This is a most unusual book.
For one thing, it’s not fiction, although the subject matter (remote viewing — sending one’s consciousness, or at least one’s perception, across space and time to witness an event, past or future) and plot (cloak-and-dagger CIA spying and assassination attempts) sound more like fiction than not.
The author, David Morehouse, tells his own story of becoming receptive to odd visions after a head injury. He is recruited to join Stargate, a top-secret psychic espionage organization run by the government, and ultimately has a falling out with the group that threatens his health, his career, his life.
Whether you believe it or not, it’s a fascinating story. And if you do believe remote viewing is possible, then this story becomes somewhat shocking.
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My kit has a fixed hi-hat and a cowbell just above the floor tom on the right side, and it always feels good to ride on either of the metal instruments in a quarter-note groove, playing the offbeats on the floor tom with the same hand. That’s the way to learn this groove: start with the ride hand, then add the kick, then the snare accents, and finally the ghost notes on the snare. Then, if you’re feeling underutilized, play the hi-hat with your foot on the offbeats, or better, splash it open on the downbeat, and close it on the offbeat.
This transcription doesn’t show the ghost notes, but they’re played on most of the e’s and a’s — whatever feels good.
1e+a2e+a3e+a4e+a1e+a2e+a3e+a4e+a CB o o o o o o o o FT o o o o o o o o SD O O O KD o o oo o o o oo oo HH o o o o o o o o
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I am driving on the highway. It’s 9:03 in the morning. The microphone is on low sensitivity. The fan is one notch above “low”. I’m doing 60 miles an hour with the windows closed and I’m curious how you feel about talking into a microphone. And the reason I ask this question, ask, the reason I ask this question, is because, I’d like to know about quality bootwear. And you are the man when it comes to quality bootwear. Ahh, you are the man in town to talk to, and as we’re switching the microphone over to high sensitivity I’d like to ask you what your feelings are, again, about insulated hunting socks. Because, the little batteries, those little batteries cause me such pain, ahh, as they don’t fit between my toes. Normal conversational tone. What happens if I open a window a little bit, got a little window action happening, is this still a normal conversational tone, or am I shouting above the wind? Ahh, these are questions that remain to be answered, umm, in the van, in the truck, high sensitivity, switching with the open window back to low <click> sensitivity, low sensitivity, talking, jabbering, jabbering, jabbering, merrily away, and have a good day!
The first half of this novel is fascinating and very difficult to put down. Grisham weaves two disparate stories into one. The reader can assume that the two plotlines will meet, but still, when they do, the result is shocking.
I found the ending to be somewhat unbelievable, given what we’re told about certain of the characters, but all in all this was an enjoyable thriller… with some thoroughly likeable characters, generally believable situations, and as usual, many chapters that end in such a way that beginning the next chapter immediately is unavoidable.
Any Grisham fan will like this book, I predict, as will anyone who likes legal or political thrillers.
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I spent Friday morning at MacWorld Expo in San Francisco. This was about my 5th time there. I think this was one of the lowest-energy shows I’ve seen.
I’d seen the press lamenting that Apple had no grand announcements, but that wasn’t the problem. I think this Expo was smaller than previous years: the corners seemed empty, and there were a lot of places to sit and chill out. The ends of the halls were curtained off. And several large vendors were not present.
For example, I was surprised DigiDesign was not there. I had specifically hoped to see them (to complain that their lame software isn’t compatible with OS9). But the “Digital Audio” area of the Expo had only a few forgettable booths and a lot of empty carpet.
The best thing about this year’s Expo is that I didn’t catch a horrible disease. I worked in a booth at the 1996 show, and after four days of exposure to imported germs and tainted business cards I felt like I wouldn’t survive the day. I spent the next 48 hours on my back with a 102° fever and vowed never to work another trade show.
I was only a tourist at this year’s show, but still I was cautious… piles of colorful schwag could be teeming with the Expo Flu, or, what the hell, Ebola, for all I knew. I washed my hands seven times in three hours.
Earthlink was giving away orange “gel” pens. I picked one up as a curiosity; I assumed there had to be more to it than what I could see, which was a ballpoint pen attached to a squat tube filled with some sort of gunk, on a lanyard. But, no, that’s all it was: pen, gunk, neck strap. When I got home, I unscrewed the end to divine if maybe there was something more there, something I missed with some sort of geek appeal, and this piece of trash dumped goo all over my desk. I curse Earthlink’s marketing department.
There was a great article on schwag in Wired recently.