Following are some interesting excerpts
from the book : Remote Viewers: The Secret History of America's
Psychic Spies, 1997 by Jim Schnabel, Dell, ISBN 0-440-22306-7
The names Richard Kennett, Peter Crane,
Mike Russo and Don Kurtis which appear below are pseudonyms employed
by Mr. Schnabel. Acting on gut instinct and an educated guess, we
did some additional research (cf: "CIA-Initiated Remote Viewing
Program at Stanford Research Institute" by Dr. Hal Puthoff,
SSE's Journal, Vol. 10, No. 1, p. 72) and were able to confirm to
our satisfaction that the primary subject of these excerpts -- the
mysterious and elusive "Richard Kennett" -- is none other
than our Aviarian friend Blue Jay, Dr. Christopher "Kit"
Green, MD, Ph.D; Chief, Biomedical Sciences Department, General Motors,
former head of the CIA's UFO files at the "Weird Desk."
To guard against any conceivable interpretive
dissonance, our Martian Brethren have advised us to colour
the name "Kennett" green to insure that our readers do not
forget that Dr. Green is the one being referred to via the pseudonym
"Richard Kennett." We thought it was a pretty cool idea
too. And in case there is any doubt, though we may disagree with much
of what goes on in the halls of the building where Dr. Green used
to show up for work, we nevertheless maintain a high degreeø
of respect for him and salute his courage here in breaking free of
the narrow-minded and antiquated constraints of Club Science©
to present us with these intriguing and vastly insightful interstitially-aware
perspectives.
Couple all this with the fact that there
remains, in our carefully considered opinion, little difference between
the occult exploits of today's military/intelligence community
for the short-sighted purpose of gaining military superiority and
the previous workings of the English scholar Dr. John Dee -- a mathematician,
cartographer, astronomer, astrologer and espionage agent of Queen
Elizabeth I, ca. 1582-1589, who conducted a series of ritual communications
with a set of discarnate entities which eventually came to be known
as the Enochian angels -- who intended to advance the expansionist
policies of his sovereign Queen, hoping to control the hostile potentates
of Europe by commanding the tutelary spirits of it's various nations.
Then as now, it appears quite evident that there is an immense albeit
tactically camouflaged war in process where the forces of light struggle
"not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against
the powers, against the world forces of this darkness, against the
spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places."
Back in 1982 or 1983, Richard Kennett
at the CIA had been asked to consult with the Army on its involvement
with the Monroe Institute. Kennett had declined any involvement, citing
concerns over the "human use" implications. He believed
that by promoting altered states, one made the brain more unstable,
more prone to spontaneous hallucinations and delusions. He could see
no reason at all why the Army should be involved with Monroe, and
could see many reasons why it should not.
One of Kennett's reasons, though unstated
in his comments to the Army, was that he had once had his own OBE,
using some tips he had picked up from one of Bob Monroe's books.
He had felt himself separating from his prone, sleeping form, like
a crab molting from its old shell. Then he was free. He walked across
the room -- but now there were other beings in the room. There were
monsters. Some kind of goblin hobbled up, put its nose right
in his face, stared at him. Jesus! Kennett went back over to his bed,
and tried to get back inside his body. He wasn't sure he could do
it. The goblin --
Kennett made it back all right, but
he would recommend, to anyone who asked, that out-of-body experiences
be avoided like the plague. He suspected that the effects on the emotions,
and on the nervous system in general, could result in heart attacks,
psychological trauma, and even psychotic breaks in people who were
already unstable.
[Compare this analysis with the remarks
of Kenneth Grant in the chapter entitled "Dream Control by
Sex Magick" from his 1973 book Aleister Crowley and the Hidden
God: "It has been remarked by various of Crowley's critics that
the women who did qualify for the role [of "shamanic" seer
via highly specific orgastic/tantric physical and aetheric manipulations]
almost always ended their term of office in Colney Hatch, or some
similar institution. This may be true, but it is not a valid criticism
of Crowley's methods for what is not considered is that a special
kind of temperament is required to establish contact with the dream
state while still awake. Western women who possess the required traits
are rare, and as they have not the hereditary advantage of initiation
into occult techniques -- as have certain African and Oriental women
-- the sudden impact of magical energy on their personalities tends
to disturb their sanity. Such women therefore easily astralize; it
was their lack of proper preparation that resulted in ultimate lunacy."
-B:.B:.]
Kit Green (l), Pat Price (c), Hal Puthoff
(r)
One day, May 29 to be precise, Puthoff
was sufficiently impressed with the coordinate experiments that he
placed a call to CIA head- quarters, to the office of Richard Kennett.
Kennett was in his early thirties, with
a wife and two young sons, and a house in the Virginia suburbs. He
looked somewhat like the tennis player Jimmy Connors, though he and
Connors didn't have much else in common. Within a decade, Kennett
would be the assistant National Intelligence Officer [the NIO was
the intelligence community's top analyst in a given subject, chairing
interagency panels and writing annual reports on the subject] for
chemical and biological warfare issues.
Here in the spring of 1973, Kennett
was still only a few years into his CIA career, and served as an analyst
in the Agency's Office of Scientific Intelligence. He had a Ph.D.
in neuro-physiology, was soon to complete his M.D., and spent much
of his time preparing top-secret evaluations of the health of various
foreign heads of state.
Kennett was a man of eclectic interests.
The free world's greatest spy organization often attracted his type.
Ordinary science, like ordinary life, all too often left him bored;
he seemed more at home confronting the wild extremes of human behavior.
Religion and mysticism in particular fascinated him. Appropriately,
then, he spent some of his CIA time monitoring the fringes of medicine
and psychology, watching trends, attending conferences, visiting laboratories,
looking for things that, though unconventional, might be useful to
one side or another in the great game of the Cold War. One of the
areas he kept an eye on was parapsychology, in particular the goings-on
at SRI.
One day in the lab, several members
of the Livermore [LLNL] group were monitoring [Uri] Geller
during a metal-bending session. They recorded him with audiotape,
filmed him with videotape, and photographed him with a variety of
still cameras, including one that was sensitive to thermal infrared
radiation.
After the experiment they developed
all the film and saw something very strange. The infrared camera had
caught what seemed to be two diffuse patches of radiation on the upper
part of one of the laboratory walls. It was as if someone had briefly
shone two large heat sources, either from inside the lab or outside
pointing in. The patches grew in intensity for a few frames, then
over the next few frames diminished to nothing.
The Livermore Group were understandably
puzzled over this, but it was only the beginning of the strangeness
that would soon consume them. When they checked the audiotape they
had made during the experiment, they found amid everything else a
distinctive, metallic- sounding voice, unheard during the actual experiment
but now clearly audible, if mostly unintelligible. All they could
make out were a few apparently random words strung together.
If Geller could be believed, things
like this had happened before. According to one story, on several
occasions when his friend Andrija Puharich had put him under hypnosis,
audiotapes of the sessions had recorded similar strange voices. Another
time, at a meeting with some Mossad officers, someone's tape
recorder had suddenly seemed to start playing by itself, in full view
of everyone.
In any case, Peter Crane and some of
the others in the Livermore group quickly found themselves involved
in more strangeness than they could handle. In the days and weeks
that followed, they began to feel that they were collectively possessed
by some kind of tormenting, teasing, hallucination-inducing spirit.
They all would be in a laboratory together, setting up some experiment,
or one of the fellows and his wife and children would be at home,
just sitting around, when suddenly there in the middle of the room
would be a weird, hovering, almost comically stereotypical image
of a flying saucer. It was always about eight inches across, in
a gray, fuzzy monochrome, as if it were some kind of hologram. The
thematic connection with Geller was obvious, when one remembered that
Geller claimed to be controlled by a giant computerized flying saucer
named Spectra.
[cf. this somewhat similar event
witnessed by Terrence McKenna: On the advice of a local contact, he
sat down one day to watch a portion of the sky where, reportedly,
a UFO might appear. After awhile, he noticed a strange, thin, horizontal
cloud forming near the horizon. The cloud grew in length, then divided
in two. The parts separated some distance, then moved back together
again. Then the cloud appeared to move slowly toward him. McKenna
wanted to rush to the nearby hut and wake his sleeping friends to
come and see, but he was afraid to take his eyes off the moving cloud
-- so he sat staring as it moved closer. Before long, he says, it
was directly overhead, now clearly a flying saucer and so close he
could see rivets in the metal. There was just one thing wrong. "I
recognized this thing," he says. "It looked like the end
cap of a Hoover vacuum cleaner, exactly the same fake saucer as in
George Adamski's photos. This thing flew right over my head, and it
was as phoney as a three dollar bill. I knew it was a fake."
-B:.B:.]
On the other hand, the flying saucer
wasn't the only form the Livermore visions took. There were sometimes
animals -- fantastic animals from the ecstatic lore of shamans --
such as the large raven-like birds that were seen traipsing through
the yards of several members of the group. One of them appeared briefly
to a physicist named Mike Russo and his terrified wife. The two were
lying around one morning when suddenly there was this giant bird staring
at them from the foot of their bed.
After a few weeks of this, Russo and
some of the others began seriously to wonder if they were losing their
sanity. Peter Crane decided to call for help. He picked up the phone
and called Richard Kennett.
Kennett had visited Livermore previously,
in his capacity as a CIA analyst, to ask Crane and the others about
their results with Geller. He had remained close-mouthed about the
CIA's own psi research, but that had been expected. As far
as Crane was concerned, Kennett was their best hope for a private,
quiet solution to the problem. He had parapsychological experience,
biomedical training, and high-level security access-an extremely rare
set of qualifications.
On a Saturday morning not long thereafter,
at the end of an otherwise unrelated trip to the San Francisco Bay
Area, Kennett drove over and met with Crane in a coffee shop in the
town of Livermore. Crane set out the situation for him, and soon Kennett
was having long meetings with Russo and the others. They perspired,
trembled, and even wept openly as they related some of the things
that had happened to them. It was as if their world had collapsed
around them. Nothing made sense anymore.
Kennett knew that if he took any of
these stories to a regular psychiatrist, the diagnosis would be some
kind of dissociative, hallucinatory, or otherwise delusional experience.
Even when two or three people claimed to have shared a vision, it
would almost certainly be dismissed as folie a deux, or folie a trois.
Such terms were used to refer to rare group hallucinations, when one
hallucinating or delusional individual had such a dominant personality
that others came to believe they had seen or experienced the same
thing.
Kennett didn't rule out such explanations,
but he seemed fairly convinced that something else less pat and conventional
was going on. For one thing, Crane, Russo, and the others had no history
of involvement in the occult, and as far as Kennett could tell, their
emotional situations immediately prior to these visionary experiences
hadn't been particularly stressful or otherwise hallucinogenic. Moreover,
they all had top-secret security clearances, which had required among
other things that they be screened for psychological disorders.
Then there was the very strange business
of the metallic voice on the audiotape. Among the few intelligible
words it pronounced were two or three together which Kennett recognized
as the code name of a very closely held government project. The project
had nothing to do with psychic research, and neither it nor its code
name was known to Crane or Russo or the others at Livermore. It was
as if whoever or whatever had produced the code name on the tape had
known that Kennett would soon arrive on the scene and had saved this
special shiver down the spine just for him.
Kennett, going by the book, reported
the code name incident to the security people at the CIA, muting the
outlandish details only slightly. The security people filed it away,
and wondered if Dr. Kennett might be getting a little too close to
his subject matter.
The situation at Livermore eventually
resolved itself, after Russo complained about a telephone call from
the strange metallic voice. The voice demanded that the Livermore
group cease its research activities with Geller. The group did, and
within a month, the bizarre apparitions faded away.
One of the last such apparitions sprang
itself upon a Livermore physicist named Don Curtis and his wife. They
were sitting in their living room one evening, soberly, uneventfully,
not talking about Geller or the paranormal, when suddenly there was
this...arm ...hovering holographically in the middle of the room.
The arm was clothed as if it belonged
to a man wearing a plain gray suit. There was no bloody stump where
it should have connected with a shoulder. It merely faded into clear
space. But at the end of the arm where a hand should have been, there
was no hand, only a hook. The hooked arm twisted around for a few
seconds in front of Curtis and his wife, and then disappeared.
Curtis related the story to Kennett,
and for some reason, it seemed to push the CIA officer over the edge.
He telephoned Hal Puthoff and Russell Targ and demanded that they
meet with him on their next trip to Washington. He didn't quite believe
that they could have cooked all of this up, using their SRI lasers
to make haunted-house holograms. But he suspected that with their
own ample experiences of Geller and his associated phenomena, they
would be able to shed some light on what was happening.
Within a few days, Puthoff and Targ
arrived in Washington for a scheduled fund-raising tour of government
offices. Kennett met them shortly after they had arrived at their
hotel, and though it was close to midnight, he sat them down and told
them the whole story, including the story of the floating arm.
"And so the goddamn arm --"
said Kennett, winding up his story. "The thing was rotating,
with this gray suit on, and it had a hook on it. It was a false arm.
What do you think of that?"
And as Kennett pronounced the word that,
there was a sharp, heavy pounding on the door to the hotel room, as
if someone were intending to knock it down. Kennett had a mischievous
streak. Was he playing some kind of practical joke here? Puthoff and
Targ didn't think so. The pounding was so loud, it was frightening.
After a moment, Targ went over to the window and hid behind the curtains.
Puthoff stood inside the bathroom. Kennett went over to the door and
opened it.
Standing in the doorway was a man who
at first glance was remarkable only by his unremarkableness. He was
nondescript and unthreatening, somewhere in middle age. He walked
past Kennett very slowly, with a stiff gait, to the middle of the
room, between the two beds. He turned around, and said in an oddly
stilted voice, "Oh! I guess...I must...be...in...the wrong...room."
And with that he walked out, slowly,
stiffly, giving all of them time to see that one sleeve of his gray
suit, pinned to his side, was empty.
