I recently presented at a Sydney exo-politics forum to an audience of mixed ability levels. Sadly, the ugly voice of base atheist-materialism determined to objectivise everything associated with the paranormal inspired an all too familiar cretins’ chorus. As my narrative line failed to affirm these eminently cultured critics’ belief systems, content was judged “unprofessional” to fortify ignorance. The sheer arrogance of creators of mythical propaganda never ceases to amaze me. Elite championed approved versions of pseudo-sciences such as ufology; paranormal studies and spirituality bluster on in the vain hope that someday the mainstream will adopt these devious brands. My goodness, the fools worship permanently unidentified flying objects. If that isn’t insane, I wonder what is. Let me say this, in conclusion. I absolutely believe in democratic fair play and put everything up before the Exopolitician blog’s own committee. The decision found us unanimously against prejudice in support of traditionalism. We have decided to detach from those lofty, fake standards cutely dressed as “professionalism” and have nothing more to do with that Sydney exo-politics organisation.
JK Rowling’s heroic character, Harry Potter, has been my inspiration to move on. Against all odds, his resilience and belief in pure truths won the day. If that means I have to be a non-violent crusader for faith, then so be it. To conclude my ill-fated presentation, I read a small section of my extended short story, “Life on Mars (Part One) – inspired by Harry Potter”, which was created in the memory of a very different (but perhaps slightly similar) namesake; an impish school chum of mine. The reading followed some very deep, poignant but absolutely non-conformist information on the cosmos, time, Annunaki and formation of two suns after the destruction of Tiamat. Five hours’ worth of content had to be compressed into a strict ninety minutes so, of the thirty scripted power point slides, only eight were covered. A number of audience members (clearly separate from those chorus of cretins) wanted more and one lady (eager to listen on) suggested I prepare to launch a YouTube video illuminating content for the other slides. In light of the irreparable fallout with event organisers, I shall create a complete presentation via video channel. But that is an exciting project for the future.
Not everyone was interviewed after the event, but I sensed that my Life on Mars snippet was appreciated by most; if not all. The writing style is so vivid; one audience member asked me if it was based on real life experiences. I had to respond, being honest, that if it was based on real life, it was not a life I recollected. Nevertheless there have been a number of strange connections happening (unbeknown to me at the time of writing) after the fact. Please enjoy this topical extract:
Chipping Norton village had been the centre of attention two weeks before. A boisterous arts and crafts fair had passed through. It was a colourful troop that included mystics, spiritualists and even genuine gypsies. Apparently some had international reputations. One of the locals learned that our village had been cursed for its role in the inquisition, but no one really took any notice. This had come from a strange foreign woman who carried a crystal ball in a small, battered, leather suitcase. Other than that, the lead up to “the event” had shown no irregularities, no suggestions; no insight as to what was to happen. Indeed things had been more normal than normal.
I looked at my watch. Save the mysterious light, it was almost dark. I could barely make out the hour. Nine o’clock! “Well, time for a cup of tea,” I thought.
Then, an almighty crack!
What was that? It sounded like a large tree had just been felled. The ground vibrated. Not being the inquisitive type, I carried on to the small kitchenette where there was a kettle, small stove and all the essentials for tea making. Poking up on one of the shelves was even half a packet of chocolate digestive biscuits. I picked up a small plate, the biscuits and placed them on the side table. The kettle had already started to hiss. That was quick. I had only just switched it on.
Outside a fog began to appear, slowly but distinctly. It was the rolling sort that shimmered in the mysterious luminance.
To the left of the kitchenette was mounted an electric wall clock. The second hand usually went “clack, clack, clack” stridently. It was so loud, in quiet moments it could be heard in the workshop.
Nothing; no hissing, no clacking, just silence. It was as though time had stood still. It’s funny, but it took a few moments for the serenity to sink in. I am sitting there, trying to read a pamphlet in the half light. So absorbed, I almost missed it; the moment time stood still. When it came to me, when I realised, it was too late. “The event” was already happening; so fast, I can barely recount.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a cleft or, at least, I thought that is what it was. The wall to my right side seemed to just open up. First a chink of that mysterious light seeped out, slowly oozing towards me like sticky treacle. The fissure widened to a shaft and then there was just light; blinding, throbbing light.
Our narrator cleared his throat again. “Can someone throw some more wood on the fire? It’s dying low.” He then rummaged in his backpack and produced a tired wooden pipe and a pouch of smoking tobacco. Clearing his throat, once more, for good measure, he proceeded to fill up the bowl, meticulously evening out any odd strand of tobacco. “You like smoking that pipe, sir?” said one of his group obscured by an orange tinted blackish fog made from the combination of the fire and the pressing outer elements.
A vague nod and silence
“Um, now where was I?”
To our left a large bat skipped by. Out of nowhere, silhouetted against the darkness it shocked the be-jeepers out of us. “What was that?” screamed one of our brethren.
“Don’t worry Alan”
The narrator pensively scanned the lack of horizon hoping to make something out of nothing, then lowered his head and began reading again.
A blinding, throbbing light blacked out all sense of perspective; all sense of time. It was as though I was suspended at heaven’s gate. Then there was something; a little movement. Was it an arm? It moved too quickly and faded back into the light. At that point I seemed to lose consciousness.
I don’t know how long I was unconscious for, but it seemed like the next instant I was no longer there. This was an entirely different place. The pulsating light had gone. How did I arrive here?
It took several moments to regain my composure. Only then did I realise I could not move. Paralysed is the wrong word. It was as though I was made of stone. Had I met a fate similar to Hans Solo? If this was carbonite, at least my eyes still worked, but they were fixed. As much as I tried I could not move them side to side.
Ahead of me looked something like a laboratory, but nothing quite resembling anything I had seen before. The floors and walls that I could view were white, as were various cabinets and shelves. There was also some strange intricate mirror work that looked eerily alien. Numerous scattered lights of different colours gave the place an almost festive feel and one long shelf appeared to have been entirely devoted to preserved animals. None looked familiar. Each was mounted on a sturdy wooden base encased in glass. Strange inscriptions of an unknown language using unknown symbols were etched into stylish silver plaques suggesting these were display pieces.
Right at the end of the room were maybe doorways or booths. Just before them was a weird looking spherical vat. It was a translucent green and inside something or some things wriggled. To the very right of visual range a white post or pillar stood about head high. On it perched a radiant sphere of pure gold; quite beautiful, mesmerising even. Surprisingly, there were no noticeable windows or lighting systems, other than the liberally placed fairy lights mentioned prior.
I began to inspect the animals on display more carefully, as many were quite fascinating, when the floor seemed to open up before me. It literally formed a portal. Out popped a head first; then a body and some spindly limbs followed. I tried to gasp but I couldn’t. The face of this thing; creature was almost blank. A tiny slit represented the mouth; minute breathing holes could be just made out where the nose should have been. Its eyes were very large and occupied most of the facial real estate. They were strangely multi-coloured, “rainbow” orbs, although this was perhaps a reflective effect, like cat’s eyes. The head itself was oversized compared to mine and an inverted pear shaped. Its skin, of an off white, or perhaps, grey shade, had a synthetic quality. The image was so unreal, I was not sure if this wasn’t some alien costume. A child or dwarf in fancy dress?
The body was nothing to look at. Small framed, it wore a stylish infant’s jump suit. One piece coloured light beige and noticeably etched into the right breast was a smart space age royal blue and crimson insignia. The left hand clasped a silver pen. It stood stoically. All of a sudden a high pitched chirping, not dissimilar to the sound a field cricket emits, surrounded me. It was as if the creature was talking to me even though the mouth did not move. Rhythms became more frantic and, then, as abruptly as they started, they stopped. Its mesmerising rainbow eyes were also communicating something. I seemed to understand exactly what it wanted just by focusing on those kaleidoscopic irises.
In a flash the creature before me transformed into a well presented regal looking fellow, human in every way. Wearing a breezy linen suit of mottled mustard contrasting his deep scarlet cravat, in the right lapel was a giant orchid of the most beautiful design. Its fragrance was captivating.
“Sorry old thing, the frequency catalyser is on the blink, damned Ragthusian technology “
“By the way, I’m Pibble, charmed to meet you”
I felt my feet for the first time. My body was on rapid defrost. Everything tingled.
“Buh, buh, buh….buh, buh” was all that came out and I felt drool dribbling down from the left side of my mouth.
“WHY?” I exploded. It had not meant to come out as a roar, but all that pent up wanting to move just erupted.
“I understand” exclaimed Pibble. “Yes, this takes quite a bit of getting used to”
Looking pensively, he then said, “Not to worry, old thing, all will be explained on the way”
“We are going on a journey and I think you will like what you see”
With that he smiled broadly.
How to finish a fine read?
Testing content on a number of friends, a couple felt it was ideal as a reading tool to encourage our modern youth. It is not too long, keeps the reader engaged (even in the boring bits) and there is a “payoff” (oh boy, is there just!). In fact the only criticism was; where’s part two? So, I would be most appreciative if you would all raise awareness of the tale on social media networks.
Depending on the desire of wanton readerships as expressed by numbers completing the first part of Life on Mars (inspired by Harry Potter), other parts will follow ultimately preparing more serious readers for my next large book, “A New World Order”. This, in light of the constant requests for it to be so, may be produced in print. But that is for a future time beyond the control or whims of our beloved Harry Potter.