My Library

Back in 1972, "fringe" still meant "looney tunes"... "wacko"... "deranged." Today in the 1990s, use of that term has virtually disappearedreplaced by "cutting edge." The SRI adventure could have only two possible outcomes. (1) I would fail, but only by having demonstrated the courage to try at which time I could finally put and end to this whole affair; (2) Perhaps some small positive result would result by having tried, at which time I could rest on those small laurels and finally put an end to this whole affair. Either way, I could finally STOP this whole mishmash and get back to painting, writing or whatnot. God, how I wanted all of this to END, and to fulfill Janet Mitchell's wonderful analogy when she said I had burst over parapsychology like a Roman candle to which I had replied that their beautiful lights don't last long. Finally, I really DID have to stop all this parapsychology stuff and bullshit. You see, for one thing there was NO money in it for a "psychic" research subject. The only problem was how to get out of it the best way possibleand it was Dr. H. E. Puthoff who would provide me either of the two face-saving avenues to do so. It was with all this in mind (and I do remember it very well) that I stepped into the plane completely certain that all of this incredible silliness would be over with one way or another within a week's time and everyone's face would be saved at least in some respects. In other words, Dr. Puthoff was to be my vehicle of ESCAPE, my route back into my mundane FREEDOM, after which I could get my nerves together and resume writing erotic novels and painting metaphysical paintings. Alas! The best laid plans of mice and men oft go astray, as the old cliché goes. As it turned out, I didn't escape anything.