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Into The Mystic

Like my book, "Into the Mystic (From the Streets of Brooklyn)," this blog is devoted to discussions of "The Mystic" -- that expanded state of awareness where we connect with Spirit and experience other realities. As Spirit brought me to 9/11 Truth, discussions of what really happened on 9/11, and related deep events, are also covered. Some lighter stuff as well.

Friday, March 18, 2022

Poetry

So many years ago, I was into Poetry.  Actually, decades ago. 

Maybe for a year or so I was hooked on Poetry.  

I took a Poetry class at Hunter College, during my BA classes (in the 70s).  

The teacher was very positive, in a very positive way. 

I got hooked, for a while.

Then, today (3/18/22), I found a poem that says, at the end: "Fated to take a chance. For this love I could adore. For this rare and precious moment.  And a love forever more."

I don't know what that means. 



  

Posted by Dennis P. McMahon at 12:52 PM No comments:

Monday, January 24, 2022

Ali

I started watching a DVD of "Ali," starring Will Smith whom I thought was great.

In the beginning of the movie,  Cassius Clay defeats Sonny Liston.  During that fight (the first of two), a doctor examined Liston and found his left arm had been separated, at the shoulder, I think it was. And so Clay won after six rounds, as per doctor's rule that Liston could not go on.

Then I watched the real fight on youtube (link second below).  The movie presentation looked very much like the real film.

Based on the second link below, clearly, to me, Liston wanted to beat Clay.  But Liston couldn't figure out Clay.

Later, Muhammad Ali, assumed another name. 

Ali is the greatest.  He defeated the US Supreme Court. Here's one version:

Ali vs US

Clay vs. Liston

Posted by Dennis P. McMahon at 11:35 AM No comments:

Sunday, January 16, 2022

As If

As if no one reads what I say.

I can't blame anyone.  

I am, out of scope.

No one reads what I write.

After I am dead, someone will appreciate what I have written. I hope they make money.

Posted by Dennis P. McMahon at 5:38 PM No comments:

Saturday, January 15, 2022

Twelve Hours

I was 13, maybe just 14, years of age.  Some things, you never forget.

Recently, around that time, I had broken up with my very first girlfriend Eve (not her real name), who was a knockout.  She was a few months older.  But I was drawn to hotter and flashier girls who had spontaneously appeared in the Brooklyn neighborhood known as Sheepshead Bay.  

Eve, a classmate, wanted me back, I was told by a third party.  

Problem was, Eve and I never really communicated very well.  A third party would often be involved in relaying messages back and forth to Eve and me. 

Eve planned a party, allegedly to get us back together--or so I was told.  I was not interested in resuming our past relationship.  But I went to the party.

During the party, I made out with Eve and another girl (let's call her Kathy) to show to Eve that I did not want to be exclusive with Eve.  I was sure that the message was accurately sent.    

On the way home, two very older roughnecks attacked me and my friend.  We escaped easily.  They were drunk.

The next day, three tough and older guys approached me, in the Sheepshead Theater.  One guy (Leo, not his name) smacked me in the back of the head and then landed two weak punches to the face.  Originally, I felt I had done wrong by making out with Kathy, as Leo had stated.  However, I wanted to kill Leo if he would hit me with one more punch.  But there was no third puch.  

Had there been a third punch, I felt for sure that I would have retaliated and beaten Leo.  But, would the other two guys jump on me during the fight?  Three vs. one?  Unknown ending.  Unknown future.

Leo's ire was that I had made out with Kathy the night before at Eve's party.  Leo had been connected to Kathy, which I did not know.  

Days later, Kathy made Leo apologize to me for attacking me.  The apology happened at a confraternity dance.  Bewildered, I accepted the apology. Kathy was in charge.  I thanked her for that, in my heart, tho I was a bit confused.

Kathy was a pretty and powerful girl.  I liked her a lot.  But we never really dated, only kissing and hugging on the dance floor when the party lights went out.  We had lost contact after Eve's party, as I recall.

That Sheepshead Bay Theater event haunted me for decades.  I felt like a punk.  That event still haunts me now.  But not nearly as much.

Posted by Dennis P. McMahon at 12:43 PM No comments:

Thursday, January 13, 2022

One Game

It was December of 1968.  At Shea Stadium, it was Jets vs Raiders.  The winner would progress to the Super Bowl. 

The Jets beat the Raiders in the 1968 AFL Championship.  

I was there, at Shea Stadium.  In the upper decks.  

Namath was at the helm, and he was doing well.

But...every time I left the seats to smoke hash in the corridors, and warm up, the Raiders scored.  Three times that happened, as I recall.  

I was about to leave my seat the fourth time and the BIG tough guys surrounding me said, "Stay the fuck here.  You ain't going nowhere.  Stay the fuck here. Every time you leave, Oakland scores.  Stay the fuck here."

I was ok with staying.  I was pretty high anyway.

There was an open field to our left.  I think it was third down.  The quarterback didn't see the open man.  Incomplete pass, in the other way.

Then the Raiders were on a comeback, but a lateral pass ended up in the Jets' hands.

Jets won.

I was congratulated for having stayed in the the seats that I had occupied during the end of the game.

Fans congratulated me, as if I were part of the Jet win scenario.  

Jets went on to win the Super Bowl.  Amazing!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KPTlkr2upTo


Posted by Dennis P. McMahon at 1:53 PM No comments:

Monday, January 10, 2022

Smile

I like James Spader as an actor.  He's the star in Boston Legal. 

Spader was on Broadway.  The show was dated.  It was before 2013.

On the way out, with my then-girlfriend next to me (I can't recall if we were making physical contact),  I saw Candice Bergen.  

Candice smiled at me.  Not sure why.  Maybe I was hallucinating.  But, I didn't think so. 

I was shocked.  And exhilarated.  It was a reality to me.

I will always remember that smile. 

I still wonder, was she smiling at me?  I think she was.



 

Posted by Dennis P. McMahon at 2:00 PM No comments:

Tuesday, January 4, 2022

Darkness

I was emailing an old girlfriend some weeks ago.  During the texted conversation, she said that my darkness had made her unhappy, when we were together (many years ago).

I never knew I was dark.  And I certainly didn't realize that my "darkness" had made her unhappy.

I apologized for causing her unhappiness.  Via my alleged darkness.

I think that I may have been dark, in retrospect, compared to her.  She routinely listened to Public Radio.  I could not stand the propaganda. 

Clearly her opinion of me, as being dark, was a subjective opinion.  But was I dark, objectively?  I don't think I'll ever know.  

I'm sure no one cares.   

Life goes on.

Day by day.

[Could not make this URL link below work.  Copy, paste, and listen; if you want to.  The "Darkness, Darkness" lyrics are further below.  The URL works now, as I type.  Absence of automatic link may involve money, methinks.]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ORSD_u2upP4







Darkness, Darkness





 



Song by The Youngbloods
Darkness darkness, be my pillow
Take my head and let me sleep
In the coolness of your shadow
In the silence of your dream
Darkness darkness, hide my yearning
For the things that cannot be
Keep my mind from constant turning
Towards the things I cannot see now
Towards the things I cannot see now
The things I cannot see now
Darkness darkness, long and lonesome
Is the day brings me here
I have found the edge of sadness
I have known the depths of fear
Darkness darkness, be my blanket
Cover my with the endless night
Take away away the pain of knowing
Fill the emptiness of right now
The emptiness of right now
Fill the emptiness of right now
Darkness darkness, be my pillow
Take my head and let me sleep
In the coolness of my shadow
In the silence of my dream
Darkness darkness, be my blanket
Cover my with the endless night
Take away away the pain of knowing
Fill the emptiness of right now
In the emptiness of right now
In the emptiness of right now
Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: Jesse Colin Young
Darkness, Darkness lyrics © Royalty Network Music Publishing Ltd.
Posted by Dennis P. McMahon at 12:19 PM No comments:

Sunday, November 28, 2021

Columbo

Recently, I have been watching the entire "Columbo" series via DVD's. Many of the actors in the early shows (in the 1970s) are dead.  Oh well, we all die.  Then, what happens?  In any event...

Many of the alleged murderers in the show had incriminated themselves, but had not been warned of their right to be silent.  Specifically, Columbo never told suspects that "You have a right to be silent..." etc.

Thus, the alleged perpetrators' statements, triggered by Columbo's conversations and accusations, could possibly be eliminated from trial.  And so, some of the guilty persons Columbo arrested could go free. Depends on the evidence, of course.

There should be a TV program about what happens after Columbo arrested the alleged murderers, and the trial begins.  That could be a show, some guilty, some not guilty. 

In any event, if the show I postulated would occur, we'd need a new Columbo, as Peter Falk died over ten years ago.   https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peter_Falk

Wondering what the years of trial would be?   Would need legal experts.  I believe all of the murders occurred in LosAngeles, in CA.  So CA State (and LA City?) rules would prevail.

Artists can avoid reality, of course.




Posted by Dennis P. McMahon at 5:51 PM No comments:

Sunday, November 21, 2021

RFK, Jr.

I follow and support the Children's Life Fund, run by Robert F. Kennedy (RFK), Jr.  His father RFK and his uncle, JFK, had great speaking voices.  Tonally.  RFK, Jr. has some sort of weakness in his voice.  Still, he speaks out.  

RFK, Jr. has a book about The Real Tony Fauci.  I haven't read it yet, but I bought the book.  I support the Children's Life Fund.  

Sadly, Tony Fauci, of whom I have been disgusted, was born and raised in Brooklyn, NYC, where I still reside.  Embarrassing. 

See and hear, https://www.corbettreport.com/fauci/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=email


Posted by Dennis P. McMahon at 1:49 PM No comments:

Monday, October 25, 2021

Jagger Wig

How long has Mick Jagger been wearing a wig? Anyone know?

Great comedians like George Burns and Jack Benny and others before and after, wore a hair piece, from my perception.  Had they been bald, they would not have succeeded, methinks.

But I don't think the Old Time comedians talked about hair-pieces.  As I recall.

Recently, some comedians allegedly used a "weave," whatever that is.  Seinfeld?  He looks bald lately.  Not very pretty.  I'd go back to the "weave," if I were he. 


Posted by Dennis P. McMahon at 4:11 PM No comments:

Sunday, August 15, 2021

In the Moment

I've heard so many people say, "Be in the moment."  In other words, don't focus on the past or the future.  Focus on NOW.  In other words, "Be in the present."

Now, that may be a favorable approach in a number of instances.  However, while drinking too much alcohol may be enjoyable "in the moment," excess drinking could have an impact on the next day, or even immediately.  

So, while it may feel great to have more alcohol today so as to "be in the moment," there may be a price to pay, tomorrow, in terms of a hangover.  

Or maybe sooner.

Suggestion: Do think about drinking too much "in the moment," given the future.

Posted by Dennis P. McMahon at 11:09 AM No comments:

Monday, August 2, 2021

Sign of the Cross

I grew up Catholic. Went to St. Mark's grammar school in Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn NYC.  

The nuns taught us the sign of the cross.  What the sign of the cross involves is using your right hand to touch your forehead, then your heart area,  then your left shoulder, and then your right shoulder.  It was a sign that indicated we believed in God the Father, his son Jesus Christ, and the Holy Ghost. 

Many decades ago, I was playing baseball in a league and decided to make the sign of the cross when stepping into the batter's box.  I'm not sure where I got that idea.  But the ritual made me feel much more confident at the plate.

However, my manager said back then, "Don't do that sign of the cross.  I'll tell you why."

He never told me why or why not.  But I stopped using the sign of the cross as per the manager's directive.  Truly, I had felt better using the sign of the cross when I was up to bat.  Like God was on my side.

Decades later, now (August 2021), when I watch Major League Baseball (Mets mostly), so many players use the sign of the cross before they are at bat, and especially after getting a hit. Or, after getting a big hit, they might do some sort of gesture that symbolizes thanks to Heaven.  OK.  Up to them.

But let's say I'm pitching and I give up the winning home run to a batter who uses the sign of the cross, and he crosses home plate while using the sign of the cross or some other sort of thanks to Heaven. 

As the pitcher who gave up the home run, I would use a Brooklyn hand sign towards the Heavens, and ask, "WTF?  Why did you let him hit a home run off me?  WTF?" 

Previous paragraph would be a good skit, methinks.  

Posted by Dennis P. McMahon at 11:36 AM No comments:

Friday, March 26, 2021

Ebbets Field Tears

Well, the Dodgers had abandoned Brooklyn and gone to LA, after the 1957 baseball season.  

That year, in October, I played in Ebbets Field, as part of a Gravesend Youth Center (GYC) program event.  (I can't confirm the date.  But it happened.) 

I was on the Bantam Team.  Ten years old.  We played the GYC Grasshopper team which was, on average, one or two years older than us.  Big difference.  We felt that we were doomed to lose.  And we lost.

During the middle of the game, I was sent out to play centerfield.  I was not a centerfielder, but there I went.  Duke Snider, Willie Mays, and Mickey Mantle all played there.  And so many others.

When I arrived in center field, the Ebbets Field grass was half-way up to my knees.  I almost cried. Ebbets Field had been neglected.

Someone hit a shot to center.  I did not see the ball until it had risen above the top of the stadium grandstand. When I saw the ball, I could see that it would be way over my head.  A big double.  

Later, when I got up, I grounded out to short.  I hustled hard to first but was out by a stride. 0 for 1.

It was not a good day.  But I got to play in Ebbets Field before they destroyed that "blessed" Brooklyn structure, two years later, in 1960.  

As a kid, I thought I'd be a Brooklyn Dodger one day.  It was a dream that did not manifest.  But I did get to play in Ebbets Field.

Posted by Dennis P. McMahon at 4:23 PM No comments:

Sunday, February 14, 2021

Mets Prediction Came True

When the Brooklyn Dodgers abandoned Brooklyn, NYC, I started to root for the NY Yankees.  But my heart was not into it, until came Roger Maris. 

Back then, there were Mickey Mantle vs Roger Maris fans.  I liked them both.  

Maris hit 61 homers but in a 162 game season, vs Babe Ruth's 60 homers in a 154 game season.  Thus, Mr. Maris received an asterisk re the 162 game schedule. 

Later, in 1962, the NY Mets began.  I predicted that it would take 8 years for the Mets to be competitive.  That turned out to be true.  

In 1969, during the 8th season of the Mets, the Mets won the World Series on my birthday.  How gratifying that was.

Posted by Dennis P. McMahon at 2:51 PM No comments:

Friday, November 27, 2020

New Approach Needed

I read this article by Craig McKee.  I think the article is very good.  You can link to it -->

https://www.ae911truth.org/news/716-youtube-google-suppress-ae911truth-boost-authoritative-sources-like-nist?fbclid=IwAR1cM372Fz2pu3NOOoW7lIC6QwagCCb6yP9TpwuXHUh0E6833DHKNfJFERo

Here are my comments in reply, published on Facebook.  Dennis P. McMahon

Very good article. We need a new platform, a "Banned in Boston" type website(s), available to everyone. RFKJr has recently prescribed one such new platform where nothing is censored. THAT is what's needed (already very late; hopefully it arrives soon). Youtube, Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, etc. need to be regulated as utilities, and competition needs to be allowed to emerge. Meanwhile, ignore the psychopathic algorithms, and seek the Truth. Hard to find Truth nowadays, since the psychopaths (Gates, Fauci, Ferguson, WHO, CDC, etc.) are manipulating the world, via the COVID19 Plandemic scam. Trump has been very weak in response. Clowns like King Cuomo and Major deBlankio in NY, and their ludicrous and disastrous lockdowns, show that they too are mindless puppets (at best) of the psychopaths who are currently in control of the plandemic. Most other politicians, especially Democrats (FDR must be turning over in his grave) follow that plandemic path as well.


Posted by Dennis P. McMahon at 4:41 PM No comments:

Tuesday, July 14, 2020

Tango During the Plandemic


I have been tango dancing since before 9/11.  One key aspect of tango for me always has been holding a woman I've never met before in my arms, and leading her to make certain steps, and allowing her to embellish as we connect.  Outside of tango, where can one embrace a total stranger, so intimately?  You can swing, salsa, merengue, etc., but you'll never get so close as you can during tango.  Well, that has been my experience.  I'm sure there are exceptions.

Nowadays, during the plandemic, there are virtual tango classes on the internet.  But where is the touch of a partner? I don't see "touch" happening virtually.  Or am I behind the curve?

Check out the Central Park Tango (CPT) July 13 post on Facebook.*** According to that post, if tango is permitted at CPT, and you want to tango there IF that opportunity actually arises, you must wear a mask and not change partners.  Ugh! 

As of this writing, idiotic lockdown rules are destroying not only lives, careers, small businesses, and the economy etc., but also the mystique of tango. I have no plans to attend CPT or any tango event that requires wearing a mask. 

***KEY Update - July 13th - CPT / Parks Dept Info Exchange Underway !
Last Week, the PARKs Dept provided the Mayor's Office guidance. The CPT response, incl. requested info, has been submitted, so upcoming exchanges will confirm the status of CPT's season.
Meanwhile, (Outdoor Experimental) TANGO INTERLUDEs will continue - For Couples Only.
"Couples Only" Means >>> NO CHANGING of Dance Partner !
(Reminder: Initial Request for Long Term partners was DROPPED a While Ago)
Other IMPORTANT requirement - EVERY Person Must Wear MASK at ALL Times !
Sincere thanks to All who have participated so far, in the Proper manner, given these uncertain times.
Although there has been increasing interest in these INTERLUDEs,
They Continue to be LIMITED to 10 COUPLES ONLY per gathering.
If Interested, please email to cptrmcc@gmail.com (Need to include your partner's name).
STAY TUNED for Further CPT Updates.
Thanks Again for Your Understanding ! ! !
Posted by Dennis P. McMahon at 1:20 PM No comments:

Tuesday, June 23, 2020

Poised


I am poised to be a superstar, if someone discovers me.  Two books I've written could be a movie or TV hit series.

Sadly, it is clear, that no one (most likely) will make that discovery.  

A million-to-one shot.

Maybe a billion or trillion to one.

Posted by Dennis P. McMahon at 2:39 PM No comments:

Sunday, May 31, 2020

Pseudo-Hookers


During the lockdown, I've taken long walks, usually along Sheepshead Bay Road to the Bay itself.  And then back again.

Recently, during those walks, I had perceived that there seemed to be many hookers infiltrating the area.  

It took me two days to figure out that those seeming ladies of the evening were actually just local women flaunting their physiques and looks.  They were not actually hookers.  Instead, they were dressed hooker style.

I asked about this "hooker style" mode of dress (very revealing/flashy) to some of my contacts with whom I connect via text messages.  A couple of women responded.  

One said, "Sounds like the Kardashian-Jenner look..complete w extremely long nails/nail art."  

Another commented, "Yes Sheepshead Bay Very Gucci Prada Mercedes and Bentley’s.  Been trendy for a long time."

I guess I was out of the loop.

Not complaining.  Those women pretty up the area.  Few, if any, wear masks.
Posted by Dennis P. McMahon at 2:32 PM No comments:

Wednesday, May 27, 2020

Nothing's Gonna Change My World


For some reason, when I go out for a walk during the plandemic lockdown, and put on my headphones to listen to music on my iPhone, I begin my walk while listening to "Across the Universe" by the Beatles.

A repeating refrain in that song's lyrics is "Nothing's gonna change my world."  Not sure why, but I like listening to those lyrics while the world is changing so dramatically via the plandemic and lockdown. A fascination with irony is one suspected proclivity.

Recording at the link below.  Lyrics follow thereafter.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=90M60PzmxEE
Across the Universe
The Beatles
Words are flowing out
Like endless rain into a paper cup
They slither while they pass
They slip away across the universe
Pools of sorrow, waves of joy
Are drifting through my opened mind
Possessing and caressing me
Jai Guru Deva, Om
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world
Images of broken light
Which dance before me like a million eyes
They call me on and on across the universe
Thoughts meander like a restless wind inside a letter box
They tumble blindly as they make their way across the universe
Jai Guru Deva, Om
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world
Sounds of laughter, shades of life
Are ringing through my open ears
Inciting and inviting me
Limitless, undying love
Which shines around me like a million suns
It calls me on and on across the universe
Jai Guru Deva, Om
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world
Jai Guru Deva
Jai Guru Deva
Jai Guru Deva
Jai Guru Deva
Jai Guru Deva
Jai Guru Deva
Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: John Lennon / Paul McCartney
Across the Universe lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Posted by Dennis P. McMahon at 3:53 PM No comments:

Thursday, April 23, 2020

The Corona Virus (COVID-19) Has Struck . . .


. . . I don't know what to say about it except that the mainstream media is a tool of the powers that be, who reside above Trump, Putin, the Chinese Government, etc.  Here is one podcast I would recommend on this 23rd day of April, 2020.

https://www.mintpressnews.com/podcast-whitney-webb-coronavirus-mass-surveillance/266905/?fbclid=IwAR39qPNv-7tdOcjbO0lZBG5zTZNw2SCnmbJZaaKzdnm6L1nb5DsbArncfIE

And check out David Icke, on various places, including https://londonreal.tv/ .

This is a good story: https://childrenshealthdefense.org/news/the-bill-gates-effect-whos-dtp-vaccine-kills-more-children-in-africa-than-the-diseases-it-targets/?fbclid=IwAR1J9UjJ8_qGR9Zc1GhOLk_4rFW_pQd7u7VmoJaIW7YMJckZeUimHS21M4U


Posted by Dennis P. McMahon at 1:44 PM No comments:

Saturday, February 29, 2020

Mom and Dad Connection Day

"Yesterday," at 2/24/20, while driving along Ocean Parkway to get to downtown Brooklyn, I hit a horrid traffic jam.  My middle brother was at my right side in the front passenger seat.  

While in that traffic jam, telepathically, I “heard”our deceased father say, “This [traffic jam] will help arrange for you to have an empty elevator car ride to the seventh floor of 9 Bond Street.”  Or something like that.  And that is exactly what happened, about an hour later.  That gift was most welcome.  I detest crowded elevators.

Later my brother and I drove to Hoyt and Schermerhorn Streets, a street corner which our father had often mentioned when he was alive.  I forget why.  

Driving on Schermerhorn, I made a left on Hoyt and we went passed the rehab center where our mother, also deceased,  had spent so much time.  

It was a (deceased) Dad and Mom Connection Day!

Posted by Dennis P. McMahon at 4:38 PM No comments:

Tuesday, February 25, 2020

Soul Part


Mary (not her real name) had undergone some sort of trauma in her childhood, I was told by credible sources.  This resulted in the loss of part of Mary’s soul.  The shamans call that “soul loss.”   

Mary's soul loss continued into her adulthood, and was still there, last time I observed, in retrospect. 

Interestingly, and uniquely, the lost soul part came to me and asked me to use my (very rusty) shamanic skills to restore her (the lost soul part) to Mary’s soul.  It was a heavy metaphysical experience that weighed upon me.  

I told the soul part that I could not participate in that type of endeavor unless Mary came to me and requested that a soul retrieval be done (I'd probably refer her to an expert).  It was a matter of ethics.

I know Mary.  She will never make such a request.  But if she does, and if I can help, I will.

Posted by Dennis P. McMahon at 12:53 PM No comments:

Saturday, February 15, 2020

Could Not Post This Story on Facebook. . .


. . . but you should be able to find the story at:  https://sites.google.com/site/real911truthbeverlyeckert/home/the-death-of-outspoken-9-11-widow-beverly-eckert

You may have to copy and paste vs link.  Of course, the story may disappear at any moment.




Posted by Dennis P. McMahon at 2:46 PM No comments:

Thursday, January 23, 2020

23



Back in 1969, I had a premonition—that I would die at age 23. The thought would just pop up and into my mind seemingly out of nowhere.  At other times, a license plate number might jump out at me screaming “23” as part of the plate number. For some reason, that would trigger a vision of my impending death at age 23.  I forget the details, but I remember the premonition.
I remember telling my "date", in the Summer of 1969—a great year in New York City—that I would die at the age of 23.  As I recall, we were both smashed on pot and each other.  She didn’t seem to take me seriously enough, or maybe she did, I forget.  We’d be done in a few weeks, for unrelated reasons.
In 1969 and 1970, I believe I mentioned the premonition to others a few times.  Or maybe it was just a couple of times.  At least once, of that I am sure. 
Admittedly, I cannot recall everything about the premonition.  I especially cannot remember the first time I received the message that I would die at age 23.  But the premonition was clear at age 21, and Death was clearly associated with the number 23.
Back in the day, pretty stoned on whatever was available, I had no fear of dying, even tho I actually thought I would be dead before reaching age 24.
Many years later, after my 23rd birthday had passed, I became spiritually minded and came to know that in my previous past life, I had died young. Perhaps that had colored my premonition in this life.
In any event, after age 23 came and went, I forgot about the premonition.  Until the 23rd of January, 1982, when my son Ryan was born but doomed to die soon thereafter, due to medical malpractice.  It was then that the premonition returned, painfully.  All that was 38 years ago to the day, as of this original writing (I've done some editing afterwards).
Obviously, during my premonition stage, 23 and Death had been clearly linked, tho I was way off in thinking that I would die at age 23.  While I do get signs from the Spirit World, now and then, it has been my experience that I often misinterpret those signs, as in the scenario discussed above.  Thus, I have no plans to open up a Psychic Shop.

Posted by Dennis P. McMahon at 12:26 PM No comments:

Saturday, December 21, 2019

Marci Maven


I had never heard of Sarah Silverman before binging on “Monk,” the TV series, via AmazonPrime. Sarah guest-starred magnificently in Series 6, Episode 1: “Mr. Monk and His Biggest Fan [Marci Maven].”  (She had been in a prior “Monk” episode, years earlier.)

I started Googling à Sarah Silverman ß and found lots of “video clips” (is that still a proper term?) on Youtube and wherever else the search results took me.  Some shows are free, some are for rental and/or sale.  I started viewing the free stuff first. The stand-up comedy shows are raunchy but good.  I especially liked how in "We Are Miracles" (FREE!) Sarah handled the tennis ball and the obnoxious guys in the blue convertible (altho, on second and third viewings, it seems that a stunt person was handling the tennis ball).

Later I bought "Sarah Silberman's 'Jesus Is Magic'" (notice who got star billing there). I rented the video and watched it twice.  I thought the work was brilliant, in a way, but I didn't laugh much.  

Meanwhile, I've read Sarah's book “The Bedwetter,” which I had purchased in paperback.  A quick read.  I submitted a review to Amazon: 4 stars overall: 5 stars for the first half, 3 stars for the second half.  Amazon has published my review.

While reading "The Bedwetter," I got the feeling that I was getting to know Sarah, intimately.  Of course, it could all be an hallucination.  In any event, I was entranced by Sarah's words, and especially her superlative and efficient use of language (maybe her editor deserves credit). 

Miraculously, thru her creative use of language, Sarah transported me into the worlds within which she existed.  How painful the bedwetting scenes.  Entering the pro- (semi-pro-?) comedy world of the 80s was beyond amazing and somewhat horrifying. No author has ever transported me that way, or in any way.  Ever. 

Sarah's experiences in her worlds are beyond extraordinary.  Again, I felt while reading Sarah's words, that I had experienced the events that she had  experienced.  What a great buy for the paperback at $7.50 (plus tax).

I love how Sarah writes. 

I can’t wait to see Sarah on Broadway in April, 2020.  Some sort of musical version of “The Bedwetter,” the show will be, according to Amazon video notes that are attached to "Monk".  

Actually, I detest Broadway musicals, but must go see Sarah in this one.  She is obviously also very talented musically (vocals and guitar), as her work shows.  I very much like that her very tight back-up band is called "The Silver Men."  

And since she is the one who turned me onto "Fan Fiction" (during "Monk") I promise to write a Fan Fiction story starring Sarah and me (notice who gets top billing).  


Postscript:  Just before Christmas 2019, I bought all of the available episodes of "The Sarah Silverman Program" on Amazon, kind of a present from me to me, I thought.  Set me back about forty-five bucks.  No big deal but the problem was that the show is absolutely awful.  Sarah and her real-life/on-show sister Laura are very charismatic, but the other characters and the stories told, well. . . not for me.   Now re-thinking whether I should do that Fan Fiction piece I was thinking about doing, the one featuring Sarah who, as Marci Maven, had turned me on to the Fan-Fiction genre during the "Monk" episode mentioned above (Season 6, Episode 1).  If I do proceed with the project, it would probably be after I see Sarah on Broadway, and also after we see how well the show does economically and critically.  Unless inspiration hits before then.

3/14/20 -- As of this point, I do not plan to see Sarah on Broadway as her show will be a musical.  I am not a fan of musicals. Also, no Fan Fiction planned.

And then the coronavirus lockdown went into effect.  And still is, as of this writing, 5/10/20.

Posted by Dennis P. McMahon at 1:42 PM No comments:
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Dennis P. McMahon
Brooklyn, New York, United States
I am a father, grandfather, attorney, writer, former managing editor, and . . . (lots of other things).
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