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After going out of body (astral projection) Randall Lender suddenly found himself in such a paradox where the surrealism meets dilemma. Within this phenomenon of Looking Through the Hour Glass he unfortunately after leaving his physical body ended up into another's. This was his paradox. This was his ...
After going out of body (astral projection) Randall Lender suddenly found himself in such a paradox where the surrealism meets dilemma. Within this phenomenon of Looking Through the Hour Glass he unfortunately after leaving his physical body ended up into another's. This was his paradox. This was his dilemma. This was his surrealism. And regrettably for Lender this was the real quantum problem.
Randall Lender found himself on an unexpected journey with its twists and turns until he realizes that he must die to live for his return to his former body.
And now the elixir of questions remains: What? How? And Why?
Then you'll ask why me? Why him? And What If?
At two o'clock a.m., in the Masonic minded city of Washington D.C., in a very quiet and secluded elite restaurant of old American décor wrapped with dark stained paneled oak along with rich leather on which to lounge, a discrete meeting was being held by six distinguished men. And they were alone. Only the restaurant workers remained at a specified distance from their curious ears. The ambiance of burning fear could be felt by all but one.
First of the distinguished: the Guilder, who was seated among his constituents, the priest, minister, rabbi, and mullah.
Now most would ask that same old question: who are the Guilders? Some people might thrive on conspiracy stories while others would just call such stories lunacies of the third kind, but many ongoing meetings are conducted between individuals and groups for their own personal power far from the eyes of the media and general public. To deny such an event would be to live the life of an ostrich.
Three groups had been formed for one common interest-obtaining and holding onto money and power. In the early twentieth century, the first group, the Advisors of Foreign Affairs, was founded. The Advisors were composed of an elite group of bankers, industrialists, and royals. After the "Great War," the Advisors of Foreign Affairs strategically influenced the creation of international organizations like the League and later the United Nations. This group's members also influenced the collapse of federal banking in the United States in the early 1900's, thus establishing the private enterprise called the reserve. After the second Great War, the Guilders were formed for a new unification and strategically transformed the board of economical control from a chessboard to a game of Risk. Much later, the Three Pointed Commission was created to oversee the eastern (Asia) strategy. A Google search will show that the members of all three groups are one and the same. Hierarchically, the Guilders are the top rung on this ladder of power.
The Guilders have been quite strategic in their use of misinformation. Like the Nazis, they have been using the same misguided and grotesque propaganda of old Europe like Protocols of Zion, Mein Kampf and other Jewish blood libel to confirm conspirator enthusiasts' hatred of Jews so they could cloud and divert people from who was really in control, or rather more correctly, who was trying to control the earth-namely, the Guilders.
The Guilders have successfully used phrases and names like Illuminati and Freemasons as collaborators with the Jews aka Zionists in their elaborate use of smoke and mirrors to divert attention as they create their own new world order. As the Guilders use the same old lies of hate as the Nazis to steal money and power, the world remains blind to its fate.
The Guilders have also formed alliances with organized religions. They aligned with the Catholic Church for help in dealing with the Soviet problem; in return, the Vatican was given power over Latin America. Later, the Evangelist and other Christian churches made their own pacts since they had a common goal-control and power. Similarly, the Islamic mosques and Jewish synagogues formed their alliances with the Guilders for the same common interests.
I, Randall Lender, became their problem when I started exposing their lies and deceit, as if I had opened Pandora's Box, and the world started taking notice. The Guilders knew I had to be dealt with, but how? That was the reason for this secret meeting.
The priest suddenly lashed out, "Hey, didn't we pay you enough? I thought we paid you to get rid of that son of a bitch, but the bastard's still alive?"
A jolly, portly, bald, and yet clean-shaven man, who was indeed debonair, stood before his five distinguished colleagues, remaining quiet while grinning cunningly. He patiently stood with his white southern, wide brim hat upon his head, resembling something of a Dixieland Santa Claus. Calmly folding his hands, and with a gleam in his eye, he rubbed his hands together like a sculptor of old Europe molding his or her vision into clay. A startling, unusual, cool hue of light seemed to pulsate around him. And yet still well composed, he remained standing with his cool grin carved upon his round face. This peculiar hairless man of etiquette was dressed suavely in a well-groomed satin powder-blue suit along with meticulously clean white shoes that complemented his southern wide brim hat. He continued his poised stand with his hands snuggly clenched, and yet suddenly, our well-mannered man gently tilted up his white brim as if he were greeting someone. Then with an abrupt snarling gleam, he stared down upon all who were present. His audience remained in a trance of awe while his mesmerizing deep-set green eyes literally pierced fear into everyone's heart.
The mystical man began his hypnotic, echoing explanation, "Listen, you stupid priest! When McKenzie is put to death, I will surely destroy the very opportunity for Lender's soul to enter another's body. And then Lender's soul will be without a body. He will be in a spiritual purgatory. Lender's soul will then be nothing more than a lost soul ... A wandering soul with nowhere to go. His lost soul ... His spirit will be lost ... Lost forever ... And thus my dear friends...." He smiled with a sigh as he continued, "And thus we will finally be rid of the fucking bastard. So my dear friend of the Guilders, I hope you at least have a brain to understand our plan. And I hope you are aware of my strategy, because your dear friends-the priest, the rabbi, the mullah, and the minister ..." The bald man abruptly stopped his lecture and pondered to himself. His grin began to widen from ear to ear. His smile evolved into a sputtering chuckle and then into the laughter of a shrilling hyena. His wicked laughter was so excruciating that it could cut a diamond. Then he added, "Sounds like a bad joke ... We've got a priest, a minister, a rabbi, and a mullah." He laughed again before his jester gradually self subsided. Then again in his riveting voice he declared, "Listen, for I am! I am a WARRIOR of the DARK. And I will certainly succeed! And Lender's soul will be lost. Lost forever! And you fools, he's your enemy and as well as mine. You and I are of the same. We are of the DARK. For you all manipulate with the elements of fear and guilt to get what you want, but I-I create! I am the manifestation of fear and guilt. I create these illusions. And as the DARK, we must subdue any element of the LIGHT that might manifest and affect our interests. Thus, it is imperative that Lender's spirit be lost. For if he enters as a walk-in spirit, Lender will continue to create havoc for all of us in another's body. And I hope all of you now understand that. So when McKenzie dies, Lender's soul will be released, and I will be there to make sure ... I will be there to make sure Lender's spirit is lost ... Lost forever!"
"Ha!!! Ha! Haaaaa!!!" His laughter echoed and reverberated across the room with its quivering shrill, shattering glass and splintering windows.
Those present felt the very evilness in the shrill of the bald man's declaration as they swallowed whatever lumps happened to be lodged in their throats. In their unified fear, the priest, minister, rabbi and even the mullah quickly grabbed the nearest glass of amber or crimson to numb the reality within the room.
The sinister warlock gracefully removed his hat from his head and opened it toward the gentlemen in the most gracious Southern manner as if simply greeting them. Then a sudden fog of white vapor emerged and whirled forth from within the hat's opening. The warlock smiled while his audience was paralyzed, a fear painted on their pathetic faces from viewing his evolving nebula. The nebula began to thicken and thicken until it engulfed the entire restaurant like mace, making visibility all but impossible. The restaurant door mysteriously blew open, and the fog slowly dissipated, crawling out and leaving the restaurant in a fickle.
The fog was now gone, but so was the dark warlock, leaving the Guilder, the priest, the minister, the rabbi, and the mullah looking at one another in total bewilderment and yet noticeably frightened.
"I guess he knows what he's doing," the clean-shaven silver haired Guilder mumbled with a timid crackling in his voice.
And with a sudden quiet feeling of dark coldness running through their veins, the men quietly left the premises without a word.
Just a Hollywood Night
It was a cold damp Saturday night ... the kind of night to make snot run out of your nose. It was a December night on the damp sinful streets of Hollywood where every possible type of person and situation existed. And every kind of human creature had been out in Hollywood on this particular night, but now, all the parties had ended, and all the creatures had crawled back to their little nest holes.
Floating debris rolled like tumbleweeds across the boulevard or glided like traveling spirits across the damp breathing street.
It was four o'clock in the morning, and all was now so quiet in Hollywood, but ...
"Damn, I'm hungry!" a portly cop blurted out to his partner while cruising in their black and white down Hollywood Boulevard. After passing the Chinese Theatre, the cop glanced at the enormous donut towering on the roof of a donut shop and not surprisingly asked, "Hey, let's stop here for some donuts. Okay, Joe?"
"Damn it, Jim; you're always hungry," his tall thin partner snapped back. "You know, if you keep eating all that crap, you're going to get so fucking fat that not even a jar of Vaseline and a crowbar will get your fat ass out of this car. Hell, we'll probably have to get the claws of life just to pry your skanky ass out."
Jim smiled and then pulled a quick "U-ie," screeching the tires as they pulled up to the donut shop.
While Jim was ordering a dozen donuts and coffee, Joe discreetly strolled toward the adjacent alley.
The alley's ambiance was indeed film noir with its cascading moonlight illuminating the pools of sparkling urine that gave that special sweet effervescence that perfumed the alley. And there was nothing like the sweet smell of piss in the morning ... Man oh man, simply sweet ...
As Joe entered the alley, he noticed the streetlight was broken, but the full moon provided a searchlight.
Sitting back in the patrol car, Jim began slamming down his donuts and coffee while Joe, standing in the alley, grinned with relief as he unzipped his pants and yanked out his penis as a figure approached and knelt before him. He closed his eyes and then opened them with an apparent satisfaction. Joe moaned while looking down, "Ummm ... Oh yeah ... That feels so good ..."
Jim still was sitting behind the wheel of their black and white and gorging himself with his sweet ambrosia. He was definitely in high heaven. Jim had one remaining donut left when suddenly the dispatch radio blurted out that they were immediately needed. Jim, not expecting the sudden call, burped up some morsels of donuts, which flew and sprayed like buckshot against the windshield and dashboard. Quickly and yet diligently, Jim wiped the donut buckshot from the window and dashboard while attentively listening to the instructions on the radio.
Jim then picked up the microphone and gave his acknowledging response, "This is Adam 54 ... We're on our way!" Jim burped again while trying to brush off the remaining donut crumbs that were now scattered all over his uniform. With chucks of donut stuck to his mouth and teeth, Jim yelled out the window, "Hey Joe! We've to get the fuck on the road!"
With a satisfying smile painted on his face, Joe gazed down at the prostitute while she continued to play "Beethoven" on his pink piccolo. Joe's face suddenly turned a deep crimson red as he clenched his eyes and then moaned, "Oh baby, that feels so good ... Ummm ..."
Joe opened his eyes and commanded, "Faster ... Oh yeah ... Like that ... I'm ... Oh yes ..." He clenched his eyes again and suddenly blurted out, "I'm ... I'm ... I'm ..." And then he sighed.
While the prostitute wiped the remaining drops of Joe's mayo from her lips, Joe gratefully replied, "Thanks! Here's your twenty." He quickly zipped up his pants.
Jim shouted again, "Come on, Joe! Let's go! We have to get going."
"I'm coming! I'm coming!" Joe hollered back while running toward the patrol car.
Jim chuckled to himself, "I thought you already came."
After Joe jumped into the car, he asked, "So?"
Jim swerved the black and white, screeching the tires on the damp pavement to head back onto the boulevard.
Joe flipped on the siren and then asked again, "So?"
Jim coolly replied, "Well, there's been a mur ..."
Soaring like an Eagle ...
It was time for me.
Time, space ... According to Einstein, it's all relative. Some Quantum Physicists say that time and space is all in one's perspective. Some say when you're looking at our present plane, the matter side, time is linear and space is curved yet appears to be three dimensional while through the black hole on the other side, anti-matter, space is one dimensional while time is multi-dimensional. So when you dream, it is the antimatter side you are experiencing; hence you're familiarity of deja vu.
I often pondered these aspects in relation to when one's soul leaves one's body, and many times, I contemplated the possibility of leaving my body to discover the spiritual universe. So being a novice of this phenomenon and having the curiosity of a cat, I adventurously decided once again to embark into the other side, known by the Quantum dudes as the anti-matter side or by the mystics and shamans as the spirit world. Despite the potential peril and contrary to the advice of a mentor and good friend, I proceeded without hesitation upon my newfound adventure.
It was a crisp and yet quiet afternoon in my study when I made the attempt. My office was located in the west part of Las Vegas in an area, which for me was just a mirage of the reality surrounding it, called Summerlin. Summerlin was Las Vegas' carrot for those rabbits who thought financial success meant happiness. And such was the mirage-we all know there is no way to happiness; happiness is the way. Damn. I just quoted Buddha.
My study was attached to my office, which also had a reception area in the front. The entire office space was a collage of East and Southeast Asian décor-Thai, Korean, Chinese, and Japanese.
I pressed a button on my phone next to my "Mac," and an intern replied through the speaker, "Yes, Mr. Lender?"
"Adela, please hold my calls. I wish to rest for the next couple of hours. Also please clear my schedule for the remainder of day."
"Yes, Mr. Lender ..."
"Adela, one more thing."
"Yes, Mr. Lender ..."
"Please call me Randy ... I hate formalities."
"Of course, Mr. I mean Randy ..."
"Thanks ..." I pushed a button, cutting the line.
In the middle of my study was a fluffy white couch with Chinese embroidery sculptured in off-white with tigers, bamboo, mountains, and rivers reflective of Chinese art. My couch was so comfortable that when you laid on it, you would have certainly thought you were on "Cloud 9." My desk of rich cherry wood, designed in the manner of a Japanese Tea House, was set very low while your feet and legs fell within the cut-out reverted wall through the floor like a canal below the desk. In other words, my desk was actually a table where I could enjoy the delights of sushi or other Japanese cuisine to enhance my endeavors. The immediate environment helped to give me the casual ambiance to develop various projects. And my projects were always spiritually motivated-perhaps given the linear time, I will discuss them later. Now, not to get off on a tangent, but there were, of course, pillows and half-like chairs to support your lower back. Along the walls and tables were brilliant Korean and Thai sculptures and paintings. The most imperative element though was the deep feeling that overwhelmed you when you entered my office. A definite hyperbole of calmness marked my study. Some wondered how I could possibly get any work done here because of its heightened state of relaxation as if you were at the beach, hearing the waves and enjoying the gentle soothing breeze. But as matter of fact, I did accomplish and complete a multitude of projects within these walls.
It was now time for my next project-leaving my body.
Knowing what sounds I would like for my newfound exploration, I picked up a disc, placed it into my stereo, turned up the volume, and removed my shoes. Then while lying upon my comfortable couch, I listened to the gentle strumming of Tibetan Bowls with its unique humming, pinging, vibrating tones transforming my surroundings into a very relaxing ambiance. Each strum projected an exquisite and unique tone. The strumming was in a selected rhythm that maintained a special flow of harmonics heard not only by my ears but felt by my body and soul. The Tibetan Bowls were indeed healing while providing very soothing listening. Within a matter of seconds, I fell into an opiate-like state while my mind remained quite clear and focused.
Excerpted from Spirit by ANDREW FEDER Copyright © 2010 by Andrew Feder. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Posted August 8, 2010
Randall Lender is a man who has it all. And one with some very special talents to go along with it. But will those talents lead him down the path to salvation or disaster?
As he lies down, as if to nap, Randall projects... projects away from his life, away for his body... but instead of taking a trip through astral space, he wakes up in the body of another, and the other is the body of a murderer, Johnny McKenzie.
Now, someone as wealth and as well known as Randall Lender shouldn't have any problem convincing everyone that somehow, someway, something has gone horribly wrong.... but would you believe a murderer, tried and set for execution, if they told you some story about a soul swap? No? Now you understand Randall's problem. Will he find a way to astral project back? Is his body still there? Or has the order already pre-programmed his destruction? In the body of a murderer, Randall will have to call on his attorney and daughter to believe the unbelievable.
Spirit by Andrew Feder is a magical, mysterious ride into the realm of what if. The clock is ticking and only time will tell if Randall can find a way to purge himself from the Johnny's body. Then things start happening around him. Lives change, and there's no explanation other than this person, this murderer is someone special. Someone more. And then ultimate battle begins. If Randall is going to preserve his life, he will find himself warring with the Dark, good versus evil, and if he wants to survive, he's going to have to find a way to win. He's a warrior for the Light and only if he can defeat the warrior of the Dark will he be free.
Spirit is an engrossing read that I found hard to put down. There are twists and turns, and while this isn't my usual read, there's isn't any way not to become involved in Randall's struggle. You being to want to fight along with him, hoping that, while the body is that of the murderer, Johnny McKenzie, the mind and the spirit is that of another, Randall Lender. You even know that the man is a murderer, there's no doubt, but it is the murderer's spirit who is the responsible party, and has somehow been replaced by another. If you enjoy a good fantasy read with a battle between the ultimate good versus the absolute evil, then pick up Spirit by Andrew Feder, I don't think you'll be disappointed.
Posted April 5, 2010
Spirit, by Andrew Feder, is a short but appropriate title for this intriguing and mesmerizing novel. Most of us have heard of "near death" experiences where the soul leaves the body, sees its human form from above and then reenters the body, returning to the world of the living. Well, in this exciting story, we are going to meet Randall Lender, who deliberately leaves his body; it is his latest project that starts out well but has an unwelcome happening. His soul ends up in the body of an accused murderer-an assassin-named Johnny McKenzie aka Johnny M. At the same time, it is reported that the infamous Randall Lender is in a deep coma.
There are many shocking surprises before the storyline reaches its powerful conclusion. I am convinced that those who purchase this book will want to read other works by this author. He is an excellent writer and very skilled with background description and effective dialog. I recommend Spirit as a "must read."
Posted March 19, 2010
Randall Lender was a marked man. Once a very rich businessman, he had lost all his wealth and in the process found himself. Now, his philosophies of love, peace, and connection were starting to annoy a lot of very powerful people. Randall has no idea what he's up against and that his soul could be in jeopardy.
One day after practicing astral projection, Randall finds himself in another body. The body is that of Johnny McKenzie, a mob hit man. Moreover, Johnny (or rather Randall stuck in Johnny's body) is found with a dead woman, recently murdered by Johnny. Before long, Randall finds himself in prison awaiting trial and a potential death sentence.
Who is going to believe that there's been a mix up and Randall is in the wrong body? It sounds like a poor attempt to plead guilty by reason of insanity. What's more, perhaps there's more to this situation than meets the eye.
Spirit is a fascinating journey into spirit and the possibilities. The story asks the important question what makes us ourselves. Are we merely flesh and bone or is there something else? I don't want to give away too much but I love the twists near the end of the book. Very fitting.