November 2005

Exobiologically Egocentric.

If you make a long enough, latin-sounding word of an idea, does it automatically gain more credibility?
I hope someone comes-up with some better name for what I’m about to say:

Yesterday, November 24, 2005, I was cruising the ‘Net for comments for and against George Green (He is famous for his interraction with Billy Meiers and for speaking of the NWO).

I came across a long treatise that was a synopsis of many individual’s input on the diversity and number of ET’s that presently interract with Earth.

And that’s when I found “The LaCerta Files”. This has been an epiphany for me, even if the LaCerta files are a hoax. By the way, Google LaCerta and it means “Lizard” .

Basically, a Swedish Earth woman is given the opportunity to “interview” a reptillian/mammalian humanoid creature, who explains that she is interested in seeing what the long-term effects will be of her coming-forward and giving information to said Swedish woman. The story has a few elements which I think make it likely to be a hoax, but I can honestly say that I would like to believe the story. Even if a hoax, it made me “see” things differently, about human origins and our place both on this Earth and in the Universe.

LaCerta tells the woman that Humans are not the indigenous people of Earth, nor are they the rightful owners… so what, you say?

The important shift in thinking here is subtle yet profound. Before, I had an automatic belief that Humans were somehow the darling species of our planet… that our planet tolerates us, as do other ET’s, because we are somehow the Earth’s “children”. Children who are genetically manipulated, exploited, confused, etc, but somehow part of the original design of Earth. But I’ve changed that view for now.

How about this instead:
Earth is a planet that was intended to produce a reptilian humanoid first, with mammalian humanoids as an afterthought. Reptilian humanoids, regardless of what we think of them, were the first and are still the rightful “children” of the planet, destined to be an extension of the Planet itself… Earth’s zygotes. Humans, as we are today, are like a litter of kittens thrown on the doorstep, diseased and orphaned.

The reptilian humanoid body is a more likely one. It would be a more efficient design, biologically, and a single large brain would become intellectual more quickly than the mammalian “double-hemisphere” design. Mammals are a funny bunch, because our fragile nature and divided brain make us both more complex and more given to behaviors outside of the realm of survival and harmony, and evolution. But, with that said, mammals are lots of fun! We do the craziest things, and we probably make great entertainment. Anywho…
So we human mutants (keep in mind it is our physical form I’m being critical of, not the intrensic value of our souls) are a bunch that no one knows what to do with. We don’t belong anywhere. Too cute to kill, to deadly to take inside, so to say. But, definately loveable, if not by most, than at least by some of the other races. And, we provide a convenient place to send the souls currently screwing-up the more peaceful places in the Universe.

You see, other planets have figured-out that if you simply kill a “bad seed”, that you haven’t destroyed the energy of that individual. It will re-manifest somehow somewhere. So, they send these souls who keep stirring-up trouble to Earth. Penal colony of sorts. On Earth, there are plenty of other misfits, and saints in disguise to assist them in experimenting with ideas of harmony. I see people’s past lifes, and I see some pretty raunchy characters among us. But I digress.

I think that we, as Humans, tend to act as though we *belong* here and that the planet owes us something as its rightful offspring. Unfortunately, I think that is probably not true. The reptiles are to the planet, what we think we are. And the reptiles are tolerated, by other et’s, as we wish that we would be. The reptiles get to say, “It’s my planet”. When humans say this, the One’s who know snicker a bit, I think. Do et’s snicker? Let’s hope they have a twisted sense of humor, when you think of the plans to militarize space by Humans.

I’ve said a lot, and still I have said nothing at all. But, I have a new paradigm by which to feel my way through this world. I know nothing, suspect much, and am ever questioning.
In the end, wisdom is greater than all the knowledge ever attainable. Wisdom is transportable, knowledge is fixed.
Comments, anyone?

– Chad May

Those horrible codependent feelings. You know, the ones you have with someone. Or at least had.

Let me validate you a little bit.
The fact that we, as humans, can love broken people… and keep on loving them… and love them more, even when we almost kill ourselves in the process…
I think we are admired thoughout the Universe for this. Can you imagine what we would be like if everyone was somehow “too smart” to try to love a broken person? So, then, who’s to say how much – or how far you should go – to love a broken person? Is there something so much more valuable and lasting for us to do as humans with our time and energy?
Of course, eventually, you get enough of it, and you make the decision to cut that person off. And there is no right or wrong time to do it. You must be happy with how hard you tried, because you will wonder if you tried hard enough. The chances are low… very low… that your love will help the person heal. But it does happen. Rarely. But it does.
Perhaps seeing your love for someone be the rare case of helping such a person, actually makes you think your success might somehow be repeatable. Oops! Kinda like playing the lottery, isn’t it?

Never love a broken person in hopes of having them in your life… not because it isn’t possible for them to become whole. But, because when they do become whole, they will be a different person than the one you fell in love with. Broken – they are someone from their past life, and maybe that is why you feel so strongly for them. Whole – and they become the person they shoud have been all-along, and usually not someone matched to you.

You know, there is a paradox of sorts: Broken people will never heal until they both want to, and someone helps them. But, broken people will never want to heal until they have hurt some number of people who love them. So, we love broken people, and hope that we will be the one in whose time they choose to heal. And of course, some never heal. I can say that the only *real* reason why people heal, is not to be happier or more serene, but to be able to benefit others. Broken people are so amused and entertained by their own drama, that they won’t remove themselves from their drama unless somewhere, deep down inside themselves, they get a bigger kick out of helping other people. That’s my take on the subject.

– Chad

Writing poetry was a big breakthrough for me. Somehow, it was healing. During the months when I did most of my writing, and I’ve not written much, I felt like I finally accepted who I am, via my ability to *say* who I am.

And, hey, it is a little like mental masturbation. Writing is. Being hip and cool is.

During this summer of 1993, I was struggling just to feel ok with being alone. I was 24 years old, and too sensitive for my own good.

One night, I was sitting at Bongo Java, and I thought to myself I would feel better if I could write something poetic. “Mary” was serving coffee. She didn’t look happy *at all*. And I felt myself energetically probing her, and both wanting her attention and wanting to cheer her up. She wouldn’t budge. With that in mind and heart, I sat down and wrote:

Humming, drumming, restless mind fumbling….
What to think?
“Please go to sleep!”
Could I want, something to eat?
Who broke the clock, dropped on the floor?
Who left the sock, not in the drawer?
Plastic spoons!
Pink bassoons????
Thoughts so random, flowing so fast….
Rest my love, and sleep, at last.

This was about how your mind comes-up with the craziest of random thoughts, right as you drift off to sleep. I was so pleased with myself that I had written this… and I copied it onto a slip of paper, and handed it to Mary, with my phone number.
She barely looked at me, and glanced at the piece of paper, and slipped it into her pocket. I saw her only a few times thereafter, and she never noticed me. She was probably in her late 20’s. Oh well. But I had the poetry, anyway.

– Chad

I posted this to “Jules” on . A thread in her blog kinda got me going on this.

Ok, just thought I might add my 2 cents to this convo.

Alot of this is straight from Robert Bly/Iron John, and some of it is a Chadism:
Most American men are just too nice… or is it really nice that they are? No, we are scared to anger or disapoint women. And women will seek men whom they think are more accurate “sounding boards” for their own feelings. A very feminine women doesn’t need any more femininity. And certainly not from her mate. If she lets herself get too close to a man who doesn’t show an ability to act out of (the oppsosite of) pure emotion… she fears not surviving, on some instinctive level. She seeks a man who will let her emote, and be pure emotion, and she will let herself totally go… trusting that he will prevent her from going too far… but we “nice guys” were taught to “be nice” to women, instead of respectfully being their opposites. Sometimes, being a man means being an unpopular person with women. Yes, they will hate you for telling them that you aren’t willing to enable their co-dependent relationship… but will thank you soon for your strength.
I was a nice guy, too, once upon a time. And a good woman friend told me that no matter how much it hurts a woman, always tell her the truth. She needs the truth as you see it, from your male-species point of view. In America especially, you find men apologizing for being male, and they do this out of genuine shame, and the Mommy attention it gives them from other women.
I find that the more intensely a man allows himself to *HATE* women, then the more intensely he will also love and be kind to women. Wow, I can feel the heat. I mean hate in a symbolic way… not in the uneducated, slovenly way. OK, maybe hate is a bad choice of terms. But it shakes the reader up into thinking differently. Put differently, if men suppress their animal anxiety for women, and their emotional and intellectual fear of them, they will only manifest it in being distant and/or passive aggressive. Women are more articulate than men, and it is something we fear. Don’t take advantage of that, ladies. Women are very flexible in their gender roles, and we aren’t, and this causes us anxiety. Men who are willing to try and bend with the woman only dissatisfy her need to feel like their is a boundary somewhere. If this is sounding chauvinistic, please keep in mind that I’m talking about role play here, not religious duty. Gender anything, no matter how we divide it, is just role play.

There is something about Capitalism and the West that makes men wusses. And America is the land of the Wusses. Sorry, I include myself in that, to some degree. We are raised by women, and our fathers are weak figures. We are still trying to please Mommy when we should be tangoing, emotionally, with our lovers. We are well intentioned, but still afraid of the lonely dark.

There is no such thing as a nice man. There are only men who are behaving nicely. But all men sit atop a wild, hairy beast, that comes out at certain times. And for every man it is a different timing.

All men are cheaters, some just don’t get around to it as often as others. And some have thoughts contrary to cheating.

All men are afraid of losing their masculinity to a woman, some are amused by it, and some are beaters and homophobes.
It helps to keep in mind that we are spirits experiencing the feedback of an animal body.
And, then there is the Alpha Male stuff…
Please pardon my blanket statements and outright over-generalizations… hey, gotta make a point somehow.

I can spew a mighty sentence or two about this, but just as soon as I do, I begin to shoot it all full of holes, with no help from anyone else. But hey, you’ve got to start somewhere.
I hope my little rant is appreciated in some small way. I would write more, but one of my gal-pals has a crisis, and I need to go help her ’cause her ex didn’t pay child support…. 🙂 (Just kidding)

– Chad May (nice guy Version 2.1)

Jealousy is the most frivolous emotion. Most emotions have a purpose, or they are part of some responsibility to act and learn; they are connected to consequence. Jealousy, on the other hand, is purely for fun, if you don’t panic from its powerful grip. Jealousy needs no action, no knowledge gained. You can experience it – its power, and know that nothing bad will happen if you do nothing but try to experience it. You can feel it so intensely that your body seems to burst, but be assured that it doesn’t mean that anything is wrong. In fact, everything could be very right, despite its uncomfortable presence.
If you can learn to stop panicing at its grip, at its rush in your blood, then you will have triumphed over the most powerful of all our animalistic emotions.

When I was a (sick) vegetarian, I was very sensitive to Kundalini energy. But, being a pasty, sickly, frail fliver of a man as I was, rare would be the woman wanting to have a piece of that. So to say. So, what to do with that energy? I mean, besides the obvious?
Great horny-toads Batman, write about it! And in the summer of 1993, I often went to a dance club where I would really get wound-up. I could feel this intoxicating energy flow like a reverse waterfall up my spine, and spiral out my head and limbs.
And then there was kissing Amy. We were both stoned, and I think that was the most inspiration for what follows:

Caduceus kissing,
Reptilian twisting,
Tongues upon themselves turning round.
Heavy breathing, kundalini seathing,
Up your spine spiralling down.
Self control lost,
Individuality the cost,
Lovers synchronistically found.

Chaos in kissing,
Tongues barely missing,
Circling and stopping, I lick your lips,
Teasing… taunting… in random dips.
If this keeps going,
By darkness’s end,
Will we have merged,
Or simply sinned?

– Chad May

I see reptiles. In humans. Or, like a celluloid overlay of a reptilian form, super-imposed in my minds eye over/in the image I have of certain people.

There, I said it.

I also have an uncanny ability to spot pedophiles. Could these two abilities be related?

And I also see peoples’ past lives. Or, what seem to be their past lives. That gets into the idea that all existences are essentially simultaneous, but can be experienced “chronologically”.

I suppose this would best be explained if I were to start at the beginning, in a sort of “how it came to be” fashion.

So, I was 18 when I had my first past life recall. This seems to have made me more sensitive to the whole imagery in my mind of these sorts of surreal things.

About 6 months after my first past life recall, I was going to see Phyllis Molleen with my sweetheart, Lyn, when I had my first experience of seeing someone else’s past life. I was walking up Phyllis’s sidewalk, and in front of me walked a peculiar man, short in stature. I said hello to him, or somehow acknowledged his presence. And in that instant, I “saw” an image in my mind’s eye, like an overlay, of him as a small, large-eyed, bulb-headed alien. You know, the popular image of aliens (or what may easily be only one type). I was astounded. I had not seen many things in this visual way. And, then, to see such a sight, and wonder where the sense of knowing about it’s origin emanates. I was so shocked, that I just blurted out to him, “I just saw your past life, and you were one of those grey aliens.” He looked at me, rather unemotionally, and simply said, “oh, yes, I know. I’ve had many lifetimes on other planets.” Now, Phyllis had a very diverse clientele. I don’t care if he had been Sting, I still would have said what I said.

I thought a lot about the imagery, and what it felt like to have it, in the coming months. That kind of seeing things in my mind’s eye happened more and more, like a muscle becoming stronger through exercise. At first, I was just happy to use this new found toy. I didn’t really think about ignoring anything I perceived. Hey, it was all very interesting.

Then, there came the day I spotted a pedophile, in my mind’s eye, so to say. It was a politician, of sorts. Upon meeting him, I had this funny feeling/image of him. And, later found out about some trouble he had gotten into overseas, in Asia, with very young boys paid for homosexual favors. And then something clicked in my head, and I began to “see” pedophiles. On at least 5 different occasions, I have had my suspicions confirmed, either by the person or someone they tried to seduce.

And then one day, I happened to meet a woman suffering from schizophrenia. Among many of her beliefs, was one that a group of reptilian humanoids followed her around, and experimented upon her cruelly. You know, if you made me bet money on whether or not she had any accuracy, despite her mental illness, I would bet that she really was being bugged by some sort of reptilian bunch of baddies. Can’t someone be driven to insanity, if they experience something as bizarre as what she was claiming? How sane would any of us sound, if we were actually being used as guinea pigs by some alligator-like humanoids with a cruel sense of humor (as she reported).
While she was speaking to me, I had a flash where I saw her as a reptile-like humanoid form, and she was with a group of her own kind, traveling about, victimizing other people. It seemed as if she was reaping something she formally sowed. Oh, she is a whole ‘nuther story. But, I did see her in a past life, but as a non-human form. A “reptoid” if you will.

I have seen so many different past lives in people… I could write for hours about it. Some human, some not, and some I don’t know what the hell. But the reptilians are the most interesting to me. Some seem to be reptilian in their genetics. And some seem to be reptilian in their soul. And some seem to be both.

Now, this may just be some sort of visual cue that leads me to “visualize” people as such. I can and have thought of many normal theories to explain it. But, I must say, that my image of someone as being “reptilian” does serve a useful purpose.

When I see someone as a “reptile”, it seems to be a very accurate indicator that this person will be more egocentric and / or selfish than the average person. They are the antithesis of you common “Bubba” or more native type of individual. Incidentally, I *almost* never see an African (black) reptile. It seems to really favor us whiteys.

I can and will write more observations I have on this, but that will come later.

– Chad