Gamers Beware!

I have no doubt that video games are fun—I do not play them, but have no objection to others enjoying them as long as they’re safe. Most are probably safe, but there are some games that have become too easy for game developers to insert negative material in them. Regular use of these invisible programmed games bypass the brain and go directly to the subconscious.

For what it’s worth,  here’s my take on brains and minds: The brain is only a computer—it does not think; the subconscious mind is its operating system, able to make use of every idea, thought, image, sound, etc., that goes in there, and stays. I like to say we may have dream folders just like folders on our computer desktop, where like material is stored. Dream of a car? It goes to the Car folder, and next time we dream of a car, the car folder opens and we’re able to see all the other car dreams we’ve had. Dream of a monster? Into the Monster folder it goes, and when we open that, we see all the other monsters stored there, all the way from childhood. (This may lead to nightmares!)

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Please bear with me.

News has come out that the young man who killed Conservative fire brand, Charlie Kirk, was deeply into video games on Discord, a gamers platform on Facebook. I’ve wondered if he also played other video games, specifically VR (Virtual Reality), played with a headset. There’s a lot of information online about the possible dangers of VR. What dangers you ask? This: It’s too easy for game developers to program subliminal messages into those games. (I recommend reading the book “Subliminal Seduction,” if you can find a copy.)

Below are some links to articles worth reading before you submit your brain and mind to well-known programming techniques possibly created by unscrupulous individuals, or even one of our country’s foreign enemies. Repetition is how we learn any subject from preschool through college. Repeat the lessons enough times and we’re unlikely to forget them, at least consciously.

I’ve experimented a lot with self-hypnosis, with some interesting results. Repetition is how I self-programmed myself to stop smoking after thirty years of lighting up. Repetition is also how one of my children stopped bedwetting. In both instances, I recorded our voices with an almost imperceptible background of the music of a classical composer (slow and deep sounds, but I no longer remember which composer that was), and played those tapes on repeat every night while dropping off to sleep—when our subconscious is easier to access. The positive message for my child was “My bed stays dry all night!” After a few nights of programming their subconscious, that bed indeed stayed dry, with no further accidents. (I’m also recalling Patty Hearst and how she was programmed for criminal activities).

VR has the ability to rewire the brain and enhance neural connections that are needed for learning and memory. VR can turn your sense of reality inside out.

https://arinsider.co/2022/11/25/the-science-behind-the-vr-headset-that-can-kill-you-in-real-life/ 

https://www.reddit.com/r/virtualreality/comments/1733r9v/why_do_most_people_who_buy_a_vr_headset_stop/

Psychological Effects Of Virtual Reality

https://www.google.com/search?q=virtual+reality+games+and+seizures&sca_esv=588836865&ei=MChyZZKVKd6fptQP9I6HSA&oq=virtual+reality+games+and+&gs_lp=Egxnd3Mtd2l6LXNlcnAiGnZpcnR1YWwgcmVhbGl0eSBnYW1lcyBhbmQgKgIIADIFEAAYgAQyBRAAGIAEMgYQABgWGB4yBhAAGBYYHjIGEAAYFhgeMgYQABgWGB4yBhAAGBYYHjIGEAAYFhgeMgYQABgWGB4yBhAAGBYYHkieggFQ3CFYwS9wAHgCkAEAmAGBAaABvAOqAQM0LjG4AQHIAQD4AQHCAgQQABhHwgIKEAAYgAQYigUYQ8ICCxAAGIAEGIoFGJEC4gMEGAAgQYgGAZAGCA&sclient=gws-wiz-serp

Put down the game and pick up a book! 

Namaste!

HOW TO TAKE CONTROL OF YOUR MIND

The current state of our country demands that I speak my piece. Please read carefully and understand what I'm saying.

Some things may seem to be out of our control, but what we CAN control is our reaction to them. A defeatist attitude only makes a situation worse. So try not to roll over in defeat. Acknowledge the shock you received, cry for a while if you must, then pick yourself up and put on your thinking cap. Try to find solutions for your problems. Imagine in your mind's eye what it is you want more than anything, and keep that mental picture there. Do the best you can, and you may be surprised to find golden opportunities falling into your life.

This may take a while, but keep at it. Don't listen to the naysayers. Live the way you want to live in your mind, because everything begins there. This is a universal law that works. Make pictures in your mind of what you want and keep them there!

"Whatever the mind of man can see and believe can be achieved." - Napoleon Hill, author of "Think and Grow Rich" https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Napoleon_Hill

If it's money you want and need, try the "Universal Law of Increasing Returns." This law says: Whatever we give to help others always returns to us tenfold. This is the biblical law of tithing. It's also called "The Law of the Harvest" -- Plant a seed, reap a bushel.

So here's what to do. Give what you can spare (even if it's only a dollar or less) to a worthy cause, then forget about it. Your donation will come back to you either as money or something else that you need (food? housing?) $1 = $10. And when it comes back, donate a portion of that and watch it return. Try it; it works. It has to, because it's a universal law. I've used it many times myself.

When I first learned about this, I decided to test it to see if it really works. I wrote a check for $5 and addressed an envelope to a charity. After inserting the check and stamping the envelope, I laid it aside to go into the next mail. Shortly after doing that, my hubby came home from work and handed me $50, from a bonus he'd received at work that he didn't know he was getting. Needless to say, I mailed that check the first thing the next day!

That's not the only time it worked, and I've proven it many times.

I'm not overly religious (more spiritual minded), but while the Bible says to give a tenth of what we have to help others, it doesn't say how it's coming back. But it's a fact that we must give in order to receive. You can prove this for yourself.

If you want more details, pick up a copy of "Think and Grow Rich." And don't tell everyone what you're doing. They'll probably say it doesn't work, and if you hear that enough times and start to believe it, the "Law of Increasing Returns" may stop working for you. You could turn negative by dwelling on other people's negative words, so choose your thoughts carefully. If you constantly think poverty, that's what you're going to get.
A little story here. After a few years at his job, my husband began complaining that he wasn't getting the promotions or raises he thought he deserved. After I read that book, I gave him a copy for his birthday. He read it, and within a month he got his first promotion. He'd been using ideas and instructions from the book without telling me. His company began promoting him, and we moved five times in less than five years -- from supervisors to branch managers, moving to different states with four kids, dogs, and once with a one-inch goldfish named Jaws.  

But the fun didn't last. When his company began having financial problems, they decided to restructure and change the company name, and they weren't moving anyone. About that time, my spouse decided that the mind stuff did not work. It didn't take long to reverse his good luck, and he lost the job. He had proven that those laws worked . . . and how they stop working when you stop believing.

In closing, I hope everyone survives the current state of our country's economy that landed on us like a ton of bricks. That was terrible, to be sure. But we can help ourselves a lot if we just know how. I've shown you what works for me. What we give from the love and kindness of our hearts to help others always comes back, and our leaders who mislead our country have a LOT of karma coming to them.

Namaste!

OLD POETS NEVER DIE

Today I went through some boxes of miscellaneous items I had assumed was simply junk to throw away. But what I found was poetry I'd written through the years. Some were penned when I was in high school, and the rest later on after we began moving around. Stuff written when we moved to Cedar Rapids, IA, more poems I'd written in Omaha, NE, then Sioux City IA and Kalamazoo, MI. Lots and lots of fairly decent poetry, some I'd forgotten through the years. Some I'd submitted to magazines and newspapers, some actually accepted for publication in poetry journals, and also several one- & two-act plays I'd submitted to local playhouses (and letters from the directors).

I probably inherited this special talent from my dad's side of the family--my aunts on that side were poets and artists who painted with oils, whereas, I had never experimented with oils, but instead chose pencil, charcoal, oil pastels and watercolors.

So today I read through all those old poems and ended up wondering what would happen to them after I'm gone. I suspect they'll be dumped, because if nobody complimented me on all that work while I was alive, why would anyone suddenly care when I'm no longer here to enjoy a few words of praise for writing such a mountain of work . . . and that doesn't even include the enormous amount of research I did for several novels. I did not leave any stone unturned to find the information I needed to write a Great Depression historical novel and three Arctic novels (two for children, and one historical novel for young adults/grownups).

So I'm sitting here thinking, "What the hell? All that important work for nothing?" I even created my own cover art for most of those books, plus formatted, edited, and proofread them, then published all but one myself. (The first one was traditionally published.)

It's sad to think some of my family will just not give a shit how hard I worked and how much I taught myself about writing and publishing.

My dad would've been proud of me. His sisters (my aunts) would've been proud of me. And I'm proud of myself for what I accomplished. My paternal grandmother had been an artist whose comic strips were published in her local newspaper. I was delighted to discover a couple of those in a box of photos and other items I inherited from my ancestors.

Well, that's enough whining. People will do whatever they want. But I hope they'll know those words were written from my heart.

Have a great year, folks!

Namaste!

JUST A CRAPPY POEM

 

THE DAY MAMA WENT TO POT

It always starts on Monday.

Let me tell you what this means.

She’s really in a hurry.

Was it the sauerkraut or the beans?

She sets her mind in that direction,

knows it’s nothing or it’s all.

But the minute that decision’s made,

she hears the door close in the hall.

She stands in twisted torment,

and tears began to flow.

And by the time the bathroom’s empty,

she doesn’t have to go.

It’s like that every morning,

and if you’re good at math,

you can figure out that Thursday

is when grandpa takes his bath.

She hears the water running,

hears him splashing in the tub.

An hour or so goes by—

it isn’t long—but here’s the rub:

she hears her innards grumbling

and sweat begins to flow.

But when at last he’s finished,

she doesn’t have to go.

It won’t come out at noon,

and it won’t come out all day.

But she always has to go again

when the kids go out to play.

Now’s the chance to go ahead

and try to get it done.

She locks the door then suddenly

everybody’s on the run.

But she tenses up her muscles

while in her heart she knows

she’s really put it off too long.

Now it’s hard for her to go.

She sits in perfect misery

and listens to the roar

of every family member

as they try to budge the door.

She doesn’t know what makes them guess—

can they really read her mind?

They’ll be six houses down the road

when someone yells,

“Come on gang . . . it’s time!”

Now Mama’s getting nervous

and she begins to moan

as someone hollers through the door,

“You’re wanted on the phone!”

But as she lives and breathes,

there always comes a day

when she tries but really can’t—

the urge has gone away.

Will she have to take a physic

or maybe drink some juice?

It’ll take a stick of dynamite

to blast the critter loose!

~~~

Long after everyone

has slumbered off to sleep,

Mama gets up silently—

an appointment she must keep.

She tiptoes to the bathroom—

no one must ever know

that in the quiet of the night,

she thinks that she can go!

So she sits in queenly splendor

with a smile upon her face.

It’s only then she notices . . .

there’s not a piece of paper in the place!

 

By Bonnie Turner

Independence, Missouri, 1970