NOVEMBER 2009 The Supernatural Issue

Cover illustration by Zed's Not Dead

FEZ Sez__________________Circusmouse has trouble with the dictionary
'TRUE STORY'_____________________Bobby Wildside gets freaked out!
'Ghostly Goings On' ___________________________Spooky places in FNQ
Just Your Bad Luck______________________Some great advice from FEZ
'WITCH HUNT'______________________________Munky Harris is on form
'IS GEORGE ROMERO GOD & WAS JESUS THE ORIGINAL ZOMBIE?'__D.S.
Bum's View______________________________________Derek sees things
'THE MIND MATTERS'_________________Dave Schwan on Noetic Science

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Contributors

Munky Harris, Zed's Not Dead, Circusmouse, Bobby Wildside,
Dave Schwan

by Circusmouse

It’s my turn to do FEZ Sez, and I’m charged with introducing this month’s theme, “Supernatural”. Not being a big fan of ghosts and spooky shit, for inspiration I looked up the word in the dictionary. For scholars of the English language, it is fascinating, and its complexity and nuances confound native and non-native speakers alike. During my research I found that there are many words prefixed by “super” and using it often enhances their meanings to something better, greater or superior to the original. Say what? I know it’s hard, isn’t it? Imagine how I feel here in Cairns in the Woolshed on a Wednesday night when all everyone just wants to do is fondle wet T-shirted tits. Anyway, here’s some examples.
An ordinary hero not enough for you? No problem, we’ll get a superhero. You want more choice when buying food? Let’s hit the supermarket. Millions of litres of shiny black stuff to move around? One supertanker coming up!
So what’s the deal with “supernatural”? I’m confused. Is all that scary stuff that freaks me out and keeps me awake at night, cowering in the corner of the living room behind the sofa watching the shadows on the windows, actually an improvement on what the Holy Mother created? It’s at times like these that speaking Swahili seems much easier. Ni-ki-nunua nyama wa mbuzi soko-ni, ni-ta-pika leo.
As a footnote, actress Megan Fox has described her own beauty as “supernatural”. You can make your own minds up as to what she means by that.

*

We stoked the log fire, watching the embers spit and vanish up the chimney. I had moved into this grand town house only recently, taken in by its great views over the 12th century St Clement's Church. I was impressed by all the legends surrounding the area, from the 16th century late-night tavern-goers who had been snatched by navy press gangs on their way through the graveyard to the tales of the destitute orphans buried in the mass graves of the poor underneath the weeping willow tree.
And since moving in, life at the apartment had been pretty sweet for me just lately, with a hot new chick on the go and such a flashy pad to party in.
Kicking off her heels and teasing her skirt above her hips, Suzie arched over me in bed, and then eased down. When we weren't fucking, we'd be lost in a reverie of hugs and laughing.
Outside, the rain lashed against the window in furious, icy sheets. Suzie poured a big glass of red, rolled a fat number and lay back. We talked in the dark, two voices in the infinite blackness, with only the flickering orange readout of the CD player glowing benignly in the corner.
She began telling me how on this night four years ago, her former boyfriend had died in a car crash. Great, I thought selfishly to myself, that would be the end of tonight's good feelings.
"It was all so final," she said. "He was going out to meet a friend. I still can't believe it."
I nodded in sympathy, kissing her on the cheek, a cold, wet tear of her's rolling on to the tip of my nose.
"I wish I could have said goodbye." She began to continue again, but stopped, throwing her hands suddenly around my neck. "Did you hear that?" she gasped. I was loathe to admit it, but I had heard something, too. It was a voice, saying: "No. Don't." It couldn't have come from the CD, it was a dance track, there were no lyrics. Suzie scrambled out of bed. She was pulling at her clothes like a mad woman.
"Where's my coat?" she screamed.
"Downstairs. Where you left it."
"This place is a fucking nightmare," she said.
"Okay, okay, just calm down a minute," I said, trying to calm her down. She wasn't listening to me any more though. We both knew that once out of my bedroom we would face one very dark house. There was no hall light on the landing; to find our way downstairs, we'd come to rely on the faint, yellowy smudge of the street lamp outside. Once downstairs, I flicked on the light switch. There was a brief flash of light, and, then, BANG, right above us. The light bulb had exploded in the socket.
"Fuck, fuck," she yelled. "Find me the frigging car keys." She was hysterical, and I was only just managing to keep a lid on things myself. Into the car park, Suzie ran semi-naked to her car, screeching off in her old BMW. I didn't want to go back inside. It was 2am, I couldn't ring anyone at this time, surely. But I really had no choice. I decided I would walk around the block, calm down, and return to investigate. This must have all been some crazy coincidence, I thought. There had to be an explanation. That old bulb, well that was probably on the way out anyway, ready to pop at any time. And the voice on the CD? Maybe that was on that track all along, and we just hadn't noticed it before.
Walk done, I returned, opened the front door and braced myself. Now what? Music coming from upstairs? We had turned everything off, I was absolutely sure of that. It was coming from the front living room, the one overlooking the ancient graveyard and the River Thames. Shivers of electricity coursed along my forearms and down my spine. What was going on? Perhaps my flat-mate Chris had come back to the flat while l was out.
"Chris," I yelled. No reply. That was enough for me. I shut the door and grabbed a cab 20 miles up the road, to stay with an old mate I hadn't seen in five years. I told him about the night's events over a good few beers.
Next morning Chris my flat-mate rang me. "Hey, what was up with you last night? You must have been on it?"
"What," I replied.
He said: "Well, I got in at about five in the morning, so I come up the stairs. And you're crashed out in the chair listening to all this old shit on the radio." I remained silent. He told me how he reckoned whoever he had seen was listening to what sounded like a nursery rhyme on the stereo. And he said that in the big leather chair, he "saw" my legs poking out, with "my" trousers rolled up around the knees.

I'll never know what he saw because I sure as hell never went back that night, but when I returned a couple of days later to pick up my things and leave the flat for good, I found a piece of scrunched up paper. Upon it were written the words:

Oranges and lemons
Say the bells of St Clements
You owe me five farthings
Say the bells of St Martins
When will you pay me?
Say the bells of Old Bailey
When I grow rich
Say the bells of Shoreditch
When will that be?
Say the bells of Stepney
I'm sure I don't know
Says the great bell at Bow
Here comes a candle to light you to bed
Here comes a chopper to chop off your head
Chop chop chop chop the last man's head!
*

From the ghostly goings on in old pioneer pubs to the gruesome tales of ghouls seeking revenge on unsuspecting victims, the Far North has its fare share of things that go bump in the night.

One ghost still lurking about is the Barron River ghoul who said to have committed suicide when his girlfriend ran off with another man. Known as Henry, the drinker has terrorised staff, causing one member to flee after Henry caused havoc in the piano bar.

The Garradunga pub, near the croc-infested Eubenangee swamp north of Innisfail, is also said to have a resident ghost who can be heard crashing about in the room where he died.
At the Peeramon Pub on the Tableland, a ghost is said to follow guests about at night and then to sleep in their beds. The spectre is reckoned to be that of the pub's dead chef, who appeared in a photograph years after he had died. Rumours also say the ghoul could be that of a man in the 1920s who murdered his adulterous wife before shooting himself.

One of the spookiest stories is that of a Chinese miner who burned to death in the 1930s at the behest of the police. The ghost went looking for blood at the neighbouring campsite of the miner who carried out the deed for the cops. Miners Joe Jones and Dick Clarke asked the man, Ah Quay, why he was so scared. For hours back at the camp they watched as plates and bottles were hurled, detonator cords slithered about on the floor and fires erupted. Ah Quay's pal, Willie, was smothered by a blanket, but was saved only when the others tore it off. The hut burst into flames as the victims ran off.

There is also the case of the abandoned northern suburbs house, owned by a racehorse owner who spent lots of time overseas. The house gained a reputation for being haunted so the real estate agent offered it out rent-free for three months. A guy called George accepted the challenge, later coming to regret his actions when he saw the ghost of a woman in the garden. There was a storm and he was horrified on seeing the woman's gruesome face reflected in the window panes of the dining room. He also reported hearing a gurgling sound, like that of a person having their throat slit. Framed pictures fell off walls and George stayed on for one more three-month tenancy before leaving the house, which was eventually torn down.

*

• Burning a slice of toast on only one side.
• If pepper is spilled, you and a friend will argue.
• It brings ill fortune if a lease or any contract is signed in the months of April, July, or November.
• It is bad luck to sing before breakfast.
• It is bad luck to put your left foot on the floor first before getting out of bed.
• If someone is given a gift of a wallet without money in it, the person receiving the wallet will receive bad luck.
• It is bad luck to light 3 cigarettes with the same fart.
• If you meet a funeral procession or count the cars in one, this is bad luck.
• It is unlucky to see your face in a mirror by candlelight.
• Being vomited on while receiving oral sex.

*

In this age of rampant consumerism, where religion is reduced to a chocolate Easter egg, festive gluttony and a Boxing Day sale, and while our world burns up under our feet as the Anglican Church invests millions of dollars in mining giant BHP Billiton, we'd be forgiven for thinking the era of the brutal witch-hunt, involving religious zealots' fight against evil, belongs to the distant past.
Well, think again: instead of destroying the protestant dissenters of a 16th century Catholic Europe or female magick-doers, shrouded in black with a broom wedged between warty thighs, the religious right now encourages the masses to persecute those whom it tells us hide in the shadows of evil, those "terr'rists"; the hooded, cloaked agents of hell, who they say, are denying us liberty and the pursuit of happiness.
From the 15th to 17th centuries, the Christian Church recognised the theological threat of witchcraft, issuing manuals and tracts condemning the practice. It saw the act of witchcraft as a reversal of Christian doctrine, a threat to the stability of maintaining a ‘godly’ and well-ordered society. And couldn't we just apply those notions to the Taliban or Al Quaeda? Of course we can, and we do.
Whereas the witches of medieval Europe were blamed for crop failures, plague and disease, latter day scapegoats, are accused of similar ills. From the Jews of Nazi Germany (blamed for economic failure), to the communist purges of the 1950s Macarthyite era of the US (blamed for fomenting dissent during the Cold War), witch-hunts are launched in times of radical sociological, religious and economic change, to distract us, the people, from the real domestic problems of the day.
As we move ever increasingly from industrial to digital, christian to muslim, boom to bust, and with the constant threat of climate change and decreasing natural resources, it is possible to observe the growing victimisation of minority groups on our fateful journey to a One World Government.
Whereas witches were tortured to extract confessions using implements such as the Scold's Bridle (involving the head of the accused being locked in an iron cage that drove spikes through her tongue) or the European Catholics extracting confessions using ordeal by rodent (in which rats were placed on the stomach and a metal basin was placed over the rodents and heated with hot coals, ensuring the rats, in their escape, would burrow through the victims' stomach), the modern-day equivalent is Guantanamo Bay, where prisoners have been beaten, tortured with broken glass, barbed wire, burning cigarettes, and subjected to sex assaults to extract confessions.
The incarcerated are not tried by a jury, proceedings are held in private and they are presumed guilty unless they can prove they are innocent, in much the same way the witches of yesteryear were treated.
Somehow, our fairy-tale notion of crones riding broomsticks persists, when such women were nothing more than individuals who didn't fit the norm. The West's battle against the hill-dwellers of Afghanistan and Pakistan is no more than a 21st century version of an ancient game being played out by agents of the State against those it seeks to demonise.

"All wickedness is but little to the wickedness of a woman... what else is woman but a foe to friendship, an unescapable punishment, a necessary evil, a natural temptation, a desirable calamity, domestic danger, a delectable detriment, an evil nature, painted with fair colours… women are by nature instruments of Satan – they are by nature carnal, a structural defect rooted in the original creation."

Taken from the Malleus Maleficarum (The Hammer of Witches), published by Catholic inquisition authorities in 1485.

"The hijackers were instruments of evil who died in vain. Behind them is a cult of evil which seeks to harm the innocent and thrives on human suffering. Theirs is the worse kind of cruelty. The cruelty that is fed, not weakened, by tears. Theirs is the worse kind of violence, pure malice while daring to claim the authority of God. We cannot fully understand the designs and power of evil. It is enough to know that evil, like goodness, exists. And in the terrorists, evil has found a willing servant."

Remarks made at the Pentagon at the U.S. Department of Defense's service of remembrance, by President George W. Bush, 11/10/2001

*

Ok, we know what the current vampire fad boils down to. Apart from vampires mirroring the blood-sucking money-men responsible for the economic crisis, it's down to women wanting a vampire as the ultimate lover as long as he's one of the soppy new-age "vamps" so popular in chic-lit at the moment. And us guys, we all want to be vampires. Super strong, super sexy, up all night, sleep all day. It shits on rock'n'roll.
But zombies…what's with their recent resurgence in movies, books and video games? Girls don't want a rotting corpse for a partner, as his balls might fall off. And as stated, I'd rather be a vampire. But, these shambling stiffs have always lurked in the darker recesses of our imaginations, occasionally stumbling into the light to be exploited once more.
The Times of London recently named the zombie as the mascot of the economic crisis. During hard times and financial declines, interest in the zombie phenomenon often increases. Back in 1929, during the Great Depression, Crowley's mate WB Seabrook was the man who introduced the West to the zombie in his Haitian travel book, The Magic Island. As of writing, certain economists are using the zombie genre to describe the mess that has been made of our economies. They use terms such as "zombie bank" to describe a bankrupt financial institution that survives due only to governmental bailouts, and "voodoo accounting" is the hiding of expenses whilst inflating one's income. The zombie has remained in the mind of the public for so long due to the fact that he represents different things at different times.
For instance, one group of people still base their entire belief system, their religion, around a man who became a walking dead zombie! As is well documented, particularly in that best-seller The Bible, Jesus, the Son of God, died and was mysteriously reanimated to walk amongst the living again. Christians may scoff and write off voodoo and zombies as hocus-pocus or black magic, but it is they who show fear, awe, reverence, respect, and love, to their undead idol.

Originally, white colonials' fear of the rebellious African was represented by the zombie. In 1791, Haitian slaves, led by a voodoo priest, revolted against their French masters and set up a free country. This sent a wave of fear across Europe, being the only time that a slave rebellion had defeated a Western empire. It was at this time that the popular image of the evil voodoo priest raping and tormenting innocent white settlers was created. This led to the zombie becoming a parody of voodoo folklore, representing the white man's fear of the black man. These fears were used for propaganda purposes, dehumanising African slaves in the Americas and this fear of rampaging slaves, high on drugs, eventually led to the criminalisation of cocaine use.
In 1932, the first zombie movie, White Zombie, was released just as the American occupation of Haiti was failing and fear of black people was rife. As late as the 1950s, zombies in film represented the fear, racism and guilt of the white man and consisted of endless, blank-eyed black slaves under control of, and trying to escape from, the evil white magician.
1969 was the year that director George Romero and screenwriter John Russo gave us the "modern" zombie. Influenced by earlier film incarnations of the zombie and by writers like HP Lovecraft (Re-Animator) and Richard Matheson (I Am Legend), and combining post-apocalyptic themes with issues such as human rights, social conformity and our division over the war in Vietnam, they are responsible for the zombie as we see it today.
An accident, often unrevealed, causes the dead to return to life and walk again. They attack and eat the living, who in turn become zombified. For the classic tag line on Romero's second zombie fest, Dawn Of The Dead, read "When There's No More Room In Hell, The Dead Will Walk The Earth". Romero has recently added a 4th, 5th and 6th film to his initial output of three Dead films, though characters and storylines do not necessarily cross over from film to film. We have now come full circle with remakes of Night, Dawn and Day of the dead being added to the zombie repertoire and the Resident Evil series of video games, as well as many other games of varying quality, suggests that the genre still has some life in it.
However zombies are presented to us, the fact that they are us and we are them makes them both interesting and repulsive, and they make the perfect cannon fodder. You can do anything to a soulless zombie and feel quite justified in doing so. Blow its head clean off with a shotgun, take to the sucker with a hammer or chain it to the wall, knock out its teeth and have it perform oral sex on you (careful now), as you smoke cones packed from the mull-bowl imbedded in its skull…hmm?
Basically, the moment they reanimate, all bets are off. No more sympathy for dear old drooling mum, it's chainsaw time!
On the topic of sympathy and remaining feelings for the recently zombified, we come to the zombie in comics. Over the years, as with films, etc, there have been many zombies in comics, and more recently there have appeared many comics about zombies. They have been of varying quality but two of the better ones deserve a mention here, the reason being that their very existence hinges upon the current interest in their subject matter.
One of the best limited series from Marvel in 2006 was called Marvel Zombies and parodied both the zombie genre and the Marvel Universe. Written by Robert Kirkman with art supplied by Sean Phillips, it hit the market at just the right time with a story line in which the superhero characters became zombies due to contamination from an alternate Earth. Back to sympathy and confused feelings for now undead loved ones. In this series, the zombie Spiderman suffers from terrible feelings of guilt over his eating of his long-time girlfriend, Mary Jane, and his consumption of his surrogate mother-figure, Aunt May.
Kirkman is also responsible for the bestselling series The Walking Dead, a character-based, as opposed to an exploding-head-based, mega-issue exploration of the question "What would you do if a zombie pandemic became reality?" This series has slowly grown, due to word of mouth, into a juggernaut of the industry. One reason for its success is its relevance to the issues that we face today — alienation, depression, pandemics, all said to lurk around every second corner, the possibility of a coming apocalypse, etc. Another reason for our interest and fear of the zombie concept lies in our primeval reactions towards the mysteries surrounding death. Our cave-dwelling ancestors lived and died with a different understanding of life, death and what comes next, but similarities to our own beliefs did exist: such as the burying or the burning of the dead and the belief in a place that the dead or the soul travels to upon death. Even in those early days there would have been concerns that if not correctly treated, a person or his spirit may return to seek revenge upon the wrong-doer. Ghosts, spirits, demons, whatever, many cultures fear the return of the badly treated dead. One of the great mysteries of life is 'what happens next?' Death, a state of being that awaits all living tissue, thrills us, scares us and confounds us. Only plants and animals go to their end without the baggage we humans attach to the journey, and I envy them that simple understanding. We, in our quest for the answers to every question, have complicated and added unnecessary anguish to the simple act of dying, even to the extent of creating fantasies about eternal life, undead creatures and fountains of youth. Here for a finite time yet facing a possible infinite experience beyond our concept of time, we grasp at myths and legends in the hope that perhaps some inkling of what we face next will be revealed to help us on our way. Let's hope that heaven isn't populated by hordes of hungry undead.

*

Cairns is chock full of ghosts and other nasties says homeless man, Derek.

FEZ: Derek, how long have you been on the streets?
Derek: About 8 years.
FEZ: And you’ve really seen a ghost, then?
Derek: Sure, they’re everywhere. Pale, swollen, bodies, grotesque reddened faces, drooling and cackling like demented inhabitants of Dante’s Inferno.
FEZ: I see. Where do you see them?
Derek: All around the CBD, but mainly around the Lagoon.
FEZ: The Lagoon?
Derek: Yeah. Hundreds of them. Lazy, slack-jawed zombies.
FEZ: Derek, I think you’re talking about the tourists.
Derek: I’ve never heard them called that before.
FEZ: They’re not ghosts.
Derek: No? What are they then?
FEZ: Like I said, tourists, probably from New South Wales and Victoria.
Derek: I went to Sydney once. Lots of vampires down there……
FEZ: Yes, thankyou, Derek.

*

Until recently I had not been an admirer of Dan Brown nor a traveller on the Da Vinci Code (DVC) bandwagon. Having previously read a number of non-fiction titles, those that Brown used for research gathering purposes, I could bear to read only three quarters of DVC before tossing it aside and agreeing with the critic (name forgotten), who described the DVC as "complete and utter arse dribble". Strong words, indeed, and words with which I no longer concur.
Having completed The Lost Symbol (LS) and having reconsidered what DVC has to offer, I am like a man who has seen the light. Simply put, I believe that Brown is responsible for enlightening his quite numerous audience. Though his books, and I have read only the two mentioned above, present themselves as little more than average genre fiction, they reveal information and open the mind to concepts and ideas to which they would most likely have never been otherwise introduced. For example, in DVC, those who are Christians and followers of a Christ/bible-based faith are asked to question and reconsider some of the tenets of their belief system. Even sceptics and agnostics are introduced to much alternative information and schools of thought that encourage doubt and thinking for oneself as opposed to trusting without consideration. In an age in which some think that our education system is structured to teach the student to believe and remember, but not to think or question, and in a world where those who beg to differ may be labelled as traitors, as risks to national security or simply as un-Australian, the mere act of fostering a reflective attitude is to be commended.
Now, with the recent release of The Lost Symbol, I hope that there will be as much interest shown in the contents of this book, in particular the science of Noetics. I think it is important that such a subject has been placed in a position where millions of people will be introduced to it; people who previously may have dismissed such subject matter as new-age, hippy bullshit. But now, and remembering that magic is basically the art of mind over matter, aided by potions, recipes, words and symbols, many readers will be forced to reconsider what they believe and open up their minds to the amazing possibilities of Noetic Science.
Noetic Science (NS) can be described simply as the science and study of the untapped potential of the mind, intuition and our relationship with divine intellect. Among its principle purposes are the study of non-rational ways of knowing and how they relate to reason and the study of relationships between human and divine intuition. Western and Arabic noetic theory have been much influenced by philosophers like Anaxagoras, Plato and Aristotle. NS can be described as a multi-disciplinary field bringing together objective scientific tools and techniques with subjective inner knowing in order to study the fill range of human experience. In other words, we can know our world in several ways. Science focuses on external observations grounded in objective evaluation, measurement and experimentation – resulting in increased objectivity and reduced bias and inaccuracy in our observations. Another way of knowing is internal, or subjective, like gut-feelings, hunches and intuition, those experiences we have that cannot be proven or explained but which feel very real anyway. This way of knowing is what we call Noetic. The word Noetic comes from the Greek for "mental", from "to think", from nous.
From the purely materialist, mechanistic perspective, all subjective-Noetic-experience arises from physical matter, and consciousness is simply a by-product of brain and body processes. The Noetic sciences study the ways that consciousness may influence the physical world, consciousness being awareness – how we perceive, interpret and direct our attention toward our environment. Collective consciousness is how a group – an institution, society or species – perceives, attends to and makes meaning of the world. Consciousness, in its most universal sense, has been referred to as a "milieu of potential", the shared ground of being from which all experiences and phenomena come and to which they eventually return.
As described in LS, though, much use is made of cutting-edge technology in order to measure and see the results of noetic experimentation. Many of the discoveries were showing that the stuff of myth and magic was fast becoming a reality. Experiments done at the Institute of Noetic Sciences in California and also at the Princeton Engineering Anomalies Research Laboratory have categorically proven that human thought, when properly focused, has the ability to affect and change physical mass. Highly controlled enquiries all produced the same results = our thoughts, whether we are aware of it or not, interact with the physical world, affecting change down to the subatomic level = Mind over Matter. For example, in 2001, in the hours just after the events of 9/11, four noetics scientists discovered that as a frightened world came together and focused its shared grief on this single tragedy, the outputs of 37 different random event generators around the world became much less random. Somehow, the oneness of the shared experience, the coalescing of millions of minds, had affected the randomising function of these machines, organising their output and bringing order from chaos. This discovery parallels the ancient spiritual belief in "cosmic consciousness" a vast joining of human intention that is capable of interacting with physical matter. Recent studies into mass meditation and prayer have produced similar results to the 9/11 experience. This fuels the claim by noetic author Lynne McTaggart that human consciousness is a substance outside the confines of the body – a highly ordered energy capable of altering the physical world. Interested readers can read the McTaggart book – The Intention Experience.
Other research has shown that "focused thought"' can affect almost anything, from the growth rate of plants, the direction fish swim in a bowl, the way cells in a Petri dish divide, the synchronisation of separately automated systems and the chemical reactions in one's own body. Even the crystalline structure of newly forming ice crystals can be affected = beautiful, symmetrical crystals created with "loving" thoughts, chaotic, fractured forms made by negative thoughts. Such experiments prove that what was once called magic is, in fact, a reality! Mind affects Matter. At a subatomic level it can be shown that particles come in and out of existence based solely on the intention to see them. It has been also discovered that practice adds to such human abilities, and that some people are born more capable than others. This harks back to the existence of magicians, witches and people such as Jesus and Buddha, men and women capable of performing seemingly miraculous feats.
I feel that this re-discovery of human potential offers hope for humanity as we appear to be becoming more insular, more fearful, less educated and more under the control of ruling elites. It shows that we are all, to one degree or another, capable of initiating great change, both within ourselves and in the world and its surrounds. Our future is for us to imagine and then create.
Unfortunately there are negative aspects of these findings. Such abilities can also be put to evil purposes and a government in fear of its citizens realising new, powerful abilities may well attempt to suppress or eliminate such threats. Already news and information coverage is owned and controlled by the few, addiction to television, drugs, alcohol, tobacco and gambling disables and distracts millions of people and there are suggestions that unnecessary additives, such as the fluoride added to our water supplies, is there to deaden our senses and to possibly inhibit or destroy our noetic abilities.
Whether we see the reawakening of our noetic abilities as a positive or negative addition to our lives, it would appear that the world is in for a slow revolution. Even mass censorship of the subject can only keep the lid on for so long and when the church and government realise that such abilities can only add to the human condition, the world is bound to benefit from these rediscovered powers.

*

FEZ next month:
"TABOO"
Following on from this month, FEZ will take a look
at things we have no business looking at.
Got any taboos you wanna share?
Tell us all about it for your chance to win a prize.

Congrats to Munky Harris (again!) for winning last month's prize.

Contributions to:-
fez@randompress.com.au