YES, Da-da's scaling back his blog, but he's still gonna give you something thoughtful every week... or as thoughtful as Da-da ever gets. This is the first of a series of posts, appearing every Thursday, that will give a glimpse into some of the non-fiction books Da-da's writing.
Long-time readers of TOAMCDD ("Triumph of a Man Called Da-da") know that Da-da is nothing if not
One of the most interesting of the above group is a medium Da-da will call, "Charlie." Not to be confused with a psychic (Da-da will tell you about Joy later), Charlie is an interpreter between the living and the dead, and can talk to both. ("But I prefer talking to the dead," she's said.)
Before Da-da goes much further, he should remind those in attendance that he's educated in physics and hard sciences -- and a lot of other things that get you stared at at parties -- and he would *never* mention this kind of thing if he hadn't experienced it himself and seen it transform people's lives. (Yes, for the better.)
Anyway, since Da-da recently finished his third book (out at a publisher), he's now surprisingly halfway through his fourth (if his fifth doesn't interfere, an equally compelling novel for a Young Adult audience). His fourth book is a 100% true account of what transpired -- in between annoying parentheses and questionable grammar -- at Spook Central, Da-da's very own (formerly) haunted house, replete with photos (and more parentheses), as well as Medium Charlie herself, who played such a big part in cutting Da-da's Gordian Ghost Knot that Da-da's gonna write another book just about her. Da-da also has a whole list of world mysteries that will be SOLVED by the end of that book. Da-da can't wait.
Back to Medium Charlie, already in progress...
When you experience how the dead handle being dead, and how the living view the dead, you realize that both sides of the veil need a good talking to (or slap in the face) about, "reality." The living are in denial about death -- which doesn't exist, duh -- and the dead are just as f*cked in the head (the clinical term) about what they believed when they were alive, maybe more so. Seems like both sides have way to much to say. Charlie is in constant contact with what she calls, "Spirit" (in the overarching, plural sense) and besides helping both sides of the equation balance out, she also occasionally taps into the most random and fascinating things.
Da-da knows what you're thinking: "WHO WAS JACK THE RIPPER"?
Well, we still don't know, 'cause Charlie surprisingly deferred:
I tend to stay away from learning about people like that. I don't ask them to come into my vibration. I get things through sensing their thoughts and feelings and I don't get into those folks. Unless they come to me. But I'd rather not. Its a completely different feeling that comes across when you channel spirits who are still in a bad way on the other side. I don't even like sensing angry violent people. But sometimes someone is related to someone like that, so I let them in just for a short time.Fair enough. How'd you like to have some bloody psychotic murderer in *your* head? (Factually, Jack the Ripper was Frankenstein's brother, Murray.) However, Charlie's most recent random receptions involved other historical personages.
Wild Bill Hickok
I had the most bizarre dream where Bill Hickok told me he was lied to. It was weird. I felt I overheard a conversation between him and a woman who was lying to him about where she was. She was setting him up. So not knowing so much about wild Bill I look him up. Apparently he died with a gunshot to the back of the head with his back to the door while gambling. Somehow I cannot believe that. As a former bartender, I knew that the mirrors were put behind cash registers because in the Wild West, no one ever had their back to the door. If you did, you had a mirror on the wall. So something sounds weird about his death. Why he is telling me? Not sure.Amelia Earhart
I hear her send signals for help but I feel she was ignored by the men who heard it. I think they were trying to teach her a lesson then poof, she was gone. Everyone learned a lesson.More later. Wait'll you hear about the klansman. And Da-da's grumpy cat finding true happiness. Da-da couldn't make this stuff up. Well... he could, but he doesn't. Except the Frankenstein's brother Murray thing; his brother was actually named Steve.