New paranormal activity test… Null results this time
Encouraged by the successful test I conducted with Piazzolla’s tango, a new idea popped in my mind: What if the tune I used to prove Goldstein’s identity behaves invariably as some sort of “magnetic pole” for my grandfather’s ghost? Can that melody leave the possibility open for contacting him whenever I want? Will it be effective to attract his presence again?
This last week I experimented with that song, playing it several hours a day. But the results were null. My grandfather’s voice did not appear. Not even once.
I guess my hypothesis was wrong, then. It seems that in our last contact he wasn’t just being pulled out from the beyond because of the tune, but instead he wanted to show himself off. Obviously, he still does his own will.
So, the questions now should be: Is there a reason for his spontaneous manifestations? Is he trying to tell me something meaningful? What?
Identity confirmed!
I’m euphoric. The identity test gave positive results: the voice that I’m hearing through the vintage radio is Samuel Goldstein’s, my grandfather. The simple test, designed by Angel Manoukian and described below, worked almost instantly and the confirmation opened a whole new dimension for me. The voice apparition is a true paranormal phenomena, it can’t be hoax (nor a practical joke) of any sort and, foremost, is my grandfather himself to whom I listen to.
The basic idea behind this experiment was to use Goldstein’s most beloved tune (a beautiful tango by Astor Piazzolla) as a bait. When he was alive, my grandfather had a crush for that song. He used to say that this melody worked like a mantra, helping him to clear his mind and hummed along to it constantly. Angel thought that this tune could be an invitation and should attract Goldstein’s presence. Although very plain, this ingenious “musical call” approach succeeded in its goals.
The testing phase began at 12:30 AM approx. I turned on my grandfather’s Spica and left it on the table. Then I set the computer to play Piazzolla’s theme in an infinite loop. Finally, I brought another device to record the audio of the test.
The tango ended and started again twice, with the simultaneous white noise as a curtain in the back of the delightful harmony. Then, when it started for the third time, I felt a cold hand in my shoulder. Nobody was there, of course. It was just a fleeting but very vivid sensation. And almost instantly after that a subtle humming appeared within the interference. It was an articulated hum, undoubtly humane yet ethereal… The voice followed the melody as if the ghostly crooner knew it already. I smiled. That was an intense moment indeed.
After a couple of seconds the hum disappeared. I kept listening carefully, as always, but without any new contact. One hour later I decided to pause the song. 15 minutes after that, when I was about to power off the Spica I heard a clear whisper:
“Matit”
Just one word. The most personal word for me… And I must explain this. My name is Matias, the Spanish equivalent of Matthew, which is the English version of the old Hebrew name Matityahu. Matit, its contracted hypocoristic form, was the affectionate nickname invented by my grandfather to address me. That single word was all the confirmation I needed. One single word that changed everything. And I mean it. Everything.
Another obnoxious week
My boss (or should I call him “my exploiter”?) might be one of the most vilest person in this country. His imposed 12 hour workday -without any time off, nor extra payment- is sucking away my strength. This horrendous agenda is far from decent and is pushing his employees to a ridiculous over the edge modern slavery. Anyway, that’s the reason why I had to interrupt my long EVP sessions. These last days were really awful.
Meanwhile, I started to play with Angel’s equipment, recording little bits of white noise, adjusting the parameters to get a clear recording. My plan is to test the voice’s identity this weekend. I’m sort of hopeful about these upcoming experiments. All I need is to get some sleep first…
EVPs finally returned
It happened around 1:30 AM. I was answering emails with the radio on when Balthazar, my cat, suddenly jumped over the table and started to meow relentlessly near the Spica. I left the computer and concentrated all my attention in the white noise. I even closed my eyes, trying to hear something below Balthazar’s fuss. For almost one minute nothing happened. But then, there it was again… I heard what I thought was a sibilant shush. I wasn’t sure what it was, at first. Because that sound was almost concealed within the white noise. The cat continued his crying although he seemed soothed by the whisper. And when a new exclamation blew in Balthazar stood still:
“Come”.
My cat’s big yellow eyes opened wide and stared manically at some spot just above the radio without even blinking. It seemed that he knew what to expect of such an apparition because he quieted down instantly. I walked towards the Spica and asked: “Who are you?”
His answer took half a minute of monotonous interference:
“Can’t you hear me?”
He, whoever it was, talked with an unearthly, paused tone: the voice sounded like being emitted through thick liquid or, maybe, emerging from the air itself. Balthazar curled up besides the device, when the entity added:
“You know me”
“Please. A proof… Please”, I said, “I need some sort of confirmation”. At that point, the white noise exasperated me like a swarm of wild mosquitoes. But I had no option but to listen carefully. And so I did for almost 45 minutes, when the voice made its last entrance with an exhausted laughter.
At least that’s what I think I heard. My cat slept beside the radio for the rest of the night.
Paused for awhile. Stopped forever?
I’ve been sick lately, thrown to bed for a couple of days by one of those pests that hangs arround in our modern cities: a common (not to say severe) cold. My bones are stilll aching… I’m very tired also, tired of all this nonsense, tired of tons of sleepless nights hearing the void, tired of the speculation and this weblog altogether.
While in bed I felt a presence floating around my room, specially by night, each time I began falling asleep. I’m seriously thinking about giving up this craziness.
Identity testing
Among other eerie sensations, I’m starting to feel disquiet about what’s happening. I hadn’t hear the voice again for almost 3 weeks now. And, worst of all, I don’t even know for sure that it was my grandfather the one who talked to me. The continuous white noise is driving me nuts… and I think I’m stuck in the middle of nowhere…
Yesterday evening, I talked on the phone with Angel Manoukian. His knowledge is so incredibly profound that I felt overwhelmed with my own abyssal ignorance. Samuel Goldstein’s comments and questionings always caused the same effect in me. And that made me realize how much I miss him.
Manoukian told me that I shouldn’t be so positive about who I listened to. At least not until we can carry out a test to confirm the entity’s identity. He will try to design the custom testing method to proof that and promised to call as soon as possible with a couple of ideas.
Meanwhile the Spica is still on…
Was it my grandfather?
I’ve been exchanging recently some information with the Unexplained Mysteries forum users. They were sincerely helpful and pointed me out some interesting stuff regarding EVP (Electronic Voice Phenomena) and ITC (Instrumental Transcommunication). One of them, justNormal, posted her prudent thoughts on this matter:
Hi again Matt, As I said, the more you listen and record, the more he will remain Earthbound. PLUS you cannot say with all surety it is your Grandfather. I have a feeling there is more to this, than meets the eye.
Well, that sure is a capital question: How can I tell the voice I heard through the radio was indeed my grandfather’s? The truth is that I can’t. At least not from an objective point of view. There are so many feelings involved in this… That post was very moving for me and made me realize the emotional situation I’m in. To conclude -without any proving fact- that Goldstein himself is the one that tries to communicate with me is way too arbitrary and might be risky at one point or another…
The path of the video
I’m not getting much progress with my last days EVP sessions: tons of hours filled with monotonous white noise and nothing else. From my previous contacts I learned that my grandfather may seem “disappeared” for long periods (at least long for me) and then manifest himself abruptly with the most unexpected entrance. The moral of the story is that I’m not as anxious as I was when all this began.
I’m still thinking about the purport of Goldstein’s last assertive sentence: “Follow the path of the video“. What does that mean? I don’t know for sure…
I see here at least 2 possible interpretations to consider:
Option A. To get some video tape recorder or camera device and start experimenting with it for our future conversations.
May be he wants to show up on some screen to round off there the idea that he expects to communicate. “An image is worth one thousand words”, you know. The odd side of this reasoning is that my grandfather was not an “image” kind of person. Much the opposite, he always relied on words and spoken language (the remains from his early religious talmudic education he received in Romania).
Another argument against this hypothesis is that I’m far from a wealthy position and to acquire these fancy equipment can be my financial coup de grâce. I really doubt that my grandfather objective is to worsen my already complicated (not to say vague) monetary situation.
Maybe I can borrow that gear from Angel Manoukian. I suppose that he ought to have those kind of appliances to conduct his paranormal investigations. But it will be a huge responsibility for me, and I really don’t want to pressure him more than I already did.
Option B. To spell out the exact obscure instant of Goldstein’s passing away…
It may sound strange, but the other day, when I transfered the Spica picture from the camera to my PC I saw a photo that I took a couple of hours after my grandfather died. I completely forgot that intriguing snapshot until then. Perhaps my mind blocked it due to the grief caused by the recent loss… That photo shows a frame from an internet video my grandfather was seeing when he suffered a stroke.
So it is likely that now he wants me to delve in that picture and its apparent relation to his death.
It’s been a heavy week
I’m so damn exasperated with my boss’ forced extra hours policy… Last week I worked more than 12 hours a day and returned home absolutely drained. I played with the Spica for 60 minutes at the most, but without any success. My mood was not the propitious one, I guess.
This past week was not an unproductive one, though. I contacted Angel Manoukian, one of my grandfather’s most advanced and beloved disciples, an authority himself on paranormal research. He will guide me and help me record the next Goldstein’s appearances. He will also lend me a simple device to tape the voice. Angel’s guidance will be fructiferous, as always were our canny dialogues each time he hanged out at home to discuss his ideas with my grandfather.
Tonight, I’ll try to get some EVP again. Maybe yesterday’s full moon manifests itself as a positive influence for the notable materialization of such an anomaly. Will see…
An arcane message
It happened again, today. Early in the morning, while I was taking a shower, the bath lights suddenly went down and trembled with a very pale yellowish languor for about 10 seconds. I took that incident as a signal and hurry myself out of the bathtub, freezing my bones with the southern-hemisphere winter’s chilling air. I grabbed a towel and run almost naked to turn on the Spica. This time it was instantaneous: my grandfather spoke right away…
“Follow the path of the video.”, he said.
His message seemed to me sort of obscure. So I asked: “What do you mean?”.
Then nothing but the white noise. I know that this might sound absurd but for half a minute or so I felt Goldstein’s generous smile, as it were being emanated from the radio itself. I started to cry when his voice struck me as a thunderbolt:
“Don’t get too cold”, he said with what I thought was a sweet, playful intonation.
I waited for 30 minutes for another contact, dressing myself up in the meantime, but my grandfather didn’t come back.