Brain Warp (part 1)

July 6th 1991 is a day that I did two things I’d never done before.
I saw my first, in the flesh, crop circle and I visited the town of Glastonbury and taking things back to the very ‘beginning’ it was all thanks to Terry Wogan.

Earlier that year Wogan had David Icke as his guest on the BBC’s prime time show, aptly named ‘Wogan’.
I never watched it myself but my mother did and she rang me later to exclaim that 'some bloke called David Icke was on Wogan, said he was the son of God’

I asked her who David Icke was and she said, ‘that he used to be a footballer, a goalie for Coventry City, did the snooker, was leader of the Green party and that he was ridiculed by the whole audience and it was all very embarrassing.’
I said, ‘a goalie for Coventry City? I’m not surprised.
Why would the son of God play for Coventry City?’

Suffice to say it had grabbed my interest. I knew the sacrilege of such a claim, having been brought up a Catholic, and I’ve heard many a shout of similar in railway station cafes and upper decks of buses, usually from someone sat right behind me, but to do it on live TV was reasonably new. If Icke was a Catholic he’d certainly condemned himself to an eternity of fire and brimstone accompanied by the sounds of a forever recurring Westlife discography.

I bought his book, ‘The Truth Vibrations’ and to be honest found it all a bit much. Icke sounded like a modern day Nostradamus albeit one bedecked in a turquoise shell suit. Many things he said in the book related to natural disasters that we would face unless we change our ways. The strange thing is that now, nearly twenty years later, Obama and the UN are saying the same things concerning climate change.

What I found most intriguing was his references to ‘Earth Energies’ and ‘Ley Lines’ and how these invisible channels of energy circle and crisscross the earth and that stone circles were apparently built at certain ‘node’ points and some of these energy centres are still alive and have a higher purpose particularly in places like Avebury and Glastonbury.

At the time Avebury was at the centre of world wide crop circle activity, still a hoax unclaimed or maybe not a hoax at all. Glastonbury was later referred to by Icke as the centre of the universe and that local landmark, Chalice Hill, was the actual Camelot of an actual King Arthur. I thought, ‘what, the centre of the universe is not only on Earth, but in England?’
‘Fancy that!’
I could even visit without the need for a very long journey involving sleep pods.

Once I'd finished the book I passed it on to my best mate Marcus who became instantly hooked, especially on the Earth energy stuff.

Later in July, six of us, three couples, booked a holiday together to a B&B in Newquay, Cornwall to do the usual holiday things, lounging on beaches drinking and going to pubs to sit in beer gardens and changing clothes at teatime to go to more pubs with good jukeboxes for the evening.
There would of course be the occasional diversion of crazy golf but in the past this has caused too many arguments and more than a tolerance of cheating which would lead to upgrading to the more sensible ‘pitch and putt’ which is a halfway house between what is officially called crazy golf and real golf which, when you think about it, is really crazy. People get so, so serious about which stick they use to hit a hard ping pong ball over 400 yards to get it in to a little hole. They have bobble hats for their clubs, ridiculous pants and golf carts (mobility vehicles with a roof). This madness is done in all weathers and by people with either too much time or too much money or both.
It’s a very unhealthy sport as so many players die of heart attacks whilst on the green. So many that I’m surprised that Health and Safety rules don’t insist on each course having it’s own medical centre.

This would have been our lazy, ideal vacation but it was July and it was the UK and so it rained. Constantly, heavily and every day.
The rainy days gave the industrious Marcus the idea to commandeer some wire coat hangers from the B&B bedroom wardrobe which he engineered into dowsing rods and the suggestion was made that we go and have a look at one of these ancient sites that are so abundant in Cornwall to see what these earth energies are all about.

We headed to the nearest one, the Nine Maidens stone row, just outside St Columb Major, parked our cars and without further ado tramped across the field. Marcus had the coat hangers in position, one in each hand pointing forwards like dual pistols and he began to walk determinedly and steadily towards the row.
As he went between the stones, the ‘rods’ both swung inwards 90 degrees towards each other and then swung out again when he’d crossed through. This brought different reactions from the rest of us. He himself laughed the sort of laugh one would make if a little fairy had just landed on your nose and tickled your nostril hairs.
Others made exclaiming ‘uh’ noises and I simply stared, trying to evaluate what had happened, my finger reaching for the none existent panic button. Ali, my wife, said, ‘give them to me, I’ll see if you’re bullshitting’ and so she repeated the short routine with the rods. Her reaction was amusing because the rods did exactly the same thing, she screamed and instinctively threw them ten feet away. I think by now, my hands were involuntarily placed on my cheeks spelling the body language of, ‘oh my God’.

It was my turn. I really thought that nothing would happen. I couldn’t see how it could and assumed that the moving rods were akin to the ‘OK, who pushed the glass?’ question often asked when playing with Ouija boards.
So, off I go and of course they did move exactly the same as they had for the other two. Indeed they did it for everybody, turning inwards when just entering the edge of this row and out again once across it, a distance that was no more than a metre.

There is something special, very special when something happens that you simply can’t explain and know nothing about. It really feels that you’ve scratched some surface, opened some box into the realms of Mulder and Scully. The first time and with ignorance as your companion the experience is pure and untainted. From that moment on every other dowsing adventure was accompanied by expectation and never again would feel as clean.............

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