My Library

Friday, 9 June 1972, was to be my last day at Stanford Research Institute. And in my mind, it was also to be my last day of being mixed into psychic and parapsychology stuff -- 80 per cent of which was cow pucky -- pure and simple. Puthoff, however, wondered if I’d consider making another trip to SRI if he could arrange matters. And this we discussed at Pete’s coffee spa. As I explained to him, my excursion into parapsychology as a test subject had begun in midJuly 1971, eleven months ago. Prior to that I certainly had seen the field as important and Psi stuff had been of deep interest to me many years before that. But in this, the term "enchantment" could best be used to describe my interest -- for, like most people outside the field, my vision of it had probably been enchanted by visionary books and science fiction ideas of what was involved. But the eleven-month direct experience had shown me a few candid realities -- among which was the principal fact that the field was a hellhole, and in more ways than one. The inside of parapsychology was wacko. Outside of it, the social, academic and scientific stance was wacko. Puthoff assured me that he was on the case now, and that things could be made to go differently. Yes, I said, that might be. But for HIM, not for me. After all, he was a Ph.D. scientist. I did not have a Ph.D., and if I continued I would always be considered only a subject sitting around waiting for some Ph.D. researcher to test something or other.