Psychics and Mediums

[thecactus]

Psychics and Mediums are something i always thought were a load of rubbish, until recently - now Im not so sure.

I do believe that most are probably con artists but possibly some are the real thing.

I was reading an autobiography recently about a man who was caught trafficking drugs and was detained in a bankok jail for 12 years. This man says he believes in absolutely nothing - religion/God/ghosts/aliens - nothing, but cant explain something which happened him once.

He was in India trying to make drug contacts, but they were not having much luck - going from one area to another. It was taking weeks. He had met a girl who was very unhappy and wanted him to help her - he felt like he was in love with her. One day he walked off a main street onto a very run down slum area. He came across a fortune teller.

He walked in and there was a very old woman - she wanted money, he gave her it. She then told him to sit and he was looking all round thinking it was funny that he was there, as he was a complete skeptic. She then suddenly said 'you were born on ...... at .....(the time). He froze dead - he was born on this exact date at this exact time.

Now he was listening with full concentration. She went on to tell him that he was about to come into 10 years of very bad luck. She told him that there was a woman he liked - she said that this woman is evil and do not let her get anything that might contain his hair like clothes or a comb or even nail clippings etc. She told him to be careful around airports. She told him he would never again return to india.

She was right about everything except him not returning to india - he came back once, a few weeks later, briefly for a couple of days but that was the last time.

The 10 years of very bad luck - he was caught and did 12 years in a bankok jail - heres a description:


Think about the most wretched day of your life. Maybe it was when someone you loved died, or when you were badly hurt in an accident, or a day when you were so terrified you could scarcely bear it. No imagine 4,000 of those days in one big chunk.


In 1978, Warren Fellows was convicted in Thailand of heroin trafficking and was sentenced to life imprisonment. The Damage Done is his story of an unthinkable nightmare in a place where sewer rats and cockroaches are the only nutritious food, and where the worst punishment is the khun deo - solitary confinement, Thai style.


Fellows was certainly guilty of his crime, but he endured and survived human-rights abuses beyond imagination. This is not his plea for forgiveness, nor his denial of guilt; it is the story of an ordeal that no one would wish on their worst enemy. It is an essential read: heartbreaking, fascinating and impossible to put down.



He was caught at the airport.

[thecactus]

Heres another bit from a book called exorcisms in ireland - a mans wife dies and he is heartbroken, he doesnt know what to do for months, visiting his priest etc...He eventually decides to visit a medium:




‘He told me about the séance,’ the minister says, ‘and no detail was spared!
I had to keep myself from smiling because it was as if he was telling me about
something from Victorian times. From the way he described the house, I got
the picture of an old rambling place with heavy dark furniture and velvet
curtains. One could almost see men with wing collars and the women in bonnets.
Peter wasn’t sure if somebody actually lived there or it was owned by the
group. There were nine of them that evening, including Peter: three gentlemen
and six ladies. Most were elderly with the exception of a young man of about
twenty-five, a first-time visitor like Peter. The poor fellow had apparently lost
his wife in a drowning accident. He was hoping to be able to contact her.’
Peter joined the others in a room on the first floor. He remembered it as
having a very high ceiling, a big fireplace that appeared to have been boarded
up, heavy wine-red curtains which were already drawn although it was early
on a summer’s evening. There was a faded Turkish carpet and a small table in
the middle of the room, only a little bigger than a card-table, but circular, with
chairs arranged about it. Peter and the others took their seats.
All except him and the young man were relaxed and talkative. They discussed
such matters as ‘spirits’, ‘channels’ and ‘the other side’, relating the
words and deeds of their ethereal interlocutors as others might comment on
a recent episode of a soap opera. Someone revealed how a spiritist group in
Edinburgh had made a breakthrough of some significance that very week, apparently
involving an ‘apport’. The group members were impressed.
Peter wondered when the medium would join them. They had been seated
in the room for a half hour or more and there was no sign of her – he assumed
the medium would be female. He was taken aback when one of the ladies
present, the most unprepossessing of the three, abruptly requested that the
main light be dimmed, and announced she was ‘ready to begin’.
11
She invited the participants to link hands around the table and called for
all talk to cease. Peter had paid no attention to the windows when entering
the house, but decided then that those in that particular room must be double
glazed; there was only the whisper of sounds from the road. The light was
fading. He was sitting almost directly across from the medium. He watched
in curiosity as her head drooped slowly down onto her chest, until she appeared
to have fallen asleep. But she had not. To his consternation, she began
to growl.
‘Not really a growl in the sense of an animal, a big cat or something,’ Dr
Elliot says. ‘Peter described it as being more the sound of somebody clearing
their throat, but drawn out. He did an impression for me. It was not unpleasant.
Like somebody grunting with satisfaction.’
Almost at once, something utterly out of the ordinary occurred. Peter had
been expecting a gradual preamble to the proceedings, perhaps the medium’s
renewing acquaintance with ‘spirit guides’ and what not. This he had been
prepared for, he said. He had come to the séance with mixed feelings, the
Christian side of him finding the idea of necromancy faintly repugnant, his
despairing side ready to grasp at straws. The last thing he expected was that
the proceedings would commence with his own circumstances; he was startled
when the medium spoke his name. But the voice she used was not her own. It
sounded uncannily like that of Mary Rickett.
‘Peter,’ she said. ‘Oh, Peter!’
He was dumbstruck. To be sure, he had come to the house in Rathgar with
the express purpose of receiving confirmation. Confirmation that the soul
does indeed survive death. Confirmation that his lost love was not entirely lost
to him. Confirmation that she it was who had visited him in the early hours
of morning. Confirmation that she would visit him again. But, for all that, he
was awed and afraid when Mary’s voice came issuing from that mouth, from
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the lips of a complete stranger, from a woman who never knew Mary in life
and could not possibly know her in death.
Or so it seemed to Peter.
‘Pray for me, my darling,’ she said. ‘Will you promise to pray for me?’
He could not answer her.
‘I am in a cold place,’ the voice said, issuing perplexingly from the woman
slumped opposite. ‘There is no warmth here, Peter. I am so cold, so alone.
That is why you must pray for me. Will you do that?’
He found his own voice at last.
‘Yes – anything, Mary,’ he croaked. ‘Anything for you.’
‘Thank you, Peter. I will come to you again, my darling. I’ll come to you
when you pray for me.’
With those words, the spirit of Mary evidently departed, to be replaced
by that of another woman. The intonation was different, and she introduced
herself as ‘Paula’. There was a gasp from the young visitor. It seems that his
drowned wife had manifested by way of the medium.




I havent read this book, but I think this might have been a 'demon' impersonating his wife - Im not sure, there is more to this story.

[D B Sweeney]

and that's what?

DB

[thecactus]

huh?

[Agentscott]

What a busy week i'm having.
Great story there Cactus will look forward to the rest of it.

[thecactus]

[D B Sweeney]

Do you believe in demons Cactus and do you not think Catholic Priests are a little biased when it comes to being impartial?

DB

[thecactus]

i dont know if demons exist or not, and if they do what they are - fallen angels or dead evil humans - yes catholic priests have a very structured belief system

believe like children