"The Tip of the Crystal"

Juice Bars on Mars

  "I've been to Mars many times." Larry Stevenson, founder of the Oak Creek Method and the Realize Technique, was at our house for dinner, the evening after we had just completed his course, and was pontificating on his intergalactic experiences.

  "Do they smoke pot?" I asked, hoping to add some levity to what I considered a preposterous claim.

  "They don't smoke marijuana. They indulge in juice. You see, they have a special drink that puts them in an euphoric state. There are juice bars all over the planet. It's one of my favorite places to visit. In fact, they love me and have frequently asked me to stay, but my mission is with the Earthians."

  "The Earthians?" I asked. He didn't pay attention to me, he just kept talking.

  "I have attained the ability to go anywhere in the universe that I please. I've been to Venus. I've been to Jupiter. And I've visited other galaxies. The only reason I'm still on Earth is to bring "the method" to as many people as possible."

  We had heard about "the method" from Akria, who was previously the E.T. called Avanisha. She was no longer an extraterrestrial. Apparently, "walkouts" were as popular as "walkins." After the disbanding of the Extraterrestrial Earth Mission she did readings of astrological charts for a while. One year and some horoscopes later, she was employed by Larry, who before attaining his status as a guru, was a successful real estate tycoon in New York. She told us that the "realize technique" was the most powerful tool she had ever used for the clearing of negative emotions. She strongly urged us to take the course. We had also heard of the "realize technique" from a woman called Astredia, who said that it was the best $550 she had ever spent. When we asked her for specifics as to how the technique worked she became evasive and told us that she had had to sign a form saying that she would not divulge any of the particulars associated with the teaching of the technique. This reminded me of the time I shelled out $65 to learn Transcendental Meditation. I was warned by my TM instructor to not tell anyone my mantra, as it was specifically suited for me, and that it would put me in disharmony and cause great discord if I were to breach this mandate. He assured me that this vow to secrecy had nothing to do with the protection of a money-making scheme, and then repeatedly suggested that I spread the word to others as to how great TM really was. I was attending the Air Force Academy at the time and was used to being servile and following orders. My mantra remained a secret until I left the Academy two years later. It was then that Michael and I had a little ceremony of our own. We got together with a group of friends, and after exchanging a few "war stories," and consuming collegiate portions of pizza and beer, told each other our mantras. That evening I half expected some mighty, malevolent Maharishi spirit to come and pummel me to death with a garland of flowers as I slept. Surprisingly, nothing happened and the world of meditators survived our indiscretion.

  "Have you ever seen a flying saucer here on Earth?" my brother Nick asked Larry.

  "Of course," answered Larry, "but they're shaped more like cigars than saucers. A few years ago," he continued, "I was with a friend who was visiting me in Sedona. He wasn't a believer of metaphysical phenomena. It was late in the evening, and as it was quite warm, we were sitting outside. All of a sudden a large, very bright light began to rapidly approach from about three hundred yards away. It continued its course until it was less than one hundred yards away. At that point it stopped and remained hovering in one spot."

  "Could it have been a car?" asked Nick.

  "No, no," said Larry, "I was living in the desert at the time and there were no roads near my trailer. The light was much too bright to have been coming from a car. So, anyway, we sat staring at the light for what seemed a very long time. Then two creatures came out of a doorway to the craft and started speaking to us in perfect English."

  "Are you sure they weren't Germans?" I asked jokingly.

  "Germans?" Larry looked at me dumbfounded.

  "Yeah," I continued, "The Germans I've met speak better English than most Americans I know." I was in a festive mood and was finding it rather difficult to to listen to the narration of incidents best left on the covers of the National Enquirer. Larry continued with his account and I got up to do the dishes in the kitchen. I had heard many stories similar to Larry's since moving to Sedona. I was trying to keep an open mind but I found it difficult to believe in flying cigar ships and people astral traveling to juice bars on Mars.
 

>> Next on "The Tip of the Crystal" | Writings