Вожак на крыше

Лос Анджелесские зарисовки ; Eng: 10/06/2019

Просыпаюсь, гляжу в окно,
а он уже там — черная птица на крыше. Одна!
Сидит на углу: Под ним-ней стена
на  восток бежит, а под углом  — на север!
И не птица он вовсе, а  птиц — вожак, и вояка,
как сторежовой божок на корме варяжского судна,
как муэдзин на балконе мечети
исполная азан – зов на молитву
покорности и послушания.

Сидит он там один,
ждет зарождения нового дня.
И своих послушниц в черном,
если не забыт наказ предков
в дальний путь собираться.

Восход угольком очертил пернатого муэдзина,
И безгласный азан он свой прокричал.
Солнце восходит, и птица первая прилетает, и
вторая, двадцатая, сороковая
Как в кадре одноименного фильма Хичкока —
на проводах тесными рядками расселись;
мечтая, как скинут свой туалет безбрачиия,
и нарядившись росинками алмазными,
любовным утехам отдадуться,
и сонм птенцов неизвестно откуда поиявится.

И пустилась та, которой на проволоке сидеть надоело,
в полет, кружит плавно перед вожаком,
старика смущая, крыльями взмахивая,
изысканной дугой круги вымеряя,
красотой своей зависть подруг вызывая.

День придет, и полетит стая на Север,
за одно, мою душу прихватив, чтобы не опоздала покаяться,
что бы пустили мечтать, в глубь сознания нырять,
следующий виток земной жизни создавать…  

 

Назовите тех, кто сегодня прочел роман «Война и мир»?

Назовите тех, кто сегодня прочел роман «Война и мир»?

В местной русско-язычной газетке, не помню в какой именно, так как их развелось множество в нашем 18-миллином Лос Анджелесе, появилась статья — простите не помню имя автора — в которой тот резко критиковал и Толстого, и его описания как войны так и мира в уже упомятом сочинении, мол язык тяжелый, и страниц слишком много, и вообще, автор отыскал цитатку, в кототой Толсой якобы признался, что никогда еще не писал такой ерунды, как роман «Война и мир».

Америка потрясающая страна, здесь свобода слова, и любой может напечатать, что ему в голову взбредет. Наш любимый Невзоров однажды сказанул в ютубе, что беда Пушкина в том, что он не интересовался строительством тракторов в Царицыне, и ему было наплевать на достижения Теслы. В Питере , говорят, также, наконец, установилась свобода слова.  И мы, как люди широкие и на многое способные по части разрушения, пошли, как говорится, косить классику.

Теперь о главном.  Я в теории не сильна, но могу рассказать историю, имеющую прямое отношение к делу – нужно ли сегодня читать «Войну и мир», или можно обойтись Гарри Поттером.

Меня зовут Татьяной, а друзья Татой, и по волею судеб, мне, старой деве, выпало кормить, одевать и в школу водить племянника, сына брата, который развелся, и трудно понимал что делать с  ребенком. Он сплавил его мне, и, освободившись от груза, окунулся в свою жизнь и свои проблемы.  Я, кинокритик, жила на вольных хлебах, и  когда из пяти рецензий написанных, печатали одну, то каким-то образом нам хватало на мешок риса, который нас всегда выручал. Утром Володя шел в русскую школу, а из русской мчался в эстонскую хидожественную школу. Но причем здесь «Война и мир», спросите вы.

Жизнь менялась, эстонцы припоминали нам, как мы, чуть ли не каждого пятого высылали в Сибирь, а когда, Хрущев стал наконец строить хрущебки, селили туда не эстонцев из коммунальных квартир, а новожилов из Псковской губернии, людей, не вызывавших симпатии у местных…. Мне приходилось слышать в транспорте русскую речь: «Мы их освободили, а они, не благодарные, носы от нас воротят».  Я стала замечать, что Володя возвращался из школы мрачыный и сгорбленный…. Молчал, еще мал был, чтобы словами выразить то, что витало в воздухе….

Что я могла сделать, как поддержать дух ребенка, который говорил по-эстонски с русским акцентом? Не знаю, какой ангел надоумил меня, но как-то, уезжая на работу в Таллинн – на лето мы снимали избушку у самого моря на эстонском острове Хийумаа, я дала Володе одну единственную книжку «почитать», а именно «Войну и мир» Толстого. Правда, до отъезда, я зашла к эстонке Валли, которая продавала нам молоко, кортошку и присматривала за Владимиром в мое отсутствие и попросила ее не давать Володе никаких иных книг, мол пусть читает то, что я ему оставила прочесть.  До той поры главной книгой Володи служила повесть о сыне полка. Почему я уверилась, что «Война и Мир» будет ему по зубам? Не знаю. В пятницу вечером я вернулась на наш благослевенный остров Хийюмаа. Володя встретил радостно две сумки, которые я притащила, но в глаза старался не заглядывать. Как тебе «Война и мир», спросила я невзначай.  «Я это читать не собираюсь, там по-французски», услышала я в ответ.  «Не страшно, следующая страница и все последющие уже по русски, ободрила я его. А Володя сделал свои выводы, что коль мне это известно, не исключено, что я читала эту тягомотину и ему не сдобровать, придется читать.  «Ты мне что-нибудь почитать привезла?» с надеждой в голосе спросил Володя.  «Нет!» прознесла жестокая я, вовсе и не мама, а всего лишь тетя, сестра Вовиного отца.

Последующую неделю я снова отбывала на работе в Таллинне, а когда явилась с сумками на остров, Володя меня поразил.  Помогая разгружать продукты, он то на память, то заглядывая в книжку, цитировал мне выдержки из бессмертного романа Толстого. «Ты только послушай, что здесь написано!»

На дочитывание романа ушла еще неделя.

Увлечение романом не убывало. Видимо, его затянули в роман не сюжет и действие только, то есть, интерес, что будет дальше»… а  нечто, что витает над словами, помимо слов, нечто, что так трудно поддается описанию, но без чего чуда творчества не рождается.  Володя как-то повзрослел, и глаза его светились добрым, ясным светом.

В нашу глушь почему-то не довезли колонку с газом. Мы остались без супа и чая.  Володя вдруг говорит в свои 14 лет, мол, не беда, я дострою камин….

Я закричала, мол, мы дачу спалим, ни в коем случае…

Володя уселся в угол и надулся, и снова появился тот знакомый мне горбик  на спине, который он привозил из школы, думаю от страха, что если поймут, что он русский, могут обозвать русской свиньей – vene siga.

Подумав немного, я извинилась за мое недоверие и добавила: «Строй! Я больше не вмешиваюсь!»  Через несколько часов мы пили горячий чай. Оказывается, он уже нашел и камень и  глину, но знал, что будет, если он будет со мной советоваться…  И я поняла, что с ним случилось что-то важное во время чтения книги «Война и мир» —  у него открылись новые каналы , которые связывают нас Источником, с высокочастотными потоками космической энергии, которые ускорили его развитие, сделали его самостоятельным, а мне осталось только отпустить его в его жизнь, и не подрезать ему крылья моими страхами и наставлениями.

В 1989 мы оказались в Америке. За первые три месяца, Володя стал понимать американцев, и постепенно стал говороить по-английски без какой-либо посторонней помощи. Он работал. Сам платил за обучение в колледже и нынче работает на себя как архитектор. Все ли в его жизни гладко, не уверена. Но «Война и мир» не инструктаж по устраиванию быта. Чтение этой книги подготовило его к новой жизни, а главное помогло ему в его профессии. Он легко учился в колледже, с первого раза сдал трудный экзамен на право работать архитектором в Лос Анджелесе, в тол[е претендующих на это право,  ему попадалис;ь профоессионалы, который десятый раз сдавали…

Мне кажется, нам русским именно сегодня не надо спешить списывать со счетов книгу «Война и мир» — это книга дана нам, и сегодня нужна нам более, чем когда- либо, потому что поход Великого Хама на Россию далеко не закончен, а продолжается. После того как рухнул СССР, мы, россияне, понеслись вскачь догонять Запад, но берем у Америки не  Хемингуея, а ночные клубы и снежок у ночного велосипедиста. И нет у нас сегодня другого противодействия дурманам, как наша классичекая литература и классическая музыка…  Как-то моим знакомым захотелось посмотреть на моем большом экране американскую экранизацию «Войны и мира» 1956,  с Одри Хепборн в роли Наташи, и Питером Фонда, которому досталось воплощение образа Пьера Безухова. Amazon Prime предоставил нам такую возможность. Фильм не устарел. Мы получили  огромное удовольствие от блестящей постановки. А я почувствовала, что еще большой вопрос, какая экранизация, американская или более поздняя русская, передает более полно дух  романа, и совершенно однозначно, что американская экранизация превосходит русскую и по вкусу и такту, качеству актерской игры. Одри Хенборн в роли Наташи еще не переиграл никто. Не исклюичено, посмотрев американскую экранизацию, вам захочется снова  перечитать роман, и вы вновь откроете для себя ту Россию, которая когда-то была, но потеряна нами навсегда.

Следы спиритов на постели

 

Вчера вечером я рассказывала эту историю на дне рождения моего близкого родственника, то есть, на семейном сборище малых и старых, тинейджеров и взрослых. Горячительного лишнего никто не употреблял, если мы и согрешили, то перееданием вкусной едoй, которой отличаются русские застолья в американском зарубежье. Когда мы, наконец, расправились с вырезкой Ribeye, рыбой различных сортов, окрасок, и видов приготовления, пропели Happy  Birthday, а дети кинулись гасить свечечки на роскошном торте, и подали черный кофе, чтобы выдержать напор вкусностей, а старикам включили их любимое московское шоу на базе вечно живых воспоминаний о «Синем Огоньке», от которого детки тутже смылись к своим копмпьютерам, а я отважилась приступить к моему рискованному рассказу о духах, в которых никто из присутствующих, естественно, не верил.

Я как медиум, который  не только слышит мертвых, но и может беседовать с ними как  я говорила бы с вами. Мои родные считают этот дар недоразумением природы, а меня не то белой вороной, не то черной овцой семейства. С годами, я привыкла, что мои родные посмеиваются над моей уверенностью в существовании потусторонней жизни, и прощают мне мои заскоки по принципу: «чем бы ни тешилось дитя, лишь бы не плакало оно!»

И думаю , мне было трудно удержаться от рассказа о материальных следах, оставленных духами в моем жилище именно потому, что, наконец, у меня оказался на руках редкий козырь, редчайшее доказательство моей правоты, обнародование которого вазвратило бы мне нормальное положение в семейной иерархии, утерянное в связи открывшемуся каналу омнислышания.

Но если «слышание голосов» замарано подозрениями в шизофрении и галлицюнаций, то восприятие знаков оставленных спиритами, не требовало никаких сверхестественных качеств вроде ясновидения или яснослышания или супер-развитой интуиции – хватало нормального зрения и нормального, среднестатистического обоняния.

—Ты помнишь ленинградскую Леночку, ясновидящую, которая останавливалась у нас, когда приезжала в Таллинн?—спросила я моего племянника.

—Конечно помню!—ответил Владимир.

—Она плохо кончила, умерла бездомной на улицах Москвы. Она рассказывала, что ей открыли канал яновидения при помощи наркотиков, далее она обрела зависимость от героина, оказалась на улице бездомной, и рано умерла от передозировки. Как и было когда-то предсказано в далекие перестроечные годы…. Она прибыла ко мне в Лос Анджелес, обосновалась в моей ауре, и однажды … рассердилась на меня.

Родственники навострились, и я рассказала им, как однажды, придя домой, я почувствовала в квартире странный запах – напоминающий  и по запаху и цвету младенческие экскременты, или кал. Цвет желтовато-светлокоричневый.  Размер — скорее всего десятая или пятнадцатая доля человеческих фекалий. Бежевые пятна покрывали пол около обеденного стола, украшали стулья.

В спальне специфический запах кала оказался тошнотворным. Вся непостеленная постель – простыни,  одеало,  покрывало на краю постели и пол моей небольшой спальни был усеян маленькими кучками кала, который произвели спириты. Инициатором расправы со мной оказалась нетрезвая Леночка, “начальница,” как рассказывалса стая девиц из русских домов терпимости, погибших на нарко-передозировках.  А ко мне они попали по  инициативе одного духа Вячеслава, который считал себя осведомленным в делах бизнеса.

Я принялась отмывать квартиру. Труднее всего было отстирывать постель, так как стирать приходилось все от одеял до подушек и матрасных подстилок – слава Богу, что я пользовалась таковыми.

Но дело на этом не закончилось. Мне пришлось отмывать от «духовных»  какашек  все постельное белье 5 раз.

Мне 84 года, на днях 84 превратиться в 85.  Мне было физически трудно разбирать постель сразу после того как я ее только что перестеливала.  Но Леночка не трезвела, и не приходила в себя. Оказывается, справляться с наркотической зависимостью  в астральном мире 100 раз труднее, чем на земле… В бестелесной форме, утверждают спириты, гораздо легче впасть как в алкогольную так и наркотическиую зависимость. Об этом надо было бы писать и говорить громко вместо того, чтобы подсмеиваться над медиумами, потому что когда-то все мы там будем.  И я наслышана о трагических историях борьбы спиритов со зависимостями подобного рода.

Вы спросите, каким образом мне удалось рассердить Леночку до такой степени, что она не только одна решила испускать свой кал на мою постель, но заставляла делать это напуганных, потерявших себя девиц из русских домов терпимости.  Вячеслав был для них богом, а его подруга – царицей,  и они делали, что им приказывали делать.

Я разговорилась с ними, и спросила их, каким образом они попали в русские дома терпимости. Ответ был еще более шокирующим, чем наличие спиритических какашек в моем жилище. Они оказались проданными родителями в дома терпимости за деньги… Говорили ли они это с обидой в голосе?  Они говорили  о родителях и деньгах доверчиво, с тихой, русской болью и терпимостью ко всему… Им я все простила.

За Леночкой пришел некий «принц», бывший служивый из Афганистана, где его настигла пуля врага, и он увел ее.  Через несколько дней, он явился на минутку передать Леночкино раскаяние и просьбу простить ее. Я промолчала, так и не сказав тех слов, какие полагалось бы сказать, «я прощаю тебе!»… Уж очень мне досталось от многократной уборки постели.

Но чем я рассердила Лену? Я так и не узнала этого. Думаю ничем особенным, просто от героина разнесло головку.

Не успела я закончить мой, как я почувствовала, невеселый рассказ, как меня перебил самый пожилой родственник, назовем его Веней. Он  всматривался в меня испуганными, широко-раскрытыми глазами, и спросил:

— Это все тебе приснилось? Приснилось же?!

— Нет, Веня, не приснилось. Трудно было это отстирывать, неприятно было пол мыть, я тряпки половые потом выбрасывала…

Дамы молчали.  Кто-то налил себе коньяку и выпил.

И я  поняла, сколько бы человек не отнекивался от Бога, тонкого мира, и существлвания духов, где-то в глубине души, он знает, что это правда,  тонкий мир существует, и придет день, придется отчитываться.

Думаю, забвение пребывания в астральном мире между перерождениями,  дано неспроста.  Во-первых, не видение и не слышание спиритов исключает непосредственное общение, диалоги, пререкания, обмен мнениями между людьми во плоти и людьми, сбросившими тело. А это является мощнейшей защитой от духов, что очень важно, в особенности от злых, негативно-настроенных духов, способоных причинить немалое зло живым.

Но это уже иная тема, о которой стоит поговорить отдельно.

 

 

 

 

 

Я никогда не писала стихов…

У себа дома (Таллинн, Эстония), я была 30 лет кинокритиком,  но в США мне не хватало быстрого английского, чтобы адекватно выразить себя как кинокритик. А по-русски  писать об американских фильмах — кому это надо!  Но тоска по моей бывшей профессии осталась, и зудит во мне и по сей день! Как-то на днях, я посмотрела французский фильм SAMURAI с Ален Делоном и Натали Делон. Фильм мне понравился, в свое время я его как-то пропустила.

И вдруг, через несколько часов после просмотра, из меня пулей выскочил стишок, с которым я решилась  поделиться.  Самое  удивительное, мне сегодня 84.  Думаю, уже начался процесс разобщения тела и души, и душе дышытся свободнее.

Импровизация на тему
французского фильма Samurai

Ты мой врунишка
Ты мой воришка
Ты мой плутишка
Ты мой мальчишка
Ты моя любовь несносная

Тихо, тихо ты подкрался
В святая святых пробрался
Забылась я тобой объятая,
Проснулась  – оглянулась,
Твой след простыл  — одна в постели я!

—————————————————

Темно в постели, в дверь стучаться
Свечу зажгла, сижу и жду чего-то,
«Дверь откройте, вяжут, пойман, нет, сбежал, не пойман,
Пойман, пойман»
Другая просит, в дверь стучась,
«Молит он,  чтобы ты на выручку явилась,
Скажи, мол, ноченьку с тобою
Он Богам любви молился»,
Но свечка гаснет, темень гуще, гуще.
И я молчу…

 

 

 

 

 

Итак, год Огненного Петуха 2017 вступает в свои права 28 января. Вспомним, один из предыдущих лет Огненного Петуха — 1969.

 Совпадения

В январе 1969 состоялась инаугурация президента Ричарда Никсона, республиканца.
В январе 2017 ожидается инаугурация president elect  Дональда Трампа.
Комментарии излишни!

Войны 1969 года.

Серьезные столкновения на советско-китайской границе продолжались весь год Огненного Петуха.

Вьетнамский конфликт пытались погасить, но он разгорелся снова и продолжался до 1975 года.

Есть над чем подумать! Но и в 1969 не дошло до новой мировой, может и в этом году петушок похлопает крыльями, и не будет ни доморощенных, ни более обширных войн.

Криминал

Нашумевшая трагедия – чудовищное убийство Шэрон Тейт на 8 месяце беременности в  собственном доме. Подробности дела всем известны.  

В Багдаде убили 14 евреев, обвиняемых в шпионаже в пользу Израиля

Политика

В скорости, Никсона сметет новая волна демократического движения. Демонстрации левых.

Голда Мейер приходит к власти в Израиле.

Революция в Entertainment Business

Вудсток приканчивает милый старый джаз с бантиками, рюшками, платьицами, завитушками. Их место занимают исполнители импровизационной музыка порожденной наркотическим восторгом, «дикие ребята» вроде Джими Хендрикса, гитариста и гения, не дожившего и до 30 лет.

Как медиуму, до меня доходили рассказы спиритов, что с ним происходит на том свете. Расплачивается и за наркотики, и возможно, за непроизвольное прославление наркоты, забивающая чакры жуткими мыслеобразами, которые разрушают человека, во многих случаях доводя до преждевременной смерти.

Телевидение обретает цвет.

Природные катастрофы
Разрыв трубопровода неподалеку от Санта-Барбары (Калифорния, США) привел к разливу не менее 80 тысяч литров нефти, большая часть нефтепродуктов попала в океан и толстым слоем распределилась вдоль берега

Заключение

Такова общая картина года 1969, естественно, 2017 не будет копией 1969-года, уже пережитого, и забытого.  Но «петухам» всех стихий, и в особенности петуху огненной стихии, свойственно чередование взлетов и падений.  Следовательно, унывать не стоит, и у нас будут личные победы и взлеты в предстоящем году, и может нам удастся и сохранить, и развить кое-что из этих взлетов, поддерживаемых самой вселенной!    

Огненный Петух 1933 (пора Есенина и Маяковского) 1945 (конец Второй Мировой войны, но и год первых взрывов атомной бомбы в Хиросиме и Нагасаки), 1957, 1969, 1981, 1993, 2005, 2017, 2029 годах…

Огненный Петух является самым ярким и желанным знаком китайского зодиака, ведь песня Петуха предвещает рассвет, начало нового дня! Я бы дополнила, не без сюрпризов, как в 1945, когда тот же милый огненный петушок начал мирный новый день с того, что сбросил “a little boy,” то есть атомную бомбу на Хиросиму.

Главные черты предстоящего года — взлеты и падения, перемены, искания, обновления, разрушение старого, испытания «на прочность» — успеха и счастья всем и во всем!

 

 

Elvis Presley: Life in Eternity

Excerpt from the chapter “Life of Elvis Presley and Vladimir Vysotsky, the Mega Stars of the Era of Digital Technologies, in the Subtle World” in “Prisoners of Fame”, the fourth revision   

 Death did not stop a person’s growth, but, on the contrary, death intensifies the growth. 
Paramahansa Yogananda

       One year after publication of Prisoners of Fame passed imperceptibly, however, the spirits of Elvis Presley and Vladimir Vysotsky continued their stay, rather live in my aura, what caused me many problems. My requests to leave my aura were left unanswered. I turned to my guides who seemed to understand my problem, but they alone were in no position to help.  As a medium I was able to send SOS messages to American, Russian and Soviet hierarchies. Vysotsky and Presley were found another place for stay and ordered to leave my space immediately. The never argued with hierarchies, they obeyed, left quietly only to return in a day or two.

I was already suspecting that these were not the charms of a woman at the age of 80, in other words, me, what made them to stick with me. But if not this, then what was it?

Having advantage to hear spirits’ talking, I was advised not to respond to them if they would approach me. A Native American Tribe shaman assured – starve nine days, and they will be gone! I stood foodless 13 days, earned some kidney problems, but they were still there convincing me that there was a hidden reason what made them stay in my aura no matter what.

When Presley and Vysotsky’s celebrities’ masks wore out, both revealed their difficult, moody and remarkably ungrateful personalities. Both were not able to let go their splendid names, or see clearly, where they stood in the world of entertainment. They were still Presley and Vysotsky entitled to special treatment.

Elvis Presley: Difficult Awakening

 The spirit of Elvis Presley (1935-1977) started talking to me about 15 years ago, shearing thoughts that he believed to be valuable for posterity.  The last ten years I became aware of his permanent presence in my aura. Elvis’ story culminated in spirit messages from W.A. Mozart. Maestro recognized Elvis Presley’s exclusive musical talent. He found Elvis’ achievements as an entertainer quite lovely. However, all things considered ― the level of education and stubborn character ― these results were not sufficient for entering the world of the classic music. Most importantly, Mozart was convinced that heavy clogging of Elvis’ subtle bodies would cloud his scenic image. It was not all. Mozart reprimanded him for not acquiring deeper esoteric knowledge regarding his present condition, and for not seeking help.

Their last meeting in my presence ended with an offer of new terms: Mozart asked Elvis to dedicate following five years to cleansing his subtle bodies. Such work was possible in some astral monasteries and specialized healing centers for influential individuals. They arrived to the next world with subtle bodies and chakras filled with imprints of inhuman tiredness, irritation and traces of hosanna choruses and pressure from fans, groupies and followers. They needed help.

Mozart concluded their meeting with words, “If you commit to serious work for at least five years, I’ll take you back gladly.” Elvis answered, “I do anything to sing again. Singing is the only thing I can do.” But he did not take on the path of purification. Instead, he continued consumption of cocaine, produced by his Russian counterpart Vladimir Vysotsky at the most unexpected place: in my aura! It explained it all! It explained why they always returned! They returned to their honey pot in my aura. They chose me not because I was attractive, smart or good medium, they chose my aura because I was a nobody in comparison with their splendid names, and therefore there was a serious chance to go away with this!

I made this inspiring discovery four years ago. What will you do about the fact that belonged onto the list of “ten most disgusting things” on earth? I did the same what you would do – I became angry and puzzled! Why or how I invited this into my life? I have never been tempted to consume alcohol or narcotics ― not during the decades as a film critic in Estonia, not here, in the United States. Have I been alcoholic and drug addict in some previous lifetime? Thank  God, this narcotic “production” in my aura does not impact me directly: “the high” waves did not flash through my mind. Still it consumed, if not directly, a lot of my vital energy.

However, there was another problem. It could be called “the gray rope” problem. Jesse, Elvis’ twin brother who spent on earth one hour or two, but helped Elvis during his entire career on earth, attempted to describe “the gray rope” presence in Elvis’ spirit body in his first spirit message, dictated in year 2001. Now I think, Jesse showed up for a single purpose to learn, if I knew the truth how “the gray rope” type cosmic creatures interact with human beings, in other words, what they want from humans. I did not!  It did not take long to find out that I was a naïve beginner who has poked her nose into spirit communication without teachers or guidance and without the slightest idea about basic safety rules in this business.

Speaking about “the rope,” Jesse omitted the most important part of the story that “the rope” lived on human vital energy.  Now I understand that Jesse showed up to check if it was possible to “install” Elvis’ spirit into my aura, because he, Jesse, who was serving Elvis for decades, needed a break!  And Elvis was not used to be left alone.

I got my spirit communication knowledge watching James Van Praag’s and other mediums demonstrations of spirit communication performed in conventional style of excessively over sweetened shows ruled by words “I love you, I love you, and I love you!” My word to young mediums: “Never enter the uncharted territory of spirit world alone without proper training or guidance!”

Meeting spirits of Presley and Vysotsky I learned that mindless repetition of words I-love-you is fear based in same way as I- hate-you words of skeptics and new born Christians, many other  suspiciously righteous folks. Mediums are also afraid of many things about spirit communication, but good manners do not allow them to talk about it. Yes, there are thousand of serious reasons why it is so, spirit communication has been beaten by the Bible (Leviticus Laws), church, science and skeptics. In order to survive, early mediums had created rosy picture of  the entire thing, to avoid any kind of sharp edges. However, today it bites! 

If I only could understand or “translate” what Jesse had in mind telling that the day will come when people start forgetting Elvis, and the “gray rope” would start drying out. Then a team of spirits would be formed to get the “rope” out from Elvis’ astral body. What Jesse was trying to convey was the chance to have Elvis around “forever.”  Jesse concluded his speech with half-ironic-half-pathetic request not to betray Elvis. Probably, right now, sharing this, “I am betraying” Elvis! Did I know that Jesse hoped to get rid of Elvis for good? Or at least as long as I would stay on the earth!

By the coincidence, back in 2001, when I was approached by these spirits, I saw on TV a bizarre footage of a baby playing with a … cobra snake. My blood froze in my veins. Universe was talking to me, but I was not able to read its message that I was no better off then the helpless infant playing with a poisonous snake. But I am rushing ahead of myself.

Prompted by my curiosity I tried to learn more about “the gray rope” or the “gray trunk.” As told before, reading and talking to spirit helpers and visiting spirits, I finally learned that in four-dimensional astral and mental space celebrities had met their doppelgängers, “twins”, conventionally called “egregores.” They were cosmic monsters in the shape of reptile-like thick “clouds” made from condensed vibrations of their fans’ negative intentions and emotions. They were always starving for human vital energy. In order to have some harvest for themselves, egregores are always focused on expansion of the base of fans of the celebrity who had “birthed” them.

In following ten years, I was allowed to learn about egregores’ function as well.  In the search for food, egregores distribute information that humanity and animal kingdom need for survival. Egregores come to life around famous writers, musicians, painters, politicians, leaders of corporations, and this list of builders of egregores doesn’t end here. These cosmic creatures have quasi mind, but no conscience, or God’s sparkle. They were half-alive robots or machines. According to testimonials of the spirits of the former celebrities, the very first thing what they offer to a “celebrity in heaven” is the protection.

Perhaps, Elvis’ egregore offered him the same. Probably, it was why vulnerable Presley allowed that parasite to enter his astral body. Over the time, the result became devastating. The parasite grew through his “astral spinal cord” running all the way down to the floor and, moving upward, reaching his brain.

Over the years, via scarceness of food, this parasite started to eat Elvis’ astral brain and any available source of human vital energy. And of course, the nearest food source turned to be me, the medium!

In despair, I “called” to legendary Gladys for help to talk to Elvis. At that time, American and Russian surgeons proposed the option of surgical interference for separation Elvis from his always hungry “friend.” However, Elvis refused the separation with hard-to-explain stubbornness and tenacity. In other words, Elvis’ mind was completely subdued by his parasite’s will.

Gladys did not show up, but I continued “bothering” her asking to help to convince Elvis to have the surgery in order to save his brain. Finally, one day, turning into a busy shopping center at the corner of 3^rd street and Fairfax Boulevard, I saw her in front of CVC Pharmacy. She was agitated and yelled obscenities. During the short breaks between the fits of anger and pain, she managed to pipe that Elvis is no more her son, and she would like to be left alone.

When I returned home, Elvis said that his entire family had “disowned” him, including his mother and his daughter. No doubt, it all happened because of lack of correct knowledge about afterlife. Indigenous people knew more about afterlife than we do with our superb computers and smart phones and advanced war machines.

I remember when Elvis Presley’s spirit showed up on my doorstep, I found on the Internet the appropriate book to read Elvis Speaks from the Beyond and Other Celebrity Ghosts Stories by Hans Holzer hoping to learn more about the spirit communication. The author worked with a lovely medium Dorothy Sherry, a go-between, when Holzer talked to the former king in the spirit. Recording on June 19, 1999 my first dialog with Elvis “The Church in My Name Has to Be Stopped and Finished” I asked the king a question: “I know that you worked with a good medium. I believe her name was Dorothy Sherry. I learned about her in the book Elvis Speaks from the Beyond by Hans Holzer. How is she?”

EP: — She is fine, and she is with me already. I would like to continue, if it works out here, on a different level of talking about things that happened to me during my difficult stay on earth.

Dorothy Sherry was not fine, because she was dead already, as I learned later. To me, maybe because of my English of a newcomer, the sentence “she is with me already” sounded as if they were still working together: he was giving her spirit messages, and she was writing them down in the same manner as I did. I had to wait 15 years before I got the real and shocking answer to my question.

I remembered that there were weird moments in the meticulously recorded report about the Holzer’s conversation with Elvis’ spirit in the book “Elvis Speaks from Beyond.”

“Hans Holzer: Please let go of the instrument (the medium – TP) for a second, so that we can resume communication.

D.S.: He says he doesn’t understand.

H.H.: Because there has been resistance and the energy being drawn, and you are upset.

D.S.: He’s not moving, he says he’s here to protect me…  And that he’s not going to move.” (p. 28-29)

The words about “protection” stroke me 15 years ago as very strange ones. Now they sound to me as the egregore’s typical promise “to protect” Dorothy, but against whom? I tried to find more information about Dorothy’s life. However, there was nothing out there beyond the information spilled here and there in the book Elvis Speaks from the Beyond. The thought that she was a victim of Elvis’ “friend” did not go away. Was she sucked to death by Elvis’s powerful but dysfunctional egregore? Instead of roaming around and making people demand more of Elvis Presley’s performance (a celebs’ egregore’s single practical function), it sabotaged its nature by sitting in Elvis’ body and poisoning his mind.

I “called” up to Hans Holzer’s spirit for his say about Dorothy Sherry. In about 20 minutes I heard a polite, soft spirit voice asking, “Lady Tatyana, can you hear me?” He continued.

“My name is Hans Holzer. I cannot believe that you got so far. If you need my modest opinion, I’ll speak. Dorothy is a complete victim of Elvis’ selfish nature. His rude and egoistic intrusion into her life ruined her marriage and left Dorothy without any means to live on. And Elvis, of course, dropped her immediately. Dorothy suffered death from a chronic disease and left this world penniless about 5 or 6 years after the divorce. She died at age 35. Up to her death she did not understand that it was Elvis’ “friend,” the terrible parasite, who sucked her to death. It was one of these terrible invisible crimes that occur on daily bases everywhere. You, Tanika, need mighty protection, and you have one, but it is not enough, not even close. Such protections exist, and your guide has to understand it. You will not survive or finish the work what is awaited from you. Let me speak with Elvis and Mozart, who are also here. Being not invited they showed up in my apartment.

Mozart: ―Vier und zwanziger. … Tatyana, I was angry with you, because of the lies that you spread about me.

T: ―What lies?

Mozart: ―They tell me that you changed every word what I told you.

T: ―Here is the printed text of our conversations in the book. You decide did I lie or not!

The text was examined and read.

Mozart: ―Not a single word has been changed. Sorry.

T: ―Which was lying to you?

Mozart: ―You know who, he is…

T: ―He is in a terrible condition. He did not listen to anyone but his egregore, the parasite. Period.

HH: ―It started back then. We were in the know about this problem. However…

T: ―Yes, they need their stubborn characters for fulfilling their missions on earth. However, hard work builds enormous attachments to their splendid names, cocaine, women ― the causes of suffering in the afterlife.

HH: ―Understanding of the situation will not help you. If you do not get high-level protection, you will not survive.

How did this serpent-like parasite crawl into a celebrity body? I did a little survive on my own asking it from Cary Grant, William Powell, Bette Davis, and everybody in the spirit world whom I got to talk. The answer was simple: the best protection against the egregore is person’s independence. You have to have strength to renounce their “protection” from the start.

I think the disproportion of the size of fame of the electronic era celebs and low rank of vibrational frequencies of their achievements contributed to the negativity of their afterlife. John Lennon’s adage of ‘being more popular than Jesus Christ’ says it all! Compare the destinies of Johan Sebastian Bach and Elvis Presley. The genius served as a modest organist in the local church, and the other…

The idea why Elvis Presley needed mediums like Dorothy Sherry or I started to dawn on me.  He needed us as stocks of vital energy for feeding his “friend,” his egregore, the parasite!

One night I became so feeble that I doubted to see the sunrise. It was Paramahansa Yogananda’s teacher Giri Yukteswar who showed up to help. He got Elvis egregore’s 54 suckers off from my back. He told that Elvis Presley’s “friend” was opening the sets of suckers like a lady opens a China fan. The suckers are used to attach themselves to the human aura. Probably, this was how the Dorothy Sherry was murdered. Of course, for Elvis it was safe to use us because we were completely unknown and poorly protected.

When I confronted Elvis’ spirit, he needed no time for an answer. “Nobody would listen to you!” There was left nothing to add to this easy-sounding confirmation of my worst assumptions.

Once I helped a “travelling angel,” a former remote viewer Charles, who was looking for a go-between for talking to his temporary host, a lovely lady, about her problems that she was not aware of. The appointment was set, and the meeting took place. It enabled to tell Charles about my need to have stronger protection.

Charles appealed to the highest rank of medical luminaries. They took Elvis in for examination but renounced the possibility of surgical interference. It was too late! The “metastases” of the egregore had spread too far into his brain. The operation could damage the astral brain beyond repair. And Mr. Presley was let go! The next volunteers who promised help were the Russian medical luminaries in the spirit world. Jesse accompanied Elvis to their sphere of influence. However, the brothers returned soon with the same verdict: in the present case the surgery was not a safe option! The firm opinion that nothing could be done was formed!

Fighting for my life, I turned to the highest with a desperate plea to help not me, but Elvis! The support was offered by the spirit of the former Tibetan lama, who lived in the 15^th century Lhasa. Purportedly, he received ordination ceremony at Gander Monastery, where he rose through the ranks to the status of lama. He said he would separate Elvis from his egregore.

Yurik, a participating soul, described the surgery as follows. “At first it did not go well, and it looked that we had to give up. “The parasite dodged its tail; it was lashing, the tranquillizers were ineffective. We were afraid what would happen next. threatened. But the lama injected him something Tibetan. And it worked. The monster collapsed, and we started to cut it fearing that it would awake and destroy us at once. Lama was looking for a “life nerve” in him – it also had nerves – and he found one. It was cut, and monster was dead instantaneously. It took the effort of the entire group of people to pull the body out and carry it to the truck outside. The scientists treated lama as a hero. Then we called up volunteers to clean up the mess.”

Still not understanding that I was fooled, I asked how Elvis took it.

Yurik said that Elvis jumped from joy and couldn’t stop.

I wanted so badly to be saved that I did not question the probability of joyous jumping directly after surgery…

The next morning Elvis was back in my kitchen for coffee, as if the day before nothing special had happened. He confessed that the surgery was a staging, a fun game performed under Vladimir Vysotsky’s tutelage.

I stopped asking God to help Elvis. I admitted that my prayer was not sincere. It was motivated by my desperate wish to get rid of him. However, the “joke” raised more questions, like where were Elvis’ guides when this parasite crawled into Elvis’ body? What were they thinking? Do we have guides, or we take for guides the accidental spirits who land in our auras for rest, food and fun? The doors for new doubts and questions were wide open, and this was only the beginning of the revision of my views on spirit communication.

The day arrived when Elvis was forced to choose his reincarnation options. He was supposed to go to Italy. However, Italy did not take him because of the problems with his egregore. Then there was an opportunity to go to Africa. When Africa refused to take him in for the same reason, it had, finally, the impact on Elvis. For the first time, hew saw clearly what his “friend” had done to him. After stormy reaction to these refusals, Elvis calmed down. According to Jesse’s prediction, there was only one option left: to wait until people start forgetting Elvis and his “friend” will die natural death as William Powell’s egregore did.

I realized that I had never asked Elvis if it was painful to carry the proof of his fame, his “friend,” on his back across the universe? But Holzer did, and told me the following story.

“Elvis do not like to talk about his “friend”, but once he divulged that time to time his “friend” made him  suffer pain. I did not know how to write about it. However, your guesswork turned out to be true. When the pain became unbearable, Elvis had to feed his “friend!”  You do the same when your cat meows demanding food ― you open a can, in other words, you feed your cat to stop it’s meowing! Egregore used pain as a tool to control Elvis: when egregore became hungry, he let Elvis experience pain. When it gets its feed, it relieved the pain.

Egregore forged friendship promising protection and asking for friendship. The monster exploited Elvis’ softheartedness, his yearning for a friend. And egregore played the “I need you” card! How many naïve folks have been lured into the trap of various dependencies with this “I need you, I need your friendship” song! Before this softhearted “friend” knew, he or she was turned into an unpaid companion of a smarter and stronger person. Any servant has to be paid, but never a companion, if he or she is a “friend”!

T: ―When Elvis’s egregore got into Elvis’ astral body?

HH: ―Soon after Elvis’ transition ― during the most difficult moments of adjustment.

 

T: ―The behavior of this egregore seems to repeat the pattern of female aggressive hysteria that was provoked by Elvis Presley’s performance and accumulated during his concerts. Numerous documentary footage, photos and witnesses’ accounts give persuasive pictures of this mass hysteria. Elvis had to be protected by a team of bodyguards who tried to keep waves of fans at bay. And after the famous performer’s death, the egregore seemed to fulfill the crowd’s dominating wish ― to get to his soul! What hints to the nature of the material the egregore’s are built from: the vibrational frequencies of the female fans’ emotions and the egregores are probably closely the same!  According to your estimation, when Elvis’ egregore will lose its power?

HH: ― I think, in 50-75 years from now!

T: ― And I ask again, where were Elvis’ guides, when he decided to establish a friendly relationship with his egregore? Where was Jesse?

There was silence. But after a while I heard Elvis’ voice:

EP: ― Jesse was there with me, he warned me, offered help, but I refused, and he could do nothing without my consent. Leave him out of this; he is not responsible for what did happen.

In some days after my chance to converse with Holzer, while switching on the computer, I noticed that the word “Gyrations” was ticking in my mind. Then Elvis Presley’s words “I was able to sell sex from the stage, and I did!” popped up. This sentence stemmed from an old spirit message. I sensed that these words would connect the dots. Elvis was on the top of his career. The moves of particular parts of his body turned on crowd’s forbidden thrill and out of love toward him, they were ready to tear him to pieces! And his egregore materialized the vibrations of sexually arisen crowd. Now the splendid performer has to wait until people will forget him. We know that it will not happen soon. One is sure: he will never sell sex from the stage again. If you scroll down to the previous post about Visotsky, a Russian mega-mega-mega-star’s life in eternity, there would be a corresponding most interesting hint about Elvis’ future incarnations.

My apology to James van Praagh: yes, he is the pioneer, he started televised spirit communication, he broke a new ground, his path was difficult, his incredible talent has been an object of bitter envy, he had tons of enemies, he survived, but today he is so strong and successful enough for surviving words that have to be said – in the name of research, study and expansion of spirit communication! The sugary picture of afterlife is misleading and wrong, we still know so little about eternity. Do we have to know more? This is not for me to tell… If the research is needed, then the sugary picture of afterlife is one of the greatest obstacles on the way of to the truth.

 

Vladimir Vysotsky: Life in Eternity

 A quick reminder! Vysotsky became a mega celebrity being completely banned as a performer of his author’s songs. (Vysotsky’s closest American counterpart would be Bob Dylan. However, describing deficiencies of the Soviet life, Vysotsky managed to speak about them with light humor, irony and laughter.) However, he was allowed to embody Hamlet on the stage of the Moscow legendary Taganka Drama Theater. This theater had earned many outstanding international awards. Actors joked: “Every time when the Communist Party needed to refresh the interest toward Russia, they sent us to international theatrical festivals to collect awards.” Nevertheless, at home Vysotsky did not have a single legal concert during his 42 years on earth, not a single concert poster, not a single article about him in a newspaper or magazine, not a single printed poem or book written by him or about him! But his husky voice was heard over that giant country sprawling from the Baltic Sea to the Pacific Ocean. The tickets to his illegal concerts in working class clubs, mostly at night time, were sold out, and halls were filled with hysterically excited crowds from wall to wall and beyond…

Vysotsky allowed the happy attendees to record his performance. As it has been said already: the countless times recorded tapes spread all over the country with the speed of the brush fire… The availability of sound recording devices was an entirely new thing in the Soviet Union, and the communist party and KGB lost the control over the spontaneous spread of Vysotsky’s uncensored songs on the magnetic tapes. These amateurish recordings were not sold but changed hands as gifts.

33 years after death, in 2013, Moscow modern journalist Fyodor Razzakov and Mikhail Kryzhanovsky, former KGB and CIA spy, published their book   “Владимир Высоцкий — суперагент КГБ” (Vladimir Vysotsky ― KGB Super Spy), Moscow, Algorithm, 2013. The publication of this work made the Russian Internet to explode. The pro and contra discussion revealed additional information regarding still not definite circumstances of Vladimir Vysotsky’s death. It was said that they (KGB) “zachistili yego” ― “cleaned him up,” meaning, murdered Vysotsky “to prevent the leakage of vital government secrets” in connection with his deepening cocaine dependency. (Look up the subchapter “Rumors about Victor” in this book).

Hard to believe, the post-communist era Russian Internet publishes rumors that the people’s beloved bard, the national hero, was officially “cleaned up” on the top of his fame, and… nothing happened! The case was not reopened.

Now you probably think that in the afterlife, such person would be rest in paradise. However, it did not happen! Not even close! And this is why I am writing about his life in the astral world. Fame becomes a “prison” for celebrities everywhere, in a capitalist world and the communist world, and in the afterlife alike!

According to Tibetan wisdom, fame has it place in human life if it leads to quickening of enlightenment and diminishes human suffering. In other words, the fame is not the culprit, but the attitude may become a famous prison’s warden, to put it mildly.

The Russian Al Capone

VV: ― I am Vladimir Vysotsky. However, the problem is that Vladimir Vysotsky and I are two different entities. I cannot neither entirely merge nor part ways with my name. And I ask myself, is he my shadow or I am the shadow lagging behind my splendid name. However, when I am drunk, or stoned we join for a short time, and I create ugliness that makes my hair stand on end. Sobering up, I cannot believe that this was me who had been so destructive. However, I cannot take back anything, not a shred of what was accomplished getting high on drugs. My terrible name is wooing me always, as if protecting me from becoming an average Joe, a toy in hands of some political system chosen for me in my next round of reincarnation what may happen any day soon.

What can be more important than not getting lost in the crowd of human leftovers? They want me to have a low incarnation for washing off my Russian bezpredel – limitlessness in consumption of vodka, narcotics, and having sex with prostitutes of all nationals, all skin colors. They have died suffering OD, or from their pimps’ bullets for hiding earnings.

However, my heaviest sin is the debasement of the new souls, mostly Russians. Down there they saw me as a god. But here I punished them, having no idea what for. I forced them to work for me by churning out cocaine and tasting it. It built fast their cocaine dependency. I wanted them to be complaisant, out of the will, trustful without questioning, wax-like soft and obedient. When I got them so far, I named them “my people”!

None of them put up any resistance, not even my friend, the Taganka Theatre great, truly multitalented actor Valera Zolotukhin, almost as famous as I was. None of them said, “I’ll kill you!” or “I’ll not do it!” None of them complained, and again, as at the beginning, when after my death I arrived at the other side I was ready to puke and commit suicide. At that time, the death wish was evoked by the terrible look of my egregore, but now it was aroused by realization of my failure. Back home, writing and performing for them about their misery, I strained my throat for nothing, my so-called husky voice did not awake anyone; “zilch” was the name of all my achievements. The load of Russian slavish obedience, which I was supposed to move, remained immovable. Nothing happened; nothing changed. Russia continued supply the Other Side with souls disfigured by hopelessness and marked by poverty and inertia. They made up crowds of faceless, angry, unhappy people acting only if told whom to hang, where to dig, and do the dirty work from what so many other nations have been exempted.

T: ― Why you, Vladimir Vysotsky, feel aversion toward this crowd instead of love and compassion? … Perhaps you see yourself as part of these people? Who asked you to change Russia? Are you sure that they saw you as a god? Maybe it was you who, like Marlon Brando hero in “The Apocalypses,” took the notice of morphing from a human being into a god? Have you ever tried to face the fact that your aggressive despotism comes from your prolonged usage of cocaine. They say with Lennon happened the same. You hate “your people” who idealized you, because, in a way, you are one of them.

After some silence, Vysotsky continued.

VV: ― I lost hope and said, “God left us because we are a hopeless lot! Let bow down to the devil and strike a deal!” So I found him and offered my cooperation. He listened patiently and said “Prove it to me!” And I did! I send my people to find excrements, left behind by cocaine users on earth. I made them select rich portions of it and bring home, on the territory of your third chakra dump. We saw it as an abandoned wasteland where we washed the incoming raw material, our “ore,” like they washed gold at gold mines. A friend of mine was a big boss at the Siberian goldmines, and he showed me how they did it. So, here I was able to instruct “my people” properly. The next step entailed drying out the fresh product in our self-build “stoves.” The last step, the packing, was easy. Then I had to figure out what to do with the waste and how to distribute our novelty, turning it into currency to help boys and me in the land of strangers.

The devil said, “Think!” And I gave it a thought. Soon my Russian experience whispered me word “Bribery!” Devil laughed his head off and said that my record permits him to pick me up any instant and to lock me up in hell for a very long time. However, he added that something invisible was still keeping me in the company of so-called “good people.” Devil decided to find out what it was to avoid confrontations with Divine Bureaucracy. Besides, where would I disappear? He could collect me anytime he wished.

Astral world doesn’t know any morning or evening hours. However, the waves of earth rhythms break against our consciousness like eagle’s wings beat the prison’s walls. At morning time, we want coffee, and at night time we want cocaine. And happy Devil observed our fast fall despite having everything that we, the idiots, dreamed about in the Soviet Union ― vodka, cognac, cigarettes, women, women, and women. We have here agreements, fist fights, arguments, negotiations, rejections, hatred, rituals, friendship, love, hope.

The physical laws of the astral world differ from earth’s laws, but we remain the same. Dying is a long process, and we download here all our mental and moral dirt, so we have something important to do here, learning from what we have been made of. We grow so slowly…. And if someone will tell you something else, he or she does not know the first thing about life in the subtle world…

In order to dictate you this, I stole your energy. Three days in a row I watched how you were meditating and pulling light through your clean channels into your system. I threw a lid over your “gate” and scooped away every drop of light to dilute the gray fog in my sick astral brain.

I am aware that I try to stabilize myself at the dangerous edge. One more swing and I will find myself in the hell. In other words, they will lower me beneath the earth frequencies. The benefactors like I need eons to crawl out from hell.

Down there, on earth, singing “Koni priveredliviye”—“My Restless Horses” (one of most loved Vysotsky’s song) and begging heaven to let me stay at the edge a bit longer, I was so young! At that time, I had no idea what it meant to stay at the edge of the abyss! I reached this edge only here, in the astral world. I found myself at the edge of terrifying abyss ― down there with the gate not to paradise, but hell. Now I think how to get back where I would be if not burdening my conscience with that hellish cocaine machine!

T: Then destroy it? What does hold you back?

Vysotsky ignored my question; then continued, as if talking to himself.

VV: ―They charged me with breaking the law. They will pick me up for punishing boys for every sign of disobedience. They say that my mistake was breaking the law of freedom of choice and therefore broke the holy cow of the astral order – the law of non-violence! The law of free will and no-violence cannot be challenged here. They called me an Eastern satrap, the tyrant, and they applied tyrannical measures to tame me!

VV: ― It all went wrong, Tanika, and our bilingual book Channeling Vysotsky went wrong as well. I was not ready for that work, and you were not ready as well. Maybe we still are not ready for such kind of work. Maybe there was no real need for that book at a time, or the right person was not found who could invest in marketing…

When I look at the path ahead of me, I see a mountain locking the pass in afar. When I speed up, the mountain starts to recede, as if mocking me; I attempt to catch up with it, but it still retreats, and the distance between me and that mountain, signifying the success, remains the same always… After what I’ve done, will I be allowed to rise again?

T: Dear reader, the next time when you would pass a beggar, a homeless, a man with a sign, do not get irritated.  Yes, you are rushing to an important meeting! You know that you have to donate him a dollar, but have no time to stop and find in your messy pockets that piece of the green paper. And if you, finally, do, his three-word thank “God bless you!” would shower you with unbearable feeling of guilt. Find a minute, or half! Find that dollar, and notice that suddenly you became lighter and calmer!  And nobody can say with certainty who needed that exchange more, the beggar on the street or you – to stop for an instant in your automatic rush! Probably, the man with a sign was an average beggar, but still, there was a chance that you had received blessing from a former leader, a pharaoh or celebrity… The next time you applaud to a celebrity does not skimp on sending him a wave of your most sincere “thank you” for his or her outstanding performance. Give to a celebrity, do not take the last drop of energy from him pressuring for his attention.

Vysotsky’s voice fell silent long time ago. My third eye broke through the veil observing something extraordinaire unfolding in the otherworldly large open hall. The French door led into a lavish flower garden with old branching trees. Strangely moving shadows accentuated a little table set with the elegant champagne flutes.

 They were all there, Marlene Dietrich, Myrna Loy, Bette Davis, Elvis Presley, Cary Grant dressed in evening gowns and suits. There was every conversationalist from this book, and people whom I was not able to identify. They wore festive attires. Humphrey Bogart in flawless black attire seemed to be the host. He lifted his glass with sparkling light wine and spoke.

 HB: ―Volodya, I know you are not a saint, but a crazy Russian, an alcoholic, as we all tend to be here. However, the laughter of yours that you brought here with your Russian Soviet era anecdotes was so invigorating that it saved many souls from deepest depression. Looking at you, I learned that the laughter of Russian souls sucked into the American sphere of influence for one reason or the other, mostly to develop their inborn talents in their next incarnations in Western Hemisphere came from the land of big suffering. But your laughter was so loud and pure that it echoed across the universe teaching the hopeless to trust the power of our mind capable of discover good and funny in everything, everywhere, and in any given situation.

Volodya, we part for a very short time. Thank you for your laughter, we will meet soon again. Farewell Volodya, and hello, Volodya! When you are done, I know, heaven will make you come back to America for your outstanding entrepreneurial abilities, unique in this tender astral world… You will find what to do down there, in the land of free market economy…

They all greeted and hugged Vysotsky. He was a hero in their eyes, and they wished him easy reincarnation.

The picture of farewell festivity was floating away and out of my sight melting into the astral fog. Only faint clinking of glasses continued to echo in my ears.

I was still drinking my coffee when I heard a smothered whisper:

“Hi, Mister Presley, on your request they searched for your highest ranking future incarnation. They asked me to guide you into the council room!”

Elvis asked, “Will it occur in my upcoming incarnation?”

“Sorry, no! It will happen in the 11^th incarnation from where you are today. You talent will be not diluted; it will not disappear, but you have so much to cleanse, learn and grow. We have to go!”

Another voice intercepted: “He will be born in Vienna, he will be the Shalyapin-type celebrity, deeply rooted in his people’s culture, with immense power of expression. This was why they met, Shalyapin and Elvis with the help of your friend Vysotsky, as you described it in your book.”

Watching the farewell ritual, I did not notice how Hans Holzer appeared in my kitchen.

HH: ― Tatyana I do not know what to say. If I did not see with my own eyes everything what did happen here, the farewell for Vysotsky, organized by Humphrey Bogart, the crowd of celebs, I wouldn’t believe a single word of yours. But I saw it, and I am dumb… Let me find out, if this is true that they found Elvis on the top again in one of his future incarnations. I will be back in a minute…

However, he was stopped by the concluding part of the farewell party.

HH: ― Can you see the robots? They are there to arrest Vysotsky? … Once this Russian was a king… Was he the Vienna Maximillian? Oh my God, in every cycle of rebirths, he has been the king at least once! This was why he was so sure being above me that I could not understand…

Holzer said goodbye hurriedly and disappeared, as if trying to catch up with robots who were accompanying Vysotsky away from the crowd of Hollywood celebrities.

Vladimir Vysotsky’s dream came true.  He conquered his peers at West. But not through his artistic abilities, rather through laughter born by the Russian despair and not so Russian entrepreneurial talent.

Why Did You Gather That Soiree?

The next morning I overheard voices from afar. “True to the end for the better or worse!” It reminded an oath of allegiance. Stupid I, of course, the king was back, and his Neverland knights were greeting a Roman emperor! In other words, Vysotsky returned and was already brainwashing his “people.” Someone advised, “Give him coffee, and he will go back to the reincarnation can!”

Suppressing my irritation, I advised inviting over the soiree host to share a cup of coffee with Vysotsky?

Humphrey Bogart showed up immediately. The nuances of various expressions slipped across his face. Finally, he burst into laughter.

HB: ― “Vladimir, my brother, gangsta Al Capone, I will not call for another farewell reception for you, but I honestly admire you. Tell me how you got out from the reincarnation camera? I know, you were locked up in there, and robots were guarding you?

“Easy!”― was a fast answer, and Vysotsky started to explain the details of his escape.

Coffee, a glass of kefir, and hot oatmeal were on the table. Humphrey Bogart liked the kefir most. He said, “I used to have it… You know, you have to drive at work, but your head is splitting… you down some kefir, and you are OK again.”

Vysotsky’s suspicious voice interrupted Bogart’s panegyric to kefir: “For what  did you gather that soiree?”

Bogart did not answer; a sort of withdrawal started to emerge in his eyes and he gave up Vysotsky to robots on the spot, adding: “Before America can use your services, you have a lot to learn, Al Capone!”

The connection between astral Hollywood and Russians, who produced cocaine, was severed. Was this bridge broken for good?

Probably, Vysotsky overstayed his welcome in eyes of everyone involved ― hierarchies, robots, friends and foes. But he continued to be the “king of his kingdom” having no intention to abdicate, change hats – to take off crown for some snapback cap of a commoner. He continued ask for extra attention in order be perceived “as the most important person in the building”, and his cocaine pranks (a sure way to get attention!) became more and more theatrical and dangerous.

One night a surge of sudden pain woke me up – as if something hard had fallen on my head. The strange smell made me open a window and switch on the fan. Crawling back in bed, did I lose consciousness? It was like falling into a dark well. Another wave of pain brought me back. I got up and took a hot shower.  The headache did not subside.

One of my spirit friends informed me that Bogart’s robots took Vysotsky back to the reincarnation “can”, but he managed to escape again. Of course, there were zero chances to slip out of the hermetically closed doors.  Nevertheless, Vysotsky has returned from any detention facility and “re-education” camp suspiciously soon, in a day or two after being apprehended for extra loud troubles. And this had lasted already years.  How did he escape?

A thought of suspicion took roots in my mind. He had to have a devoted friend or a capable “executive” in the astral world. When “one hand” locked him up, the other hand ― the hand of a dark guardian angel made the door sprang wide open for Vysotsky to walk out with dignity and sneering smile on his lips. Probably, Vysotsky’s escapist adventures were based on bribery. The question was who played the role of the mysterious guardian in Vysotsky’s endless theatrical staging?

Probably, his executrix had free access to cocaine and a large net of “helpers” who delivered the bribe invisibly and no questions asked.

Yes, in Vysotsky’s surrounding, there was an eerie Asian character called behind the back Chinaman. He pretended to be an old soul not attached to any name or number or particular identifying symbol. Despite this high-fly defiance he used to “flip on” names of archangels, lamas, or some famous people depending on his needs or goals. We met him as a Tibetan lama. It was him who performed a fake surgery on Elvis. …This soul had his set of problems, including cocaine dependency, anger, envy, and disagreements with God. In other words, Vysotsky and Chinaman who called himself Archangel Gabriel, my guide Thomas, Russian icon painter Andrei Rublev respectively, found each other. Vysotsky supplied him with cocaine, and, in return, he gifted Vysotsky with freedom. The win-win situation in the astral world!

After Vysotsky’s next escape from a detention facility, the guarding robots declared a real “wolf hunt” on him. He barricaded himself in my aura mobilizing “his people” to protect him. Was he asking for sacrifices when shielding himself with the crowd of “his people”? In Vysotsky’s classic song “The Wolf Hunt,” the unruly wolves were surrounded by hunters with loaded rifles. Here, apparently, robots will not shoot or kill the insurgents, but, eventually, they would capture the entire gang making “people” share the leader’s destiny. Before I knew it, I heard myself shouting in Russian language, “Surrender, do not fight against robots for your fake icon, you do not have to share his fate, there are no guilt on you! There is no need to rush into hell out of false comradery; agree to reincarnate back home as soon as possible and think, think, think what had happened to you! Never create idols and never bow to another human being!”

To whom was I shouting this, to them or to myself?

Things started to unravel fast. Vysotsky was apprehended again. About half of Vysotsky’s “people” accepted reincarnation back to Russia.

As many times before, Vysotsky was back the same day angrier than ever. Probably the fiesta began again.  In cocaine euphoria, Vysotsky forced his loyalists to beat and damage my seventh chakra. Later, the consulting spirit doctors announced their diagnoses: “As a result of contusions inflicted to the medium’s 7^th chakra, the odds are that she will be born with a twisted face in her next incarnation. The healing has to start on earth before her death and transition to the subtle world.”

Vysotsky had achieved resemblance with historic Al Capone who had a sad habit to bruise his fellow gangsters’ faces personally during his fits of violence.

I was left to cope with the prospect to be born as a crippled person in my next incarnation. At morning hour, Vysotsky showed up apologizing in a tone as if he had spilled a glass of water on the kitchen floor. I exploded, and… cursed him.  Terrible words jumped out of my mouth putting environment on fire for quite a time, until I was utterly exhausted. I cannot take back the word, and I do not want to. When I chilled out, I saw my Himalayan guide in front of me.  The conversation between him and me is nobody’s business. However, to me it proved that our guides exist after all!

Another conclusion that this story can lead to is an interesting hint regarding invisible connection between present lifetime and the next one. During our stay on earth, we already create the design or image of our future body 24/7 – by our thoughts, intentions, dreams, actions and reactions.

Finally, the day had arrived when the story of Elvis Presley’s and Vladimir Vysotsky’s stay in my aura ended peacefully and to the satisfaction of all parties involved.

During morning meditation, a vision was unrolling in my inner space. It did not stand out by originality; it contained the same mythological images that fill so many meditative visions. I saw the ocean, blue sky, golden sunshine, a peaceful beachfront, and a tall cliff nearby. On its wide shoulders, it was carrying a city dump with its waterfront cutting down into beach sand. On the upper edge of that damp, facing the sea, sat a red box made from painted timber boards. I knew that in that box was the hellish cocaine “production machine.” My intuition made me send light to it. The time stood still. A force seemed to focus golden rays on that box. In about one hour the vertical cracks began to appear in the cut of dump. The cracks widened slowly letting light shine through; then the slices of dump started to crumble. The box’s red planks got loose, and as if propelled into the air, they arced in all directions before sliding down onto beige stripe of sandy beach.

Then the details of rusty metal, dirt and clouds of white powder followed landing on then beach next to red boards. The ocean waves were washing  its booty until a stronger wave took it to the sea floor.

I knew, I had done my part, and Vysotsky and Presley new adventures in the afterlife  would be no more my concern. Finally, our paths would part.

 

10 Things You May Want to Know about Spirit Communication

1. Do spirits lie? – They do, and more often than we think. There are thousands of reasons why — including wish to protect you from information that you are not ready to hear. However, if you are a honest and compassionate person, you will attract honest spirits as well.
2. Why they say that they send us love so often during spirit communication. Some find it boring? – During communication spirits use some of our vital energy, because they cannot talk the other way, but their answers to our questions come back on waves of significantly higher vibrations that heal and refine us. Older mediums say that they cringe remembering how rude and none considered they were in their youth. They credit spirit communication for refinement of their characters. So do I. Spirit communication helped me with letting go some painful attachments, and serious delusions, and the process has not stopped yet. However, not all spirits are so clean. Never lose common sense during spirit communication. Always ask from the Highest for protection before you start communicating. Never forget to close your chakras when you are done with communication.
3. Bette Davis said that she was no different from other stars. “I had my share of nightmares – heavily overloaded mental body.” What she meant by that? – Barbara Ann Brennan calls this over load the coat of the negative thought forms. The Tibetan Buddhists call this overload the accumulation of negative imprints on human mind. There are various ways how to deal with this problem. This is a special theme and needs special handling. Later I will share everything what I have learned about it.
4. Are spirit communication a dangerous affair? Yes, it has quite real dangers. Both medium and the sitters need protection. Some like to smudge the space before starting the séance of spirit communication. However, old-fashioned séances were started with special protective prayers for building direct contact with the highest realms available. I consider this to be the best protection against unwanted intrusions.
5. How do I know I am told the truth or lied to? This questions leads into the realm of delusions. How do you know if a person in flesh-and-blood is lying to you? The less delusions you have, the sharper is your intuition and the better is your judgment. Do not be afraid to disagree with spirits’ advices. Never forget, spirits shares with you their opinions, oftentimes rooted into their experiences. You live in different time, and are definitely entitled to your own opinion regarding everything.
6. Can the sitter ask the medium to call up a particular spirit? – Yes, sitter can do it, but there is no guarantee that the particular spirit whom the sitter has in mind, wants or cares talking to you. Emmanuel Swedenborg expounded early on that every human being is surrounded by a certain group of spirits united by similar energy patterns. According to my spirit communication experience, some spirits have no problems with communication, but some need quite long time to “tune in” in order be heard by a medium. One of such spirits was Russian movie director Andrei Tarkovsky, known internationally for his feature film “Andrei Rublev”. He tried to talk, but instead, I heard lines of a poem read out loud by his father, the poet Arseni Tarkovsky who was not present. In some 10 minutes the communication séance with Andrei Tarkovsky was resumed and it went on without further surprises.
7. Some say, we attract spirits. How do we do it? We are not separated from the Spirit World with China Wall; spirits exist among us and next to us on a different, significantly higher vibrational frequency. In comparison with us, the clumsy ones, spirits have way more freedom to move around. They can show up instantaneously attracted by outbursts of our emotions, sexual activity, food consumption, music we listen, books we read, films we watch, and prayers we chant or say quietly in our minds. As a medium, I have attracted many dead writers during reading their books. A normal, healthy person is protected against the contacts with the spirit world by his inability to see or hear them. And on the contrary, the mediums are “punished” for their ability to see/hear and sense spirits becoming aware of their presence 24/7. So, mediums learn to close the channels and shut down the perception of the subtle world by their will.
8. Is the spirit world static or dynamic, does things change over there? The speed of changes depends on the frequency of energy weaves. The higher frequencies, the speedier the changes. In other words, in the Spirit World things change faster than on earth.
9. Can my deceased mother predict my future and father secure me job during the spirit communication session with a medium? This is a tricky question. Definitely, spirits see future.  They read our past and future incarnations, can give interpretation of our relationships, they can advise how to improve relationships, but they try to avoid predictions or search jobs for us. Why? Sometimes, there are situations in future that cannot be avoided. In this case, painting rosy picture of the future doesn’t do good either. If spirits see/sense good fortune ahead, like marriage, they say so without any hesitations. Hard to believe, but talking to a soul from the perished submarine “Kursk”, the navy Sanya said suddenly, “Your adopted son will marry soon a beautiful lady. I can see her clearly!” I did not believe this. My adopted son did not believe this either, as his astrological marriage signs were very weak. But it did happen, the lady’s marriage signs were also weak. But two minuses met, producing “a plus”!  So, whatever the predictions are, never give up on search for happiness. Today my son is the father of three beautiful daughters! Practical advice: do not pressure spirits to say what you want to hear. If they see, they say, if they do not see, they do not say, that’s it!

10. What do I learn from spirit communication? You learn about your responsibility to your own soul and your higher self; you learn how insignificant is your life in vastness of the Universe and how powerful is your mind; your learn how important is your imagination and how unimportant is your ego; you learn how little you know about Universe, and how short is your stay on earth; you learn the true value of love and compassion; you will revise your priorities, and if you continue your search, you may find God and learn to receive Light from Him; you learn to lean toward Him and find, finally, true security and happiness.

A Gunfight in Nowhere

Humphrey Bogart (1899-1957)

In following monologue Humphrey Bogart gives a most powerful picture of his egregore, a monstrous being birthed by the fused energy of his his fans.

 

Humphrey Bogart: — It was pitch black and I was alone. I experienced the same sensation as you did in the night dream lately as I can see. The name of the sensation is “fear.” However, suddenly fear started to loosen its deadly hold on me. And as it weakened, the darkness weakened, as well. It started to waste away gradually. The dark gray turned into light gray and thin streaks of light, coming from afar, attempted to pierce the gray clouds releasing their strange otherworldly clearness. I felt tremendous relief. I was breathing again! Now I found myself in the dusk of sunrise. I was waiting for the real sunrise. I imagined a horizon line, focusing on an imaginary spot where I assumed the sun should appear. Where were the first reddish-pinkish rays that would make the violet clouds disappear? I was still hanging in a cloud that was carrying me with astounding ease. I was not falling. I was laying on it as in some funny cartoon. Or, was I there in an upside position? I was losing orientation in that strange space that looked simultaneously familiar and strange. Then I understood what was missing — the gravitational force! It made no difference how I related to that cloud. The cloud didn’t care what position I took. There was no up, down, left or right. I tell you, at the start, it was truly confusing. It turns out that we depend almost exclusively on things that we take for granted. And believe me, the effects of the force of gravitation caps the list of things we take for granted. More light poured into the cloud that carried me toward some place in space that was not familiar to me. Now I was able to differentiate between the subjects around me. I was in the middle of a plain field, and I was no longer alone. I stood there facing a monster who looked even worse than the one described by the Russian guy¹ who recently worked with you, the medium. He had mercy on you and the readers. A true celebrity’s other worldly doppelgänger looks even worse. There was a slight resemblance to me despite all the profound differences. I was kind of a smallish guy. You read that I completely wasted away before death. I was so badly afraid to lose it and not be able to feed them properly and maintain the lifestyle what I was supposed to have that I died the death I was most afraid of — the death of the person who cannot eat… I had to die to see the connection between my fears and my destiny. If someone needs an example how we create our destiny, then here is a perfect example — me! My fears and my destiny! Looking at the despicable, gigantic monster in front of me who was supposedly impersonating me, all I could think of was his monstrous appearance.

On earth, I had a short temper. I had a short temper with my kids, wives, directors, coworkers. I couldn’t stand anything for too long. I am losing my temper now, with you, because of your limited English; because of your inability to keep your appointments with me… Even though I succumb to my habit of losing my temper with people who are below me, I understand clearly that you are doing me a great favor, not the other way around as many thought at the beginning of your otherworldly dialogs with us, here in the otherworldly reflection of the actual Hollywood. Our differences are “only some spins away.” Thank God, I am still capable of seeing and understanding that. My short breath and shortness in temper came from my inability to handle my fear of not earning enough money for alimony payments, mortgages and a list of other obligations that I was afraid to ignore. I was in awe of losing face in Hollywood. Now I have released some of that fear, but not all.

However, facing that monster, my short temper took over. I shouted as loud as I could yell given that I no longer had vocal cords, “Who are you, what do you want from me?” I quickly understood the consequences of the loss of vocal cords. But it did not stop my will to fight. I grabbed for a gun, and it did not stop me either from asking questions — questions such as how the heck the gun was there the instant I grabbed for it in a space around me? Every normal person would pause for an instant in amusement over the discovery that a passionate thought about something makes it “real.” But was I normal?

Before I knew it, I shot the monster! I believed it to be a balloon with human and animal waste all over its skin, but enough! You are already close to vomiting. According to earthly experience, if you shoot a balloon, it will immediately lose air and shrink next to nothing. But it did not happen with my doppelgänger. It did not die. It did not shrink. It did not react. It did not wince in pain. I kept shouting and shooting. I was shooting and shooting, and the monster was laughing and laughing, and became healthier and healthier, and bigger and bigger as I kept shooting and was near collapsing because I was again out of breath.

The more I fought against the giant, the healthier it became… I couldn’t believe what I heard… The giant spoke to me, “Go ahead!” He was saying, “Shoot me!” The giant looked pleased, he enjoyed being shot. It made him grow and become healthier. Even the layers of shit started to thin out, revealing the pink color of his “skin” or whatever it was. His laugh sounded as if it came from the bottom of an empty barrel, or from a cellar. Then he announced in a hollow voice, “Tomorrow the same place, same time! Come and shoot us. We love it. We need your energy, and in return we will protect you here.”

I panicked, and as fear embraced me, darkness enveloped me again.

Look up my horoscope. Somehow I have to manage to finish here, in my afterlife, what I was supposed to accomplish on earth. (Bogart’s stars ask him to learn speaking truth: not an easy task for a Hollywood actor! — T.) This is why we were given a chance to get a body on earth. Before I go, I want to say, all we have to take care on earth is balancing out our character faults, our fears — in one word — negativity! Fighting against it is not the way to conquer it. The more you fight, the deeper you sink into your own… I cannot use the word, you understand. Thank you.

They have given me the sign to stop for today. I will be back after you have edited our conversation, or earlier if you have questions. This was an honest man’s message of what is waiting a celebrity after death.

We want to be known, but anonymity is an important aspect of existence. Why the heck did you make me famous — I am asking God! Did I ask for it? All I asked for was to be worry free and comfortable with my rent. I never bought a mansion. I was modest with my social demands; I never went to extremes with houses, cars or women. My true friend was the bottle — also no good. It makes you indifferent to everything else. You have seen this with your relatives.

Tanika Palm: — Is there any way you can destroy your egregore?

HB: — No, there is not such a chance because it was born, not from me, but from my fans negativity.

T: — Does your egregore interfere with your afterlife?

HB: — This is a question that still has not yet been answered clearly.

T: — Who will you be the next time around on earth?

HB: — I don’t know yet. I will not be an actor. I don’t want any profession that has a direct influence on people and leads to the birth of an egregore. But I will not be a monk either. Will I be a gambler or an investor? It may happen and then I will also start writing as my hobby. I have played in so many poor films based on poor screenplays that I was thinking of trying my hand as a screenwriter. What they put on television is such a waste of time. I’ll try to do something better. Out of curiosity, I sometimes examine works of the greats such as Shakespeare, and wonder how he did it. He broke all the drama rules but always got it right at the end. I dreamed of rewriting his plays “Storm” (“The Tempest”) and “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”, but Woody Allen did it for me. Maybe I will try to do a better rewrite here, in my present world. If I succeed in this, I will pursue a playwright’s career with vigor! Vigor and energy are needed here as well! I will stay away from detective stories. I can see, in your attitude toward this cheap stuff, you have also achieved your status quo. What is “The Maltese Falcon” today? A nothing! What is “The Treasure of the Sierra Madre” today? An honest evaluation of situations that corrupt man beyond repair… I think we have a decent ending to my story. Thank you for giving me the hope to go ahead with a decent profession.

 

1 Vladimir Vysotsky, the Soviet Russian superstar, performing poet

 

CONFRONTATIONS

Humphrey Bogart

I have played in so many bad films based on poor screenplays that I was thinking of trying my hand as a screenwriter. What they put on television is such a waste of time. I’ll try to do something better.

Confirmation

Stephen Humphrey Bogart wrote in his book Bogart “My father, admittedly, played in a lot of stinkers, but he was always fighting for better scripts, never for the bigger paycheck.”

Humphrey Bogart

He broke all the drama rules but always got it right at the end. I had a dream to try my hand at rewriting his plays, “Storm” and “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”. But Woody Allen did it for me.

Confirmation

Shakespeare researchers say that when “The Tempest” was written, it did not attract much attention. But in the 19th century, theatre productions began to reinstate the original Shakespearean text, and in the 20th century critics and scholars undertook a significant re-appraisal of the play. Today it is considered to be one of Shakespeare’s greatest works. , “Shakespeare got it right at the end.”

Woody Allen wrote the screenplay and directed “A Midsummer Night’s Sex Comedy” clearly inspired by William Shakespeare.

Humphrey Bogart

What is “The Maltese Falcon” today? A nothing! What is “The Treasure of the Sierra Madre” today? An honest evaluation of situations that corrupt man beyond repair!

Confirmation

In 1990 “The Treasure of the Sierra Madre” was selected for preservation in the United States National Film Registry by the Library of Congress as being “culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant.”