Convoluted Universe: Book One by Dolores Cannon, 1/5
In retrospect, I should have known better than to attempt to read a book on any topic written by a self-proclaimed “investigator into the paranormal through the use of hypnosis.” However, I succumbed to the back cover’s tantalizing promise of “metaphysical ideas that border on quantum physics,” thinking that perhaps the old saying it’s the message, not the messenger, was applicable. Alas, I was too optimistic.
In the interest of fairness, I persevered through 113 punishing pages of unmitigated nonsense, presented in the form of interview transcripts with two hypnotized women. The first woman claims to have been a medieval prince in a past life, who was taught the “real” history of earth by an extraterrestrial being. Her story focuses on intergalactic political intrigue and alien visits to earth throughout history, during which they supposedly imparted knowledge and intermingled with humans. There is nothing remotely plausible about these outlandish ideas, which read like standard sci-fi fare, presented in a tedious Q&A format.
Even poorly written sci-fi was more bearable than the interviews with the second woman, who does an absolutely terrible job of pretending to channel alien beings. Her acting is cringe-worthy and she artlessly strings the author along in an attempt to obscure the fact that she has nothing of value to communicate. Here’s an example from pages 99 and 100:
D: Are you listening to someone?
J: (Her voice sounded more normal.) Yes. It’s somebody that wants to speak to you, but they can’t talk English, and I can’t talk that. And we’re trying to figure out how to do it.
D: Can they have someone else communicate it?
J: They’re looking. They’re talking. They’re having a little discussion. They’re in the corner. It’s like they’re trying to decide.
D: Tell them we’re running out of time here. I really want to get the message, because they were giving me instructions. (Confusion) Maybe they can relay it to someone else who can give me the message.
J: That’s what they’re doing. (Softly, as though talking to someone else.) Okay. (Big sigh.)
D: Are they ready now?
J: (Another louder voice.) Perhaps.
D: Because I have no way of knowing if I’m breaking any regulations, if they don’t instruct me.
J: (She started to talk, then cleared her throat, as though the being had to adjust to her vocal cords. The next voice was definitely feminine and softer.) There have been no regulation violations. But we would caution you to be extremely careful in your casual discussions of the phenomenon. You must be careful with whom you share casual information. There are sensitive areas. It is important, I repeat, just casual information and sharing is not allowed. You have done well, and we are thankful. One of the problems could be the nature of the information, and the timing. It is not a matter for everyone to know everything. You are very good at being able to determine who should know what. That is a level of your expertise that allows us to work with you well. It is not a matter of trusting or not trusting you, as much as it is a matter of timing. Time to know, time not to know. So, whenever you are given information in the future there will sometimes be instructions not to divulge it, until you are given further instructions. Perhaps you can find a way if it is necessarily crucial to something on which others are working, to advise them. But do not divulge your source. We will be orchestrating their knowledge, so that anything that is shared with others will be of a nature that it is preapproved.
Throughout, the author does not seem concerned with establishing even the pretense of plausibility and her interview techniques are atrocious, clearly meant to assist her subjects in their inventions. The so-called secrets of the universe that these women are meant to possess are nothing but sci-fi cliches and it is telling that, in both cases, the women made great efforts to get in contact with and work with Cannon, who made herself available to them only sporadically. If, as she claims, Cannon was receiving “lost knowledge” and “allowed to have the answers to any questions [she] wished to ask” from these women, it is odd that she was unwilling to go out of her way to meet with them, and prioritized speaking engagements and mundane entrepreneurial activities over receiving information that, if true, would be of infinite value.
All of this might lead you to wonder, as I did, how such a ridiculous book could come to be published. It turns out that the author literally started her own company (Ozark Mountain Publishing) because no one else would touch her work. The fact that she was forced to go to such lengths would be an encouraging statement about the survival of common sense amongst readers, if it weren’t for the fact that, for some inexplicable reason, Cannon managed to develop a following of people who took her seriously and continue to propagate her bat-shit crazy legacy even after her death.
Why I read it: It came up in conversation with my massage therapist.
The rare combination of humility and genius is as beautiful as it is surprising, especially when encountered in one of the greatest physicists of the modern age. These three lectures, given at the University of Washington in 1963, explore a variety of unscientific topics–from politics to religion–and surprisingly, do not provide any answers. What they do give, however, is the opportunity to see non-scientific issues from the point of view of a scientific genius. This point of view is very different from the arrogant, condescending, closed-minded attitude that comes across from many figures in popular science, who seem to feel that their expertise in a narrow field qualifies them to make pronouncements on everything. In fact, the emotion that stands out most in these lectures is doubt. Not a lazy, depressing, hopeless sort of doubt, but a humble, searching doubt that fuels relentless curiosity. Feynman seems unwaveringly respectful of opinions and beliefs that contradict his own, while applying a formidable intellect and rational approach to the less scientific aspects of human existence.
Why I read it: I’ve enjoyed the two other books by Feynman I’ve read (QED and Six Easy Pieces) and jumped at the chance to read a less challenging book by him when I came across it in Henderson Books.
Schumacher eloquently weaves together the topics of economics, environmentalism, philosophy and spirituality in a very thought-provoking way. He makes the case for a smaller-scale, more personal, moral, holistic and sustainable approach to the business of business, in contrast to the soul-crushing materialism of a modern society that worships wealth, serves mega-corporations and demands growth at any cost. He envisions a world where men are not unhappy cogs in giant money-making machines, but are engaged in work that is fulfilling, promotes their physical and spiritual well-being, and benefits their communities.
I fear that, in stripping Schumacher’s ideas of context and rationale, my summary makes them sound a bit like trite hippie-talk. They are not so. Schumacher makes an intelligent, efficient case for most of his beliefs and almost every page is quotable. It is because of the vast quantity of insightful ideas and observations that I have refrained from quoting any at all and have instead bought a copy of the book for future reference.
My favourite parts of the book are the more philosophical sections in which Schumacher looks at what it means to be human. (I especially enjoyed Part II, Chapter 1, which focuses on metaphysics.) His visions of a human existence that transcends the rat race is inspiring and encouraging. In general, the author places significant value on both Judeo-Christian and Buddhist morals and makes the kind of powerful case for spirituality that seems to come naturally to intelligent former-atheists like himself. This is refreshing, since society nowadays seems largely unwilling to acknowledge the numerous positive effects of religion, focusing instead on, say, the Crusades or sex scandals involving pastors.
My least favourite parts of the book involved Schumacher’s proposals for actually putting his ideas into action. It is one thing to attempt to influence someone’s personal beliefs and quite another thing to merely inflict your own on them. I believe that the kind of morality and radical changes that the author wishes to see enacted on a massive, economic scale can only come from personal conviction at a grassroots level. Anything else infringes on that necessary human freedom to make your own decisions, even if they are bad ones (addressed by Dostoyevsky in Notes from the Underground). Also, at times, the author seems to wish for a happy, hobbit-like society, where everyone is a subsistence farmer except for Fred, who makes shoes, and Sally, who weaves cloth. He doesn’t seem to leave much room for human nature or for people who think differently than him, such as innovators, scientists, entrepreneurs and visionaries.
[Why I read it: I think I saw the title in an article about The Times Literary Supplement‘s list of 100 most influential books published since WWII.]