Sitting before you is a small, limbless, asexual being resembling Casper the Friendly Ghost, smiling and jerking around as it works to manifest a friend for you, who sits a good distance away speaking into a webcam. What’s going on here?
If Japanese robotist Hiroshi Ishiguro could have his way, this little creation, the Telenoid R1, would likely replace instant messaging and webcams altogether, providing a semi-realistic chat experience with friends remotely.
These days, it seems I hear more and more about Sleep Paralysis. In my estimation, this must be due in part to the way that the culmination of information pertaining to strange phenomenon today has allowed an “overlap” of experiences. What I mean by this is that the variety of sources available allow people to relate to others who have had similar things happen to them, whether that be sleep paralysis, an encounter with a ghost, or perhaps a hallucinogenic episode that is remarkably similar to both of these.
But when it comes to Sleep Paralysis in particular, nobody comes to mind more quickly than my friend Louis Proud, author of the book Dark Intrusions: An Investigation into the Paranormal Nature of Sleep Paralysis Experiences (a close second would be Dr. David Hufford PhD., who authored Proud’s introduction). Recently, Louis sent me a recorded segment he has done where he gives a wealth of information about the nature of Sleep Paralysis, delving into a variety of the subjects discussed in his book, as well as rather startling personal experiences of his own with the phenomenon. Below is a link where you can listen to Louis discussing the scientific and paranormal nature of this strange sleep science:
In my book Magic, Mysticism and the Molecule, there are many instances where I discuss the various cultural parallels that exist between people around the world who use methods of entering mystical states (or altered states of consciousness) with interest in communicating with what might be some form of sentient, universal intelligence. In several instances, these parallels specifically involve the appearance of the spirits of the dead as well.
A rather obscure reference to a psychedelic substance used to evoke such an experience was recently discussed at Daniel Pinchbeck’s site Reality Sandwich, in which author Charles Shaw outlines the way the peculiar drug ibogaine, understood to have remarkable abilities in reversing addiction to drugs like heroin, is also used by African tribes to contact their elders (image, right, by Cliff1066 via Flickr).
Ibogaine is a naturally occurring alkaloid, derived from the Tabernanthe Iboga plant found in West Central Africa. “The iboga root bark contains a powerful psychedelic that has been used as a religious sacrament for centuries,” Shaw explains. Among the Bwiti religion of Gabon, ibogaine is actually a common facet of their rituals, during which Shaw says that “large amounts… are consumed and the initiates are known to enter visionary states where they meet their deceased tribal elders — what they call “the work of the ancestors” — and confront their shadow selves as a means of becoming aware of negative behavior patterns and character traits which cause illness and impede spiritual growth.”
Growing up, one of the most frightening stories of a “possessed possession” that I can recall dealt with psychic disturbances emanating from a strange, sullen little doll named Robert, who now resides in a museum in Key West. Little did I know he has a sister out there too… but I digress. First I’ll present a “refresher” dissertation on the homely little doll to our left, who appears here courtesy of the fine folks at the East Martello Museum in Key West.
As the story goes, owner Robert Eugene Otto had shared an unsettling affinity with the stuffed toy, given to him by a maid who lived with the family. It became part of the legend that the maid had actually been a practitioner of voodoo, thus leading to the negative energies which seemed to accompany the doll. Though Robert (the boy) was known to be very fond of the toy, keeping it with him as he honed his craft as a painter, he would often blame mishaps that occurred on the property on Robert (the toy). Upon his owner’s leaving to attend college, the doll was eventually banished to the attic of the Otto home to live alone in solitude (and extreme summertime stuffiness).
This wouldn’t end the “devil doll’s” strange activity, however. Many school children claimed to have witnessed the strange apparition of a small, featureless “man” dodging from window to window in the upstairs of the Otto family home, peering at them menacingly as they walked to school. Eventually, Robert’s hi-jinks became so legendary that he was donated to the East Martello Museum, where he still resides. Even night watchmen there claim that he will occasionally change positions in his glass display while no one is looking.
Growing up, one of the most frightening stories of a “possessed possession” that I can recall dealt with psychic disturbances emanating from a strange, sullen little doll named Robert, who now resides in a museum in Key West. Little did I know he has a sister out there too… but I digress. First I’ll present a “refresher” dissertation on the homely little doll to our left, who appears here courtesy of the fine folks at the East Martello Museum in Key West.