Tuesday, 1 April 2008

Ufo conference continued...Nathan Sarea

Well Saturday night was a bit disastrous. Pleasant drink in the pub with Matthew Delooze and his pixie-pretty wife Suzy... she has stuck by him throughout his experiences which can't have been easy at the beginning, it seems like a marriage in the truest sense of the word, in which you grow together, whatever happens... and Ben Emlyn-Jones. We had a bit of a giggle about Mr Anal Dipstick. I remarked on the lack of female speakers, in fact female input at all... David Icke has definately forged a new career path for menopausal men. Feeling down in the dumps, conflicted, alienated? Become a messiah! What do women do in the same situation? Join the National Trust? Develop psychic powers and wear flowing gowns?
Then, starving, not having eaten much since 4am, I got some fish and chips... can I just digress here from UFO's to fish and chips? London fish and chips is simply not worth eating. Near me, in West Hampstead, there is quite a famous fish and chip shop, you can have matzo fried fish too, but its crap and expensive (like 6 quid) for soggy battered unfresh fish and limp chips. Up north, now we are talking... for £2.80p I got divinely crispy golden battered fresh haddock and perfect(crispy on outside, soft on inside) chips. You have to wait. Why? Cos they make it on the spot! Brilliant. The weather was awful, freezing large drops of rain. Outside, in anthropological mode, I spotted a member of a local tribe; a girl with orange fake tan legs wearing the tiniest white toga style mini dress, no tights, high heels and no coat, struggling through the wind with her boyfriend. Northern lasses eh... made of sterner stuff than us southern chicks. 
We then went to the Carlton hotel where all the conference people were staying, to have a drink. An unprepossessing place, we politely asked the gigantic landlady if it would be all right if I ate my fish and chips there (for they did no food). She assented. Then five minutes later came marching up to me and told me to get out! I was forced to stand in the freezing rain outside. My new shiny black patent high heels were soaked, my pink Topshop dress too! I looked and felt like a drowned rat. So much for Northern hospitality. At this point I gave up and returned to my bed and breakfast, the decor and location of which launched me into a mini-crisis involving my dead grandmother and the probability of dying alone in seaside nursing homes. 
The next morning, as a result, I spent crying by the pier and taking photos. So I missed a couple of the lectures, Neil Hague and someone else.. damn. 
I came in and an energetic man named Nathan Sarea was exhorting people to participate in various exercises. I couldn't be arsed. He was more professional than the other speakers and a bit too American-style slick for my liking. 
Here's my notes anyway:
...came in and there was a bloke laughing about al qaeda. Talk called 'The truth will out" by Nathan Sarea.
"In August 2005 David Shayler says there is an agreement between Muslims and MI6.
The film 'flight 93' who has seen it? What's the message of that film? If your plane is hijacked they will shoot you out of the sky, you are just a number.
What is fear?
Fear is killing the human spirit. Fear is the anticipation of pain. It is not real. It is a fake emotion. Is it time to let fear go?
Stand up . Let fear go...We are gonna let go of fear and put some positive words in.
It's been such a good talk, I've really been on form and I'm going to have to give each of you an invoice. Invoicing, get the voice inside yourself.
The idea is you are going to hear your voice inside you saying these words.
I have now let go of the energy of fear forever from all levels of my being throughout all times, past, present and future." (I look around and there are lots of old people saying this) "Repeat! Louder and higher!
You are healed. (giggles)
Next slide please.
I can I am I will I choose I have I love I create I enjoy.
Positive language. Water crystal. Body made up of 70 % of water.
I'm going to make a sound a tone, if you'd like to close your eyes, be my guest. This is toning. Take a deep breath in."
You can hear a pin drop while he makes a strange nasally high-pitched sound. Then he does it again without the mike.
"Feel the energy in the room change! One sound. That's the resonant vibration of me. Here's our last little finisher."(He almost falls off stage). He laughs and says "the message if you get too cocky, God will slap you. The message of water (shows slide)"
(I looked around at the hope in the faces of the old and infirm. You've got to admire them. They are trying, questing.) 
He turns the positive chant into a song, people start clapping along. It's really funny. People cheer and clap at the end.
"Those of you that participated, how do you feel now?"
Good! (The calls ring out.) People stand up for him and clap. People are cheerful afterwards.
Then the old lady, Jean, who runs the thing, comes up and accuses me of not paying. I gape at her. We've spoken at length on the phone, exchanged emails and I paid for the whole weekend yesterday. Eventually I manage to stutter:"Don't you remember me? I paid you yesterday". She still insists on seeing my ticket, muttering something about 'them'. "Who is 'them'?" I ask. I don't get a clear answer. (Don't dump your Alzheimers on me, I think, uncharitably.)
Then my daughter calls up crying. I tell her the truth, as always. There is no God, no Santa, no tooth fairy. Life isn't worth living but lets carry on anyway. My daughter feels much better after that. 


  1. Glad you mentioned that incident at the hotel. I've written about it too in my own report. I really miss the old hotel where the conference used when I first started going there.

  2. Yes, it was not very nice, especially when you are feeling a bit vulnerable anyway...


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