The Death of Physics

“Soon after the publication of Structure, Kuhn received a letter from Ira Einhorn, a 24 year-old English instructor at Temple University, in Philadelphia. ‘A book such as yours,’ Einhorn began, ‘makes one realize that there are still a few bright lights burning in the wasteland of modern Humanistic thought.’ Einhorn’s 4 page letter continued: ‘A few books are leading the men of thought to accept the consequences of the revolution started by Nietzsche and continued by modern art and science – your book must be placed in the forefront.’ Einhorn also offered suggestions for Kuhn’s future investigations.

Kuhn replied that Einhorn’s letter was ‘by all odds the most perceptive response I have yet received to my book, and it helped my morale immeasurably.’

‘For what it is worth,’ Kuhn continued, ‘I thoroughly agree that the concept of ‘paradigm’ needs all sorts of additional work. I began to se vaguely how some of it must be done, but though I firmly intend to get on with it, I have not yet got clear ideas, much less publishable work on the subject. When there is some, I shall do my best to make sure that you see it.’ Kuhn (who was writing to Einhorn from Berkeley) suggested that they get together when he reached the East coast: and they did.”

Keay Davidson, letter, 10/14/2005

Philip Coppens has dealt most directly with an aspect of my life that 1000s of articles have neglected and so-called friends have refused to speak about, for the taint of pariah might rub off.

The cowardice of those refusing to speak even the simple truth of my network activity has made me aware that I live in a country that has lost its soul, for so many have lied or just remained silent out of fear of association, though anyone with an overview of the tangled web of my relationship to most would say: they owed him a few.

But forgetting is foremost in this country devoted to celebrity and TV sports.

Certainly information wants to be free and wants to be circulated, for unlike soap it does not degrade when others use it, for it does not live under the aegis of the second law of thermodynamics, though how it functions and its law are just as opaque today as they were 40 years ago when I realised that information was more powerful than money and set out to prove such an assertion by living a life dedicated to information not money.

By 1979, when the powers that be decided to cut short my experiment, I was surrounded by the most intelligent people on the planet and had access to scads of the wealthy and powerful.

The network I created to service an end: paradigm change, had grown out of all proportion to its original intent: a theory group to aid those working on the data that Uri Geller was generating in the lab.

Work that I had first seen in Andrija Puharich’s Beyond Telepathy. It is a book that heralds a yet to be achieved change. I convinced my Doubleday editor and now dead friend Bill Whitehead to republish it along with Andrija Puharich’s first book: The Sacred Mushroom.

It is the seminal book in a still outré area of human knowledge, now including the quest for consciousness, that physics refuses to acknowledge, continuing to build ever more expensive matter smashers, though the future was offered to the discipline on a plate or should I say a spoon.

That failure has reduced it to a minor layer in the knowledge arena, for the excitement, genius and the money has gone elsewhere and the house of cards called string theory appears to be the Iraq of physics.

I’m an oceanic intuitive able to espy the entire whale from a tooth, but unlike most oceanic intuitives, I hack up my vision with extensive reading and consultation, so when I envisioned the environmental disaster, now unfolding before our eyes, in 1971 I began to think about how to bring about a massive paradigm shift – something I had been discussing with Tom Kuhn since our first meeting.

When Andrija Puharich tumbled into my life with Uri in tow, soon after, I immediately shifted my energies in that direction, much to the consternation of most of my ecological friends who didn’t understand.

I still lectured extensively on ecology but my focus had shifted for I saw that physics and Uri equalled a paradigm change that would rival Copernicus, opening up technological possibilities that would solve our energy/pollution problem.

Andrija and I began spending more time together, talking through many nights; Ossining became a second home. Ed Mitchell had been promised mucho dinero that never materialized, but he did help finance the SRI work that freaked the intelligence community when Uri turned out to be real and to be able to wipe computer screens.

Disinformation took over; a full spectrum of doubters arose as wiping computer screens implied that nukes wouldn’t function.

The entire tale should be told one day, as an object lesson for social change agents.

Suffice it to say that Uri did his very potent demos for enough top people to produce data that should have changed physics, but the doubters also freaked and letters (some begging) were written that if published, even today, would shock.

I always played fair witness, so my desk became a mare’s nest of explosive information, I found hard to believe.

Uri got tired of being disbelieved.

The story was very powerful, so I put Andrija under house arrest, took over the phone and the mail, held visits to a minimum (we were constantly briefing a host of heavies) and put a pen in his hand.

What emerged was a tale that dwarfed the wildest of sci-fi novels for Uri had put Andrija back into contact with forces whose strange effects were an integral part of our context, but to me were secondary to the paradigm change that I saw as totally necessary for species survival. Andrija, however, had been taken over by the need to save the world, so the forces became his focus, even after Bill Whitehead and I cut the book in half. Andrija was adamant, so Bill and I gave in, as it was Andrija’s tale, I had seen much to confirm the phenomenal side of the tale and the public agreed: Uri was an international bestseller.

But scientists freaked and Andrija became a laughing stock as I found out the next time I was in London and went to see Arthur Koestler with whom I had become quite friendly. His upset communicated deeply, making me aware that a phase of the work was over.

The question of why Andrija suddenly sabotaged his life’s work is complex. We had been warned and spied upon – that is not at issue.

It is also clear to me that Andrija had been taken over by a series of experiences that had become his truth and his telling of that truth was as integral to his on-going survival as was Leary’s relationship to LSD or McKenna’s to DMT.

I had seen it with LSD and wit so many who shaved their heads or started to wear orange: it was a conversion experience and had to damp itself out.

Yet upon deep reconsideration of The Stargate Conundrum, there is obviously more to the story.

The network continued in much enhanced form spreading out to 28 countries including a number that were behind the Iron Curtain.

Tesla, mind control, P.K. Dick and psychotronic weapons became my daily bread (not nourishing). I found myself courted by intel from both sides and given explosive information that few were capable of evaluating. Information I shared with almost no-one.

In the midst of all this Holly Maddux disappeared. I mourned for months and got deeper into matters that required more backup than I had.

The Rockefeller circle tried to recruit me directly, but public office was not of interest and I was too busy to give it even a second thought.

Then the Institute of Politics – a Kennedy organization – located at Harvard – offered me a position.

I spent three months meeting the people who run our politics and being courted by the CIA.
I was asked by the Prince of Iran (the shah’s nephew) to run his soon to be established satellite network; I refused for political reasons.

I went off to Yugoslavia and found myself (in retrospect) in the middle of a complex cold war game, though Tesla was my focus.

I was asked to help write and act in a high level soap about the gods. Omni began a major interview. Etc. Then my first life ended.