— Bob-a-job-alog-a-roonie

20 odd years ago I used to get hangovers and after a night of dodgy whisky in Koh Samui I was wandering along a beach with the worst hangover ever.  My peripheral vision kept on seeing neon monkeys (or perhaps sprites as in DMT)… When I looked directly at them they disappeared. I have never experienced this before or since.

2018 and I haven’t had a hangover in a decade.  Clever body has adjusted. I’m still dehydrated and a bit unfocussed, but I don’t “suffer” a hangover, and it affects my day not at all.

I did have a big last night, and was at the Bowlo late arvo, a few beers in me. On my way to the bar I said hi to two people sitting by the green. I walked directly inside and those two people were already inside, separate, in conversations. I walk back outside and they weren’t there, and neither was the table they had been sitting at.

I had never experienced anything like this before. I have ruled out mental illness, it is not a good fit for this experience.

Weeks later I am in Kagoshima walking along a very busy 4 lane road for 2 hours.  Bored, I decide to see if I can spot a Mitsubishi Mirage, my car at home.  After 2 hours I didn’t see a single Mitsubishi car. Which should be impossible, they are made in Japan.  The next day, in Beppu, I see 2 in the first minute. This glitch seems to be personal, as I saw every other car make in Kagoshima, even two Maserati. I was “technically” very hungover.

Two days later in Beppu, technically very hungover, I am on a bus in the morning. Two elderly ladies sit directly in front of me. One drops her water bottle and I almost pick it up for her but she beats me to it. I’m not paying a lot of attention, I’m watching the town go by out the window. The middle-aged couple directly in front of me, the woman raises the window blind and it hits her hat.

Then I see the elderly women leaving the bus and crossing the road. Seems that two different sets of people had been sitting in front of me at the same time. All seats were taken when they left, they hadn’t shifted seats, nor would they. And the middle-aged couple had not only just turned up.

I may be witnessing glimpses of a parallel universe. Or the Matrix could be glitching. I am not mad, and not making anything up.  After the Koh Samui episode I coined the phrase “The Metaphysical Aspects of a Hangover” and I think I am not wrong. Unfortunately to study this further I will need to get dangerously drunk. $7 bottles of whisky in Japan will help…

These are only the cases I have noticed. Numerous times I think people appear/disappear but I have been putting it down to not paying attention.

The only other similar experiences have been on LSD. I sensed it was a way of seeing the true underlying structure of reality. I might be creating similar experiences without a drug. I’m going to take this as far as I can. Worst case scenario I will go mad. Best case, I’ll work out some really important shit about reality.

UPDATE: My son told me of a similar glitch on a school camp, where an object (that had been creeping him out) moved to another room on its own. He provided plenty of detail and I believe him.

ANALYSIS

These glitches cannot be a glimpse of a whole parallel universe, because too many other things would be different as well.

The glitch only involves something or someone interacted with or consciously thought about.

That thing or person is replaced or moved. This information (unless I am mad) for the thing or object must come from a parallel universe, the past or the future. Possibly all three are essentially the same thing anyway.

The possibility of such glitches (and belief in my case) means that many paranormal things could be explained as being the same phenomena…

  • UFOs could be a glitch from the future where the sky is full of such craft
  • Yetis and the Loch Ness Monster could be a creature from the past
  • Ghosts could be real people from the past, and activated by people thinking a place is haunted

Which then brings up the question of evidence. Had I been filming my glitches, what would be on the film? A camera isn’t conscious, can’t interact, and therefore is not a participant in the glitch. The glitch would not be filmed. So, no evidence, but it would help the experiencer to know the camera didn’t see it.

There’s also the issue of why/how this is happening. I presume it happens all the time, and it is just rare to notice it. Or only certain people experience it, like the 1% of people who see UFOs or are shaman/witches.

If we live in a simulation, then these are discrete objects being momentarily swapped in and out – a simulation would work at object level.

If this is not a simulation, then nature itself is object based. Bodies of objects like the sea and beaches (billions of water and sand objects) don’t count. So if one piece of sand glitches, or a drop of water, nobody will notice. But nature must consider a person to be a single object, and not a collection of smaller objects (organs, blood or even atoms).

 

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Drinking Japanese whisky at 7am. Mini mid-life crisis. Owning the situation

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If I were to win Lotto, I’d start a business or two or three. I’m not convinced enough by any of these to do them unless I can afford for them to fail.

Man.Bag –  a shop that just sells bags (and I guess wallets and belts and hats) for men. Whenever I feel like a new shoulder bag or backpack I have to visit like 20 stores and I’m still frustrated.

Bob’s Robots – nobody buys robots at present except for vacuums and toys. Ten years from now people will be buying robots like they buy cell phones today. First in can own the space. Yep, have a robot shop before anyone is buying them.

Munch – grab and go food. No tables and chairs. Every food item is $4 for basic and $8 for gourmet. Think burgers, pies, chips, hot dogs, chicken.

Hamburgers.me – reinventing the burger. Burgers that are thinner and wider for easier eating. Fewer layers: Bun, Choose your Lettuce, Vegetables in a fritter, Cheese in the patty. Choose your Sauce.

Great fish and chips – There is no such thing as a very successful fish and chips chain. Needs to be done.

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I’ve done the impossible before, so these are not madness:

  • Sell my drone idea to Google
  • Defeat Facebook
  • Make my offline digital ID idea a reality
  • Defeat AI
  • Find love again
  • Create a feasible digital currency
  • Prove that I have found Noah’s Ark
  • Guide my kids with all of my heart
  • Stay healthy
  • Gamify world peace

 

 

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A documentary is aired (in the fictional story and as a teaser to the TV series) about a mysterious facility that has been discovered in Nevada. It is mostly found footage from a documentary maker who has disappeared. The person who edited and produced it has also disappeared.

“The Scar” is an abandoned mine with a strange structure built on top of it. Like a large concrete auditorium or gymnasium, it is featureless on the outside and inside except for four things: a 3-foot high door for entering it, and a massive mural on the ceiling. The mural is of what looks like a cauterised wound, a fissure or a scar.  And the roof is painted to match the surrounding desert. From above the structure is perfectly camouflaged. It is in a small low valley, where it is not visible from local known places. The fourth thing is a giant metal trap door in the floor with no visible means of opening it. An esoteric symbol is on the door.

Google Maps clearly shows how well disguised it is, but aerial photos from 1948 show what lies beneath the building, before it was built – a scar in the ground identical in shape and size as the mural.

Local (ranchers?) are interviewed, they all say it used to be a mine (and describe it with the same words, like what they heard came from the same source) and they have all heard various rumours:

It was a retreat for crazy artists
Survivalist bunker
Nuclear test site
Prison for domestic terrorists
Set for a movie about aliens that was never released
Hellmouth

THE TV SERIES

The first four episodes are each about people who saw the documentary and felt compelled to go find The Scar and solve the mystery. We see their background, why it interests them, what they are risking (family, friends, jobs, school) if they get caught or make fools of themselves. And see their visit to The Scar. Each discovers something new about the place, and each doesn’t return.

5. (Earlier) A scientist, high up in the military, decides to blackmail his superiors. He has abandoned his job and taken secret files with him.

6. (Earlier)  Military officials decide to call his bluff with a documentary where they control the information – disinformation. At the same time a massive manhunt is under way with orders to shoot to kill.

7. (Earlier) The scientist leaves copies of the files with his cousin, a young woman, asking her to release them if she never hears from him again. She never hears from him again.

And then….

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I spent 3 years in a backpacker hostel in Edinburgh. Every day 40 new people would check in, roughly half of them women. Young, adventurous women.

In those 3 years I fell in love 3 times.

At a remote YHA in Wales, which I absolutely loved, according to the guestbook, one female stayed per week.

I was tempted to get a local job and live there, but the odds were against it. To fall in love again would take hundreds of years…

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[1991, during the Edinburgh Festival]

Up at 9. Went with “Pops” (Peter, the hostel owner) to see a play at noon. He seemed to select me as his backpacker pal of the day. I feel a little bit uncomfortable around him, he has this eerie, maybe sexual presence. And he looks exactly like Boris Becker. His clothes are all from the hostel lost property, and he drives a very old, falling apart car. Yet he’s also very rich. I can’t see the point in getting to know such a confusing male. And I still haven’t worked out where he lives, he’s always present. Then I ran to Greyfriars cemetery for “Lord of the Rings” performed outdoors. A storm had commenced, the audience got drenched, and we witnessed the creepy synchronicity of lightning and thunder sounding as if on cue, as Gandalf made doomful speeches. Then night, and the British premier of a NZ film “Meet the Feebles” a puppet splatter movie, a Muppets send-up, by Peter Jackson. It wasn’t brilliant, but at the end En, Paul, Rob, Karl and I gave it a standing ovation. Karl is Rob’s drummer, has recently flown over to rejoin the band, and was one of the puppetteers of the film. Wow, I’m hanging out with media stars! I was all ready for another 3am sleep, but En had organised a climb of Arthurs Seat to watch the sunrise.

“No way En, I’m knackered. I’m sure the sun will rise again in the future sometime”

“Not a problem”, he says, “the other’s will keep me company“, slurring that last word. Then

“Hack, meet Carlos, Johanna and Louisa they’re from the Basque country”

“Eh?”

“It’s between Spain and France. And this is Amy, she’s from California.

Hi, hi, hi, hi. Right are we all ready? I was still awake enough to notice that there were three guys and three girls. And En is spoken for. Carlos might already have something going, but that still leaves two, high on Arthurs Seat, legendary site of romantic conquest.

The night gave us a rare view of the entire Milky Way. Unusual in any city. Louisa didn’t speak English very well, so Carlos was going for her. She was the pretty one. Yohanna was loud, brash and brazen, and attractive in a handsome way. Any relationships would be initiated by her, she was mostly leading our expedition. And Amy was just too sugary and innocent, numbed into silence by the cold, most probably regretting coming. We made the summit at 4:30 and then waited, and waited. En’s half bottle of whiskey was shared and went. Conversation came to a halt. We initially just sat on rocks, waiting. Then the cold killed any shyness, we crammed into a crevice, and had a group cuddle, then slowly watched our faces appear with morning. Except Amy who was almost in the crevice, but on her own, turning blue. En and I would estimate when the sun would come up, and did that many times over before it did. The suns in Scotland are very slow. At the precise moment, our soft observance was interrupted by a hardy Scotsman in kilt and bare legs, who reached the summit with pinpoint timing, drew a long breath from the horizon, then ambled off down the other side leaving a cloud of frozen exhalations. We kept watching until the colours stopped changing, then stiffly walked home.

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Rightly or wrongly I have found the floppy disks containing my 1st memoirs, from more than 20 years ago.

And found a way of getting a Microsoft Write file from a floppy disk into a Mac Mini into readable form. Lesson learnt.

It is big, rambling and amateur/different. But if I ever get famous or have grandkids, there might be a small audience. A truly random excerpt now, and example of how heaps of editing could help.

 

Bus to the outskirts. Almost snow and below zero. First ride was a huge long US stationwagon. Left hand steering. He’s fully bearded bushy, in a black fisherknit jumper and jeans, late 30’s, scarred face and tats. Looks like a cross between a Hell’s Angel and a sailor. He didn’t ask where I was going, in fact didn’t speak at all for 90 minutes. Just put on a Sex Pistols tape and drove. Then Dire Straits, then Whitesnake. Then he asks me “Do you smoke drugs?”. Of course I do. He says “pub first while we’re straight” and buys me some beer. Then in the car he gets out his “oil”. Cannabis I presume, which I haven’t seen before. He puts 6 spots on some tinfoil and we suck the fumes, lighter underneath. My cold restricts me, and I can’t hold it in too long, but the effect is fairly immediate and is full on after an hour. No hallucinations, but feeling detached from my numb body. My nose and mouth completely tranquillised. Didn’t get paranoid, just slightly paranoid that I might get paranoid. Again we didn’t talk, until Kaikoura. Another pub break. I went in first while he looked for something in his boot. I was dumb – literally, and when I didn’t reply to the barmaids “what can I get you”, the 4 regulars just stared at me and I was looking pretty spaced I guess. He arrived just in time, and ordered my drink, which I drank with great difficulty, seeing as my face was all numb. More driving, and 3 more spots each. Just as we hit the section of the road that winds steep and sharp bends… I basically endured an hour long rollercoaster, my belly trying to control my subconscious. He offered to sell me some oil, and even if I had the money to spare, still would’ve said no. Too intense for me man.

 He let me off in Blenheim at 2:30, and I tried hitching to Picton. Occasionally a local would tell me that I was wasting my time, I was in the wrong spot, yet it wasn’t until 5:30 that I realised I was standing in a park in the centre of town. Found a backpackers and immediately went to bed, let it wear off in my dreams.

 Dreaming stoned I thought of Giant Mini-Golf. Real course, but obstacles like huge plastic shields that you must get over and thru. Full-size fun.

And also: The only way to pretend to be straight is to call upon certain behaviour patterns in the subconscious that are programmed and automatic. Like the picking up a pint glass and drinking, something I do without thinking. If I can string together a sequence of pre-programmed actions or sentences, then no-one can tell that I’m wasted/tripping, and I won’t be so pa

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A very short film starring amazing young unknown actors idea:

Running or traipsing, forest or wild beach, two young beautiful slightly weird creatures amble forth.

The humans suddenly realise they have each reached the toilet block, from opposing directions. At precisely the same time.

Each has the same dilemma, give in to my need for the toilet, or consider the opinion of this new person who instantly appeals to me.

They meet at a distance just far enough away from the block to suggest they were merely passing through, drawn to each other, slightly sheepishly.

They have an odd chat, and start to become amorous.

And as they do, the needs for the toilet, and the passions for each other, grow.

We see their dream versions of all the possible outcomes, covering platonic love, covert pleasures, pornographic acts, awkward dismissals, thunderstorms and more. In the toilet or not. Visions seen very quickly.

We need to choose by entering the combination on your controller. 90s, Running Man style.

 

 

 

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Men used to decorate buildings when they were built, now they are relatively featureless.

Men use to wear three-piece suits.

Men used to speak fancy.

Just like peacocks, magpies and most many animals try to impress with decoration.

(yes, some try to impress with strength, but that is a different topic…)

Men don’t decorate much these days.

I feel that women are decorating more now. I feel the tide is turning. I feel that roles are reversing or at the least balancing.

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