Case no 0006 - Dr Who?

I have had an exchange of emails with my friend Russell, and also quite an agitated phone call. He sent me a video. He said it showed the face of Elizabethan mathematician/magican Dr John Dee in a can of paint.




For some reason the video played upside down on my computer so I couldn't see the face. There followed a phone call from Russell who had just come back from a school fete with Sachi and Mio - they visit events like this as prospective parents, to check whether the schools will be suitable for Mio. He said it was ridiculous that I couldn't see the face in the can of paint. He said that even Mio had looked at it and pointed and said, 'Face'. I said he should have taken the can of paint to the school fete and asked the other parents if they could see a face in it. I said he should have got irate if they said no.

He sent me another video.




I seemed to recognise the face so I posted this photo on Facebook hoping the face recognition software would suggest a name to tag it with, which it didn't. However, there was a thrilling development. My friend Serena said it looked like the fourth Dr Who, Tom Baker.



Conclusion: Evidence of time travel.

Units of Forgetfulness

You and I have been out and about a lot in recent days - you've been working, I've been going to parties - and nothing paranormal has happened. That, in itself, seems quite paranormal, unless you take the view that paranormal things only happen to people who stay in most of the time by themselves.

One thing that caught my eye last week was the report in the Guardian newspaper that West Midlands and Surrey police are offering a £1.5bn contract for private firms to investigate crime and detain suspects. Do you think we should tender for it? I would enjoy the investigation but I wouldn't enjoy detaining suspects. I imagine it would be a bit like having builders in the house - lots of cups of tea and coffee, and trips to Tesco up the road to buy them chocolate biscuits and muffins. Of course, builders are usually here by consent. What is the etiquette when detaining suspects? Presumably the promise of a blueberry muffin would not be enough to keep the suspects here if they didn't wish to be detained. I could lock them in the cellar. But actually I'd hate to keep someone here against their will. You know how I feel about animal rights. It would not be possible to speak out so vehemently against the imprisonment of animals in circuses and zoos while keeping suspects detained in the cellar on behalf of the West Midlands or Surrey police.

No sooner had I started writing this post, complaining that nothing paranormal had happened, than something occurred that was very mysterious (frightening, even). I went to make a bread-based snack to keep my spirits up, to help me finish writing the allocated 1000 words of my novel today. I found the bread easily enough, but I couldn't find any almond butter to put on it, even though I'd bought a jar of it the other day. It ought to have been in the 'dry goods' cupboard by the washing machine but it wasn't there. I looked in the fridge and found it in there, of all places, with the cellophane wrapper still intact. And yet I knew I had opened it and eaten some of the contents (very almondy, if you 're wondering how it tastes.) Weird! Self-healing cellophane! We could make a fortune... However, further investigation revealed a second jar of almond butter in the fridge. This one had been opened.

Remember when I thought I had bought a jar of almond butter, couldn't find it and went out and replaced it? Now I have two jars of almond butter. But why? What does it all mean? One possible explanation is that the original jar disappeared in some kind of 'Brigadoon' circumstances for 17 days, only to reappear this afternoon. Another is that the universe is calling out to me, telling me that there is plenty of paranormal activity, if only I look closely enough. Another explanation is that it's a sign of forgetfulness. I don't know how many jars of almond butter I would have to buy before calling in medical professionals, or even if such people measure forgetfulness in units of jars of almond butter.

I would like to do further research on units of forgetfulness. I think of the heyday of science as being the time when scientists were inventing new units of measurement, don't you? The kelvin, the watt, the pascal, the ampere, the ohm, the volt and the joule. I would like to give my name to a unit of forgetfulness, or to anything scientific and esoteric.

Case no 0004 - Dog Mind Meld

Our attention was drawn to a cold case from 1990 by our friend Mr. Terence Dackombe in the comments of a previous post:

Here are the facts of the case as explained by TD:

"Naturally I have been very impressed by your extensive record of solving mysteries. Thus I am awarding you a multi-million pound* contract to help me resolve a mystery that has troubled me for many years.

In 1990, I travelled, by car, with my then girlfriend and her dog to Worthing. We went for a stroll in the sea; I was wearing tracksuit bottoms and a t-shirt. I had my keys, including my car keys in the pocket of the tracksuit bottoms. The pocket was rather shallow and when I emerged from the water and we had sat down, I noticed my keys were no longer in my pocket.

I imagined all sorts of possibilities for the next step - train journey home, pick up spare keys, return to Worthing and so on.

However, I said I would re-trace my steps. My girlfriend said it was a forlorn hope as we had no idea where we had entered the sea or retracted from it. I walked in a straight line from where we were seated, walked out into the sea to about the height I imagined we had reached, looked down and picked up my keys which were lying on the sea bed, about four feet below.

We returned, triunphantly, to Berkshire, with no need for spare keys. Was this a simple piece of good fortune, or was there 'special forces' at work?

It was a warm June day; we had never been to Worthing before; no other party was involved; the dog was useless and just sat down looking bored.

*May be re-negotiated.

Terence Dackombe, February 2012"

Our initial response:

Mmmm, this is a very interesting case. I know we said we were 'not for hire' but personally I'd consider doing anything for a million pounds, even a headstand.

Key words here seem to be: straight line, keys, girlfriend, Berkshire, Worthing.

Other significant elements might be: warm day in June, tracksuit bottoms, dog.

I do think it important that you recall the dog 'was useless and just sat down looking bored.' In fact, dogs usually like retrieving things, and they are seldom bored, which is why they make such cheerful companions.

It seems strange that the dog didn't join in the 'game' of looking for the keys. Did it affect looking bored while actually using special powers to take control of your mind and direct you to the exact spot where the keys had been lost?

I need to confer with my colleague but I believe that special forces were at work - a kind of dog/man mind meld.

I would categorise this under 'paranormal'.

We are trying to establish SBI's reputation as we are newly-established, and so we will waive our fee for this one.

We got in touch with TD ('Sir Terence') via Twitter to make further enquiries about the dog. We felt that if it was his girlfriend's dog, it might have been jealous of him. The response was significant:



It transpires that the dog was a Jack Russell called Rambo. Jack Russells, as we know, are highly intelligent:



So, it was TD's birthday! Very interesting. Presumably Mary-Ann had been making a fuss of him that day.

Conclusion: The dog, Rambo, was jealous of TD and wanted to discredit him. Rambo used some kind of mind meld technique that day in Worthing. First, Rambo caused TD to lose the keys in the sea. Next, the dog propelled TD towards the sea in a straight line, like a remote controlled human toy, to retrieve them. The 'bored' appearance of the dog was due to intense concentration.

The straight line is important: humans rarely walk in a straight line; it would be more usual to use a frantic wiggle to cover as much ground as possible in the hunt for the keys. It emphasises TD's robotic, controlled state. Also, the dog couldn't resist making it clear that he knew exactly where the keys were, by sending TD directly to their location without deviation.

By using TD like a toy, Rambo was attempting to demonstrate his superiority to him to Mary-Ann. The dog's intention was to ruin the relationship.

Categorised as: Paranormal.

[n.b. pictures posted by a model.]

Auditory Hallucinations, Case number 0003

I will start with the facts, like a Poirot.

The first time it happened:
Location: Kyle's dads house
Time: late afternoon
Event: P&G and Kyle were there and one of his sisters. I had been working all day on the garden, and had eaten my usual breakfast and had a 'sub' from Subway some hours earlier. I was hot, tired and thirsty. All his family are discussing something towards the house and decided to escape and am at the bottom of the garden, weeding. I suddenly hear a voice, like a stage whisper (loud, but raspy) 'Lauren.. Lauren... Lauren!'. I froze, scanned with my eyes and checked where everyone else was. It felt malicious, as if someone was trying to make a fool of me. Do you remember the queue for the rides at Disney World? They put little speakers through out it to cheer us up, I suppose. I thought it might be a speaker hidden in the garden. The noise stopped, I unfroze. I went towards the where it came from and looked for a speaker. I found nothing. I told no-one.

The second time it happened:
Location: My garden
Time: probably late afternoon (it was light, but not morning, as I recall)
Event: I was in my garden this time. Many members of Kyle's family were in the flat, and I had come out to my shed for a moment. As I stood there admiring all my hard work, the beans, the peppers, the cacti I had smuggled back from Ibiza, I heard noises again. This time it was fervent garbled whispers, like a message, but I couldn't work out at all what was being said. At first I was just as petrified as before, but I knew I had to take courage and find the source of the noise. I could still hear it, a whisper, urgent and incomprehensible. I went further still and the noise stopped. After I looked around the see if it could be sound bouncing off the other houses, maybe kids etc. But it didn't seem to be. Later that evening I told you and Kyle - neither of you seemed worried. I was a little concerned I was going mad. I thought about Grammy, and the funny turn you had and thought 'is this the beginning?'.

The third time:
Location: Claudio's car.
Time: about 6pmish
Event: I was in Claudio's car with L&C and Kyle on the way to Cafe Brazil. All the family were talking over each other. I started to hear whistling. Tuneless whistling. Not a tune I knew, not very good whistling. I looked at every person, and each family members lips were moving, but none were pursed. I tried to work out the source of the noise. The radio was not on. I later asked about their mobile phone ring tones, it was not that either. I felt more amused this time. Less frightened. But I didn't mention it at the time. I later told it to Kyle, he said 'muh', although I felt stronger, like it's a perfectly normal thing to hear voices. Perhaps Kyle's lack of panic (read: 'interest') had brought on a sense of calm.

Investigation: I would like to investigate the voices. Are they real? Who are they? What are they saying?

Update:
Last night (yes, saturday) I watched 'Ghost Hunters' by myself, absolutely nothing happened in the show. Some nice beardy men came to the house (they could be truckers or cowboys, y'know, real American - they high-fived when they left the house), hung around and recorded things. Their main aim seemed to be to reassure the nice middle aged lady who lived there that everything was ok - the spirits weren't going to hurt her, but nor was she going mad. Anyway, I am going on a bit. At the conclusion they advised the lady to move her computer tower away from the fridge. The ghost hunter explained that because both have fans it can create a 'sound matrix' of white noise and our brains try to make sense of white noise which can lead to hearing voices. He gave the other example of when you think you can hear voices when vacuuming.
I like the idea that this is what is happening to me. The chitter-chatter of my extended family becomes some garbled white noise to me. My mind is unable to comprehend the viscous* banter of a large family and instead makes distracting voices appear.
Being an only child I did as I was told growing up. I still remember the day I was told not to interrupt others' talking or talk over other people - it was the same day I learnt to do a headstand.**

Conclusion: The voices are caused by a weakened physical state (i.e. being hungry) combined with a sensory overload (i.e. lots of Kyle's family talking (why doesn't it happen with the Welshies? Or at parties?)).
This is, at its base line level, similar to an ancient way of inducing hallucinations, depriving the body of fuel and then overloading the senses to create a 'trip'. Perhaps this is a way of connecting with some other realm. I just like the idea that family chatter is like white noise to me.

Extending the investigation: We can always try to induce this state to hear some more noises. For now I will be carrying my camera at all times to capture the noises if I hear them.

Love you enormously, can't wait to see you this afternoon xxx

The photo is a ghostly image we saw when we went to Forkbeard Fantasy's *** exhibition at Southbank. They are so clever.

* I know 'viscous' is not really an appropriate word, but I am looking for a word that describes the many layers, the constant-ness, and the impenetrability of another families discussions, and I quite liked this one. Other families banter has a thickness to it.

** I know what I am implying here, you know what I am implying here, we will leave it there.

*** no idea where to put the apostrophe there. Forkbeard Fantasies, Forkbeard Fantasys', let's call the whole thing Waterstones.

p.s. can you suggest some labels for this post? xxx