Thread: Tales of high strangeness

BrerRabbit - 11/11/2017 at 07:44 AM

Kinda burned out on the standard menu here, Trump with a side of Obama, so thought it might be neat to hear any accounts of high strangeness - UFOs, ghosts, timeslips, skinwalkers, NDEs, bizarre coincidences, you know, coast2coast type stuff.

Would like to kick the thread into gear, but it is late, maybe mañana . . .


Jerry - 11/11/2017 at 11:37 PM

Never too late for a story of weirdness.

Back in 1972 I was driving home from college. Went to Gordon Military in Barnesville and lived in Twiggs County.
A trip of about 60 miles. Left Barnesville and drove through Forsyth, hit the Interstate (I-75) and remember getting past the first three exits on I-16 and getting into the area past Macon.
I don't remember getting off I-16 but I do remember some pretty bright lights in my back window along I-16.
Note: Back then I-16 was very sparsely traveled.
Next thing I remember was coming under the power lines just before turning into the driveway at home.
I don't think I fell asleep and drove about 20 miles, got off the interstate, made all the curves on Bullard Rd, turned onto the Cochran Short Route and made it to the driveway without being awake. But, I just don't remember driving there.
Six years later, Close Encounters of the Third Kind came out and the scene of him stopping at the rail road crossing with the bright lights behind him seemed familiar.
Will not say that this is what happened to me, but I did feel kind of funny about it.


pops42 - 11/11/2017 at 11:50 PM

quote:
Never too late for a story of weirdness.

Back in 1972 I was driving home from college. Went to Gordon Military in Barnesville and lived in Twiggs County.
A trip of about 60 miles. Left Barnesville and drove through Forsyth, hit the Interstate (I-75) and remember getting past the first three exits on I-16 and getting into the area past Macon.
I don't remember getting off I-16 but I do remember some pretty bright lights in my back window along I-16.
Note: Back then I-16 was very sparsely traveled.
Next thing I remember was coming under the power lines just before turning into the driveway at home.
I don't think I fell asleep and drove about 20 miles, got off the interstate, made all the curves on Bullard Rd, turned onto the Cochran Short Route and made it to the driveway without being awake. But, I just don't remember driving there.
Six years later, Close Encounters of the Third Kind came out and the scene of him stopping at the rail road crossing with the bright lights behind him seemed familiar.
Will not say that this is what happened to me, but I did feel kind of funny about it.
Was Jack Daniels riding "shot-gun"?


Jerry - 11/12/2017 at 12:21 AM

quote:
quote:
Never too late for a story of weirdness.

Back in 1972 I was driving home from college. Went to Gordon Military in Barnesville and lived in Twiggs County.
A trip of about 60 miles. Left Barnesville and drove through Forsyth, hit the Interstate (I-75) and remember getting past the first three exits on I-16 and getting into the area past Macon.
I don't remember getting off I-16 but I do remember some pretty bright lights in my back window along I-16.
Note: Back then I-16 was very sparsely traveled.
Next thing I remember was coming under the power lines just before turning into the driveway at home.
I don't think I fell asleep and drove about 20 miles, got off the interstate, made all the curves on Bullard Rd, turned onto the Cochran Short Route and made it to the driveway without being awake. But, I just don't remember driving there.
Six years later, Close Encounters of the Third Kind came out and the scene of him stopping at the rail road crossing with the bright lights behind him seemed familiar.
Will not say that this is what happened to me, but I did feel kind of funny about it.
Was Jack Daniels riding "shot-gun"?


Since the drinking age in Georgia back then was 18, he could have.
More than likely one of things where you get thinking about other things and kind of "drive by memory".


OriginalGoober - 11/14/2017 at 12:53 AM

The new Blade Runner movie was excellent. It stuck tru to the original- very dark and grimy. Unfortunately i tthink the planet is headed in this direction with the continued advancement of technology and AI. Anyone else see this?


BrerRabbit - 11/14/2017 at 06:19 AM

Tanked at the box office, too much thinking required.

Really good flick - worth every penny of ticket. Loved it - and yes it worked seamlessly with the original. Philip K. Dick (author of Blade Runner or "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep", died a year or so before the film) was writing about this stuff in the 1960s! I remember when I started reading his stuff way back, it was considered the furthest out paranoid schizo sci-fi. He didn't sell much while alive, only to a small cult. Now a lot of it is everyday life, or entirely possible soon.

The man who wrote the future.


oldblue - 11/14/2017 at 08:50 PM

I bought my li'l cabin about 13 yrs ago. I bought it from a credit union. The owner/mortgagee had gone missing. Ziggy was 39 yrs old and was being treated for cancer at the time he disappeared. After we owned it for about 6 months my daughter (maybe 20 yrs old) asked me to drop her off with our rotweiller to kick back alone for the weekend. I visited with her awhile before i left. The dog- Buster - couldn't relax she paced around with her nose up and whined a bit. When I got up to leave, Buster refused to stay but we dragged her back into the cabin. The dog never really settled, she whined and stayed alert and insisted on sleeping in the bedroom with Shalane. During the night Shalane got up to pee and when she opened the bedroom door she found the kitchen cupboards open, a tool box was on the floor, snapped open, the tray beside it and several tools laid out on the floor. Nobody else was there in the cabin and the doors were locked ! Shalane had a sleepless rest of the night and had me pick her up just after dawn. To this day she never sleeps in that back bedroom. Ziggy has never been found. We still keep an eye out for remains in the woods and make jokes an scare folks that haven't spent the night before.


rmack - 11/14/2017 at 09:26 PM

quote:
Tanked at the box office, too much thinking required.

Really good flick - worth every penny of ticket. Loved it - and yes it worked seamlessly with the original. Philip K. Dick (author of Blade Runner or "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep", died a year or so before the film) was writing about this stuff in the 1960s! I remember when I started reading his stuff way back, it was considered the furthest out paranoid schizo sci-fi. He didn't sell much while alive, only to a small cult. Now a lot of it is everyday life, or entirely possible soon.

The man who wrote the future.




The inimitable Philip K. Dick:

On February 20, 1974, while recovering from the effects of sodium pentothal administered for the extraction of an impacted wisdom tooth, Dick received a home delivery of Darvon from a young woman. When he opened the door, he was struck by the beauty of the dark-haired girl and was especially drawn to her golden necklace. He asked her about its curious fish-shaped design. "This is a sign used by the early Christians," she said, and then left. Dick called the symbol the "vesicle pisces". This name seems to have been based on his conflation of two related symbols, the Christian ichthys symbol (two intersecting arcs delineating a fish in profile) which the woman was wearing, and the vesica piscis.[23]

Dick recounted that as the sun glinted off the gold pendant, the reflection caused the generation of a "pink beam" of light that mesmerized him. He came to believe the beam imparted wisdom and clairvoyance, and also believed it to be intelligent. On one occasion, Dick was startled by a separate recurrence of the pink beam. It imparted the information to him that his infant son was ill. The Dicks rushed the child to the hospital, where his suspicion was confirmed by professional diagnosis.[24][verification needed]

After the woman's departure, Dick began experiencing strange hallucinations. Although initially attributing them to side effects from medication, he considered this explanation implausible after weeks of continued hallucinations. "I experienced an invasion of my mind by a transcendentally rational mind, as if I had been insane all my life and suddenly I had become sane," Dick told Charles Platt.[25]

Throughout February and March 1974, Dick experienced a series of hallucinations, which he referred to as "2-3-74",[19] shorthand for February–March 1974. Aside from the "pink beam", Dick described the initial hallucinations as geometric patterns, and, occasionally, brief pictures of Jesus and ancient Rome. As the hallucinations increased in length and frequency, Dick claimed he began to live two parallel lives, one as himself, "Philip K. Dick", and one as "Thomas", a Christian persecuted by Romans in the first century AD. He referred to the "transcendentally rational mind" as "Zebra", "God" and "VALIS". Dick wrote about the experiences, first in the semi-autobiographical novel Radio Free Albemuth and then in VALIS, The Divine Invasion and the unfinished The Owl in Daylight (the VALIS trilogy).

In 1974, Dick wrote a letter to the FBI, accusing various people, including University of California, San Diego professor Frederic Jameson, of being foreign agents of Warsaw Pact powers.[26] He also wrote that Stanisław Lem was probably a false name used by a composite committee operating on orders of the Communist party to gain control over public opinion.[27]

At one point Dick felt that he had been taken over by the spirit of the prophet Elijah. He believed that an episode in his novel Flow My Tears, the Policeman Said was a detailed retelling of a biblical story from the Book of Acts, which he had never read.[28] Dick documented and discussed his experiences and faith in a private journal he called his "exegesis", portions of which were later published as The Exegesis of Philip K. Dick. The last novel Dick wrote was The Transmigration of Timothy Archer; it was published shortly after his death in 1982.


BrerRabbit - 11/21/2017 at 06:03 PM

Good stuff. Jerry, what I find remarkable is that a lifetime after the event you remember so much vivid detail. If it was just ho hum "driving by memory" it seems you would have just shrugged it off and forgotten. If it was Jack Daniels riding shotgun you would have just staggered from the car and at best have a vague memory of barfing on the lawn. This sounds eerily like the Betty and Barney Hill event - might be worth finding a reputable hypnotist and seeing what you find.

I've got a couple of weird ones. First come to mind is a run in with skinwalkers out on the Navajo Reservation. 1984, was working as a sheepherder way out there, where they are very old school, old religion, only the kids spoke English, no electricity, no running water, no pavement, traditonal log hogans, other than pickup trucks pretty much old ways, which I was totally unaware of.

Believe me, never read any Tony Hillerman either, he would kill to have seen this for real. Skinwalkers weren't introduced to pop culture until years later.

Midwinter, was sleeping on the floor of the utility shed, woke up to a strange sound, grabbed flashlight, tabby cat next to my head chewing on a mouse. Damn gross, I thought, and slapped it away. Next thing the old rickety door opens and a big white wolf is standing there. Note: no wolves in Arizona, and no coyotes or raggedy Indian dogs looked like this, huge, sleek, perfectly white, clean teeth, blue eyes, recall it perfect. Just staring at me. Figured I better react first so i jumped out of my sleeping bag yelling and charged at the wolf. It didn't budge at first, eyes narrowed, tongue out teeth shining, looked like it was going to engage, then it turned and trotted off, not scared. I yelled more and chased it so it would get the idea that it wasn't welcome. It ran faster, but clearly didn't give a sh!t about being chased down the dirt road by a naked hollering white hippy.

OK, next morning I tell the family. They couldn't believe I chased this thing. Said it was a Hopi skinwalker and it could have killed me. Oh really? What's a skinwalker? The kids said I was a bellagana (white ghost), not of the real earth and was outside the action, and couldn't understand even if they tried to explain so just stay out of it. The matron of the ranchito was a hand trembler, she did a ceremony over this, waved a feather and sang and said some things, her hands shook and led to the dirt roof of the hogan. The old man got a ladder, climbed up and found wolf tracks on the dirt roof, and bone powder around the smokehole.

Weirder and weirder. So, to manage the situation the whole family had to go to a ceremony many miles away, were going to be gone for four days, left me in charge to watch the place. The old man took me aside and gave me careful instructions: At exactly midnight four nights out, there will be a skinwalker attack, you will hear more coyotes howling than you ever heard in your life. What you have to do to protect this place and yourself is fire four shots from this 44 magnum, and they will go away.

So off they went. Man it was quiet, just wind and collar bells from the corral, spooky as hell. Left me some goat ankles to chew on for nosh while I sat with the 44 and read Watch For Me On the Mountain by Forrest Carter in the evening after running the sheep. btw yes am Scottish but stayed offa McCloud's Ewe, despite what Mick Jagger says OK, I was very interested in how and if this would go down.

Watched the clock. Dead on exact midnight four nights later, an army of coyotes started up a unholy chorus, more than I ever heard in one place, until later but thst's another story - and they were way off, but moving fast, getting louder, approaching through the dark desert from the mountain. No bs, exactly at midnight.

Four shots into the black sky. Instant silence.

And that is how I learned about skinwalkers.




In the timbers of Fennario, the wolves are running round,
The winter was so hard and cold, froze ten feet 'neath the ground.
Don't murder me, I beg of you, don't murder me. Please, don't murder me.


[Edited on 11/21/2017 by BrerRabbit]


KCJimmy - 11/21/2017 at 10:35 PM

Pretty darn freaky! Sounds like that was after they taught you about Peyote?


BrerRabbit - 11/21/2017 at 10:46 PM

Lol, logical surmise, but no peyote or jimson in play. Or weed whites or wine for that matter. Not a Carlos Castaneda deal where the paleface gets his mind blown out in Indian Country, I was kind of a bystander. Just described circumstances I saw with my own two eyes, notice I didn't offer any explanation, just the events.

For a rationalist like myself the biggest challenge, other than a huge white wolf in a region where wolves were long gone, was the old man's dead on call of of all those coyotes at exactly midnight, exactly four nights later. You would hear them often, but sporadic, and never in those numbers. Of course all could be coincidence, but sometimes you gotta just chalk it up to beyond your ken and move on.

Was straight as an arrow, that time in my life was the soberest I ever was. These folks were traditionalists of pre-peyote ways, they didn't need it - their world was plenty magic.

Was invited to join the Native American Church later on, but politely declined, due to the "high" demands of the commitment.

Anyway - that is the first time I told this story in detail to anyone since.




[Edited on 11/22/2017 by BrerRabbit]


Jerry - 12/2/2017 at 02:03 AM

quote:
Pretty darn freaky! Sounds like that was after they taught you about Peyote?


Yeah, I thought the same thing while reading that, but strange things happen all over.

BTW, did everybody enjoy Thanksgiving?

Today I was working in my home Office/workshop when i heard something fall on the wood floor in the living room. Couldn't find anything except a BB. Now, I have several air rifles and keep them in the kitchen and a bottle of BBs on top of the fridge. Don't know how one would get out of the bottle and fall on the living room floor, on the other side of the wall.
I did take one from the bottle and dropped it on the floor, same sound.
Decided to try if somehow it was on my workbench in the office and dropped one on the tile (ceramic tile) floor in there.
It made NO sound hitting the floor and bouncing. So it couldn't have been in the office.
Only thing I can figure is the young lady that committed suicide in the house (before I bought it) might be letting me know it's Christmas time and she wants a tree put up.

She's not a bad boarder, if my wife has a load of towels in her arms and the door to the linen closet is closed, it kinda moves open for her.


BrerRabbit - 12/3/2017 at 12:44 AM

Very strange indeed.

This is a weird one: Was on a bus from Athens to Savannah, all day local with stops in Augusta, Waynesboro, Statesboro and a whole bunch of other places til you got dizzy. Zigzags and sideroads all thru northeast-central Georgia. The Georgia road system is a tale of high strangeness in itself. Only place I ever came across where you could haunt yourself.

Talked with the driver to pass the time, elderly white-haired black gentleman, who as it turned out was a loyal ABB fan from the beginnings. A Baptist, he had some very radical and independent ideas about Scripture, some quite challenging to mainstream religion but commonsense. Really intelligent easygoing and entertaining fellow, I wish I could remember his name, one of those teachers you meet in everyday life and remember always.

OK, so we head back into the maze out of Waynesboro, next big town Statesboro, but made a sidetrip off a sidetrip to GA Route 305, west of Waynesboro, south of somewhere, east of someplace else, and everywhere from nowhere is how I was feeling as the sun kept coming through different windows.

Maybe half mile south of the intersection of 24 and 305, I think Vidette, the stretch to Rosier, or f.i.i.k. by now, I caught sight of a white scraggly midsize longhair lupus type dog, mostly bones, trotting along the roadside edge of a 40 acre field gone to seed and and a burned wreck cabin set back against the pines.

"Man that dog is in terrible shape."

"You seen that white dog?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Only certain people see that dog."

"The ones who didn't aren't missing much."

"That dog is a legend here, his name is Whitey 305. His owner passed on in that shack back there 20 years ago, ever since certain people see Whitey along the road here, every single time they pass by, day or night, always right in that hundred yards, always running that way. Majority never see him, think it's an old wive's tale. Checked it out a few times, slowed down and pointed him out, they don't see him, that's all I needed to know. I don't mention it now, you either see it or you don''t. I see him every single time I come through here for fifteen years."

"Doesn't make any sense, dog should be dead by now. And how did he survive all this time if he is running down this road, what, taking breaks and catching rats back there in that shack, does someone feed him?"

"Nobody feeds him, man. Figure it out for yourself."

OK, so a couple weeks later same bus, same driver, headed back up, left Statesboro out toward 305, passing by Whitey's run, no dog.

"Where's the white dog? You see it?"

"No man, that dog is dead. Got hit by a truck last week, see there, is a memorial folks left."

I didn't see the marker, we were moving too fast. Next year I was driving my truck from Athens to Savannah, decided to stop at the memorial marker of Whitey 305, mostly to see if it was really there. It was. A sign, with a poem which I copied down and will add here if I find it, and rocks and flowers and things, some fresh a year on. I left a big chunk of pipestone, which maybe is still there?

And that, children, is the story of Whitey 305.








[Edited on 12/3/2017 by BrerRabbit]


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