The following is from pages 244-46 of The Geller Papers: Scientific Observations on the Paranormal Powers of Uri Geller, edited by Charles Panati. Leo Leslie – a professional magician from Denmark, was asked to prep the audience of a television show, being filmed in Copenhagen in 1974, before Uri Geller was to come on. He told them what tricks he thought Geller would be performing and instructed the staff how to avoid potential fraud. After the show he met with Geller backstage to investigate Geller's claims personally.
I told Geller I was still skeptical despite what I had seen him do on the television show. He asked what he could do to convince me of the genuineness of his paranormal powers. "Well," I said, "you could either bend one of my keys or attempt, if you can, to read my thoughts." Geller responded enthusiastically. "OK," he said. "Make a drawing." He asked me to sit at one end of the sofa with my back to him while he sat at the opposite end with his back to me. I decided to draw a flower. (From the psychologist who stood near Geller and observed his every move, I later learned that Geller started to draw a flower immediately, even before I set my pencil to the paper. He had finished his drawing before I had even begun mine.) "Are you finished?" Geller asked me. I told him that I was not, and that I was still concentrating on the object I had decided to draw.
"Then we must start over again," said Uri, "Because I have already received an image and finished my drawing." He thought this attempt had failed.
Now I drew a flower and took some time putting finishing touches on it. But apparently Geller was receiving nothing. "I don't thik I can do it," he said. "Are you having difficulty concentrating on the object?" he asked. I told him that I was, but still I asked to see whatever sketches he might have made. He turned around and said, "I can only get the image of flowers." He had drawn a crude sketch of another flower.
My suspicions of him had begun to fade. There was no chance that he could have cheated. None of his own people was present in the room. The girl from the studio sat at Geller's end of the room and she could not possibly see my drawing. A photographer roamed around the room, but he said nothing and did nothing but take photographs. Geller could not have used accomplices or relied on secret signs to receive the drawings.
What about the possibility that Geller relied on "sound readings," that is, the reproduction of lines from the sound impressions a pencil makes on paper. Because I am an experienced mentalist, I intentionally had distorted the sounds my pencil made while I drew the flower. In addition, I spoke constantly during the time I was drawing – partly to drown out sound from my pencil and in part actually to confuse Geller. I believe that sound-reading must be ruled out as a possible method by which Geller could have received the drawings.
Could Geller have used a "thumb-writer"? This clever little magician's aid is a tiny metal clip, filled with lead, which is held tightly underneath the thumbnail so that the lead point sticks out slightly. With such a device, an accomplished mentalist can, in a moment, reproduce a simple drawing or a small series of numbers on a card behind his back. When the mentalist pulls the card from behind his back, it looks as if the drawing had been there all along. Being a practicing mentalist, will not go into complete detail here on exactly what else a person experienced with a thumb-writer can ahieve. The only thing that must be stated is that the psychologist at Geller's end of the sofa saw Geller draw both flowers before he said he "gave up." I have to admit that I believe Geller actually read my thoughts.
After his demonstration of telepathy Geller tried psychokinesis. A nickle-plated, enameled key was given to Geller. He asked the journalist who was present to hold the key between two fingers. Geller then rubbed it a couple of times, very lightly, with his forefinger. "I can't do it," he suddenly said. "You have done something to this key. I cannot get in contact with the metal." I immediately suspected that Geller probably used a chemical to soften metal, and that with the coating on the key he felt defeated. I took the key from the journalist and studied it closely. But while I sat looking at the key the enamal suddenly started to crack, and a second later strips of the nickel plating curled up like small banana peels, while the key actually started to bend in my hand. I don't know who was more excited, Geller or the rest of us in the room. I only know that we were all thrilled.
The judgment of all of us who were present for what occurred was one of total endorsement of Geller's paranormal claims: both his ability to bend metal and his talent for receiving telepathic signals. When I am asked about the strength of my own conclusions as to what I witnessed, I can answer only that while Geller was in Copenhagen I did not catch him in any deceptions. Therefore I have to continue to rely on my own judgment and experience as a mentalist; they tell me that Uri Geller is genuine.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Uri Geller Bends On
The following is from pages 4-6 of The Geller Papers: Scientific Observations on the Paranormal Powers of Uri Geller, edited by Charles Panati. Geller demonstrated his metal bending ability for physical scientist Eldon Byrd of the Naval Surface Weapons Center, Silver Spring, Maryland, in 1973. He bent samples of the metal nitinol, which was, at the time, very difficult for the public to obtain.
Nitinol wire is composed of approximately 55 percent nickel and 45 percent titanium. It has a physical memory. That is, a piece of nitinol wire actually "remembers" the shape in which it was manufactured. No matter how much it is crumpled or bent, a nitinol wire, when heated, springs vigorously back to its original shape. Byrd is quite familiar with the properties of nitinol. He knows that no simple ordinary force can alter the wire's memory; he wanted to see if Geller could.
Geller arrived at the Naval Surface Weapons Center in October of 1973. in one test Byrd held a five-inch straight piece of nitinol by its end while Geller "gently stroked" the middle of the wire with his thumb and index finger. After twenty seconds Geller felt a "lump" forming in the wire. He removed his fingers and there was a sharp "kink" at the wire's center. Byrd placed the wire in boiling water, which should have removed the kink. It did not vanish. "Instead of [the wire] snapping back with some force into a straight shape," Byrd writes, "[it] began to form approximately a right angle." Byrd then placed the kink over a flame, but still it did not straighten out.
In his paper "Uri Geller's influence on the metal nitinol," Byrd states that a crystallographic analysis of the kinked section showed that the crystals that contain the wire's memory had actually increased in size. Such a change requires that the wire be reannealed by being heated to a temperature of about 900o F. "There is absolutely no explanation as to how Geller bent the wire by gently touching it," says Byrd.
Perhaps not, but the metallurgists at the Naval Surface Weapons Center were intent on removing the kink. They put the wire under tension in a vacuum chamber, and heated it by passing an electric current along its length until the wire was glowing and almost molten; in other words, they reannealed it into a straight shape. When the wire was removed from the chamber and laid on a plate to cool it was indeed straight; it appeared to have regained its original memory. But when the wire cooled to room temperature, the kink spontaneously returned. "The day following the experiment, writes Byrd, "I took another piece of nitinol wire and tried to bend it into as tight a kink as Geller had formed; I used the point of a screwdriver ... It was impossible for me to [do it] without using Bunsen burners and pliers." Byrd also tried various chemicals on pieces of nitinol wires to see if the wires could be temporarily "softened" so that a kink might be formed without extreme heat and sizable force. The nitinol proved impervious to all the chemicals tested.
But experimentation between Geller and nitinol does not stop there. Byrd realized that anomalous effects can occur in the best of experiments. Perhaps the wires Geller altered (there were several of them) had a structural defect: Is this why Geller had been able to change their memory? Byrd pondered this question for eleven months before he got another chance to test Geller. This time it was not at the Naval Surface Weapons Center, but in an informal setting at the home of a friend of Geller's in Connecticut. Byrd brought with him three pieces of nitinol wire; all had been thoroughly tested at the lab to make sure that on being heated they sprang back to straight configurations. Geller rubbed the wires one at a time, and all three became deformed. Heating would not straighten them out. On later examination, nitinol experts at the lab concluded that the only way "permanent deformation" could have occurred was through the use of intense heat and mechanical stress. "All of the bends that Geller had produced thus far in nitinol wires have been permanent deformation," says Byrd. "The wires can be ... twisted into any shape by hand, but on being heated ... [they always] return to the shape Geller had imposed upon them."
Could Geller have somehow cheated to achieve the results he did? Because of the unusual nature of nitinol, the scientific controls essential for an unambiguous investigation are, for the most part, built into the testing material. Byrd and his colleagues conclude that Geller would have had to either "palm" a Bunsen burner or substitute his own pieces of nitinol, manufactured to his specifications, if deception is to be the explanation for the events that took place. Geller had to deform the wire, Byrd thinks, by paranormal means.
Nitinol wire is composed of approximately 55 percent nickel and 45 percent titanium. It has a physical memory. That is, a piece of nitinol wire actually "remembers" the shape in which it was manufactured. No matter how much it is crumpled or bent, a nitinol wire, when heated, springs vigorously back to its original shape. Byrd is quite familiar with the properties of nitinol. He knows that no simple ordinary force can alter the wire's memory; he wanted to see if Geller could.
Geller arrived at the Naval Surface Weapons Center in October of 1973. in one test Byrd held a five-inch straight piece of nitinol by its end while Geller "gently stroked" the middle of the wire with his thumb and index finger. After twenty seconds Geller felt a "lump" forming in the wire. He removed his fingers and there was a sharp "kink" at the wire's center. Byrd placed the wire in boiling water, which should have removed the kink. It did not vanish. "Instead of [the wire] snapping back with some force into a straight shape," Byrd writes, "[it] began to form approximately a right angle." Byrd then placed the kink over a flame, but still it did not straighten out.
In his paper "Uri Geller's influence on the metal nitinol," Byrd states that a crystallographic analysis of the kinked section showed that the crystals that contain the wire's memory had actually increased in size. Such a change requires that the wire be reannealed by being heated to a temperature of about 900o F. "There is absolutely no explanation as to how Geller bent the wire by gently touching it," says Byrd.
Perhaps not, but the metallurgists at the Naval Surface Weapons Center were intent on removing the kink. They put the wire under tension in a vacuum chamber, and heated it by passing an electric current along its length until the wire was glowing and almost molten; in other words, they reannealed it into a straight shape. When the wire was removed from the chamber and laid on a plate to cool it was indeed straight; it appeared to have regained its original memory. But when the wire cooled to room temperature, the kink spontaneously returned. "The day following the experiment, writes Byrd, "I took another piece of nitinol wire and tried to bend it into as tight a kink as Geller had formed; I used the point of a screwdriver ... It was impossible for me to [do it] without using Bunsen burners and pliers." Byrd also tried various chemicals on pieces of nitinol wires to see if the wires could be temporarily "softened" so that a kink might be formed without extreme heat and sizable force. The nitinol proved impervious to all the chemicals tested.
But experimentation between Geller and nitinol does not stop there. Byrd realized that anomalous effects can occur in the best of experiments. Perhaps the wires Geller altered (there were several of them) had a structural defect: Is this why Geller had been able to change their memory? Byrd pondered this question for eleven months before he got another chance to test Geller. This time it was not at the Naval Surface Weapons Center, but in an informal setting at the home of a friend of Geller's in Connecticut. Byrd brought with him three pieces of nitinol wire; all had been thoroughly tested at the lab to make sure that on being heated they sprang back to straight configurations. Geller rubbed the wires one at a time, and all three became deformed. Heating would not straighten them out. On later examination, nitinol experts at the lab concluded that the only way "permanent deformation" could have occurred was through the use of intense heat and mechanical stress. "All of the bends that Geller had produced thus far in nitinol wires have been permanent deformation," says Byrd. "The wires can be ... twisted into any shape by hand, but on being heated ... [they always] return to the shape Geller had imposed upon them."
Could Geller have somehow cheated to achieve the results he did? Because of the unusual nature of nitinol, the scientific controls essential for an unambiguous investigation are, for the most part, built into the testing material. Byrd and his colleagues conclude that Geller would have had to either "palm" a Bunsen burner or substitute his own pieces of nitinol, manufactured to his specifications, if deception is to be the explanation for the events that took place. Geller had to deform the wire, Byrd thinks, by paranormal means.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Uri Geller at SRI
The Stanford Research Institute in California investigates the psychic phenomena associated with Uri Geller in the 1970s (you can tell by the tight pants and poofy hair everyone has). The ESP and remote viewing tests provided the best results (the one test had odds against chance of a trillion to one). Geller also produced a full scale deflection of a magnetometer, altered the reeding of a weight on a scale that was under a glass dome, and dowsed for water, sugar cubes, and ball bearings inside sealed metal tins. The experiment where Geller moved a compass needle was discarded because of bad protocol. Informal demonstrations were conducted of Geller's metal bending ability on a variety of objects with different compositions. The entire series of videos lasts about 30 minutes.
-Dee
-Dee
Monday, December 21, 2009
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Urban Mystic Classics: Summer Spoons
Reprint from 22 August 2008.
In the same vein as an earlier entry this month, "Michael Chriton on PK", I have returned to the world of metal bending. While out eating I took the coffee spoon in my hand almost unknowingly and began the process of bending it. I'm not sure why I did this; perhaps the spoon wanted to be bent or wanted me to bend it. When I felt that it was in the state where it is ready to bend I approached with mild trepidation and decided against anyting spectacular for what I hope would be reasonable and obvious reasons. Anyway, here is the result of that.
Although I had no way of officially measuring it the spoon did seem more bent after an hour or so from the time I had put it down than when I initially bent it. This has been known to happen often.
-Dee
In the same vein as an earlier entry this month, "Michael Chriton on PK", I have returned to the world of metal bending. While out eating I took the coffee spoon in my hand almost unknowingly and began the process of bending it. I'm not sure why I did this; perhaps the spoon wanted to be bent or wanted me to bend it. When I felt that it was in the state where it is ready to bend I approached with mild trepidation and decided against anyting spectacular for what I hope would be reasonable and obvious reasons. Anyway, here is the result of that.
Although I had no way of officially measuring it the spoon did seem more bent after an hour or so from the time I had put it down than when I initially bent it. This has been known to happen often.
-Dee
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Urban Mystic Classics: Michael Chriton on PK
Michael Chriton talks about his experiences with psychokinesis and metal bending a la Uri Geller. This is a reprint from 11 August 2008, back before The Urban Mystic changed URLs. This will begin the series on Uri Geller and metal bending.
"but other magicians, such a James Randi, claim that spoon bending isn't a psychic phenomenon at all, just a trick.
"But I had bent a spoon, and I knew it wasn't a trick. I looked around the room and saw little children, eight or nine years old, bending large metal bars. They weren't trying to trick anybody. They were just little kids having a good time."
Michael Crichton, world famous best selling author and global warming skeptic explains why the skep-dicks' explanation that spoon bending is just a trick is wrong. You can't deny experience. The experience for what it is, experience, is beyond chriticism.
It's refreshing to see someone as famous as Mr. Crichton is sympathetic toward psi. So just what is the secret to spoon bending?
" The only thing I noticed is that spoon bending seemed to require a focused inattention. You had to try to get it to bend, and then you had to forget about it. Maybe talk to someone else while you rubbed the spoon. Or look around the room. Change your attention. That's when it was likely to bend. If you kept watching the spoon, worrying over it, it was less likely to bend. This inattention took learning, but you could easily do it. "
I can attest to that. My old teacher told me about focused inattention in teaching me spoon bending (it's been a while since I've done it, so am badly out of practice; it can become an expensive endeavor).
-Dee
"but other magicians, such a James Randi, claim that spoon bending isn't a psychic phenomenon at all, just a trick.
"But I had bent a spoon, and I knew it wasn't a trick. I looked around the room and saw little children, eight or nine years old, bending large metal bars. They weren't trying to trick anybody. They were just little kids having a good time."
Michael Crichton, world famous best selling author and global warming skeptic explains why the skep-dicks' explanation that spoon bending is just a trick is wrong. You can't deny experience. The experience for what it is, experience, is beyond chriticism.
It's refreshing to see someone as famous as Mr. Crichton is sympathetic toward psi. So just what is the secret to spoon bending?
" The only thing I noticed is that spoon bending seemed to require a focused inattention. You had to try to get it to bend, and then you had to forget about it. Maybe talk to someone else while you rubbed the spoon. Or look around the room. Change your attention. That's when it was likely to bend. If you kept watching the spoon, worrying over it, it was less likely to bend. This inattention took learning, but you could easily do it. "
I can attest to that. My old teacher told me about focused inattention in teaching me spoon bending (it's been a while since I've done it, so am badly out of practice; it can become an expensive endeavor).
-Dee
Saturday, November 14, 2009
A Student in Arms: The True Artist
An exerpt from Donald Hankey's book A Student in Arms. Sometimes it takes a war to find out what makes us truly human. The depth of our humanity can only be approached through the harshest of struggles. It is through this that we are able to find out who the true artist is: the one with the true sense of the dramatic.
Includes a brief history of Mr. Hankey and the book.
-Dee
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
