This blog is active again.
What a horse has taught me.
What has changed in the human race? Where did we go wrong??? Technology? Latch key? disconnection? Isolation? Shitty human beings? We trophy hunt to extinction. We bully over the web. We use blogs and social media as guns and declare our innocence and deny our involvement. We yell trolls or victim blaming. So much easier than actually taking responsibility.
We make other people our business in a most vicious manner and it is none of our business.
We attack strangers to feel important using WordPress or Facebook.
But we cannot take responsibility.
I am being taught ground training with my horses. They were bullies. They bullied me. Heavily. Dangerously. They bullied each other. Isolation is death yet being isolated creates death.
Then I was taught some things that can be applied across life with other people.
I am going to just leave this here and let you apply it.
Horses are herd animals. They have specific jobs to thst herd. Leader. Follower. Protector. Etc.
Every day is a power struggle. To keep as head of the herd. As a human, it is a necessary move for my survival. The 2 horses are 1400lbs a piece. My knees and back are shot from military injuries. I am 100% service connected injured. My survival in the arena is keeping head of the herd. My survival mentally is the herd.
So I lunge the horses. To control their feet. With confidence. With surety. I must do this in a way that does not break their spirit. Breaking a horse is horrible. You take their will away. You kill their spirit. And one day, they will turn and kill you. A horse never forgets what you do to them. They simmer. They might never do anything but live miserable…or they might turn on you. Partnership is the key. Gentle not broke.
So I had to learn to read them. When they are defiant, they are sent out. Lunge. Not allowed to come in to me. To be isolated from me…their herd. I control their feet…but the minute they drop their head and lick lips (a way of saying…oh…i understand what and why)…i have to stop. Drop the flag and/or whip. I drop it. I drop my energy. I have read and understand too.
I drop my head and relax. I turn. The horse understands. We just said ok. He walks to me and lowers his head next to me. I turn and scratch and talk. We then walk together. He follows me. He goes where I go. Willingly.
A join up. His herd is important. His herd is acceptance. His herd sets the behavior acceptable. His herd is safety. His herd is connection. Connection is necessary.
Not broken. Gentled. Understood. Connected.
I am a victim of insane bullying.
A few years back, I made a decision to wear color patches on my uniform for a costume class. I asked vietnam guys their thoughts and they said “fuck it. Do it. Real vets dont give a fuck about tight regs”. I wore multiple rows of ribbons form some of my friends that had died plus mine….at the suggestion of my VA therapist to handle their recent deaths.
I also rarely fully explain myself. Couple that with some of my records are still sealed with classified duty…and well, a shit storm happened.
A man I have never met in New York decided that he was going to obsess about this incident. He knows what classified means and knows that lack of proof of what I say is as good as proof to condemn me in today’s age of social media. He proceeded to create multiple “official” looking websites calling for me to be outed as stolen valor. All are blogs and hardly official.
It almost worked, I was investigated. I was woreied as i knew what classified and plausable deniability means. I also know i was deployed under a TDY for those very reasons. I received some back pay owed to me. I received the rest of my rating, I received back my base privledges and a letter of recognition. I even got bumped forward on my surgery date.
When someone Google’s me, those sites come up…however, it that person being made fun of for thus obsession to bully. We laugh at it on base in the club while having drinks.
But there was that moment where the stress of it caused anger and depression. I wanted to die. I wanted him dead. Then it was Nothing as it became evident it was the best thing to happen to me. So many vets gathered around me and all that was owed to me is now here.
Now, what would happen if i was a kid in high school? Would I have had the mental capacity to say “it means nothing”? Probably not. I wonder in horroe, could I have been a shooter? Probably not. I don’t think I could ever had been bothered.
I look at the recent news and the lack of humanity of the event is devastating. The lack of humanity leading up to it, is just as devastating.
I am on the way to my barn at the moment but in part 2 of this blog…i am going to talk about herds, herd mentality and lack of a herd. All I have learned from horses and why this will apply to being bullied and the consequences this leads to. If you understood horses, you can see all of this unfolding from the news.
As I head back into the building, I check what Mary has found out.
Back in the old west, there was an Undertaker and he was very respected. It turns out that with an unknown turn of events, he was found to have robbed the bodies prior to burial. He was tried and found guilty, and sent out to be banished on this island in the Salt Lake. There is no food out there. There is no water that is drinkable. And there is no way just when the miles back through the dense Salt Lake.
Months later , the townspeople go back out to the island to see if he is still alive. There is no sign of him nor his body. And there was no way off the island. It is believed that after a few weeks he went mad, possibly drinking the salt water and then tried to swim back to the town. I guess that only the Salt Lake knows the exact truth.
I had in and I meet up with Susan Slaughter and we head back out to the lake bed. She tells me of the strange green orbs that have Lord her out there last year during this investigation. I tell her of what I found out about the Undertaker.
We walk up to the lake bed and the wind is blowing in the temperatures are dropping. We look out at to the island and we seem her green orbs. They’re not exactly at the island but they’re close to it. The funny thing is the island looks walkable distance and we decide we’re going to head out towards the orbs. 1 guest decides to follow with us. And the rest are too cold and too tired to continue. It is now 1030pm.
We begin to walk out towards the orbs. I get a text “where are You? Is Susan with you?” Susan’s flashlight dies. As i go to answer, i get another text from Mary “Jyms, dont get lured out there by the orbs…i have a bad feeling”. In the middle of answering the where are you… my phone dies.
We continue to talk and walk towards the orbs. Maybe 15 minutes and the orbs disappear. We stop and talk about returning back, when the orbs appear again. We continue towards them. We stop being cold and the wind is gone.
We seem to get no closer to the orbs nor the island.
The orbs disappear. We wait about 5 minutes. No return. We look back and see the building lights. They look to flick on and off. We figure they are signalling for us to return to the event. We head back.
We walk about 15 minutes and find ourselves at the dry shoreline. Now, we are following the building lights and yet we end up at least 100 yards off course and near the original Saltair.
We get chilled and the wind is blowing again. As we approach our area to walk up the dirt ramp to the building lawn, the wind is moving through the reeds. It sounds like water lapping on the shoreline.
Suddenly I hear a blood curdling scream and it comes from the area out by the Island. I turn and ask if Susan heard it. She says no. I figure maybe it is a bird or the wind. We step over a dead bird, crystallized by the salt it tried to drink. The scream returns and this time all of us heard it. It came from towards the Island. We turning look and the orbs are back in the distance dancing upon the lake bed. We stand at the top of the ramp deciding whether or not we should go back this time move faster.
Suddenly one of the coordinators comes out of the building and in a panicked relief, she runs up to us. We have been gone for over 3 hours and they were ready to send out a search party. 3 hours. Almost impossible to hear. They have been standing on the shore screaming our names and flashing flashlights in the hopes that we could find our way back out of the blackest Night. We laughed and said the moon lit our way almost as if it was a bright light and yet when we looked back out towards the island the moon gave us no light. I said well thank you for going to the second floor and turning on and off the light so that we could see where we were going and they looked puzzled is no such lights have been done.
As we got to the lawn, Susan and I looked back at the island…the orbs danced bright and green.
We will return. They will be waiting.
Thank you to M & L Paranormal for making this possible. Lydia, Kris, Londen and Max. And to Susan Slaughter, partner in adventure that evening.
At the ghostly after event at the Great Saltair. It was an incredible night. You can feel It in the air. Temperatures were dropping.
I stepped out of the car. Smell of salt in the air. The Saltair in front of me, a copper mine to left in the distance, the original spot of the Saltair to the right of me (approximately the same distance of the mine) and the grwat salt lake in front of all those.
I asked one of the crew to walk with me. The building did not catch my interest at all. There were no great feelings from it. The lake bed, it called out to me.
We walked up towards the edge of lake bed (now receded quite a ways in). A clear and distinct whistle from right behind us made my companion stand at attention. Immediately turning around, there was no one sight. This was already promising to be a great night.
We left to go into the building to check in and meet up with the rest of the group. I amused my host with tales of why one should never whistle, particularly at night. She was shook up. Poor Max.
We settled into the host area, and devoured some dinner.
I hosted a group of investigators but my mind was solidly outside. I just could not shake it.
I like to have all the facts and history of a place in my hands for an investigation. Not what others have found, nay, that provides a preconceived notions about what to expect. I want just the cold history. For that, I rely on Mary. Our Los Angeles group, S.C.A.R.E.D. (Southern Californian Allied Reseachers for Evidence of the Disembodied) run like a well oiled machine. I like to think of us much like the cast of Criminal Minds. Mary is our Baby Girl. She can find you all the info in a deep scrub.
I shoot Mary a text. Earlier in the day, she gave me what I needed to know about the building…including it was not even on the original site. I tell her that I am drawn to lake bed.
Within minutes, baby girl is sending Google shots, info, and more.
There is a perfect triangle. An island that continues to catch my eye out in the lake bed. I know it is there as I can make out an outline. The copper mine. Copper being an excellent conduit and mines are a source of tragedy. Finishing with the original Saltair site. I ask her about this. She tells me that it is odd as there are believed portals by a Shaman there. More than that, there is a Bermuda Triangle style energy there. The Salt Lake Triangle. Equipment malfunction. Small aircraft problems. Crashes. Boats sinking. All the makings of a perfect storm.
I ask her, what does that island have to do with it. There are a few out there but only one that matters to me. She says she will scrub and get back to me.
An interesting fact of no great importance to that night….the Donner Party crossed through here just before making the fatal turn into the high Sierras. A rock that was used as a guide still stands.
One more fact….it is a known body dump sight for years.
I take a small group out with me. I spin a tale of history.
Look out unto the lake bed. See how it looks like water? Yet, as we walk, there is no water. The lake has pulled back.
Visualize yourself coming across the grwat unknown. Tired. Cold. Thirsty. Hungry. You see this in the distance and you move towards it. More and more. Desperation takes hold of your mind and body. You drive your horses faster. You jump out and run to the water. There is none. It is an illusion. You keep going to the next one. The next one. You find yourself sinking in the sludge. If you do fond the waters edge….it is so dense with salt, it would be fatal to drink it. Some take that chance. Welcome to the highway of tragedy. Where you stand.
One of guests looks panic stricken. He begins to run into the lake bed screaming “I know it is right here. The water is right here. Everyone, we can survive.”
I grimace and go after him. I catch up to him. I ask him “honey, what are you doing?” He replies “We need water.” I remind him that we have cases of water in the building. He looks out to the black night of the Lake Bed….panicked. I grab his shoulders and ask him “and what if you find it? You cannot drink it, son. You will die. It is 3x the salt density of the ocean. And should you get close, you will sink in the mud. Should you get through that, you will drown in the density of the water. It is not like the Dead Sea.”
He snaps out of it and agrees to go back towards the building and the group. He looks towards the old Saltair point. We here a kid scream. His friend sprints off in that direction and he follows as do I. I stop them. I tell them, there is no human in trouble. A child drowned at the original Saltair. You are hearing the imprint.
My phone goes off as I am leading the group back to the building. Keeping the two teens in my sight as they are being drawn to the lake middle.
I return into the building. I meet up with Susan Slaughter, the other guest host.
Susan and I return to the lake area….in part 2 of this blog, I will tell you of our tale!
There are 2 investigations coming up in Utah that in will be excited to share with you. Stay tuned!
A television show promo that never got off the ground. Was fun.
I promised to write more. And I blew it.
I was asked to write for a movie script….which is going into pre-production. I have been optioned for at least 4 more (maybe more after). With some artistic control on set doing a few jobs. #newsaddles
I was given a beautiful new horse from a veteran group. Now I have Roo and Remi.
I got paperwork sorted out thanks to the morons AND found some TDY papers showing theater deployment. AND got more paperwork sorted….got my military ID with all my base privileges. So I have been on base shopping. (You know…because I am such a fake veteran and all according to 2 losers putting up multiple sites. 1 a basement dweller and possible future family annihilator and the other a fake PR rep that ripped off Pagan Day Fest and was fired for gross incompetence…then threatened me if I did not review her as A+. Ms Bargas….you are grossly incompetent and possibly insane. But keep joining forces with Mr Armstrong…who outright wrote all liberals should be killed. Cole Prime…you list him as a friend? He wrote once that trans people should be slaughtered like pigs. He is a Trump supporter and Marie is promoting him. You might want to consider these two sources. I might have made a poor decision on a stupid uniform choice…they are tearing apart the fact I put ribbons of #deceased #veterans that were my friends on the horse as an honor salute and harping on fake photoshopped claims by themselves or a handful of drug addicts I fired over the years. I worry for you Cole.
Horse shows. I have riding in horse shows. Schedule is slammed.
Now…for the good news. As I am allowed…i will be using this blog as teasers to the upcoming films as well as the alchemy videos….all have #occult themes. AND I am putting my YouTube channel to use. Once a week, I will be doing an Alchemy lesson.
I will also post the videos to here. There is also
And a few other sites! Catch you soon. I have a Veteran Field trip to surf in less than 4 hours and a few emails to answer before I go to bed. Much love and more to come!!