I don’t if anyone of you are familiar with Steve Quayle and Tom Horn? They are Christian investigative researchers who are currently working on projects involving interdimensional physics. The following is an excerpt from The Hagmann Report:
Steve Quayle and Tom Horn are two investigative researchers who have been working independent of one another for years. Decades, actually. They have been on parallel paths as they investigated matters that did not immediately appear to have more than a casual relationship under the larger umbrella of interdimensional physics.
Just a decade or two ago, they were laughed at by many in the “mainstream,” whose understanding of such topics was limited and thereby relegated to science fiction and fantasy. Today, as knowledge is increasing at an exponential rate, the topic of interdimensional physics is no longer talked about in hushed tones, thought of as a conspirator’s delusion, or pushed to the far recesses of the internet.
The independent research of Tom Horn and Steve Quayle, individually conducted but collectively viewed, has been forcing the hand of mainstream scientists, physicists and historians, many who have suppressed the truth about such things as portals that transcend time and space, past and present. They have connected the dots between ancient civilizations, biblical accounts, twentieth-century projects and current initiatives that have been deliberately hidden from the public.
If you would like to listen to one of the most recent interviews of these men, this link from the Hagmann Report contains a video that might be of interest to you.
For the longest time I was one of those people who scoffed at the notion of interdimensional physics. The very concept of space aliens and giants and creatures from another dimension seemed absurd to me, and I would get irritated with people like Steve Quayle and Tom Horn for presenting the concept as if it were absolute reality. But I think my irritation was my defense mechanism, as I preferred to continue blocking a truth in my own life rather than allow it to rise to the surface and be shared with others. It was just easier to believe a lie rather than face reality.
Some of you may already have read my post from a few years ago in which I briefly share an experience of my early childhood where I was exposed to something very dark and inexplicable. It took several decades for me to finally be able to acknowledge that it happened and to be able to openly discuss it. I had always felt like a freak when I tried to convince others what I had been through. I guess my discovery of Steve Quayle and Tom Horn triggered something within me that eventually led to my willingness to talk about my experiences.
The Devil had tricked me for decades, making me think that I had been visited by a being or beings from outer space. My advice to anyone who is tempted to believe in space aliens and other dimensions is this: Believe all you want, but please know what dark forces are behind the grand delusion. As Steve Quayle and Tom Horn explain, the diabolic trickery is one of the Devil’s greatest schemes. He tries (and succeeds) at wowing the masses so that people (like me) will fall into the mindset of believing that there are creatures and dimensions that exist somewhere in outer space, separate from and independent of God. Don’t fall for the lie. And pray for those who have already been sucked in. There is always hope through Our Lady’s Holy Rosary and the wearing of the Scapular.
A Trick of the Tail
When I was a toddler my mother bought me books about God, and in one of them were pictures of angels. She showed me the angel who turned bad, and I saw an image of him falling. She told me that he is known as the Devil, and that because he turned away from God, he lost his place in God’s kingdom.
Throughout my childhood I had the impression that the Devil was a bad creature who lived somewhere below the earth. I pictured him with a red face and horns, holding a pitchfork. I knew that he came out on Halloween, and I figured he probably hid himself on Valentine’s Day. I didn’t think of him as a threat and assumed he was probably quite harmless, the way those bad guy cartoon characters are portrayed in old Bugs Bunny reruns. Something like the Tasmanian Devil. But my encounter with the Devil began long before my first memory of Bugs Bunny or Halloween. It happened before I could articulate my fears in the form of words or express my concerns that the environment that surrounded me seemed unstable and unsafe, and at times, unfamiliar.
It has been said that the Devil despises innocence. I’ve also heard that children, being the epitome of innocence, are protected from the cruel claw that plagues humanity and wreaks havoc on souls. But somehow, I had become an unwilling participant in a game I had no desire to play—a game with invisible opponents, no rules, and no sense of beginning or end. It would be so much easier to believe that it was all just a dream—moving pictures in a blur of memory. But the memory is as sharp today as it was back then.
Weeds in the Garden
It was 1969—at the peak of the Vietnam War and the free love counterculture. The world was rioting, and psychedelic drugs were everywhere. People were following the dictate of Timothy Leary who said to “turn on, tune in, and drop out.” The sexual revolution was in full swing, and chaos ruled the earth. And in the midst of the hippie movement and campus uprisings, I was fighting my own internal battle. I started becoming aware of a presence around me that had seemed to attach itself to me like a shadow. It felt as if I was sharing my space with something, and that I was constantly being watched or followed. I didn’t like the way I felt, and yet I wasn’t aware that there was any other way to feel. I assumed very early on that this experience was normal, and I thought that everyone must feel the same way because I didn’t know any differently. I tried to ignore it. But no matter where I went or what I did or who was with me at any given time, this presence clung to the very core of me. At times I assumed that it was me.
My mother went to great lengths to see to it that our family was shielded from any form of 1960’s deviance. Instead, she built her home around her Roman Catholic faith and her wholesome 1950’s moral influence and conservative conformity. Her aversion to the freewheeling footloose and fancy-free attitude that pervaded society in those days was demonstrated in several ways from the music she played and refused to play, to the clothes she wore and refused to wear. My father followed suit, and between the two of them not a drop of radical 60’s spillover descended upon our home, aside from the inescapable drab colors of the era—pea green, mustard yellow, and burnt orange. From clothing to furniture to wallpaper, those colors were the popular flavor of the 60’s, and they dominated the marketplace the way weeds dominate an unattended garden.
We lived in a country town called Marcellus, forty minutes from Syracuse, NY on Bishop Hill Road. Our neighbor, Farmer Brown, lived next door, but to me it seemed like cornfields away. Our house was over one hundred years old and sat on ¾ acre of land. The air was fresh and sweet, and crickets could be heard at night for miles around.
One night I sat with my father who was reading me a book, but he was too immersed in the story to notice what I saw outside the window next to us. I wished he would just look outside, but I couldn’t say anything to him because I’d been warned not to tell my parents about it. I glanced over my left shoulder, watching, as the big ball of glowing light floated along the grass of the field where the cows grazed by day. As it floated, I froze with fear, wondering when my father would finally see it and make it go away. But he went on reading, and I pretended to be interested in the story. My mother chatted with us in the doorway facing the window, but she was completely oblivious to anything amiss in the darkness outside. And as the glowing ball made its rounds about the field, I wished for daylight, when Farmer Brown’s cows would be back grazing in the sunshine, and I could once again pretend this was nothing but a dream.
There were several nights like these, but because of limited space and in the interest of time, I am only including one small excerpt of one of my experiences in this post, saving the others for the memoir that I’ve been working on for several years now, with the hopes that it will be completed in 2017.
There has always been talk of UFOs and aliens and spaceships that abduct people. But in all that fascination and fantasy thinking, people fail to see the obvious, which is often the most overlooked. While fixating on the phenomenon, they miss the whole point of what and why the phenomenon exists in the first place.
Thanks for taking the time to read my blog. Please get right with the Lord. I believe things are changing at a rapid pace.
Photo by: ShutterSparks