Dwellers on The Threshold: Voices through Static

EVP (Electronic Voice Phenomenon) are electronic voices that appear in conjecture with radio broadcasts, recordings, transmissions, and white noise.  These voices are created by the butchering and cannibalization of various recordings and then reconfigured in such ways that they are believed to be attempts at communication with the receiver of the messages by some unknown entity or force.  These voices have no traceable origin and seem to appear at random intervals of length in communication.  The voices often seem to home in on those using radio equipment as a communication device and have been known to answer in cryptic fashions to radio operator’s questions. Theories about where the voices originate range from coincidence, alien contact, ghostly contact, or potentially even other dimensions.  While considered by today’s standards as a pseudoscience, the study of EVP was once a serious phenomenon that was studied as an emerging result of the growing use of radio and television in the early to mid-20^th century.  While the story below the links involves my first experience with EVP and will mainly discuss this, you should take the time to check out the links below and learn a little bit as I will not be relaying some nimrod story about bumbling around an abandoned house with a tape recorder asking spirits redundant and pointless questions about how it’s like being dead and stuck in a shitty limbo while being bothered by the living.

For more information on EVP, check out the following links. 

Friedrich Jürgenson: Considered the first pioneer of the study and understanding of EVP

Dr. Konstantīns Raudive: Parapsychologist and the father of the modern study of EVP

The Ghost Orchid: An Introduction to EVP: A fantastic CD that explains the history of and offered several samples of EVP.  I even own a copy myself.

Overview of EVP: For those who are unaware, EVP wasn’t originally a phenomenon that half-wit ghost hunters on television discovered with crappy tape recorders.  There actually is a bit of science behind it. 

It was the loud screaming of an unfamiliar woman’s voice through the speaker in the police scanner that violently awoke me from my sleep.  Stirring awake in a bit of confusion, but mostly irritation, I quickly realized I had dozed off in the remarkably comfortable rocking chair on my front porch while listening into the lives of people I had never met, and from some of the conversations I’ve overheard, I’d probably never would want to meet. As I stretched a bit, I turned my attention to the police scanner and began my search again for another interesting glimps into a nearby neighbor's life, the conversation with the screaming woman involving her torrent love triangle between her husband and lesbian lover had settled into sobbing, and even I knew that it was best to turn the channel.  I thought for a moment that I heard something cutting through the static of one of the channels as they scanner passed through several channels. A voice it seemed was building in the background white noise and I waited with a sort of reserved anticipation, but nothing conjured and I passed it off as nothing else but a weak signal that failed to reach.  Sometimes when the signals become entangled through the transistors, conversations and music from distant locations fight and meld into a strange ambiance that I cannot help but to feel is being somehow controlled by some unforeseen force.  At times, I’m reminded of my childhood with my grandfather and a strange event that some would consider paranormal.

On cool, fall evenings with the dimming, twilight sun barely illuminating the seemingly endless corn fields of my grandfather’s farm I would listen along with my grandfather to his police scanner and CB radio while he spoke about bits and pieces of his youth.  I never realized at the time as he went about the stories how the conversations and voices coming through the police scanner seemed to form a sort of strangely constructed soundtrack that, now that I think about it, became an unsettling background score for a man unfolding bits and pieces of his life to a child that, at the time, did not fully grasp the weight of the words.  Every so often, whenever a specific message would come through the CB radio, my grandfather would pause from his story and speak into the CB, and, after receiving some muffled confirmation, would continue on with whatever exciting point we were on in one of his past misadventures.  One has to wonder why a farmer out on the countryside would need these tools to communicate to truckers and vagrants of the highways.  Perhaps it was some strange network of human connection for those without a home that my grandfather provided.  Maybe he was running a bootlegging operation.  Hell, maybe it was something that I should best leave to the confines of the past.  I suppose the men who keep such secrets probably knew it was best to keep them to their grave.  To this day, I’ve never found an answer.

It was during one of these evenings with my grandfather that I had my first experience with EVP.  As usual, my grandfather and I found ourselves on the front porch of his home listening to the CB while my grandmother brought us out bowls of her special chicken and dumplings.  The crisp, fall air brought about the lovely scents of distant things that I can only describe as pure nostalgia, but for a kid it meant the aroma of warm chicken and the faint smell of a camel cigarette slowly burning between my grandfather’s fingers.   The perfection of that moment has now been outlined with some unspeakable ominous highlight that I all but now can recognize with each replay of it in my mind.  The CB radio, with a distant voice of a trucker asking for directions, was scrambled by a voice that I can only describe as ethereal and familiar.  I remember my grandfather becoming rigid as this female voice began to sing in strange lyrical tones that seemed almost an amalgam of various songs sewn together with only the voice remaining the same.  I cannot remember the words of the voice, but my grandfather intently held onto each of them I know because he spoke each of them silently as I watched on.  He scrambled to pick up the microphone and held it wordlessly to his lips as the lyrical voice stopped.  As he lowered it for a moment with a blank expression on his face, the voice returned and spoke again in the lyrical tone, and I could have sworn I heard the name “Julian” within the song.    

The significance of this being the fact it was my grandfather’s name.  My grandfather kept repeating a name through the microphone with muddled urgency. “Claire?  Claire…Claire?”  His voice repeated until it became an almost inaudible whisper.   Abruptly, my grandfather stood up and nearly ripped off the power switch off the CB radio as he mumbled to himself angrily.  He turned to me and with a look of absolute fatigue asked me to go inside.  “But who was that grandpa?  Who’s Claire?”  I asked as I slinked to the door.  He looked up to me before I entered into the house and mumbled “She passed away a long time ago”.  I could tell from his voice that I was not to tread any further with questions.   I never told my grandmother or anyone else about that night, simply because I knew even then what had happened was nothing that could quite be explained, only described in the often obscured lines and shades of words that will never hold the appropriate weight of the event’s significance.  Years later, long after my grandfather had passed away and those wonderful Fall evenings had become only memories, I still have the CB radio and police scanner he used, in which I might add still work perfectly. 

On nights when my hermitic nature takes over, I find myself sitting alone on my porch listening to the CB radio and scanner in an attempt to find any myriad of fascinating glimpses into others' lives through the speaker. This usually goes on for several hours of the evening and morning until the liquor or wine that I bring out with me has been emptied, and my body has become rigid from the rocking chair I usually occupy.  I still wait until the last weight of the day’s events bring my eyelids to a close, clinging to some strange and hesitant hope that one day I’ll hear a familiar voice from my past through the speaker, singing those familiar lyrical tones that haunted my grandfather that one night when I was a child.

The Obscure of the World 1: Sokushinbutsu (Self-Mummified Buddhist Priests)

One of the greatest testaments to how far humans are willing to go for personal enlightenment comes from a small prefecture in the northern section of Japan called Yamagata.  The testaments in question are the self-mummified Buddhist priest of Yamagata known as the Sokushinbutsu.  

 Kind of peaceful looking for a mummy

 Though who exactly were the Sukushinbutsu and how did these Buddhist priest ever manage such a feat as self-mummification?  Well, look no farther as I’m here to explain that and much more. 

  Not creepy in the slightest....

The Sukushinbutsu were, as mentioned above, Buddhist monks whom studied a syncretic, Buddhic religion known as Shugendo in which combined esoteric Buddhism, old Shinto beliefs, animism, and even Taoism.  If you want to know more about Shugendo, check out this site here for more information. 

 Enno Gyōja:  The Father of Shugendo

Though, the Sukushinbutsu differed themselves from the typical Shugendo follower through one extreme practice of reaching enlightenment, the practice of self-mummification.  The priests that pursued the path to Sukushinbutsu were believed to be able to obtain the status of a Buddha as well as ultimate enlightenment through the physically and mentally tormenting process that lasted nearly ten years.  In the end if was believed that the priest's incorporeal bodies would be ultimately detached from the illusions of life itself and become venerated.   How does one then begin the journey of enlightenment via self-mummification?   The answer is far from simple.

The priest for 1,000 days would maintain a special diet consisting of eating only nuts and seeds along with a regiment of rigorous physical exercise that would nearly strip their bodies of fat.  Just to stress the fact of how difficult this would have been, remember that 1,000 days is a little less than three years.   

 and I get sick of eating the same type of cereal for more than a week....

After the first 1,000 days, the priest would change their diet to one that consisted of eating bark and roots of various trees and plants for another 1,000 days.  The only liquid nourishment outside of water the priest would be allowed was Urushi tea, a poisonous tea made from the sap of the Urushi tree.  The sap traditionally was used for creating lacquer for bowls and furniture.  The resulting diet would effectively cause the body’s flesh to become poisonous to any animals or insects that may attempt to eat the priest’s remains as well as to the microbes that cause decay.  However, this tea would cause the priest to suffer bouts of vomiting and other unpleasant physical issues.  During this time as well the priest undergoing this would experience hallucinations and other psychological anomalies due to the body’s continued deterioration by the poison and malnutrition.

 and they say weight watchers is a tough program...

Finally, the priest would be moved to a small, stone tomb large enough to house the priest while in the lotus position (a position in Buddhism believed to help in meditation).  An air tube along with a bell would be attached to the priest so that he could ring the bell to alert other priests to him being alive.

Hopefully none of them were claustrophobic.

Once the jingling of the bell stopped, the air tub was removed and the tomb completely sealed for another 1,000 days.  Upon the last day, the other priests would open the tomb to see if the mummification was complete.  

 adorned in relics

Two things may have happened upon opening the tomb.  Most often the only thing within the tomb would be a decomposing body that quickly rotted away.  While these priests failed to reach self-mummification and instant status as a Buddha, they were revered for their stalwart attempt and honored.  However, out of the hundreds that attempted to become Sukushinbutsu, it is estimated that only 16 to 28 actual Sukushinbutsus exist to this day.

As one could imagine, this strange and obscure feat by the Sukushinbutsu priests become a testament to the lengths in which these seekers of enlightenment would go for their beliefs.  Comparatively to some of the more destructive beliefs of other religions around the world, one can admire the display of willpower these individuals exhibited for their beliefs in which are strictly self-inflicted. 

Not for the weary.

While the practice was banned in Japan in the 19^th century, there have been cases of priests attempting the practice up into the 20^th century.  The majority of the bodies of those priests successful in becoming Sukushinbutsus are located in a temple on a mountain called Yudono in the Yamagata prefecture. 

Scientist believe that the arsenic levels within a natural spring beside the temple would have aided in the success of the priest attempting self-mummification as the high levels of arsenic were able to kill and ward off any microscopic organisms that may have otherwise feasted on the monk’s flesh.   Currently, none of the sects of Buddhism in Japan actively practice self-mummification.  Debates on whether the practice of Sukushinbutsu was indeed suicide or instead an acceptable practice to enlightenment have been and still are in debate amongst the different sects of Buddhism to this day

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Childhood Horror Gem (What Movies Spooked You As A Child?)

While meandering about through Greenville a few weeks ago on one of my rare free days, I found myself perusing through the movie section of a local record store.  Most of the films were bizarre and their titles equally matched in their absurdity (Alien Zombie Killers, The Werewolf & The Yeti, Critters, Snuff, etc) and sadly I have to say that most of them all ready have a home on my dvd shelf.  Though it was when I finally made it to the "Just Released" section that I stumbled upon a lost relic of my childhood nightmares.  The title in question: "Dark Night Of The Scarecrow"

Creepier than stumbling upon your parents' "special" toys

There are few things that get under my skin.  In fact, I've made it a pastime to see nearly every banned, explotative, sadistic, nauseous rendering film out there that I can get my hands on (I've sat through Salo: 120 Days of Sodom without missing a bite of my food for a moment, in which several people I know wouldn't be so capable of doing), not really for the bragging rights but more so simply out of good ol' curiosity.  Why then would a movie such as "Dark Night Of The Scarecrow" disturb me so to the point of childhood flashbacks of hiding under my sheets and praying to whatever would protect me against such a relatively unfrightening thing as a goofy looking scarecrow?  Well, let me offer a brief synopsis of this delightfully frightening piece of cinema.

"Dark Night Of The Scarecrow" was a made-for-tv-movie directed by Frank De Felitta (who wrote oddly enough "Audrey Rose") that premiered in 1981.  The setting of the movie is a stereotypical farm town in what seems to be the South.  The story follows one Charles Elliot "Bubba" Ritter, a mentally challenged bear of a man with the mind and soul of a child, whom befriends a young girl by the name of Marylee.

  Marylee and Bubba

Bubba finds himself the target of harassment of a group of men in the small town led by the drunkard postman Otis (played by Charles Durning).  

 A disheveled postman with a tinge of good ol' small town ignorance

While walking home one day with Marylee, Bubba is convinced in helping her sneak into a neighbor's backyard, which subsequently gets the poor girl attacked by a guard dog.  While Bubba saves the girl, the townsfolk believe that it was actually Bubba who attacked her.  Otis and three other prominent men of the town take off to hunt down the innocent Bubba, who has by this point escaped with the help of his mother by hiding and disguising himself as a scarecrow in a local wheat field. 

Bubba and his Mother

By this point, you'll feel pretty crappy for poor Bubba

In short, Bubba is eventually caught and killed via a four men firing squad while strapped to a cross used in supporting a typical scarecrow in a field.  The vigilante group frames Bubba's corpse in such a way that the local judge believes that the group had to defend themselves against a crazed Bubba.  In ominous fashion Bubba's mother warns the four men that "There's other justice in this world, What you sow, so shall you reap...". 

This scarecrow gives me the screaming meemies

Soon the four men begin to see an eerily similar scarecrow that Bubba was dressed up as when he died popping up around their homes and farms.  As you may have guessed, the men begin to get picked off one by one in pretty brutal fashion, until Otis is left as the final victim of the mysterious scarecrow's wrath.

Man+Woodchipper=You Guessed It: Human Salsa

Buried to death by pig feed....Irony?

The most frightening thing about this film isn't the gore (in which there hardly is any save some blood here and there) or the manner in which Otis and the other men die.  In fact, the true terror honestly lies in the fact that the scarecrow itself has become this unbound spirit of vengeance born from the death of a gentle, mentally handicap man.  While the supernatural origins of the scarecrow are never explained (nor really important), the scarecrow proves to be an effective vessel for bringing justice for one (spoiler: two) innocent lives by the end of the film.  A fantastic point of the scarecrow is the fact how often you dont see the scarecrow on camera.  In spine tingling fashion, each of the four vigilantes never have a chance to see their assailent in the act of hunting them down, but only as the empty husk of a typical field scarecrow.

 An avenging specter without a physical body to stop

  The young Marylee helps to intensity the fright in the film through the fact that she both communicates with and helps the scarecrow (Bubba's) search for vengeance throughout the film.  Close examination of Otis brings the audience to wonder how depraved the character truly is, with subtle hints of sexual deviance and stark prejudice against those he deem "unfit" for the town.  By the close of the film, you will undoubtaly find yourself rooting for Otis' death.   The last few minutes from this 30 year old flick still gives me chills when I think about it.  It was a pleasure to finally be able to buy the movie on dvd.

Merciless Eyes Of Vengeance

So in the end, I managed to find a rare gem of horror that I remember (semi)fondly as a child watching for the first time with my father on one of his rare nights at home before retiring in my teens.  Now that you've (more than likely) sat through and read my rant, I now pose a question to you.  What movies frightened you as a child?  Any specific ones that you look back on and cringe a bit about to this day?  Comment below and let me know.  Its all about sharing the fear and such. Mu ha ha!

What in the hell is this for anyways?

As the title suggest, this is sort of a brief explanation as to what this blog will be about.  Since I'm first and foremost horribly out of practice writing wise, I'll be using this as sort of a metaphysical forge for my writing, posting mainly short stories, particular quips about an odd moment of the day, and dreams as well.  A (close if not tied for first) second point of this blog will be posting about the current movie I'm working on along with two close friends of mine entitled "Bone To The Dog".  I wont be posting specific updates about the film, but more so musing about the story and interesting points of the overall thing.  For those interested in keeping up with the actual process of the film and what we're doing every week on set, go to http://www.bonetothedog.com/ for all of the details.  Third and lastly, I'll be posting about obscure things that interest me (movie reviews, paranormal phenomena, music, interesting works of art, books, etc).  I assure you that most of it will be macabre in nature, a bit spooky, and maybe even a bit romantic at times.  So, we'll see where it goes from here.