If you’re ever driving up 221 from Augusta to McCormick, SC and you see a brown arrow sign with a tantalizing, “Long Cane Indian Massacre Site?” If you should follow it? Better have 4 Wheel Drive. What sounds like just a jiffy up the road is actually the longest, weirdest gravel dirt road in all of the woods of these here parts. You’ll also drive over 2 rather rickety old wooden bridges praying your vehicle doesn’t plunge below. But if that’s just your cup of tea? Then you may (optimal word here), just find a surreal and tragic place in the middle of nowhere that holds the remains of 23 women and children butchered by Cherokee who felt that the camp of 260 settlers was just too close to them 40 miles away. But when warning arrived, they felt it would be wise to track to Augusta for safer living. Unfortunately there was the dreaded bog in which their wagon became stuck and camping for the night was their undoing. There were 56 fighting men on hand but when The Cherokee assailed? The gun wagon was too far from them and after 30 minutes of fighting with what they could, a hasty retreat was made. Crazily, 9 children survived being scalped to the pleasure of some wig maker in Augusta I might think, but 23 women and children remained behind. Among them? The 76 year old grandmother of none other than John C. Calhoun (All Southerners must stand and bow for a moment of silence). Calhoun placed the etched marker himself to commemorate the spot. And if you do find it? You walk over a little metal foot bridge and stand among 100ft pines and it is so remote all there is in this place is the sound of wind whipping by you and through the treetops. Not a bird, not a squirrel. Just wind and it feels like spirits at war and even during the day, like screams all around you that you can’t truly hear, but you feel the force from the beyond clawing at your soul. I’m just glad it was the daytime.
Savannah says goodbye to one of our great characters in the 20th & 21st, Louis “Popeye” Green. He mastered horses, farming, being homeless and the Blues Guitar. As I mentioned earlier to a friend today, although he was “poor,” he had such a rich life and was very much like many of us downtown in the 1990s when we were much poorer and although he was pushing a homeless cart stacked to the gills with lane treasures, we were in solidarity as business dreamers and artists in the making. He represented hard work, dignity, perseverance, never-quit-attitude and much more that was old world human. He suffered much also at the hands of life and for a time with drugs. I always called him Louis in the barn of Historic Horse Tours, but noted that on the streets it was “Popeye.” Of which he became known more when an accident meant surgery with a plate in his head, left it see more strange in shape I suppose. Even before that I once asked him, “Why do they call you Popeye?” He said, “some say its my head and that I look like him.” I never quite saw it because I thought he was cute-handsome and so I always called him by his formal name out of respect. Popeye seemed too much of a street character name, and not that this was a bad thing, but I’d known him as Louis first, and I saw him as fellow resident vs just a vagabond. In my life, Louis became subject of one of my favorite stories that I still continue to share like a sweet morsel. Some 20 years ago, when I drove for Bill Royal and his family’s business, Historic Horse Tours, we were the underdogs in town as the 2nd ever carriage company and were up against the monopoly company in town and we had a barn full of characters like myself, Russell “Rusty” Browne, and Bill’s sister, Twila Delight Royal (real name), and Louis was a barn hand and kind of a side kick to everyone. He had zero body fat and every bit of his body was striated with muscle that looked as if made of barbed wire. As a comic book reader, I compared his handshake to that of shaking hands with Ben Grimm or The Thing” from Fantastic Four. It felt like pumice or a thick leather glove. I’d felt hands like that before with the men in my Kentucky family who’d picked tobacco and had worked the railroads and coal mines. But even Louis’ hands were tougher. And yes, he’d grown up poor and black in the most rural parts of Georgia picking cotton and breaking horses. Or so I’d been told and he’d hinted around too. He was truly “of the land” and shaking his hand was like being greeted by an old tree. And in spite of his street life conditions, was glad to have a job and the little horse family down on the end of Savannah’s Fahm Street. One cold morning, around 7:30, our little crew was in the only warm place in the metal shed barn, the shanty office with its space heater. We were getting ready of course to ride out to City Market to sit for probably what would be hours in the “pre-tourist” town of Savannah, Georgia until we got a fare. Oh my those days when the wind from the Savannah River whipped through the desolate City Market parking garage and iced you to the bone! God forbid if your gloves got wet while filling the water bucket! I remember days when you’d see Rusty Browne in his vintage grey overcoat and laceless combat boots and dirty turtleneck sweater standing in an empty City Market with a fire and boiling pot of water selling boiled peanuts! I’m pretty sure you can’t do that anymore or probably even then! To think he’s the King of The Pedicabs today but it was VERY humble beginnings and these moments amused me now as much as they did then. We were all really Savannah’s Rat Pack and inspired each other even when we might not have known that we were doing that but I’m pretty sure I knew it. None the less, back to this particular morning of subject. I vividly recall Bill Royal, Twila, partner Tom Smith, Ruth Bodek, myself and one preppy art student, Scott all huddled in the office waiting on our reservation sheets. Per routine, Tom, Bill and Twila were smoking of course and I’m sure with the ether of dung and fresh straw in the mix, that the room smelled a little rich. But it was warm and this was story telling boot camp! This was still the days of land lines and barely a working computer so it felt a bit thrown together and by the seat of their pants. The most modern appliance was a Bunn Coffee burner with 2 hot plates and the classic orange and brown tipped glass coffee pots to signify caffeine or that other kind for the weak. Those pots were known to not only break at the slightest tap and cut you deeply, but also reached temperatures above 200 degrees and caused unforgiving burns at the slightest touch of the already life threatening glass. The company probably should’ve been known as Burn Coffee and not Bunn! But as coffee drinkers, we take such risks for the brown manna. Suddenly the office door opened, and with that suction sound that always pulled some air the door’s direction, moved some paperwork and a horse to look up somewhere, in coasts Louis who was in search of the freshly brewed elixir. We all say, “Morning Louis,” and he replied in his usual chipper tone, “Morning every-bawdy!” Being that we were all so jammed into the room, and that such an action moment is thus hard to miss, we were all just unconsciously watching Louis shuffle through this small room. It was literally about 100 sq ft and yes, some of us had to shift to let Louis get past. What happened next will forever remain burned into my brain and I have told the story often with a great tone of amazement and like someone who’d seen something epically freakish. I liken it to the same feeling someone has when witnessing a magician’s illusion that defies reality and leaves you speechless to the point that you hear your brain thud against your skull while trying to decipher the physics. And let me say this. We might argue that when these glass coffee pots are full they are supremely hotter across their glass surfaces than they might be if just partially full. Hence why most of us, ok, 99.9% of us know the value of the thick plastic handles on those pots. When Louis found himself in front of these coffee pots, I had a perfect eye line on the unexpected super human feat about to occur. In the same manner one might just pick up a pen in which to write? Louis picks up the coffeepot with both hands FROM THE BOTTOM — then slowly walks over to the other side of the office (maybe 10 feet), like he’s holding an average object, and proceeds in a very gentle, pouring type manner, turns the coffee into his cup like he can’t spare a drop and when done, he about faces, walks unhurriedly back to the hot plates as if more concerned by breaking the glass than the atomic heat on his hand and then rests the pot softly down, picks up his coffee cup and walks straight out the door without a wince or a word and a smile on his face. When the door once more did its sucking noise, there was silence across our faces. Scott actually looked nervous. We were frozen with dumbfoundedness and for a moment stared at each other in silent disbelief and I think there then came some “Holy shits” and nervous laughter and I seem to recall that Twila with her raspy smoke laced vocal chords exclaiming a, “Fuck man, that Louis has worked hard his whole life!” Louis sure did. And I knew that although I’d worked Illinois farms and painting barns, that it would be unlikely I’d ever work as hard or suffer as much as Louis Green. And I don’t like to use the word suffer around such a man. He wouldn’t want to me associate that with him either. Even though he was hard knocks, he did it with an impish smile and an infectious sweet, gritty laughter. He was also very very loved by me and some great souls around him and hope he passed on feeling content and blessed for sowing some seeds. He definitely planted one in me as a human being and I’m especially grateful now. As years went by I would see him around Savannah and seemed like he was doing better even if he seemed to like what the streets gave him a sense of, which was being real and keeping it real. I respect that. There’s too much fluffy anymore and that wasn’t his style. Funny but I get that. Sometimes staying just above homeless gives you an edge of charge and challenge and motivation that being a fat cat can’t. I remember seeing Louis at an “old folks” home on Tybee some years ago and thought, “well this is cool, he’s near the beach. He deserves this.” I don’t think that probably lasted as that was probably too soft of a life for him and although Louis looked well aged, he looked younger than his age and never struck me as a guy who’d ever “be old.” His body was bent over years ago by a hard life but he made that cruel human form of his own a beautiful machine. It would also be later that I learned Louis was a master guitar player and yes, even with those calloused hands. I bet vibration was all they could still feel and maybe God made them that way so they could slide more perfectly around them as he transmuted all of his soul through them. When I heard he’d play in City Market or jam out at some bars with people this caught me off guard and prompted some momentary disbelief. Yet any disbelief was replaced quickly by more awe of Louis and made my heart extremely happy. I’m one of those people who loves to be surprised by human nature and then am never surprised what human souls can do. Which makes me even more sorry to hear of his passing and that Louis will play no more. You see in the star chart of The Savannah Universe, there are these distinct planets in our solar system of personalities, and Louis Popeye Green was a huge star and the rest of us in the galaxy feel dim today even if we will all shine a little more brightly for the rest of our days for having him near. He made beautiful music and made an instrument of himself and gave of it fairly and freely. Rest In Peace Louis. 10/12/44 -8/29/16
Special Thanks to Rusty Browne for his letting us know of his passing and being a constant for him on behalf of all of us…
Video Credit Rusty Browne.
Strange as it is, but several years ago I found the home of a witch doctor family in South Carolina. Straight up vodun and creepy ritual rooms. Multi-generational group of them too. I salvaged hundreds of photographs that 140 degree heat beating through the ceiling was about to destroy. Among them? Candid 1974 Polaroids of Ali and his mistress Veronica Porsche in Zaire for “Rumble In The Jungle.” How uncanny to end up nearly destroyed on the floor of a witch doctor’s house in South Carolina who’d seen him rumbling in Africa…life is amazing. He was everyman’s hero really and his mojo had no rival. The photo below is just one of a few and has never been published. And yes, snapped by a root doctor.
“He was a sorcerer of the ring, witch doctor of the mat, and when he conjuh’d demons with his fists, his opponents went flat!” — S. Scott
Click Link To Hear Full Interview FRIDAY THE 13TH INTERVIEW ON GPB Radio
Conspiracy theories have a bad name in general. Or anymore. And some who do connect dots badly, deserve to be criticized but I think its too dismissive to abuse the term “conspiracy theorist” in doing that. It lumps the other true thinkers, those who can connect the dots and “follow the money” as is often the case, a bad name. But that’s what the social engineers want. They want everyone scoffing and being cynical and giving no credence to those who think critically. As laughable as it might seem? There is a literal conspiracy against conspiracy theorists. They want the word to mean the worst possible thing at the end of the day so yet again, they can control the narrative.
In a fun way I was asked to do this interview for Georgia Public Radio’s “On Second Thought” program as something light for recognizing Friday The 13th. The subjects ranged from the serious, “Atlanta Child Murders (1970s-80s)”, to The Georgia Guidestones and their possible New World Order connections, to the topic of The Altamahaha, a sort of Low Country “Nessie.” The interview was all of about 12 minutes and the host did an exceptional job running it and the people behind her also did a nice job of organizing sound clips and video clips so wish to thank them all. For me personally it was fun because they opened the interview with The X-Files’ Theme and then played a soundbyte from the INFOWARS.com network and in particular, their journalist, Paul Joseph Watson who I very much admire as a thinker and cutting edge gonzo sort of journalist. He’s got guts but his commentary is more for adults and that’s a good thing.
I think what the interview could not do in the short time, but no fault of its own as it was a nice stab towards things, is that it did not permit giving a complete picture on the more serious areas of the child murders that were clearly related to a massive child slavery network with Satanic & Witchcraft touches all over it. And that Atlanta is still a major center for child trafficking and human sacrifice. Just because George “Skull & Bones” Bush comes to town to create a distraction story, throws a CIA patsy in jail and gets President Jimmy Carter to create more distraction nonsense with blame on the barely relative KKK, doesn’t mean it all went away in real life. It didn’t. It hasn’t. It is estimated right now in 2016 that 1,000,000 children are involved in child slavery in the USA alone. And we’re talking about The Kardashians? Transgendered bathrooms? You do the math. The people running the child slavery run what happens in the media at the end of the day. In so many ways they overshadow it. Its all about keeping YOU distracted. I’m thinking 1.000,000 American children are in trouble? This is a national crisis that takes precedence over any trillion dollar, never ending conflict in foreign countries.
I think the other serious subject that the interview again scratches surface of but doesn’t get full fledged, is around the Tuskegee Experiments where thousands of black men were intentionally injected with syphilis by our government just to see how they died. The government later admitted this and paid out reparations. It reminds me of what a short term memory Americans have when we get into these vaccination debates. Do homework on them. Really. Their history and present and future is very checkered. The blood work of those Tuskegge experiments were handled at Oatland Island in Savannah, Georgia when it was the “Pre-CDC” building. You know, that government organization that supposedly “LOVES” you and wants you to be healthy? The CDC was and is still under the watchful eye of the Department of Defense. Gee wonder why? Naturally they wanted to weaponize this or that and from what I can tell, ultimately did, and have many times over. I had a friend who worked on Oatland Island and found himself doing dirty work for a then classified operation called “Operation Paperclip.” Read up on it sometime and then you’ll start to see how the left hand does not know what the right hand is doing inside of our country when so much happens in secrecy. Our own government brought in over 20,000 Nazi scientists to this country, many of whom would go on to head major organizations like BAYER, Johnson & Johnson, IBM and a litany of others. Don’t throw the Nazi baby out with the Nazi bath water right? Granted, there are various levels of culpability inside of regimes but I guess they did all of that secretly because they knew the public wouldn’t go for it. And even so, they took our tax dollars that we trust them with to make it all happen. This is what Eisenhower warned of when leaving office. The monster of the Industrial Military Complex. But to finish on the subject, my friend was given a poison acquired by the “less culpable” Nazi scientists. This poison was to be used to poison an entire water system of a town to kill everyone there if need be. A small vial was all that was needed. My friend was instructed to make something more deadly out of it. And he did. Boy did he ever. It ended up being 990 times the strength. Sounds like that might have the capacity to wipe out New York City possibly. No wonder he smoked a lot of pot. He also invented the formula for the flea collar sold to Hartz but DOW chemical made all of the money on that one. Wonder if they made money on the other one? Hmmmm……..
So to the interview. I’d like to do more of them. We’ll see. For me, this was my first public step out. Oh no, I mean I’ve been on national TV dozens of times and done things on ghosts on NPR even. But that was all truly light and pure entertainment. This was a bit of that today, yes. Yet it was more. This interview meant something else to me. I call it my first shot across the prow of a vessel called The Illuminati on the high seas of The New World Order. I want them to know my name. I want them to know the good guys are in town and that we are here to take back the good things they’ve hijacked, including the minds of the American public. Basically I just hate evil and I hate the kind of evil that’s dressed up by those who do it using terms and processes that are actually good things but have been twisted and manipulated to deceive us. I want humanity to wake up to the reality of being human experiments at so many levels….
So the interview was playful air time on Friday The 13th. But on a high holy day of darkness, you might say I was ritualistically using the interview to incantate white light inside of the dark.
So when after the interview I went on to my cemetery tour and that black cat ran across the road in front of me? It wasn’t bad luck. It was darkness trying to flee.
I’m joining the war. Will you?
I can honest to God say I’m friends with a mermaid, a doll, a cartoonist, banjo aficionado, a witch and a ghost. And her name is Dame Darcy. Yes, you read that right.
We first met just a few years ago at an event she was connected. Nothing ordinary of course. It was photographic exhibit called The Legendary Children and was devoted to transexual themes. She was very doting on me and I remember her saying kind of drunkily, “You’re adorable.” And that was it. Dame Darcy was my new spirit crush. Artists tend to do this. We adopt people who we see as kindred and in Savannah you really appreciate the value of that.
As an artist of sorts myself, I envy people like Dame Darcy because they’re very driven to do what they do and they’re always doing it. Now and again you meet these sort of savants who simply eat and breath their craft. If Darcy isn’t illustrating her own works, she’s illustrating someone else’s. If she’s not writing a novel and illustrating it, she’s writing something for someone else’s work. If she’s not doing any of that, she’d playing banjo and singing or making dolls or painting tarot card sets to sell in her Etsy store. Or she’s writing, casting, starring and pitching a treatment for a movie or TV show about mermaids and pirates. And then in her spare time like some people might drive for UBER or Lyft, she’s playing a ghost for the incredibly popular group-think-tank-game called “Escape Savannah” that’s like a CLUE game with a haunted twist. Dame Darcy moves at the speed of light and is almost her own artistic elemental. But at heart she’s kind of like a little girl who refuses to “grow up” by continually piping the adult world through her child like sense of the universe and then giving back to the adult world through her art, her child like sense of the universe. Its a gift for the world and she has a lot to say and amuse with via her many talents.
Which is why it was such a special thing to “capture” her before she headed out on a promotional tour. We sat down in my makeshift studio in my kitchen to talk about growing up in Idaho town with a population of 15 and how her family emigrated there as they were the family of John Wilkes Booth. We delve into some of her mental processes around her art, where some of it stems from in terms of influence and style and along the conversational path hit on a wide range of other subjects regarding working with sensations Neil Gaiman (Sandman Chronicles) and the legend Alan Moore (Watchmen) and a laundry list of other artists and performers like Tiny Tim. The interview ends on an interesting leg as I address a controversy that whipped Dame Darcy’s name through the media last year in that she legitimately had in her possession some of Kurt Cobain’s hair and nearly sold it for a significant sum of money before the auction was pulled because of Courtney Love’s protest. The story has an interesting finish and I invite you to sit for awhile and listen. I can assure you that no one in this world will ever accuse Dame Darcy for being dull and I am always eager to see what she’s making next!
Dame Darcy’s Etsy Store where you can buy fabby artsy things!
CORRECTION: During the interview I mis-stated that Dame Darcy might have been one of the earliest or first female comic book artists to be published. This was a distracted statement of mine in the preliminary part of the interview. What I meant to really say was that she was the youngest female comic book artist ever published at 17 years of age. No offense to the many female comic book artists going back almost 100 years now!
By Shannon Scott (C) 2016
Let’s face it. Sports are largely entertainment. Beyond the athletics part for the athlete, they have a role that is a kind of escapism for the public. And now and again someone makes them far too serious and turns it into something warped from the outside in. For the sake of this writing, I’m going to leave out the fact that it has become very evident that many sporting events with so much money riding on them are fixed for a certain outcome. There’s too much money riding on them anymore for that not to happen so let’s stop fooling ourselves. I will also spare you the majority of my thoughts on the very real evidence that the powers behind major sport’s leagues are in collusion with government forces to use mainstream sports for a “Coliseum” like test tank to modify and condition human behavior. Whether we like it or not, inside of our capitalistic based society, the evidence of Leftist controllers ruling the day are everywhere. They are also being backed by elite money to hold onto as much of the profit for themselves as possible, and human freedoms beyond that be damned. Of course the powers dress it up as “making us safe” and “let’s not offend that group or those indigenous people or that special race” etc, etc, etc. The Superbowl of last was a perfect example where 80 government agencies were all there to “protect us” with pat downs, facial recognition cameras and a horde of military equipment. The whole lot. Yet the borders of our country at the same time are wide open and we’re importing military aged men from radical terrorist corners and using tax money to give them fully stamped visas. No, I won’t say much else less to say it rather speaks for itself if you’re really attune. And that’s my concern. Sporting events and related elements are being used to keep people chattle. Dumbing them down as an instrument of sedation both inside and outside of the arenas. Much like in Roman times, people having little to no real freedoms outside of The Coliseum, flowed there to pour their frustrations of their suppressed yearnings into bloodlust moments of the arenas, returning home spent and resolved to stay slaves. Too exhausted to fight, but fed with just enough taste of power to keep them neither completely unhappy or happy. A kind of suspended universe. Life in a fishbowl. And that’s my point my friends. The age may be different, but the times are not so much.
In part I’m writing this because I want my fellow man to be awake and to see what’s at hand. But the impetus that moved me to author this today was waking to yet another ridiculous article about The University of Illinois and its use of The Chief or The Ilinois tribe as its official moniker. CLICK HERE TO READ what I’m calling The Libtard Article of Offensiveness in The Daily Ilini, the campus newspaper. Which is kind of what I wanted to call this article of my own actually. Because it is Libtardedness.
I’m sure many remember the rather long and over drawn out haranguing of The Washington Redskins for using the name “Redskins.” Which was not unlike the later Confederate Flag controversy in that the media paints it one way to invigorate ignorant people into feeling powerful, when in fact history knows things differently about the subject. And sadly, often well meaning people get dragged into such controversies over the emotion of it all and the very basic human desire to be “sensitive” gets fanned and these scenarios tend to over rule people becoming more educated on the truth surrounding the greater subject. They unwittingly bandwagon a molehill into a mountain. Really they don’t see that the social engineers in control use these situations to test button society. To see what they’re willing to take. To see how nimbleminded they are. To see how easy it is to generate chaos. Sadly, they’re winning anymore. Thankfully, The Washington Redskin organization was vindicated later when it was proven, rather easily in fact, that the word “redskin” was self invented by Indians. Go freaking figure. READ The History of Redskins If real journalists had actually done their homework first, the controversy wouldn’t have been one. But this harks back to the intrinsic media monopoly problem. Some 50 years ago there were several dozen media companies which now? There are really only 6, and 3 of them are owned by the same company. In a country of 350 million people? Worse? Those 3 companies are in bed with The White House (ala, The Roman Empiricists) who are in bed with foreign central banks who support censorship and all of the rest of what amounts to generally, Anti-American philosophy. People need to wake up to this design in order to see the spirit of all. Or perhaps they’ll see the spirit and then the design. Either route is fine with me as long as people WAKE UP to Leftism poisoning this great nation of our own.
Ok, so back to the tiny kommisar who wrote The Daily Illini article. I originally read it on Facebook, posted by an old high school chum of mine living in my hometown and as I’d had enough of the poltical correctness, I posted a response via my phone in the comments section of The Daily Illini. But knowing they probably wouldn’t post it, I copied it to preserve the argument for my blog here. The controversy basically stemming some years ago when they killed The Chief logo and performer from the school’s identity and sporting events officially. Breaking ties with it because you know, the usual backwards argument that white people massacred the entire culture of Indians and that these images tied to the school was somehow a disrespect for flaunting such travesty or implying some caricature of it. In reality its all quite the opposite, but much like Chicago, we’ve seen The State of Illinois go Soviet Union in all sorts of ways politically and economically in their Leftism. The University of Illinois has also been infected along with at least one writer for The Daily Illini. Really the article’s author is little more than another foot soldier of political correctness gone awry. Someone on Facebook commented to the effect of, “at least he didn’t call for an all out ban of the Chief image or making the Illini novelties illegal.” My reply was that he doesn’t have to. After so much kowtowing has already occurred? The moral sanctioners have scored a major victory for Leftism. Removing or abolishing The Chief is already a win. So really he’s just sneering out loud (limp wristedly), but he knows that by doing so in a campus sanctioned paper, IS the equivalent of asking powers to crack down on this freedom of expression and related commerce. He’s just not wearing a Budenovka to go along with his Komsomol uniform while handing out the official party flyers. It probably won’t be long before they have designated “Free Speech Areas” like they do on other U.S. campuses. Granted the author, Costello, seems less militant in his work photo — but give him time. In fact, I really wonder if with how compliant the population has been with such obvious intellectual crimes against The American Way, if he would ever feel the need to be so strong stated? I mean his “soft tone” approach kind of speaks to how within the regions of power, the monopoly of thought is so ruled by them at this point, they’ve gotten overly comfortable. It as if the autocrats of this thinking are just as lazy as the people they’re looking to and have subjugated. Let’s hope this is their Achilles’ Heel. Their’s I mean. Not REAL AMERICANS.
Well I am one American, not so lazy. And my response to the insanity that The Daily Illini is here below. I would be willing to bet there are some fellow Illinoisans who would stand by the words below because they’ve lived it and know the truth in their hearts and minds.
Remote viewing (RV) is the practice of seeking impressions about a distant or unseen target using subjective means, in particular, extrasensory perception (ESP) or “sensing with mind”. There is no credible scientific evidence that remote viewing works, and the topic of remote viewing is regarded as pseudoscience.
You can pretty much bet if the military is using psychic operatives, there’s something to it. Even if ifs funny to make fun of Madame Cleo and all of the rest of the hacks, its like what other con men do. They rip off of the real thing or use the real thing for greedy gains. You have to wonder sometimes if Uri Geller wasn’t just a plant by the government to look like a fraud on Johnny Carson years ago when he was bending spoons and moving things mentally, or rather, lack thereof, just to keep the public cynical and mocking of things psychical. In that sense, you can’t blame the public. And yes, its not good to just believe every Joe who comes along even if its our nature to receive people to be considerate and helpful.
Even so, I’ve been a witness to the powers of Remote Viewing and other phenomenon that we call “spiritual.” Sometime before the subject was made mainstream through films like Subject Zero with Ben Kingsley, and the more popularly received and rather comical, Men Who Stare At Goats, with George Clooney & Jeff Bridges, I’d seen “RV” work first hand through Tami Sabo, and even before that, knew, but didn’t know at first, a Remote Viewer that had been part of the top secret operation, “Project Stargate” at Standford University.
John Zeuli is a wedding photographer and portrait photographer by trade. One of the nicest guys I’ve ever met. According to him, before Remote Viewing was de-classified, he saw his friends railroaded to jail and murdered by the government for talking about what they were doing with their psychic abilities. But afterwards, you could write books and make millions. In fact he came to lecture at the first annual conference of The American Institute of Parapsychology in 2002 that I organized here in Savannah and spoke of what Remote Viewing was, and he even showed us how it worked. He noted that to desensitize himself to his physical senses and surroundings, the folks at Stargate put them all in flotation chambers to heighten their mind’s eye. John was quick to tell you that he never used it militarily as he kind of wanted to get into other things but that it was interesting being part of it all. And even though they still use these operatives, they don’t officially. Anyone invited to these programs are told simply they’ll be disavowed if ever asked about their participation officially. But you don’t think they found Saddam Hussein down in a hole just by being friendly to the Iraqi natives do you? Nope. They used Remote Viewers. In fact they located Osama Bin Frauden, or as I prefer to call him, the CIA asset, Tim Osman, multiple times with RVers. They even had some snipers on him in result. But you know, he was a useful idiot before and after 9/11.
All the same, it wasn’t until I met the beautiful, delightful and fiery Aries redhead, Tami Sabo that much more of this became understood to me. Or seeing it work. We’ve known each other for about 13 years now and one day when I do release my book to the world, there’ll be a chapter on the extent of our connection and all of the interesting things we saw and learned together. Anyway, I don’t want to spoil the interview so if I’ve caught your attention this far? Should be worth the 2 hour listen. We talk Savannah of course, hauntings, Remote Viewing, and her latest and greatest project, a custom tarot deck, The Savannah Deck, which uses Savannah & Tybee Island imagery for the purposes of the deck. I think what this recent interview illustrates yet again is that there have been and are so many fascinating people living here and its part of the depth of the phrase or what people mean when they call Savannah, “America’s Most Haunted City”! Indeed! Hope everyone enjoys!
LISTEN HERE: My Radio Interview With Tami Sabo
Tami Sabo’s Website: The Savannah Deck
Savannah Mystic Fair: The Savannah Mystic Fair
Neat Savannah Events: Jelinek Creative Spaces Website
John Zeuli Photography: John Zeuli Website
Savannah and the world, owes a huge public debt to The Silver family of The South. They built a multitude of businesses & other cultural institutions both spiritual and physical, and especially in the 20th Century added much color to the color wheel spectrum of not just great, but the greatest of Savannah characters. Their story is one of an immigrant family made good, “legally” in the United States, but inside of that embracing The American Dream and never looking back. I can honestly say, Savannah would not be the same rich city, not really, without the Silver name. I shall largely let my interviews speak to those things, but I was reminded of all of this legacy to Savannah & the life of Rock N’Roll, when I sat down with a man I’ve long called “Master Murray,” my hero and envy as storyteller. Murray Silver, Jr is one of those people who you introduce by saying, “a man who needs no introduction.” He’s tied to everything and every one in some form or fashion and I’m often left awed by who he just casually mentions a friendship or artistic connection with. Of course as a young man, barely out of high school, I well remember the film, “Great Balls of Fire,” starring Dennis Quaid as Jerry Lee Lewis, and Winona Ryder who played the infamous 13 year old bride, Myra. Admittedly I’d seen the hardcover book for sale in the mall bookstores, but at the time, it didn’t much interest me as I was immersed in English New Wave and California based Speed Metal. Even if I was weaned on the sounds of the 1950s via my father in particular, although Jerry Lee Lewis was probably too wild for my parents in their youth and later. Little too punk rock you might say. All the same, it wouldn’t be until I opened my former ghost tour business, Sixth Sense Savannah in 2001, that I became acquainted with Murray Silver, but at first it was only by reputation. He would do various book signings of his classic, “Behind The Moss Curtain,” which I still regard as the most compelling Savannah story book ever written, and I would get tourists on my ghost tours at night that would say, “Murray Silver sent us,” or “Murray told us you were the real deal and the only one to tour with.” It was funny because for years, I was doing 2-3 tours at night, often ending my Midnight Tour at 3 or 4 AM, and I would sleep until mid afternoon, get up and do it all over again. So I’m sad to say, I never got to go thank Murray personally for being so generous and I just hoped he didn’t see it as a disrespect. As time went by, we had some sporadic meetings at best but about 5 years ago developed more of a consistent friendship over the phone and I discovered we had lots of common interests and I regretted that we hadn’t talked more often. Which yes, we’ve more than made up for it since and this interview is proof! After just listening for a few minutes you’ll see why he’s one of the few storytellers I defer to and why I call him Master Murray.