The e-mail began cryptically: "Hello, I am a working psychic. I have the ability to alter reality and to make things happen the way that I say they will."
Quicker'n you can say bull twaddle, Unreal gave the message's author, William F. Tucker, a buzz.
Tucker says he holds degrees in electrical and computer engineering and that for six years he has been offering psychic services in the St. Louis area with his partner, Deborah Lee. So we spoke with them both.
Unreal: So, you're psychics...
William Tucker: "Psychic" is actually a misnomer, as it's actually more of a higher sense perception. My approach is more scientific than most psychics'. It's similar to the work being presented on the television shows Lie to Me, The Mentalist and The Listener. With a little bit of House thrown in for panache.
Deborah Lee: We give people information about the future. We find people don't listen a lot of times — that what's going to happen is based upon what's happening now.
Specifically, then, what do you do for people?
WT: We ask a client to bring us a situation that they want us to help them work on: find a job, buy a house, work with particular business partners, get a divorce, work with an attorney. We don't ask many questions. We ask what the client wants to know, and then we "look."
DL: We use our bodies, if you will, as instruments of perception. It's like a weather station. People can actually develop their feeling and gut senses to give an accurate weather report of a situation. When we predict a person's trajectory, we see hidden as well as visible criteria. A person is still responsible for walking into their future; we can give them all the signposts and tell them what's going to occur if they continue to do what they're doing now. So we counsel people to take effective action.
WT: My partner and I have the same assessment [of a situation] even if we don't talk [to one another] about the client, and usually we don't. The information is there. Like rings on a tree, as real as finding a turtle in your back yard.
Am I going to find a turtle in my back yard?
WT: If you hung around us a few more times, you'd probably find turtles in your back yard.
How did you gain these abilities?
WT: Primarily by practice. Other stuff — like meditation, self analysis, studying the cognitive process, studying shamanism, dream studies, lucid dreaming, pranayama, kundalini yoga, chanting. I was in my bedroom in Reston, Virginia, it was 23 years ago. I was meditating and saw a green light around my hands, and I said, "What the fuck?"
What kinds of clients seek you out?
DL: Lawyers, teachers, counselors, therapists, mortgage brokers, bankers, parents....
WT: We used to do advertising, but lately it's been word of mouth. We haven't had to give anybody their money back.
William, I've heard you burp a few times, by the way.
It's a Tibetan system of healing. If there's negative energy in the room, I turn it into something physical and release it in the form of a burp. I know that sounds kind of crazy.Local Blog o' the Week
"Shouldn't Life Be More Than This?"
About the blogger: a.eye is "teaching, living, learning, sharing. Constantly," and, evidently, isn't partial to baseball.
Recent Highlight (July 13): All-Star Game and Meth Issues
So, the All-Star Game (baseball) is in town. Which means the city officials have finally decided to clean up some of the garbage in the area, redo some broken windows, and hide the homeless for a few days.
A lot of people I know are talking about the festivities that have been going on since the weekend. They have bragged about getting tickets, talked about going to the America's Center to do some of the games, going to the celebrity softball game, and ventured to the down town area to go to some parties in the hopes of ogling over some famous people that they might just see.
I don't know why they keep telling me about these things, or talking about baseball in front of me at all.
I would rather smoke meth, become addicted to meth, have my face sink in and become acne scarred as my teeth continuously fall out even from eating apple sauce, spend all my money on meth, sit in the house in a drug induced coma until I need the next fix, then go to one of corners of Forest Park Parkway and beg for more money from the people who drive by and curse me and spit on me, at which point I would spit back at them, get arrested and have a nice free place to stay for awhile since I would be evicted from lack of paying rent and from stealing from the neighbors to pawn their flat screens, video games, and fried chicken, as well as sell their gold jewelry to Gold4Cash.com to get my next fix for the meth that would slowly kill me. Then the police would kick me out and I would sleep in the park across from Union Station down town, or crash in one of the abandoned homes the city did not fix up since they are more than 10 blocks from Busch Stadium waiting to come down enough to steal some more to get more drugs and possibly go to 7-11 for a Slurpy and a corn dog, which ordinarily I despise, but on meth, they might be good.
This is what I would rather do than even think about considering going to / attending / viewing / hearing about / even seeing pictures of anything having to do with baseball.
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