Rhymes with Sewage, Part 3: I’m Starting to Regress
[In Part 2, I told you about my adventures at the 2004 New Living Expo. I had a Kirlian photograph made, but it (and my $50) was being held hostage at one of the vendor booths.]
I wandered around the newage fair for the rest of the day. There were panels on UFOs and ghosts and aligning your chakras and astral projection and just about anything else you could imagine. Likewise, there were vendors selling stuff on all of those topics, and gobs more. How could I not be entertained?
I remember the presentation given by the woman and her angel advisor. Both were on stage. Allegedly. The woman stood just a little bit to the right of center stage, so her angel advisor could stand next to her. As the presentation went on, the woman would sometimes stop talking and look a little bit to the side (as if she’s listening, you see), and then she would tell us what her angel just said. I’d never been to a lecture by an angel before.
There were lots of alleged psychics at the fair, of course. All of them were offering psychic readings, for a fee. A few of them offered short free readings, in the hope that you would then plunk down $20 to hear more.
Well, heck, if they want me to have it for free, I wouldn’t want to insult them by not taking it, would I? I’m ever so polite, you see.
There weren’t many free readings, but I managed to find two. One was some sort of assembly-line gang-reading being done by a Berkeley psychic school. They had 10 or 12 chairs lined up in two rows, facing each other. One row was occupied by “psychics”. The other row by suckers patrons. There was a short line, so I got into it. All you had to do was wait your turn. Then when one of the chairs opened up, you’d sit down in front of the “reader” and get psychically violated.
I sat down in front of a spacy-looking karma-dharma-spouter. I was determined to be as poker-faced as possible, just to mess with her. Since this was a cold reading, I figured she’d be trying to read my face. I was wrong.
She said she had to go into a trance, so she closed her eyes for the entire reading. I didn’t think I was that hideous. I don’t remember much of what she said. She was mostly firing blanks. You know, lady. Cold reading can make you a lot of money. You should learn it.
I continued my wanderings, hoping to find, among other things, a much better cold reading. I found one at the other side of the hall.
It was a tiny booth off in the corner. It was probably cheaper there. The woman stood alone in her booth, watching people milling past. I saw the sign for the free psychic reading, so I stopped and inquired. She told me that she offered a free five-minute reading, so I took her up on the offer.
I sat down in front of her. She asked if I wanted a love-life assessment or a past-life regression. Since I didn’t want to be responsible for her dying of laughter, I chose the latter.
She stared into my eyes (See?! Some people are able to do it without retching!). She told me that my soul goes back. Way back! Way, way back! To the time of the Pharaohs! (No way!)
She sees me. I’m standing there next to the Pharaoh! That’s it! She tells me that I am a high-level advisor to the Pharaohs!
Makes you want to treat me with a bit more respect, doesn’t it?
She’s right! I can see it now, too! Yes! I am there! I can hear myself talking to the Pharaoh, advising him. I hear myself saying:
Look, Ramses. Letting Moses and the Jews go was a huge mistake. You’d better send your army out to retrieve them. Trust me. What could possibly go wrong?
[Tomorrow: The end (of the day) is nigh! It’s time to storm the castle and rescue my Kirlian photograph! (and my $50)]
June 2nd, 2010 at 7:55 am
Why is it always a Pharaoh?! Is everybody alive on Earth now a higher up in ancient Egypt?
Anyway, I want to know who I was in around 50,000 BC. Was the hairy ape-lady I was knocking boots with hot?
P.S.: CAPTCHA fail – If I enter it wrong and hit ‘back’ my comment is gone!
June 2nd, 2010 at 8:08 am
Yow! That’s not good. Let me look into that.
June 2nd, 2010 at 8:13 am
You can criticize those bastards for the hard sell, but fuck it, what do you think you’re doing with that $50 credit card slip and Kirlian polaroid! Aaaaaargh! I want to know! The suspense is killing me!
June 2nd, 2010 at 3:00 pm
At least this cliffhanger report series got me to call it newage, as in sewage. Thank you.
June 2nd, 2010 at 5:45 pm
Yes, I had never heard the newage/sewage pronunciation either. I like it.
Hmmm…I was able to hit back after getting it wrong and my comment was still there
June 8th, 2010 at 1:50 pm
When I was a teenager I read a book on palmistry, and actually had a lot of success guessing stuff about people. I realized right away that I could tell a lot about the person’s personality by the way they extended their hand to me and the way their hand felt.
“You love Cheetos and are still searching for that special someone in your life.” I’d throw in a little past life stuff, too. Telling someone they were a Bogomil charcoal burner or an Olmec woman who died in childbirth seemed to give me a lot more cred that the usual Biblical/Egyptian references.