My "Time in the Desert"

…But first I mean [ 155 ]
To exercise him in the Wilderness,
There he shall first lay down the rudiments
Of his great warfare, e're I send him forth
To conquer Sin and Death the two grand foes,
By Humiliation and strong Sufferance: [ 160 ]

- from Book One of John Milton’s PARADISE REGAINED

It was only about a couple weeks ago that I was a guest on a paranormal radio show where I discussed various pieces of my writing and documentary work, especially that which involved exploring certain aspects of the paranormal world. The show lasted about two hours, but the last half-hour of the program consisted of a discussion about past lives between the show's two hosts, a psychic medium named Lucy (name changed) and myself. It wasn't long into the discussion that Lucy started telling me that I had 23 past lives. I had already known about one life I had in Poland and another life I had in Hollywood, but Lucy said that another life I had was as a doctor and in another life I was actually part of a knighthood at a roundtable (whether this had anything to do with King Arthur's roundtable is unknown to me, as Lucy didn't elaborate).

Needless to say, it was pretty interesting to hear about these two additional past lives and I was especially excited to hear that I was once a knight. But my excitement quickly dissipated when the medium started telling me some other things about myself. She said that I was still sort of living with certain past-life traumas in my subconscious mind and – for whatever reason – they were making me very indecisive in my current life. When an opportunity came my way, I would have a very tough time deciding whether it was a good opportunity to take advantage of. I would carefully weigh the pros and cons of the opportunity, almost to an absurd point. This extreme indecisiveness consequently allowed a number of opportunities to pass me by, mainly because I waited too long to act on them. Lucy then started talking about how I had the potential to "go such great distances" in life but I "hold myself back", because I’m so indecisive and I don’t take advantage of enough opportunities.

Now, let me just say that this medium Lucy is somebody I completely respect. There is no question in my mind that this lady is very nice and warm and kind, skilled and legitimate. But I have to admit that this information was probably the worst thing that somebody like her could have said to me at that given point in my life. It COMPLETELY messed with my mind, awakening one of my worst fears: mainly, that I have let key opportunities pass me by and consequently haven't lived up to my full potential as a human being. Yes, some people fear death or heights or spiders or clowns, but, lately, my worst fear has been that I haven't been making the right decisions in life and seizing the right opportunities. So when I heard Lucy – a respectable medium – say what she said, my mind was thoroughly, pardon my French, FUCKED with.

And, yes, let me reiterate that Lucy is a respectable medium. I mean, I would be singing a different tune if some Joe-six-pack Schmo from off the street said these things to me, or even if a friend or a family member or a grandmother said them (which they have in the past). In fact, I've heard these words come out the mouths of all sorts of people in my life, but I never felt in my gut that what they were saying was true for me. My mind may have been screwed with a little bit, but, ultimately, I would just say, “who the hell are these people?” and remain confident about the path I had taken in life.

But then when a MEDIUM came along and said these kinds of things, it was a whole different ballgame. I know a lot of people out there don’t even believe in mediums, but - for whatever reason - I take mediums VERY seriously, almost as though they are a conduit from which God Himself speaks, and I know this is silly but I have to admit it’s pretty true for me. So when I heard a medium say that I was missing opportunities and holding myself back and not living up to my full potential etc., my mind was fully screwed with. For a good week or so after I spoke to Lucy on the radio show, I felt very angry and depressed...even doomed. I felt that I had missed crucial opportunities, “missed the boat” in life and that there wouldn't be another boat for a very long time or maybe forever. Yes, I felt like I was stranded on some desert island and a boat had come to save me, but I didn't get on it because I didn’t feel like it was the right one for me, and - if I hung in there just a bit longer - a better one would come along. But, shit, what if another one wasn’t going to come? What if I was doomed to roam this desert island forever?!

A whole week went by where I was filled - and I mean FILLED - with doubt about the general direction and atypical pathway I had taken in life. I prayed to God, hoping that I hadn't made any fatal errors when it came to making certain decisions about opportunities. I was cranky around people, had a snappy temper and was depressed. My nephews would come over to play and I had a tough time mustering up the ambition to play with them, because I couldn’t get my mind off the past. Yes, it was that damn "coulda, shoulda, woulda” mindset messing with me again (read more about this mindset in my previous blog). I was anywhere but in the moment, completely dwelling on past decisions. I was absolutely filled to the brim with doubt.

At some point, however, I had a revelation. I realized that I was worse off now than I had been before. I mean, I was actually feeling kind of happy and confident up until Lucy started telling me these things about myself. I know she was trying to help, but she paradoxically just made me feel worse. So what was even the purpose of telling me such things if it was only making me feel bad? It didn’t really make any sense to me. But then came the epiphanal moment. It suddenly hit me that Lucy may – just may – have been messing with me, but not intentionally. What I mean is that Lucy was unintentionally playing the role of devil’s advocate (so to speak) for the purpose of testing my confidence in my self. And when I say ‘unintentionally’ messing with me, I really mean it; again, Lucy is an extremely skilled medium and a very nice, warm, well-intentioned person. However, I believe that - to at least some degree - the voice that channeled through her in this particular instance came through as misguided judgment, all for the purpose of testing my faith and strengthening trust in my self.

In fact, this idea of trusting the self amidst a sea of voices that say things contradictory to your inner feelings has been a very big theme in my life, for several years now. And I have always perceived these 'outside voices' as collectively comprising the voice of the devil. Yes, I know what you’re thinking: “The devil!? Have you lost your friggin’ mind, Matt? You sound like a crazy person!” I realize that I sound crazy and weird and extreme but allow me to further explain what I mean:

If you are at all familiar with the story of Jesus, then you know that - immediately following his baptism by John the Baptist at the Jordan River - the Son of God subsequently spends forty days and forty nights roaming the desert and being tempted by the devil. John Milton's PARADISE REGAINED (the sequel to PARADISE LOST) does the best job portraying this time in Jesus' life. Where the Bible just talks about turning stones into loaves of bread and throwing yourself off cliffs so angels will lift you up, Milton's poem goes into much greater detail about the very complex and clever methods the devil uses in order to wrest Jesus off the unique, seemingly-pathless-pathway he was taking in life.

Late into Jesus' time in the desert, the devil gets very desperate. His temptations don’t seem to be working very well so he essentially starts trying to mess with Jesus' mind, awaken his fears, and fill him with all sorts of doubt:


These God-like Vertues wherefore dost thou hide?
Affecting private life, or more obscure
In savage Wilderness, wherefore deprive
All Earth her wonder at thy acts, thy self
The fame and glory, glory the reward [ 25 ]
That sole excites to high attempts the flame
Of most erected Spirits, most temper'd pure
Æthereal, who all pleasures else despise,
All treasures and all gain esteem as dross,
And dignities and powers, all but the highest? [ 30 ]
Thy years are ripe, and over-ripe, the Son
Of Macedonian Philip had e're these
Won Asia and the Throne of Cyrus held
At his dispose, young Scipio had brought down
The Carthaginian pride, young Pompey quell'd [ 35 ]
The Pontic king and in triumph had rode.
Yet years, and to ripe years judgment mature,
Quench not the thirst of glory, but augment.
Great Julius, whom now all the world admires
The more he grew in years, the more inflam'd [ 40 ]
With glory, wept that he had liv'd so long
Inglorious: but thou yet art not too late.

- from Book Three of PARADISE REGAINED


In layman’s terms, Satan is essentially saying, “What are you doing out here in the desert anyway? You're just wasting your time out here, letting life pass you by when there is important work to be done. Most of the world’s noble and great leaders accomplished so much more when they were much younger than you are. Here you are, 30-years-old, you're letting life pass you by and you're not getting any younger. Leave this pathless desert path now and go DO something!”

Now, do Satan’s words sound familiar at all? Yes, he’s basically saying to Jesus that he's letting key opportunities pass him by while he’s in the desert hardly doing anything. He’s holding himself back being out there in that godforsaken place. He’s not living up to his full potential…

Of course, when I draw a parallel between Jesus' struggle and my own struggle I don’t mean to put myself on the same level as Jesus, nor am I implying that I’m Jesus-like in any way. In fact, I’ve always viewed much of Jesus’ life (especially his time in the desert) as a metaphor for a very universal spiritual struggle most people go through at least at some point in their lifetime. The “time in the desert” is a story about taking a leap of faith, trusting in your self and ignoring the outside voices that give you bad advice and misguide you. It's also a story about doing something that - on the surface - looks foolish and stupid, even like a waste of time, but below the surface is very important and in your own personal best interest to accomplish. I mean, you would think the Son of God should be out doing big things - living up to his full potential, seizing big opportunities - instead of just hanging out in some deserted wasteland. But even though he’s not doing “great things” that appear to others as great and will garner him honor and nobility from his fellow man, on a spiritual level he is doing very important things, developing his faith and strengthening his trust, becoming more confident with what his inner self is telling him to do while ignoring outside voices that are so brilliantly personified in this story as the devil.

So, yes, the story about Jesus and his time in the desert gives me strength and inspiration, but I must admit that I could be very, very wrong when I compare my situation with his. When Lucy told me that I'm missing opportunities and not living up to my full potential in life and that I'm "holding myself back”, she could have been absolutely right. Once again, this lady is a very skilled medium and a very nice, warm person (I can't reiterate this enough). It may be absolutely absurd for me to label her voice as one of many outside voices that collectively comprise the voice of "the devil". So, yes, I still have my doubts about everything.

However, I have to admit that my inner self is telling me that, yes, this is your "time in the desert", a time to develop your faith and your trust, and don't let these outside voices bother you, because all they’re doing is creating conflict with your inner feelings and filling you with doubt. And doubt is bad; in fact, I would go so far as to call doubt evil. And if there's an outside voice telling you something that’s filling you with extreme doubt, then you can't really do anything else except ignore that voice. What ELSE are you going to do? Keep letting it bother you and drive you insane? No, letting it mess with your mind will only bring you down and make your life worse off.

So, yes, right now I'm identifying the voice of Lucy, the medium, as, perhaps, one last desperate attempt by "the devil" to wrest me off the path I have taken in life, a path that I feel is in my personal highest and best interest to be going down. And, again, I need to stress that when I say "the devil", I'm speaking metaphorically. I don't mean that an actual demon named Satan is messing with me. Like I said before, the devil is a personification of the misguiding outside voices; he is the anti-self, embodying everything opposite from what you personally feel inside your soul to be right and true.

I also want to reiterate that my "time in the desert" is NOT unique to me or – at least in my opinion - Jesus. Certainly Jesus was a unique individual, but his story that took place in the desert was a universally relatable struggle. EVERYBODY has their time in the desert at some point in their lives, going down a path in life that you feel is right but that outside voices say is foolish or dumb. This path may seem pathless (hence the desert metaphor) and at certain points you may feel forsaken. You don't know how long you'll be on it or where it leads. The devil will pull out all the stops to try and mess with you and knock you off the course that you are on. His temptations will come in many shapes or forms. He will show you an easier, well-defined path, where there is better money, more security, good-looking women or men. Maybe he'll drain your finances, take your car away or other material items. Then he'll take away your respect and your honor and your prestige in the eyes of men, make you out to be the fool or maybe even make you feel like a fool. But when all that doesn't work, he'll simply just try and mess with your mind. The "outside voices" will begin to assault you with their thoughts and judgments and opinions. He'll probably start out with people like friends and family, all of which will tell you that you should be going down a different path. Then when that doesn’t work he'll take on the form of people you respect a lot more. In my case, it was a medium. In your case, it could be a teacher or mentor or grandmother you have great respect for; or maybe a priest, minister or rabbi. They'll tell you that you're missing opportunities in life and you're holding yourself back, not living up to your full potential and, heck, you're just wasting your time out here on this godforsaken desert path. You can listen to these voices and take some time to assess their value, but ultimately you have to honor the voice that is inside yourself, because it’s this voice that is God speaking to you.

All in all, your time in the desert will be a blind leap of faith, but - sooner or later - you will reach a point where you will be rescued. In PARADISE REGAINED, Jesus eventually gets saved from the desert (after Satan pulls out every last trick) and a group of angels feed him a delicious banquet as reward for keeping his faith. I highly believe this banquet is out there for everyone. It's the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, the moment you realize you were right all along. You just have to have faith, trust in your self and filter out those devilish outside voices that will only distance you from the INNER voice that is God.

My Guest-Appearance on "Paranormally Correct"

On Thursday November 29th, I was a featured guest on Paramania Radio's "Paranormally Correct" with hosts Chad Mckenzie and Sara Spencer. I discussed my experiences with paranormal activity, my discovery of my spirit guides with medium Liam Galvin and my exploration of my two most recent past lives in Poland and Hollywood. Listen to the first 45 minutes of the show below, or go listen to the entire two-hour show at THIS LINK.

PART ONE




PART TWO

Coulda, Shoulda, Woulda...

Over the past few months now, I have been actively pitching my various film projects to agents, managers and producers. These people are - for the most part - in LA, so I've been pitching to them over Skype since I'm in Boston. Some of these pitches have gone well (the person liked the pitch/wanted to read the script) and some of the pitches haven't gone so well (the person had absolutely no interest in the script).

For the pitches that didn't go well, I constantly found myself unable to shake that horrible "coulda, shoulda, woulda" mindset. Maybe I SHOULDA pitched another one of my projects - he was probably looking for a drama, not a comedy! Maybe I COULDA focused more on my accolades - man, I forgot to mention that script I wrote that placed well in that contest! Maybe I was too nervous-looking. Maybe I wasn't enthusiastic enough. Maybe if I changed my shirt. Or maybe if I wore boxers, not briefs. Yes, if I only I had done such and such, I WOULDA had better luck getting my script read!

I don't know about you, but this "could, shoulda, woulda" frame of mind has been something I've been struggling with a lot lately, especially when it comes to certain choices I've made regarding my writing 'career' (sorry, 'career' is such a lame word). Part of me acknowledges the fact that this mindset is pure negativity; it is an indication of me being hung up with something that happened in the past and my failure to exist in the present. But another part of me keeps on saying "coulda, shoulda, woulda...coulda, shoulda, woulda..." over and over again like some neurotic demon is inside my head. Obviously the only thing one can do is shake this terrible mindset - because you can't go back in time and change the past - but that's easier said than done.

Earlier tonight, I was watching the show "Long Island Medium" on TLC. It was actually a day-long marathon of the series but I only watched the tail-end of one particular episode. There was a man being 'read' by the medium and his situation was very relevant to mine, only much more serious. A few years ago, this man's five-year-old son had been taking a bath one night and his father left him alone for a minute while he tended to some business in the master bedroom adjacent to the bathroom. While alone in the tub, his son suffered some sort of brain convulsion that caused him to pass right out and he consequently drowned in the tub. His father found him unconscious and tried to revive him but he was too late; his son was dead. Of course, this man was devastated by his son's death and always blamed himself for what happened. If only he COULDA stayed in the room. Maybe he SHOULDA checked on him sooner. If he was more responsible his son WOULDA been alive.

Anyway, during the psychic reading, the medium (Theresa Caputo) said that the man's son was "coming through" strongly and wanted to tell his dad to stop blaming himself for what happened. It wasn't his fault. He had to let go of the blame. There was nothing he could do to change what happened in the past.

Again, this man's situation was much more difficult to deal with than my own, but the struggle is similar and it made me realize that wrestling with the "coulda, shoulda, woulda" frame of mind is a very common, universal challenge for all people, although the situations that create the mindset come in all shapes and forms.

The bottom line is that there is no sense or purpose to living in the past and there's never any good that comes out of it. Maybe we SHOULD have done something different, but that's irrelevant now. We have to let go and move on, no matter how difficult that may be. The "shoulda, coulda, woulda" mindset is a demon inside of us that we must learn to overcome. Only until we learn how to transcend this mindset and live life unaffected by the past are we able to live the fullest, most uninhibited life in the present.

Super-Storm Sandy: Obama's October Surprise?

For the past few days now, all we've been hearing about is this Super-Storm Sandy wandering its way up the East Coast. It's been all over the news, radio, Internet etc. To say the media's really hyping this storm would be an understatement. Frankly, I don't remember the last time meteorologists have had such a dooming tone to their forecasts. You would think Armageddon was imminent.

But even though I've been hearing about this storm for days, it wasn't until today (Sunday, October 28th) that I thought about the timing of the storm (about a week before one of the biggest presidential elections in history). Sandy comes just in time to counteract all the momentum Romney has been gaining on the campaign trail. With the media placing its main focus on the super-storm and its aftermath, Romney's campaign is going to lose all the attention it's been getting while Obama is going to come forward as the "savior" in this time of national disaster. Yes, this impending national disaster could be the one thing Obama's campaign needs in order to guarantee a victory over Romney; history has shown time and time again that citizens usually rally around their current leader in a time of crisis (think Bush after 9/11). So could the timing of this "perfect storm" be any more perfect? Is it just a coincidence???

Of course, most people would look at super-storm Sandy and say, "Well, it seems like perfect timing, but we're talking about mother-nature here and you can't 'time' mother-nature." Well, what if it's possible that this super-storm Sandy ISN'T a product of mother-nature? What if it's possible that the worst storm in a hundred years may actually be engineered...by man?

Yes, I know this may sound very fantastical and, to be honest, I HOPE this storm is, indeed, a product of mother-nature, but I would be remiss if I failed to remind people that weather-control is a very real phenomenon; in fact, it's been possible for scientists to control the weather since the 1960s. All you have to do is type 'weather-control' into a search engine and you can read all about the phenomenon. There are fields of antennas around the globe (HAARP in Alaska being one of them) and they can ionize the air with electromagnetic waves, creating electrons that attract dust; moisture condenses around this dust and then produces clouds/storms. This means man can essentially play mother-nature - create storms, manipulate them, strengthen them, weaken them and even guide their pathways. Read more about weather-manipulation HERE.

Now, I really hope super-storm Sandy is not a desperate attempt by the Obama administration to deal the final blow to a Romney campaign that has been gaining more and more strength over the past few weeks. That would be one evil 'October surprise' and it makes me sick to think that such a thing could even be possible. But the reality of the matter is that storm engineering IS very possible and the perfect timing of this perfect storm smells fishy and looks kind of ugly to me.

Before I sign off, I need to make it clear that I am not pro-Romney or anti-Obama (I don't even know who I'm going to vote for, if I vote) so don't interpret this blog as a jab at any particular presidential candidate. In fact, I'm not completely sure the storm - if it IS a man-made "October surprise" - would be Obama's surprise, as it could possibly be an attempt by Romney's camp to delay the election, giving him more time to win more votes. But, then again, I would think that it would be only Obama's administration who would have access to HAARP-like devices, so the possibility of Sandy being Romney's surprise seems less likely, although still possible. Either way, I encourage you to do your own research on weather control and you can be the judge of what may be going on.

For more info on weather control:

http://youtu.be/iDfwHU7Cw6g (former Minnesota governor Jesse Ventura's documentary on HAARP)

http://www.wanttoknow.info/war/haarp_weather_modification_electromagnetic_warfare_weapons

http://science.howstuffworks.com/nature/climate-weather/meteorologists/cloud-seeding.htm

BY LOVE RECLAIMED

The following is a book review I recently wrote and posted on Amazon. Click HERE to learn more about the book. I highly recommend reading it:


BY LOVE RECLAIMED: JEAN HARLOW RETURNS TO CLEAR HER HUSBAND'S NAME is a book that provides in-depth insight into the possibility of reincarnation and past-lives, but this is also a book that provides perhaps one of the most accurate accounts of the "Golden Age" of Hollywood ever recorded. Why is it so accurate? Because the story is told by people who not only WERE there (Jean Harlow and Paul Bern) but - with the help of past-life regression - by people who actually ARE there. Yes, the experience of past-life regression is like going into a time machine and studying events played out in real-time, which is something that a historian has never quite been able to do (how else can you write about events without looking at them in retrospect?) In this sense, BY LOVE RECLAIMED is arguably one of the most truthful memoirs about Hollywood ever written! It doesn't capture reality as it was remembered; it captures reality as it actually happened.

But before I get ahead of myself here, let me just provide a quick synopsis of the book:

Through the process of deep hypnosis performed by Dr. Adrian Finkelstein MD., Valerie Franich M.Ed. (a behavioral health specialist living in Washington State) is regressed to her recent past life in Hollywood as Jean Harlow. Through the regression process, Harlow deconstructs the absurd unreality of Hollywood history as we know it. She gives readers the skinny on what REALLY went on during the Golden Age of Hollywood (which, as it turns out, wasn't so 'Golden'), specifically focusing on the mysterious death of her husband: MGM studio executive/producer/director Paul Bern (whom we find out - halfway through the story - is serendipitously incarnated in the person of Franich's therapist Dr. Finkelstein).

On the morning of September 5, 1932, Bern was discovered dead from a gunshot wound in his Benedict Canyon home (9820 Easton Drive, which would later become the location for the Manson murders). Fearing that a scandal could break out that would damage Jean Harlow's image, Louis B. Mayer - head of MGM - covered up the murder, manipulating the evidence so that it would look like a suicide. Mayer then contrived a fictitious narrative about how Paul Bern was a wife-beater who suffered from impotence and was so ashamed of himself that he ended his life. This story was a complete fabrication, although it was written into the Hollywood history books as fact. And now Jean Harlow - presently incarnated in the person of Valerie Franich - has come back to set the record straight. This is what BY LOVE RECLAIMED is mainly about: clearing Bern's name.

Of course, it's easy for the reader to walk away from this story casting harsh judgment on Mayer and the other key players at MGM who were involved in the cover-up (including one of Bern's good friends Irving Thalberg). But Dr. Finkelstein - while speaking as Paul Bern under hypnosis - makes a point to say that he now FORGIVES everybody who was involved in covering up his death. He knows that Mayer was looking out for the interests of his studio, because in Hollywood it was all about making money and beating out the competition. Harlow, after all, was MGM's biggest moneymaker at the time of Bern's death and a scandal involving her could have meant MGM's financial ruin. Of course, this doesn't excuse Mayer's actions in the least but it merely attempts to empathize with them. As we learn in the book, part of the reason why Bern decided to incarnate as a psychologist in his next life (as Finkelstein) was to try and understand why people do what they do...how could good people be coerced into doing things so ugly and awful? There are many reasons: concern about money/power, fear etc., and WE ALL have these types of concerns to at least some degree. Yes, we are all potentially subject to being ruled by these concerns, and we're all potentially capable of committing unsavory acts when these concerns get the better of us.

In fact, one of the main themes of the book (as stated by Finkelstein towards the end) is that acknowledging reincarnation and studying past-lives may be integral to bringing more love, forgiveness, understanding, respect and tolerance into the world. Once we realize that we have all been in a dichotomy of life situations - playing the role of the abuser and the abused, the victim and the victimizer, manipulated by or have overcome fear/concern for money - it's all the easier to FORGIVE others because we understand where people are coming from and realize we could have easily done the same ourselves. It's more difficult to look down on a person's actions and say "how stupid" or "how mean" or "how evil" when we understand that they may be at a certain level of soul development that we could have also been at a few incarnations ago. In other words, judging a person harshly according to their actions would be hypocritical since we were probably in the same underdeveloped spiritual state - if not in our current life - then maybe several lives ago.

Maybe it's this understanding of soul development - a spiritual growth that occurs over a period of several human incarnations - that will (at least partially) become what the future of the human race depends on for its survival. There will be less hatred towards others. More forgiveness. Less judgment...more understanding...and tolerance. In a world where wars break out as frequently as cold viruses, maybe past-life exploration has the potential to heal the human race for the long term. You never know...

Wait, What Really DID Happen to Charlie Sheen?

I was surfing YouTube the other night and - for whatever reason - I stumbled upon a documentary about a number of high-profile Hollywood people who were publicly questioning the events of 9/11 (watch the documentary HERE). These people (like Mark Ruffalo, Daniel Sunjata, Rosie O'Donnell etc.) are so-called "truthers" who believe that there's a lot of information regarding the events that the government isn't telling us. They point out several of the day's anomalies that raise major eyebrows. For example, why were the black boxes from the hijacked airplanes never found (black boxes are indestructible and are supposedly always found at airplane crash sites)? Why did firemen and other people in the towers hear multiple explosions before and after the planes hit, explosions that came from areas of the building that weren't hit by the planes? Why did building-number-seven fall as though it were a carefully-executed demolition (as expert engineers have claimed)? And if they did decide to "pull it", as the lease-holder of the WTC complex - real-estate developer Larry Silverstein - claimed in an interview, how were they able to set up the demolition so quickly (the building came down around 5:20pm that same afternoon)? Why did the BBC announce Building-Seven's collapse before it even occurred (as seen in this video, the building is still standing in the background while the reporter announces that it has collapsed)? How were nineteen amateur hijackers able to take over four commercial airliners and fly them into such precise targets (many pilots claim that such maneuvering of aircraft is nearly impossible to accomplish)? How did airplane passenger cell phones work at altitudes where there shouldn't have been any cell-phone service? Why did nobody see an actual plane hit the Pentagon? Why was no plane wreckage found at the Pentagon? Why did they confiscate all the surveillance cameras that would have been able to show the plane hitting the Pentagon? These are just SOME of the anomalies. The questions go on and on...

Anyway, between the years 2003 and 2009 Charlie Sheen was one of the most high-profile Hollywood figures leading the 9/11 truth movement. And when I was watching the YouTube documentary the other night (followed by other clips of him speaking on various talk and radio shows), I couldn't believe how rational, intelligent, coherent and - yes - SANE Sheen sounded. He was so cool, smart and charismatic, and he was genuinely concerned/disturbed by what happened on 9/11. Until the other night, I hadn’t even known that Sheen was so active in revealing the truth behind the September attacks. He even went so far as to make a "video message" (watch this video HERE), pleading with President Obama to launch a new, more thorough investigation of what actually happened (the 9/11 Commission overlooked virtually every anomaly of the events). So if Charlie Sheen was so damn intelligent and sound in the mind THEN...what happened to his mind in early 2011? Was he really just partying too much, doing too many drugs, smoking too much crack? Perhaps. Or was it something more???

A very calm, intelligent Charlie Sheen, before the meltdown (watch the Jimmy Kimmel interview at 4:35).

Charlie Sheen's February 2011 "meltdown" was perhaps the most public and sensationalized of all the various celebrity breakdowns we have witnessed over the years. He was all over the TV and Internet, looking twisted out of his mind, spouting such bizarre catchphrases as "winning", "I'm a rock star from Mars", "I've got tiger-blood and Adonis DNA" and "I'm on a drug called Charlie Sheen". Any words of wisdom he had about 9/11 or anything else was immediately discredited. Who would take this "rock-star from Mars" seriously? It would have been very difficult to do so. I mean, people all over the place were making fun of him - practically every late-night talk show host (Jimmy Fallon did a memorable impression that poked fun at him); tabloid news shows; Good Morning America...the View....every media figure was drooling and masturbating at the sight of Charlie's meltdown. He was such an easy target for cheap-shots and exploitation.

But was it just a coincidence that the most vocal, high-profile 9/11 'truther' just so happened to have the most publicized and sensationalized celebrity meltdown in history? Well, allow me to speak hypothetically for a moment. Let's just say you were an elite member of our government trying to cover up a black-op "false flag operation" like what may - just may - have happened on 9/11. Wouldn't the public meltdown of a very vocal, high-profile 'truther' like Charlie Sheen be mighty, mighty convenient for you? Perhaps a little too convenient?

Looking back on the meltdown, it was as if Charlie changed into a completely different person somewhere between 2009 and 2011. He went from such a calm and cool and smart and rational individual (especially when he was pleading with Obama to investigate 9/11 more thoroughly) to such a complete scramble-egg-brained wacko in the winter of 2011. In fact, the more I watched video clips of Sheen speaking so intelligently about 9/11 previous to 2009, the more it suddenly occurred to me that the highest paid television star in Hollywood may have been the victim of some kind of government mind-control operation, one that would essentially turn him into a wacko and discredit him to the point where nobody would ever take him seriously again, especially when it came to such topics as 9/11 truth.

Now, I know what you may be thinking: "MIND CONTROL?! That's the stuff of fiction!" Well, that's what I used to think. But, actually, it's not at all fictitious and its origins go all the way back to the 1950s when the CIA started a program called MKUltra (read about this program HERE). This program was an intensive effort to study ways in which an individual's mind could be altered and controlled by outside forces. Our government was mainly interested in doing this to counter mind-control techniques that the Russians/North Koreans/Chinese were supposedly doing on their own people. They also wanted to use it as an interrogation technique, hoping that there was a drug or some kind of psychological method that could be used to extract pure truth from a Russian spy or other detainee. But they also wanted to see if it was possible to turn a man into a pawn or robot, one who could then be used to assassinate enemies without remembering their actions afterwards. A man like this later came to be referred to as a "Manchurian Candidate", which we all know as a book and a movie but those works of fiction were actually based on some element of truth. 

Most of the CIA's mind-altering was accomplished through drugs like LSD or temazepam or mescalin. But there was also experimentation with hypnosis and torture-tactics like sleep deprivation, food deprivation, water-boarding etc., basically for the purpose of breaking down a man's mind and therefore making it easier to control. There was also talk of using sub-aural frequency blasts to erase the mind or alter its chemical balance in some way. And, later, there was talk of using microwaves for similar purposes.

The MKUltra program was supposedly halted in the 1970s but many believe that this was just a cover so that the CIA could continue to develop its mind-control techniques without the public crying about how unethical it was. The government knew that mind-control - however dangerous it may seem to be - could be extremely useful to them for a variety of reasons. Heck, it was the ultimate form of control over others. What more power do you need over people when you're able to control their minds, especially when these people are getting in your way, throwing a monkey wrench into your plans, like that pesky Charlie Sheen?

Of course, I'm not making any definite claims here but I think it's a strong possibility that Sheen's mind may have been altered by something more than just his own use of recreational drugs. And I'm not the only person to suspect this either. All you have to do is type the words "Charlie Sheen mind control" into the Google search engine and you'll find a good number of articles talking about the same possibility. The whole meltdown seemed way too fishy to so many people. How ironic it was that the most outspoken high-profile 9/11 "truther" just so happened to go bonkers in front of the entire world, exploited like some sort of freak for America's entertainment. It was all too convenient.

Charlie Sheen post-meltdown. Notice the change in overall demeanor and the look in his eyes.

Incidentally, Sheen isn't the first high-profile whistleblower that suspiciously suffered a meltdown immediately after causing the government problems. David Shayler - a former MI5 agent - blew the whistle on a botched attempt by the British government to assassinate Muammar al-Gaddafi in 1996 (they accidentally killed innocent civilians instead). Later, Shayler also spoke out about 9/11 being an inside job, a false-flag operation that the U.S. needed to stage in order to justify going into Iraq and Afghanistan and, ultimately, Iran and Syria. Not long after Shayler started being vocal about these events he gradually began to display very odd behavior, calling himself a messiah and deciding to become a transvestite (for more on Shayler's story, go to this article). Was the bizarre meltdown a coincidence? Maybe. Or maybe not...

But if Charlie Sheen really was the victim of mind-control, how was it done to him? Was he kidnapped and hypnotized? Slipped drugs somehow? Or perhaps it's more likely that microwaves were used to alter his mind. According to many sources, there is a field of antennas in Alaska that was created by the government somewhere around 1990. It's called HAARP (High-frequency Active Auroral Research Program) and the antennas are suspected to possess the ability to pump silent frequencies into precise geographical locations and can alter people's emotional state, as well as transfer ideas and information. If you don't believe me, just Google "HAARP mind control" or watch Jesse Ventura's Conspiracy Theory episode on HAARP or, even better, his newer episode entitled "Brain-Invaders".

I know all this sounds very far-fetched, but it may only be far-fetched because the MKUltra program has been kept hidden from us for so many years. Again, I wouldn't go so far as to make a definitive claim, but I would urge people to consider the possibility that mind-control was behind Charlie Sheen's public meltdown. I would also urge people to consider and be aware of MKUltra and mind-control techniques in general, which - in fact - may shed light on more mysteries than just the notorious Sheen meltdown. In fact, mind control may actually be a key piece of the 9/11 puzzle itself. Allow me to explain...

When people think about the possibility of 9/11 being an "inside job", they think about how difficult it would be to pull something so well-orchestrated off. The operation would have to involve a bunch of different people in several different professions. The hijackers would have to be "in on it". Demolition teams who rigged the buildings would have to be "in on it". Whoever confiscated the black boxes would have to be "in on it". So how could so many people be in on it and not say a peep afterwards? Even if they were paid outrageous amounts of money to keep their mouths shut, somebody's conscience - especially after ten years - would have to start eating away at them; somebody would most likely give into the guilt and start talking. But this hasn't happened. Nobody has come forward and said that they were somehow involved with this operation. So there's no way this could have been an inside job. Could it have??

Well, once we acknowledge the fact that programs like MKUltra exist and mind-control is a very real possibility, it's a little easier to believe that anybody who was "in on" the 9/11 events could have had their mind altered in a way so that they were unaware of their involvement. Whether it was demolition workers or the hijackers themselves, they could have simply just carried out their duties like robots and either died (in the case of the hijackers) or simply not remembered what they did afterwards (like in the case of demolition workers). Yes, I realize this all sounds fantastical, but if you're still skeptical about mind-control, watch another one of Jesse Ventura's episodes of Conspiracy Theory (entitled "Manchurian Candidate") where he talks about this very subject in even greater detail (watch it HERE). You will see a mind-control hypnosis demonstration and actually see an interview with a real life "super-soldier", a soldier used by the CIA to perform a number of missions while under hypnosis (none of which he fully remembers). Ventura also discusses the possibility of Sirhan Sirhan and Mark Chapman being Manchurian candidates under the influence of government mind-control (Sirhan killed Robert Kennedy and Chapman killed John Lennon). In fact, I don’t think it would be far-fetched of an idea to suggest that Aurora Colorado shooter James Holmes could have been under the influence of mind-control (read my previous blog “An Argument for the Second Amendment” to learn about the government's potential motive in orchestrating the Colorado attacks themselves). We all saw how drugged out Holmes was when he was first arraigned in court. His mind looked completely fried. And it's strange that he never had a police record or hurt a fly before he shot up that movie theater. But perhaps what's more eerie is that Holmes actually worked on writing mind-control programs as an intern at Salk Institute of Biological studies (read about this HERE). Mind-control was his field of study!

Once again, I know all this mind-control stuff seems very fantastic but I do feel it's something that the public needs to acknowledge and there also has to be some sort of public initiative to get the government to a) admit MKUltra is still alive and well and b) declassify its information about it. Putting Charlie Sheen's meltdown aside, I feel that mind-control could potentially be the last missing piece of the 9/11 puzzle, something "truthers" need to take a hard look at in order to get one step closer to figuring out what really happened on that fateful September day.

The Argument for the 2nd Amendment

As all of you know, there has been much debate over the past few days over whether there should be changes to the Second Amendment, which states that any American citizen has the right to keep and bear arms. This debate has mainly been sparked by the recent Colorado "Batman Movie Massacre" (thank Inside Edition for such a flashy title) where 24-year-old James Holmes walked into a movie theater armed to the teeth with guns and killed 12 people while injuring dozens of others.

Immediately after the massacre, I sided with those who believed changes should, indeed, be made to the second amendment. I thought the right to "bear arms" was an antiquated right more relevant in the late 1700s where people essentially couldn't possess anything much more powerful than a musket. I could see where our forefathers were coming from when they made the amendment. I mean, why should the government have arms while ordinary citizens couldn't? It wouldn't be fair. Everybody was equal. That's what the new America was all about. And if anybody ever snapped, that person would only be able to do so much harm. If, for example, a madman like James Holmes went into a theater where a play was being performed and started shooting people up, he would probably only be able to get one shot off from his musket before somebody was able to tackle him.

Today, of course, things are a little different. Muskets have been replaced with all sorts of powerful automatic weapons that can kill masses of people within seconds. And clearly this has become a problem...in Columbine, Virgina State, Aurora etc. So, up until recently, I thought that, yes, of course changes needed to be made. The 2nd Amendment needed to be tailored, if not abolished completely. This was the only way to prevent another mass shooting!

But before I made up my mind completely, I wanted to listen to the people who, despite the recent Colorado incident, were still adamant about protecting the 2nd amendment. And these people weren't just gun-toting NRA members who run Charlton Heston fan clubs. They were actually very intelligent, rationally-minded people. One of these persons was an alternative media radio host named Alex Jones.

Yes, I said 'Alex Jones'. Please don't stop reading. Many people quickly dismiss Alex Jones as an eccentric conspiracy theorist and I agree that he's extremely eccentric and oftentimes needlessly intense. However, I always try and hear him out before I completely ignore the guy. As far as the movie massacre goes, Jones is ninety-five-percent certain that the shooting was what-is-referred-to-as a government "false flag operation". This means that high-level government officials carefully orchestrated this attack and used James Holmes as a Patsy, the fall guy. Helping to support this theory is the fact that there were multiple witnesses who claim more than one person was involved in the shooting. One witness, for example, claimed he saw a second man let the shooter into the theater (how else would Holmes have entered through the emergency exit?) and another witness claimed the gas bombs were being shot into the crowd from several different directions, indicating that there must have been at least one other person involved. (View the interviews of these witnesses HERE and HERE).

But why would the government want to stage something so very horrific? According to Jones, they have a very specific agenda. There is currently a UN Arms Treaty being circulated around Washington that is expected to be voted on within the upcoming weeks. This treaty will essentially create a global weapons registry; all privately-owned firearms will have to be registered in a way so that all of these weapons will be accounted for and easy for the government to locate. Jones argues that the purpose of this registry is to make it easier for the government to disarm the public further down the road. If all weapons are registered, it's easier to locate and collect them.

Now, is it only a coincidence that the horrific Colorado movie massacre occurred at the same time that this arms treaty was going around Washington? In Jones' eyes, it wasn't. The movie massacre was staged by a high order of government officials in order to rally the public and politicians into supporting this treaty that will result in better gun control.

Of course, Jones' theory seems very fantastical at first, but when you look at certain details, it begins to make some possible sense. "False-flag operations" are not anything new...every government leader over the course of history (from Nero to Hitler) has used these tactics in order to rally public support for something. As evil as they may seem, in the government's eyes, the end justifies the means. Twelve people killed in a movie theater is a small price to pay for the long-term consequences of disarming the American public and (in their eyes) creating a more peaceful world.

But would disarmament actually create a more peaceful world? If you ask Alex Jones this question, he would be quick to cite a quote from our forefather James Mason, the co-author of the second amendment:

"To disarm the people is the most effectual way to enslave them."

Yes, Mason's quote comes off as being, perhaps, a tad paranoid, but one important example to look at in history is Hitler and the Holocaust. As soon as Hitler came into power in 1933 he immediately started making laws that called for weapon registries and those laws subsequently mutated into laws that gradually disarmed the Jewish people. His efforts culminated in the 1938 Weapons Law where Jews were forced to surrender all their firearms lest they be sentenced to a concentration camp for 20 years (of course, the Jews were going to end up in concentration camps anyway, though they didn't know it at the time). All historians agree that Hitler never would have been able to murder the 21 million people he murdered if he didn't disarm them first. It just wouldn't have been possible.

Of course, most people think the Holocaust is ancient history and nothing like that could ever happen again. But how do we know for sure? A crazy dictator like Hitler has risen to power time and time again during the course of World History. If we lose our right to bear arms, who's to say - several years down the road - that a Hitler-like leader won't rise to power in America? What if (for example) some nut-job came into power and decided that the solution to overpopulation (which, of course, is a major issue in today's world) is mass genocide? We would be sitting ducks. We wouldn't be able to do anything about it. They could come to our houses, methodically herd us into buses and ship us off to camps without having to deal with any kind of fight, just like the Jews in Germany. So we at least need to reserve the right to arm ourselves with weapons if only for the sake of deterring psychopathic leaders like Hitler.

Don't get me wrong: in an ideal world, weapons wouldn't exist at all, across the board. EVERYBODY would be disarmed - both the common Joe and members of the government and, of course, there would be no armed army. But this is not an ideal world and citizens become way too vulnerable when they allow themselves to limit their access to arms while the ruling government allows itself to be armed to the teeth.

But let me get back to the UN Arms Treaty circulating Washington right now. As I mentioned before, this treaty would create a global gun registry. The government will know who has weapons and who doesn't. Although supporters of the treaty believe gun registry won't infringe upon the second amendment, it actually does if looked at from the perspective of a potentially armed populace being a deterrent against a corrupt government. If (for example) a psychopathic leader like Hitler ever came into power with depopulation on his mind and he knows who has weapons and who doesn't, it will be all the easier for him to exterminate those who are unarmed or, if he goes the next step, collect the weapons from those who ARE armed. The key word is control. If there is actual gun "control", then a potentially armed public ceases to act as a deterrent against a corrupt government or leader. The thing that deters a leader like Hitler is the LACK of control, not knowing who has weapons - what kind and how much.

In summary, the UN Arms Treaty has the appearance of meaning well, but it is - in fact - a bad idea. Global registry of arms is the first step necessary in order to ultimately disarm the public entirely. Once a government knows who has weapons, it makes it easier to collect them when/if it wants to (and if, down the road, the government becomes as corrupt as Germany in the 1930s, it WILL probably want to).

So with the Colorado movie massacre conveniently taking place at the very same time this UN Arms Treaty is circulating Washington, there is all the more pressure for politicians and the public to give the treaty support. But I feel like we can't make any rash decisions, even after such a horrific incident like what happened in Aurora. Whether the massacre was a staged false-flag operation or not, we really need to take our time, look at the long-term effects of gun control and see if it's such a good idea to permanently limit our access to arms. And the important word there is permanently. Once we waive our right to bear arms, it's gone for good, and we will be in big trouble if - down the road - our government turns corrupt on us, which isn't a far-fetched idea if you look at the course of world history.

REEL MONSTER - my new novel

Please read the first ten pages of my third novel REEL MONSTER. What I may do is post a few chapters here and there, which will help motivate me to keep editing the current rough draft. Any comments or feedback would be appreciated as I go along, as it's a work in progress.

The story is about two misfit teens who find a magic VCR that enables them to pull their favorite movie star (Johnny Cruise) out of the movies and into the real world. With Johnny as their new friend, the two teens try to become the most popular kids in their high school and win over the girls of their dreams.

In the spirit of John Hughes movies like WEIRD SCIENCE and other fun 1980s teen flicks, REEL MONSTER is mostly a fun teenager story inspired by my days at high school and the wild fantasies of my youth.

To start reading, go to my other blog: http://reelmonsterscript.blogspot.com/2012/03/reel-monster-novel-pages-1-10.html

To Tell or Not to Tell? (Whether the Girl Has Herpes)

Note: The following is a one-hundred-percent true story, but the names of both people and bars have been changed for legal reasons.

Although the title of this blog sounds a bit fresh and, perhaps, base, I will tell you right now that said Hamlet-esque question has rather profound and philosophical connotations attached to it. Yes, you may be thinking that this is just another installment of the drunken Natty Ice Diaries, but this is actually a blog about serendipity, karma, God and Fate. Now, I'm not really sure where to start here, but I suppose the beginning is always the best place, so - without further adieu - here is the beginning.

It was a Saturday night. My friends and I were at an Irish bar called Sully's in a suburb of Boston. Prior to going out to the bar, I had consumed a Blue Moon and a 'Natty Daddy' tall-boy. A "Natty Daddy", if you don't know, is the newest member of the Natty Ice family; where Natty Ice has a measly 5.6% alcohol volume, Natty Daddys have a whopping 8.0% alcohol volume. In other words, I was already feeling pretty dang good by the time I even got to the bar that night. But then I proceeded to drink a Bud Light and also a Rum 'n Coke that a 46-year-old woman gave to me after I made out with her briefly (that's a story for another day). By the time last call came around at the bar, I was feeling extremely swell, bursting at the seams with liquid confidence. At around 12:35, I noticed a couple of decent-looking girls sitting at the end of the bar and I decided - what the hell - "I'm going to go talk to them".

So I headed over to the girls and recited my usual pick-up lines - things like "Hey, there she is!" and "Hey! I remember you from last time!" or "I know you! Don't I know you?!" The ironic thing about the whole matter was that I HAD actually met one of the girls before at another bar. It took me a minute to realize it was the same girl and then, when I refreshed her memory a bit, she remembered me as well. After a very brief period of small-talk, ha-ha's and petty flirtations, the girl - let's call her Brenda - asked what I was doing after the bar closed. She was heading to an "after party" at her friend's apartment just down the street and a couple other girls would be there as well.

"You should come," she told me.

Needless to say, I was excited to receive the invitation. And I was also surprised it had come so easily. In fact, I was convinced that God was smiling down on me that night. The big guy in the sky had finally come through and got me invited to an after-party. Of course, it wasn't sex that was on my mind...not at all. It was my soul-mate I was after. "Maybe tonight's the night I'll finally find her," I thought to myself. "Yes, this party was meant to be."

I told "Brenda" that I would love to attend the after-party. "But is it all right if my friends come?"

"How many?"

"Three."

"Sure, that's fine."

My friends were a bit reluctant about going to the party at first, but they were assured that there would be free beer there, so they eventually acquiesced and agreed to attend.

Twenty minutes later, we found ourselves at a cozy, two-bedroom apartment with three girls. To be honest with you, I had browned out by this point in the night and the details of our time at the "party" are a little hazy. I remember that there was a 12-pack of Miller Lights, most of which my friends and I polished off within the first ten minutes of being there. There were also a good amount of Jello-shots in the refrigerator and we polished those off as well. And then there was a game of beer pong set up in the kitchen, but we never actually played a round of it. I think there was some talk of spin-the-bottle as well but I think that was mostly my suggestion and nobody paid any attention to it.

For the first ten or twenty minutes of the party, I was mostly hanging out with Brenda in the living room, which was adjacent to the kitchen. My friends and the other two girls were in the kitchen chatting each other up, ha-ha-ing and flirting with each other. Every once in a while I would pop my head into the kitchen and see Brenda's friend (the one who lived in the apartment) - let's call her Tricia - standing atop a chair trying to change the bulb of a fluorescent lighting fixture. It didn't seem like the best time to be performing such a task, but I accepted the situation and didn't ask any questions. I should also mention that - while she was changing the bulb - she was also shouting "I need penis tonight! I need penis tonight! I need penis!!!" All this shouting led me to believe that the girl was either batshit crazy or incredibly inebriated. I ultimately determined the latter to be true after she dropped the fluorescent bulb and it shattered to pieces all over the kitchen floor.

My friends, of course, were intrigued upon hearing that Tricia "Needed penis tonight". In fact, all of our ears had pricked up a bit upon hearing those words. I mean, why wouldn't they? We were men after all. It was in our nature to be intrigued by demands like this. But it was also around this time that Brenda pulled me into a secluded corner of the living room and shared an essential nugget of information with me.

"She has herpes," she whispered into my ear.

"What?"

"She has herpes."

"Which one?"

"The one changing the light-bulb. The one who needs penis."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"Holy shit!"

Needless to say, I knew I needed to somehow spread this invaluable piece of information to my comrades as soon as possible. I poked my head back into the kitchen and made eye contact with one of my friends who was sitting in a chair. Widening my eyes at him and giving him the hairiest of hairy eyeballs, I motioned with my head for him to come into the living room. He kind of rolled his eyes at me but then reluctantly got up from his chair to see what was up.

"She's got herpes, pass it on," I said.

"What?"

"She's got herpes, pass it on."

"Really? Which one."

"The one who's screaming 'I need penis'."

"Gross."

Like a game of telephone, news of the herpes eventually spread its way to the rest of my friends, all of whom were thoroughly thankful for the information and incredibly turned off from the girl. One friend in particular was especially thankful; he was talking to Tricia the most and would have been most likely to have gone upstairs with her.

I think we were maybe at the apartment for maybe another half hour after the story about the herpes broke. After that, Tricia started trying to kick us out. She had apparently sensed a change in the vibe of the party, mostly in the form of us trying to stay as far away from her as possible. She knew the chances of her 'getting penis' from any of us were slim to none. So she was done with the party. She wanted us out.

My friends and I left the apartment without protest, very relieved that we were still STD-free and also thankful that Brenda had the heart to share with us the dirty news regarding her friend. She could have just said nothing and who knows what would have happened? Of course, my friends and I weren't interested in casual sexual encounters. We were more interested in finding a soul-mate than a piece of ass. But who knows? Maybe the Jello shots would have led one of us to make a horrible mistake, one that would haunt us for the rest of our lives...

So, yes, we retired to our respective residences that evening thankful that a guardian angel was watching out for us and protecting us from the evil herpes virus. But we hadn't seen the last of Tricia...or her herpes...

Flash-forward exactly one week later. My friends and I were back at the Irish bar Sully's. It was around 11:30 at night and the bar was much quieter than the weekend before. I got bored with the place pretty fast and we all decided that we were going to try another bar down the street called The Shamrock, which I had scoped out beforehand and knew was much more lively. But just as we were about to leave Sully's, we noticed a familiar face at the bar. Indeed, it was Tricia (whom we had since nicknamed 'Herpes'). She was with a nice-looking blonde girl who we had never seen before, though - based on the way she dressed - we assumed that she likely had some STDs as well. Tricia (aka 'Herpes') made some eye contact with us from across the room and we figured that this was our final cue to head out to the other bar.

We got to The Shamrock at around midnight, which was still very busy and pretty loud from the Karaoke that was taking place. There was a mixed crowd - lots of young people, some cougars, and some ladies who were probably beyond cougar-age. We were probably in the middle of sipping our first round of beers when we saw the familiar face...again. That's right: it was Herpes and her blonde friend. They had just walked into the bar and were kind of eyeballing us from a distance. We weren't completely sure if they intentionally followed us to the bar or just happened to go to the same place, but they were undoubtedly throwing us eyeballs and it unsettled us to say the least.

We figured the best thing to do was to avoid eye contact and pretend that we didn't remember Herpes, even though it had only been a week since we'd been in her apartment. This approach seemed to work. Herpes and Blondie walked by us a couple of times - pretending to be going back and forth to the bathroom - but we didn't acknowledge them in any way and they seemed to take the hint.

'Last call' at the bar crept up on us and, before we knew it, it was about 12:50 and we were finishing up our last beer of the evening. We noticed that Herpes and Blondie had taken up a stool at the opposite end of the bar and they were talking to a different group of guys. We couldn't help but be a little concerned about the well-being of these gentlemen. The boys seemed to be flirting and working their mojo on both Herpes and Blondie. Little did these guys know that they were were standing only inches away from a scorching case of herpes.

"Maybe we should say something to them," one of my friends suggested.

"I don't know...should we???" I asked rhetorically.

My question subsequently triggered a deep philosophical discussion amongst the four of us that went a little something like this:

"I'm a big believer in karma," I explained to my friends. "The way I see it...whoever ends up having sex with those girls without a condom, must have had some bad karma coming their way. God or Nature or Fate or whatever will intervene if they don't deserve to get the herpes."

"But what if that's why WE'RE here?" my friend pondered. "What if God put us in the bar tonight to protect those guys from getting the herpes?"

"Good point," I admitted. "After all, we wouldn't have known about the herpes had we not been informed (by Brenda) about their existence. Maybe it's our turn to 'pay the favor forward', so to speak. Maybe we need to spread the news."

In other words, my friends and I found ourselves in an interesting position. The fate of those gentlemen was basically in our hands. A simple warning on our end could prevent them from a long and horrible life dealing with a raging case of herpes outbreaks. We were basically God at that moment. Yes, it was all up to us. Say something...or don't say something. Their future was ours to decide.

So what did we do? Well, we unanimously decided NOT to say something...unless, of course, there was a good opportunity to do so. I figured that maybe I could speak to the boys if Herpes and Blondie went to the bathroom at some point, but this never happened, so there was never really an appropriate time to approach the men.

Closing time came and I needed to visit the bathroom before I left the bar. I figured this was a good excuse to walk by Herpes, Blondie and the gentlemen they were flirting with. Maybe I'd catch a snippet of their conversation and see whether the men were actually planning on going home with the girls. Maybe they were all just old friends and had no intention of having sex with each other. Yes, maybe I had nothing to worry about.

On my way to the bathroom, I didn't hear anything other than some ha-ha's and other unintelligible conversation; however, on my way back, I did hear something that raised some concern.

"We're going back to my place," Herpes said to the boys. "It's right down the street."

The insinuation was clear from the tone of her voice: she definitely wanted the boys to accompany her and Blondie back to the apartment. Apparently she was as desperate for penis as she was the Saturday before.

It was at this point in the evening that I started to get very anxious and paranoid. I felt like I was on that ABC show "What Would You Do?" and John Quinones was waiting somewhere with a cameraman to see how I would deal with the situation. Or maybe it was God that was putting me to the test. Maybe I needed to apply the golden rule - "do unto others" - or else be cursed with bad karma for the rest of my existence. Yes, maybe if I failed to do anything about this situation there would be a reversed situation down the road where I would contract herpes from a girl nobody had warned me about.

With all these thoughts racing through my mind, I made my way back to where my friends were and the bartenders started yelling at everybody to leave.

"All right, drink 'em up! Time to go!!!"

For a moment, I contemplated shouting "Herpes!!!" as loud as I could and then run out of the bar, hoping that the boys talking to Herpes and Blondie would get the hint. But I didn't do this. Instead, I placed my empty bottle of beer on the bar and...I left...with my friends...without doing a damn thing about the situation. That's right: I chickened out. We walked right out of that bar and headed to the parking lot where my car was.

"Well, another poor bastard's getting herpes tonight," I said to myself with my head hanging down to the pavement in shame. And maybe this would have been true...if it wasn't for another stroke of fate. Yes, the story wasn't over.

BOOM!!! There was an extremely loud crash that stopped us dead in our tracks. A random girl was driving down the street that was parallel with the parking lot and she rammed into an SUV that was parked on the side of the road. At the time, we found it rather strange that the girl had driven right into the back of a parked car. We figured that this girl was either severely inebriated or extremely retarded. Looking back on it, however, I feel like there may have been stronger forces at play. Perhaps it was a form of divine intervention.

We stopped in the parking lot awhile to observe the accident and make sure the girl who hit the parked SUV was OK. Within that time, Herpes, Blondie and their two guys exited the bar, exchanged some words that I couldn't hear and then started walking in opposite directions. The guys were apparently parked in the same parking lot as myself while the girls were parked elsewhere. I was relieved to see they weren't leaving together and forgave myself for not saying anything to them. I then turned to check out the car accident some more and was surprised to see more damage than I thought there would be. The owner of the SUV that was hit happened to be outside the bar when the accident occurred. He was a young man in maybe his late twenties. To my surprise, he didn't seem to be very pissed about the whole ordeal (probably because he was also intoxicated).

After a few moments of studying the accident scene, I started to hear a conversation taking place pretty much right beside me.

"Dude, I think we should go! Let's go!"

It was the two guys that had been talking with Herpes and Blondie. They were debating something and I knew exactly what they were debating: whether to go back to Herpes' apartment. It was at this point that I knew something needed to be done. Herpes and her blonde friend were up the road a bit and nowhere close by. It was as though God placed these guys smack-dab in front of me for a reason. There were no excuses now.

"Psssst. Psssst."

"Huh? Wuh?"

"Are you guys going home with those girls tonight?"

There was a confused look on their faces. They were unsure of who I was and what my intentions were. Was I an ex-boyfriend? Was I looking for a fight?

"If you are, I just wanted to let you know...I'm pretty sure one of those girls has herpes."

There was a blank look on their faces.

"What? Which one?"

"Um...uh..."

I suddenly caught some movement in the corner of my eye. I turned to my left to see who was coming and saw Herpes with her blonde friend. They had apparently returned to seal the deal with their boys. They were only thirty yards away and I knew I needed to get the hell out of there as soon as possible.

"The dark-haired one," I said and then quickly started to leave. "You didn't hear it here."

"Uhhh...OK," said one of the boys, still looking caught off guard.

"Just wanted to warn you," I whispered over my shoulder and, before they could say anything else, I was already several yards away.

My friends were still in the middle of checking out the car accident and were unaware of what I had just done.

"Hey!" I yelled to them, speed-walking towards my car. "We gotta go!"

They could tell by the look on my face that something was up.

"Oh no. Did you say something???"

"Yep."

I hopped in my car, twisted the key into the ignition and backed the hell out of my parking space. Eeeeeeerch...the car halted to a stop, I rolled down my window and waved for my friends to hurry the hell up! Get in! Then I shifted into drive, put the pedal to the metal and we got the hell out of there.

"Phew," I thought to myself. It was all behind me now.

I drove home that night wondering whether I had, indeed, done the right thing. Should I have just left well-enough alone and minded my own business? Maybe 'Herpes' didn't even have herpes and it was just a rumor. Maybe Brenda had only told us her friend had herpes because she wanted all the attention to herself that night at the after-party. I didn't want to be responsible for the perpetuation of any kind of malicious rumor. And I didn't want to stand in the way of an innocent (clean) girl getting some penis that she seemed to be desperate for.

But, then again, I figured that when there's any doubt about a woman's cleanliness, you gotta call it out. Yes, when in doubt, call it out - it should be an unwritten part of the gentleman's code. Besides, there were too many serendipitous events at work during the night for me to have done nothing about the situation. I mean, without that car accident stalling us, I'm pretty sure I would have left the parking lot before I even saw the boys contemplating whether to go to Herpes' apartment. As for the guy whose car got smashed, I'm not sure how to explain that one. Maybe he had some bad karma coming his way. Maybe the entire organization of events was part of some super-intelligent, super-efficient plan where bad karma gave birth to good karma, or somebody's good karma became somebody's bad karma and so on and so forth. Yes, after that night, I was convinced that there was, indeed, a God carrying out a complex plan called life; in fact, I was so convinced of this that I would now like to take this opportunity and announce that I've since decided to become a born-again Christian (just kidding).

Of course, I don't know whether I made any kind of a difference in the outcome of anybody's night. For all I know, those boys didn't believe me or didn't heed my warning and they still went back to Herpes' apartment, had loads of unprotected sex and are now living with a latent herpes virus that will break out on them when they least expect it. But I guess I can't be too concerned about that. I did what I could. If they didn't heed my warning, then that's their problem.

So...to tell or not to tell? That is the question. And I think I have come to the conclusion that the answer to this age-old question is pretty clear: TELL!!! Well, that's what I think, anyway, though I could be wrong. What do YOU think? What would YOU do???