Tag Archives: psychics

The Futurist

The Controller’s phone rang clamorously. He lifted it.

“We’ve found one, a prophet”.

“Bring him in”, the Controller said, and put the phone down.

Such people will work for us. Not themselves. Not anybody else.


Copyright 2015


Monopoly of Power

The Controller hated psychics. He hated psychics, witches, magical people, sensitives, shamans, mediums – whatever you want to call them.  Which made him so good at his job. A zealous, fanatical, paranoid hatred and fear only equalled by his employers.

His employers at one time had initiated psychical research in the hopes of mastering such super-abilities for themselves. What they discovered horrified them. Psychical abilities far from being rare were commonplace. No, not to a high order, but most people had a degree of psychic ability, and this was one element in the power of crowds. Get a large number of low level people together and together, if they had a single objective, their collective will had an effect. And not only in the psychic area.

As Jesus had said – where a number of people gather together –  prayer and meditation also released power.

Further the Controller’s employers had noticed the uncanny way artistic works predicted future events – sometimes a century in advance, when the prediction could not be based on a logical extrapolation of current events. Research confirmed that creativity in every area, literature, art, music, innovation, was associated with and often an indicator of psychic ability.

The Controller’s employers prime objective was to obtain a monopoly on power. They did not wait until their power was challenged. Any indication that anyone or any group had the potential to challenge or reduce their power set alarm bells ringing. That person became an immediate target for absorption, destruction or permanent removal.

At once society was awash with potential enemies. Creative children who wished to write, or paint, or play music, were now the remit of the Controller’s faction. Children who day-dreamed.  Skilled artisans who required imagination and creativity in order to innovate, to use their minds to enter new ground to solve problems. Political thinkers whose imagination could predict with some accuracy the direction events were going.

The Controller’s employers found themselves in a world of enemies. But most of all – psychics. Individuals in the population whose power could enable them to stumble on the truth of what the Controller’s faction were doing. Not only seeking to monopolise power by any method, legal or illegal. Moral or immoral. But to identify and absorb every intelligence, every talent in society into themselves or into their service.

They used the psychics they had conscripted to identify other psychics in the population, who would be targeted for recruitment or destruction.

They set to re-designing society to prevent the development of creative ability. Art works which anyone could create were lauded as masterpieces, showcased in pre-eminent art galleries and the artists ludicrously rewarded in fame and money. At the same time realism, and genuine skill was sneered at.

Education was re-designed to crush the innate creative exploration of children. To imprison their minds in cages of fear and anxiety, and draconian punishments for being different, thinking independently, or doing anything they had not been told they were allowed to do or think.

The general populace was bombarded with noise and social nuisance which the authorities blithely ignored. Creative people could find no peace to engage in creative activities as everywhere they went they were hounded by noisy, anti-social neighbours.

Spiritual types, people who wished to meditate and “connect” likewise were denied the safe space and quiet necessary for meditation or contemplative prayer.

Policies were put into place to herd people from the countryside where creativity flourishes into the towns and cities where their environments could be easily controlled.

A cult was designed to trap unsuspecting members of the public directly under state control to harass the people the Controllers’ most feared.

The people didn’t know it, but the power monopolists were their enemy, using every method, employing every institution to destroy any potential power among them.

The Controller’s legitimate targets were all psychics, religious people, intelligent people, creative people.

There was only one class of people the Controllers wanted.

Slaves.  Men and women only sufficiently intelligent to do the work and provide sexual entertainment. Everyone else was perceived as a threat.


Copyright 2015


The covert war against psychics and prayer people

From the moment ruling powers discovered psychic/magical/mystical powers were real it became a priority to corner the market. All people with such powers were to be identified, recruited, or if not recruitable, disabled and/or destroyed.

People with evil orientations were little problem. Without morality, serving evil and happy for the opportunity to have a licence to cause harm without repercussions, they could easily be bought.

The problems were the good psychics, the committed enemies of evil,  and prayer people, not psychics at all but channels of Divine Will. Their loyalties lay with good and the powers of good. But deception is the ocean spies swim in. In some countries the populace innocently believed in their governments – that they were moral, broadly subscribed to Christian values respecting God, upheld rule of law, subscribed to and were guardians of the values of the people – on this mistaken belief even good psychics and prayer people could be recruited. And because their loyalty/obedience could not be relied on, put under the authority of the evil psychics in order to control or break or destroy them.

Psychics were used to seek out any psychic/magical/mystical power occurring in the populace, from early childhood. To identify the power and set in motion the task whether to recruit – the evil ones, or disable or destroy the ones who worked for good. But those with exceptional powers would always be recruited while still children. With careful conditioning before their moral and social values had formed they could be converted. Children would disappear, apparently abducted. Everyone would remark how good the missing child was – like an angel.

Different formulas occurred for those with lesser abilities. They would be monitored to identify their capability. Their environment would be meddled with to obstruct psychic/mystical development. Noise is a frequent factor. Sexual and emotional abusers would be pushed at them. Every distraction possible to interrupt development of any ability. It was an early discovery that people with any type of creative ability often had mystical abilities. Rigid, narrow minded people rarely showed any talent. But liberal, open-minded, flexible thinkers often did. Societal programmes were instigated to handicap creativity – by obstructing learning opportunities, removing rewards, blocking venues, replacing real creativity with faux talent; polluting the general social environment with noise, criminal, anti-social and mentally unbalanced elements (including inclusion of children in every social venue, whose only reliable characteristic is generating chaos) to maximise social fear and uncertainty. Also re-designing education and social norms to prevent independent thought.

Identified psychics/mystics had interventions tailored to their individual talents. They would be monitored for development of their abilities, tested at intervals, specially designed psychic and other attacks would be implemented to shut down development, and they would be offered bribes in case they should be corruptible.

This is my story.

As an infant, aged about 3, (1955) I turned the corner of my country cottage in the garden and saw a large rat with glowing red eyes. Terrified I ran indoors to my mother who told me it couldn’t possibly be there. One of my earliest memories.

Aged about 5, just before falling asleep I opened my eyes in pitched darkness to see an evil face immediately in front of me – like an outline in chalk on a blackboard.

About the same age I woke up in the night – and this was the silent countryside – because I could hear an adult party going on. I heard voices and the tinkle of glasses. I followed the sound and went out into the back garden, where the noise suddenly stopped, like a door closing. I stood alone in the dark crying, then went back to bed.

Slightly older, I woke to find myself looking at the ceiling of the room about an inch above my face. I panicked and found myself back in bed.

About 7, other children at school who had lost things would come to me because I was able to help them find them. An aunt had given me a beautiful butterfly broach which I treasured and sometimes wore to school. Somebody spoke to me in my head saying “If you continue doing this one day you will find something better left unfound”. Shortly after I lost my broach. Another child found it and brought it back to me. The broach had been trampled and destroyed. The present was unusual as I was always given gifts I didn’t want.

A potential friendship with about the only child I had wanted to be friends with was forcibly broken up. The girl was a very devout Christian from a strong Christian family. We were on the same wavelength and understood each other.

I had early artistic tendencies. On one occasion I was in the countryside in the initial stages of a drawing of the countryside around me when it was like a hand forcibly took mine and deeply scored the delicate line of the horizon I was trying to draw. There was a feeling of great anger. I think something was said too, although I don’t remember. It was along the lines of “the likes of you? (Irish peasant?) shouldn’t be doing art”.  (I later won prizes at grammar school for art, but I virtually stopped drawing at primary school as a result of the shock of that experience).

Aged about 8 I looked out the window of a neighbour’s house to see a man on a parachute falling into the field opposite. I told the neighbour who went to look and said that wasn’t possible. We lived about two miles from a disused airfield which had been used in the war.

It was about the same time my mother described a strange experience. She said she looked out the window to see my father walking up the lane. She supposed he had come home early from work and went out to meet him. He wasn’t there. He came home as normal several hours later.

Aged about 13, I had attached a small bell to the light cord in my room. When I was home alone and it was quiet I happened to glance at the bell and had the random thought “If there is anyone there, let the bell ring”. It did. That freaked me out. I took the bell down.

On another occasion I was playing with a pack of cards. I thought to myself, I will name each card before I turn it over. I did. Three times in a row. In a panic I threw the cards down. But something felt wrong. It felt as if there was something evil in the room.


There were a handful of other odd events of a similar nature which occurred to me, my mother, father and a close friend (who later died at an early age. A very talented musician).

In retrospect one possible explanation for the quirk events was I and my parents were being tested. The tests indicated that we were all “receivers”. We could pick up messages sent to us. I possibly had some small degree of potential psychic ability along these lines, but the development was obstructed by various interventions including trauma attached to learning experiences, to close down the ability and general wholesale harassment in my environment.

Any tests indicating psychic ability indicate I am not psychic. A handful of quirk events over a lifetime is normal.

However, in middle age I discovered I was a prayer warrior. By then I speculated what the security services were doing and discarded my gift.


Copyright 2015 Prayerwarriorpsychicnot



If you are not with us, you are against us

The Controller flipped the intercom. “Send him in”.

The psychic entered the room glancing at the file on the Controller’s desk. The Controller gestured at it. “So, a lot of questions and no answers”.

“This is something new”.

“Are you sure you haven’t made a mistake?”

“His power is off the scale, but it is no known psychic ability”.

“How is it possible that you can’t identify his power?”

“Because he doesn’t do anything with it”.

The Controller rested back in his chair, “Ah, I see. He does not advertise as a psychic. He offers no services. He is not gaining any criminal advantage through use of his powers. Perhaps he wishes to avoid notice? Is he in denial you think?”

The psychic shrugged. “The group have had a lot of discussions on this. Some suggested he had moral or religious qualms. But  most thought perhaps he was unaware that he had any power”.

The Controller stared thoughtfully at the psychic. Then he smiled. “Then lets shake him and see what rattles. Dismissed”.


After the psychic left the Controller ordered the Black Magician to attend.

“You have heard of the problem?” he asked.

The Evil Magician nodded. “The Controller threw the file across the desk. “The case is yours”.

The Magician smiled. “But I will need resources”.

“What do you have in mind?”

“We invaded his mind. Standard procedure. He was unaware of course. I suggest we send the whole group in. He will of course be aware, know he is being violated, being subject to some form of attack. Perhaps he will discover he has some powers after all?”

“Do it”.


Alan was sleeping peacefully when he woke with a start. Someone, no, many someones were walking around in his mind, so many, he couldn’t count. “What the …” He focused. He wasn’t mistaken.”You won’t find it so easy to leave” he thought sourly, and turned over and went back to sleep.

The Controller was in a rage. Even the Black Magician shook slightly when summoned before him. “How many dead?” he shouted.

“Two, three. We got most of them out”.

“Incompetence. Gross incompetence! You are supposed to know what you are doing!”

“When dealing with an unknown what we do becomes an experiment. We attack, the target responds, then we know their power. We aren’t going to know what we are dealing with until we attack them. Are you going to conscript?”

The Controller turned to the Magician, his eyes black with rage, but spoke softly. “And how do you advise we recruit someone who can kill with a thought?”


Copyright 2015 Prayerwarriorpsychicnot

PS My inspirations come in part from that wonderful tv series “Mutant X” not to be confused with X-Men.

The Voice of God

The young man and woman, both handsome strode down the street in perfect time as  they marched to a drum that only they could hear.  They wore no uniform but their demeanour declared they were proud soldiers, waging  war against tyranny, fighting for their country’s freedom.

They set their bomb, then went home, duty accomplished.

When the Controller received the account of the casualties of the freedom fighter’s fellow countrymen and women, so many dead; injured a multiple of ten of the dead; lives shredded by the bomb another multiple of ten of the injured, he sighed with satisfaction. He glanced at the psychics, one male, one female still at their stations.

“Good work. ‘Voice of  God’ never fails”.

The male psychic shifted slightly. “‘Heart of the Nation’ in this case, Sir”.

“‘Voice of God’ , ‘Heart of the Nation’, what’s the difference?” he said easily. “They get their orders from here”.

Laughter started to bubble to the surface. The evening before he had visited the bomb site as the bodies and wounded, and bits of bodies and hysterical walking wounded staggered from the maw of man-made hell. How he had laughed. The laughter burst from him uncontrollably now and the psychics, sensitive nerves wound to breaking point exploded in laughter too so that the room with its ghostly shadowed computer screens echoed with laughter, drowning out the silent screams, and cries of anguish echoing endlessly in the psychics heads.


Copyright 2015  Prayerwarriorpsychicnot