lonely nights. It made me think of this genre. I have read Stephen King, Dean Koontz, and several others, but normally don’t view scary stories as entertainment. I am not sure why, perhaps I am scared. Perhaps I have experienced a dark scary moment or two!

Herein follows a true story. When I was about 21 or 22, a college senior, going through my first divorce, dreading the military draft and other stressful thing of a young life, it happened.

One night I had a dream, the first of many in the decades to come. I was in a disturbing dark place in my dream, a basement, graveyard, woods, etc. “It” began to come after me, darkness, deeper and blacker than the night. A maligned presence, that scarred me to wake up screaming. After a few episodes, my landlady, a nurse, who I also woke up, told me to ask it what it wanted. Huh? I could only imagine it pointing a bony finger at me as shouting “You!” in a gravely voice! What if it was Death, the Reaper? No way.

After a year of widely spaced and increasingly urgent yelling, ”It” kept getting closer to catching me. By then I had moved on, graduation was almost upon me. The draft had been settled by “winning” a high lottery number, never to be called up. I had met a wonderful girl, who eventually became my second wife and mother of my eldest daughter.

Before those nicer times, however, the strangest nightmare of all transpired. Once again, I woke in a cold sweat, strangling in my screams, my girlfriend tried to comfort me. Now fully awake, I noticed I was blind. I could not seem to see my hand in front of my face in the chill, dark room. This was even stranger because the streetlight was just outside my apartment, and normally my room was fairly light. The real strange part was that my now wide-awake girlfriend, also couldn’t see in the pitch black either. OK, I was beyond scared here; it felt to me like a “thing” was taking the light, life, and air from me. I yelled for it to go away and leave us alone. I told my future wife I loved her. Almost instantly the darkness and smothering feel was gone, the streetlight came through the windows. We never spoke about that night much after that. While many dreams of the dark shifting “thing” continued, three or four times per year, for the next 40 years, I never had one quite like that, ever again.

I graduated from college, we moved to Colorado, got married, had our daughter and was happy. On my wife’s 21st birthday, she had a sudden, fatal aneurysm and died. I became a single parent and the loneliness of those days can still be felt. I often wonder to this day, if “It” chose her instead of me. I will always wonder.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Do You Know The Benefits Of Drinking Black Tea?

In 1827 "theine" was discovered. It had close to the same effects as caffeine in coffee and we actually know it as black tea caffeine. As time went on it was discovered that it was actually tantamount to caffeine and so the term has been dropped.

By drinking black tea caffeine a person can receive relief from fatigue. It has been shown to be a stimulant, to increase speed in reaction time, increase alertness, and to improve concentration.

There are also some physical effects. It stimulates the digestive juices, the kidneys, and the metabolism. This means it could help the body eliminate toxins. It also helps the person have an increase in mental alertness, shortens reaction time, and it improves how efficient our reaction time is. Our muscle action is improved, the heart and respiratory system is stimulated, and more oxygen is brought through the body.

A very new study indicates that caffeine can improve brain power performance, reduces the risk of heart disease and many other diseases. Since this is a new study it will need to be confirmed by others before others will jump on its band wagon but for now it looks promising for caffeine. There are still some known bad effects of caffeine if consumed in large quantities. It can lead to heart palpitations, shortness of breath, and insomnia.

There is a difference in the caffeine found in black tea as in comparison to the caffeine found in coffee. That is because there is a lesser amount of caffeine found in black tea. There is about a half or a third as much in black tea as there is in the same amount of coffee. In this way then, you are a lot more unlikely to get too much caffeine when drinking black tea as in comparison to coffee.

There is a confusing aspect in black tea though. When measured in its dry form coffee actually contains less caffeine than tea. When prepared though, coffee contains more caffeine.

The reason for this is somehow related to the processing. It also has something to do with where the tea leaf is grown, the particle size that is used in the tea bag, the way that the tea leaf is cut, and the method and length of brewing or steeping.

It has also been shown that the amount of caffeine per leaf has something to do with where the leaf is located on the plant. The lower the leaf is on the plant the more caffeine it contains. This is because the lower the leaf the more mature it is and the more phytochemicals and substances that naturally occur in the plant.

Black tea has a higher caffeine level than other teas. It is believed to be caused by the way that it is processed. It undergoes full oxidation which does make it have a stronger taste than other teas as well.

Source: - Free Articles Directory

Saturday, May 2, 2009

Apocalyptic Literature

Weather or not you may believe in the End Times, Armageddon, the Apocalypse, or the prophetic date of 12-21-12, many others do. As that prophetic date approaches, there exists a genre of Literature for folks to explore for entertainment and perhaps critical knowledge.

The entire genre of literature is as old as literature itself, for example “The Bible”, full of prophecy, doom & gloom, and hope! I have read hundreds of books in this subject area in the last four decades, and can always find some new, interesting point that differs from the rest.

Forty years ago the themes centered around nuclear war, asteroid strikes, alien invasion, etc. Since the late 1990’s terrorism, war of the worlds, ageless conspiracies, etc. have been added to the mix.

While entertaining, both as books and when made into films with lots of special effects, the themes also bring to light certain skills about survival.

Two of my favorites, “Malevil” and “Farnham’s Freehold” explore core survival skills following a nuclear war. With N Korea, Pakistan, and Iran saber rattling, such a scenario isn’t that far fetched.

Regardless of the “catastrophe” involved, the will to survive and survival skills necessary to accomplish the act are similar. These attributes are the main importance, at least to me, when reading this type of literature. Perhaps it is because I pride myself in having many of these skills.

Here are just a few books I have read in the last forty years, there are many more.

Farnham’s Freehold
Lucifer’s Hammer
Alas, Babylon

Why reinvent the wheel, here is a great list: